#and every single time he stops to talk to someone he would lean his elbows on the table and like. arch his back

[saeiken]

more jojo sketches :>

[seungkwanniee]

pairing : boyfriend!seventeen x gn!reader

genre : fluffff !!!

warnings : mention of food

synopsis : how they show love around people

an : felt so ispired today that I writed sm 😭

〔masterlist〕

S.COUPS 』

I think he would be always clingy even around the boys

he is not ashamed to show love at all, just a little bit laied back

and, we know seventeen, they would tease their leader so much about his

he would pout, while wrapping your waist with his arms and leaning his chin into the crack of your neck

never speaking to the boys until they stop with their teasing

eventually, he would scold them still with pouting lips

he clinges beside you when it's crowdy, always staying on the front so he can lead you and you are safe

JEONGHAN 』

this man is SHAMELESS (loved this serie btw)

don't even think he will hide his actions, he will most probably display them

maybe he would even do it on propuse, just to see you all frustrated

the boys don't even try to tease him, Jeonghan would roast them ×13 so

the type to kiss you on the lips, your forehead or play with your hair

eventually he has his arm wrapped around your shoulder, leaning closer to you so he can smell your scent

JOSHUA 』

a true gentleman, so he wouldn't do nothing if you are not the type of skinship in public

but, if you are he is still so gentle about it

when you two accidentally do eyes contact, he would smile and pinch your cheeks because you are too cute for him

but he is much cuter

he is feeding you for sure, but he is so casual about it that it makes you a hundred times more confortable

observe you from afar doing nothing, he just likes to admire you

JUN 』

he is shyyy

he likes to move your hair on the side so your neck and cheek is exposed to him

he is looking at you like he want to shower you with love but he is blocked for some reasons

you look at him with a smirk when you feel his eyes on you

you'll do nothing, you want him to be bolder

when he finally find the courage he would place a quick and warm kiss on your jaw

he is blushing after this tho

HOSHI 』

soo clingy

he just looks at you and it's over, you're too cute in his eyes

scares you by suddently hugging you from the side and shaking you in his arms

or he would lower at your height squeezing your cheeks togheter

pecking your lips is a must

he would laugh a little embarassed after, especially if someone point it out

but he can't help it, he needs to do it

WONWOO 』

reserved about it but not that much

he would fix you hair even if they are pefect just to have a claim

he need to touch you but at the same time not dispaying it, leave him alone

holding your hand or squeezing your thigh under the table every single time

if you wear glasses, he is cleaning it for you

this is his love lenguage

WOOZI 』

he is really reserved about his relationship

pda isn't really a thing for him in private, so imagine in public

maybe he is putting his hand on your lower back

mostly for letting you walk, but if he is in the mood the would just do it because he wants to feel him

whispering things in your ear and thats when he slightly touches your shoulder or you arm

DOKYEOM 』

man is WHIPPED fo you, so don't even try to ask him to not touch you in public

he phiscally cannot touch you when you are near him

calling you pet names is a must

his voice goes so sweet and honey when he talks to you

his eyes and big smile tells everything that needs to be said

when he feels extra clingy, he goes so far as to kiss you on the lips

BLUSHING SO HARD AFTER that he hides his face on your neck

MINGYU 』

man is so goofy

even himself is confused about what he is doing

when he thinks he is going to hug you, he change his mind mid way and now he want to coup your face

thats only make him hit your face with his elbow

he laughs at your face holding the place where he hitted you

for excusing he kiss your forehead or near your eye

feel like he is the type to lay his head on your shoulder and listen silently your conversation

MINGHAO 』

it may seems the contrary but he is reserved about his relationship

he search for your hand, just for intertwine your pinkys

yk, they are smaller, they get less attention lol

he checks on you COSTANTLY

he almost look like a mother for how he worries for you

words are deffo his way to show love and get unnoticed at the same time

he adjustes your dress or lace your shoes or even the heels

SEUNGKWAN 』

he is stressed because he would shower you with love every second but at the same time he is awkward

he makes sure that everyone is listening when youre talking

and if someone interrupts, he is giving them a big side eye

becomes almost like the evil when someone disrespect you and would stand for you like his life depends on it

small touches are the cherry on top

maybe when youre talking he move your hair out of your face

or hold your purse for you

VERNON 』

vernon is weird (in a good way)

he doesn't even realize he should do something to show love lol

the love is inside of him and he tells you when there are just the two of you

unconsciously orders food for you because he knows you too well

or buy things for you at the vending machines even if you didn't ask because when he thinks about whay you like frist

feel like he would intertwine his arm with yours even if it's unexpected.

or take the Seunkwan habit and touch your ears every now and then

DINO 』

not shy to admit his love in public

he have 12 hyungs that will probably make fun of him? yes. He cares? absolutely not

he touches you every chance he get

if he passes you something, It is MANDATORY to let your hands touch

he gets so into you that he literally gets stuck, he can't leave his eyes from you

gets so involved in your side profile, an hand supporting his head and love escaping from his eyes

someone always gotta call him back to the real world

[winchesterwild78]

The PE Teacher

Master List

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: mention of alcohol and death of a parent. Nothing bad.

A/N: This was an idea given to me by @jackles010378. Dean is a newly hired PE teacher at the school you teach at. He isn’t a hunter and Sammy is a lawyer. You’re a Kindergarten teacher and you take a liking to the new staff member. Does he feel the same? This will be a few chapters.

This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. I don’t own the rights to any of these characters.

Does not follow the Supernatural Timeline.

Written fast and not edited well. Please overlook any errors.

Reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated.

Please don’t take my work and use it as your own or on any other platform.

Minors DNI 18+

It was late August and teachers were returning to work. You walked in with your bag in hand ready for another school year.

You were excited and a little nervous. You knew there would be so many new staff members this year.

Walking in you greeted some colleagues and then you stopped by the office to get your keys.

“Hey, Y/N, how was your summer?” Ms Smith the secretary asked. “Hey. It was great. I did a lot of reading and some relaxing. How was yours?”

“It was good. My daughter got married.” “Oh that’s exciting. I can’t wait to see the pictures.”

She smiled and handed you your keys. “Have a great day, Y/N.” I smiled and said “you too.”

I walked out of the office and headed towards my classroom. I opened the door and took a deep breath. Getting the room ready was hard and time consuming. I was ready to get started.

I heard a squeal behind me and turned to see one of my teammates coming down the hall.

“Y/N!! I missed you so much.” She dropped her stuff and hugged me. I laughed, “Me too. Are you ready for this? We have the welcome back meeting in about fifteen minutes.”

“I’ll be there. I can’t wait to meet all the new staff. I heard the new PE teacher is a total babe.”

I snorted and rolled my eyes. “I’ll see you soon. Save me a seat.” She nodded and went into her room.

About fifteen minutes later I was sitting beside Karie and Tiffany in the welcome meeting.

Staff were coming in and greeting everyone. The new staff tried to slip in, but Karie, Tiffany and I greeted them all with a big smile and welcome.

Right before the meeting started I looked over and sitting near the door was a teacher I’d never seen before.

He was tall, bow legs, very handsome, sandy brown hair and piercing green eyes. My breath hitched.

Karie leaned over, “Y/N, I think that’s the new PE teacher.” He was talking to someone and when he laughed his head went back and he used his whole body to laugh. I couldn’t help but smile.

He looked over at me and our eyes met. A red hue filled my face and he smiled. I bit my lip.

The principal said it was time to make staff introductions. He started calling out grade levels. When he got to Kindergarten the three of us stood, introduced ourselves and Karie decided to announce that I was still single.

I looked over at the new teacher and he smirked.

Next was his turn. He stood and introduced himself, “Hi. I’m Dean Winchester and I’m the new PE teacher. I’m also still single.” He winked at me.

I wanted to crawl under the table and hide. Karie elbowed me and giggled.

Later in the day we were working in our classrooms. I had my hair in a messy bun and music playing.

As I cleaned and unpacked I sang and danced. There was a chuckle and a knock coming from my door. I spun around and saw Dean standing there.

I jumped and turned off the music. “Don’t stop on my account, sweetheart.” I chuckled, “Hey Mr Winchester. Do you need anything?”

He stepped in the room, “Dean, please call me Dean and yeah. I wanted to apologize and tell you I hope I didn’t embarrass you earlier.”

“No, Karie has a big mouth. She does this every year. Her and Tiffany are married with kids so she’s trying to marry me off.” I laughed.

“Well, at least you know she cares.” “Oh yeah, I know how much she cares.” I laughed.

“Well, Y/N, I’ll let you get back to work. You know where I am if you need anything.” I nodded, “Thank you, you too.”

The next month of school flew by. My students were doing great and loved going to PE.

The single moms and teachers took a liking to Dean. I did my best to maintain professional behavior, but damn was it hard.

Every flirt, giggle and soft touch that came Dean’s way he politely declined. I couldn’t help but feel a little jealous with all the women that threw themselves at him.

It was Friday and I was working late in my room. Most of the teachers and staff had already left for the night.

I didn’t want to stay late, but I had some things I needed to take care of.

I was sitting at my desk working when I heard a knock on my door. I looked up and saw Dean. He was dressed in jeans and a dark green Henley. Damn he looked good.

“Hey Dean. I didn’t know you were still here.”

“Yeah. I was about to head out and noticed your car was still here. You seem to be the last one here and I didn’t want to leave you alone.”

“Oh wow, I didn’t realize it was so late. I appreciate you coming back, but you don’t have to stay. I’ll be okay.”

Dean furrowed his brow, “Nope. My mom would kick my ass if I let a woman walk in a dark parking lot alone. I don’t mind. I was just going to grab some food and a drink, so I have no plans.” He chuckled.

“Okay, well I’m almost done. I appreciate it. Thank you, Dean.” He nodded and I continued working.

God look at him. He’s normally dressed in his PE clothes, shirt and red shorts, knee high socks, sneakers and his whistle that hangs around his neck. He looks so amazing in jeans and that shirt. It fits just snug enough to show off his pecks.

I don’t realize I’m staring until I look up and we make eye contact. I cleared my throat, “Sorry.”

“No problem, darlin’. I like what I see too.”

I bit my lip and turned to pack up. Dean and I walked towards the front of the school making small talk.

He walked me to my car and I thanked him.

“Hey, Y/N. Would it be too forward if I asked you to dinner and maybe out for drinks?”

I smiled softly, “No it wouldn’t be. I’d like that very much.”

He took my hand in his, “Great, I’ll meet you at O’Malley’s.”

I nodded and climbed in my car. The whole way there, my heart hammered in my chest.

Arriving at the bar I saw Dean standing leaning against his car. It was a gorgeous, sleek, black 1967 Chevy Impala.

I got out and he pushed off his car smiling.

“Wow, Dean. Your car is beautiful.” He grinned, “Thanks. She’s my baby.”

I nodded and smiled. “Shall we?” He nodded and placed his hand on the small of my back and led me in, opening the door for me.

We took our seats and ordered food and drinks. Dean and I talked for most of the time.

I learned he had a baby brother, Sammy. Who is a lawyer and married with a little boy. He’s never been married, he loves his car, and his parents are still married.

The way his eyes lit up when he talked about his family made my heart melt. He clearly loves his family and they are a priority to him.

I told him about my family and how I lost my mother a few years ago. The pain I saw in his eyes was genuine. He softly touched my hand, “I’m so sorry about your mom. She sounded like a wonderful woman.”

His touch made me smile. As the evening progressed we slipped into comfortable conversation. At one point Dean asked me to dance.

The songs ranged from fast to slow and romantic. His hands gripped my hips tightly as he pulled my body close to his. I rested my head on his chest and I heard the steady beat of his heart.

His smell was intoxicating. Dean lifted my chin and looked in my eyes. His face leaned closer to mine.

I leaned closer and our lips ghosted against each other. When our lips connected every noise around us faded away.

The kiss was soft and then turned needy and passionate. His hands slipped up my back and into my hair, pulling me closer.

When we pulled apart our chests were rising and falling, pulling air into our lungs.

We walked off the dance floor holding hands. Dean looked at the time, “I guess we should head out. Especially since you have that thing tomorrow with Karie and Tiffany.” I nodded but I didn’t want the night to end.

We walked towards our cars and he placed a soft kiss on my lips again. “I had a really great time tonight with you.” “I did too, Dean. I’d like to see you again if you want.”

Dean stepped closer, “I’d like that very much. Good night, Y/N.” I smiled and a red hue filled my cheeks, “Good night, Dean.”

One last kiss was shared between us and I climbed in my car. As I drove away all I could think about was how it felt to kiss the PE Teacher.

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[sweatervest-obsessed]

Second Chances Are For Winners - Part 2

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

WC: 2k

TW: Swearing, mentions of blood, mentions of kidnapping, imprisonment, Criminal Minds General list of triggers apply here.

A/N: Howdy babes! I'm back in action (and in therapy!) so the will to write is stronger than ever. I am so excited that this is becoming a mini series since I loved the whole premise I had come up with last year. Pls enjoy part 2!

Part One

Last Week

“We have a White Male in his late thirties, breaking and entering into single women’s homes.” Hotch started, he put his hands in his pockets and continued talking. “ We know he used to be homeless, or transient, because of the manner in which he is gaining access to home.”

 Derek took over. “Pickpocketing. He snags the women’s keys, makes a copy for himself, and then breaks into their houses, condos, apartments.” 

Emily gestured to the board in the front of the room. There were several images, along with a map in front of the officers. “We know this because he leaves the set of keys on the kitchen table, along with the polaroid of the woman he’s kidnapped.” 

Derek spoke up. “He’s targeting women in their late twenties, with high paying jobs. We assume this is due to some kind of grievance where he believes he was wronged, and left him feeling powerless.” 

Hotch nodded at Derek. “Think promotions of jobs, priorities, breakups, divorces—something that would make this man feel as if he is no longer fulfilling the role of the head of the household.” 

 Derek leaned against the desk. “He takes his time with them. We know this because there’s been a body a week for the past three. We are assuming that he has a new victim considering the newest body was found yesterday. And we know that he picks up a body on Monday nights, and dumps them early Friday Mornings.”

“Look through reports from tonight and this morning about anyone missing. Even if it’s just a concerned call about someone not showing up to work, we need to know about it.” Emily held her hands in front of her as she spoke to the group. She gave a brief smile to the officers looking up at her. “Thank you.” 

As the room started to clear out, Derek looked over at Spencer, who was just staring at the board, deep in thought. “Earth to Reid. Hey.” 

Reid snapped out of whatever depths of his mind he was in, and looked up at Morgan. “Sorry, sorry. What.” 

“What? That’s it? Reid you just blanked out of that entire session. What is goin’ on with you man?” 

Spencer shook his head. “Sorry I-I, I’m not really…Sorry. It’s just..”

“Just what.” 

Emily nudged Derek with her elbow. “Be nice.” 

Derek rolled his eyes, and trudged away. 

“I know he didn’t mean anything by it, but I can’t stop thinking about the security cameras. How has he not been seen, anywhere. L-Like, for example, when he goes and makes the copies of the keys, all of the locksmiths in town have cameras everywhere because of safety reasons, right? And-and-and, even if he didn’t go there, and went to a Walmart outside of the city, or something, they all absolutely have cameras that work. So how has this guy not been seen by anyone?” 

Emily nodded while Spencer continued to rant. “And I can’t quite figure out how—” Spencer pushed out of his chair by the window and went up to the board. 

Across the center of one of the whiteboards was a timeline.. 

“It’s such a specific timeline—A-As if he can only operate on those certain days, like he’s limited to Mondays and Fridays, because part of his week is blocked off.”

“Or.” Emily chimed in, following his train of thought. “Something triggers him every weekend, like he sees her…whoever she is, every weekend. Maybe he works in a restaurant, or something.” 

“But why would she go into a restaurant where she knows he is?” 

“To taunt him?” Derek pipes up. “Bring a new man in, once a week, on a first date. Show him how much better she’s doing?” 

“And risk her safety? I don’t think so.” Emily scoffed and turned back to the board. 

Headaches have always been your least favorite part of waking up from being knocked out by chloroform. You had never been knocked out via towel and drug before, but whenever you would watch your favorite crime-related shows, you would think about how god awful that headache must be when you wake up. 

And you were right. It was a fucking bitch. 

Your vision had spots dancing across it as you let out a groan from being conscious for the first time in god knows how long. You were still in your pajamas and weren’t shivering, which meant that wherever you were, was warm enough to keep you alive. 

You tried to move your hands but found that that was over your head, chained to the wall. The chain connecting both of your wrists was pegged into the wall like you were in some old castle during the Medieval Ages. If you weren’t dying of thirst and hunger, you would have found the situation almost comical. 

Once you got used to the complete lack of sunlight, you were able to make out the rest of the room, which was decorated with splatter across the walls and floor. It was obviously not a choice in decor, and more of a mess someone wasn’t willing to clean up. There was an outline of what seemed like bars at the far end of the room, directly across from a small wooden staircase that had been built up against the wall. 

It was a cell. 

You had been stuck in a cell like one of those prisoners in Pirates of the Caribbean, and it was not as silly and fun as Disney World had made it out to be. 

You went to speak, with only a sharp intake of air, and only a cough could come out. Luckily for you, the cough had alerted whoever was upstairs that you were awake, meaning that the silhouette of a man appeared at the top of the stairs when the door opened. 

You were just hop[ping this was one of those stupid melatonin induced dreams where something bad would happen but then you would wake up and suddenly you were safe in bed. As the man’s footsteps echoed louder and louder as they trudged down the stairs, you realized you couldn’t wake up. 

“You’re up. Good.” 

Your back pressed against the wall as you recognized the voice from the man standing at the bars of the cell. 

“What. Y/n hasn’t texted you today?” JJ  elbowed Reid lightly as the two of them were sitting next to each other in the bullpen. 

Reid blinked and looked up at her. “How did you…” 

“You’ve been reading the same page for fifteen minutes. Either you’re really trying to analyze…something, or you haven’t actually read the page and something was bugging you.”

Spencer scoffed but put the file down. 

JJ gave his shoulder a little squeeze. She was about to say something when Garcia walked into the room, eyes wide, carrying a file. “New—we have to…” 

That was all the two agents could pick out of her sentences before Garcia was in Hotch’s office. 

“No rest for the wicked.” Emily called out to the two of them as all three made their way towards the meeting room. 

Eventually the team had all gathered in the conference room and Garcia was setting up the screen. 

“There’s been another body.”

The team sighed and nodded. This killer in DC has been evading them for a whole month now, that they knew of. It was becoming increasingly frustrating since the killer wasn’t rushing, wasn’t speeding up. They were still as meticulous as before. And right on schedule, a new body was discovered. Same markings as before, handcuffs on the wrists, and a quite gruesome death. 

“Still no fingerprints?”  

Garcia sighed and nodded. “Nothing.”

“I just don’t get how someone can be so meticulous, and stick to a schedule, and then….do something like that to a person.”

Spencer sighed and looked at the map Garcia had updated for him. “At least we have a slight geological profile. He’s picking houses all over DC, but then dumping the bodies in West End and Kalorama.”

Spencer pointed to the map. “He’s literally forming a route. Look. The bodies are placed almost like a trail. This newest body just connects the rest.” 

“He’s gearing up to someone. And whoever it is probably lives and works….” Spencer looked over at Garcia. 

Garcia’s eyes widened. “Oh. Oh no. No no no no.” 

“What?” Emily looked between the two before looking over at Derek. 

“Spit it out baby girl, what’s going on.” 

“Uh…Y/n’s firm is in the West End, and she lives like a ten minute walk away in Kalorama…” She whispered. 

The whole team shifted their gaze to Spencer, who was frantically looking at all of the information over and over on the board, trying to find anything. 

“Just because she hasn’t texted you doesn;’t mean that she is the next victim of our killer guys, I mean come on. What are the odds of that.” Derek tried to talk Spencer out of whatever he had just induced for himself. 

Spencer shook his head and turned towards the team. “Who always has a strict schedule that they have to follow, even if it’s against their wishes. Court-mandated.” 

Derek was stunned into silence at the fact that Reid didn’t even bother giving him a pity statistic. 

Hotch spoke up. “She’s a lawyer right?” 

Spencer nodded. The team was not following where they were going with this. 

“Have any of her clients, or opposing councils given her grief recently? That you know of?” 

Spencer was about to shake his head but then remembered what you had told him last night. “S-She has this, uh, client, that doesn’t like the schedule he was ordered to by the court. And hasn’t left her alone now...for weeks…blowing up her phone…she told me about him last night, complaining that he hasn’t stopped calling her work phone and somehow even got her personal number…” 

“So you talked to her last night.” Derek crossed his arms. 

“She texted me saying she made it home b-because she fell asleep at her office and walked home…at two in the morning...” 

Hotch nodded and stood up. “We’re going to head down to the main station, and bring all new information with us. Clear?”

“I already sent it over to them electronically sir.” Garcia piped up. 

Hotch nodded. Everyone exited the room, but Hotch and Reid stayed back. When the last person had left, Hotch closed the door and looked at Reid. 

“I’m not going to tell you to sit this out. I know you, and I’d rather have you focused on the task at hand with us than trying to do your own investigating.You have emotional stakes in this Reid. And you know how that clouds judgment. Every single decision you make, you run by me. Clear?” 

Reid set his jaw and exhaled, but agreed to Hotch’s request. There would be more room for arguing when you were found safe and sound. 

Reid’s silence continued throughout the next twenty minutes and then in the car on the way to the station as well. Every single one of the agents could tell this case was going to be a lot more painful than initially believed. 

And Spencer was freaking the fuck out. All he could do was sit and stare out the window as the building passed, a sinking feeling in his gut that wherever you were, it wasn’t pretty. He just didn’t understand how he failed to miss the literal trail of bodies the killer had been leaving for you. Literal warning signs in front of you. And he let you walk home alone last night. 

It was his fault. He should have known better. 

Spencer had just found you again—he couldn’t stand to lose you a second time. 

_____________________________________________________________

Next Part

Also! Tags! It's so crazy to me that y'all actually want to be tagged in my work so I am seriously so grateful. <3

@sadroses98 @teddy-275 @teddy-275 @donttrustlove @donttrustlove

[yenonnoff]

TEACH ME HOW TO LOVE! 34. to the miya's

word count: 1.9k YAY!!

“oh? come in, you’re finally here,” someone greeted you in front of Onigiri Miya. 

you had been chatting with atsumu before approaching the restaurant. apparently, he wanted to pick you up and arrive there with you; the gesture made your stomach churn with warmth. 

“you must be atsumu’s brother!” you stepped closer until the lights above the shop illuminated your presence. atsumu followed behind you, stepping into the light to see osamu’s amused face clearer. 

“nope, wrong person. he’s just the garbage boy,” your co-star sneered. 

osamu ignored him, smiling at you knowingly. “well, what do you think? don’t we look the same?” 

“i would hope you do,” you laughed. “otherwise, atsumu would’ve scammed me.” 

“i’ve always been told i’m the better looking one. don’t you agree?” the darker haired twin questioned playfully.

his tease made atsumu quirk a brow. in one swift motion, a hand laced around yours, leading you towards the shop’s entrance. it happened so suddenly that you didn’t even have a chance to answer osamu’s question. your words were hopelessly caught in your throat. 

as you and atsumu shuffled in (notably still holding hands), you took in the homey atmosphere of the restaurant. wooden chairs and tables huddled near each other as an appealing aroma swirled around the space; it awoke your stomach, rattling your cravings. osamu followed in shortly, pausing to lock the doors. 

you and atsumu approached the counter seating. after you reside next to two other figures, atsumu lets go of your hand, allowing your heart rate some mercy and a chance to calm down.

“woah! sakusa?!” you nearly jumped after turning to your left. there he was: your previous, forthright co-star who you worked with on “vengeance”. how long has it been since you’ve last seen each other? when you looked further behind him, you were caught starstruck with another surprise: suna rintarou in the flesh. overridden with shock, you nearly bumped your shoulder against atsumu sitting on your right. 

“hey, y/n. woah, you look better in person,” suna said, the corner of his lips curling upwards. “it’s a compliment.” 

you were still trying to comprehend the sight, blinking rapidly with astonishment. sure you knew you’d be meeting them, but the whole situation was still making you speechless. you respond anyway, smiling at his words. “thank you. i’ve been listening to your new singles, you really outdid yourself with this one.”

“oh? then, can we get each other’s autographs before we leave?”

you nodded, eyes glowing with admiration. unbeknownst to you, atsumu was making a face and mouthing something to suna irritatedly. you heard osamu stifle a chuckle. after locking the doors, he hurried behind the counters to set up his cooking equipment. 

“hi, y/n,” sakusa said. he’d been sitting awkwardly still while you and suna were talking. he wasn’t sure if he should lean back to help you two converse or not. in the end, he didn’t do anything. 

“it’s been a while,” you beamed. “i watched your latest film by the way. your acting still blows me away every time.” 

“yes, it has been. and thank you, i also heard about the ruckus at the movie theater.”

you felt atsumu lean closer towards you and sakusa, whispering loudly, “dude!”

“it’s fine,” you reassured him. “i’m over that and i’m used to sakusa’s straightforwardness.” 

somehow—somewhere, atsumu knew this might’ve been a mistake. he continued to sulk, propping an elbow on the wooden counter and resting the side of his jaw on his palm. 

sakusa continued, ignoring his friend’s pouty expression. “getting recognized like that just means you’re becoming more famous, y/n. it shows ur success.” 

the last thing you were expecting from this strange meetup was sakusa complimenting you. “thank you. my efforts are being recognized,” you laughed. “i won’t stop here, though. i’ll continue to work harder. i don’t want anything to get in the way of me becoming a better actress.” truthfully, you were just caught up in the moment; words were hastily spilling out, but you genuinely meant them. 

for a moment, the atmosphere shifted and paused. you were conversing with sakusa, but the others were still listening in. if sakusa noticed the awkward tension at all, he didn’t show it, only continuing to say, “that’s a good mindset.” 

then, everything resumed when osamu approached the counter with a full plate of onigiri. he leaned against the counter, smiling and watching as the four of you dug in. this continued for a while: you’d finish a plate then wait for osamu to work on the next batch of his new recipes. there’d be more pointless conversations filled with TMI; some gossip here and there; and even embarrassing stories regarding mostly of atsumu’s high school antics. you thought they were cute, but your co-star seem to think otherwise. 

“huh? games? you guys wanna play?” osamu asked from the sink. he was washing the plates while the four of you were still chatting. seriously, there were a million things you guys could talk about. 

atsumu turned towards his brother. “you have some upstairs, don’t you? here,” atsumu stood up from his stool, flashing you a quick smile and patting your shoulder before saying, “i’ll go check real quick.” 

then, he was gone—for a long time. you hadn’t realized it, but you were counting every minute that he was away. his absence was piercing, saliently clear. you were fine being alone with his friends, but there was more to it. being with atsumu, having him right next to you was another kind of reassurance you’d never experienced before. in a way, you wouldn’t mind anything if he was there by your side. 

“so, where’s atsumu?” suna asked, looking around for the blond actor. 

“is he still looking for the games? it shouldn’t be taking this long,” sakusa chimed in. 

you saw osamu grimace, trying to hold himself back from facepalming himself. “this guy…” he murmured with a sigh. it looked as though he knew something that you didn’t. “i actually moved some stuff around recently, so everything’s in a new place now. uh, i should go check up on him.” 

“sure,” suna said. “we’ll stay here then.” 

osamu ducked under the counter, pulling out a thick photo album. he smiled with satisfaction. “here. while you wait, you might as well check these out. was gonna show you these and make fun of ‘tsumu, but since he isn’t here, it’s the perfect opportunity, right?” 

removing his apron, osamu placed them on the counter. he left shortly after, disappearing behind the curtains concealing a set of stairs. you were so distracted watching him leave that you didn't even notice suna getting up and taking atsumu’s seat. he pushed the photo album towards you, and suddenly, you were sandwiched between sakusa and suna. 

“what are you doing with that phone?” sakusa asked, staring at the singer’s amused smile. 

“taking pictures, obviously. it’ll be good blackmail—you should do it too, y/n.” 

“hey,” osamu called from behind, stepping into his living room. 

atsumu, crouched on the carpet by a shelf, turned around to stare at osamu. “oh, were you waiting for me?” 

“yup, the others were getting worried,” he replied, plopping down on his couch listlessly. “so? why are you moping?” 

an annoyed wrinkle formed between atsumu’s eyebrows. “not moping. i was gonna come down but then i saw these CDs on your shelf. didn’t know you still had them.”

osamu smiled. “duh, you were the one who bought them for me when you got your first gig. i’d be a jerk if i threw them out.” 

“you’re always a dick, though.” 

“so you weren’t thinking about y/n and moping about then?” 

“who knows,” the blond mumbled. 

it was painfully silent until osamu facepalmed himself and grumbled. “look. stop beating yourself up honestly. i saw how she acted around you. y’know? your little hand holding? if she didn’t like you, wouldn’t she have—i don’t know—pulled away? but she didn’t and you were the one who pulled away instead.” 

“you’re saying she likes me? the feeling’s mutual?” 

“obviously. who would want to spend their time off with you anyway?” 

“hey!” atsumu frowned. “rude jerk. are you a fortune teller or something? how would you know?”

“i don’t need to see the future to know, dummy. i’m starting to think you like being hopeless because the answer's right in front of you. whether or not she knows it, her actions completely give her away. if you continue spending time together, she’ll eventually realize her feelings.”

atsumu dropped to the ground, supporting his weight with his hands on the carpet. he sighed heavily, “there’s still that thing she said, though.”

“what? about not wanting anything to get in the way of her business or something?” 

atsumu faced the wooden shelf, his eyes downcasted. he hadn’t been able to shake those words off of his mind. if that was truly what you wanted, there was nothing to compromise. the two of you couldn’t be together without something possibly obstructing your dream. 

“god! the two of you are so stubborn. why not? why can’t you just be together?!” osamu blared, shooting up from his spot on the couch.

“why are you getting worked up?! i’m the one dealing with this after all!” 

“i should’ve eaten you in the womb.”

“funny, because i was just thinking the same thing,” atsumu scoffed. “look, y/n and i can’t be in a relationship without it potentially holding her back. well, you wouldn’t understand, you’ve never been in one.”

“and yet here i am: giving relationship advice to a persistent brat,” osamu rolled his eyes. 

atsumu groaned, “even when i was with emma, we still had to make compromises to make the relationship work. y’know, schedule conflicts…different priorities. y/n doesn’t need that right now. she doesn’t need me right now.” at this point, he wasn’t sure if those words were for his brother or himself. maybe both. maybe just one, and it was the latter. 

“you want to respect whatever she wants.”

“exactly,” atsumu said with firm hands pressed against his eyes. even when he only saw darkness, his mind immediately conjured an image of you; and somehow, that pained him more than anything. atsumu let his hands drop, his vision clearing up. anymore and he would’ve pictured the two of you being something more. being in a relationship, him being able to love you. 

“so? what now?”

“nothing, i guess. i won’t do anything so everything will be over when filming is done.” 

osamu didn’t respond. he only stared at his twin brother. he never thought atsumu would fall in love again after the whole ordeal with emma. he thought his brother had bore his defenses and swallowed his feelings. who knew you would make him fall deeper? make him come back to his senses—to his usual, sloven self again? 

osamu had you to thank, and the world to hate. his brother was about to get heartbroken again, and there was nothing he could do about it. 

atsumu stood up, dusting his pants and grabbing the deck of cards on the top shelf. before he headed downstairs, though, atsumu braced himself. he took deep breaths and slapped his cheeks a couple times until they turned red. it was silly, but if he didn’t prepare himself—if he saw you laughing and getting along with his friends, atsumu would’ve gone back on his word. he wanted you, and you were cruel for making him want you even more. 

osamu approached his brother, raising a puzzled brow. “what are you—”

“okay! i’m ready, let’s head down. we’re wasting too much time.”

“that was all you, dummy.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever. hurry! i’ll race you down there.”

masterlist ⌒☆ previous ⌒☆ next

fun facts:

atsumu didn't know if he wanted to embarrass y/n by telling her she'd been pranked/tricked or not. he didn't want to, so he went along for her.

sakusa and suna arrived early! right before y/n and atsumu.

y/n and suna exchanged autographs before they left. she was really happy on the way home but atsumu didn't know what was so exciting about his friend's wobbly autograph. (he's salty and stubborn, but he still took you home).

y/n didn't take any pictures for blackmail. only the ones she thought were exceptionally cute. the three of them had no idea who was who though, so they just prayed and guessed.

osamu really wants to challenge y/n to mario kart. he wants to know how good she is to have beaten his twin brother. family game night! (+ suna and sakusa).

TEACH ME HOW TO LOVE! ｡ｏ♡ an atsumu miya smau

synopsis: when y/n l/n, a rising actress, decides to star in a romance film that could make or break her career, she’s unable to showcase her skills, revealing her inexperience within the romance department instead. worst of all, atsumu miya, her co-star and the main lead’s love interest, seems to hate her guts! with absolutely, unbearably zero chemistry between the two, an idea was proposed: spend time with one another in the upcoming weeks. will y/n be able to ignore her professionalism and listen to her heart? and will she, a clueless romantic, be able to pick up on the signs her co-star is sending her?

a/n: i think osamu is much more attractive he's my favorite twin... funny how i have a whole smau abt atsumu though...

taglist is open! dm or ask to be a part of it! (those bolded were unable to be tagged)

(1/2) ⌒☆ @kqbukimono @empathum @clyver @chosoluv @oceansfloor @sunarots @marga-j @rukia-uchiha-98 @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @rintarousgirl @ast4rg1rl l @seiamor @saiewithakatana @usermins @literally-a-ferret @terrarain @iuspired @haruskatana @wolffmaiden @ris-krispie @vellichxrr6782 @animenaces-world @reignsaway @emii4evr @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @yuminako @tojirin @v3nusplanetofluv @vyvixen @secondary-character-25 @tenjikusstuff4 @444choso @mylahrins @deimmortales99 @hisfuture @staywhelmed8801 @dl-yum @nessaasstuff @milesmoralesluvs @101tsumu @ryeyeyer @cherrypieyourface @azharyy @mimi3lover @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @dazball @whykirbo @r0seandth0rns @localgaytrainwreck @miyamoratsumuu @zephestia @luvvmae @seeyapizzazz

[afewproblems]

Difficult Days - Part Seven

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six or Read on AO3

The day that Henry waltzes back into Shawn’s life starts out normal enough. 

It’s a Tuesday. The sun is out, the local smoothie place on the corner of 118th has finally brought back its mango tango tropical blend --containing absolutely mouth tingling amounts of pineapple, and Gus even manages to get the cute smoothie girls number while they wait for their drinks. 

“You hear about Pluto? That's messed up,” Gus says, leaning against the counter as he hands her a ten. Her head tilts slightly, eyebrow raised, her sharp green eyes sweep over Gus as a smile blooms over her freckled face. 

Oh shit, she's going to eat him alive.

“I hadn't, you'll have to tell me sometime,” the cashier says with a wink that pulls a strangled laugh out of his best friend.

They leave with their drinks, Gus's cup adorned with a sharpie phone number and a smiley face across the plastic. The bounce in Gus’s step makes Shawn grin as he watches him read the number again and again.

“Can an area code be cute?” Gus asks as they turn down the street to the department, passing uniformed officers leaving for patrol.

“Depends on the number of eights, also fours, very sexy numbers Gus,” Shawn says sagely, fighting to keep his face neutral as Gus glares openly at him.

“Please,” Gus huffs as they climb the stone steps up to the precinct, “you are just jealous that my Pluto line pulled”.

One of the rookies, officer Miller? Mayer? Some kind of M name, Shawn thinks as the officer stops to hold the door for the pair of them to enter the building. 

The rookie flashes Shawn a smile as he waves them in and Shawn can't help but smile back. Maybe Gus wouldn't be the only one getting a number today.

“It was bound to happen Gus,” Shawn insists as they turn down the hall towards the bullpen, “the intersection of women that are single, into astrology, and a little crazy is small but you were eventually gonna find it buddy”.

Gus sputters around the straw of his smoothie, “there is a huge difference between astrology and astronomy Shawn--”

“Are we talking horoscopes?” Juliet asks with a curious smile as she falls into step beside them, carrying a file folder and a mug of coffee in the other hand as they make their way to the desks. Shawn grins as Gus swallows nervously. 

He likes Juliet.

She's sincere and chipper but there's an edge to her that Shawn can't quite pinpoint where the line is. It also helps that she has enough patience to balance out her partner who has not been subtle about his distaste for Shawn.

Plus, Gus is completely smitten with her.

Juliet is probably the only woman who has laughed at, objectively, every single one of Gus's jokes since they started working together --which is a feat in and of itself. Shawn watches as Gus lifts his hand to rub at the back of his neck, stammering through the account of his interaction at the smoothie place with the counter girl.

Shawn sees the way Juliet deflates slightly, her eyes darting between Gus and the number on the smoothie cup. He shakes his head at the open display of pining. 

It would almost be amusing if Shawn didn't have to hear about how amazing, and funny, and cute, and scary Juliet is every other night from Gus and why someone like her could never go for someone like him --which is bullshit.

Anyone would be lucky to have someone like Gus on their team, and Shawn will champion that argument until the day he dies. 

Besides, if he isn't mistaken, Juliet agrees with his sentiment.

“It just seems so disrespectful to remove its status as a planet after all this time,” Gus sighs, trailing off from his planetary rant.

Juliet nods, “not just to Pluto but to all of us that had to repeat ‘Men Very Easily Make Jugs Serve Useful Needs, Perhaps,’ and not have all the boys in class giggle at the word ‘Jugs’”.

“You get it,” Gus exclaims, elbowing Shawn as he tries in vain to stifle a snicker.

It's not Shawn’s fault that ‘Jugs’ is comedy gold, he doesn't make the rules.

Shawn lets his attention wander from the pair slightly, taking in the neat stacks of paperwork on Juliet’s and Lassiter’s desks, wondering just what cases he might be able to snoop on in preparation for his psychic showcase later, and speaking of the Head Detective it’s a little odd that he isn't in yet. 

Shawn looks at the clock on the wall, it’s nearly 9:30, well past when good ol’ Lassie normally arrives. 

“Boy this place hasn't changed a bit”.

Shawn stills as he registers the voice from across the bullpen.

Oh no.

No, no, no, he's been so fucking careful.

“How long are you sticking around for Detective?” Lassiter's voice floats across the space behind them, “I can show you the new evidence room if you have time?” 

Shawn slowly turns, holding his breath, to see Lassiter walking and talking, hitching his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the evidence room, with Henry Spencer.

Fuck.

Henry looks very nearly the same, maybe a little thinner than he was the day he left Shawn at the station, definitely more grey and less hair than there had been. The collar on his polo is warped slightly, as though it had been left to air dry on a rack, and the brown leather shoes he's wearing are dull, scuffed at the sides. 

The Henry Spencer who diligently ironed his clothes and shined his shoes every day has seemingly evaporated in the last ten years, replaced with some laid-back facsimile.

Shawn had heard that Henry had retired from Gus, who had heard it from his mother, around the same time that he was supposed to have left Santa Barbara.

Shawn looks closer, taking in the same cool blue eyes, piercing and sharp as he surveys the precinct. 

His dad must just miss his old haunt, the station that was his second home for nearly forty years, that has to be it. 

Henry isn't here for Shawn, he can't be.

But…there was that god damn article he and Gus were mentioned in after the McCallum case. 

Shit.

Shawn closes his eyes and breathes in to try and slow the icy panic sliding up his spine, like he's been dropped off the edge of the pier in January.

He stills again as Henry responds to the Detective, clapping him on the arm with a relaxed grin.

“Nah, I'm in and out Lassiter, just checking in with the old guard on our poker night, you know how it is”. 

Shawn slowly ducks himself behind Gus, as Henry shifts his stance to the Chief's closed office door.

He hasn't seen Henry since that awful night ten years ago, and the thought of seeing his dad here now, of being exposed as a fraud, a liar, a--

Shawn shuts his eyes, and shakes his head as though to erase the thought.

He doesn't need Henry ruining this for him, not when things are finally, finally working for once. He needs to get out of here.

“Gus,” Shawn hisses sharply, interrupting his friend mid sentence, he tucks his head further down, keeping himself angled away from where Henry and Lassiter are still talking. 

Palling around like old chums, god of course they are. Why wouldn't Henry love someone like Lassiter, the complete opposite end of the spectrum where Shawn is concerned. 

“Shawn what?” Gus tries but Shawn flaps both hands out, cutting him off again. 

Juliet frowns at the display, though there is a hint of concern in her gaze as her eyes follow the direction from which he is obviously hiding, landing on Lassiter who is still chatting with his dad.

Everything feels off balance, like he missed a step on the stairs but then the rest of them have given way to let him drop.

“Gus, Henry is here and I need to not be,” Shawn says lowly, “I need a distraction or a miracle, preferably both if you can swing it”.

“Shawn--”

“What kind of distraction?”

Juliet and Gus say at the same time and, hell yes, Shawn knew he liked her for a reason.

“And with zero rehearsal? I am so proud of you two,” Shawn whispers to them, ignoring the way his heart is threatening to jack hammer its way out of his chest.

He clears his throat roughly, swallowing once, “I just need something big enough to get me into the kitchen without being seen?” 

“On it,” Juliet affirms, taking a step towards her desk to drop off the file from one hand, while the coffee cup remains in the other.

She takes a small step away before pausing and turning back to the pair of them, “hold on, this isn't for anything illegal or to do with a case is it?” she asks warily, glancing between Shawn and Gus.

“No,” Gus and Shawn say at the same time.

Juliet nods once and takes off towards Lassiter and Henry with long determined strides.

“Wow,” Gus sighs, hearts in his eyes and Shawn shakes his head at the sight.

God these two.

He breathes out, long and slow, before startling slightly at the commotion behind them. Shawn hazards a glance at Juliet to find her profusely apologizing to Henry for the large brown coffee stain all over his polo while Lassiter watches with a stunned expression on his rapidly reddening face. 

Ho-ly shit, if Gus doesn't lock this girl down, Shawn might have to. They'll have a summer wedding, Shawn thinks a little hysterically as he takes the opportunity to bolt, speed walking to the department kitchen, Gus hot on his heels.

They round the corner out of the bullpen and head down the hall towards the staff kitchen, nearly crashing into Buzz on their way through the narrow door.

“Sorry man,” Gus winces as Buzz just manages to stop coffee from flowing over the side of the cup in his hand as he makes way for them.

“All good, is Shawn okay?” Buzz asks, concern in his voice and expression as he peers back into the kitchen.

Shawn says nothing, biting the inside of his cheek until he tastes copper on his tongue. He breathes out again, long and slow, before taking a short sharp breath in, just like Mrs. Guster taught him. 

“He's fine,” Gus says quickly, “I could smell the fresh pot from the pen so we wanted to jump on that before anyone else”.

Buzz tilts his head at Gus quizzically, “oh that stuff’s old actually, probably from the shift change I think”.

“And that's what…you're drinking?” Gus says slowly, staring at the young officer who beams at the pair of them.

“I know it's not everyone's taste but I love the last cup,” Buzz smiles before taking a long sip from the chipped mug in his hand, “not too hot, plenty bitter and strong, it's great.”

Shawn breathes out a laugh this time as his heart rate finally begins to slow to a more normal pace.

“We'll take your word for it,” Shawn says, rubbing his hand through his hair before reaching for the electric kettle next to the empty coffee pot. It's full of water still, and based on the fresh droplets on the counter, someone filled it recently.

“Glad you're okay Shawn, you'll have to head back soon, apparently we have a visitor that Detective Lassiter is showing around--”

“Thanks Buzz, we'll try,” Gus interrupts smoothly, he's smiling but it's just a little too wide.

Shawn flicks the switch on for the kettle and turns to slump against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest.

Buzz shrugs and gives them a little salute with his mug before turning on his heel to head back to his desk. 

Gus waits a beat before whirling around to Shawn, eyes wide, “why the hell is Henry here?” 

“Why do dolphins tease pufferfish Gus?”

“Because they like to get high?”

“Because they do whatever the hell they want and how should I know how a dolphin thinks,” Shawn bites out as the kettle bubbles and spits behind him.

“I thought he moved away,” Shawn says eventually, chewing on the corner of his lip, “guess he came back”.

Gus grimaces, peeking around the corner of the kitchen for a moment before turning back to Shawn.

“Make me a cup too,” he sighs, reaching a hand up to pinch into his eyes, “you're gonna owe Juliet big time for this, I don't think I've ever seen Lassiter turn that shade of red before”.

“Hey, he should be grateful she spilled on the right asshole,” Shawn mutters as the kettle clicks off automatically. He turns around and reaches for the overhead cupboards to grab two mugs from the shelf.

“Well, your vocabulary hasn't changed much, has it kid?”

Shawn nearly drops both mugs at the sound of his father's voice behind him and the quiet curse Gus blurts out.

Shawn doesn't turn around, keeping his shoulders level as he sets the mugs down and reaches for a random box of tea bags on the counter, looks like Gus will have to settle for green tea this time as much as he hates it. 

“You’d be surprised,” Shawn manages after a long beat of strained silence.

Henry hums, “What, you're not gonna say hello to your old man?”

Shawn bristles, hating the way he can feel his ears begin to heat. He grips the counter to halt the furious tremor in one hand while the other crushes a still wrapped tea bag.

“Detective Spencer did you find--”

Oh good. Lassie is here now too, Shawn thinks viciously.

“I know where the kitchen is Lassiter,” Henry sighs, “I did work here after all”.

“Mr. Spencer,” Gus says, cutting through the strange tension that has begun to spread through the little kitchen, “it's been a while”.

“Burton, yeah it has, how's your mother?”

“My mother?” Gus repeats, confusion in his voice, “she's uh, she's great--”

“I'll bet,” Henry interrupts, “she's certainly something your mother, definitely had a lot to say to me over the years, that's for sure”.

Shawn falters slightly, has Henry been keeping tabs on him this whole time though Mrs. Guster? 

He swallows roughly, still facing the cupboard. Shawn tries to unclench his fist but it won't budge, the paper around the teabag has grown damp now from the sweat on his hand and he can feel the cheap ink from the label rubbing into his palm.

Lassiter clears his throat awkwardly, “uh, Detective, Sargent Bart is ready if you still wanted to meet”.

Henry sighs behind him, Shawn can hear the shift in his stance as he turns back to Gus.

“Well, at least one of you is polite, but you always were a good kid Burton”.

Shawn feels his hackles raise at the same time Lassiter clears his throat again.

“Fine,” Henry says in a clipped, disappointed voice, “Shawn, if you want to talk, you know where to find me”. 

Shawn hears Henry walk away, his shoes scuffing against the floor heading further and further down the hall, and let's his head slowly fall until it connects with the cupboard. 

He lifts his head, just enough to drop it again, connecting with the cupboard door with a muffled thunk before he straightens up, shakes out his shoulders and finally drops the unusable teabag on the counter.

“Guster, what's got your partner so worked up, is being confronted with a real detective just that upsetting?” Lassiter asks as Shawn finally turns around. 

He's still standing next to Gus, his blue eyes tracing over Shawn as though scanning him, smirking slightly.

“Upsetting?” Shawn laughs, but it sounds fake, hollow, “Lassie, Lassie, Lassie, I'm touched you think I'm capable of that kind of emotional intelligence, it’s, well, it's an honour Detective”.

Gus sighs, shaking his head, crossing his arms over his chest as Lassiter rolls his eyes with a huff.

“Then what the hell is your problem, he's your dad isn't he?

“Lassiter--” Gus tries but Shawn beats him to it.

“You really don't remember huh?” Shawn says incredulously, “the first night we met?”

Lassiter tilts his head, blue eyes narrow as he stares at Shawn, “the first? Spencer, that was a few weeks ago?”

Right. 

Shawn had been pretty certain that the Detective didn't remember being there the night Shawn was arrested, and this just confirmed the theory.

He's pretty sure Vick remembers just based on the look in her eyes when she reminded Shawn she had no problem with booking him if he were lying about the psychic thing, she'd processed him before and would do it again to protect the department.

But, it looks like she hasn’t said much of anything to the other Detectives, not about Henry dropping him off or the call he had made to the Gusters while standing behind him, most certainly eavesdropping.

Which should be a relief.

It's not like he’s enthusiastic about people knowing the details of that awful night.

A brief flash of Lassiter’s expression, pained and sympathetic, as he walks up to Shawn in the hallway to ask if he's okay, flashes once before dissipating.

It's…it's good he doesn't remember. 

He doesn't need Lassiter looking at him with anything other than irritation or anger in his very, very, blue eyes--

No. 

That is one thought he'd rather not examine too closely --especially not now with Lassie standing in front of him with his annoyingly observant glare.

Shawn sighs sharply, lifting his hand to pinch his nose before dropping it limply at his side.

“You know what, why don't you run along Lassie, I'm sure there's a boy stuck in a well somewhere that would love your help”. 

Lassiter blinks once, twice, Shawn can see the cogs turning in his head as he moves away from the counter, making his way past the Detective. 

It's the same jab he'd used over ten years ago.

Why the fuck did he say that? 

Shawn halts as he feels Lassiter grab his arm loosely at the elbow, but doesn't turn around.

“Better yet,” Shawn says loudly, the words come out smoothly but at a higher pitch than normal, and Shawn can feel both Gus and Lassiter staring at him.

“Shawn--” Gus tries but Shawn starts moving, pulling his arm from Lassiter's hand with a quick tug.

“You could continue sniffing around Henry,” Shawn calls over his shoulder, “he never wanted a pet when I was growing up but I think he'll just love you”.

He moves a little quicker down the hallway before veering right into another hall.

There are footsteps behind Shawn keeping pace. He steals a quick glance behind him, breathing out a bark of laughter as he meets Gus's harried glare.

“I can't believe you,” Gus hisses as they speed walk their way to the start of the row of individual offices, “I can't believe he didn't murder you right then and there, it's not like you wouldn't have deserved it”.

“I resent that baseless accusation,” Shawn huffs as he continues walking.

“You called him a dog twice--”

“That's the third time technically,” he admits lightly, ignoring the way Gus curses under his breath as they finally reach the foyer.

“Gus, it's fine, we'll leave it for a few days, let Lassie cool down,” Shawn huffs as they pass several uniformed officers heading back into the station.

Maybe if they wait long enough what he had inadvertently let slip to Lassiter will have blown over and Henry will have gotten the hint that Shawn has no interest in speaking to him.

“We wait till they call us, ya know?” He says as they push open the heavy entrance door and the hot afternoon sun hits their faces.

“I'm sure it's already forgotten by now”.

Part Eight Up Now

Tag List: @adaed5 @drakkywolf @newgrangespirals @riverofrainbows @steddierthings @eriquin @newgrangespirals

[a-writing-otter]

WIP Wedneday

“Scoot over! Scoot over! I wanna see!”

Yuuri grunts as he takes an elbow to the side, flailing nearly off of the bed as Phichit weasels on up onto the bed with him.

“Okay, am I not allowed to talk to him by myself?”

“No.”

And, yeah, alright, Yuuri should have expected that.

It’s been four months since Yuuri’s trip to Las Vegas, four months since Champions on Ice, and, more importantly, four months since he has a middle-of-the-night shotgun wedding to International Figure Skating’s darling, Viktor Nikiforov.

At the time, Yuuri had immediately offered to annul it (why the hell would someone like Viktor want to marry someone like him?), but Viktor had merely smiled at him and told him he’d rather not.

Now it was Skype calls every few days, constant texting, and two very, very nice care packages as they go through the clumsy work of working backwards from “married” to, well, certainly friends, to start with.

Yuuri feels like he’s the only one perturbed by this whole thing sometimes given the fact that Phichit has run away with the idea of his best friend being married, only lamenting that he didn’t get the chance to give a best man speech (“You should have called me at the church!” “Phi, I could barely write my name let alone work my phone.”) and Viktor is messaging Yuuri constantly with idle conversation bordering from friendly to salacious in a single line.

He has pointedly not shown Phichit those messages.

The laptop rings and Yuuri throws his weight back against Phichit so he’s taking up most of the screen before clicking the ‘accept’ button. There’s a bit of fumbling around on the other side of the screen before it comes into clear-ish view and Viktor is there in his fuzzy, post-practice flushed glory.

“Yuura!” He cries like he they didn’t just talk two nights ago. It doesn’t stop Yuuri from smiling though and even flushing a bit when Viktor starts blowing kisses at the screen.

“Hi, Vicchan.”

Viktor beams at Yuuri for a moment, just staring like he can’t get enough before his eyes slide slightly to the side and his face lights up again.

“Oh! Oh, is this Phichit?! Hi, Phichit!”

Phichit shuffles around so he’s koalaing around Yuuri’s back, arms over his shoulders and head beside his.

“Hi, Viktor! Yuuri’s been so mean keeping you to himself!”

“Mm, well, you know Yuura gets protective.” Yuuri, in spite of that flushes and frowns.

“You’ve already monopolized my video calls with my mom, can I have Viktor?” Yuuri asks, trying to get Phichit off of him to no avail.

Phichit leans closer and it forces Yuuri to have to bend over, Phichit putting his hand to his mouth in an exaggerated stage whisper.

“He’s just mad I’m his mom’s favorite son.”

“Oh, you’ve chatted with Mrs. Katsuki?! Yuura, why won’t you let me talk to her?!”

Yuuri rubs at his temple with his free hand, throwing Phichit a look.

“I want to be present the first time you talk to her, I don’t want to just give her your number.”

And, to be fair, it’s also because she doesn’t yet know that Viktor and Yuuri are married, none of his family does. He didn’t know how he was supposed to broach the conversation of “Hi, I got married” and “Hi, it was drunk in Las Vegas” and also “Hi, I married my celebrity crush.” If Phichit was heartbroken about not being at Yuuri’s wedding, that’s nothing to the guilt that Yuuri’s going to feel when his mother finds out she didn’t even know about the wedding.

“I can behave myself. Around her, at least.” Viktor winks, or at least Yuuri thinks he winks, the video lags for a moment.

“You’ve never behaved once in your life.” They’ve only been talking for four months, but Yuuri knows that. Still, he can’t help his own smile when Viktor sticks his tongue out at him. This back and forth banter has gotten a little easier, Yuuri doesn’t puff up like a wet cat whenever Viktor teases him now and even Yuuri can get out a little teasing, especially when it makes Viktor Nikiforov a little bashful.

“Like you’re one to talk,” Phichit accuses, pinching Yuuri’s cheek before turning to the screen. “It’s a shame you didn’t see it in Las Vegas, Yuuri gets so sexual when he’s wasted. I’m surprised he didn’t try to (ave his way with you in a—“

“Okay, okay!” Yuuri sits up fast enough that it knocks Phichit off of his back and onto the bed. “Group video call time is over!”

Both Phichit and Viktor whine in the same moment as Yuuri reaches over Phichit to grab his headphones.

“Oh, come on! I wasn’t going to tell him about the—“

“You’re not telling him anything!”

“No, but I want to know about my husband!”

Yuuri puts the headphones on around his neck, plugging it into the laptop.

“Don’t you have an English paper to write?” Yuuri asks, waving Phichit off.

“Oh, what? So when you shirk off your physics homework to talk to your boyfriend, it’s acceptable, but when I take a break from my essay to talk to him, it’s not?”

Yuuri gives a sharp nod of his head as he picks up his headphones.

“He’s my husband, so yes.”

[mushiewrites]

(I'm about to kill you here Mushie) I just realized, no one has ever written about this position. Let's use snf as an example (for Sap's thunder thighs)

Sapnap chilling on the couch until George decides to be annoying and sits between his legs on the floor, constantly jostling his comfortable position, talking through the whole movie, tugging his leg hair. Sapnap eventually just leans forward and snatches George’s tiny wrists, pulls them out so he's T posing in a way and sets his legs over his biceps. When he releases George’s wrists, the weight of his legs pressing his keeps his arms pinned out, he can't even reach past his thighs with his bent elbows. Sapnap just takes out his annoyance slowly and methodically, working all of George’s tickle spots in just the way he knows how, to drive George crazy, even worse for him is he's so close to grabbing him but he can only brush his fingers against his wrists

first off. i am so so sooooo sorry im so late on this (i know you dont care but IM SORRY ANYWAY)

second. i adore the trope of a lee almost being able to stop the ler, but stopping just short of it. it's so incredibly cruel for absolutely no reason. its perfect

….anyway, lets get into it

we all know how much of a little shit george is - he's a natural brat, he just cant help it! its not his fault he was born like this! but regardless, there are people who take it better than others. dream and sapnap being the perfect example. i mean, dont get me wrong; dream absolutely gets annoyed by george, but hes just so fond of him that he normally just lets it slide

but sapnap? absolutely not.

the day he learns how ticklish george is is the best day of sapnap's life. he uses it for everything; to get george to give in to whatever sapnap wants, to cheer george up when hes grumpy, to punish george when hes annoying. and boy is george annoying

so its no surprise (even though it always is to george somehow) when sapnap suddenly growls out a quiet "that's it" from between his clenched teeth before grabbing george's wrists, pulling them quickly out to the sides against the couch cushions behind him. sapnap throws his thighs quickly over george's arms, successfully trapping his arms and his body in place from where hes sat between sapnap's legs on the floor

george is immediately pleading, never having been in this vulnerable of a position before and finding it incredibly flustering. sapnap can tell, and he plays it up. he pokes his pointer fingers under each of george's arms once, making him yelp and try to yank his arms down. but sapnap's weight keeps him practically immobile from his waist up, trapped between and under the strong thighs of his friend

sapnap would coo at him, reaching a hand up to ruffle his hair as george let's his head fall back into sapnap's lap to look up to him. his boba eyes are glassy and wide, clearly full of nerves and excitement at the compromising position hes found himself in. sapnap would laugh, loving how much of a mess george was already before slowly drawing circles in the middle of his underarms, sending him into hysterics

he digs into each and every rib, making sure to take his time to really dig between them. he makes sure that george feels every single tiny spark of ticklish energy as intensely as he can, and george swears fireworks are exploding under his skin. his eyes are wet, and whenever george flings his head back to laugh sapnap can see the trails of wetness down his cheeks from the tears. sapnap flutters his fingers over george's stomach, making sure to press gently at the lower tummy a couple of times to make george buck his hips up into the air....it's much easier for sapnap to latch onto them this way :D

eventually sapnap makes his way back up under george's arms, and it's then he remembers just how sensitive his triceps are. so he drags his nails there experimentally. just a tiny scratch on the soft skin of george's right tricep. the reaction is insane. george screams like someone is killing him before breaking out into the most ridiculous high pitched cackles sapnap has ever heard. his cheeks are bright red and he’s pleading every chance he can.

unfortunately, it goes without being acknowledged

sapnap switches to lightly dragging his fingers over both triceps, and george enters a whole different level of hysteria. george is frantic, bending his arms as much as he can. his fingers are outstretched and lightly brushing against sapnap's knuckles, but never reaching far enough to grab them to stop the tickling. it's a never ending loop of torture, and being so close to successfully putting an end to it makes everything ten times worse. sapnap uses both hands on one of george's triceps and his laugh goes silent, signaling to sapnap that it's time to stop

of course sapnap slides down onto the floor with george, cuddling into him and hugging him tight. george continues giggling deliriously, still feeling an overflow of ghost tickles all throughout his body. he whines and complains to sapnap that it's not fair, that he hates him, but george stays glued to sapnap's side the rest of the night, just absolutely floaty and giggly and completely satisfied

[mytheoristavenue]

OP Usopp x Perv!Reader 🍋- ISpy

Summary: Your newest bad habit mixes your feelings about how moral your desires are, but not enough to stop.

Warnings: fem!reader, perv!reader, perv!usopp, masturbation, peeping, dirty talk, heavy praise

You had to stop doing this before you got yourself into trouble. Not only was it wrong from a rule book stand point, but it was morally wrong too! But you had been doing it too long and now it was a habit. Several nights a week now, you would sneak around the ship until you found the door to Usopp's factory before pressing your ear to it to see if it was a good time.

When it wasn't you might hear the sounds of lead scribbling on parchment or fingers rummaging through bins of bolts, but when it was good- God. When the time was right, you could be blessed with squelching, airy sighs, and the most disgusting dialogue. Needless to say, tonight was one of the later.

You sank to your knees, lip sucked between your teeth and one eye screwed shut to peer through the keyhole of the door. You could hardly see anything, only a shadow casted from the light of a single bedside candle, burning lowly, threatening to be extinguished from exhaustion. From what you could make out, the shadow was shaking, a single angle of it jumping back and forth- no doubt the elbow of a soon to be very sore arm. 'Perfect,' you thought to yourself, letting your hand wander down to your thighs before your fingers dug even further beyond.

"F-Fuck..." a voice called from within the room. "Feel so fucking good..." You trembled with arousal at the thought of his words being a result of your ministrations; your hand creating the gushy noise that echoed in your head for days every time you heard it.

"I know it does, sweet boy," you whispered back, tone shaky and barely audible as your digits slithered around and prodded you- a result of your poor position. "You like when I stroke your pretty cock?"

"Y-Yes!" Usopp's voice cracked, making you freeze in place. Had he possibly heard you? You relaxed as he continued, reassuring that he was not, in fact answering your rhetorical. "Yes, yes, yes. Right there, feels good..."

"Good boy..." you cooed to yourself, finally resorting to dropping off your knees in favor of sitting flat on the floor, sacrificing your chance to possibly catch a glimpse of his perfect ochre skin. Now, you leaned your back against the door so you could still plant an ear against it, but stretch your hips and prop your legs up just right. You sighed, once again lowering your hand between them, this time fully sliding your panties and shorts to the side and immediately plunging a digit into your core with a light gasp. "U-Usopp, wait-!" you sigh, conjuring up the image of him ramming himself into you without warning in your mind. Inserting a second finger, you let your head fall onto your shoulder momentarily as you face began to tingle with overwhelm. "Y-You're so big..."

"Yeah, baby," his voice called again from the other side of the door, more gruff this time- almost frustrated, but you could still hear the grin playing on his lips. "Just c'mere and let this fat cock stretch that little hole." You weren't sure if you'd been entirely lucid that last time, thinking it possible that your fantasies were beginning to leak into the awake world. Regardless, you didn't care. His words made your insides twist in a way that so wonderfully complimented the bullying you were doing to your cervix. "Ah- yeah, just like that baby. Shit-! Just ride this fuckin' cock!"

You were beginning to feel sweat accumulate on your forheld as you slapped your hand over your mouth to subdue the lewd racket that begged to spill out. "Y-Yes, daddy..." You whispered against your palm, having revoked your speaking privileges, lest someone might find you out. "Love riding your pretty cock, Usopp- please fuck me! Please, please, please..."

"Shit, baby-" he sighed, the sound of squelching getting louder and increasing tempo leading you to believe that he was close, had you been paying enough attention. "Gonna fill that pretty pussy 'til it drips."

"Want all your cum!" you replied desperately, three fingers ravaging your core while the digits of the opposite hand lifted your shirt up to your collar bone to knead your doughy breasts. "Fill me up, Usopp!" You shrieked, your hand falling lax with knuckles knocking the floor.

"Ahh, (Y/N), Goddamnit, just take this fuckin' cum, pretty girl." He groaned simultaneously. Suddenly, upon faintly hearing his name from the hallway, he froze before shooting up. You however, were too entranced and unable to discern real from fake, to notice that the noise on his side had ceased, not even when the door unlocked and swung open.

You had long since morphed into a position that locked you into a self sustaining stability, so you couldn't be bothered by the lack of the door that had once supported you. Unbeknownst to you, the object of your latest obsession now stood behind you, looming over and watching it astonishment as you dug a climax out of your abused hole. He couldn't help but instinctually thrust his hips in the air ever so slightly in your direction- never even enough to make contact with your hair, but it was seeing you unravel that really did him in.

You came to a messy, obnoxious end, nearly sobbing his name and with slick thighs- a result of the cream that leaked from your core. The scene sent him over the edge, creating a reaction that he'd never experienced before. As you fell back, your posture unlocking and laying you out on the wooden floor, you were brought back to semi-consciousness with the dripping of a warm, thick fluid onto your cheek, and then forehead, followed by your nose. Just as your eyes fluttered open, a fat glob landed directly on your left one, congealing in your long lashes, while ropes came down to decorate your hair and throat.

"I-I'm sorry..." Usopp whined from above, hands crumbled into fists and shyly pressed against the lower half of his face. "I-It just happened, I didn't even touch it! I-I-!" Suddenly, the shame from accidentally finishing on your face melted away and was replaced by suspicion.

"W-Wait...were you spying on me?"

Taglist:

@imamonsterfucker-sorry, @killmewithafanfic, @elii0, @starblazer124, @lilpumpkinpastie

[meetmyothersouls]

Hey, could you do a part two of "Just my luck"??

Oh yes! This one is one of my favorites!

Just My Luck

Part Two

Part 1

Warnings: some language, fluff

You apologized to the sitter as soon as you walked through the door and promised you'd pay her extra.

"Don't worry about it, y/n," Lily said.

"Really?" you said still breathlessly, still reeling from what Timothee said to you before you left him in his car.

"Really," she said, " Your son is a dream to watch. He's sleeping. He went out like a light around 7:30. You need to cut yourself some slack. You're a single mom. Your book just got picked up for a movie. You're in the studio every day making sure it's done to perfection AND you're in the process of writing what will probably be another best selling book! And..."

"And?"

"And I saw that cute guy in the car...was that Timothee Chalamet?" Lily's voice went an octave higher at the end. She nudged your arm with her elbow, as if she thought there was something happening between you and him. Which there absolutely wasn't. Was there? You weren't sure you could let yourself fall for someone like him. Someone who could bag any hot A-list celebrity walking around at any given moment. Someone who would not ordinarily be attracted to someone like you. In that moment, you decided that he didn't mean anything he said in the car. He couldn't have. People like Timothee Chalamet didn't date people like you. And more importantly, people like you didn't date people like him. It just didn't happen. Maybe in movies and cheesy romance novels. But this was neither of those. This was real life and you refused to allow yourself to be swept up in a fantasy such as Timothee Chalamet having feelings for you. Tomorrow, you'd go to work like any other day. You'd go to work like Timothee Chalamet said nothing at all to you the night before.

"Yes. And before you say anything he's just a friend, he was driving me home."

"Mhm," Lily said, pushing her tongue against the inside of her cheek. "Friend." She added, putting the word inside air quotes with her fingers.

"Have a good night, Lily," you said ushering her to the front door. "I'll Venmo you your pay for tonight."

"Okay, but if you end up fucking, I need to know all the de-" she trailed off as you opened the door. And when you looked over her shoulder, realized why.

Timothee Chalamet now stood on your front porch. Apparently, within the last five minutes it had decided to start raining. His curls, now curlier, dripped water onto your "Go Away" welcome mat and his clothes were drenched, his maroon shirt now appearing a blackish red color.

Lily made a noise somewhere between a gasp and the word "oh".

"Is that...at your door?" Lily asked, not even able to say his name in front of him.

Timothee smiled, a closed lip, nervous smile. "Hi," he said, raising his hand and giving Lily a small wave.

Lily leaned her head back, and not so quietly said, "If you don't take him, I will."

"Bye, Lily," you said, pushing her out the door. She reached out and touched Timothee's soaking, wet shirt just to say she did.

Timothee waited for Lily to round the corner and for her footsteps to start echoing down the stairwell to start talking, and when he did he didn't stop for a long time.

"Before you say anything. I'm sorry. I know I should have drove away and let you think about what I said like you said you would. Only. I couldn't. I knew that you'd get home, you'd chalk it up to me just being nice. I knew that just like you wouldn't let me have actual feelings for you, you wouldn't let yourself. I knew that you'd come to work tomorrow and act like I didn't I didn't beg you to think about the possibility of being with someone like me. And maybe you shouldn't, you know? Maybe it's shitty and selfish for me to ask you to take a chance on me, but I'm glad I did." He sounded passionate, and slightly upset, like he was on the verge of an argument, with himself or with you, you weren't sure. He took a quick breath and continued. "Anyways, I decided to come up here-which I rang the doorbell of six wrong apartments before I found yours-and at this point, I don't care if your mad or creeped out by me. I'm not leaving until I convince you to let me take you out to dinner."

You stood there, gaping at him. You weren't sure how he knew you planned on avoiding him tomorrow. Or how he knew you had already decided he didn't mean anything he said earlier. You weren't even sure what to say. Was he expecting an answer right away or were you supposed to think about this now too?

You weren't sure how long you had been silent or how long you had been staring at him, but the sound of Timothee's chattering teeth snapped you back to reality. He was still standing on your porch, still drenched in his soaking wet clothes.

"Your freezing," you said, taking Timothee's hand and pulling him inside of your apartment. "Let me dry your clothes for you. I've got something you can wear."

Timothee was now standing awkwardly in your kitchen. His arms wrapped around himself, teeth still chattering only now much softer making his bottom lip quiver slightly and his hair was forming a small puddle around him on the yellow and black tile. You came back with a towel and an old Marlboro Red t-shirt and some grey sweat pants.

"Here," you said handing him the items, "these look about your size."

Timothee made a face.

"They're my brothers not a lovers." you assured him.

Timothee nodded. "Where's your bathroom?"

"Just down the hall second door on the right."

He was in there for five minutes, then ten, then fifteen. Finally, after twenty minutes, he came out. His hair tousled perfectly and only slightly wet. Your brother's clothes fit him perfectly. You were chewing on the side of your thumb, pacing when you hear him walk back into the front room. You looked up and smiled at him. He looked good in your brother's clothes.

"I'll take you anywhere you want," he said.

"What?" you asked, still lost in his attractiveness.

"You want to have dinner in Paris?" he pulled his phone out." I can get us first class seats on any airline you want, and we can be there tomorrow night. What about...London? Tokyo? Vegas? I can take you anywhere you say the word."

"Timothee," you said, shaking your head.

"Please? Please don't deny me this." He walked up to you. Taking your chin in between his thumb and index finger. He placed the softest kiss to your lips, so soft you weren't even sure he kissed you at first. "Please," he whispered again.

"Your place."

"Hmm?"

"I want to have dinner at your place. And I want you to cook it."

A smile, pulled at the corners of his mouth, one he tried to mask the size of.

"I'm not much of a cook," he admitted, "but I will do anything for you, y/n."

You stood on your tip toes, this time placing a kiss on his lips.

"Then it's a date," you said.

"Then it's a date."

Tags: Tags: @imnotoverlyobsessive @dayafied @soulofendlessbook @fashphotolife @scentedkittenperfection @weasleytwinscumslut @mxciscastleintheair @marvelmaniac2000 @lovelyrocker @divine-1 @louievr @love-poems-only @starberry-cake @inlovewithphantasy @alexagirlie @misswestfall @softhecreator @livresjaunes @timmymyluv @inannamoon @harrys-thick-thighs @s-we-e-t-t-ea @timolaurence @ghsotfar @leecrunchybones @shahshhah @oddlyenoughiamweird @vampire-reanimator @xoxoloverb @kteezy997 @tropicalrozmajzl @lifeineverycolor @sabrinasonlyangel @violetsmutt

[finn-m-corvex]

Whumptober 2023 Day 15 - Makeshift Bandages

FINAL ONE OF THE BATCH! Congrats folks, if you've read every single one of these you have officially read 30k words worth of my work in a matter of hours. If you want to be included in the taglist for the next batch please let me know so I can put you on the list!

@splinnters final tag until the next batch because I already know you're going to want to be there!

Words: 2.1k

Jay felt it as soon as he tried to move his leg.

It took everything in him to not scream as the wooden plank shifted, and he grit his teeth when he pushed himself up on his elbows. There was unfamiliar sand piled under him; it must’ve been what cushioned their fall from the sky.

Where were they, exactly?

He spit out a mouthful of sand, finally turning back to see what was wrong with his leg.

And had to quickly look away because the sight almost made him sick.

“Gotta fix it, Jay,” he said to himself, steeling his nerves and looking again. He saw the plank that was pinning the limb in place, noticing that it was one of the destroyed Bounty’s floorboards. With shaking hands, he reached out to grab the end of it, his back twinging in protest and the cuts on his arms stinging. It took a firm yank to dislodge it, and this time he couldn’t contain a small scream as the wood left large splinters behind, buried in his skin.

Definitely wasn’t the worst injury his leg had ever suffered, but damn it was up there.

With another pull, his leg was technically free, and Jay took a proper look at it. It was scraped to high heaven, leaking fresh blood onto the sand and staining it a dark brown. There were large patches of skin missing, and Jay could feel every grain of sand settle itself into the injury, almost like they were burrowing into his muscles. He felt nauseous watching the exposed muscles flex when he tried to move it, and suddenly his vision was tunneling and his air supply was running out as his chest turned inside out.

Oh, he could not afford to start panicking right now.

“Guys!” he shouted, leaning against one of the ship walls that he happened to land near. He hated the way his voice cracked, but there was nothing he could do. “Guys! Anybody?!”

Now that he was paying attention he could feel all of the scrapes along his chest, his back ripped open like he was dragged along a cheese grater. Somehow his gi was almost completely intact despite the damage to his body, and Jay would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little bitter about the fact that his clothing seemed to be more durable than him.

“Jay?” he heard Kai yell, but as soon as he tried to answer back his leg twitched hard; it felt like someone had lit it on fire. Instead of calling out Jay screamed, hand going to clutch at his leg in desperation for the pain to stop.

That was a bad idea. Jay’s head was swimming, and he swayed dangerously from the bolt of pain shooting up from his calf where his hand had landed. The feeling of blood coating his hand was far too familiar in the worst of ways, and Jay hurried to pull it back and scrub it on his gi.

Except it wasn’t coming off.

Why wasn’t it coming off?!

“Cole, Zane, I found him!” Kai shouted, rocketing around the corner of the wall. He slipped on the sand, stumbling, catching himself and paling as he took in Jay’s condition. “Shit, holy shit. Get some bandages! We got a man down!”

He would’ve laughed if he had the oxygen. Why were Kai’s zingers always so terrible?

Kneeling down next to the blue ninja, Kai looked him over, and Jay could feel his warm hands ghosting up and down his back as he tried to guage how injured Jay was. “Jay, Jay can you talk to me? Say something, please, I gotta know if you hit your head or not.”

Jay clumsily nodded his head, shutting his eyes and trying to control his dizziness. Panic threatened to overtake him, but he kept running. The world needed to stop spinning before he did anything else. “You got water?”

Looking relieved, Kai pushed some of his curls out of his face. “Yeah, yeah I think we found some. It’s on the way.”

“I know I hit my head,” Jay said, reaching up with a shaky hand to massage his sore jaw. It clicked softly, but the pressure rocked Jay’s vision like it was on a ratchet joint. “But I dunno how hard.”

“I’ll check for a bump,” and Kai did just that, running a single hand over Jay’s scalp. He didn’t find anything, but he was startled when Jay threw his own hand away from his face. Jay’s face lost its color, breathing turning stuttery as the blood ran down his cheek where his hand had been pressed against his skin.

There was blood on his face.

His blood on his face.

“Kai,” Jay said breathlessly, groping around and latching into the fire ninja’s knee, “Kai-”

But Kai already knew what he was going to say. He took a corner of his red gi and wiped Jay’s face as gently as he could, making soft shushing noises as Jay whimpered. “I got it, Jay, don’t worry.”

Zane finally showed his face around the corner, and the nindroid’s look of alarm only made Jay even dizzier. “What happened?” he demanded, sinking down in the sand next to Kai. He started analyzing the debris stacked around the three of them, and Jay cried out when Zane tried to move one of the large pieces of metal his leg happened to be leaning on.

The cry attracted Cole, who was hauling a large and mostly intact crate filled with various bits and bobs that Jay could not be bothered to identify right now. “Jay!” his best friend cried, dropping the crate and rushing to Kai’s side. Jay should’ve been relieved to see all of his brothers alive and well, but there was only the impending feeling of vomit coming up his throat as he watched his leg glisten with fresh blood. Anxiety tended to have that effect when left unattended.

“Move,” he gasped, shoving Kai to the side, “move-”

And not even a second later and he was emptying his guts into the sand, watching it turn from a fine gold to a disgusting mustard. Kai thumped his back, and Jay could hear garbled words from Zane even if he didn’t know what the nindroid was saying. Too much effort.

“-find bandages. We cannot leave his leg like this,” Zane said firmly.

“Yeah, no shit Sherlock,” Jay spat out another glob of gross body stuff, Kai being the only thing holding him up after the red ninja had moved to sit behind his back. “Hurts like a bitch, though.”

“I bet,” Cole said sympathetically, face pallid from looking at Jay’s injury for too long. “At least you still have it.”

“Did you want me to lose it?!”

“No! I’m just saying it could be worse!”

“If his leg becomes infected,” Zane popped in, “and gets any worse, then we may have to consider amputation. Jay could still very well lose his leg.”

“What I’m going to lose is my fucking lunch if you keep talking about cutting my leg off,” because for as brave of a face as Jay was putting on, the idea of amputation terrified him. He was sure that they would build him a prosthetic, but would he still be able to be a ninja? Could he still save people? Would he even be able to work properly? Amputation and anxiety were not a good mix, what a no-brainer.

Kai snorted. “I think you already lost it, bro.”

“Amputation is the last possible option,” Zane assured, patting Jay’s uninjured knee and squeezing lightly. “Cole, did we find anything that can work as a bandage?”

The earth ninja started rummaging through the crate, looking for any sort of anything that they could patch Jay up with, but Jay was suddenly tilting to the side as his vision went topsy-turvy, and Kai was the only thing keeping him from dropping like a stone into the vomit-soaked sand.

Blood loss, his brain supplied helpfully, and Jay groaned from the dizziness that overwhelmed him. Everything was moving in circles, and he barely recognized Kai snapping his fingers right in front of his face. He was trying to get Jay’s attention.

“Shit,” Kai muttered from behind him after seeing how unresponsive the blue ninja was, and he thought quickly. “Zane, give me your sleeve.”

“What?”

“Just trust me,” Kai reached for his own gi sleeve, tearing it off at the seams. He quickly ripped the sleeve open so that it was completely flat, and while normally Kai would’ve done anything to keep his gi intact this situation was an emergency. Zane mirrored his actions on his own sleeve and handed it to Kai, who quickly tied them together. Jay’s head thunked against his chest, and Kai started panicking upon seeing his brother’s closed eyes.

He shook Jay harshly, eliciting a pained groan. “Jay, stay awake. We need to keep an eye on you.”

Frowning, Jay squinted up at Kai’s face. “I am awake, just dizzy. I don’t want to see everything spinning.”

Kai startled when Cole took the makeshift bandages out of his hands, adding his own black piece to the mix. Cole didn’t have sleeves, but he still tore off a large chunk from the strap over his shoulder, letting the front of his gi fall down and expose a couple scratches across his chest; they were nothing compared to Jay’s wound.

Handing it over to Zane, Cole reached for Jay’s limp hand, lacing their fingers together. “Squeeze if you need to, Sparky. This is gonna hurt.”

“Huh? What’s gonna- '' Jay didn’t finish his sentence before he screamed, and Kai was suddenly very hyperaware of the fact that they were in the open. They didn’t know what was in this realm, dangerous or otherwise, and they were sitting ducks with Jay downed like this. Any sort of sound alerting others to their weakness needed to be shut down.

Fumbling around, Kai’s hand eventually closed around a good-sized stick, and he hastily shoved it into Jay’s mouth and told him to bite down on it. Jay whined but did as he was told, strangling the life out of Cole’s hand while Zane wrapped his leg as quickly as he could. It was one of the longest five minutes of Kai’s life, watching as his little brother squirmed and sobbed and knowing that there was nothing he could do to make it better.

“Where’s Wu?” Kai asked as Zane finished, tying the makeshift bandage off with a tight knot and checking it over once more. Cole reached up to take the stick out of Jay’s mouth, grimacing at the splinters that it left behind and the drool leaking down his chin. He wiped away the drool and Jay’s tears as gently as he could.

Zane kept rubbing Jay’s knee to try and comfort him. “He is safe, don’t worry. Cole and I left him in the shelter.”

“Should we try to move Jay to the shelter?” Kai asked, smoothing his hands over his smaller brother’s sides and kissing the back of his head. Jay’s hair was covered in sand but Kai didn’t care; his brother needed the comfort.

“Give him a minute,” Cole said quietly, noticing the way Jay’s chest was heaving, sweat dripping down his brow and the collar of his shirt. He tugged out all of the splinters that he could find, aided by Zane, until there were none left that he could see. Kai kept Jay still, rocking them back and forth as gently as he could.

They heard a roar in the distance, and Kai’s grip tightened out of fear. “We need to move. Cole, get him up, but be careful.”

He and Zane kept a careful watch while Cole took Jay from Kai, debating the best way to carry the blue ninja to safety. Eventually deciding on just a simple carry, he hooked his arm under Jay’s back and the other under his knees, lifting. Jay’s head flopped onto Cole’s shoulder, and Cole could feel his brother’s eyelashes against his skin as his eyes blinked open.

“We’re going somewhere?” he mumbled, hand latching onto Cole’s shirt out of pure instinct.

“Yeah, bud. There’s a shelter nearby that we’re taking you to,” Cole said, starting the brisk walk across the desert sands to the Bounty’s cabin where they had left little Wu, “so just work with me, okay? It’ll be over soon.”

“Okay,” Jay said, and Cole could tell that he was trying to be quiet despite every movement of his leg eliciting a small whimper; it wasn’t long before Jay had his buried in the crook of Cole’s neck, and Cole did his best to ignore the blood leaking through the makeshift bandages and onto the sand below. 

He just hoped that dragons or Oni or whatever else lived in this realm couldn’t smell the blood to track them.

[kickis-conan-king]

Lance walked into the gathering room, the last one back from the party, and allowed gravity to take his limbs, sending him crashing down into the conversation pit. He landed upside down on the cushions between Hunk and Pidge. He let out a huge sigh, practically begging for attention.

Pidge frowned and scooted away. Hunk raised his eyebrows but didn’t tear his eyes away from his tablet.

Well, that just wouldn’t do.

Lance heaved another huge sigh and flung an arm over his eyes, the very picture of dejection.

“We don't care” Pidge said at the same exact time Hunk sighed and said “What is it, Lance?”

Lance elbowed Pidge only to receive a hard and painful poke in the ribs, but he used his squeal to launch himself upright.

“I’m never going to find love.” Lance declared. “Not a single person at that party would even dance with me, and I had the full charm turned on.”

Across the room someone snorted.

Frowning, Lance turned around.

Keith was leaning against the wall.

“Something funny, mullet?” Lance asked.

“Nothing much.” Keith replied, arms crossed and voice cross. “Just you.”

Pidge and Hunk were now paying attention.

“What exactly is that supposed to mean?” Lance said, swiveling his legs around and standing. His hands went to his hips and he glared.

“As if you don’t already know.” Keith huffed. “I’m just tired of it.”

“Tired of what?” Lance yelled, spreading his hands out and gesturing to the universe at large. “Pretty sure we’re all tired of your attitude so if that’s what you’re talking about, you can can it.”

“I’m tired” Keith said, taking an intimidating step forward. “of you complaining about not finding someone to fall in love with at every single planet we go to when everybody knows that you’re already in love.”

Lance’s jaw hit the floor. “Woah, woah, woah there!! Has your mullet gone and infected your brain? Who exactly do you think I’m in love with?”

“Me.” Keith said darkly, crossing his arms over his chest once again.

Lance stared at Keith in shock. He froze for a beat too long, something admitted in that pause that he didn’t even know he was aware of.

Quickly, too quickly, Lance sputtered “As if!! That’s ridiculous!! Wishful thinking, much!?”

Keith snorted and tossed his head. “Yeah, okay.”

“Why would you… I mean, what!” Lance turned to Pidge and Hunk who were staring at him in a mixture of open pity and glee, wincing uncomfortably but unable to look away. “C’mon guys, tell him!”

They both averted their eyes. They couldn’t have been less subtle if they started whistling nonchalantly.

Lance turned back to Keith, his hands held out like he was trying to stop a runaway train.

“I’m not in love with you!!” Lance shouted, his voice breaking and screeching.

“You just keep telling yourself that.” Keith said, advancing on him. “Meanwhile, your “charm” is hardly turned on, you spend all your time training with me and you hate training. You snuggle with me on movie nights, you lose your mind trying to protect me during battle. You’re always talking to me like youre totally bothered, but I’m literally always on your mind and youre not. subtle.”

Keith had gotten close enough to poke him in the chest to emphasize his words.

“No way!” Lance tried to protest. “That’s just-“

Keith shook his head and gave him a sharp and dangerous smile. “Baby, don’t lie.”

Lance choked on his spit.

“I’m the only one that makes you feel right. Bet you think about me at night, too.” Keith said. “You flirt and try to get with everyone but you always always end up with me at the end of the day.”

Lance’s face was turning a deep deep red. “No, no that’s not true. You’re reading into things!! I don’t love you.”

“Explain your behavior then.” Pidge piped up from the couch.

“Stay OUT of this!” Lance turned and snapped at her.

“Admit it. Other boys and girls never really make you feel like I do. That’s why you have no luck. You’re already in love with me.” Keith said.

He was so close now and Lance couldn’t think. Staring into Keith’s eyes like this made his mouth dry and his palms sweat.

“Keith, I-“ Lance started.

“Feel totally friendly and normal when I’m this close, do you?” Keith murmured, tilting Lance’s chin with a finger.

Lance had to admit to himself he felt…maybe not entirely platonic about Keith being within kissing distance. And maybe his heart was pounding and somewhere deep deep down, his soul was thrilling.

“I-I…” Lance didn’t know what to say.

“Shut up.” Keith said, looking down at Lance’s lips. They were so close that when he spoke Lance could feel the shape Keith’s mouth made around the words, lips brushing. “And choose me already.”

Lances brain went offline. Keith pushed him and stalked out of the room. Lance fell backwards to sprawl on the ground with what felt like an explosion of steam out of his ears. He laid there simmering on the ground, worldview wrecked and heart skipping.

A goofy grin wiggled over his face.

“Holy shit.” He said with what little breath he had. “I’m in love with Keith.”

Hunk leaned into his field of vision. “Uh, yeah ,dude. We know.”

[xirayn]

Let Steve be in the Band: The Prequels

Let Steve be in the Band (Eddie and Steve Against the World series on AO3) is obviously canon divergent so I will be doing some scenes from before Like Biting Bats (Very Metal).

Feel free to send asks or message me or @aibhlynn​ about whatever you want filled in.

It was a typically slow Thursday at Family Video. Steve had spent the time before using his break to pick up Robin up from school watching Brat Pack films between processing returns, cleaning, and politely ignoring that Mr Thompson was renting porn as he did every week during school hours. Now, Oxford Blues was playing as Steve leaned back against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest and his head slightly cocked as he checked out Rob Lowe. The actor is objectively attractive; especially when his character doesn’t remind Steve of Billy fucking Hargrove. If Lowe was a woman, he would definitely be Steve’s type: expressive eyes, supple lips, dark hair-

“How did you know you-” Steve hesitated. Robin had never actually used the word ‘lesbian’ to his memory, so he wasn’t sure if he should. Queer was definitely out of the question. He still needed to apologize to Jonathan for that. Other things, as well, but they were both very good at not talking to each other. He settled on, “-weren’t attracted to men?”

“How did you know you weren’t?” Robin shot back from the documentary section.

Steve shrugged a single shoulder. "I don't."

“What!” Robin scrambled to the counter. She braced herself with spread arms as she gaped at Steve with a strange mix of disbelief and delight shining in her eyes and curling her lips. “Steve Harrington, you enigma of a human, enlighten me on where that thought came from.”

“I just-” Steve took a breath. Hearing Robin’s frustrated rants about being outed and the fear that underlied them made him feel like he needed to be having some crisis. He wasn’t, though. Nothing changed about him if he was attracted to men as well as women. “I never considered it an option before.”

“And you are now?” Robin had dropped so that her head was propped against a fist with the arm of her other hand folded beneath her chest. The way she studied Steve made him feel like one of the artsy films she liked to analyze.

“Obviously.” He rolled his eyes and moved to rest on his elbows across the counter from her. “Dustin had this whole speech about moving on from ‘primitive constructs’ and dating someone I enjoy being around. Of course, he said that all while trying to get me to date you-”

Robin’s nose wrinkled. “Gross.”

“Yeah.” Even if Robin was interested in men or Steve was a woman it would be like dating his sister. “But between that and knowing you I’ve started to think maybe I’m missing the one because I’m not even looking at them.”

“Alright, well-” Robin clucked her tongue a few times. “Sex is important to you in a relationship- I mean having it not the whole-”

“I get you.”

“You do and that scares me sometimes.” Her hand left her cheek to flick his nose. “Anyway, I think the big question is if you would want to have sex with a man. For you. Other people might be perfectly happy with a strictly romantic relationship.”

“I know.” It was one of the many things Robin’s ramblings had brought to Steve’s awareness. He tilted his head as he considered sex with a man. It definitely wasn’t something he was opposed to. “Rob Lowe could get me there.”

“O-kay!” Robin smacked the counter with both hands then turned to go back to work. “Think about it without me around.”

“Bon Jovi”

“Stop.”

"That guy from WarGames."

[autumnbrambleagain]

Yhelm p11 - readmore for full

Day fourteen.

Day fourteen of Drizzle's stay in Flyhhnemonia, day fourteen of constant, non-stop rains. A few dozen degrees ago--not that anyone could even see Ardet-Argent to measure the angle of time anymore--but a few dozen degrees ago, Princess Flyhh, Heir of Love and Indulgence, one of the creators of reality itself, had finally acted.

Outside was wild, now. A once-in-a-lifetime thing. Princess Flyhh had exercised some great secret of her divine nature. The rain still fell, but in deference to Flyhh's mastery of the world, it did not land. Or more, the raindrops were missing everything they aimed at. They missed the people who walked dry through the sheets of downpour. They missed the buildings. They missed the ground. On her way here, as far as Yhelm could tell, the rain just sort of… disappeared, right when it was about to hit anything.

This was one of those rare moments that everyone, surely, would remember for the rest of their lives, and Yhelm was far too distracted to even enjoy it. She thought that was the worst part of it, really. Whenever, decades from now, whenever anyone talked about the time it never stopped raining, about the time Princess Flyhh changed how rain worked for a day, all she'd have was "Yeah I was going through some stuff then, kinda distracted."

Afternoon Sale, the tall, lace-draped knicknack, was teetering on a single stilt-like foot over Yhelm's head.

"Most people seem to be outside playing in the rain," Afternoon Sale said. "The silly things are merely observing the transient work of a god, when they could be in here, instead, savoring a god's sacred craft with every intimate crevasse of their tongue!"

"Can you actually taste coffee?" Yhelm asked.

"Prim'ent Machato, can I taste coffee! Can I taste coffee! I do not taste coffee, I experience it on levels the mortal mind would not even comprehend. I would need to invent six new words for my six coffee-specific senses that allow me to understand the true nuances of coffee in ways that poor mortals such as yourself can only percieve the shadows of! Taste it indeed!"

Yhelm bite a laugh trying to break out of her muzzle. "You're really leaning into the heir of coffee role today."

Afternoon Sale threw a dramatic, oversized hand to her dainty face and mock-swooned. "Well I must entertain myself somehow! We're practically dead today. As for you! You!" She pointed accusingly at Yhelm. Yhelm just leaned back in her seat and watched. "You are waiting for someone. But no, not one of your regular companions… you are waiting for… someone new, isn't it? You're bringing someone new to me! Ah! Tell me my prognostications are correct and I will develop even greater love for you!"

"Yeah," Yhelm said. "All devotees should turn new worshippers to their god, shouldn't they?"

"You Jayce, but speak red all the same," Afternoon Sale chortled. "Meadoe but provide they arrive timely."

Corbis was a guild miniboss, being summoned by one of his subordinates, of course he'd show up when he damn well pleased, which ended up being who-knows-how-late. In he finally strutted, not walked but outright strutted, wearing tightly buttoned layers of red and browns that clung sleek to his lean runner's body, on all fours with boots and sleeves that went all the way up.

He threw himself into the seat opposite Yhelm with his perfect graceful lack of grace. Tossed his elbow onto the table, and let his head fall onto his paw, making a show of being half asleep. "Sup," he said.

On Hartlight's Ribbon Yhelm wasn't letting this display of sheer Style go unchallenged. Hooking her hoof around the leg of the table, she leaned back in her chair, tottering at dangerous angles, arms crossed, eyelids lowered behind her glasses. "Hey." Don't ever try to out-Style a daughter of Bad Boy.

Corbis' eyes glanced around the dark coffee shop. "Weird place, but all right."

"You haven't met the weird yet," Yhelm said.

Afternoon Sale arrived immediately as Yhelm said that. "Well well well this is a new one! I am sensing: workplace acquaintance! But no, I taste a seedier undercurrent, something deeper beneath the surface… oh my, oh my how scandalous!" Afternoon Sale covered her little pointed face with her thick lace fingers, leaving only beady little glass eyes staring down. "You are more than just workplace acquaintances aren't you! Well it is not to me to judge! You are both young and in the primes of your lives! It is merely mine to provide you with the coffee your soul needs, not to judge it!"

Corbis' eyes slid from Afternoon Sale to Yhelm with a sort of "What the fuck" kind of look, his Stylish composure completely broken. Hah. Yhelm'd won. One of the reasons she had him come here. Second reason was that Afternoon Sale's coffee was so damn good.

"Corbis, Afternoon Sale. Afternoon Sale, this is my--boss, sure. Manager. Whatever he wants to call himself."

"Call myself Corbis most of the time," he said.

"You," Afternoon Sale pointed a finger down at Corbis, "will have, oh, let me guess, let me understand. Oh, really, a liquor-tea, this early in the day? And with a bravan leaf! You do not yet know that you want that minty flavor, but when you have your first sip you will understand the depths of my craft! And Yhelm! I believe… something less bitter than usual, isn't it? Yes, with sugar even, I can see it in how the skin around your eyes holds itself, you are in need of some relief from dark matters! Well! I will go prepare your prescriptions and leave you to your business!"

Corbis mouthed silent confusion as Afternoon Sale spun her way around tables and chairs and to the mass of coffee preparation devices that waited for her touch.

"Yeah she does that," Yhelm said. "I'm not sure if it's knicknack whimsy or if she has some actual Knowing-element power or something. I've honestly never had better coffee though."

"She's a knicknack, though," Corbis said. "What does she know about taste?"

"I'm to understand she has six coffee-specific senses that allow her to experience the nuances of coffee in ways we cannot understand. You'll get it when she brings it out."

Corbis lifted his head lazily off his paw, twisting his wrist with an audible pop. "Speaking of bringing out, why are you bringing me up here for? Is this a date? Normally people go on dates before they start fucking. We going backwards?"

Yhelm huffed. "This isn't a date. I wanted to talk, and I didn't want to do it in your bedroom."

"What's wrong with my bedroom?"

"There's no seats."

"There's a bed."

Yhelm sharpened her eyes. "Yes. Exactly. And I need your mind out of the bedroom."

"Pfft. You know I can have more than just Flyhh's ass on my mind right? What's up?"

She let her chair back down onto all fours. Resting her entire shoulder against the rough stucco wall. And sighed. "You've been in the business a long time, right?"

"You're doing it uh," Corbis paused to think, "roundabout," and twirled his finger in the air to give the words more context. "That's not what you really wanna ask. I've been inside you we don't gotta play coy."

Yhelm grimaced. It was a full tongue-out grimace, like she had a bad taste sensation come over her. "You don't gotta say it like that so bluntly."

"Yeah but I'm asking you to say what's on your mind bluntly."

Blunt. She could be blunt, fine. "Don't you think what happened with Lastsong was fucked up?"

Corbis shrugged. It wasn't even a very committal shrug, it was the laziest shrug Yhelm had ever seen. One of his shoulders barely moved. "I mean, gaitsbird, you know? You beat a gaitsbird at a game enough times sometimes they snap."

"I meant what happened to her. After."

Corbis' big, gold eyes stared at Yhelm, holding time in place for a long, suspended moment. "She almost killed a guy. She got almost-killed herself. That's not fucked up, that's fair. That's as fair as you can get."

"She was locked in a room--"

"Okay, I get it," Corbis said, that irreverent, cocky bravado dropping and a more reluctant maturity poking its head out, eyes blinking, so unaccustomed to the light. "That's why you're asking how long I've been in the business. Because college girl can't deal with the realities of guild life now that she's had to get her hands a bit dirty."

Yhelm's lips raised in a wordless growl that she directed away to the floor. She couldn't be that angry if he was right.

"So guess I can answer the first question then. You know who my dad is, right?"

Yhelm shook her head.

"That might as well be Belham Pio. I was given up real early. Pio took me in, raised me up in the life. So yeah, I'm the person to ask about this. Lemme guess. College girl is used to golden justice, criminal gets to sit in a cell eating dry bread for a year and then they're let out, problem solved right?"

"I guess?" Yhelm admitted.

"The guilds are old, Yhelm. And this is an ooooold city. All this, these lawizards, these courts, that's all extra stuff Aiax tossed on top of Law. You know that? Primal Law's a lot more simple. It's the reason the scale of justice is a sub-symbol of Law's antler. Direct balance. Catharsis." Yhelm hid her surprise Corbis knew that word and could pronounce it right. "The aggrieved party is tendered resolution directly upon the offending party." That was a lot more big words than she thought Corbis could use, wow. What was happening. "Big golden justice gives you, well, the system did its job, hurray for the system, which is great for people the system doesn't fuck. But most of us guild, we're poor-ass cobblepounders. Not even the Is give a damn when a background H-lights. We can't all afford the big lawizards. We can't afford the keys to the doors to get around golden justice. Gold's pricey, college girl, and red's the real color of Law anyway."

… this was all supremely more well thought-out than Yhelm had, had ever even expected Corbis of being capable of. Corbis was usually yelling or posturing and while he was sometimes right he was never articulately right.

"We throw Lastsong to gold justice and the people she hurt, they just sit there and assume price's paid. Trust in a system that ain't even theirs to do it for them? She comes out a year later a few actions proscribed and what, she's still walking around, you assume she got hers but do you know? Anger's still there. Clear it through tables, and now everyone's squared. It's a problem of abstraction, and we cut through it to the red, hard. Lastsong'll be fine in time. Pyrene, gallowc she fived on, she's quiet under Argent well knowing Lastsong got hers. Feud's done. Gold justice works if you let everyone be a rational actor, but you can rescue a princess if you think you'll keep her."

Yhelm shook her head. The basis of academagic was treating reality as a work of fiction. A spell was just a literary essay debating one aspect of it, manipulating it, reframing it. Academages by their very nature had to keep their minds open to new arguments, or their magic didn't work. As a professional academage Yhelm should allow Corbis' argument to stand on its own merits instead of just brushing it aside with a sweep of her emotions. "It's fucked up," but she did it anyway.

Corbis scratched at his chin thoughtfully. "Let's say someone kills Madrigal. Just, doesn't like them being a phanteasel, whatever. Stabs them in the streets, blood cold on the dirt. You find out about it, you're upset, you're angry. Rose Knights collect the killer. Give him a jail cell. Felicity and Falina lock him down so he can't attack anyone anymore. He's let out a year later. Harmless now, the officials say. Learned his lesson. You pass him in the street. Think he survives walking past you?"

"I--"

"Because you're still angry, you didn't get a single paw in on the deal. Someone else did it. You're taking it at someone else's word he's been punished. You didn't see it, you didn't know it, you're full Figments on it, does he survive walking past you."

This wasn't a fun thought experiment. "Probably not."

"Law can't just paint something red and call it red. You have to dye that cloth so it won't flake the moment Drizzle shows up, speak of the lunar," Corbis added a gesture out the window, where the rain fell silently on the dry city. "How long you been guild?"

"A few years?" Yhelm ventured. She hated when Corbis had the better footing than her. "It's hard to say when I exactly--"

"By the Captain I know I've sent you out to rough people up sometimes. You've stolen shit. You've gotten in a few fights. Why this one?"

"Because of how clinical it was!" Yhelm said, forcefully, finally having an actual opening! "Because when I rough people up it's drunks at the gambling loops or people stealing from the guild, or, or! We aren't--we're not the good guys but we're not the bad guys either. I--I thought we weren't the bad guys."

Corbis' eyebrows raised, slowly, showed no signs of stopping until they reached his antlers. "You're wearing a traditional Bad Boy jacket. You worship a literal god named Bad Boy."

"What do you know about adversaries," Yhelm growled.

"I know I might as well've been born one," Corbis growled back. "Freepeople weren't born with a destiny but we sure can inherit it. I inherited Bad Boy's. I try not to be a villain but if guild life's too rough for college girl Trackless built a big old world."

Afternoon Sale, at that exact moment, arrived with coffee. Yhelm's was a burnt, deep orange this time, rather than the usual Void-black. Corbis' was almost clear, faintly green-blue, with a single, multi-bladed leaf floating at the top. It was enough of a distraction the argument fell apart between them as they blew on their cups and sipped their drinks.

Yhelm's was sweet. Vaguely cinnamon. Hint of citrus aftertaste, more in the nose than the tongue. Bitterness and sweet fought in her mouth and neither was winning. Corbis looked suspicious of the leaf but after two sips he'd downed half his cup already.

"This isn't coffee," Corbis laughed. "This is like, a tea--"

Afternoon Sale Yhelm-swore-to-Aiax full-on teleported behind Corbis she moved so fast. "It is in fact made with a glass cultivar that has very little bitter flavor but retains ample caffiene quantities, mixed in equal measure with salaja imported from the Rebant colonies. The bravan leaf denies the more acidic taste of the salaja liquor and grants it a minty kick! It is a very sophisticated blend and also has an inordinately high alcohol content, mitigated by the small cup size. Tell me you do not like it, I challenge you to this very thing."

Corbis shook his head. "Dad taught me never take a bet you've already lost."

"A very wise man to have a very wise saying, and moreso wise are you to use it!" Afternoon Sale said. Satisfied in another conquest, she traipsed about to the next set of customers in need of her expertise.

"It's funny," Yhelm started over, "how it works like that. I was born into a freeperson's life. I choose adversary. I say 'chose,' I'd argue being yourself isn't a choice, but, all the same. You're a freeperson, but you were born adversary. It's a curious parallel. I think I should like you less than I do, but for it. You're an abrasive dick half the time--"

"Oh," Corbis interrupted, smiling, "oh you love that about me though. You choose every time to get into fights with me and goad me on. It feeds your duldge, Fig me not."

Yhelm rolled her eyes dramatically enough that Corbis could see it in the dimmer light.

Corbis' drink was already near-empty. The leaf sat at the bottom, a thin layer of green coffee swirling atop it as he gestured with his cup. "So what is all this, you're doubting your life in the guild now?"

"I've been reconnecting with my family lately. And I had--something of a talk with the Arbitrator. And she--I guess she made me feel bad about some of this? I guess?"

"… shit, okay, I see where this is," Corbis said. He drank the last of his coffee and ate the leaf right out of the cup, grimaced at the mint overload, and forced himself to finish it anyway. "You're not looking to go straight, are you? You got reminded some of the bad parts of the life you need me to remind you of the good, that's it, right? You want me to talk you out of quitting."

Yhelm answered with a drag of her coffee.

"Well, okay, here's the baculum of it. I'm gonna give it to you, nice and peeled."

"Ugh."

Corbis waved away her disgust. "If you really liked college you'd be there. Having your paper fights in the greenlight. But that's polite and fake and you know it. It's fake and you're an adversary. Guild is real. You don't have to fucking, wear six masks and swap 'em out depending on who you're talking to. You got a problem in the workplace you don't, I don't know, have to worry about your grant money and your advisors and whatever they have in college. You don't sit there and go, humdeedledee. Fuck I don't know how publishing works but you aren't arguing with your, what do you greenlights get, magic editors? Publishers? You're an adversary. You have a problem you fix it. Someone disrespects you they pay for it. People don't respect you 'cause a piece of paper you bought, they respect you because you have power. And you have power. And all of that is how an adversary wants to live. You can trust me in that, because with all the freedom Meadoe gave me I choose to be her boyfriend's child instead. And now here's the real good stuff, the top shelf I'm holding out on, I'm gonna reach on up and take it down just for you, okay?"

"Okay."

"Most of the guild is just poor people trying to fucking survive this mess Flyhh dumped us into. And we ain't Apat, we ain't building a party-dome to die in, when a guild in good standing's in trouble, needs something, we play the heroes the Rose Knights pretend they are. That's really why you're guild, cutie. Because you're a hardcore servant-in-the-biblical-sense. You don't have to play games with anyone. And now and then you get to do some good too. So. Dad has me go around to retired guilders who did enough guildshare for a lifetime. Drop off their pension. Make sure they're alive and healthy. Keep them from getting lonely. So you'll be taking that over for me for a bit. How's that sound?"

Yhelm finished the last of her coffee. There was a thin, too-sweet sludge at the bottom of the cup she licked up in a single slurp. It made her fur stand up and it was great. "You want me to go keep old people company."

"Aiax's folly Yhelm you're complaining you had to see something too rough to sleep through and I'm offering you some feel-good work. Take it."

"I will. Thank you. You're not the worst boss, Corbis."

"You're not the most useless enforcer I have to babysit," he said gracefully.

Yhelm spun her cup on its plate, by the handle, in counter-clockwise circles. "You know, I honestly didn't expect you to be so well thought-out."

"Pfft. I'm the boss. You think I can get away with just shouting a lot I have to know what things are." The smirky grin so well worn into Corbis' face eroded a moment. "You ever read Murmur's writings?"

"Murmur. You mean Figments' Servant, Murmur?"

"A person as a fixed crystal."

"Since when the fuck do you know phil--" Yhelm started, and then considered what Murmur, Servant of Figments and God of Philosophy, had actually written 5,000 years ago, and stopped. "We appear differently to different people because of the angle they approach us from and how their own structure reflects light onto us."

Corbis pointed at her with a 'I got you' look. "I have to be in charge. And you have to be full of stupid ideas and go around fucking up all the time. So I have to yell at you and be an ass. I don't think life's so complicated you have to spend your whole life sitting around thinking about it, but that doesn't mean I haven't done my thinking on it already either. Come at me from an angle other than bratty know-it-all college-girl-turned-thug I can give you other angles of me too."

Purely because it would be an appropriate and useful way to delay responding, Yhelm wished she had more coffee to sip. "That's fair. I think I prefer this angle over the Corbis who makes me wait for him to finish jerking off before he tells me what my job for the day is."

"Oh that's too bad, college girl, that Corbis you're gonna see from every angle. Can't help it. Just how your light reflects onto me, you know? That's my way of saying you're too hot to help it."

Yhelm sunk in her chair. "We've fucked already, dude. You can stop hitting on me."

"Unless I'm not trying to get you to fuck me," Corbis said, leaning over, "but just trying to make you miserable, 'cause it's funny to me."

"Sonofabitch."

"And you make it so easy, too!"

[118eddie]

The entire flood of Eddie's blood came to his face. "Abuela!" he said, maybe louder than intended, but he then chuckled and shook his head. "Why am I not surprised?" he said, to which she simply huffed. "I used to change your dirty diapers. You don't think I can tell when my nieto has fallen in love for someone?" Her smile then turned fond. "I can't remember the last time I saw you looking at somebody the way you look at him, mijo." It was pretty obvious she was referring to the early years of his relationship with Shannon, where they shared a similar sentiment, and they thought they were meant to be, in every possible way. But they were also very young, and very naive.

He huffed too. "Wellll... I wouldn't call it 'pining'" he started saying, which got him a good elbow on the ribs from his grandmother, who then proceeded to take the plates, already filled with food outside. When she was out of earshot he leaned in and whispered in his ear. "Maybe a little bit" he said, then smiled at him and they both got back out the door, holding the remaining of the plates. The lunch went on smoothly, mostly with Eddie trying to decide when it would be a good time to talk about what they needed to talk about. Eventually, it came down to cake and coffee time, which left a lot less plates on the table, which was good, considering the possibility of having some of those flying over their heads.

"Mom, dad- There's something I've been wanting to tell you, and as happy as it makes me, I feel it's not fair of me to share that happiness with the people who means so much to me, my family. I... um, I've been struggling with myself, for a long time now. With the things I thought I wanted for myself at one point. I chugged it all down to simply being 'confused', and then I met Shannon, and I thought that every single doubt had gone away. I loved her dearly, until the day she died, and in a way, I'll always love her for giving me the biggest blessing of my life, Christopher." He looked at his son and smiled, and the boy smiled broadly back at him. "I love you too, dad!" he chimed.

He nodded back at him, then turned his attention back to his parents. "But ever since- From about two, almost three years now, I've started to question myself, again. About what I wanted, about... who I wanted to be with. And it took me a while to stop fooling myself, and finally taking that step that would allow me to be happy again..." The look in his parents' face let him they were doing their best to process what they were listening. "So... what are you trying to say, mijo?" his mother finally asked, and Eddie took a deep breath. "I... am bisexual, mom. Dad. I like both... women, and men. Always have. I just made the choice not to allow myself to explore anything more, especially after I met Shanon." There was a frown on the older Diaz' face. "You said this happened, or whatever three years ago... That's the time when you moved to Los Angeles." It was only then that Eddie swallowed thickly. "Yeah, Dad..." he said, then reached out and placed his hand on top of Buck's. "It happened when I met him."

118eddie​:

YOU ARE FAMILY || BUDDIE (APRIL 9TH)

Eddie gave Buck a hard look, and then turned to look at his parents. “If I even see you pulling out the photoalbum, I swear-” He was half joking, half serious, since last thing he wanted was to be embarrassed in front of his boyfriend. But he went along with the teasing and followed Buck inside the kitchen, where they busied themselves into setting the plates with food up. “No sane person in the world would even think of hating you, Buck. You’re like, the nicest guy anyone could meet” he said, using all his restrain not to lean in and kiss him on the cheek, not yet, at least. “Everything will be fine, you’ll see” Eddie said, then Isabel was standing behind them, each of her hands holding their shoulders. “Edmundo is right, Buck. You’re nicest, likable and cutest guy in the world! Besides-” She lowered her voice, so that only they could hear her. “They’re not going to dislike someone Eddie loves so much, are they?” Eddie’s eyes went wide like plates, his eyes going from his grandmother to Buck. “You.. knew?”

Buck hummed, wishing he could believe Eddie. Sometimes people thought he was too friendly. People always seemed to think he was flirting with them when he wasn’t. Even long before he and Eddie had got together, he’d not really been interested in flirting with any random woman he met. He’d wanted something real, something meaningful. Of course, then he’d been blind to the fact it was right in front of him but at least he’d got there in the end. And he wasn’t sure if Eddie’s parents views on him would change the second they found out he was the one dating his son. A man. Would they approve?

Isabel’s hand on his shoulder made him jump, so caught up in his own thoughts and he was sure Buck’s face echoed Eddie’s at the words said after she lowered her voice. And then he remembered who he was talking to... of course she knew. Eddie’s grandmother was one of the most observant people he’d ever met. “How long have you known?” He asked her and she made a pah sound, waving her hand. “You two have been making love eyes at each other since you met - “ “We’ve only been dating a few months,” Buck protested weakly, and she patted his cheek, “I know. You’re lucky you’re cute because it took you a long time to catch up - Edmundo was not good at hiding his pining even when he thought I did not know.” Buck smirked sideways at Eddie, “pining for me, were you?”

[svnriseblvdd]

Family Reunion | Steve Harrington

Author: @svnriseblvdd

Word count: 2353

Warnings: bitchy relatives (an aunt and a cousin only) but none apart from that

Summary: In which you're sick of the judgmental questions from your aunt about boyfriends, and you enlist Steve to be your fake boyfriend for a family reunion

Steve is literally so cute in that GIF I can't -

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

It was a beautiful summer day, decently warm, but a nice breeze blew through the air. The perfect day, really. Except today was the family reunion.

You were dreading it with every ounce of yourself. Every single one of these brought new rounds of hurtful jokes and teasing from your family. Not always aimed at you, but quite often. And aunt Violet was probably the worst for it. She was almost always picking at your lack of a boyfriend, always comparing you to her daughter, who each time showed up with a boyfriend on her arm. Said boyfriends had two out of three times turned out to be complete assholes, but that didn't matter. Keira had a boyfriend, that was what mattered.

Today, though, would be different.

You'd employed Steve Harrington to act as your boyfriend for the day. Steve was one of your best friends, so you trusted him absolutely. You'd first met through mutual friends, because he'd been enlisted as help when tracking down Dustin's adopted baby Demo-dog, and you, as a friend of Dustin's, had also been called upon.

Together, you and Steve had parented and protected the children and undergone heavy levels of parental stress which was, quite frankly, unnecessary and unappreciated.

He'd rung your doorbell at eleven thirty, a smile growing on his face as he looked up at you, elbow on the doorframe as he leaned against it. He was dressed in jeans and a blue button up, hair sat perfectly atop his head - so very Steve.

You were wearing a pretty blue dress with a neckline across your shoulders, some white shoes, and a belt sat around your waist.

"Hey," he greeted. "You look gorgeous."

"You clean up pretty good yourself, Steve," you chuckled. He held out an arm for you, and you took it, smiling, closing the door behind you. He led you to his car, opening the passenger door for you. "Such a gentleman."

"Only the best for you."

He closed the door, crossing around the front of the car and getting into the driver's seat, beginning to drive to your grandma's lake house.

"Okay, you remember the cover story?" You checked. Everything had to be perfect. If there were any holes in your story, someone (probably aunt Violet) would gauge at them and sink that ship before it reached the harbour.

Steve nodded. "We met at a costume party. We started dancing together because you were making eyes at me from across the room because you dug my attempt at Tim Curry's outfit from Rocky Horror Picture Show. Next thing we know, we're dancing together and then I'm asking you out and boom... Now we're dating."

You looked over at him, deadpanning. "Why didn't I ask someone else to do this?"

"What other guys do you know?" Steve asked. "Aside from Jonathon, because he hates everyone, and he's with Nancy."

"I would've found someone. Maybe someone who would've acted like a mature, responsible person and take this seriously."

"Okay! Okay! I'm trying to be the best boyfriend I can here, I can only do so much seriousness. We were paired together on an English project, and you were super into Macbeth and I wasn't really until I heard you talking about it with so much passion that I kind of instantly fell in love with you and the play."

You nodded. "Thank God. Maybe there's actually some hope for this after all."

Steve stopped outside the lake house, which had many cars parked outside already. He turned the engine off, and got out of the car, running around the front and opening your door for you, taking your hand as you stepped out.

"We're not even in there yet," you reminded him with a small laugh. "You don't have to be all chivalrous yet."

"I know. I'm... Getting into character."

You laughed. "You sound like a real actor."

You pushed open the front door, Steve's hand slipping into your own. "You've got this," he reassured her. "If anything happens, I'm fully ready to throw some punches at Aunt Violet."

You grinned at him. "Hopefully it won't get that far."

The two of you walked inside, looking at the extended family all talking. And through the crowd comes your Aunt Violet, lightly pushing others aside to come greet you and judge your appearance first.

"Y/N, how lovely to see you," she greets, bright red lipstick forming a smile and huge dangling fake diamond earrings swaying. She gives you an airy hug, wherein she barely touches you, just enough for it to be called a hug. Her eyes catch Steve over your shoulder and her face twists into nothing other than blatant shock. "And you brought a friend, how nice."

Frankly, you're not surprised at her comment. The family's lost hope in your bringing a boyfriend, a boy friend would be a surprise certainly, and yet the tone she holds is odd. You know that some part of her doesn't quite want you to bring a boyfriend to one of these, it outshines her daughter. You bringing a boyfriend would be a huge shock to the family, you'd both totally steal Keira's thunder.

Steve placed a hand on your shoulder, noticing your slight nerves. You relaxed rather quickly, just the reassurance that he was there calming your nerves. "This is actually my boyfriend, Steve," you told her, smiling.

Steve's arm around your waist reinforced your confidence and you smiled, giddiness overcoming you like a massive wave. No more teasing about boyfriends, that was for sure.

"Boyfriend?" Aunt Violet splutters, shocked.

You nodded, Steve lightly squeezing your waist. "Do you want me to hang up your jacket, sweetheart?" You nodded, and he took your cardigan, hanging it alongside the rest of your family's jackets.

Steve was surprisingly... At ease. Despite the King Steve confidence he'd maintained throughout high school, he could be quite insecure at times, and honestly, he'd been quite... skittish around you lately. But yet here he was, with the calm confidence he'd had in high school, with the same sweet personality he'd developed since.

"Oh, well... It's lovely to meet you." She turned away, heading to talk to someone.

Steve leant down to whisper in your ear. "Personally, I think that was pretty successful. One point to us."

You turned to look at him, hands on his chest as he held your waist. "Her face was priceless."

"That was amazing, really. Come on, let's go grab some food, and then we'll go talk to whoever you want. If whoever you want to talk to is literally no one, that's fine. We can sit there eating and talking between us the entire time."

"I usually just wait for people to come up to me. They will eventually. Especially today."

The two of you grabbed some food from the kitchen and moved to sit on the deck outside, overlooking the lake. By now, Aunt Violet would've told practically everyone about the news.

This was proven rather quickly as Keira came outside, a tall, muscly guy following her out. "Oh my God, Y/N, it's so good to see you!" She, like her mother, gave an airy hug too. "And who's this? Is this your boyfriend? Mom was just telling me you'd brought someone. She failed to mention how handsome he was."

The guy behind her wasn't listening, clearly uninterested in the day.

"This is Steve," you introduced.

"So great to meet you, Steve. I don't - should we hug? I feel like we should hug." She placed a hand on his shoulder, your eyes landing on it and jealousy striking through you.

"Hello," Steve greeted simply, taking her hand off of his shoulder and sliding an arm around your waist.

Keira seemed a little taken aback, straightening herself up. "Anyways, I have to go talk to people. Love you, talk to you later."

"Of course. I'll see you later."

Keira led her boyfriend away, your eyes travelling down to your fumbling hands as they left. You were picking beneath your nails, Steve frowning as he noticed. He held your hand, meeting your eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. She just really gets on my nerves, that's all."

"Were you jealous?" You looked away from him, rubbing the back of your neck. "Oh my God, you were totally jealous."

"Shut up!"

"I promise, you had nothing to worry about."

You smiled at him, your gaze flicking down to his lips momentarily. It was then that your grandmother chose to come say hello, accompanied by another aunt, Aunt Beatrice, the two of them sitting down with you and Steve.

"Y/N! How wonderful to see you!" Your grandmother exclaimed happily. She was, unlike her daughter (Aunt Violet) a lovely person. "I assume this is Steve. Violet's been telling everyone. Between you and I, she's a little outraged. But ignore her. Tell me everything." She patted your knee.

"How did you meet?" Aunt Beatrice inquired.

"Last year, actually," Steve replied. "We were paired up for a project in English. I wasn't totally interested in it. I never understood Macbeth. But Y/N explained it so well and she was so passionate about it and I just kind of instantly fell in love. With her and the play."

"Oh, that is gorgeous," your grandmother commented, a hand on her chest.

You turned to look at Steve, finding his eyes already on you. And for a moment, you forget that it's all fake. The way he's looking at you, that damn smile, the love in his features as his hands find yours. But you have to remember. Of course it's fake. He's just really good at this whole boyfriend thing.

"Steve, what our your intentions with our Y/N? We can't have her getting hurt, of course." Your grandmother and Aunt Beatrice are the only blood relations (aside from immediate family) who don't suck on some level. They're genuinely nice people.

"Y/N is honestly one of the most, if not the most, incredible people I've ever met. She's changed my view on the world, and helped me change for the better. I feel like she's constantly surprising me, because I always wonder how on earth she could be so amazing, and then something comes up and I've learned something new about her. She's just so unbelievably awesome, I mean she totally rocks. She's turned my world upside down." You supressed a laugh at his words. "And I'm gonna be here as long as she wants me to be. And I'll try to make her as happy as she makes me, even happier."

Your grandmother and Aunt Beatrice were speechless, honestly. You turned to look at Steve, a look of almost shock on your face.

"This one's a keeper, Y/N. Better than any of the idiots Keira brings for us. All beauty and no brain, or personality for that matter. This one is sweet."

You could see Keira watching from just inside one of the doors that led out onto the deck, her anger clear in her eyes. The attention wasn't on her and she was pissed, clearly, but that was the least of your worries.

"So, Steve, tell us about yourself," Aunt Beatrice prompted.

You took the opportunity first, to show Steve the same love he'd shown to you just moments ago. "Steve is amazing. Really. I mean, was he a little bit of a jerk in high school, absolutely, but he's changed himself around totally. And don't let him fool you. He'll tell you I helped him change, except he never needed me. Because he was always a good person. He just needed the eye-opener to realise it. He's become so wonderful. He plays basketball, he's a great swimmer. He doesn't know movies, but that can be easily fixed, he has a good taste in music. Those kids I've told you about, he acts like a second mother to all of them. He's so protective over them and he cares so much for all of them. It's honestly one of the best things to see."

"Steve, you sound almost too good to be true," Beatrice chuckled.

"Yes, don't let this one go, Y/N," your grandmother agreed. "My camera! I need my camera. I need a picture of the two of you." She was up and away rather fast for an old woman, and she returned quickly with her camera, ready to take pictures.

You and Steve stood, finding a good place to stand, with the lake right behind you, leaning against the railing. His arm was round your waist, yours around his, bright smiles on both of your faces.

But then, he did something unexpected.

It had happened rather suddenly, and you had barely registered it before it was over, all too quickly.

Steve's lips, on your own. They were soft, and the kiss was even more so, gentle like the stroke of a feather against your skin.

He pulled away from you as the family outside cheered a little among themselves, grinning. His eyes searched yours for a moment, your tongue darting out to wet your lips, his eyes following the brief action.

"Oh, that is a lovely one. That is absolutely beautiful. Look at this one, Bea." Your grandmother showed Beatrice the picture, and her face lit up in a smile.

"That is gorgeous." And then the two of them walked away.

"That was..." You murmured.

"Yeah, it was."

"You should've picked drama, you're really good at this," you told him in a quiet voice.

He chuckled, looking down at his feet for a moment as a blush crept up his neck. "I don't have to pretend that you mean the world to me."

You paused, thinking his words over. Did Steve Harrington just admit to having a crush on you? Because it certainly sounded like he did. You looked up at him. "Did you just -"

"Yes. Probably. If you're thinking what I think you're thinking."

A huge smile grew on your face, your hands reaching up and grabbing his face, pulling him down to you, your lips meeting his an a kiss that lasted much longer than the first.