#again I am NOT up-to-date on what's happening so if I'm wrong then ignore tags but I feel Very strongly about 'kys' ''jokes'' and anon hate

[buysomecheese]

WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON WITH THE DNDADS CHARACTER BLOGS RN. WHAT. HELLO. GUYS. WHAT.

[luludeluluramblings]

tbh I’m more intrigued by the idea of college-age Reader getting pregnant while unmarried still living in the manor and NO ONE has any idea who the father is (maybe she does, but she’s withholding that for now or maybe he’s not in the picture?) and it’s the biggest freak out ever. that just seems so fucking wild and potentially hilarious to me. and nobody noticing she’s pregnant until she’s farther along? or them finding out randomly?? imagine:

damian: you look pregnant. what is wrong with you.

reader: i am pregnant though

the batfam: ????????!!!!!!!!!! and then she proposes that now that she’s old enough and starting a new chapter in her life raising a baby and all she should just move out! (cue everyone disliked that meme)

Neglected!Pregnant!Reader x Yandere!Bat Family

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part Two

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Okay, I think I'm about to become a Pregnancy!Reader writer. Which, I'm not mad about. Kind think it would be fun, but I know the trope isn't for everyone. So, if it’s not your thing, I’m sorry.

A/N: Some of this is based off of things from my own pregnancies.

A/N: Oh, no. Frick, I wanna make this a series now. Check the bottom, cause I have a plot idea for this and I want opinions on it. I spiraled, this was supposed to be a quick blurb. I got carried away. Gonna build up to the yandere shenanigans because I’m turning into a writer with a million WIPs.

A/N: Tagging @skay-ali because I like their The Forgotten Daughter series.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Very minor Yandere Themes (like barely there), minor NSFW, graphic descriptions of pregnancy and medical procedures, Vomiting.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You don't really remember that night it happened. But, it only happened once and after you swore you'd never drink again. The hangover after that night had been one of the worst of your short life.

In fact, the sticky feeling between your legs and bitter taste on your tongue had also added to your decision to swear of these college parties. Luckily, you have enough of your memory to remember that you and your partner from that night had both been willing even when wasted. Even if you couldn't remember their name. Or, their face.

It takes you a while to notice. One missed cycle wasn't anything to freak out about, and it was exam season. The stress had probably caused the nausea. It wasn't until you were heading down to breakfast one morning and smelled the burnt eggs in the kitchen that Stephanie had burnt that you realized something might be wrong.

You, of course, ignore it. It was just a fluke. Burnt eggs weren't appetizing to anyone. But, then you nearly faint walking through the perfume section after looking to restock your favorite bottle of scent.

The doctor you finally went to another week later had asked about your cycle and the last time you had been intimate with someone. That's when the reality of things started to set in. You hadn't even thought to do an at home test to check. Your doctor was kind though, saying they could just do a quick urine sample and blood test just to make sure. It might be something else.

The next few minutes felt like ages. But, when the Doctor came back to tell you the positive results you panicked. Not as in panicked as in you broke down, but you threw up a mask. You're good at doing that. You must get it from your father.

When she asks you if this is good news or bad news you can't help, but blurt that it's good. Great even. Which causes her to beam at you. Before you know it, you're being handed a complementary diaper bag with formula and tiny bottles while being given the rundown on your possible due date and future appointments. You nodded you're head along with the information, sliding the paper's into the diaper bag as she hands them to you.

But, then she turns to you with delight and tells you that the Ultra Sound tech has an opening and you're just far along enough they can do your first ultrasound. It'll only be a thirty minute wait.

After nodding along once more, you go back into the waiting room. Holding your new bag with white knuckles and falling into deep thought.

This is happening. But, how? Are you even fit to be a parent? You've hardly ever been loved. How are you going to love someone else? How are you going to do this? What will the family think? What will your few friends think? You don't even remember who their father is. This is impossible. You're not ready. You'll never be ready. That churning feeling is in your stomach again and you feel that single piece of toast you had for breakfast about to come back up.

The thirty minutes fly by with those thoughts in your head. They still swirl in your head as your go back into the ultrasound room.

It's dark, but the tech had few soft lights on in the room. Its actually kind of... cozy.

What's not cozy it the tech telling you that she's going to stick a wand up your bits so you could see the baby. Your eyes screwing shut at the cold invasive feeling.

But, when you open them, she turns the screen for you to see. It's almost amazing how fast the image appears on the screen.

And, their moving. Actually moving. You end up laughing at the sight, causing the screen to flicker and the little blob to move. When the nurse plays the heart beat you can feel yours stuttering in your chest.

Watching them bounce in there with each laugh, it’s easy for the next words to spill out of your mouth.

“Oh, I’m gonna love you.”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Every step after that feels remarkably less lonely. It’s not just you anymore. You have someone who you’re going to love.

You don’t bother telling the Family. Bruce would just lecture you on being reckless while the other’s would judge you for it.

Honestly, you don’t care if they did. This is your baby.

Funnily enough, for a house full of detectives and highly intelligent vigilantes no one actually notices. Not even Cassandra. It’s a bit insulting how much they don’t pay attention. But, your symptoms soon make it so you don’t care.

The waves of exhaustion, the way everything smells strong and certain things make you want to gag. Heartburn that burns your throat. The subtle cravings that make you cry when you can’t fulfill them. Thankfully you finished your exams because you were too tired to even move from your bed most mornings due to strange nightmares.

Eventually, someone does notice. And, it’s not anyone you would expect.

Of all things you cried over on the pantry floor, it had to be salt and vinegar chips. They hadn’t been what you wanted, but it was too late to go get french fries and a smoothie at this hour in Gotham. And, you stuffed them down your throat with angry tears.

It was Stephanie of all people to find you. You gave her a sharp glare when she seemed to grow wide eyed. Normally you avoid her gaze, but you were quite pissed about having chips in your mouth and not fries. As her eyes grew wider, your nose wrinkled in further annoyance at her.

Just as you’re about to tell her off, she speaks.

“Do you— um, want something else?”

It’s pitiful how fast your snarl turns into a pleading pout.

“Yes, please. I want fries. I want Jokerized fries so badly.” You practically blubber when she gives you a pointed nod towards the car garage.

It takes you a bit to get off the floor despite the fact that your bump is hardly noticeable, but Stephanie noticed the extremely subtle curve.

“How far?” She asks hesitantly, looking from the bump to your face.

You also hesitant for a moment, looking up at her with tears on your cheeks and a serious look in your eyes. “14 Weeks.”

Her eyebrows raise and a wiry pout appears on her face. “Damn. You’re smaller than I was at that time, so not fair.”

The slightly surprised that information gives you almost makes you pause. But, if you had you would’ve probably toppled back down to the pantry floor.

“Explain on the way?” You ask, still a bit nervous. The two of you had never been close since you moved into the manor less than a handful of years back.

“Sure.” She grins, leading the way.

As you both walk, she whispers. “Does Bruce know?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.”

“Ah.” Stephanie managed to hide the winces from you.

When you two finally make into the car, you’re already feeling better about life. You’re about to have your fries, and possibly a shake too. You didn’t expect to have any company, but surprisingly it’s nice.

Stephanie drives, and get the fries to go. Munching on them as Stephanie drives you back to the manor. Her sharing her own pregnancy experience.

"Wait, so Tim dated you when you were pregnant with another dudes kid? Babe, forget being me being small, you got game."

"Damn right I do." She says smugly, stuffing her own fries in her mouth. "So, um, do you wanna talk about what happened with you?"

And, just like that your mood shifts.

"No."

"Oh- Oh! I'm sorr-" She starts up, and you can tell she's assuming the worst.

"Don't you start, Stephanie." You interrupt with a pointed glare. "I don't want to talk about it because it's none of y'all's business."

That makes her cough on her french fry. "Wait, wait, what do you mean? Don't you want help?"

"Nah, I got it." Comes your stubborn reply, glaring out the window as you dip your fry into the cheesecake milkshake.

"... You should tell Bruce." She suggest after a moment of awkward silence.

"What? So he can ignore his grandchild, too?" Your filter is none existent with your hormones all out of wack.

"He doesn't ignore you-"

"Oh, yes the fuck he does." Your firmly state. Growing a bit heated. "Y'all all figgin do."

Stephanie is about to roll her eyes, chalking your words to you just being unreasonable. But, then the thought starts to creep upon her with each passing building when she realizes this is the first time she's actually hung out with you. Ever.

"I'm sorry." She murmurs to you. The silence falling over you both as the cars continues back to the manor.

"... I'm only forgiving you because you bought my fries..."

"Really?! That's all I had to do?"

"What? I was desperate for this- Wait! Hang on. Stop the car. Stop the car-"

"What? Why?! Are you- OH! Fuck!"

You ended up regurgitating up all the fries you had just eaten. Right into your lap.

"Oooo, that's nasty." Stephanie says, cracking the windows.

"Is it bad that I still want to eat them?" You mumble to her, eyeing the remaining fries.

"Please, please, wait till we get back or I'm gonna hurl, too."

"Fine." Comes your reply. Your eyes drifting shut for a moment. "If you tell anyone I'm gonna tell Cassandra about your crush on her."

"How did you- Frick, you are more like Bruce then I realize." Her voice going from panic to begrudging realization.

"Now, that's offenseive."

"Oh, come on. You're kids gonna have some of Bruce's DNA too."

"Eww. Eww. Don't remind me."

The banter between you both coming back with ease.

When you make it back to the manor, parting ways for the night. You feel at ease. You may have made have finally made a new friend in all this and gained a pillar of support.

As you shower and finish off your fries, you can't help but think about the apartments you had been looking at. Wondering what Stephanie will thinking of your nursery ideas.

Down in the cave, Stephanie slowly walks down the steps. Realizing this might have just gotten complicated.

"You okay, Steph?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Soooooo, what if, and hear me out, wee add some baby daddy drama to this?

A/N: Please note, I write a Reader that DID NOT grow up with the Bat Family, which means we could have some really really juicy drama here. But, we could just keep the options limited to just close friends of the Bat family.

A/N: What do y'all think? Baby Daddy drama? One of the Bat Boys the Daddy? One of the other vigilantes? Should I do a Baby Daddy poll? I just feel like this is an opportunity.

A/N: Also, Stephanie was a teen mom in some comics from my research. Which I think adds to this and gives her a better chance of bonding with Reader until shit goes down.

[jetii]

Too Sweet

Part One | Part Three | Part Four

Pairing: Fox x fem!Reader / Fox x Doctor!Reader

Words: 6,162/26,525

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, strangers to lovers, grumpy/sunshine, Fox is a little anxious/paranoid, and he needs a hug, lots of awkward flirting in this part, smut in part 4

Summary: Fox has no time for romance. He doesn't even have time for sleep, let alone dates. But when a horrible day at work leads him to you, he suddenly finds himself in danger of reevaluating his priorities.

A/N: Okay, I think I have the rest of this fic pretty much set, except for the final edits to the smut. Part 3 will be up on Wednesday and part 4 next Sunday!

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

A week passes, and the wound in his shoulder heals without any complications. There's no need to see you again, and Fox is relieved. The more time that passes, the easier it is to forget about the interaction, and he soon manages to put it out of his mind entirely. He’s far too busy to dwell on things that don’t matter, and he has better things to focus on.

He still thinks about you, though.

It’s hard not to. He passes GMF every day, and sometimes he finds himself staring at the building wondering if you're working. You'd seemed to enjoy your job, and he finds himself hoping that you're doing okay. But then he reminds himself that it's none of his business, and he walks away.

Another week goes by, and the stitches dissolve, leaving nothing but a faint scar. Fox isn't sure how to feel about it. It's not the first scar he's gotten, and he doubts it'll be the last, but for some reason, he can't stop looking at it. It's strange. The wound was minor, and the injury is no longer bothering him, but there's something about the scar that intrigues him.

He doesn't like it.

It's a reminder of his failure, and the fact that he had been injured by a common criminal. It was embarrassing, and the fact that he still remembers your smile only makes it worse. It shouldn't have happened, and he was supposed to be better than that. He was supposed to be the best, and a scratch like this should have never occurred.

He spends his days obsessing over the incident, trying to figure out where he went wrong. There had to be a way to avoid a repeat performance, and he's determined to find it. The new security system has arrived, and he throws himself into his work, spending hours studying the plans and the documentation. He ignores his brothers' concerns and pushes himself harder than ever before, refusing to accept anything less than perfection.

After a week, he's finally satisfied, and he announces the changes to the Senate guards. He receives several confused looks, but no one questions his orders. He's the commander, after all, and if he wants things a certain way, that's the way they're going to be. It doesn't matter what the others think, as long as the job gets done.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"What do you mean?" Fox asks, looking up from his datapad to find Thorn standing in the doorway, a scowl on his face.

"Don't give me that."

"What's the problem?"

"The problem is you," Thorn says, pointing at him. "You've turned the Senate building into a fortress."

"So?"

"You've doubled the number of guard patrols," Thorn continues. "We've already had to reroute half the traffic, and people are getting mad. You can't just keep making these changes without talking to us first."

"It's my job," Fox says, his voice cold. "And you're not in charge, I am."

"Don't pull rank on me," Thorn snaps.

"Then don't question my decisions."

Thorn glares at him, his expression hard. He's clearly angry, but Fox doesn't care. He's doing his job, and his brother doesn't have the right to tell him how to do it. He's the one who has to answer for the safety of the Chancellor, and he's not about to let Thorn interfere.

"What's gotten into you?" he asks, his shoulders dropping, and the anger in his voice is tempered by concern. "You're acting weird."

"I'm not," Fox says, frowning.

"You are," Thorn insists. He steps into the room and shuts the door behind him. "I know we don't see eye-to-eye all the time, but something's up with you."

"There's nothing wrong," Fox says, his tone flat. He looks back down at the datapad, hoping that Thorn will take the hint and leave. There’s already a new message from the Chancellor, and he wants to get started on his report.

"You've been acting weird ever since that incident," Thorn says.

"What incident?" Fox asks, not looking up.

"The knife attack.”

"There were lots of knife attacks," Fox says, his voice flat. "You're going to have to be more specific."

“The one where you got stabbed, di’kut. It was two weeks ago, remember? When we had to go to GMF—“ Thorn stops abruptly, his eyes widening.

"What?" Fox snaps. He doesn't like the look on Thorn's face. It's the same expression he gets when he's solved a case, and it never means anything good. "What is it?"

"I just realized something."

"Realized what?" Fox asks, his patience running thin. He's tired and hungry, and the last thing he wants to deal with is another of Thorn's conspiracy theories.

"Why didn't I think of this sooner?" Thorn says, ignoring him, and he chuckles to himself. He walks over to the window and looks out, his expression thoughtful. "It's so obvious."

"Thorn—"

“This is about the doctor, isn’t it?”

Fox stiffens, and he stares at Thorn, his mouth falling open. He hadn't expected his brother to be so blunt, and the question catches him off guard.

"What?"

"Don't play dumb," Thorn says, giving him a look. "You've been obsessed with that incident ever since it happened, and I know for a fact that you've been avoiding the medical center."

"No, I haven't."

"Yes, you have," Thorn counters. "I've seen you turn around three times when we've walked past it, and you keep finding excuses not to go there."

"I'm not avoiding anything," Fox grumbles. He knows that Thorn isn't going to drop the subject until he answers, and he lets out a sigh, setting down his datapad. "It's not about the doctor. It's about the injury."

"I don't buy it."

"You don't have to."

"Fine," Thorn says, crossing his arms. He looks at Fox for a moment, his gaze scrutinizing, and then lets out a breath. "But for the record, I think you're being an idiot."

"So you've said."

"Yeah, well, maybe you'll listen this time."

"I doubt it," Fox mutters, and he picks up the datapad again. The screen is blank, and he taps at the controls, trying to remember where he'd left off.

"Why are you so set on torturing yourself?" Thorn asks. His voice is quiet, and the question takes Fox by surprise. He looks up at his brother, frowning, and he sees that Thorn is watching him with a worried expression. "You can't keep going like this, Fox."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not," Thorn says. He walks over to the desk and sits down in the chair across from Fox, his elbows resting on the surface. "You're working yourself to death, and it's not going to make a difference."

"It will," Fox insists. "If we can—"

"It won't," Thorn interrupts. "I know you're worried about the Chancellor, but he's not going to disappear overnight. He's not in any more danger now than he was a week ago."

"We can't afford to let our guard down," Fox says, his voice strained. "You know that."

"I do." Thorn nods. "But you can't keep going like this. At least take a break. Go to a bar. Relax."

"There's too much work to do."

"I'll cover for you."

Fox sighs and looks down at the datapad again, the words blurring together. He can't focus, and the report isn't going to get done anytime soon. Thorn is right, as much as he hates to admit it. He's been working too hard, and it's starting to take a toll. But the thought of stopping makes his chest tighten, and he feels a surge of anxiety. If he stops, what's going to happen? What if something goes wrong, and he's not there to stop it? What if—

"Fox."

"Yeah," he says, letting out a shaky breath.

"Just take the rest of the night off." Thorn leans forward and gently pries the datapad from Fox's fingers. "You need to rest."

"Fine," Fox says, and he feels his shoulders slump.

"Good."

"But not a word of this to the others," he warns.

"I won't." Thorn smirks and stands up, walking over to the door. "Just promise me you'll try and have a little fun, okay? No matter how boring you think it is."

"Yeah, yeah."

Thorn leaves, and Fox lets out a sigh, sinking into his chair. He rests his head in his hands, rubbing his temples, and closes his eyes. The darkness is soothing, and he lets out a slow breath, trying to calm his nerves.

He's been feeling off for a while now, and the conversation with Thorn had only made things worse. The stress is starting to get to him, and he knows that he needs a break. But the thought of stepping away from the office, even for a moment, fills him with a sense of dread. He's afraid that something will happen, and he'll be too far away to stop it. But deep down, he knows that Thorn is right. He can't keep going like this. Something's got to give.

Fox’s stomach growls, painfully reminding him that he hasn't eaten all day. The sound snaps him out of his thoughts, and he looks up, blinking. He's been sitting here for hours, and the sun has gone down. It's late, and his body is screaming for food and sleep.

He stands up and stretches, his back popping, and heads for the door. The mess hall at the barracks has long since closed, and his stomach grumbles again, louder this time. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, wondering if there's a ration bar left in his locker. Probably not. Maybe if he takes a walk, he can find something. There's bound to be a 24-hour café open somewhere, and if he’s lucky, they'll have something edible. He hasn't eaten actual food in weeks, and the thought of having something hot and fresh is almost too tempting to resist.

He steps out of his office and makes his way down the corridor, passing the rows of empty desks and abandoned terminals. Thorn’s office light is still on, and when Fox passes by, his brother gives him a thumbs up and a smile. Fox rolls his eyes, and he keeps walking, his feet carrying him down the stairs and towards the exit.

The night air is cool and refreshing, and he takes a deep breath, letting the chill seep into his bones. The streetlights are on, and the traffic has thinned, but the city is still bustling with activity. People are milling about, and he can see a few clusters of troopers on patrol. It's a familiar sight, and it brings him some comfort. At least here, he knows what to expect.

He walks for a few blocks, keeping his head down and his eyes forward. He doesn't want to draw attention to himself, and the last thing he needs is another confrontation with a citizen. He's tired, and the thought of having to explain himself is enough to make him cringe. It's better to just avoid it altogether.

Fox rounds a corner and pauses, his eyes scanning the crowd. There's a small diner tucked away between two buildings, and the smell of spices wafts out from the doorway. His stomach growls again, and he walks towards the entrance, pushing the doors open.

The diner is small and cozy, and there's only a handful of people inside. They're scattered throughout the room, and most are seated at the counter, chatting with the droid serving them. Fox takes a seat near the door, as far away from the other customers as possible, and pulls off his helmet. His hair is sticking up, and he quickly runs his fingers through it, trying to smooth it down. He's not sure why, but he suddenly feels self-conscious, and the feeling unsettles him. He's usually more composed, but today has been rough, and he doesn't want anyone to see him like this.

He orders a cup of caf, and as soon as it’s placed in front of him, he downs it in a single gulp. It's strong and bitter, and the warmth spreads through his chest, calming him. The exhaustion is still there, but at least the headache was starting to fade. He orders a second cup, and he sips it slowly, letting the steam warm his face as he turns his attention to the menu. 

Most of the dishes listed are foreign to him, and he’s so absorbed in trying to decipher the strange names that he doesn't notice someone settling one stool over from him. The smell of lavender is subtle, but unmistakable, and a flash of white has him turning his head before he can stop himself.

It’s you.

Fox nearly inhales his caf, and you look up from your datapad, startled.

"Commander?" You blink a few times, seemingly as surprised to see him as he was to see you. The surprise on your face quickly morphs into concern, and you frown. "Is everything alright?”

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," Fox says, taking another sip of caf to cover up his embarrassment.

"Are you sure? You look a bit...frazzled," you say, eyeing his hair.

He winces, and his free hand shoots up to smooth down his unruly curls again. Your gaze follows his movements, and then you smile, and the sight is like a punch to the gut.

"Just a long day," Fox mutters, glancing away. He stares down at his cup, tracing the rim with a gloved finger, and tries not to think about the way his heart is hammering in his chest. He can’t believe that of all the places in the city, you’re here, and the realization that you'd seen him make a fool of himself again has him wishing the floor would swallow him whole.

"I understand that," you say. Your smile fades, and you let out a sigh, tapping the datapad. "Unfortunately."

He glances over, curious, and sees that the screen is filled with rows of data. There are charts and graphs, and what appears to be an inventory list. It doesn't look like anything fun, and the thought that you might have a stressful job, too, intrigues him.

“What brings you out this late?” he asks.

You look at him, your eyebrows raised. For a moment, he worries that he's overstepped, but then you smile, and his worry melts away.

"Same as you, I suppose," you say, and he can hear the exhaustion in your voice. You sigh and set down your datapad. “My shift doesn’t end until 0400, but I needed a break from the medical wing. Sometimes, the smell of bacta gets to me."

Against his will, a laugh bubbles up from his chest. It’s short and rough, like gravel under his boots, but he can’t help it. He tries to cover it up by taking another sip of his caf, but you don't seem offended, and when he looks at you again, you're smiling.

"I hear that," Fox says, his lips twitching. "Something about it just..." He shudders, the thought of the thick, gel-like substance making him gag.

"Exactly," you say, nodding. "It's like melting plastic."

"Or glue," Fox says. He pauses for a moment, his brows furrowing, and he shakes his head. "Actually, maybe it is glue."

You laugh, and the sound is so bright and clear that it startles him. He didn’t think he was capable of making anyone laugh, and the fact that he had made you do so twice is baffling.

"Oh, stars, don't remind me.” Your nose scrunches up, and you let out a soft groan. "I can't tell you how many times I've had to peel my scrubs off and throw them away after a long day."

"I can only imagine," Fox muses, trying to picture you without the scrubs. His mind goes to a place h didn’t expect, and his cheeks heat up. He looks away, suddenly fascinated by the pattern on the countertop.

"I suppose it’s not so bad," you continue, oblivious to his distress. You tap your fingers on the counter, and then turn towards him. "You know, I heard a rumor that you were afraid of medics."

"I am not," Fox scoffs, frowning. He looks at you, and your expression is serious, but there's a twinkle in your eyes that tells him you're not entirely sincere. "I just have a healthy respect for those who can take me apart and put me back together again.”

"A healthy respect," you echo, grinning.

"Yes."

"Is that why you ran out of GMF like you were being chased by a Nexu the other day?" you ask, and there's a teasing note in your voice that makes his stomach flip.

"No," he mutters, looking away. 

He can feel his face burning, and his embarrassment is only making it worse. You'd noticed. Of course you had. And the fact that you'd actually thought about it, that you'd cared enough to bring it up, is both flattering and mortifying. He'd been hoping that you would just forget the entire incident, but apparently, you were more perceptive than he'd realized.

"Right," you chuckle. "Well, you're braver than most, I'll give you that. Most troopers don't set foot in the med center unless they're dragged there by their brothers."

He can't help but chuckle a little at that. If only you knew how close to the truth you were.

"So, if you're not afraid, do you mind if I join you?” you ask, gesturing toward the empty seat between you. “I promise not to dissect you, Commander."

Fox hesitates, his stomach clenching. You're asking to sit next to him. Why? It doesn't make any sense, and he's not sure what to say. It's a simple question, but it feels like there's a hidden meaning behind it, and he can't figure out what it is. But, the hopeful look on your face and the inexplicable need to please you is making it hard for him to say no.

You must mistake his silence for refusal, because your smile fades, and you pull back a little.

"It's okay if you don't want to," you say, and your tone is apologetic. "I just figured, since we're both here..."

"No, no, I'd like that," Fox says quickly, scooping up his helmet and setting it on the counter beside him. He gives you a small smile, and you beam back at him.

"Great!"

You stand and move to the seat between you, and Fox finds himself leaning back a little, not wanting to be too close. But when you settle into the stool, the scent of lavender is stronger, and he relaxes, allowing himself to enjoy it.

"I thought maybe I was bothering you," you admit.

"You’re not," Fox says, and he means it. Your presence is actually calming, and he feels the tension in his shoulders ease a little. He takes a deep breath, savoring the smell, and then realizes what he's doing and quickly stops. He picks up the menu and studies it intently, trying to distract himself.

You don't say anything, and he can feel you watching him. It's unnerving, but the feeling isn't entirely unpleasant, and he allows himself a few more seconds before he looks up at you again. When he does, you quickly turn away, a light flush dusting your cheeks. It's oddly endearing, and Fox has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.

The waitress droid returns and pours you a cup of caf before refilling his. You thank her as she leaves, and you pick up the cup, taking a sip. You let out a sigh, and your eyes close, a satisfied smile forming on your lips.

"This is perfect," you murmur, taking another sip. "I needed this."

"It's a necessity in my line of work," he says, his tone dry. "I'd be dead without it."

"You're telling me," you say, smiling at him, and you rest your chin on your hand. "I had to get three cups before my shift started just to feel human again."

"Three?"

"Don't judge," you say, laughing. "It's been a rough week."

"I wasn't judging," Fox smirks. "Those are rookie numbers, doctor."

“Rookie, huh?" You raise an eyebrow. "And how many cups would you say a seasoned pro could drink, Commander?"

"At least four." His smirk widens, and you roll your eyes, shaking your head. But your smile never falters, and Fox feels a little surge of pride. 

The way you seem so relaxed around him is surprising. Most civilians are put off by his presence, his harsh demeanor and stoicism, the fact that you aren't afraid of him makes him happy, and the warmth in his chest spreads through his body, filling him with a strange sort of euphoria.

"Well, I think we've established who's the true caffeine addict here," you tease. “You better eat something, or your heart is going to explode."

“Is that your official medical opinion, doctor?" he asks, his tone dry.

"It is," you say, giving him a pointed look.

He can't help but chuckle at your seriousness, and the way your brow furrows as you pretend to scold him. It's cute, and he finds himself enjoying it more than he should. 

He shouldn't be so comfortable around you, and yet he can't seem to stop himself. Something about you just draws him in, and the longer he spends in your company, the less he wants to leave.

"Then, I guess I'd better order something," Fox says, smiling.

“You better," you say, and the sternness in your voice is ruined by the way your eyes sparkle.

The two of you lapse into silence, and Fox takes the opportunity to study you. Your eyes are fixed on the menu, and you’re chewing on your bottom lip, seemingly deep in thought. Your hair falls around your face, and you absentmindedly tuck a strand behind your ear. You're beautiful, and the thought comes unbidden, but Fox doesn't try to fight it. It's true. You are beautiful. And you're talking to him, of all people, even after how he treated you.

It's surreal, and the fact that you seem so content, so happy, to be in his company is baffling. He can’t stop the questions from swirling through his mind. Why would someone like you want to spend time with him? What could you possibly get out of it? Surely, there had to be some sort of ulterior motive, some scheme or plan. Maybe you were spying for the Separatists, or working with the Black Sun, or—

"Have you eaten here before?" you ask, interrupting his thoughts.

"No, I haven't," Fox admits. "I don't really eat out much."

“Oh, you’re in for a treat,” you say, and you grin at him. The gesture is so sincere, so full of warmth and joy, that his heart skips a beat. "They have the best seallia sandwich here. I've been coming here since I started working at the GMF."

"I'll have to try it, then," Fox says, returning your smile.

The droid returns, and the two of you place your orders. When she leaves, the silence settles over the table again, and Fox fidgets, not sure what to do. He’s not normally one for small talk, or any talk, really, but something about your presence makes him want to reach out, and the fact that he doesn't know what to say is frustrating.

He glances over, and the look on your face is thoughtful, almost sad. You're staring at the counter, your chin resting in the palm of your hand, and the corners of your mouth are turned down. 

You look exhausted, and the sudden realization that you're probably as tired as he is hits him like a bolt of lightning. He has no idea how much longer your shift lasts, or how long it's been since you've gotten a decent night's sleep, and the thought of you suffering fills him with a strange sort of guilt.

"Long day?" he asks hesitantly.

"Yeah," you sigh. "I've been trying to get this grant application finished, but it's not going very well."

"Why not?"

"Well, the money is for a new surgical wing," you say, and you shrug. "But the bureaucrats at the hospital board don't seem to think it's worth the effort."

"What's wrong with the old wing?" Fox asks, frowning. He's familiar with the building, and the idea that it might not be up to par is unsettling. If it's not safe, then the lives of his men could be at risk. "Is it not up to code?"

“No, no, nothing like that," you assure him, and he lets out a relieved breath. "It's just...not very modern."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the equipment is outdated, and the space is cramped," you explain. “With the amount of refugees flooding the planet, we're already at capacity. It's only a matter of time before we hit a breaking point, and if we're not prepared..." You trail off, a frown on your face, and you shake your head. "I don't even want to think about it."

"I see," Fox says, and his stomach twists into knots. He's seen the crowds of refugees, the lines of injured people waiting outside the medical centers, and the thought of what would happen if things got any worse is terrifying. There’d already been one riot, and the city was becoming increasingly unstable. It was only a matter of time before something snapped.

"Sorry, I shouldn't be complaining," you say, giving him a small smile. "I know you've got a lot on your plate."

"It's alright," Fox says, his voice soft. The guilt he feels whenever someone mentions the state of the planet is starting to build, and he has to resist the urge to apologize. He knows it’s not his responsibility alone, and yet, the burden is his to carry.

"Thanks," you murmur, and the gratitude in your voice is startling. You offer him a warm smile, and the knot in his stomach loosens, and the guilt recedes. "I'm sorry, I don't usually get to talk about this stuff."

"Why not?"

"My co-workers aren't really interested in listening to me complain about the state of the medical system. They think I’m being paranoid." You sigh and run a hand through your hair. "And they're probably right. We're doing everything we can, and there's only so much we can do with what we have."

"No, I understand," Fox says. His own brothers aren't much better, and he can't count the number of times he's had to deal with their complaints and gripes. The fact that they can't see the bigger picture, the danger lurking just beneath the surface, frustrates him. "Trust me."

"It's nice to hear someone else agree," you say, and there's a wistful note in your voice that makes his heart ache. You sound lonely, and the urge to reach out, to comfort you, is nearly overwhelming. But before he can do anything, the droid returns with your food, and you sit up, smiling. "Thank you."

The food is placed in front of them, and Fox stares at his plate, a little taken aback. The sandwich is massive, and it smells amazing. His stomach growls, and he takes a large bite, closing his eyes as the flavors explode in his mouth.

"Good, right?" you ask, grinning.

"Yes," he says, and he lets out a sigh. The sandwich is the most delicious thing he's ever eaten, and he quickly devours it, savoring every bite. You seem amused, and you watch him with a faint smile on your lips, eating your own food much slower.

The silence between the two of you is comfortable, and Fox is surprised by how easy it is to just sit and enjoy the moment. Every once in a while, you look over at him, and the way your gaze lingers sends shivers down his spine. He can't help but stare back, and the two of you exchange small smiles before returning to your meals.

It's silly, and a little childish, but the warmth in his chest grows with every glance, and soon, he's actively trying not to grin like an idiot.

"So," you say, wiping your mouth. "How's the arm feeling?"

"It's fine." He glances down at his pauldron, and then back at you. "You did a good job."

"That's what I'm here for," you say, laughing.

"I'm sorry I didn't stick around," Fox says, wincing internally at the memory. "Things were pretty hectic that day."

"Don't worry about it," you say, waving him off. "I'm just glad you're okay."

Fox looks at you, his eyebrows raised. You're staring at him, and your expression is genuine. There's no anger or resentment in your eyes, only concern, and his throat tightens. No one's ever looked at him like that before, and the thought that you care so much about his wellbeing is shocking.

"I appreciate it," Fox says, his voice low. He pauses for a moment, and then adds, "And thank you, again, for not dissecting me."

The words sound ridiculous, even to his ears, but the joke seems to work. You snort, and the sound is so unexpected that he has to bite back a laugh.

"Well, I did promise," you tease, grinning.

"That you did."

The two of you fall silent again, and this time, it's more noticeable. The noise of the diner fades, and the sounds of traffic from outside are replaced by the pounding of his heart in his ears. The warmth in his chest is still there, and he tries to ignore it, focusing on his meal instead.

He's almost finished when a thought occurs to him, and the words leave his mouth before he can stop them.

"I could help you.”

You look up at him, confusion written on your face.

"With the grant," Fox continues, his voice growing strained. He hadn't meant to offer his assistance, but now that he's started, he can't seem to stop. The ideas are pouring out of him, and the need to please you is making his skin prickle. "I know some people, I could put in a word for you."

"Commander—"

"Fox."

"Sorry, Fox." You let out a nervous laugh and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "That's very kind of you, but I couldn't ask you to do that."

"You're not asking," Fox points out.

"True, but..." You trail off, and a crease forms between your brows. He can tell that you're hesitant, and he wonders if perhaps he'd crossed a line.

"Forget it," he mutters. "I shouldn't have—"

"No, no, it's not that," you interrupt, shaking your head. "I just don't want to take advantage of you. You have a lot on your plate, and I don't want to add to your workload."

"It's not a problem," he assures you. "My duty is to the people of Coruscant, and if there's something I can do to help, I should do it. It's my responsibility."

"You're not responsible for the whole city, Fox," you say softly. Your brows knit together, and you look so sincere, so earnest, that he can't stop the wave of affection that crashes over him. "You can't fix everything."

"I can try," he shrugs. "And I think the Chancellor would agree with me. It's a good cause, and it could benefit a lot of people."

"The Chancellor?" you ask, blinking. "You'd talk to the Chancellor?"

Fox tries not to scoff. Of course, he'd talk to the Chancellor. He talked to him every day, multiple times a day. Sometimes, it seemed like the only thing he ever did was talk to him.

"I'm sure he'd be happy to hear about the medical center's needs," Fox says, his voice flat.

"That's..." You pause, and the look of surprise on your face melts into something else, something softer, and his chest tightens. "You're sweet."

"I'm not," he mutters, his face heating up. Sweet? What did that mean?

"Yes, you are." You laugh and lean forward, a playful smirk on your face. "And if you insist, I'll take you up on your offer."

"Okay," he says, nodding. He picks up his cup and takes a sip of his caf, hoping that it will hide his blush.

"I'll send you my contact info," you say, smiling at him. "And maybe we can get dinner sometime. To discuss the proposal, of course."

"Of course."

"You pick the place," you add, your eyes sparkling. "And this time, don't run off."

"I promise," he says, and the corners of his mouth lift into a smile.

The two of you exchange frequencies, and the conversation quickly turns to lighter topics. The stress of the day, the exhaustion, and the anxiety seems to fade away, and Fox finds himself relaxing. He's actually enjoying himself, and the knowledge that it's because of you is both comforting and frightening.

It's late by the time you finish eating, and the streets have emptied. You pay for your meal, despite his protests, and the two of you step out into the cool night air. The moon is high in the sky, and the traffic has quieted, but the city is far from silent.

"I guess I should be going," you say, letting out a sigh. "I need to get back."

"Right," Fox says.

The two of you stand in front of the entrance, and Fox fidgets, his hands gripping the edges of his helmet. He's not sure what to do, and he's surprised by the sudden reluctance he feels. The thought of saying goodbye, of walking away, and not seeing you again for who knows how long, leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Let me escort you," he blurts out.

"I...what?"

"It's not safe for you to walk alone this late," Fox explains. He gestures towards the street, and the faint shadows between the street lamps. “The city is dangerous at night."

"Fox," you say, a slight smile tugging at your lips. "I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

"I know," he says, his voice soft. “But it would make me feel better."

"If you insist," you chuckle.

"I do."

"Well, how can I refuse, when you ask so nicely," you tease, and he gives you a small smile.

The two of you walk side by side, and Fox's eyes are drawn to you. The streetlights catch in your hair, and the faint glow highlights your face, casting shadows on your features. You look radiant, and the urge to reach out and touch you, to brush the stray strands of hair from your cheek, is nearly overpowering.

But he doesn't. Instead, he tucks his hands behind his back and follows along, trying to memorize every detail.

The GMF isn't far. Soon, the two of you are standing outside the entrance, and he's almost disappointed. The walk had gone by too fast, and the thought of going back to the barracks alone, back to his empty room and his empty life, makes his chest ache.

"Well," you say, and he's startled to find that the two of you have stopped. "I guess this is where we part ways."

"Looks like it."

You turn towards him, and his breath catches in his throat.

"I had fun tonight," you say, smiling up at him.

"So did I," Fox admits. He hesitates, and then adds, "I'm sorry if I was rude when we first met. It's not often that civilians are so...welcoming."

"Well, it's a shame," you murmur. You step closer, and the smell of lavender surrounds him. His heartbeat picks up, and he's suddenly acutely aware of how close you are. "They're missing out."

"I wouldn't be so sure," he says, his tone dry.

"I would," you say firmly. You reach out and touch his arm, your hand warm even through his armor, and the contact sends a shock through his system. "Thank you, Fox."

He swallows thickly and nods. "Anytime."

"I'll comm you about the grant," you promise, and you squeeze his arm. "Have a good night, Commander."

"You, too," he manages, and then you turn, and disappear through the doors.

He stands there for a moment, watching the door, and a strange sense of longing fills him. It's not the first time he's felt lonely, and the feeling is familiar, but there's something else, something new, that accompanies it. He can't quite name it, but the warmth in his chest spreads through his body, and he lets out a breath, his shoulders slumping.

Maybe Thorn was right. Maybe he'd just needed to take a break. But the way you'd made him feel, the warmth and joy, was something that had never happened before, and it's a feeling that he can't let go.

Maybe things are starting to change.

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[kae-karo]

I saw your tags on the link click post and I love your theory that this isn't the first time lu guang has saved cxs. Would you happen to have the energy to expand on that? I'd... 👉👈 like to hear your thoughts (only if u want to though)

HELLO THANK U FOR THE OPPORTUNITY TO EXPAND ON THIS (for context - x) don't get me wrong i ADORE the sentiment in that post, but i am SO far down the "this isn't the first time lu guang has saved cheng xiaoshi" path that i can't come back lmao

before i say anything else, BUCKLE UP cause i have absolutely zero tangible proof and any canon reasoning for this is a stretch that would make a rubber band look rigid, but i can't stop thinking about it and i'm having fun so here we go

first and foremost: hat guy is a time cop ("cop"). hear me out, i promise this is relevant.

also sorry his name is liu xiao lmao (ignore the moment i thought his name was lu xiao and was about to be like he is the physical manifestation of lu guang and cheng xiaoshi's melding of their powers and/or their lovechild and/or their future combined self and/or- etc u get the idea)

AHEM. okay so. the first number of times we see liu xiao (as a kid and a friend of li tianchen) he seems relatively normal? although he does make a comment that stood out to me when i first watched ep9, where he says "i believe in the near future, you will definitely encounter the opportunity to become a hunter". when tianchen asks if they'll meet again, he says "surely we will" - and then, when they do, he reminds tianchen that he said they'd definitely meet again

he proceeds to comment (when tianchen asks if he has any choice) that "it seems everyone has only one path in their destiny, but in fact, it is made up of countless parallel lines...sometimes we want to change it, but we can't." - this specific phrase is spoken over lu guang's memory of watching cheng xiaoshi get shot.

and of course, we can't forget liu xiao's critical line "i wanna bring all parallel lines together, to turn all uncertainties into certainties." i think that's beyond metaphorical, i think he can not only see (in some sense) the parallel lines of a person's fate/futures/etc, but can manipulate them. or, rather, can corral them all into a single line, a single destiny, a single path for every person

now brief reminder that li tianxi was able to see lu guang's memories when she looked at the pic (revealed in ep12) - and she immediately started crying. i know the implication in that moment (ep10) was that she was experiencing lu guang's pain from the wound, but what if it was more than that? what if she saw his memories, too - in ep12, he implies that he went back to the beginning, presumably the start of the season, effectively, to prevent cheng xiaoshi from dying (hence all his careful planning through the season)

also real quick can we talk about how the passcode to his phone was the time (and date?) he went back to save cheng xiaoshi? THEE moment of "he is worth more than my rules". whether this is the first time or the thousandth, i'm still unwell

OKAY so anyway i think i've established that liu xiao has some fascination with timelines and, more precisely, with paring them down to whatever he's determined to be the Correct or Perfect timeline (ie establishing 'certainty') - this is why i call him a time cop like i don't think he's actually executing on some authority i think he's just decided that he has the power and that he wants the world to operate according to his certainties.

ones that lu guang has fucked up by saving cheng xiaoshi. possibly more than once.

for my next act, lu guang's character sheet:

yeah can we talk about age: ? like excuse me ?????? i'm also intrigued by the unknown blood type, but let's ignore that for now lmao

back to his unknown age - why the hell would this be unknown if he's just a guy? cheng xiaoshi has a normal age in spite of his abilities, right? and lu guang's ability is only to view the 12hr surrounding a photo, right?

WRONG. well, right, but also wrong. BEAR WITH ME OKAY cause we're jumping to qiao ling's experience in ep12 now - the moment she held onto tianxi when she died. where we saw...something travel from her to qiao ling. her memories? or her abilities?

now perhaps u, like me, recall lu guang's solitary moment in ep12 where, while covered in blood, he looked at his phone, his eyes turned cheng-xiaoshi-gold, he clapped, and he zoomied back to the past. because he was holding cheng xiaoshi when he died. and thus inherited his power.

OKAY SO why the fuck does that matter !!!! WELL I'M GLAD U ASKED. because we have no problem with cheng xiaoshi's age, right? he's done this 'jump back in time' thing a bunch!!! for 12hr at a time, and then he's back!

okay, but what happens when lu guang, who acquired cheng xiaoshi's power, jumps back to a time before he had cheng xiaoshi's power? now what? how would he jump back (or even be forced back) to his present body and time if he no longer has that ability? wouldn't he now be forced to re-live the hours, days, years after going back to make a change?

in his words, he went back to the beginning, thus he'd have to relive the whole thing, but now, he can make the Right choices this time to protect cheng xiaoshi

but what's a week (or a couple days or whatever it was) in the grand scheme of things? how would his age be unknown if this is the first and only time he's ever done it?

(critical caveat that 'the beginning' could absolutely refer to something far earlier than just the season's start - it could be the beginning of their relationship, for all we know, but let's start here for the sake of keeping this...i'd say manageable but we're well beyond that i am YAPPING)

if his age is so impossible to define, i think it could very easily fit to suggest that he's done this before - possibly many times. so many times that to suggest he's only as old as his physical body would be utterly ludicrous

okay but what in the world would make him want to change fate so often, for so long, so many times? what would make him go against his own rule (*i don't think this was always a rule for him but bear with me, we'll get to that)? well, we know the answer to that :)

so, i don't think this is the first time he's gone back in time to save cheng xiaoshi. i don't think it's the first time he's held cheng xiaoshi as he dies, because that's the way he would've acquired his ability in order to do this (an argument could be made here that he's hidden some facets of his own ability and that he's always been capable of this, but i don't think it was an accident that we saw qiao ling Acquire tianxi's ability)

in fact (if u thought this was all crack theory up to this point, hold onto ur horses) i think the first time he went back in time to save cheng xiaoshi was (seriously, hold on tight) when cheng xiaoshi died with his parents when he was a kid

that's right i'm going all the way baby. i think cheng xiaoshi was supposed to die when he was a kid. why the hell did his parents leave him all alone? to go on some random trip?? like we all agree this is peculiar right???? how does NOBODY know what happened to them, where they were, etc?

now i could go into possible scenarios (lu guang was a kid, too, and didn't know what he was doing, lu guang knew EXACTLY what he was doing and that it would have consequences, lu guang didn't even know he HAD any abilities til he tried to save cheng xiaoshi, the list goes on) BUT the gist of this being: i think lu guang saved cheng xiaoshi. i think he went back in time (into his own body) and figured out the right choices to make (maybe after many tries) to ensure that cheng xiaoshi didn't go with his parents. that he stayed home, for whatever reason, and survived

now why do i believe this, you may be asking? because it's fun, of course !!! and because we have no idea what happened to his parents yet, so i'll continue to theorize in the meantime lmao

you could also alternatively suggest that the going back in time to save cheng xiaoshi doesn't start until after they meet - i mean, hell, look at the situations they get themselves into just within the span of two seasons, they are RIFE with danger. like, cheng xiaoshi could've died MANY times !!!!

but honestly what really sells me is - going ALL the way back to the post that i linked at the start - lu guang didn't hesitate. not only did he already know, but he had no qualms with immediately (still covered in blood) going back to before and doing this all over again. unlike qiao ling, who does not appear to realize she has tianxi's ability, lu guang seems to immediately understand that he has cheng xiaoshi's. that just smacks of experience

(also, an aside: what photo did he use? how far back did he go? there's another route of course - did he go so far back that he's relived his life to such a notable degree that calling him whatever age of his physical body would be missing a notable number of years? in which case, one could argue that this could be the first time, though his immediate knowledge of acquiring cheng xiaoshi's remains unexplained. ANYWAY i digress)

okay back to the point here - lu guang immediately knowing that he has cheng xiaoshi's ability and using it without hesitation, though he does comment on how he broke his own rule. and it sounds like a first-time thing, but consider...

what if this is the first time he's broken it since making the rule?

enter time cop hat guy (i hear u, i promised this was relevant), aka our boi liu xiao who wants to create 'certainties' by (presumably) eliminating branching possibilities in some regard to create single paths/fates/destinies/etc. for lack of a better way to phrase it, a single timeline where everything can be predicted and accounted for (yeah...i suspect we'll be unpacking some of his trauma in s3)

now, different choices mean different outcomes - different timelines, a long list of uncertainties. i think liu xiao aimed to stop that. i also think that his ability gives him some kind of godlike manipulation over timelines (how else would he speak with such confidence about making this future a reality?) assuming, of course, that he has no interference from others with similar abilities

enter lu guang, who has now - potentially multiple times - messed with liu xiao's perfect timeline, one wherein cheng xiaoshi dies (not necessarily with intentional malice, just by virtue of securing whichever certainties liu xiao wants). this, of course, is a problem for liu xiao

and perhaps he makes lu guang's life a living hell - hey, why not go all the way? perhaps he makes a point of manipulating the timeline to kill cheng xiaoshi in new and horrifying ways, again and again, just to watch lu guang play this pathetic game trying to save him by going back in time. perhaps it's entertaining, for a while, but he grows tired of it eventually

so, he proposes an agreement: he'll stop trying to kill cheng xiaoshi, but lu guang has to agree never to manipulate his perfect timeline again (or something similar, you get the idea - they reach a ceasefire of sorts wherein they both, to an extent, get what they want)

thus, the rule was born - whatever they do, they cannot ever change these critical nodes. so long as lu guang adheres, liu xiao won't try to kill cheng xiaoshi

but then someone else does. someone else succeeds. and lu guang breaks his side of the deal, he changes the timeline. he knows exactly what he's doing, what he may invoke, but he does it anyway (i'm fully writing my own au of this story at this point lmao but hey, hope ur having fun if u made it this far)

and so liu xiao returns from abroad, because he has a score to settle

[don't ask me why s3 is set in london and they look like they're teaming up, i'm all for a 'forced to work together' arc but how that fits in with this wildly out of pocket theory is beyond me lmao]

anyway hope u enjoyed this delve into my silly goofy theory !!!! thank u deeply for the ask LMAO

[11x13kyle]

hi feel free to ignore this if you ain't taking asks about this topic anymore. but i feel the need to rant. I saw a post that went something like "If you like one sided kyman you are still a kyman shipper" and I'm like huh???? like.... yes I headcanon Cartman has some fucked up crush on Kyle. no, that doesn't mean I'm rooting for them to get together romantically??? and I'm sure as fuck not comfortable with seeing kyman fanart and fics for personal reasons I do not wish to delve into

but yeah curious to hear your take on this. hope you are having a great summer tho

i’ve seen this take many times and it always pisses me off because it reflects a larger issue to me which is that it feels like many people only know how to analyze media through a “shipping” lens and nothing else. this isn’t to say shipping isn’t fun, it totally is, but it’s frustrating because it means that if you want to talk about other nuanced relationship dynamics there’s an assumption that you’re shipping by default and not just like. observing patterns.

so like with the one-sided kyman/cartman crush thing — i feel like there is a lot in the show that leads me to believe that cartman has some kind of fucked up crush on/obsession with kyle. at the same time, kyman makes me viscerally upset and uncomfortable to see and i have all the tags that feature it filtered for my own peace of mind. and i have been told by people that these two things are contradictory because it’s “still shipping” which makes exactly zero sense to me. the way i see it, shipping is inherently a two way street and has to involve attraction on either side, and it also involves me (the viewer/reader/etc.) enjoying the act of imagining them together. shipping to me does not include looking at a character’s behavior and going “huh. that character seems to have a weird thing for the other character. fucked up!”

and fandom aside, let’s put this in a real life context for a second so i can really just emphasize how silly this take is: imagine some guy has a crush on you and you hate him, absolutely despise him, but you know that he has a crush nonetheless. you tell your friend the objective fact that he has a crush on you and your friend replies “EW! i can’t believe you want to date him!! oh god that’s disgusting, what’s wrong with you???” even though you never even hinted at reciprocating. this would be really odd, right? we all know that one person being attracted to another person doesn’t equal a relationship in reality, why can’t that translate to how we view media? shipping isn’t the be all end all of analysis!

sorry this got long, it will happen again and again. and i am having a great summer, i hope you are too!!!! :]

[xplrvibes]

Omg they're actually addressing the thing going on with the girls. I'm actually amazed. I thought they'd continue to do the SnC thing of ignoring it all.

If you're talking about what they said on xplrclub, I just finished watching that and while part of me is surprised it got brought up at all, another part of me is not.

Colby has been through this so many times in his life that I think if he had his druthers, they wouldn't have even bothered at this point. But Sam has never really been canceled or had people mad at him for any sustained period of time before and no matter how often he tells Colby to ignore the shit when it happens to him, I knew Sam himself wouldn't be able to when the shoe was on his foot lol.

For anyone who doesn't have xplrclub, nothing of any substance was explained in terms of relationship status or anything, so you aren't missing out. I am a big proponent of not sharing stuff from xplrclub but in the interest of making sure more misinformation doesn't spread around I will summarize what was said, just this once.

They just basically said that they were unaware that their photos were being taken on NYE with the purpose of being posted publicly, and were very unaware that they were going to be posted all over social media when they woke up the next day . They had a moment where they "shit a brick" when they saw all of the pics in their tags and realized what happened.

They didn't mean to hurt any feelings and didn't mean to "shove it in everyone's face" (and Sam did reference his understanding that there were hurt feelings from fans because of his previous relationship with Kat), but they are 27 years old and are going to have private lives. They will try not to let their private lives spill out into public again, etc etc etc.

And that was it. Basically, they have been sufficiently chastised and know they were wrong for *checks notes* openly going on dates.

[non-fantasy]

HONEYWORKS

THANK YOU DANDYLIONY AND VIO AND NILLY

blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most)

i'm not sure what you expected. of course it's liphiyo. this is my favourite image of them. i love them so much. they are so good. i will not rest until i make a liphiyo fandom with my own bare hands.

scrunkly (my “baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped)

I AM NOT SURE WHAT YOU EXPECTED FROM ME. SHE IS SO GOOD AND SO SHAPED AND I WANT TO SQUISH HER LITTLE CHEEKS SO MUCH. I LOVE HER. I LOVE HER SOOOO MUCH SHE IS SOOOO CUTE. I LEGITIMATELY STRUGGLED TO PICK A PICTURE OF HER TO USE HERE BECAUSE I HAVE SO MANY GOOD ONES <- (ALL OF THEM ARE GOOD) AND I WOULD HAVE BEEN IMAGE LIMITED AGAIN IF I POSTED ALL OF THEM. I STILL CANNOT NOT POST THESE ONES

scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave)

fuuma is so good and i love him. he is so gender. it's literally like almost the two year anniversary of the last time we saw dolce, ever, but also i love him. there is a reason there is a "fuuma & hiyori" friendship tag on ao3 and the reason is me. they are besties in my head <- (they have never interacted ever)

(i can and will ramble too hard about fuuma and hiyori and cinderella motifs and what that means for liphiyo and kazufuuma if provoked.)

glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won’t shut up about it for a week)

OKAY THIS IS THE THING. THAT PEOPLE NEED TO KNOW. HIYORI HAS A BEST FRIEND IN HER HOMETOWN. I DON'T KNOW IF SHE STILL EXISTS BECAUSE SHE HASN'T BEEN MENTIONED IN YEARS???? BUT??? (ponytailed girl in gamushara isn't her because they have different hairstyles)

her name is satoe and i don't remember what her last name is, which is bad, because i'm like the only person who cares that she exists.

because like!!! the scene of her getting hiyori to eat pocky with her is a silly scene with a lot of poly implications and it's funny that satoe literally showed hiyori pictures of her future boyfriends and hiyori didn't recognize the two at all despite eating SO MANY of the boxes. but also

it's a sweet and touching scene because hiyori is afraid to go to high school in a new city and considers giving up on track and field to try and stay where she is but satoe refuses to let that happen!!! she encourages hiyori to go for it because she KNOWS hiyori wouldn't be happy giving up a dream so precious to her and gives hiyori a push forward! she's literally the reason why the plot could happen, but she's been forgotten and overlooked and i want justice!!! i want her back!!! i want her to find out that her best friend has somehow managed to start dating her idols despite not recognizing them at all!!!!

poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave)

i refuse to interact with the fandom enough to know what the controversies are or who's unpopular (though i learn who's unpopular through my friends sometimes). i can only think of koyuki and minami for being pathetic but also if i say that i think mar will go "you're using poor little meow meow wrong"

can i say that aizo and yujiro are poor little meow meows to hiyori's cinnamon rolls? because i will just to post more liphiyo pics

horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason)

i'm sure the reason i would torment this man is obvious just by looking at him

okay for legal reasons (self-preservation) i need to clarify that was a joke. i torment him because i saw japanese fans shipping him and manager uchida but like. arrogant teenage boy crushing on an adult woman and she's just ignoring him kind of way. and i thought it was hilarious and i think it'd be funny if that was how every one of his ships played out, even the ones with boys his age.

eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell)

liphiyo angels to devils with reincarnation au-- (I AM FORCIBLY RESTRAINED)

--honestly. probably ken. i love writing him and i love his dynamic with aizo but also. he's just fundamentally the kind of guy you need to punt sometimes <3

[s7toru]

FLAWLESS EXECUTION — GOJO SATORU

in which gojo helps you escape death by recovering your memories the only way he knows how, by taking you out on one last date

warnings & tags: 5.3k, pure fluff if you ignore the ending, mutual pining where the only cockblock is the fact that you're a wanted criminal, profanities, dumb gojo and dumber fem!reader, lukewarm makeout scene, tons of bickering, amnesia plot

an impenetrable fog clouds your thoughts, keeping them apart from sparking and making sense of your situation. with a groan, you lift your head and slowly track your eyes around the unfamiliar room.

white papers with odd symbols decorate all four walls, fluttering ominously despite the lack of wind. you seem to be sitting in a chair, though how you got here and why your hands were being constrained to said chair was a mystery. the position causes your shoulders to ache as your arms are pulled behind you, tucked away using a strong knot. 

with a yank, you attempt to free your wrists but the rope only digs deeper.

"you're awake."

your head snaps up at the sound, locking eyes with the man in front of you, seated in a similar chair to yours. somehow, he makes the chair seem small. his white hair and obnoxious black blindfold is hard to ignore, which makes you wonder how you could have missed the sight of him earlier.

"who are you?" you croak, throat protesting after the lack of use. "where am i?"

"you ask a lot of questions, don't you?"

"are you going to answer any of them?"

"my name is gojo, gojo satoru." the man swings his arms over the front of the chair, leaning forward. "and you're in a waiting room."

"waiting for what?"

"execution."

"what?" the noise escapes you before you can think them through. weren't you just a normal, ordinary citizen last time you checked? there was no way the small shenanigans you got up to in your average life would ever result in a death sentence much less in a filthy, dim lit room such as this one. "listen, i think you have the wrong person. if you let me go now, i won't tell anyone what happened!"

"that's real cute, name, but i definitely have the right person."

you flinch when he says your name. "the worst thing i've ever done is illegally crack games. i'm sorry for doing that, i repent. but don't you think execution is a bit too much?"

"this isn't about your irrelevant gaming addiction. this is about the lives of millions." gojo stands from his seat and you have to crane your head to hold his eyes. "you're name, ex jujutsu student, current rogue sorcerer. on a causal saturday, you annihilated an entire clan albeit an irrelevant one, and now the higher ups of the jujutsu society want you dead. you decided that the best plan of action was to mind manipulate yourself with your curse technique and forget all about it, society and all, living instead as a normal citizen."

he circles around you, whispering the last few words in your ear. "ring any bells?"

you jerk away, wishing your hands were free so you could cup your red ears. "what is wrong with you? and no i don't remember, what is a jujutsu anyway?"

gojo shrugs. "i didn't expect you to remember. your control over your cursed techniques was always really good. as you are right now, you're simply a less interesting shell of who you once were." his hand lightly holds onto your arm and you have to twist your neck to watch.

slowly, he drags his fingers down your arm before stopping at the rope. "now that we have you in our hands again, the higher ups are going to execute you. want to know why?"

"isn't it because you think i'm responsible for ending lives?"

"correct! you're catching on quicker than when you hadn't erased your memory." even though you didn't know the you he was referring to, you still felt insulted on her behalf. "but it's also because you're useless to them in your current state. without knowledge of jujutsu, they have no use for you."

"jujutsu this, jujutsu that, why don't you just let me go before i get the cops on you, you lunatic." you growl.

his finger shakes on your wrist as he laughs. "do you think non-jujutsu people could hurt me?" gojo gives the rope a tug and the knot comes apart, thudding to the floor. your wrist fall at the loss of the ropes and you immediately pull them tight to your chest, scootching to the edge of the chair to place distance between the two of you.

with a newfound caution, you study gojo. "thank you?"

he grins. "no problem."

"didn't you say the authorities wanted me dead? why are you setting me free?"

"you aren't useful to them as you are now, which is why you're set up for death. the simple answer to this situation then, is to pretend like you remember who you are. if you do that, then they can place you on a leash and get you to do their bidding before they get bored and decide to kill you again!"

you stare at him. "so death or later death. those are the options i get?"

"i'm glad you get it!"

you clear your throat. "that's nice and all but—"

with a start, you stand up and grab the legs of the chair, lifting it over your shoulder before throwing it at the suspicious man. you made sure to put all your strength behind it, hoping to dent the ridiculous smile he had on his face.

unfortunately, the chair starts floating in the air.

with the chair in the way, gojo sulks. "that wasn't very friendly of you."

"the, the chair! it's floating? how are you doing that?" you babble mindlessly. there's only one conclusion you can reach. "you're magic."

"i'm jujutsu, technically." gojo gestures with his fingers and the chair settles back comfortably on the ground. "shall we have a talk? without any thrown chairs?"

there's a silence whilst you judge your options. there was a door in the room, obviously, but the fact gojo wasn't guarding it made you uncertain. and, you'd seen him stop a chair in the air with his mind alone. he was no longer a person you wanted to deal with.

you look back and sit on the chair he was sitting at earlier, and he rests on yours. you clear your throat, pressing your knees together and bringing your hands into your lap in hopes to appear smaller under his gaze. “sorry.”

“you’re oddly timid.”

“well,” you hesitate. “you’re magic.”

“it’s jujutsu.” he clarifies again. “and you’re made of it too. that’s how you massacred a family clan twenty one days ago and how you wiped your memory five days after that.”

“you’re saying all this but i really can’t imagine myself doing that.”

"can you imagine yourself doing anything?"

you open your mouth to question his strange words, then close it abruptly. under the spotlight, you couldn't fathom an image of your person. there were vague ideas, like the fact you had been working cooperate before this incident, or the fact that you had a cute little kitten waiting in your single apartment, but details about your likes or interests were blurry.

you swallow, but it's uncomfortable and your mouth is dry. "seriously?" you whisper. "i did all that?"

something on his face falls before he picks it up. "cheer up, name! that's why i'm assigned to your case. all you have to do is follow my orders and i'll get your memories back one way or another!"

"and the whole execution thing?"

he's still smiling as he say, "we'll work it out when we get there."

whatever comfort you felt at his previous words dissipates. "that sounds reassuring."

"doesn't it?" gojo seem oddly proud of his words. "now, you understand the gist of the situation, yes?"

"you all have it out to get me?" you murmur, somehow bitter.

"yes, and the only thing standing between you and death is your technique. and me. all you have to do is pretend you've reversed your technique on yourself and allow yourself to be used by the society. while that's happening, i'll help you actually get your memories back."

"and how will you do that?" you narrow your eyes at him. "did we know each other before the whole, you know, incident?"

"i was also a student back then. with you."

you scan him under a different perspective. "were we close, back then?" you ask.

gojo doesn't give an immediate answer. in fact, his entire body suddenly becomes rigid and his relaxed posture gives way to looking awkward.

"or not?" you murmur under your breath, looking away and clearing your throat to cover up the pause. that was embarrassing.

"we were close." gojo finally says after a moment's silence. "yeah, we were pretty close, huh."

something about his words make you think it's less that he's talking to you, rather that he was talking to himself.

it was his turn to clear his throat, readjusting his facial features to look joyful again. "you have so many questions, name. i can go through each and every one of them, but after you make your decision. it'll be useless to know all this information if you're just going to die here, after all."

"let's not get ahead of ourselves here, i don't even trust you yet. what makes you think you can recover my memories?"

that same, sad smile. "i found you again, didn't i?"

gojo doesn't elaborate on his words, allowing them to sit in the air.

there was something heavy in your chest. the entire time the two of you had been speaking, you've felt it like a persistent ache. yearning might be a word to describe it, but it was stronger, more intense, an innate emotion that kept your eyes on his. somehow, you knew his eyes would be the most brilliant blue. the thought left you curious, and before you could think it through, you were already making up your decision.

"i'll do as you say." you whisper, finally.

you shove the crepe in your mouth and hum in delight as the delicious aromas of chocolate and powdered sugars surround you. the steady bustle of the cafe moves all around you and there's a kind of comfort that comes from watching the world continue, even when you yourself had stopped moving. 

gojo watches you, sipping absentmindedly at his hot chocolate, doused in chocolate syrup and wearing a heaping of whipped cream. it’s untouched and you find such a sight a rarity, though you’re not sure why. "when i said to tell me something that might recover your memory, i thought you'd say something like seeing a family member, or visiting your workplace. not go out to get a crepe."

you lick chocolate off your finger. "you must have kidnapped me before i had breakfast because all i can think about is sugar right now." 

“whatever, just hurry up. clearly, it's not doing anything for you and there’s nothing good about this place except for its crepes.”

“and god are the crepes good.” 

he makes a face at your words, chewing at his straw. 

“are you sulking?” 

“no. are you ever going to finish that crepe or do i have to jump in and help you?”

“so you are sulking.” you hold out your crepe to him, offering the dessert with a smile. “i’m sure you’ll feel better if you take a bite.”

gojo blinks before leaning forward, taking a massive chomp and chasing after a dribble of nutella as it drips out. he misses, and it lands just above his lip. 

you giggle as he licks it up. “well?”

“i guess i do feel better.” 

your laughter cuts short, crepe pausing halfway to your mouth. "that felt way too natural."

gojo doesn't say anything, pretending to take his time chewing the mouthful of crepe he stole from you. you give him a skeptical look before returning to the more important task of figuring where the next bite should be.

should you take the bite along the edge where there was less filling? it would ensure your next bite would be the best, abundant with powdered sugar, banana and nutella. or should you take the mediocre bite near the middle making your next bite similarly mediocre? before you can make up your mind, gojo's face drops down close to yours and scarfs down the entire thing.

you cry out but the damage has been done. you hadn't even noticed him standing from his seat and heading over to you.

gojo pulls back, humming appreciatively, and wipes a thumb to catch the residue on his lips. "now that i've tried it, they really are good."

"my crepe!"

"i think a strawberry crepe would go crazy right about now."

"my crepe!"

gojo gives you a funny look. "yes, i heard you the first time."

"then you'd know that i'm furious right now!" you stand up too, intending to appear intimidating. "you ate my crepe! all of it!"

"you had a few bites."

"it wasn’t enough." you growl.

a grin splits across his face. "i hear desserts taste better when they're shared."

"whoever said that was idiotic." something in his smile makes you pause. slowly, you draw your finger up and point it to your chest. "me?"

he nods.

"oh." you crumble up the napkin in your hands, the one that once held your beloved crepe, and toss it into a nearby bin. it goes in easily, and you wonder if you had been athletic before the incident. "what were we doing eating desserts together?"

looking up, gojo was already at the door.

you hurry to catch up to him. "hey! i wasn't finished talking yet!"

"i'm taking things into my own hands." he says, strolling down the sidewalk with a confidence that has you following after. "you're not going to find your memories at the end of a crepe."

"i might." you huff, settling at a comfortable pace beside him. "so? where are we headed?"

he scans the streets in silence.

it was midday, if the bright, hot sun was any indication, and a weekend at that meaning the sidewalks were busy with excited high schoolers seeking a break and partners bonding in their quality time, holding hands and giggling amongst themselves. you peek down at gojo's empty hand and wonder why you can imagine the grooves and bumps of his fingers.

"the game arcade across the road." gojo says suddenly, and you blink away the temptation. "it was your favourite."

"claw machines." you breathe out. "even without my memories i think i remember the sensation of losing my sanity to small plushies."

"looks like i made the right choice then." gojo grins down at you, stopping at a crossing. the red light flickers to green and the accompanying beeping tells you to move, but gojo stays still.

you tilt your head at him. "something wrong?"

he pauses before shaking his head. "nothing. come on, hurry up! the arcade might close before you even step inside."

"you're the one looking like a deer caught in headlights."

"do you like deers?"

"what?"

"deers. do you fancy them?"

you blink at him. "they're cute."

a smirk splits across his face. you might be imagining it, but gojo's stride is somehow bouncier, full of energy, but you find it isn't distasteful.

as you enter, you're surprised to finding no one looking at the both of you. sure, at first sight you hadn't noticed anything off about gojo's attire but after staring at him for so long, you wonder why it was that not a single person was pointing and laughing at his ugly navy outfit. it didn't help that he was tall, towering over you as he slides a coin into the machine, and that he adorned a thick blindfold over his eyes. surely, he would be a sight that garnered attention.

"gojo." you start, maneuvering the joystick over the plushie that had caught your eye. "why isn't anyone making fun of you?"

he doesn't say anything for a while as you play. "what? why would they?"

you spare his a doubtful look. "i mean, look at you."

"what does that mean? name, use your words."

"you're not very conventionally dressed." you put it lightly.

"i think this uniform looks great on me!"

the claw misses the plushie by a large margin, and you pretend you don't hear gojo laugh. gritting your teeth, you slide in your own coin and readjust the claw. "you look terrible, like you're wearing a cosplay."

"it's the jujutsu uniform, we're all made to wear it."

"damn." you mumble, paying just enough attention to reply. the small strawberry cow plush stares into your soul, telling you that this attempt would be the one to take it home. you listen to its calling, bumping the joystick towards it. "i must have looked pretty terrible in that, then."

"you looked great." a pause. "i mean, you still do."

your hand suddenly twitches, bumping into the claw and sending it down into the pit prematurely. swearing, you watch as it inevitably misses the plushie you had been eyeing and grabs a whole clawful of nothing but air.

gojo whistles. "even without your memory, you're still as terrible. i thought losing your memories would turn you to a different person, guess you're still the same terrible player i once knew."

you whip your head to look at him. "what did you say before?"

"you're shit at the game?"

"that's not what you said. and no i'm not, you just messed me up, is all."

he's wearing that irritating smirk again and you hate how attractive you find him. "i bet i could do better."

you cross your arms, stepping back. "you’re free to try.”

unfortunately, he really is good. there’s an ease in his fingers you had lacked, a type of inherent skill that allows him to grab plushie after keychain after more plushies. at the end of it, your arms are full of every stuffed toy you could ever want, and every machine has been touched by his talented hands at least once. face framed by the heads of all of gojo’s wins, you glare at him. it pisses you off.

“whatever.” you say.

“so, still think you’re better?” gojo dangles two keychains around his finger, the sanrio characters bumping into each other as they spun. your eyes track the movement. 

“fine, you can have this win. i won’t uncover whatever cheat you used to get so many.” 

“you still can’t admit when you’ve lost.”

you huff, looking away. “i didn’t lose.” you say, but it doesn’t manage to convince even yourself. 

something flies at you and instinct has you stretching out your arms, balancing the plushies using the bend of your elbow, catching the small object easily. when you open up your palm, the small sanrio keychain stares up at you with black, beady eyes. 

you flash gojo a look and find him holding up his own keychain, the sanrio characters wearing matching sailor outfits. even though your arms are full of prizes, the tiny keychain feels the heaviest in your hands. “what’s up with you? haven’t you given me enough already?” a smile threatens to escape, but you bite down on your lip. 

gojo shrugs, trying to look nonchalant. “they’re matching.” he says, as if it wasn’t obvious enough. “my students would make fun of me if i came back with these. so i’ll just give this one to you.” 

warmth overflows in you and you laugh. “looks like you still can’t admit to being cheesy.”

he doesn’t join in and your chuckles trail off, somewhat uncertain. worried that you had offended him, you sneak a peek at his expression and find him looking strangely perplexed.

something was dawning on you, and it was dawning quickly, threatening to ram into your mind and dump three years worth of memories into your brain, him in the centre of it all.

before you can breathe out the conclusion you’ve reached, the glass window at the front of the arcade shatters, and your body dodges to the side just as something flies out at you. unlike what gojo had thrown at you moments ago, this was a less appreciated move. 

gojo hisses out a curse, reaching out to grab your hand. “we need to go.” 

there’s a sense of urgency in his voice you don’t dare to disobey, so you quickly push your pile of plushies into the arm of a confused bystander, ensuring the single sanrio keychain remains in your pocket. “what’s going on?” you ask over the chaos. 

“i lied.”

“what?”

the two of you dance around the aisles, avoiding the window as much as possible. at the off chance you’re able to glance out past the shattered glass, you make out a dark figure crouched on a building opposite to the arcade, a small red light shining from their position. customers had gathered around the front, whispering amongst themselves and you feel a spike of danger. “gojo, we need to help!”

“they’re after you, name. and jujutsu techniques won’t hurt non-jujutsu citizens, the only person you should worry about is yourself.” gojo clarifies, dragging you out into the street. “they want you dead.”

his hand squeezes yours in emphasis and you wonder why it felt so natural to squeeze back. instead of bringing it up, you say, “but i thought i had time! i thought i just needed to remember…”

gojo drags you into another building, free hand pulling out a phone. “damnit.” he was muttering to himself. “they weren’t meant to realise i broke you out so quick.” 

it falls into place in an instant. the jujutsu society had never intended to give you a chance, your execution was determined the moment your body was brought to that small, ominous room, your fate sealed when the door closed shut behind you. but gojo had other plans. he had taken you out, given you one more day with him.

and then what? you wonder. what were you to him that he would go to such lengths and betray those higher? this wasn’t the time to confront your newfound memories, but you do so anyway, squeezing your eyes shut as gojo leads you further in, embracing the rush of comfort you feel as your cursed technique loosens its grip on your soul and you remember.

three years flash past your eyes, of late night slumber parties in getou’s room watching horror movies tucked under his doona, of convenience store icecream and breaking icepoles apart perfectly, of one summer night where gojo had pulled you aside, awkwardly confessing one day early simply because you had looked so pretty under the moonlight, and the teasing cheers shoko and getou had echoed when you rejoined them. the memories come faster now, and every single one is with him. 

until they don’t, until it all halts and ends in a room covered in blood. 

you gasp painfully, pulling your hand back from his to clasp at your head. you're whole again, ambitions, love, memories and all.

gojo pauses almost immediately, looking back at you with concern. “name? hey! name, what’s wrong?” 

“satoru.” you seek comfort in his name, and relish in the familiarity of saying his name. “i think i—”

he catches you as you stumble forward though there’s no time to stand around because the both of you sense your pursuers hot on your heels. you tune your technique to the employees within the office building and skim through their memories. the layout of the block sketches out across your mind, and you grab onto gojo’s hand, ignoring his words of concern as you pull him towards where you know there will be less people. “i’m fine, but not for long if we stay here. this way.”

you drag gojo around the corner, and find yourself staring at a dead end. panicked, you glance around for anything, really anything that you could hide behind, and find nothing.

"name—"

your eyes catch a door and with relief, you rush over. "satoru, in here!" he follows wordlessly, entering the storage cupboard with only the slightest hesitation, and watches as you wiggle in yourself, slamming the door behind you.

his breath tickles your forehead and you lean into his chest, telling yourself that you didn't want to be pressed against the door if it is ever thrown open by your pursuers.

gojo breathes out your name again, low so as to avoid being heard from anyone but you. “back up a little.”

“sorry.” you mumble into his chest, but there’s little space to step back.

even though he had told you to place distance between the two of you, his arm hovers on your lower back, and he clears his throat before saying, “you’re calling me satoru again.” 

you curse him. “is this the right time to be talking about this?” you glance over your shoulder to try and sense your pursuers but gojo grabs your chin, turning it back to face him.

"forget about that, look at me."

"i'm looking and let me tell you i am not impressed." you shake off his hold. "we can reunite later, right now we need to—"

"i missed you."

you almost break your neck spinning around.

your lips quiver, struggling to hold back a stupid smile. "are you serious right now? you're doing this here?"

“well.” gojo starts. something in his voice makes you look at him, look at him properly. you can’t make out the direction of his gaze past the blindfold, but you’re suddenly conscious of his lips as they part to speak. you watch as his tongue sweeps his bottom lip, out of nerves perhaps, and maybe he’s watching you just as intently because they stretch into a smirk. 

you aren’t able to revel in the sight because his lips crash onto yours in an instant, and instincts take over to reciprocate the kiss. gojo’s hand finds purchase in your hair, fingers tangled in your strands, and his other tightens around your waist, pulling you even closer. you can only vaguely feel this happen, too immersed in the feeling of his lips and tongue against yours. you press up against his chest and run your hands up his nape just the way he’s admitted to liking before. 

he tries to utter your name but it’s swallowed up by a groan. there’s a hunger in you that you doubt could be fulfilled today, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try. 

you yelp as his tongue sweeps a sensitive spot in your mouth, and you almost whine when you feel him pull back, slightly. 

“sorry, are you sure you remember—” gojo starts, and you see his frown through bleary eyes.

you don’t let him finish, reaching up to continue the kiss, muttering a quick “please” in hopes that he will understand your need. he pulls you closer, parting your legs with his knees. 

when the two of you break away, you’re panting for air.

gojo tenderly brushes a strand of hair from your face. “does this mean you remember me?” he asks, voice hoarse, lips swollen, fingers lingering on your cheek. 

you resist the urge to kiss him stupid, and laugh instead. “would i  have kissed you otherwise? of course i remember.” the memories were overwhelming you still, and the emotions you feel carry over until the present you feels it too, smiling up at him like a lunatic.

he’s beaming from ear to ear, and you think he might go in for another kiss, but he drops his head onto your shoulder instead. “you don’t know how annoyed i am at you.”

running your hands through his hair, you hum. “why’s that?”

“you left me! and the worst way possible too, you know i still have trauma from getou.” 

“i had no choice.” 

“you could have taken me with you.” 

you fiddle with his ear. “your future’s too bright. you could, well, can, do better than wherever i shackle you to. i couldn’t drag you down with me. and hey, you found me anyway.” 

gojo straightens. “right, and now we’re being chased by some of the best jujutsu sorcerers and they want my lover dead.”

“i have you, aren’t you the strongest?” 

he lets that compliment settle on his shoulders before shaking his head. “i’m trying to tell you that you made a mistake. don’t you feel even the slightest remorse for leaving me?” 

you go on your tip-toes to give him a quick peck, but nothing that’ll last any longer. “of course i do, that’s why i left you the address to my apartment. but this is just the start, you know it too.” even now, you can feel the persistent cling of someone's cursed energy seeking you out.

he follows you after you pull back, and you should have none something like a peck wouldn't be enough to satisfy his longing.

gojo slides his hand into yours, and gives it a painful squeeze. pulling you close, he presses his lips fiercely against yours again, pushing past your weak defenses to savour you completely. it's hopeless, this kiss, all desperation and sorrow, and you taste your own regret in his mouth. but it can't change anything, no matter how hard he grips your cheek, no matter how painful he imprints his mouth against yours.

it's hopeless.

"satoru, you need to let me go." you mumble into the kiss, feeling his will break in your arms. 

your lips part with a pop and when he looks at you it's clear he's annoyed. "again."

"yeah, again."

"you have to understand why i don't want to do that, name." he says through gritted teeth. as if to emphasise, his fingers dig deeper into your wrists.

the sounds of footsteps thud faster, and the sensation of someone’s cursed energy radiates throughout the entire building, overwhelming and threatening you to come out. you didn’t sense anyone in the corridor yet, but that won't always be the case, it was only a matter of time, so you wriggle out of his hold, intent on running.

he catches your hand again, still frowning. "name."

"satoru, i'll find you, i promise."

he doesn't answer, his expression says enough.

you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood, having been already raw from before , feeling your own reluctance to part like a throbbing ache. but if a little heartbreak was enough to stop your ambitions, you wouldn't have killed that first person way back when. “i'm going to kick down the door." you say.

gojo clicks his tongue, shaking his head shortly after. "you never stop and listen to me."

"maybe give me advice i'd take and i will." you smile to show there's no hard feelings.

he chuckles humourlessly and runs a hand through his hair, "fine, we'll do it your way. just like we always do then?"

"of course."

your countdown doesn’t come out as enthusiastic as it could have, but your body moves as you utter “three”, kicking open the door and rushing out. the door slams into the face of a sorcerer, and you wince at the sound. 

gojo walks around, holding off another pursuer. he glances back at you, reluctance obvious. “hurry.” he says, and you wonder if the urgency is due to the onslaught of sorcerers or from the thinning of his patience and his desire to chase after you. 

you give him a smile because you know the answer. running to the exit, you give him one last glance and find him staring. you reach into your pocket and pull out the keychain he’d won from you earlier, and bring it to your lips. 

“i’ll find you this time.” you mouth. 

giving up, gojo nods and turns back to deal with the attackers.

you leave him as you did the day society had forced your hand, though this time with your memories in tact. if that was the case, finding each other again would be an easy task.

you let your heart be comforted by this thought as you run. 

a/n: we almost dodged the angst ending and it would have ended with "just like we used to :smirk:?" "just like we used to... heh"

[leseigneurdufeu]

(@inklings-challenge i'm honestly not sure i remember what the limit date for the completed work is so i'm tagging you in this since tomorrow is 21/10, and if it was the limit for only the first chapter, then nevermind that, ignore that post, i'll tag you again when the last one is out)

C.4/5: Patience

“You're probably in one of my files. May I have your name?”

“Who are you?” Alfred asked, shaking the fear away.

The plate-and-orbs face tilted slightly and looked at him – if these orbs could see.

“Don't you know me?”

“Pretty sure I haven't met you before.” Alfred said.

“Are you really sure of that?”

That last sentence had been said in a different voice. A voice that sounded familiar to Alfred. The voice of Lefebvre, the soldier in charge of most of the paperwork in Delbecaut's staff.

Another might have been swayed. But Alfred had heard the trick before, when the Faceless Child he had met in the gardens, at his parents' party, had spoken to him in Patrice's voice.

“I know you're not Lefebvre, so cut the crap.” Alfred said, at the end of his nerves. “I want out, and back to where I come from. How do I do that?”

The golden orbs started swirling around in a way Alfred could only describe as nervous. The ceramic shattered along a horizontal line, and Alfred started stepping back, feeling like it was the safest course of action. The ceramic shattered in more bits, which all started spinning around each other and on themselves.

The scope of the ceramic plate started expanding, small golden threads woven between the pieces as if to keep them tethered to each other.

Before... well, Alfred wasn't sure what was going to happen, but before it could happen, someone yelled, and the ceramic reassembled itself, the golden orbs spinning wildly but in a more shocked than nervous way, although Alfred would have been at a loss to explain how he knew that.

A smart costume with a purple tie kept in place by a golden pin arrived. Above the collar of the shirt wasa another ceramic plate with golden orbs, in lieu of a face. Alfred was no longer intimidated by it. He had had enough of this whole circus. What had really broken away his fear was to realise that, whatever world this was, the administration was the same as in his own world: extremely convoluted, mostly useless, and unwilling to understand his plea unless he put it in very simple words.

“Now, now, son, what's going on?” the Purple Tie asked.

“I want to get out of here.” Alfred replied.

“I'm afraid we can't check you out before we've checked you in. Can I have your name?”

“Why would you need to check me in? I'm not from around here. I walked in by mistake. I need to find the door that leads outside, preferably to my workplace.”

“Don't be ridiculous, why would we have a door leading to your workplace?”

“Because I was in my workplace when I took the wrong door and ended up in here.”

“I'll see if I have you on my list nevertheless. Can't hurt, uh? Give me your name and we'll get through with it.”

Alfred sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I am not on your list because I do not belong in this world.” he said.

“How would you know that?” Purple Tie asked.

“Because you're a blasted ceramic plate with golden orbs instead of eyes and I'm human!” Alfred exploded.

*

“What on earth is this place?” Eglantine asked.

The sound of the wind was like a windchime; the sky and the grass were both light purple; the air was too warm for the season. At least she was with Fombelle and Eugène.

“'On earth' might not be the first words to come to mind to describe this place” Fombelle remarked. “Nevertheless, we must proceed. Mr Bredin-Chantaille, I know you have an architecture degree.”

“That's correct.”

“If you could keep tracks of where we are, where we'll go next, and how to walk the same way back if needs me, I'd be grateful.”

“Of course.”

Eugène took out of his pocket a folded paper and a pen, and started laying down a map of the place. When he was done with the preliminary work, they started walking.

“I know Alfred would always go westward if stranded in some place, so he'd have sunlight longer.” Eglantine said. “But if we go westward and we actually landed in some place far western than where he landed, we might miss him.”

“Let's see if there's any landmark.” Fombelle suggested.

He was swinging his fire poker like a sword, testing the balance and such.

The three of them walked side by side, the men on each side of Eglantine, for a while.

“I must say” Fombelle said “I do not believe Monsieur de Brûlemont knew about the secret door.”

“What do you mean?” Eglantine asked.

“I mean that, unless any other proof going either way comes into light, I'm sorry for doubting his innocence. If strange lands, magic portals, and perhaps even fairies, are to be blamed for his disappearance, it stands to reason my usual framework doesn't work. I may be the official representative of the French authorities here, but I would like to entrust you with leading the investigation until we're back in our world.”

“I'd be honoured.” Eglantine said. “But I don't want any more responsibilities.”

“Any more? What responsibilities do you have yet?” Eugène asked, taking his nose off his makeshift map.

“Do you remember that we're getting married in a month?” Eglantine asked, bewildered. “I have most of the preparations to take care of, as well as getting used to being a mistress to your house without any help from anyone. On top of that, the journalists are besieging my parents' houses, trying to find a way to get a picture for their blasted headlines. What responsibilities indeed!”

“I'm sorry” Eugène said, taking her hand. “If you need any help, do tell me. I'll do my best.”

“There is nothing you can do to help while we're here. But once we're back, I might ask for your assistance.”

“And I'll answer to your call. I promise.”

She smiled. He was sweet. He needed to be told when she needed help, but she supposed he couldn't read her mind.

They soon arrived near a tent, with a horse tied to a pole in front of it.

“Strange” Eglantine said. “The horse is almost too... normal.”

“Isn't it even weirder, in such a landscape, to find such a normal animal?” Eugène shrugged.

“You might be right.”

Fombelle entered the tent first, and stopped halfway through. Eglantine came in second, didn't care much for the immense corridor they found themselves in, and immediately yelled:

“ALFRED!”

He turned around, saw them, and exclaimed, panicked:

“HOLD THE DOOR! Don't let it close!”

First chapter of my story for the 2024 @inklings-challenge

I'll post it all on AO3 when I'm done. Posting it now because I need to put it in the open to force myself to write the rest. estimated 5 or 6 chapters. Content Warnings: there's french people😱

Heart of Gold, Blade of Steel

Chapter 1: The Child

August 1904 – The country house of the Baron de Brûlemont's family

“Damn that gas company!” Georges de Brûlemont exclaimed as the flames burning around the dining-room all dimmed at the same time, before taking back their usual brightness. “I hope it doesn't go dark in the middle of the announcement.”

“We still have time. I'll ask the butler to monitor the lights.” Berthe, Georges' wife, said while putting a reassuring gloved hand on his forearm. “The Marcys are here, go and greet them, why don't you?��

Georges nodded and joined Mr Marcy, highest ranking police officer in Paris, and his wife, the sister of a deputy.

“Thank you for joining us tonight.” Georges said. “I hope you are better?”

Marcy scoffed.

“All just memories. But it might be time for me to consider retirement, which is why I brought Fombe... wait, where has Fombelle gone?”

He looked around until he saw a blond man looking at one of the lamps intently.

“If you'll excuse me” he said, leaving his wife in Georges' care before going and dragging the man back with him. “Monsieur de Brûlemont, may I introduce to you Augustin Fombelle. He is my second at the Préfecture and, if he keeps up with his efforts, he will probably be Préfet after I leave.”

“How do you do.”

Fombelle nodded at Brûlemont.

“Then let me introduce my children as well” Georges said.

He took Fombelle off the Marcys' arms and brought him to the buffet, where a lanky boy in dark blue was eyeing the fish terrine, unsure if he could start picking at it before the announcement that officially kicked off the evening.

“My son, Alfred. Alfred, this is Augustin Fombelle, who works under Marcy.”

The two men, the nearly-fourty and the barely twenty, shook hands in silence. Seeing her shy brother forced to make small talk to a stranger, Georges' daughter, Eglantine, swooped in.

“Monsieur.”

Georges heard her, turned to her, and made the introductions there too.

“So you're the belle of the ball, if I understand?” Fombelle asked.

“Well, it is my engagement that will be announced tonight.” Eglantine nodded. “Did Monsieur Marcy not tell you anything before inviting you along?”

“He told me the evening was in your honour, but he neglected to precise the occasion.” Fombelle said.

They exchanged a few pleasantries, then were joined by Eugène Bredin-Chantaille, only son of the famed banker, and Eglantine's fiancé. The young lady made the introductions, and the conversation went on.

Meanwhile, Alfred had sneaked out. He had been feeling rather feverish all day, and couldn't stand the heat of the ballroom now that every guest was there. Well, almost. As long as General Delbecaut and his wife hadn't arrived, the Bredin-Chantailles wouldn't announce the engagement. He still had time. Alfred loved his sister dearly, and didn't want to miss the announcement. Still, his love and devotion for her didn't extend to staying in the hot room any longer.

It was a hassle to make everyone come from Paris, but everyone so far had admitted that the country house of the Brûlemont family was worth the journey. The house was old, if not ancient; woods spread around its gardens, and the fountain in the back was the only ornament that made the house look more like a stately home and less like a fortress. Still, it was nice to go out in the night like that, flee from the heat for a moment.

Alfred was resting on the stone stairs facing the fountain and the back when he heard a soft sob. He first tried to ignore it. If one of the guests was crying, it would do more harm to witness their sorrow than it would to help them.

But the sobs were soft and high, and sounded like the sobs of a child. Alfred thought back to the list of guest, brow furrowing. There were no children invited, and so the only one at the house would be Patrice, his younger brother. What was Patrice doing out in the gardens, if it was he who Alfred heard? He was supposed to have dined early and gone to bed.

Alfred unfolded his long legs and started walking in the direction of the sobs. Padding around the house with no care for the state of his shoes, he walked through the forged iron door on the side of the garden, which for some reason sent a chill down his spine, and to the fountain outside of it, on which a silhouette dressed all in white was resting. Small as a child, and chestnut-haired as Patrice but not Patrice. Patrice was bigger, at almost fourteen.

As soon as Alfred thought that, the silhouette seemed to get bigger. Perhaps it was Patrice after all, and he had been tricked by a reflection of the light.

“Brother” a voice that was not quite Patrice's said, as the sobs interrupted. “I'm lost. Can you give me your hand?”

Alfred hadn't recognised the brother i'm lost, but the voice had changed to become Patrice's on the final question. It was... it was offputting. Of course, it was possible that Patrice's voice was just changed a bit by the crying. But still.

Alfred stopped at a distance from the child.

“Look at me.” he ordered softly.

The child turned towards Alfred.

*

“May I be perfectly candid?” Fombelle asked Eglantine.

“Of course.”

“By some aspects, you remind me of my sister. The same wit, the same disposition, dressed in blue, and... may I risk myself on the guess... same taste in champagne. Canard-Duchêne, isn't it?”

Eglantine smirked.

“Monsieur, you seem like a true connoisseur of champagne.”

“I know only two tastes in champagne: my sister's favorite, and the rest.” he joked.

He looked at his pocketwatch, and added:

“But I must not keep you from the rest of your guests. I was not even invited and I am already hogging the mistress of the house.”

“My mother is the mistress of the house, I am not.” Eglantine chuckled.

“You will be mistress of your own house soon enough.”

And I'm terrified, Eglantine thought, but did not say.

Eugène was perfectly nice. The marriage had been arranged by the parents, but only after both of the interested parties had known each other for years and had developed a mutual esteem, respect and affection. Eglantine didn't fear a marriage with him. She feared however that she would have little help to become the highest authority in the matters of the house when she wouldn't know any servant where she was going, had never balanced a budget without her mother's supervision...

Before she could speak any more word, even of farewell, to anyone, her father and Eugene's both walked to the center of the dancefloor, desert at the moment, and called for everyone's attention.

Alfred came running in through one of the great bay windows, ignored by everyone, and Eglantine smiled. At least, he'd realised it was time to come back. She was glad she would have her brother by her side, although he looked a bit too frantic to actually come and stand by her side, when the announcement would be made.

*

Georges invited everyone to go back to what they were doing, the announcement finished, when he noticed Alfred, shaking – which, with his lanky build, was rather a sight to behold – and trying to reach his sister. Georges intercepted his son, and told him, rather abruptly – it was in his manners:

“Now, calm down, the General is there and you know you have to make a good impression if you want him to take you in his staff for your military time.”

The Brûlemonts were not cowards, and every single one of the men in the family – with the exception of the ones who had become clergymen – had fought valiantly in battle. But as far as military time was concerned, Georges estimated that Alfred could get a soft, safe job and network a bit while he was there. If war there was, Alfred would prove equal to the task – Georges had taught him to shoot, fence and ride himself – but when there were no real stakes on french soil, asking a friend, general or colonel, to take his son under his wing was fair game in his eyes.

Alfred tried to say something about a child out there, but Georges didn't listen. Patrice was in his room and a maid was making sure he wouldn't come out. No guest had brought children. If there was a child, it would be a villager's, and in that case the child knew how to go back home.

“General Delbecaut” Georges said.

“Baron” the General nodded. “I'm sorry we arrived so late. At least we were there in time for the announcement!”

“And in time for the champagne.” Georges laughed, pointing at the glass in the General and his wife's hands. “I see you didn't lose any time on that front.”

“You always have a good nose for wine.” the General complimented him.

“I have no merit in this case: it's Eglantine who picked it.” Georges said. “But where are my manners! This is my son Alfred, whom you have probably already met in passing.”

“In passing, then.” the General said.

Alfred was bad enough with faces not to feel the need to remind the General that they had actually met and spoken at length a few times already. He, himself, only recognised the General because he had a peculiar hair colour and haircut combination that stood out among his parents' friends.

“Then, let's see a bit of you.” the General said. “Tell me, what do you think of the Dreyfus situation?”

Alfred bit his cheek, knowing full well that admitting he supported Dreyfus through and through was not the best answer to give to an officer, and decided to answer:

“The same as you, I'm sure.”

The General chuckled, and said:

“That might actually have been the only correct answer. I don't want people in my staff who will divide it. Diplomats, that's what I need. Very well, Alfred, we'll see you at the beginning of your military time, then. I'll fill the paperwork to have you assigned in my staff.”

And, pretending he had seen some acquaintance, he left the two Brûlemont men together.

“You could have told me he'd test me.” Alfred said.

“I didn't know he would – well, not that way.” Georges answered. “You did well.”

Alfred stayed silent. Now was not the time anymore to speak of the sobbing child, and... well, to be fair, there would probably never be a time for that. Not if he wanted people to believe in his sanity.

[callsigndragon]

The Christmas Date | Chapter 4: Santa Tell Me

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Fem!Kerner!Reader

(Ron Kerner is Slider, Iceman’s backseater)

Wordcount: 2.8k

Summary: Y/n “Athena” Kerner and Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw hate each other. Everybody knows. What happens when they have to fake date for a whole week to avoid Iceman and Slider’s matchmaking plans?

(there won't be smut in this series)

Warnings: OKAY SO. If there is any transphobic person reading this, i’m sorry but it’s time to LEAVE. Iceman’s grandSON is trans, Rooster/Thena being supportive godparents, Rooster’s ex-gf still being a bitch, body dismorphia, mentions of alcohol, CAR ACCIDENT (everyone's okay don't worry), driving under the influence, mentions of death, mentions of Carole's death... you know the deal.

A/N: Yeah, I know. I should be taking some time to rest. I got bad news today, my heart is getting worse again and I have to go through surgery BUT writing is my coping mechanism so expect more works soon.

Tag list:@ducks118 @milestellerwife @craftymoonchaos @littlebadariell @xoxabs88xox @alexxavicry @tayrae515 @shrimping-for-all @mak-32 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @harper1666 @purplevortexx @abaker74 @ssprayberrythings @melllinaa @loveless-simp @k-k0129

(If you want to be tagged comment or sent an ask <3)

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The room is amazing. If you hadn’t seen it before, you could never tell that it had been filled to the core with princess things. You can’t wait to see your nephew and Rebecca, talk to both, and learn more about this new part of your lives that has just begun. 

“You went all extra with the Christmas tree.” says Nick looking at the 7 ft tree that Rooster bought. 

“Christmas this year is special. Let’s make it a one to remember” Bradley admits, looking at you. “Can I talk to you?” 

“Oh, am, sure!” 

You two move to the kitchen, Rooster seems to be a bit agitated. “What’s wrong?” 

“I don’t think we should lie to Jes- well, to him” 

You sigh, knowing that he’s right. How can you lie to that poor kid? You clearly haven’t thought about all the aspects of this ruse. 

“Rooster, I know what you mean but… If we tell him, everyone will know. And my father will bring that girl over for you to meet her” 

“Yeah, I know. I don’t think we have a choice” 

Then, as if that little kid knew you were talking about him, you hear a car park “That’s not Iceman’s car” you adduce, going to open the front door. They shouldn’t be here yet.  

Parked in front of the garage is Rebecca’s car. She is opening the door to your five-year-old nephew. Rebecca has a worried expression, and the kid climbs out of the vehicle, a black beanie on his head, and pulls the hoodie up to hide his face from the world. 

Rooster, who is beside you, gets closer to the kid, opening his arms to give the younger one a hug. “Hey, buddy! Long time no see” 

However, the kid enters the house, ignoring both of you, and runs upstairs. 

“He’s been like this all the way back home. I’m sorry, guys. He was excited about his new name but well… He wants it all and he wants it now. I'm happy to see you” Rebecca says, giving each a quick hug. 

“Is he okay?” 

“He’s been begging me to cut off his hair” Rebecca confesses, making the two of you nod. “I told him to wait to get home, so we could look up for some haircuts and see which one he likes best but…” 

“He’s still a five-year-old, Becca. It’s not gonna be easy” you tell her. 

Nick joins you outside to hug his sister. “Your son has gone straight to the bathroom. He didn’t even say hi” 

You look at Rooster before running all the way to the bathroom with him behind you. Everyone knows that Sarah’s special scissors for cutting Iceman’s hair are in the second drawer. And he knows too. You try to open the door, but it is closed. “Hey buddy, it’s Uncle Roos. Can you open for me?” 

“No!” yells a muffled, hurt voice from the other side of the door. 

“Y/n, he can hurt himself” Rooster mutters, as if you haven’t thought about it. 

“I know, shut up” you knock on the door softly. “Hey bud, can you tell me your name? Mom says you got a new one.”

There’s a silence that prolongs itself for a few seconds. You hold your breath trying to hear what is happening on the other side of the door but all you can hear is the quick, pounding sound of your own heart. 

“...Jesse” 

“Jesse, huh? That’s such a cool name” you sit on the floor, legs crossed, waiting for this to be a long conversation. 

“Thank you. I chose it myself” 

“You did? Woah, Jesse. That’s amazing. Much cooler than mine” 

“I’m not going to open the door” Jesse’s voice is calmer now, but still full of sadness. It breaks your heart. 

“It’s okay, pal. I just wanna talk. It’s been so long since we saw each other, I think you are a lot different now” 

“I’m different. But mom doesn’t want me to be different” 

You look at Becca over your shoulder. She’s biting her nails off. You need Jesse to open the door. And fast.

“You sure? 'Cause your mom called us this morning and told us to change your room. She wants you to be yourself, sweetheart.” 

“It’s that true?” you can hear him pout and it’s so painful to see him like that. 

“We got rid of all the princesses and now your room has a lot of Paw Patrol things. And we even found Marshall’s fire truck!” 

“Mom, did you do that?” the door is still closed, but he seems to be closer to it now. It's working. 

“Uncle Roos and Aunt Thena helped me, but yes. I told them to do it” 

“Hey, Jesse” Rooster speaks for the first time in a while. “I know what it is to hate what you see in the mirror. If you open this door, Aunt Thena and I will take you to the hairdresser, so they can get you a good haircut” 

“Promise?” Jesse asks, opening the door for you to see him. 

“I promise, buddy” 

Jesse hugs you and Rooster and then goes to his mom. “I’m sorry, mom… I just wanted to be like the rest” 

“I know, baby, I know. But you have to understand that you can’t get everything at the moment. Mom’s not a hairdresser. How was I supposed to cut your hair?” 

“I’m sorry… Can I see my room?” 

You all laugh at the sudden change in his tone. From being sorrowful to excited. Jesse can be a lot different now, but he’s still a kid, and he will do what a five-year-old does. Be loud, happy, get angry when he doesn’t get what he wants… Normal things for a kid. 

“Let’s go see it!” 

Nick, Rebecca, and Jesse go to see the room, and you stay sitting on the floor with Roos. It’s been a tiring day. And it’s not even noon. 

“I’ll go get the car ready” you say, getting up from the floor and leaving Rooster alone. 

I know what it is to hate what you see in the mirror

His words echo in your head, and several questions on the tip of your tongue are trying to make you turn around and find out the meaning behind his words. 

You have to remind yourself for a second that you hate him, that he took everything away from you, and that if he has a problem, he has a lot of people he can talk to. He doesn’t need you.

Rooster and Jesse stay at the beauty saloon, and you decide to go to a tactical gear shop nearby, hoping to find the perfect Christmas gift for your nephew. You, luckily, haven’t bought anything yet. And you hope to find a leather flight jacket for Jesse and maybe even get him his own name tag. You thought ‘Marshall’ would be cute as a call sign. 

You’re going out of the shop, gift secured in your bag, when your phone begins to ring. You pull it out of your jacket, smiling at the name appearing on the screen. 

“Natasha Trace, I love when you call me” 

“Are you dating Rooster and you didn’t tell me?! I’M YOUR BEST FRIEND” she yells angrily in your ear. You move the phone away from your ear, but even like that you can hear her. 

“Hello to you too, Nat” you roll your eyes. 

“Don’t roll your eyes, you little bitch” she says, as if she could see you. 

"We're not dating" 

"What? Hold on, let me FaceTime you" 

She hangs up and calls you again, this time you can see her face frown in a confused expression. "Spill" 

"Iceman and my dad were playing matchmakers, and we didn’t want random people at our table on Christmas Eve so… we lied,” you confess, sitting on a bench outside the beauty saloon. Rooster and Jesse are still waiting. 

“And here I thought you were finally getting laid” 

“Natasha!” you whine, covering your face with your free hand. 

“What? Facts only” 

“Oh wait, you know who we met this morning?” you say, trying to change the subject.  “Mandy” 

“Mandy as in Mandy the whore?” she questions. 

“That one. She was with Solo. They’re dating” you reveal to your friend. Her eyes are widening more by the second. 

“WHAT?! Oh my God do you think that’s why-” 

“Y/N? We see each other again!” 

You raise your head from the phone and see Mandy in the flesh. Gosh, you hate that stupid face she has. 

“Mandy! Nat, wait a second, don’t hang up” you say while getting up “Two times in the same day, what a coincidence!” 

She gives you the fakest smile ever, one that seems to be the result of years of practicing. “Yeah, it is a coincidence. Hey, Solo said that the four of us should go out one day, talk about the old times and all” 

“Oh, I’d love to, but we have only this week to be with the family, and then we have to go back to the base for months and-” 

“What about tomorrow?” she interrupts you, not being interested in anything you have to say. “There’s this pub in the center-” 

“O’Malley’s, yeah. I know where it is. Owner’s a friend” 

“See you tomorrow at 6, okay?” she insists, and you don’t have any other choice than accepting. 

Jesse comes running out of the establishment and grabs your hand. “C’mon auntie, it's my turn!”

“Oh, what a beautiful baby girl! What’s your name, princess?”  Mandy says, kneeling down to Jesse’s height. 

“I’m not a girl, you old bat” he says, pushing her and running away. You see how Mandy falls and slap your hand against your mouth to not laugh. From any other person, it would seem like you're embarrassed by your nephew’s actions. Those who know you well enough, however… They know you're enjoying every second of this. 

“I’m sorry, Mandy. My nephew Jesse is a bit… hot-headed. I’m gonna go with him and give him an earful. We’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Bye!” you move from her quickly, almost running, and when you’re far away, Natasha laughs hysterically. 

“Jesus, I love your niece” she says. 

“Nephew. It’s Jesse now. I’ll tell you later, okay? Gotta go” 

“Take care, Thena” 

You hang up and go with the two boys. “Jesse, what you did…” 

“Auntie, I know it’s wrong. I just don’t like her” 

“What did you do, young man?” Rooster says, walking with him to one of the chairs. 

“This old woman who was talking to Aunt Thena called me a ‘girl’. So I pushed her” 

“Jess-” 

“It was Mandy” you clarify. 

Rooster looks at you, then at Jesse, and then at you again. He opens his hand and high-fives the five-year-old. “Don’t tell your Mom” 

“What are you going to wear for the party?” Sarah asks you during dinner, hours later, with a happy short-haired Jesse sitting beside you. 

“What party?” you look at Rooster, but he shrugs, not having any idea what she is talking about. 

“The Christmas Party! Didn’t your father tell you about it?” 

You look at your father, who is very interested in the food on his plate. "He didn't tell me anything, as usual." 

"Well, the town is holding a Christmas party on the 25th. A formal party. You have to wear a dress." She points at you with her fork. "You're not wearing your uniform, only a dress. Is that clear?" 

"Yes ma'am. And what about Bradley?" 

"I'll wear a suit, obviously. Have to match with you," he smiles and then leans to whisper something in your ear. "Please, don't choose the dress yourself. You have horrible fashion sense," 

"Says the one that is always wearing Hawaiian shirts" 

"They're cool" Bradley defends himself. 

"No, they're not" you laugh, and he kicks your leg under the table. "Ouch!" 

"Sarah, darling, we need to do the Secret Santa sorting" Tom remembers his wife, helping her clean the table. 

"Oh I have it all prepared!" She goes to the living room and comes back with a red Santa Claus hat. "All the names are in here, just pull one. Y/n, dear, you first!" 

You smile at her, grabbing a paper from inside the bag and reading it. 'Rooster'. 

Is this a joke or what?

You're getting ready to sleep, Rooster refusing for the second night in a row to sleep in the same bed with you, when you remember that you're supposed to meet Mandy tomorrow. 

"Bradley" 

"No, I'm not sleeping on the bed. If you want to be that close to me, you're gonna need to beg a little more" he says. 

"You wish. Anyway, Mandy said to meet tomorrow. She wasn't accepting a no for an answer." 

He sits and looks at you. "Are you kidding me?" 

“I don’t like the idea either, you know.” you let out. 

“Is Solo coming too?” you nod, and he sighs. “You know how to say ‘no’ or do I have to teach you? It’s not that hard, look: ‘something has come up, and I can’t’, ‘We already have plans’. Oh, and this is the simplest one: ‘No.’” 

“I know how to say no, Bradshaw” 

He laughs dryly. “If you knew how, I wouldn't have to be in the same room with my ex and her new boyfriend. Again” 

He turns off the lights and lies down. He tosses around, trying to find the most comfortable position to sleep on the hard floor. 

“I’m sorry” you whisper. But you know he can hear you. 

“Don’t worry, Thena. Go to sleep” 

A few minutes pass, and you can’t sleep. There’s something you need to find out. Something that you can’t stop thinking about, and you know that it will keep you up all night. 

“Rooster” 

“Jesus, Thena, go to sleep” he complains, but after a few seconds, he gives in with a sigh of defeat. “What?” 

“What you said to Jesse… about hating what you see in the mirror… Is that how you feel?” 

“Like you care” 

“I don’t. I’m just curious. You’re usually proud of that stupid face of yours. So… it doesn’t make sense” 

He sits on the floor, his back against the bed, and his head pressed against the mattress. “It’s the scars” 

“Really?” you move closer to him, your hand a few inches away from his hair. 

“Yeah… It’s a constant reminder of how I almost killed us” he admits, his sorrowful voice almost a whisper. 

Your hand moves automatically to your belly, your fingers finding the scarred skin. You had your own scars, too. And you wish you could tell him that it wasn’t his fault but… it doesn’t matter how many times you’ve tried. He still blames himself. 

“If it makes you feel better, lots of girls at base are obsessed with those scars. And even some boys.” 

“Why are you trying to make me feel better?” he questions, and you also want to know why. 

“Because I don’t want to see you broody all day. That wouldn’t make me look like a good girlfriend” you scoff. 

“Aw, it’s little Y/n worried about me?” he mocks, lying down again. 

“Good night, Bradshaw” you say,  pulling the blankets over your head. 

You dream about the accident. You dream about a young Rooster parking at the front of your house, ringing your doorbell repeatedly and yelling for you to open the door. It’s been years but it feels like yesterday. 

Bradley’s coping mechanism when Carole died was alcohol. That same night, he got really drunk and drove to your house. It was late. When you opened the door, the emptiness in his eyes was the only explanation you needed. She was gone. And Bradley didn’t know how to live in a world without her. 

You managed to get Rooster into his car, snatching the keys away from him and driving him to his home. You knew Maverick would be very worried about him. 

But, you never made it to Rooster’s house. A truck driver fell asleep and swatched lanes, forcing you to swerve. The car crashed against a tree. You don’t remember a thing, just waking up with a big stomach wound and a body full of scratches. 

Rooster took the worst part. People thought he wouldn’t make it, that he didn’t want to make it. He was giving up. 

He opened his eyes again three days after the accident. 

It wasn’t your fault. Or his. Well, he shouldn’t have driven to your house under the influence. He knows that and you, too. But nobody could have expected the truck. And he wasn’t driving when you crashed. You were driving. If someone was to take fault here, it should be you. 

But it didn’t matter how much you tried to make Rooster understand that he wasn’t the one to blame. He never listened. And you know he never will.

[doodle-nerd]

We will be married one day... || part 6 || Aladarius

Word count: 2563

Notes: Also on ao3! doodle_nerd_43 uwu

@sunset-bobby asked to be tagged for the next part, here you are :DDD

FIRST PART < - - -        PREVIOUS PART < - - -

- - - - - - - - - -

"Well... I do not swear often, but I have to say, that you fucked up" bard answered. Eda covered her lips with her hand.

"Wow, Alador, you had to do something really intense if it made Raine swear" her voice was a bit shaky, because she was holding back laugh. She knew that situation is serious, but swearing Raine was somehow hilarious.

- - - - - - - - - -

"I don't like your tone" he answered, opening the door. "Is something wrong? Maybe come in so we can talk more comfortably" he invited them inside.

Raine sat on the chair near the table. Darius took a sit on the edge of the bed. He looked a bit worried.

"So, what's the matter? Your face fills me with anxiety" he said, looking straight at bard's face. Raine needed a second to convert thoughts into words. They had to start conversations casually, so Darius wouldn't suspect anything...

"I am worried about you" they finally spoke. Darius raised his eyebrow.

"Worried about me? Why?" He searched few past days in his memory, but couldn't remember neither anything bad happening nor his own weird behaviour. Maybe Raine knew about something which Darius couldn't hear about?

"When we talked some time ago I mentioned Alador and your reaction was... Quite intense. I can't stop thinking why was it so emotional" they started slowly. Darius had to resist urge to cut them off right after hearing name "Alador".

"Why are you asking about right now? Were you too busy thinking about ignoring the Owl Lady earlier?" he answered. That was an obvious attack, not very nice, but it was a way of defence. Changing the topic and making another person mad, so they most likely won't fancy talking anymore.

"It doesn't work on me, Darius" they said, just like they could read his mind. Abomination coven head rolled his eyes.

"I don't know what are you talking about" playing stupid might work, at least. It's like big, loud "I don't want to talk", but said less rudely.

"You look... Sad, lately" they ignored Darius' words. "I'm worried about you because you are my friend and if it isn't enough for you to talk, then I can also mention that you won't do a thing with the Day of Unity if you will be so distracted. May any of this convince you to talk?" they asked, looking Darius in the eyes. He looked away.

"Fine" they were right. He should let it all out, for one reason or another. He sighed. Raine stayed quiet.

"We were close friends once, I believe that you can remember that. Some were even joking, that we were dating... I hate to say that they were wrong" he sighed heavily. It was hard to open about it, but at the same time, Raine seemed like right person to listen. He started playing with the ring on his finger. He tried to take it off and close somewhere at least few times in recent days, but it kept coming back on his finger. There was no better place for it.

"I loved him, really. I felt happy to just spend time with him, enjoyed being close, getting him out of his bubble. I think that he liked it, too. Maybe even had crush on me. But I don't think that it could be something more. He wouldn't find himself a wife if he loved me, right?" he raised his eyes and looked at Raine. They remained silent, afraid that Darius will stop talking if they interrupt. They just nodded they head to show, that they are listening.

"Talking about wives... A-and marriage" his voice became shaky. He took a deep breath to make it normal again. "We had agreement. Reach age of twenty five, no serious relationship, we marry each other" he said as simply as he could. Talking much about it would be too painful.

"As you can guess... He married Odalia before that age. And I could live with it, really. It's his choice, even if I don't like it. But... There's more" Raine tried to look surprised before, as if they haven't heard the story from Alador. But now, it might get interesting for real. Maybe they will acknowledge something new.

"I tried contacting him, many times. But... He kind of cut me out of his life. Completely. Meeting less and less often, then ignoring me. I got erased from his life, this is how I feel. Erased. Forgotten. Neither conventional nor unusual methods worked" he frowned.

"What do you mean by "unusual" methods?" Raine asked, bending their head a little. They felt like it might be an important part.

"I checked plans that Blight industries were sending us. I... I was adding little notes on the sides, non professional, sometimes funny. He never answered. Not to a single note" he started to look mad.

That was new. Raine frowned. Something was off here. If Alador wanted to contact Darius and bond with him again, then why would he ignore these messages? These would be a perfect opportunity, he wouldn't have to employ Raine to help. They have to ask him about it next time.

"He didn't contact me at all for a really long time. And lately he dared to came here, show me a ring on his finger and expect me to forgive him ignoring me for so long! What was he thinking, that I'll agree to be his side chick ride away? No fucking way" Raine placed their hand on Darius' shoulder. It reminded him that he should control his emotions. Screaming wasn't best considering where are they right now.

"I assume that rings were part of that agreement, right? A bit like proposal, because it was about getting married in the future?" Raine almost forgot to ask about it. If they didn't, it would be weird. Darius skipped that part, they couldn't just know it.

"Yes, you got it right, songbird. They were a bit like proposal. The closest I got to confessing my feelings" he looked at his hand.

"How about now? Do you still... Feel that way?" They asked, trying not to put too much pressure on him.

"Are you asking if I still love him?" Darius answered with another question. Raine nodded.

"I hate to say it, but... Yes. Yes, I do" he looked away again. Raine never saw him as sad as he was right now. They felt urge to hug and comfort their friend.

"You should fight for your love, then. At least talk about it with him" they said while hugging Darius. He appreciated that gesture.

"Maybe one day. If he would fancy talking to me" he rolled his eyes.

"Don't worry about this. I can arrange your meeting" they answered, stepping back to look at his face.

"Dear Titan, how? Do you secretly contact him from time to time?" his voice sounded sarcastically.

"No. But I can contact Eda. Her child is dating Alador's daughter" they smiled. Darius remained silent for a while.

"Fine. We can do this. But maybe not right away" he said after a few minutes.

"Sure. Let me know when you will be ready"

Darius smiled weakly.

* * *

Sneaking out with help of kids was easier that Alador would expect. Odalia really was ignoring him if he only was busy in his workshop. She didn't bother to talk to him at all, so illusion could do the trick.

Scientist was waiting for Raine at the Owl House. He wasn't best in starting conversations, so they were just sitting there. Atmosphere was a bit awkward.

"Sorry I'm late" Raine rushed through the door opened by Hooty. He already knew that bard is an always-welcome guest and was okay with them coming any time.

"Terra made it really hard for me to leave this time, but I managed. Anyway, I talked to Darius" they were kind of rushing this conversation, because they didn't have much time today.

"And?" Alador looked at Raine's face. His eyes were shining with excitement and hope, but also stress.

"Well... I do not swear often, but I have to say, that you fucked up" bard answered. Eda covered her lips with her hand.

"Wow, Alador, you had to do something really intense if it made Raine swear" her voice was a bit shaky, because she was holding back laugh. She knew that situation is serious, but swearing Raine was somehow hilarious.

"Uhm... I don't really know what I did, can you explain please?" scientist looked confused.

Something was even more odd. He should connect the dots, shouldn't he?

"You ignored him for a while. I'm not surprised that he wasn't fancy talking to you" Eda finally calmed herself down completely, because Raine's words were interesting.

"What? No! I mean, I might refuse to meet him few times due to work my wife gave me, especially after I was left alone with all of the work, but I never ignored him. Or at least I do not remember something like that happening" they could see that every muscle in Alador's body tenses. Stress completely took over him. Raine sighed.

"He told me about the notes. Notes on the plans, that he sent back to you after checking them. You had to see these" bard finished explaining.

Alador looked puzzled.

"I responded to every single note. He ignored my responses, actually. I never got an answer" he said, frowning. He couldn't understand it.

"He told me that you never answered. Plans were coming back corrected but side notes ignored. Huh, that's quite weird" Raine rubbed their chin.

"It looks like your responses disappeared on a your house - castle way" Eda commented. Alador suddenly got up.

"Of course! Of course it vanished" his voice revealed that he was really mad. "Guess who takes care of sending this to the castle. Come on, take a guess. My fucking wife!" he answered his question before anyone else could open their mouth.

"In that case, she probably knows that you want to reconnect with Darius. And she doesn't like it" Eda said out loud what was obvious. Alador sighed and sat down again.

"I convinced him to meet with you and talk" Raine said softly after a minute of silence. Alador needed it to calm down.

"Just text me when and where. Thank you. Now sorry, but I have to go. I can't believe that this bitch was erasing my notes" he frowned again. Raine put their palm on his shoulder.

"If I can suggest you anything, maybe wait with arguing with her. Talk to Darius first. She might complicate it later" bard tried to keep soft and smoothing voice tone. Alador nodded his head.

"Thank you for your help. I'll try to ignore her like usually. At least for now" he added, said goodbye and left.

Raine sighed heavily. Eda hugged them.

* * *

Darius was looking at the ceiling, thinking. Did he do the right thing telling all of that to Raine? He never talked about all of this to anyone.

Raine was his friend, they knew each other for a long time, but got closer recently due to rebellion thing. They weren't usually talking about things like that. On the other hand, Darius had a feeling that Raine can actually help him.

Ohhh, stupid, stupid, stupid heart! Stupid feelings!

He couldn't really focus on anything recently. Raine was right, he was sad. Short encounter with Alador made him loose his mind over him again. Completely.

How could he still love him after all this time? After being rejected so many times? How could he still have a hope?

He told himself that he wasn't naive nor desperate anymore. But was it true? If he wasn't, he would be able to get over it all, right?

He felt really pathetic. He sighed heavily and looked at the ring.

He closed his eyes and did something that he haven't done for a while. He tried to remember every single detail from that day.

They were sitting on the small hill. He got there first. Alador couldn't run that fast. He had terrible physical condition, not going out much, sitting in his room and experimenting with abomination. Nerd.

Darius smiled slightly.

Alador was slightly blushing. Or was it light reflection on his face? They met just before the sunset. Sky wasn't blue anymore, but pink and red... But he preferred to think that it was a blush. Well, it could be because he was running. But just for a little moment of happiness, he wanted to think that he was blushing at him specifically.

He tried to recall another part of that moment. Oh, he did blush because of him, for sure. When he called him "sweetie". He was kind of joking back then. He wished that he could call him like that for real.

Then he started talking. He took the rings out of his pocket. Oh Titan, he was so stressed at the moment. His heart was beating fast and he was scared how Alador would react. Brunet seemed to be happy with his proposition, thought.

They were watching sunset together. The most beautiful one Darius have ever saw.

He opened his eyes. Back to the grey reality.

He was smiling, but at the very same moment, tears were running down his face. He got up and grabbed a tissue to wipe them off.

His heart felt weirdly calm. It confirmed his conviction that he did the right thing. Telling Raine let him calm his mind.

He walked to the window and rested his elbows on the windowsill. It was quite late already. Sun was setting.

He spent few minutes on looking at it. One more tear run down his cheek and hit the windowsill under.

* * *

Alador came back home. It was weirdly silent. Well, maybe kids were busy in their rooms and Odalia left or something. He didn't want to overthink it at the moment.

He went straight to his workshop, so illusion might disappear.

Then he gasped in horror.

Illusion wasn't there.

Something had to go wrong this time.

He started checking every room, looking for the rest of his family.

He found them in the living room. Odalia was sitting on the sofa. Amity, Edric and Emira were next to her. All of them had sad expressions on their faces. When he entered the room, his son raised his eyes. His look said "sorry".

"Alador" Odalia's voice was sharp and unpleasant for the ear. Brunet cringed when he heard it.

"Why did you gather all of the family members here? Spending time together isn't in your style, so I assume that there's a different reason" he said, trying to play it cool. It wasn't easy. He still was extremely mad at her for getting rid of notes.

"You tell me. How bad has to be a father to turn his kids against their mother?" she frowned slightly, making the face of a victim. It made Alador even angrier. She wasn't the poor, innocent one.

"How bad mother has to be to have all three of her kids against her" he answered, clenching his fists. His face was completely red.

"I didn't know that you can talk back" she rolled her eyes. "Children. All of you are grounded. Go to your rooms" she said, ignoring Alador for a second. Amity and twins got up, but didn't leave.

"What are you waiting for? I said: go to your rooms" her voice got even more unpleasant. All of the kids cringed, looked at their dad once more and left.

"And we... We need to talk" she frowned, looking her husband right in the eyes. Alador gritted his teeth and nodded.

He had to face her earlier that he thought.

[oliverwoodmarrymepls]

Out of Time

Oliver Wood x gn!reader

summary: Oliver keeps putting quidditch first and forgetting about you; It feels like you’re running out of time.

warnings: pet name ‘angel’? ig? and it’s sad

a/n: i’ve just been listening to blur all day and had this idea - at least i’m writing something I DONT LIKE IT ANYMORE😭

Inspired by Out of time ~ Blur <3

And watch the world spinning

Gently out of time

Tell me I'm not dreaming

But are we out of time?

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

You always admired and supported Oliver’s passion for quidditch; Watching every game, listening to every ramble and even ignoring all of those missed date nights. He was at practice after all. Though they stung, you let them slide.

“If we stop dreaming now, we’ll never succeed y/n!” He’d say with such vigour, such triumph, you couldn’t stay mad.

But then it started to build. Soon you were sitting in the library for hours, waiting for him, running out of time; “What are you doing in here?” Percy startled you from your light snooze, his cold prefect voice rumbling through the library.

“Sorry Percy, I was waiting for Oliver,” You replied lazily, “Have you seen him?” There was a hint of hope in your tone.

Percy sighed, his stern look softening slightly. “Last time I saw him, he was leaving the dorm— broom in hand.”

Feeling dejected, you gathered your books in your arms, “I’ll head to my dorm, sorry again.”

As you left the library you watched the clock hit 10. Out of time.

At least you’d see Oliver in the mornings, in the Great Hall; “Morning, angel” He said with a smile, a charming smile, a smile that was oblivious to the pain you had felt mere hours before. You returned the gesture, hopeful that today he wouldn’t miss your study date again.

“Date tonight, in the library, am I correct?” His sweet accent pulling you out of your slight trance, charming smile still directed at you.

“Hm? Oh! Yes, tonight,” You answered, unaware that you would be trudging back from the library at 8pm having been stood up— again.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

You knocked firmly on Oliver’s door.

“Hey y/n, what are you-?” He breathed as he opened it, pausing when he noticed the book in your hand, “Oh- Angel I completely forgot! I’ve just-“

“You‘ve been so busy lately that you haven’t found the time — for me,” You weren’t entirely sure what you were saying, or what you were trying to achieve.

“I know, I’m sorry about missing tonight, I swear I’ll-“

Tonight. Just tonight.

“Oliver, do you know how many dates you’ve missed?” He stared at you blankly; You felt tears forming as you reeled off the multiple missed meet ups from that fortnight alone, though you didn’t dare let them fall yet.

“I can just feel the world spinning - I’m spinning - gently out of time,” You spoke softly, “Because of you, and I don’t think I can let it happen anymore Ollie.” Your voice broke as the tears threatened to fall.

“No- please,” He looked to you; Sympathy, sadness and hope painted his features.

“I think we’re out of time,” You suggested, taking a shallow breath in.

“Out of time?” He returned, a tear rolling down his cheek. You stepped forward to embrace him; You still admired him.

“Out of time.” You repeated, stepping away.

Perhaps he was the right person, but you caught him at the wrong time. Maybe he wasn’t the right person at all.

Whatever it was, you were out of time.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

loool sad </3

ty @velvetcloxds for reading this for me

tagging; @sheraayasher and @mirclealignr ily both for asking to be tagged in stuff <3

[interlunium-opus]

"I hate him spending time with you more than I hate running so you know, priorities." [ Jay. ]

[ Jay | fluff ]

Author’s Note: Here's a fluff in response to the following request "Can you maybe do a fluff/crack for Jay where maybe he felt a little jealous when you praised someone for their skill and he immediately goes competitive mode and openly tries to show how he's far better indirectly to the guy?" Hope it's close to what you have in mind and hope you like it :3

“Do you have anything to explain to me?”

You jumped, startled, as Jay appeared beside you while you were busy shoving your textbooks into your locker, “Jay! What did I say about sneaking up on people?”

“And what did I say about not keeping secrets between us?” Jay snapped back, arms crossed, brows raised, “Is this how much our friendship is worth?”

“My goodness, what is it this time?” You sighed as he fished his phone out of his pocket, turning it to show you a candid picture of you and Sunghoon from last night.

“I mean seriously, of all people to date, you have to go for this pretentious prick?” Jay scoffed before gesticulating wildly, “Look, I know I said that you need to stop being aromantic and start planting some sort romantic interest somewhere — but Sunghoon is just ain't it. In fact ! I’d rather you date the spawn of the devil, Jungwon, instead.”

You snorted a laugh before shaking your head dismissively, “Dude, we were just running last night okay? Does that even look like a date to you?”

“Okay,” he repeated sarcastically, “but you love running alone! So why are you suddenly running with someone — and not just anyone but this prick???”

“I really don’t get why you two hate each other so much,” you raised an eyebrow at Jay, “Look we just happened to bump into each other last night and since we were heading the same way, he asked if I don’t mind him tagging along for the remainder of the way — no big deal.”

“Ughh, that’s the oldest trick in book,” Jay scrunched his face, “And you said yes?”

“I mean — we’re not exactly strangers, we have been in the same tutorial class together for more than a year now," you mumbled as you zip your bag up, "He's a good running partner too. His pace was so stable and steady that it made me stuck to mine as well — I mean, duh, he's an athlete after all."

"Hey, I can run well too," Jay grumbled defensively, "You know if you needed a running partner, you could've called me right?"

“Maybe if you were as fit as I am, she would have,” Sunghoon suddenly appeared beside Jay, peering over his shoulder to look at the picture on his phone, “That’s a good picture of me and y/n — no wonder you got jealous.”

“Speak of the devil,” Jay rolled his eyes, “Aren't you a bit too greedy over what I have? first, you took up my spot for the dance competition and now you're trying to make a move on my girl."

"Jay, that was 2 years ago — get over it. You've taken my spot afterwards for the Summer competition anyway so we're actually even," Sunghoon retorted, "Also, she's not your girlfriend anyway so your territorial behaviour is pretty misplaced."

"Guys, cut it out," you shut your locker close with extra force in an effort to shut the squabbles, "Also, why am I suddenly dragged into your petty fights."

"Right sorry about that, he's just always trying to pick a fight with me," Sunghoon shook his head dismissively before turning to you and beamed, "Just stopping by to ask if you're running again tonight 'cause I would love to join again. It’s off season for ice-skating so I thought it's the perfect time to get back to running again."

“Oh? Yeah I am going tonight as well, just a tad bit late in the evening though. I want to finish up some work at the library first,” you smiled back at Sunghoon, ignoring Jay’s burning stare, “You know you can start ahead if you want — don’t want you waiting too long in case I'll take too much time at the library.”

“I’ll go when you go, don’t worry,” he reassured as he backed away, joining Heeseung who was waiting for him, “I’ll text you alright? Looking forward to tonight!”

You nodded and waved at him before turning to Jay, “What?”

“That’s it,” Jay clasped his hands together, “I’ll run with you tonight — and the next.”

“Jay, don’t be ridiculous, you hate running,” you emphasized, “which is why I never asked you to run with me.”

“Hey — I can love running if it’s for you,” he winked, wrapping an arm over your shoulders, dragging you past the crowded hallway towards your next class, “Or let me paraphrase: I hate him spending time with you more than I hate running so you know, priorities.”

“your priorities are all skewed then," you clicked your tongue, "Well, as long as you don't hurt yourself."

_________________________________________________________________________

The next morning however Jay did not show up in Modern Political Thought seminar that you guys have every Thursday morning. Though the guy is such a sleepyhead, he never misses a class even when he pulled up an all-nighter the night before. So this sudden absence, paired with the fact that he managed to run a whole 5km without stopping last night, was sowing seeds of suspicions and guilt within you. To make things worse, he did not even respond to any of your messages for the last 5 hours.

That was why you ended up being in front of Jay's apartment instead of having your lunch that noon. "Hi!" you immediately say as the door of Jay's apartment opened. It was Jake, his flatmate, with his lids only half-opened and hair all disheveled, "y/n?"

"Sorry for waking you up Jake," you smiled apologetically, "Is Jay home? He missed a Politics seminar this morning and he didn’t respond to my text at all — just wanna make sure he’s alright.”

“mmhmm, pretty sure he’s in," he answered drowsily before yawning, "but probably, still hibernating.”

“Oh okay, do you mind if I come in?”

Jake nodded, backing up as he held the door open, “Of course, come in — it’s messy though.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassured, making your way towards the room at the end of the hallway. As you knocked on his door, Jake suddenly shouted from the kitchen, “don’t bother knocking y/n — that guy sleeps like a log. Just go in.”

“Uhh…” you bit your lip, slightly hesitating but relented when your subsequent knocks yielded no answer.

“Jay? I’m entering okay?” you say as you let yourself in, carefully navigating around the dark room, stumbling a few times against some random furnitures.

"Jake, get out okay-" you hear him grumble from underneath the covers, tossing the other way, "just let me... sleep mo..re."

As you neared his bed, you reached over to his bedside table and turned on the lamp. Suddenly, Jay rose from the covers, his hand gripping your wrist, grunting "Jake what did I just say-"

Trailing off, he looked at you with brows furrowed in a mix of annoyance and confusion, before his expressions gradually soften "y/n?"

"dude, you almost gave me a heart attack," you muttered, sighing exasperatedly.

"Sorry, I thought it was Jake trying to disturb me again," he softened his grip and rubbed your wrist as if he had just hurt it, "Did I hurt you?"

"My heart, almost but my hand is fine," you pulled your hand away, "How about you?"

"What about me?"

"You missed class this morning," you crossed your arms.

"It's just one class, no big deal. I just overslept-"

"Is that all?" you raised an eyebrow before pointing at the crumpled muscle relief patch packs and pain relief creams strewn messily across his bedside table, "Did someone overexert himself last night?"

"Fine, I didn't come to class partly because my legs are sore," he shrugged, "but hey, I ran as much as Sunghoon did! Aren't you proud of me?"

"Not if it's at the cost of your legs!" you replied exasperatedly, "Come on, where is the rational Jay that I know? he wouldn't have let his competitiveness and ego cloud his judgements like this."

"It's just normal post-workout sore, I've had it a couple of times before," he reassured, "Also, I may hate running. But I'm actually good at HIIT and strength training so I'm not all that unfit as you think I am. Or he thinks."

"All that just so you can prove him wrong?"

"No of course not, I couldn't care less about him," he huffed, "I just wanted you to know that I can pace well with you too."

"Jay, that does not make it any better-"

"Probably also to convince you that I make a better running partner than Sunghoon," he sniggered.

"Well, guess what, you can't run if your legs are hurt," you quipped.

"Oh shit, that's true," he muttered under his breath, "Well post-workout sore usually last between 3-7 days so I'll be good as new after that. Running partners?" he stretched his hand out as if asking for a handshake.

You sighed, grabbing his outstretched hand, shaking it as if you guys are signing on a pact, "Only if you promise not to overexert yourself next time."

"Promise," his smile widened, "Have you had lunch? I'll cook something up for you."

"Your legs are hurt though."

"They're sore not hurt," Jay emphasized, scooting to the edge of his bed, "Also even if they are hurt, I cook with my hands not legs so..."

You chuckled, "Well sir, if you insists."

"Of course, wouldn't let my girl go out of this house famished," he wrapped an arm over your shoulder, grinning gleefully.

[tendousthoughts]

HQ Boys Thinking Their S/O Left Them Pt. 3

Character(s) included: Oikawa & Kyoutani

Requested by: @chibiiichann

Warning(s): Cursing, Mention of bullying [Oikawa], Mention of flinching [Kyoutani], Hints towards readers tough past [Kyoutani]

Song of the day: Trees II by McCfferty

A/N: First off thanks for 200- I know I said it a lot but I’m just so glad! Next, many of you haven’t seen but I have updated a few things. One of the biggest being my name I go by. At the moment I’m trying out Xic. I also noted my pronouns and stuff. Which you can all find on my announcements post. Now back to some more ‘important’ things [though this is important, this is not why you came here!]. Sorry about the long wait for part three! Please read through the warnings again to make sure everything is okay. Thank you for everything. Bye!

Where to find all the parts!

Where to find all my content!

Tag(s): @chibiiichann & @corporeal-terrestrial

Oikawa

He was at it again. Working late nights and shit. You were happy for him. You were. Of course you were. He was back doing what he loved. He was back playing volleyball. With that happiness also came fear and worry. You knew how he was. Everyone who ever met him, knew how he was. He over worked himself. He always did and scared you. No matter how hard he tried not to. He pushed himself past his limits. Even after the doctor already told him, if he didn’t ease up on the practice, his knee would get even worse. But he was Oikawa Tōru. Determined and intelligent.

It was ten thirty and he already missed your date. Which you expected to happen, but it still kind of hurt. You tried calling for the fifth time that night, but you were met with the same thing. After a few rings it went to voicemail.

“Hey! You’ve reached the voicemail of Oikawa Tōru, thank you for calling! At the moment I’m busy but I promise after I’m done I’ll call you back. If you want, leave me a message and I’ll get back to you. Byeee!”

You waited all night for him to come home around twelve thirty. He looked tired. Extremely tired and to be honest that pissed you off more. Not only did he not respond but he over worked himself again, and when he woke up the next night sore, you were the one who would have to take care of him.

Instead of bringing it up you waited for the morning. Not wanting to have this conversation while he was tired. It would feel like you were talking to yourself, and he wouldn’t understand. So you went to bed with him and by the morning he was already up before you.

You went to the kitchen to find him shuffling through your medication bin. “Are you sore?” You ask, looking at him.

“I’ll be fine, I just need breakfast and some medicine,” he muttered. He couldn’t have cared less. At least that’s what it looked like. He didn’t even spare you a glance.

“Maybe you should listen. You know, lay off volleyball practice for a day or something. Try to lesson the hours and stuff..” You looked back at him for his reaction.

“Can’t. If I ease up I’ll never be able to catch up.” He finally looked to you now, finding the medicine.

“I mean I think you will be fine. It is taking over your whole life and stuff so I just don’t want it to be a bigger issue. Like you know.. with your knees and stuff.” Your eyes are pinned on him.

“I told you not to worry about my knee, and it’s not taking up my life okay? It has and will always be my life. It’s the only thing I’m good at. So no, I'm not going to take a break.” He snapped at you. Which caught you off guard.

“It is… It is taking up your life,” you replied which made his face change.

“You don’t understand how it is like me. You don’t! I understand you don’t have anything you're good at and shit. But you have to understand that I actually have goals in life okay? You have to understand that my fucking life won’t revolve around you and how you feel when I do something. It won’t and never will. You and I are together because I feel like having you around. Because you know what, volleyball is the only thing that distracts me from leaving. Volleyball is the only thing I can do to escape you!” He screamed.

It takes a few seconds for the weight of his words to sink into your skin. But here’s the thing. You knew what you were up against when you started dating him. He just lit a fuse in you. A spark that made an explosion of feelings hit you. When it did you couldn’t control your words. “After all that practice I wondered why you never made it to nationals. I mean seriously. You need a distraction from me, right? Your always doing it, and get you can’t even fucking get to nationals. Not only that but I can see why your last girlfriend left you. You're a dick. You can’t remember a fucking date. A fucking date we have been planning for weeks. Oh wait, let me correct that, a date I’ve been planning for weeks. Not only that but I took my fucking time to work around your schedule. For you not to even send a message.” You spat out. You looked down at him, “I wonder sometimes if everyone was right. You and me. Never belonged. I’m just a distraction from such a ‘handsome’ and ‘kind’ person.”

He looked hurt at first, but then again he started it and intended to finish it. “I can see why your whole family doesn’t talk to you. You always think you're the best or something. Maybe I remembered the date. Have you ever thought of that? Maybe I didn’t wanna hangout with you. Maybe I didn’t want to hear you nagging me every fucking second. You know what? I can see why people fucking hate you. Bully you and shit. Your such a fucking selfish freak.”

“What..?” You looked at him. You told him you were bullied, because you thought of him as your safe space. You thought of him as the only person who understood you. You felt safe when he was around you. You felt understood. To use that against you. To say you deserved it. To say you deserved to get hurt. To get shamed. To get everything that happened to you… it was your fault?

“What are you too dumb to understand?” He laughed at you. Hatred and venom spilling from his lips. “Awe.. look at the baby. You should be grateful I didn't break up with you. You should be thankful because I’m the only reason you're even someone.”

Tears filled your eyes. “God fucking damn it.” You muttered softly. You weren’t going to allow him to take you down. You were stronger then he would ever understand. “You really think anyone wants to hang out with you..? Do you fucking think anyone find you a good person..? Your just a fucking pretty face, okay? Your nothing compared to anyone else on your team. You might not realize it but to be honest sometimes I do want to be set free. Set free from this shitty relationship okay? That’s the truth. Sometimes I get sick of having to take care of you. When your fucking sore before you over works your self again. I am the only one trying to keep you okay. I’m the only one who actually thinks about the long run. No matter how hard you practice in the end you won’t even be able to walk. Let alone play volleyball and shit. You know what sometimes I get sick of being the only fucking one trying to keep us together.”

“Then maybe you should give up okay. Maybe we should finally go our separate ways. I mean after all, you're too easy.” He was hurt. He just blurted out whatever he thought would hurt you the most. Which fucking worked. Before you had said anything more he had left the room, leaving you stunned.

It took a moment but before you knew it you were out of the house, crying and walking the farthest away from your shared house as you could. “Fuck..” you whisper. Did he really not want to be with you..? You should have known. This relationship wasn’t a relationship. You barely talked. You felt alone. So fucking alone.

It took an hour for him to fully cool down. When he walked out of the room he was expecting you to be waiting for him. He was expecting everything to be okay. When he was met with the emptiness. The emptiness of you being actually gone. He was met with the realization that his words were taken just how he thought he wanted them to be.

You on the other hand we’re at the park blasting music in your ears. Forcing the thoughts to be pushed deep down. Forcing you to forget everything. Everything that hurts you. Maybe it would be best if you guys did go your separate ways..? You knew this wasn’t good for your mental health. But fuck that. This was the only thing that made you feel grounded. Made you feel okay. When he wasn’t with you or practicing he was out with friends, drinking and partying. You couldn’t continue to live like this. So maybe it would be best to let go. To give up on everything and everything you loved… your everything was him. You always argued and at this point you felt sick. Thinking about it just broke you. You had no more tears to cry, with your tear stained cheeks you decided to go back. To your home. It was over. Everything you had built up was coming crashing down.

On his side he was freaking out. He knew he was in the wrong. He knew there was no excuse for what he did to you, but what could he say? You were gone already. It took a bit for him to get to the nerve to call you. To his surprise he heard the sound of your ringing phone. So you left it. Maybe you were going to come back. Maybe you will and then everything will be okay again. Maybe everything would be perfect. It was a small chance but that's all he could hold on to.

When you walked in it was quiet, but there were soft whimpers and cries coming from your shared room. Gently you knocked on the door and waited for a response. You were surprised when you immediately heard a stumble and then were met with a hug. Your shoulder almost immediately feels wet to the touch. “Ba.. Oikawa..?” You muttered.

“Please don’t call me that.. please..” He muttered softly. His face buried deep into your clothes.

You kinda ignored his response. “I came back to get my stuff. I took into consideration what you said and I realized that you don’t deserve to be distracted by me all the time..” You whispered softly. “So like you said earlier.. I think it is best if we stop seeing each other.. entirely because I don’t know if I could let you go otherwise..”

His arms tightened around you, “C..can we please talk about it first.. please..” his nightmare was coming true, and maybe it was dumb but he didn’t realize how much he needed you.

“There’s nothing to talk about.. I don’t understand why you want to make it harder on me. I gave you what you wanted okay..? You can practice your heart out and hangout with your friends and stuff okay? You can finally find someone who will fit all your needs. You and I both know that I will never be what you want. So maybe it would be best if we just let go..”

“No… please no.. that’s not what I want.. I want to make it up to you and be there for you and I want to make you happy and I want everything to be perfect. I know I messed up okay? I don’t deserve you and I don’t know what came over me today because you're everything I’ve ever wanted. I know I don’t deserve it and there’s no excuse for what I said or did… I know I should let you find someone better but I love you. I love you so fucking much. I know I’ve been lacking and I want to make up for it. I want to be someone you want to be around again.. I love you so fucking much okay? I should have been there. I shouldn’t have said the things I did. I know I don’t deserve a second chance but please.. just one more.. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” He didn’t want to let go of everything.

“I’m sorry too.. you didn’t deserve it. I’m sorry for everything and that’s why I want to let you go. To find someone who will not hurt you like I hurt you.. You and I both know that I can't resist it. I don’t know why you do this to me.. pull me back.. you have one more chance… Please don’t make me regret it. I really love you but this.. this isn’t going to work if we do what we are doing now okay? We will just tear each other more and more apart..” you whispered gently, kissing his head. Your arms finally meet his back as you hold him. “I’m sorry.. but I’ve got you now baby. I love you so fucking much..”

Kyoutani

Kyoutani was the type of person most people would never understand. Not because they were “difficult” or anything.. they just never took the time too. Well other than you. You were different. You understood his outburst and such. But at the same time you were human. There was only so much you could take. There was only so much you would take.

When he came into the locker room you were already waiting for him. He had been thrown out of the game for fighting with a few people. You knew he was frustrated. You could hear the crowd from a mile away shouting to kick him off. It was harsh. Even for ‘mad dog’ which he hated to be called. He hated to be tied to an animal.. and always being an angry reck. Anybody would. But of course nobody understood other than you. When he sat on the bench you immediately rushed over.

“Baby.. I’m sorry.. You didn’t deserve that.. just ignore them, please. I know it’s hard but their not important okay..?” You we’re just trying to comfort him. But there were times when Kyoutani couldn’t control himself. Like any other person when they get looked down at every fucking moment of their lives. When they are ridiculed and laughed at all the time. When they are nothing more than an angry person.. Sometimes there is nothing more to do than be the person everyone so desperately makes you out to be.

“Not important? Not important! I just got fucking kicked from the game because of them chanting to kick me. They didn’t even fucking have the decency to call me by my name. So don’t tell me it’s okay and that their opinion on me doesn’t matter. Because quite frankly their opinion is the only one that matters it seems.” He lashed out.

“I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just that.. it wasn’t entirely their fault. You were arguing with the other team members.” You muttered. It wasn’t meant to do any harm, just for him to keep in mind.

“Are you serious right now.? Nobody else got kicked. Nobody. If they can’t handle a little trash talking, maybe they shouldn’t play a sport. I mean seriously there’s no need for them to tell the referees to kick me.” He started raising his voice when he spoke.

“I know it’s just that.. maybe you should try and not trash talk you know?” You whispered softly, retreating a bit.

“What?” He looked annoyed. “God ducking damn it. How can you be so cute but so fucking annoying. I mean seriously how can someone with such a face be so fucking dumb and so annoying?” His hands were balled into fist

“I..I don’t understand, can you tell me why you act so sweet..? Then so cold the next moment..? You don’t mean it right..? Please say you don’t mean it.” You were worried you loved him but god it was hard. It was hard to respond when your friends asked about your relationship. It was hard when they flaunted their perfect relationship and then asked about yours. Its was so fucking hard.

“Do you think I would say it otherwise..?” He looked at you. He laughed at you as he saw your pitiful expression. God it was almost sickening how much he saw that expression. That expression that nobody else had ever shown him. The one of worry  but at the same time already knowing it was coming. He loved it. He loved everything about you. But most of the time you pissed him off. This relationship wasn’t healthy. But for god sake you already started counseling. But fuck this was a bad idea.

Silence. Nothing could come out. You wanted to scream. You wanted to forget this. You wanted it to stop. Everything to stop.

“Answer me.” He punched the wall next to you. Fear spreading all over your face. Fuck. Fuck. Not here. Please no. He gripped your warm face making it so cold in seconds. Forcing you to look at him he laughed at your crying face. But when you didn’t stop for a minute he immediately backed away. He fucked up. He knew he fucked up. “Wait I’m sorry baby..” he muttered.

“Please stop. Please. I won’t do it again.” Flashbacks we’re pulling you way too far out. You were drowning. No one was around to save you. He was laughing as you begged to be saved, pushing you deeper into your own pool of your own thoughts. You were so cold. The next second you were able to move back to the surface.

Realization hit as he stepped back. “I..I am sorry..” he muttered softly as he left the room without another word leaving his mouth. Words were banging on his lips but he knew if he spilled them out everything out it would just hurt you ten times more.

You got up five minutes later, finally pulled back to reality and decided to get up. Grabbing your stuff you walked back into the stadium. Waving a small wave to the rest of his team before exiting. Confusion was read all over as they saw your tear stained face. To be honest, all that was running through your mind was that you didn’t want Kyoutani to break up with you. You didn’t want to be alone, again. You didn’t want to be just another one of his ex’s. So for the better of both of you it would be best to leave him be. To let him cool off.. for him to feel better.

He was freaking out. He fucked up. You. You were his everything, not only that but you were more than just that. You were like a fucking rainbow at the end of a rainy day. You were his partner in crime. You made him feel normal, you made him feel safe, and loved. He couldn’t believe he just put that all in danger. He just put everything on the line because of some stupid game. He hit the wall hard, “fuck me. I’m sorry y/n..” he muttered as he sank to the floor and balled up. Tears burning through his eyes. He did the one thing he promised you that he would protect you from. You became the one thing he was always scared of becoming. He loved you so much, he love you so fucking much.

You left and got into your car. Sinking into your seat you locked the doors, and hit the steering wheel. Taking a deep breath salty tears rolled down your already stained face. Placing the key in and turning it the car started. Next thing you knew you had left wherever you could go. You loved him. So fucking much. But it was hard to be okay when he acted so fucking rough with you. It was hard to stay calm and not imagine your past relationship in this one. You tried. You really did but god it was hard to feel okay, feel okay about everything happening around you. It was too much. So fucking much. It made your head hurt.

When the game ended Kyoutani was still freaking out, now moved back into the lockers. He didn’t know what he was expecting but he knew he hoped you would still be there. God damn it. He fucked up. You had left. You were gone. Tears brimming his eyes as he teammates walked in. Now mentioning it to his teammates their faces seemed to change. More salty fucking tears left his eyes, as he heard about what type of pain you looked like you were in.

You headed back to your shared place. Unsure where else to go. You weren’t close with your family anymore. You had no friends. You had no work buddies. You had nobody but Kyoutani and in turn, now you were left alone with the thought of everything being gone. Ripped right out of your hands as you're forced to watch your whole world come crumbling down on you. You placed your stuff down on the side and laid on the bed. It smelled just like safety. Just like Kyoutani. You just wanted to be held. You just wanted everything to be perfect, again. To be okay at least. You needed him more than anything.

After a night out he finally made it back to your shared place. He didn’t want to be back without you, but you weren’t answering and he didn’t know what else to do. When he walked into the apartment he slowly walked into your shared room. There he saw you. Laying in bed cuddled up in the blankets. Slowly and carefully he walked up. Not wanting to cause you any more hurt. He missed you. Even for a few hours he had felt like he hadn’t seen you in years. But maybe that was because he thought that’s what might have happened. Maybe he thought you had left for good. Maybe he thought he would never have the chance to apologize. Never have the chance to hold you again. When he reached the bed he noticed that you were awake. “Hey y/n..” he muttered softly. The silence was killing him. “I’m so sorry. I know I fucked up. I promised to make you feel safe and protected around me. I made a promise to keep you safe and protected. I broke both of those. I fucked up. I know I did. I lashed out again. I did exactly what everyone says I do. I just get so fucking heated for no reason and I know I shouldn’t and I know I should just relax. But I feel like if I do the worlds would burn though my throat and then it would just explode.. and I know it’s stupid and I know I end up hurting you more. I know that there is no good reason to do that. But I just.. I don’t know. You're the only one that makes me feel normal okay..? I know it’s not fair. I know it’s not. You just make me feel like whenever I’m with you that I’m floating. I just want everything to be okay again. I want everything to be back to normal. I know I should give you space but I missed you so much. I don’t want you to leave, please don’t leave..” he was crying again. He barely had any tears left to cry. He wanted to hold you but he knew it was a stupid idea. “I’m sorry for being so selfish.. but please..”

You never really heard him or saw him crack. But fuck. It hurts you so much. To see him beg for you to stay with him. What were you supposed to do..? Leave him now? That was never even the plan. You didn’t have a plan to be honest. You sat up biting your lip before you gently held him. “Hey baby it will be okay.. calm down I’ve got you.. I’m not going anywhere now. I promise you I’m not going anywhere.” You muttered softly. He melted into your touch. He knew he didn’t deserve it but he felt like he couldn’t breathe. “Shush… I’ve got you.. take a deep breath..” you mumbled softly kissing his head as he took deep breaths. Soon enough he was relaxed in your arms again. “You know and I know that I love you so much. But there’s a line between where I can take it and I can’t. I understand you get frustrated but I don’t deserve to be treated like that. I don’t deserve to be scared of being hit.. and I know we both know that. I try to be understanding but you need to try to be too okay..? I love you so much.. more than you might believe but Kyoutani I can’t handle being in a relationship with you if you're constantly annoyed or angry with me. I think we deserve to be happy.. and if that means needing to take a break then we would have to okay? You need to work on communicating. I know it can be hard.. but please..” you whispered. Tears flowing down your soft skin again. It was getting a lot. So it would be best if you told him… you needed him to understand.

He gently shook his head. He understood. He knew he was in the wrong. He knew he was lucky for you to be holding him.. for him to even still be in a relationship with you let alone it be still a romantic one. He loved you and he knew you didn’t deserve anything that he put you through. In the end all that mattered was you in his eyes. He was going to change.. he was. “I promise.. thank you y/n..” he whispered softly. Gently he wrapped his arms around you. “I love you so much..” he muttered. Everything would be okay.. he knew it was going to be now. All that mattered was that you were safe. That you were happy.. that you were in his arms again.

Follows and likes are appreciated! Please reblog if you enjoyed it, so more people can find my work! Thank you all for your support! Stay safe, and have a good rest of your day!

[dabilove27]

How Far We've Come

Paring: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Warnings: Angst, Character Death, Smut (female-receiving oral), A Cocky Dabi, Cussing, A lot of Pet Names

Word Count: 7.8K

A/N: This is my contribution to the Smut Pile Apocalypse Collab! If you have the time check out some of the other amazing pieces! Everyone has worked so hard to make some beautiful fics!

Thank you so much to my wife @lady-lunaaa for reading, encouraging, brainstorming, and helping me the whole way from start to finish. I have said it before but I will say it again. You are absolutely amazing and this fic wouldn't exist without you! 💜 Also thank you @/deathcab4daddy (not sure if you want to be tagged) for taking the time to read through and for your advice!

You've seen all those movies, the decaying zombie hoards, the massive explosions that wipe out nations, or an unexpected illness that mysteriously kills off the population. But you had never really expected for any of those apocalyptic things to become true in your own world.  They were just fiction, never something that could actually occur. Yet here you are faced with the reality of a hoard of rotting zombies. Like you have been thrown into one of the many movies or TV shows yourself.

People aren't even sure how it happened, especially in a world full of quirks where this should be somewhat controlled, right? Wrong, whatever caused this zombie apocalypse also seemed to nullify quirks over time. There was so much speculation whether it came into the water supply or passed through the air. But none of that really seems to matter anymore when you are fighting for your life every day.

And as the mass of decaying, walking corpses steps closer and closer to you, it seems like your end is near too. The smell of organs exposed to the air and sun stink up the room.  You can see the blank, milky white eyes of the undead that somehow can still find you even though they can't really see.  You've had a partner, at least—the man who has stood with you during this entire shit show.

He stands close to you, a single rusted knife covered in stagnant blood, not nearly enough even combined with whatever you could find for fighting off the seemingly endless mindless bodies coming your way. He's covered in burn scars and rusted staples that pull at his healthy skin. People used to jab at him for looking like the walking dead before all this went down.  His firepower from before would have solved this problem in an instant. This rotting mob wouldn't have stood a chance.

But instead, it looks like it's the conclusion for the two of you. Memories flash through your mind. A memory of escaping the daily struggle of your mundane life by sharing take-out on your old couch.  Or how his kisses always felt like burning flames against your lips.  Your regular life consisted of trying to numb the pain of the past with alcohol or working endless hours.  Even though you didn’t have a traditional relationship where you could go on public dates, being in a relationship with a well-known villain was worlds better than this. But if you were going to die, at least it was together. Solidarity in times like this seems to help the never-ending dread that the Reaper looming around every corner ready to take you.  Every moment in this new hell had you wished you had more time to develop your romance with him instead of the tragedy that was about to befall you. You wished you had more time with this romance and that it wouldn't end in tragedy. It's hard to believe that there was ever a time when you couldn't stand this man, but even now, that's a fond memory for you.  You would give anything to return to that old bar where the two of you met and relive all of these memories.

It really isn't a surprise that you met Dabi in a dark, run-down bar near Kamino.  No, not the "bar" run by Kurogiri; everyone who lived in this area knew that it was just a setup. This bar is a tiny little hole in the wall with paint chipping off the walls and where the seats were hardly held together anymore, but that didn't really matter to people who lived in this area. You didn't come to this bar for a luxury experience.

The main reason people came to this bar was its location.  It sat deep in a seedy area which meant no police patrolling nearby so you wouldn’t need to look over your shoulder constantly.  Plus, the cheap liquor was enticing enough.

Every Friday night, you were perched on one of the worn-out bar stools as you nursed your gin and tonic.  This was your place to unwind after another hellish week of your mundane job.  It was still early enough in the evening that the bar wasn't thoroughly packed with bodies trying to get their drink.  The music was still soft,  later it would blare whatever song was currently sitting at the top of the Billboard charts. You were able to turn your brain off and listen to other patrons' mindless chatter in the background.  You could just sip your drink, maybe take a shot or two if you felt like, and then head home to pass out.

You relished this little getaway, an oasis in the slums that made up your small world.  The bartender and regular patrons didn't bother you, so you could have your own peace.  But your Eden got interrupted by a cocky, fire-wielding asshole who had set his sights on you.

You didn't stir when said asshole plopped himself down in the barstool next to you with a thump.  It wasn't until the jerk actually spoke to you that you were brought out of your mindless daydreaming.

"Hey, pretty girl, what are you doing in a place like this?"  He said with a smooth tone.  You didn't even have to look at him to know he had an arrogant smirk plastered on his face.

Who the fuck does this asshole think he is? The irritated thought instantly pops into your head.  Anyone who frequented this bar knew you were from around here.  You weren't some soft, delicate flower that wasn't supposed to be "on this side of town."  Preparing yourself by putting on your best "I'm not interested face," you maneuvered your body to face him, ready to tell him off.

Your words caught in your throat as your eyes met his two endless pools of cerulean.  Your gaze shifted to take in the burnt skin clinging onto the shining staples that were rooted in his healthy skin. A familiar black coat spread across his frame that was even more recognizable than those eyes, and the patronizing smile that you wanted to slap off his face. As much as you wanted to throw up your middle finger at him and tell him off, you knew who this was. Hell, everyone knew who this was.

The League of Villains didn't necessarily keep quiet around here. They didn't have to. This is the area where they recruited people to join them. You didn't just flick off and ignore a LOV member. Especially the infamous Dabi, who wasn't really known for his kindness or compassion. More for his ability to burn anyone who defied The League to a crumbling crisp.

But still, who did this asshole think he is? Waltzing in here like he owned it and saddling down into your escape from the world only to tell you that you don't look like you should be here?  Fuck that nonsense, League member or not.

You swallow down a bit of the initial anger as your eyes narrow into a glare at the cocky asshole.  "Thanks but no thanks, I'm not interested in being involved with the League. So if you don't mind going somewhere else to scout, that would be great." You try to say without a tremble in your voice as you wave your hand in a "shoo" motion.

You aren't sure what you expect Dabi to do next., burn down the whole bar you included? Tell you that you have no choice but to join, and you're coming with him? Rip you out of your seat and reprimand you for disrespecting The League? But instead, none of those things happen.  Instead, he does something you don't expect, and his grin grows a little wider as the staples begin to pull more at his healthy flesh.

You can feel your anxiety rising. Get out, get out, get out, this asshole will kill you, leave NOW, your mind is practically sending off every warning signal it can.

Your chest tightens when Dabi lets out a low chuckle. "Oh no, sweetheart, you've got it all wrong."  He says with a dark tone. "I'm not recruiting you for work. My interest in you is personal."  Dabi points at you and then at himself and finishes with an infuriating smirk that seems to be mocking you.  He's moved his hand and placed it on your forearm that was resting on the smooth bar top.

A shiver runs through you as the mismatched textures of his skin and the cool metal of the staples.  You feel your anger bubbling up again.  How dare this jerk think that you will just fall for him like a desperate fangirl.  You are livid at this point, frustration coursing through your veins, fuck the niceties and preservation. He needed to be put in his place.

"I know you think you are some big shot because The League is doing so well right now but fuck off asshole.  I'm not a League groupie that will just kneel down and suck your dick just because you want it." You spit out at him while shrugging off his hand and moving your body to face the way you were initially sitting. Grasping your drink and lifting it to your lips, you try and down what was left so you could leave immediately, any extra moment around Dabi was a moment you didn't want to have.

You were sure Dabi would have given up or at least killed you by now. You can't imagine that he is used to being rejected by women.  He's handsome in a way that doesn't fit with the norm.  He fills in that bad boy check-list like it's his job, which it practically is given his profession.  Again though, Dabi surprises you with his response. He doesn't yell, he doesn't use his quirk, and he doesn't kill you. He lets out another dark chuckle like he's enjoying this and continues the conversation you had tried to cut off.

"I didn't say anything about sucking dick, but if you're offering, who am I to turn down a gift?"  That smooth tone is back as he moves his hand to your hair and runs it through his fingers.

Bewilderment overcomes you, and you can't even stop yourself before you are turned towards him again, glass in your hand, ready to throw what's left of your drink on him.

As if he anticipated the response, Dabi moves quickly and grabs your wrist in a tight grip.  "Now, why would you want to waste what you have left, doll? That's not a very smart choice." His grip tightens a little more around your wrist, and you can feel the staples begin to dig into your skin as he lets out a deep chuckle. He moves your hand back down to the bar but doesn't let go even after your glass has left your hand.  "There we go, good girl.  Now let's talk just a bit." He says sweetly, loosening his grip just a bit, but not enough for you to move your hand.

If looks could kill, Dabi would have died a cruel death by now. You are seething at this point.  But instead, you're stuck there as he continues to do whatever it is that he’s trying to accomplish.  "What were you drinking?  I'll buy you another one and then leave, okay doll?"  He says playfully and with a cunning grin on his face as you mumble out your drink order.  You just want him to leave, and you really hope he plans on keeping his word.

Dabi motions for the bartender's attention, gives your drink order and plops a few bills on the bartop. He still hasn't let go of your wrist, and each and every moment he is even touching you, you can feel your annoyance continuing to build.  You want to ask him if he's done yet and will kindly get the fuck out, but you have a sneaking suspicion that he likes the cat and mouse game, which would just lengthen the amount of time he sticks around.

The bartender finally delivers your drink, and it takes everything in you not to rip your wrist out of his grasp and grab the new glass to pour over Dabi's head.  "Okay, one last question, and then I'll leave."  He drawls out as you put all your focus into the condensation forming on your glass.  You stay silent, waiting for his stupid question so you can move on and never see him again.  Dabi continues with that condesending tone that is starting to cause your head to ache, "How often do you come here? I'd love to see you again."

Your heartbeat picks up, and little shots of adrenaline start to flow through you as you contemplate how to respond. Of course, you don't want this asshole to know when you come here. This is your escape from the world. You never want to even see Dabi again,  but something from this interaction tells you Dabi isn't going to give up easily. So you tell him your regular time that you show up at the bar every Friday.

Dabi squeezes your wrist a little bit before letting out another "Good girl, sounds like a date.  I'll see you then." You never want him to know how those few words send a shiver down your spine. He saunters out of the bar without having a single drink himself. Patrons stare dumbfounded between you and the doorway that Dabi just exited, trying to comprehend what just happened.

You let out an exasperated sigh before leaning your head down into your folded arms.  The bar top isn't necessarily the cleanest of places to lay your head, but it’s pounding and racing with thoughts, and you can't really bring yourself to care right now.  You try to formulate a plan so you won't ever see him. You'll just move your regular day to Saturday instead of Fridays.  But then that stubborn anger flares inside of you again, and you sit up straight, glancing at your newly unwanted drink as the ice slowly melts, lifting the remaining liquid in the cup.  No, I'm not going to let that asshole ruin my spot for me.  He can come around here every Friday, but I'll turn that jerk down a million times. You think a little smugly to yourself.  We will see how the big bad Dabi feels being turned down over and over.  Maybe that will sting his ego.

And so you and Dabi play this game of cat and mouse. He comes every Friday when you are there without fail, buying you a drink, chatting to you with sentences filled with pet names, and planning another "date" each time.  And every time you tell him you aren't interested or to go away, or really anything to try and get that stupid fucking smirk off his face.  But it always remains cemented there as he watches you get fired up.  And what you don't realize is the two of you are getting to know each other.  Dabi adds in little questions, "what's your favorite food, least favorite, what do you do for work?"  And the questions go on and on.  You don't realize your walls coming down as the two of you find similarities in each other.  And if there is one thing anyone who sees these frequent interactions between the two of you can say, it is that Dabi is determined.

You are so used to Dabi's Friday visits that they don't bring headaches anymore, and you realize something more has developed when he doesn't show up one week.  A mixture of feelings rests in you, anxiety, confusion, anger.  You wonder if he's okay, or has he finally given up.  And then anger if he has.  You don't want to admit it, but you miss his company, and you don't even have a number to reach out to him.  You feel a sense of loss in your chest.  How could he just give up?  He's been trying for months!  You think as tears begin to sting for a moment in your eyes.

You leave the bar that night not feeling uplifted or relaxed but sad and angry.  And you aren't necessarily looking forward to returning the week after, but you do come back to your regular spot and hope Dabi will show.  Your heart almost stops in your chest when you see him walk through the entrance of the bar, and before you can contain the words, they tumble out in a frantic sound, "where were you last week?"  You are standing in front of him now, looking up at that little grin he always has on his face whenever you get annoyed with him.  You cross your arms over your chest and exclaim, "Well? I'm waiting."

"Aw, did you miss me, baby girl?"  His poker face never falls, but his grin grows a tiny bit wider as he stares into your fiery eyes.  And without warning, he wraps one of his long arms around you, pulling you into a tight side hug.

A small eep escapes you at the movement, and you move to push him off.  "What the hell are you doing? Answer my question, you jerk!" You practically yell as you push away from him.  He doesn't let go and just pulls you tighter to him, and you find yourself not struggling anymore as you take in the weathered texture of his coat pressed against your arm and the smell of cigarettes on him.  You feel your walls starting to fall entirely, "I was really concerned about you." You let out in a whisper, not really wanting to admit it to him, but you weren't sure how you would feel if something like this happened again.

"Aw, babe, you did miss me."  The delight in his voice makes you shiver a little.  He gestures you over to your regular spot at the bar, and the two of you sit down in the weathered chairs.  He puts a calloused finger under your chin to bring your gaze to his.  You stare into his cerulean depths that you used to hate and find yourself softening a bit.  "I had to do something for The League, but I don't have your number, love.  So I couldn't call and let you know I wouldn't make our date."  His face relaxes a bit as he watches your frown turn into a bit of pout.

"Okay, well fine, I'll give you my number.  But don't just text me randomly, okay?"  You huff as you lay your palm flat and motion for his phone.  Dabi chuckles and shakes his head before handing you the phone without another word.  Lifting the phone, you type your number into the cracked screen and hand it back to him.  "Okay, now text me, so I have yours. " You say, moving to grab your phone to wait for his upcoming text.

"Hmmm, I don't think so, doll,"  Dabi says, taking in your furrowed brow and then relishing in the way you roll your eyes at his taunting.

"Fine, whatever, Dabi.  Just text me next time you can't make it."  You say sourly while searching for the bartender to order your drink.  You don't want Dabi to see the slight sting of hurt in your eyes because he won't give you his.  The rest of the night goes as expected, drinking and talking, and you find yourself laughing more, not realizing how much you truly enjoyed this time with him.

The two of you depart with another hug, this one much shorter than the first, but you find yourself leaning into the warmth that radiates from him instead of wanting to push him off.  As you begin walking down the street home, you feel a buzz in your pocket.  Pulling out your phone, you unlock it to the message from an unknown number.

Unknown Number: Hey babe, see you same time next week - D

A small smile comes to your face as you type a response back.

The following year you grow in your relationship with Dabi.  There are never really any titles between the two of you.  Just that the two of you are together.  You never meet The League. Dabi is insistent you aren't involved with them in case things go awry.  But you spend a lot of time together when work or villain work doesn't take up the time.

Your relationship together comes to a head at the very start of the apocalypse.  The two of you sit snuggled together on your worn-out couch watching the news as a young reporter stands in front of a local research building in town and goes through the facts of citizens becoming "mindless and violent in a matter of hours."  And how they have people under lockdown who are experiencing symptoms of this "mysterious illness."

A slight shiver goes through you as the reporter goes on.  "That's really scary. No one knows what's causing it,"  you reflect aloud while you lean in closer into Dabi's outstretched arm that is resting around your shoulders.

"Aw, babe, don't be scared.  Those mindless fools wouldn't stand a chance if they tried to lay a hand on you while I'm there,"  Dabi says with a glint of amusement in his voice.  He always sounds so condescending, but you know it's the truth.  Remembering a time at the bar when a guy wouldn't take no for an answer-not that Dabi really followed that either- but Dabi didn't hesitate to let the guy know you were already taken.  He flirts and likes to jab a lot, but there’s a complete shift in the atmosphere when he's serious.

"Ugh, Dabi, you know I don't mean them attacking us. It's whatever is causing it that worries me. What happens if one of us gets it?  There's no cure right now,"  You say and worry your lower lip between your teeth.

Dabi picks up on your anxious state, and his cocky facade fades.  He pulls you on his lap so that you are fully facing him with legs pressed on either side of his.  Dabi holds one large hand on your waist, and the other he presses to your cheek.  Leaning your cheek further into his hand, Dabi moves his thumb to trace over the slight marks in your lip where your teeth were just placed.  "Hey, listen to me, nothing is going to happen, okay?  I won't let any of these maniacs hurt you, and we won't catch whatever they have,"  Dabi says tenderly as he gives you a small smile.

It's nice to see him like this- when his mask of superiority disappears, and he's focused on encouraging you.  It doesn't happen often because you like to keep walls.  Comfort from Dabi doesn’t need to happen often but you can’t say you don’t like it when he does.  You enjoy these softer moments with him that only you get to see.

You pull Dabi into a light kiss.  The gentle pressure of his mismatched lips fit seamlessly against yours.  You pull away after a moment to look into his deep blue eyes that now captivate you.  Dabi has that coy smile still on his face, and as his eyes meet your in that moment, it's like the horrible events of the world aren't happening anymore.  All that seems to exist is the two of you, not the TV still prattling in the background or even the noises outside your city window.

Dabi lightly caresses your cheek down to the length of your neck and finally ending near where your collarbones sit.  Everywhere he touches leaves behind a trail of goosebumps on your skin.  Even with these simple touches, you can feel yourself starting moving against him, trying to create a bit of friction.  Dabi knew how easily he could rile you up with simple touches.  It was frustrating at times, and you wished you could have the same effect on him.

"I love you, babe.  And no matter what, I won't let anything hurt you,"  Dabi tells you, and you swear his voice seems to be cracking, but the moment is gone before you can think about it.  Dabi lives on being mysterious most of the time, and you rarely get to see this vulnerable side of him.  Even if he doesn't say it behind that mask of cockiness, you can feel that there is fear of what's happening right now.  Or at least that's what you think the fear is from, but Dabi will never admit the fear is from losing you to whatever this is.  He isn't sure he could survive this hell of a life he's been given without you.

Your heart aches at his sincere words from earlier, and you whisper back, "I love you too, Dabi."  Drawing him into a more intense kiss.  Dabi begins to run his fingers along the hem of your t-shirt and delicately brushes the skin right under with his fingertips.  You feel a moan bubble up inside of you, but his mouth moving against yours swallows the sound.

"I want you so bad, doll.  Let's just forget what's going on right now, let the world fall away,"  he says in a husky voice after breaking away from the kiss.

You nod to him before letting out a content sigh and letting your eyes fall shut while Dabi continues to trace his hands over your body.  Dabi trails his massive heated hands under the thin shirt you are wearing and down to your hips.  You can feel the bulge of his cock through his jeans as it begins to press against your clothed core.

Opening your eyes, you meet Dabi's half-lidded lustful eyes and bite your bottom lip and allow yourself to give into Dabi taking over you.

You can feel your heart beating a little faster, watching Dabi drink in every ounce of you.  Dabi is one of the only men you have ever trusted like this.  To have you so totally vulnerable.  It's strange how someone you didn't want anything to do with for months has become someone you rely on for everything- love, comfort, pleasure.

Dabi places open-mouthed kisses along your neck that leave you breathless.  "Fuck, I'm obsessed with every inch of you,"  Dabi growls out before returning to kissing and sucking your neck and exposed collar bone.

You grip Dabi's shoulder to ground you back from floating away into complete bliss and tip your head out to give him more access to your neck.  Dabi's mouth is like a flame that licks at your sensitive skin as he continues to trail his mouth all over.  You could be trapped in this pleasure forever.

Dabi grasps the back of your head and roughly brings your lips back to his.  With your mouths slotted against each other, you moan as Dabi finesses you to where you are lying on your back on the old couch, and he is hovering over you.

You break the kiss to quickly pull off his jacket and expose Dabi's scarred arms.  And just as you have only trusted Dabi fully with yourself, he has done the same.  Of course, the two of you have had sex with other people, mostly with lights off clothing still left on to hide the imperfections.  But with each other, there is no more hiding.

Heat begins to pool in your belly as you watch Dabi pull off your shorts and slide his warm hands all the way back up your leg and massage the plush skin of your thighs.  Once your shorts are removed, Dabi brings himself back to your face and, with a lustful sigh, traces kisses on your jaw and neck.

"Just relax and let me take you away from all of this, love.  I want to hear every sound you make." He growls as he moves down towards your pussy and lays himself between your spread legs.  Dabi lifts your thighs to rest on his shoulder as you let out a little gasp.  You can feel the excitement and heat rising in you.

Dabi kisses down the inside of your soft thighs and stops to suck at certain spots, leaving minor marks in their place.  He stops for a moment until you are looking directly into his captivating gaze, and then he licks a stripe up your pussy over the cotton of your underwear.  You let out a breathy moan at the sensation.   That jerk knows precisely what he's doing.

Dabi then grabs the thin material of your underwear and rips them away from your body with a tear. Groaning, you are about to curse at him for ruining another pair but are cut short when he sleekly licks up your folds. A delicate, playful moan leaves your separated lips.  Your eyes close, and you cling onto his white shirt to ground yourself.

"Baby girl, you're soaking wet," Dabi teases as if you weren't aware but cuts off any retort again with a quick suck to your aching clit. You can't hold back the loud moan that bubbles up in your throat.

Dabi smiles against your lower lips and continues his ministrations.   His mouth is open wide, so he can move back and forth from quickly licking up and down your sensitive pussy as well as suck softly on your clit.   You feel light-headed at the extended sensations, little whimpers and moans falling through your lips.  Dabi has always been able to leave you speechless with just his mouth.

"Dabi please," Your breathing hitches, and you moan out as he flicks his tongue repeatedly over your small bud. You can feel that hot pressure building in your stomach as Dabi continues. He laps at you like you are holding the only source of liquid left in this world, his tongue working wonders on your dripping hole.

Dabi pulls back and looks up at you as you eagerly meet his blue eyes, begging him to continue.  He smirks before lowering his mouth back down and laps at your sopping core teasingly.  Fucking bastard.  Always a tease from day one.

Dabi licks his lips before returning to eating you out even faster as a series of cries and obscenities continue to fall out of your mouth.  You can't hold them back.  His mouth is so hot and wet against your core.

With another curse, you tell him you are close. A sigh escapes your lips, and your head tosses back onto the cushy arm of the couch.  Dabi pulls away but inserts two fingers inside of you in place of his mouth.

"Fuck, sweetheart, as much as I want to hear you beg and plead for me,  I want to taste you right now."  Dabi lets out with a rough voice filled with desire.  You whimper as he continues to fuck you with his fingers.  He smirks at your blissed-out face and then returns his mouth to your pussy.  His tongue flicks over your clit repeatedly as whines and cries continue to be let out of your mouth.  Back arching, you bite at your lip, barely able to even process the words that came out of Dabi just a moment ago.

"Oh, fuck, Dabi, please. Please, I'm gonna cum soon." The words fall from your lips, and your mind feels numb to everything except the feeling of Dabi's tongue on your pussy.

Dabi grunts and gives another hard suck to your clit before pulling away just a bit.  "Hell yeah, babe, come all over my face."

Your eyes roll back, and your mouth opens with another cry as your legs begin to tremble as the tension starts to rise in your stomach. One more lick, and you know you'd come. Dabi's continued suckling of your clit sends you careening over the edge. Your cries fill the room, and your back arches as your legs try to squeeze around his head.  Dabi continues to suck and lick as you orgasm.  Panting and with your eyes twisted shut, you cling to his shirt as you start to come down.  A final curse gently leaves your mouth as you wait for your legs to stop shaking.  Dabi takes one last long slow lick before sitting back and wiping his face with the back of his hand.  You can't bring yourself to move from the couch, still panting and weak.

Your mind starts slowly coming back to you as the bliss begins to leave.  The realization of everything happening in the world washes over you.  But you were thankful Dabi took the time to distract you from the horrors of what's going on.  You move over so Dabi can cuddle with you on the couch.  It isn't much room, but it feels good to be this close with him, wrapped in each other's arms.  You both slowly start to drift off to sleep, but you don't miss Dabi's final words mumbled into your hair, "I'll never let anything happen to you."

Shortly after that, the world seems to descend into madness.  The illness grows more and more rampant.  People are getting infected every day.  Whether it's through the original source of contamination or by those contaminated biting or scratching someone.  Panic spreads throughout the country.  But through all of it, you and Dabi stick together.

From the moment it was declared an emergency Dabi was banging at your door, insisting the two of you find somewhere safer than your run-down apartment.  Because while the two of you needed sleep, whatever these things are could go non-stop, and your apartment was not fortified.

You and Dabi lost your quirks a month after the emergency declaration, along with the rest of the population. People couldn't fight these zombie-like creatures off anymore.  Like all the movies and TV shows, the bodies became more zombies than actual living people.

After a while of jumping around from a destroyed place to another, the two of you found yourself in an apartment building that had a sturdy enough entrance that the zombies couldn't break through.  The daily struggles were still hard, though. Finding food and water to survive became a daily task for the two of you.  Through all of this, he never left your side. He always insisted the two of you stay together.  And so you did.  Fighting the living dead, but sometimes the living too when things got even more terrible, and scavenging was your everyday routine now.

You lost track of time and could only follow when the seasons changed.  But Dabi was really the only thing getting you through this.  Seeing people destroy one another for food or shelter destroyed you inside.  Never knowing if these zombies you were killing were someone you had known at one point, or just another faceless dead person tore at every corner of your brain.  Dabi stayed strong for the two of you.  Holding you every night on the ripped blankets, you could gather for the strange bed the two of you slept in.  You would sob into his muscled chest about how you couldn't live in this world anymore, how you couldn't kill another person, alive or dead.

But Dabi would never let go.  He would hold you close and let your never-ending tears stain the only shirt he had now.  He would rub your back with his warm hands; even though his rusting staples would catch on your shirt and rip from his skin, he still did it.  He would hold you until you fell asleep, whispering how strong you were and how he could never do this without you.  And after all the tears, you were thankful too.  Because without him, you'd be dead or alone.  You knew that without Dabi, you would have never survived this long.

But you could see Dabi was hurting too.  You couldn't find supplies to treat his decaying skin.  He hid his daily pain from you, but when Dabi thought you weren't looking or listening, he would hiss at the pain of another staple pulling at his burnt skin or let out a huge sigh when he would try to put it back together, but it wouldn't cooperate.

The only hope the two of you held onto was each other and that possibly a cure would come soon.  Not that either you could really access that information with no electricity; there wasn't any way to get information other than hearsay.  You survived the best you could in this world.

And as much as this wasn't what you would have picked for either of you, at least you had each other.  You tried not to think of a time when you wouldn't be together, even though the chances of that happening were high- it hurt too much. To survive in this world without Dabi would be too fucking much.

It's almost as if fate chose to play a cruel game with the two of you.  It seemed like a "normal" trip out to scavenge for food and water.  The two of you had to expand your search area since places closer were mainly empty.

This time you found yourself outside of a convenience store, a reasonable distance away from your home.  It hadn't been completely destroyed by some miracle and was not overrun by the zombified people.  Still, in a state of decay, though, Dabi was quickly able to kick his heavy boots through the door and get the two of you in.

Sauntering through the gas station, you quickly begin to pick up canned food and stale bags of chips and shove them in your worn backpack.  Dabi is doing the same on other aisles until he lets out a chuckle.  "Hey babe, look what I found."  He says with a cocky voice holding up a few boxes of wrapped condoms above the aisle for you to see.

You roll your eyes.  "Thanks, Dabi. Is sex really what we want to be thinking about right now? Let's just get this shit and get out."  You let out with an annoyed huff and continue to push the limits of how much your bag can hold.

Dabi comes over to your aisle and snakes his arms around your waist with your back pressed to his chest.  He places his chin on your shoulder and whispers in your ear.  "Yes, all I can think about is getting your beautiful body back home and finally being able to finish in you, and with these, I can."  He lets out a dark chuckle as he pulls you closer against him and bucks  his hips playfully.

"Okay, horn dog, let's get this shit done, and then we can do whatever you want back home."  You let out with an eye roll.  It's hard to stay mad at him. You know he's trying to keep things light for you, to keep you happy because he can see how hard this is.  And his regular teasing is one way he knows will bring a smile to your face.

As you are finishing up trying to take inventory of anything else in the store that you can take back, you spot the clear plastic that holds the cartons of cigarettes behind the cashier counter.  While you didn't necessarily want Dabi smoking, you knew he missed the vice. Cigarettes were just as hard to find as medicine in this new world.  Smiling to yourself, you move behind the counter and reach for the plastic flap to lift it up.

As you try to lift the latch, it doesn't budge. You look around for what might be blocking it before seeing the tiny silver keyhole to one side of the compartment.  Crap, of course, it's locked.    You really wanted to surprise Dabi with this.  Maybe you still could. The key had to be here somewhere, right? You think while scanning around the counter.  You try searching through the counters for a hidden key but no luck.  Letting out a heavy sigh, you call Dabi over.

Dabi wanders over to your annoyed face and can't help but smile at your slight pout.  "I wanted to surprise you! But I can't open it. Can you get it, please?"  It comes out almost like a whine as you gesture to the cigarettes.

Dabi's smirk turns into a genuine smile, and he pats the top of your head before saying, "My sweet doll.  Thank you for thinking of me. Let me help you out."  You could smack him, but instead, you watch as he hastily rips the plastic covering away and slips his hand below it to grab one of the wrapped cartons.

At that moment, everything changes.  The fun times the two of you were having shatters as a loud alarm rings through the store.  Panic floods your system as you stare at Dabi wide-eyed.  "There is no electricity. What's happening? There shouldn't be an alarm."  Horror is laced in your voice as words spill out of you.  Every walking corpse within miles will be here soon with the sound.

"Fuck, must have had a battery attachment. Come on, let's go."  Dabi's usual playfulness is gone as he abandons the cigarettes and grabs your hand.  He's grave now.  Getting the two of you out of here safely is his only goal.

You follow Dabi quickly, a hand grasped tightly in his as he runs towards the broken-down front door.   And that's when even more terror settles into you.  Zombies are pushing their way through the open door.  Their rotting bodies and white eyes focused on the area where the alarm is coming from.  There weren't many around when you broke in, but now it seems like they are multiplying by the moment.

"Fuck fuck fuck." Dabi curses under his breath, quickly turning around and pulling you towards the building's back exit.  You follow behind adrenaline surging through your veins fueled by your flight response.  Dabi grasps at the metal handle to the back door and shakes it only to find it locked.  "Damnit!"  he shouts before kicking the door violently.

Your heart is pounding, and you feel helpless as you stare at Dabi while he continues to slam himself at the door.  While the front door was glass and flimsier, this door was only budging slightly.  With all your focus on the door, you don't notice the continuously growing herd filtering into the gas station.  Not until you feel one brush against your shoulder.

Your eyes widen as you feel a scream bubbling in your throat.  This is it.   This is where the two of you die and either become fodder for a herd of living dead or turn into one yourself.   Your brain is pure panic as thoughts fly through faster than you can catch them.  You don't even realize you have screamed out Dabi's name until you see his face turn towards yours.

His typically blue eyes are almost entirely covered by his dark pupils as he takes in the monstrosities behind you.  But unlike you, he doesn't hesitate. He pulls out a knife he keeps in one of his pockets and slams it into the decaying skull of the zombie that is right behind you.  Splurts of dark blood hit your cheek as he pulls out the knife, and the creature behind you crumples to the floor.

"Keep trying the door! I'll keep them off you."  Dabi shouts, pulling you into the spot he previously stood.  Your heartbeat is so loud you can feel it in your head, and you can't even make a coherent response as you begin to slam your body against the solid surface.  You can feel it give a little more with each push of your body, and everything in you is screaming not to give up.  Doing your best not to glance at Dabi's grunting and movements as he continues to try and put down zombie after zombie.

You can't give up; this can't be the end . Desperately your brain is screaming as you continue to feel the door give more and more.  Your shoulder hurts from the continued impact, but you aren't letting it slow you down.  You can feel it; it's almost there.

Suddenly the door gives, and you can see the sun shining through on the other side.  You cry out in  relief and turn back to tell Dabi to come with you.  But as your eyes meet, fear fills every ounce of you.

He's still fighting them off, but there is a gaping bite wound on his right arm— rows of teeth marks embedded in his skin.  You feel like you're going to be sick. There is no coming back from this; there's no known cure.  At any point within the next twenty-four hours, he would be another one of the walking dead, no sense, no logic, and looking to consume others. This can't be happening, this can't be happening.  Your heart is sinking with every second that ticks by.

"What the fuck are you waiting for? Get out! Get out!"  Dabi screams at you as he embeds his knife in another zombie.

"No, no, I can't leave without you!  I-we can find something.  I'll find something, please! Come on, Dabi, I can't do this without you!"  You are sobbing now, hot tears streaming through the dirt and blood mixed on your face.  An ache in your heart starts to form.  You know you don't know how to help him, but you'll do anything to not leave him behind.

Dabi lets out a grin despite the feral dead people closing in on him.  And gives you a wink before saying in a voice that seems too calm for the situation, "Come on, doll, you are the most intelligent person I know.  You have to go.  Live for us, babe.  Look at how far we've come.  Go show this world that it won't ever break you down. I love you, and I'll come to find you wherever you are in the afterlife and annoy the shit out of you.  Now go!"

It's like your heart is being ripped into a thousand pieces. Your breath comes out in short huffs, moving towards hyperventilating.  You want to go back to Dabi and cling on for dear life, but you won't let him die in vain.  Not after that speech.  That would be an insult to everything the two of you have overcome.  So with all your strength, you give your lover, the man who has come so far with you, the last look before letting out a final "I love you too" and burst out the door.

You don't look back, aching feet propelling you forward as tears continue to stream and fall off your face.  When you first met Dabi, you would have never thought you'd miss him.  But you will , you'll miss every snarky comment, every flirty glance, and the tender way only he has loved you.  The man that you were sure was just some asshole trying to get laid became the love of your life and sacrificed himself so you could live.  And you could never let that go to waste.

[yunhofingers-writes]

Alone- Yeosang (FWB)

Note♥︎- This is part two to FWB! i remember @yeotlny mentioned something about me adding a part two to this and so i did it hehehehe.. Please i don’t write angst so this was pretty much my second time trying this. .As always if you want to be added to my taglist, here it is

Genre♡︎- Angst

Warnings/Tags♥︎- Mention of sex, grinding, cheating, Sad life man

Pairing: Yeasang X F | Wooyoung X F!

Word count♡︎- 1871+

❥- You ran home with tears in your eyes, regretting everything. Your heart hurts just thinking about everything that happened. Your boyfriend was always so sweet to you, always treated you right, gave you everything you wanted, loved you the way you’ve always wanted and you ruined it all.

You’re a cheater and have been for 2 months. You would still kiss your boyfriend’s lip even after you blew Yeosang somewhere. Yeosang was your best friend, and your fuck buddy. It’s always been that way since college.

At first, you were just his friend who had a pathetic little crush on him. Your crush has been carrying from freshman year until junior year in college when you had the guts to finally tell him. He frowned at you and wouldn’t have talked to you for at least 2 months. You spent those 2 months crying and working on yourself. Bettering yourself.

Yeosang finally came back to you the moment you were willing to find self love in yourself, the moment you were happy again. You had some words to tell him.

He asked to speak with you first and you were ready, or so you thought. The moment you stepped into his house, you were pushed against the door by Yeosang. His lips were kissing all around you, bucking his hips into yours. Your mind is only thinking of one thing: your crush is trying to have intercourse with you. He let go of you and looked into your eyes “Do you want to do this with me for real?” He asked and you nodded quickly.

You woke up in his bed the next morning, thinking you both were a couple. His exact words were “look, yesterday was fun, but I would rather us just be friends. I'm not ready for a relationship.” There went your confidence you spent months working on.

There was nothing that could fix your sadness, not even your bestest friend, Mingi.

Surprisingly, you were the one who ran back to him, kissing him. You were the one who told him ‘let’s become friends with benefits

Of course with some hesitation, Yeosang agreed.

A year later, you found your boyfriend, Wooyoung. You two were so happy together. He always did what he had to for you to be happy. He loved you like no other, gave you all of his attention and loyalty, unlike you.

Not even two month in the relationship, you cheated with Yeosang. You just couldn’t get over Yeosang and his cock. He fucked you too well for you to run away that fast, to walk in general.

Today was your breaking point, you felt so bad at how easily you walked in the house like you did nothing behind his back. He would kiss you, cook for you, run your bath, everything to make you happy. You were just treating him like trash.

Yeosang bringing up Wooyoung in your sex session today has made you realize you were a horrible girlfriend. You cried until you got a headache.

You know what you have to do. Wooyoung deserves better and a better girlfriend.

You spent the rest of your night crying until you went to bed.

You woke up in the worst mood ever. You didn’t even want to check your phone at all, but you knew you had to.

You checked it and saw that you had 20 missed calls from Wooyoung, 1 missed call from Yeosang, 12 missed calls from Mingi, and 2 missed calls from San, Wooyoung;s best friend.You panicked, not knowing what to do. San never calls you. you were scared

You felt that it was less stressful if you called Mingi back, so that was what you did.

“Hel-“

You didn’t even get your words out before Mingi started storming off on you.

“What did we talk about already huh? You promised me you were going to leave Yeosang alone! And what happened? You got yourself in some shit. I’m not helping you this time, you’re on your own.” Mingi nagged and you started crying.

“Mingi- please I don’t know what to do.”

“Uh uh- maybe next time actually try to listen to me, okay? I’ll be here if you need a shoulder to cry on, sweetheart.”

You ended the call with one question on your mind.

How the fuck does Mingi know? Wait-

You quickly called San and to your misfortune, he answered.

“I’m disappointed in you. I told you not to hurt him, and that’s exactly what you did. You should be ashamed of yourself for this horrible behavior.” San told you, voice light.

“That’s not what I called you for though. Wooyoung said ``meet him at his house now.”

Before you asked any questions, he ended the call.

Now you were really panicking. Your body felt super heavy.

This was all your fault. Everything was your fault and you knew that. You just weren’t ready to actually take accountability for it.

You wanted to run away and never look back.

You were regretting everything.

You shouldn’t have done anything with Yeosang.

You got ready for the day as slow as possible, not looking forward to it. You wondered if you could just sleep your problems away and ignore everyone. You know you can’t. You can’t run or sleep away from everything.This is your mistake and you must own up to it.

No matter how many times you tell yourself this, you know it’s not making you feel better.

+

You walked to Wooyoung’s house, slowly of course, thinking about all of the laughs you shared with Wooyoung, the kisses, the hugs, the small gifts you use to give each other unexpectedly. Everything was ruined quickly with a snap of the finger all because you wanted dick..

pathetic..

You hate yourself right now.

You really lowered your standards to someone who doesn’t even care about your happiness. Someone who only thinks of having sex with you, nothing else.

Why would you do that to yourself? How could you do that to yourself?

You squeezed your eyes together tightly, trying to see if you’re dreaming. You have to be, there’s no way you’re not dreaming.

You opened them and were in front of Wooyoung’s house. You nervously knocked on the door 3 times. You hoped he wasn’t here so you could run home.

Your stomach dropped down when you heard the door opening. So this was happening right now..It was time for confrontation and honestly, you were nowhere near ready.

Wooyoung was staring through your soul right now. You fiddled with your fingers, suddenly finding the ground entertaining.

“You can come in.” You winced at how cold his voice was. He sounded like he hated you and you couldn’t blame him.’

You were just confused on how he even found out.

You tried to shake your nerves off as you walked in the house, surprised to see Yeosang sitting there, smirking at you. “Hey.” He waved.

You nervously waved at him and sat down on the chair next to him, across from Wooyoung.

“I’m going to ask you this once.”

This is really happening right now.

“Did you cheat on me?”

You looked down and gnawed on your lip. You didn’t want to look him in the face. You didn’t want to see him sad, you didn’t want to see him angry.

“Well?!” His voice raised a little higher and you jumped. Yeosang just looked, daydreamed.

“I did.” You cried out. Tears streaming down your face endlessly. You felt so bad. Your heart hurts

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung looked away, jaw locked.

“I don’t want to hear it.” Wooyoung pulled at his hair and walked away.

“I knew you were doing something sneaky behind my back. I just couldn’t pin-point it.”

He walked back to you, eyes glossy. “I would’ve never thought you would’ve been the one to cheat on me. What did I do wrong? Was I not good enough? Did I not give you everything you wanted?”

You thought you were crying earlier, You’re balling now.

All you could do was apologize to him. You can feel his heart shatter right in front of you and Yeosang.

The unanswered question was finally answered.

“Yeosang sent me a video.”

Your eyes widened and you looked at Yeosang who wasn’t paying you no mind.

“He told me that he felt bad he was fucking you while i was waiting for you.” His tears dropped

You watched as Yeosang nodded.

“I want to break up.” He had his eyes closed as he said his statement.

You saw this coming. You just weren't prepared for it. at all.

You nodded your head, and looked back down, embarrassed that this is all happening in front of Yeosang, upset that he was the one who snitched and got away, and overall disappointed in yourself for letting yourself down like that.

After all of these years of being hard on yourself, not having self love and having to build all of that, you’ve learned nothing.

You deserve everything that just happened.

You can’t even be mad at Yeosang. You deserved it all.

“Was this fun to you?!” Wooyoung harshly questioned, showing you the video of you and Yeosang’s last sex session. You watched, defeated.

“Was it worth our relationship?” He was harshly wiping his tears. “I thought we were something. I didn’t know that sex affected our relationship that bad.” He shook his head, finally ready to accept defeat and go on with his life.

“Don’t say anything, just leave, both of you.” He walked to his door and slowly opened it.

Yeosang got up first, bowing and walked out with you following.

Once you both left, you turned him around. He faced you with a blanked face.

“Why did you do that?! I wanted to do it on my own. I didn’t fucking need your help.” You spat out

He rolled his eyes and pushed your hand off of his shoulder. “You’re just as wrong as I am. You came to me first with your ‘yeosang, i’m horny’ ‘yeosang touch me please’ ‘yeosang he can’t fuck me like you’ bull shit and now you want to cry because you got caught in your bullshit. We’ve been fucking for 2 months without your poor boyfriend knowing. I don’t want to longer fuck a cheater. “ He stood still, dark eyes piercing through yours.

“But you were with me in this.” You cried harder.

“And now I'm not. If you’ll excuse me, I have a date to go to today.” He brushed past your shoulder and your eyes widened.

A date?

Is this why you outed me? So I could get out of your way? So I could lose my relationship? Or because you simply thought it was entertainment?”

Yeosang turned around with a loud sigh, getting frustrated at you yelling at him. “I’m ready for a relationship now, I no longer want to have play time with you anymore. It’s your choice whether you accept it or not but you will respect it.”

That was his last words to you before completely moving out of your life.

You ruined everything.

You have nothing, nobody.

You were alone now.

Alone.

End

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