#and she’s still glued to her match 3 games the whole time

[labyrynth]

i know this sounds crazy but. get this.

sometimes…with visual media…you do have to actually LOOK at it. sometimes…they put Important things in the visuals (because it is visual media) that you will Miss if you’re only glancing up once a minute.

sometimes you just have to suck it up and actually WATCH the thing instead of listening to a visual medium.

[ak319]

I love Roxi 🩷🩷🩷 do you think she would be ok with a fem partner? Like, a partner with a more feminine style. The partner will still take care of her and baby her, buut they will do that while wearing dresses and makeup and stuff :)

Okay, so Roxi is someone who desires an honest partner who loves her and only her and is loyal to her and not her money. You could be her childhood best friend, a fellow model or her fiance. Let's look at each of them﹒♡

If you're her childhood friend, her family obviously trusts you, and Roxi trusts you with her life. It's kind of that classic "AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES!" scenario, to be honest. You went to the same school, and if you're rich, you probably lived in the same neighborhood (having sleepovers at her house, making you an honorary Moore because of how much time you spent there). If you're not rich, she still clings to you like a puppy, dragging you to the Moore estate every time you hang out.

You two were THAT DUO in high school, always glued to the hip--if one of you was absent, the other one was too and wearing colour-coded dresses almost every day. Whatever your hobbies are, like gaming, for example, Roxi made sure to set up a whole gaming room just for you. Makeup? You are getting gifted the best kits and she even teaches you the best techniques. You still braid each other's hair like you always did, at 3 a.m. during sleepovers when she even lets you cut it if you're being goofy and you're the only person she lets touch her hair. You both cook together, making a mess in the kitchen, but come on--it’s fun. It’s pretty obvious to everyone around you that you two are perfect for each other, and somehow, you finally muster the courage to confess to her, WHICH SHE'S BEEN WAITING FOR FOREVER! Now, you’re together! Passing her love notes in class just to see her blush has become your favourite thing to do. She even makes lunch for you, despite having a whole line of attendants at her disposal, and every time she feeds you, it only fuels that little voice inside your head that says, "WIFE HER UP!" But no, you need a job first--get a grip, (Y/n). You both still wear those matching bracelets and outfits and have your favourite café where you celebrate your anniversaries. Roxi used to hate it when people mistook you for her cousin or just a friend , but now, with a ring on her finger and her arms around yours, she proudly declares that YOU ARE HER WIFE!

If you’re her colleague, expect her to be your number one fan. She still remembers how nervous you were on your first day at the modeling agency, the day she met you and took you under her wing, guiding you around. From then on, she practically became your... manager? Your shoots? She has to know. Your makeup, hair and the outfit you’re wearing for the ramp? She has to know, because it has to be nothing short of the BEST.

She even argues with the staff or the designer to ensure you both do a duo walk or photoshoot. Later, she’ll be in bed watching edits of the two of you on repeat, squealing and giggling at the sheer energy you bring to the stage beside her. She makes some herself too. After all, she made sure her sweetheart looked P-E-R-F-E-C-T from head to toe. Your actual manager? Yeah, she’s in therapy because of Roxi now, and you don’t even know.

You both launched your own jewelry brand with signature couple bracelets, and of course, you debuted the collection on your anniversary because, why not? After all, she’s not only your mentor and best friend but also your girlfriend, and she deserves the best. You’re famous, partly thanks to her, and you thank her every single day.

If you’re her arranged fiancée, then girl, Roxi is beyond grateful to her dad for choosing YOU! She practically falls in love the moment you speak, like how smart and confident you are-- and when you both discover that you share the same love for brands and fashion? THE SAME ONES SHE LIKES?! It’s like fate!--aaaaand her father just had to interrupt by asking about your degree. SMH.

So, it’s settled that you’re the heir to your own family’s company, but then you find out that Altan isn’t so sure about Roxi being the heir to her family's business and wants you to take over--wait...maybe not.

"I WANT TO BE THE CEO TOO, DADDY!"

"Why? I thought you-"

"NO! If (Y/N) can do it, so can I! I want to impress her. Please, please! And she said she’ll help me too!"

Cue both of you strutting out of your shared mansion in chic pantsuits, looking like a power couple straight from a fashion spread, and as you drop her off at her office, a quick kiss on the cheek seals the deal before you head off to yours with a proud smile on your lips.

On weekends, she sits on your lap, engrossed in her book while you try to work, both of you sporting face masks. Despite sharing nearly all the same interests, there are still moments when you don’t see eye to eye.

Like when it comes to selecting a movie.

Or your new hair colour and style. Yeah, she threw a fit when you suggested a change, but of course, you always end up giving in to your baby in the end.

You lounged on the couch, a bowl of popcorn resting in your lap, Roxi scrolled through the streaming service, her brow furrowed in concentration. “Okay, I found it!” she declared, excitement bubbling in her voice. “We’re watching that new romantic thriller.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “No way. Last time we watched a thriller, I ended up with popcorn all over me because you screamed at every little twist. Remember?”

Roxi spun around, a faux look of innocence on her face. “I can’t help it if the suspense is too much for me! And you’re the one who decided to sit right next to me. I thought it would be comforting!”

“Comforting?” You raised an eyebrow. “You mean distracting while I tried to focus on the movie instead of your dramatic reactions?”

“Dramatic? I was just passionate!” she retorted, crossing her arms, a playful pout on her lips. “Besides, it’s not my fault you get all nervous and twitchy during the intense parts.”

“Oh please, you just want an excuse to snuggle up to me when things get too tense,” you teased, leaning back with a confident grin. “Admit it, you love using me as your personal pillow.”

She leaned in closer, her eyes narrowing playfully. “Maybe I do. But if I’m going to use you as a pillow, I expect some… perks.”

“Perks?” You chuckled, leaning in, your faces inches apart. “What exactly do you have in mind?”

Roxi smirked, the glimmer in her eyes igniting a spark of mischief. “How about you promise to give me a back massage after the movie? That way, I won’t feel bad about screeching every five minutes.”

You pretended to ponder her request, tilting your head thoughtfully. “Hmm, a back massage? That sounds like a fair trade. But what do I get in return for this act of selflessness?”

She leaned closer, her voice sultry as she whispered, “How about I let you pick the next movie we watch… and I’ll wear that cute little outfit you like?”

Your breath caught in your throat, the playful banter shifting to something undeniably charged. “Now you’re speaking my language. But you do realize that if I pick the next movie, it’ll probably be something completely ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous is fine, as long as I get my back massage afterward,” she replied, biting her lip, her playful gaze never leaving yours.

You grinned, feeling the electricity in the air. “Alright, deal. But if I hear one more scream tonight, you’re in charge of the popcorn cleanup!”

Roxi laughed, the sound warm and inviting. “Fine! But just remember, I might need extra motivation to keep my cool.”

You smirked, feeling the thrill of the moment. “Motivation, huh? Well, if you scream too much, I might have to find a more… persuasive way to keep you quiet.”

“Oh? Is that a challenge?” she teased, leaning back slightly, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Because you know I can handle a little thrill.”

“Bring it on, babe,” you said, your heart racing. “But just remember, I play to win.”

Roxi Moores HC

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #290: Tomoe Gozen (Saber)

Greetings, gamers! Today on Fate and Phantasms we’re building Lord Yoshinaka’s gamer girlfriend Tomoe Gozen in D&D 5e. Hey, if Lasengle thinks letting her name slip is fine and dandy I’m not one to argue.

Tomoe’s a Soulknife Rogue to build her own VR sabers, as well as a Samurai Fighter so she can play all night long. Yep, this intro’s not super complicated, mostly because I have no idea what “VR Shinkageryu” is either.

Check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Next up: Summer 5 speedrun no internal organs glitchless 235:6:4

Race and Background

Tomoe’s still a Tiefling like last time, but we’re making her with a Zariel bloodline instead of the original flavor. This gives you +2 Dexterity and +1 Constitution as well as Darkvision, Hellish Resistance against fire damage, and a Legacy of Avernus. You know the Thaumaturgy cantrip innately, and you get more spells you can cast once per day each as you level up- Searing Smite at level 3 and Branding Smite at level 5. While a soulknife is a fun light show, it’s not quite as fiery as we’d like for your NP. That’s where the smites come in.

You’re also still a Noble, but since we’re getting history later you’ll pick up proficiency in Persuasion and Survival instead. I don’t know how someone with a VR headset glued to their eyes is supposed to survive in the wild, but you have a skill all about it, so I assume you’re good at it.

Ability Scores

Your highest score is going to be Constitution. Staying up late is a constitution save, and once again you have a whole skill dedicated to it. After that is Dexterity. Laser swords use dexterity. Bikinis use dexterity. Dexterity is good. Almost as good? Your Charisma. Some would call playing a video game a performance, and at the very least you’re probably good at beat saber. We’re also gonna make your Strength above average, part oni and all that, so your Intelligence and Wisdom are less good. Turns out it’s hard to see what’s happening when you have a VR headset strapped to your head 24/7.

Class Levels

1. Rogue 1: We’re starting off as a rogue for the extra skills and also to get your VR experience going as soon as possible. I know we’re out in the mountains so you’re already getting shakes from game withdrawal, so we’ll make these levels quick.

At first level you have proficiency in Dexterity and Intelligence saves plus four skills like Acrobatics for flashier swordplay, Athletics for oni strength, Perception for twitch reflexes, and Performance for higher scores. You also get double proficiency or “Expertise” in two skills like Survival and Athletics. Oni be strong.

If you’re using a finesse or ranged weapon and you have advantage or a buddy near the target, you can use a Sneak Attack to deal extra damage. Right now it’s 1d6, it’ll get bigger as we go.

You also know Thieves’ Cant, which I guess in this case is just gamer lingo.

2. Rogue 2: A second level rogue can make a Cunning Action as a bonus action each turn, disengaging, dodging, dashing, or hiding with the speed of a child whose mother just came into their room in the middle of a sick gaming sesh on their DS.

3. Rogue 3: At the third level of rogue we finally take a step into the magical world of VR by becoming a Soulknife. This gives you Psionic Power, a.k.a. twice your proficiency bonus in Psionic Energy Dice, which right now are d6s. You regain them all on a long rest, or you can get one back per short rest as a bonus action. Right now, your dice have two uses. You can use them for a Psi-Bolstered Knack, a.k.a. adding them to a failed check you’re proficient in and possibly turning it into a success. You only use the die up if you succeed, so there’s no shame in trying your hardest every match! You can also use Psychic Whispers for some teamchat, rolling the die and setting up a groupchat (telepathically) with up to Proficiency number creatures for that many hours, as long as you are within one mile of whoever you’re talking to. The first shot is free, each use afterwards eats up a die though.

But none of that sounds like VR Shinkageryu, does it? No, it doesn’t. Thankfully we also have Psychic Blades to stand in for your VR sabers. Whenever you take the attack action, you create a laser blade to make that attack with. It’s finesse and can be thrown, and it deals psychic damage instead of piercing or slashing. On top of that, it leaves no trace of the damage it deals, as all the damage happens in VR. Obviously. Included in that damage might be your sneak attack, which is bumped up to 2d6 this level.

Also, you can make an extra attack as a bonus action using a smaller blade.

You could also use that bonus action to take Steady Aim, giving you advantage on your next attack at the cost of not being able to move that turn.

4. Fighter 1: Now that you have the swords, it’s time we got good with them. Pick up the Two Weapon fighting style so you can add your ability modifier to offhand weapon damage, and you also get a Second Wind to heal yourself as a bonus action. Every gamer keeps refreshments on hand for hardcore gaming seshes. It’s not pretty, but that’s just the reality of the life you signed up for.

5. Fighter 2: Second level fighters can make an Action Surge once per short rest for an extra action in a single turn. This doesn’t give you an extra bonus action though, so you can still only make three attacks in a turn.

6. Fighter 3: At third level you become a Samurai, which is thankfully a lot less front-loaded than Soulknife was. You become proficient in History, and you also gain a Fighting Spirit up to three times per day. Spend a bonus action, get temporary HP and advantage on all attacks for the turn. Simple stuff.

7. Fighter 4: Now that we’ve put it off for as long as possible, we can finally grab an Ability Score Improvement for higher dexterity. That’s a higher AC and stronger swords, baybee.

8. Fighter 5: Fifth level fighters get an Extra Attack each action- that’s two per action, up to three per turn with a bonus action attack, four with your action surge, or a maximum of five with an action surge and a bonus action.

9. Rogue 4: Use this ASI to bump up your Constitution for more HP. That’s a +9 bonus this level- remember, HP changes are cumulative.

10. Rogue 5: Fifth level rogues can make an Uncanny Dodge as a bonus action, halving one instance of damage coming your way. Psychic blades have plenty of perks, but you can’t make reaction attacks with them, so at least now you have something to use that reaction on each turn. Thankfully your 3d6 sneak attack should make up for not having opportunity attacks.

11. Rogue 6: Sixth level rogues get another set of Expertise, so your Performance and History checks should be even better than before. You’ve seen it all before, both in terms of games and historical events.

12. Rogue 7: Seventh level rogues gain Evasion, supercharging your dexterity saves. On a failure, you take half damage. On a success, you take none at all. This only works on saves to halve damage- if passing the save already negates all damage, you’ll still take all the damage on a failure. Speaking of damage: 4d6 sneak attack, once per turn. It’s nice.

13. Rogue 8: Use this ASI to max out your Dexterity for the hardest bathing suit around and to make sure your VR sabers burn as brightly as possible.

14. Rogue 9: Ninth level soulknives have Soul Blades, which isn’t a confusing name at all. This gives you two more uses for Psi Dice. You can add a roll of the dice to a missed attack roll to make Homing Strikes, only spending the die of the attack now hits. Alternatively, throw that sword (and that die) around for some Psychic Teleportation, moving up to 10’ x the die roll.

Your psychic blades also become a bit stronger thanks to your 5d6 Sneak Attack damage.

15. Fighter 6: Sixth level fighters get another ASI, and since our dex is already maxed out, might as well grab a feat like the Flames of Phlegethos. This mostly just makes your searing smite a little more searing- whenever you roll fire damage from a spell, you can reroll 1s and take the new roll. Also, whenever you cast a fire-dealing spell you become a little bit of a sun yourself for the round, shedding light and dealing fire damage back to any creature that hits you with a melee attack. It also bumps up your Charisma, which is nice since…

16. Fighter 7: Seventh level samurai are Elegant Courtiers, so you add your wisdom modifier to your persuasion checks. This isn’t a “can” ability, and it also doesn’t have a minimum, so… yeah, you’re worse at persuasion now. At least you also get proficiency in Wisdom saves.

17. Fighter 8: For more save proficiency, grab the Resilient feat with your last ASI for +1 constitution and proficiency in those saves! Staying up late will eventually be a constitution save, so now it’s a bit easier for you. Shame we’re leaving off on an odd number, but oh well.

18. Fighter 9: If that’s not enough, your Indomitable spirit lets you re-roll a failed save once a long rest. Save this for saves you’re good at, like… most of them, actually.

19. Fighter 10: Tenth level fighters get a… Tireless Spirit. Yes, we really picked up this entire subclass just for this joke. This also legitimately helps you stay up late, since rolling initiative with 0 Fighting Spirits lets you gain one back.

20. Fighter 11: Your final level is pretty simple, but effective- another Extra Attack lets you make up to seven attacks in a turn, if you’re using two actions and your bonus action to attack. That’s three per action, if you’re averse to division.

Pros and Cons

Pros:

With a maxed-out attack modifier, an absurd number of attacks per turn, and the ability to just give yourself advantage at will, you’ve got some consistent damage on the table. I can’t even dock points for range since you can throw these things around and teleport. It also helps that they’re the extra hard to defend against Psychic damage type so that very few builds can block your attacks. Just… ignore the Abby build we just made.

While all summer servants are used to traveling light, you take it to the next level since you need no equipment to work at your absolute best. Okay, to be fair you work better in actual armor, but it’s not mandatory.

You’re not only good on offense either! Your saving throws are also fantastic, with four proficiencies, including all of the big three- Dexterity, Constitution, and Wisdom. Those three make up a large bulk of the saves you’ll make throughout a typical game of D&D, so they’ll definitely help you shrug off some of the nastier effects your party deals with. Plus, you have fighter-tier HP with a rogue’s uncanny dodge, so you can stay up for a while.

Cons:

Psychic laser swords are cool, but soulknives have some drawbacks. First off, if you’re fighting a creature like Abby, your reliance on psychic damage will hose you completely, unless you have a spare dagger on hand. Also, you can’t use attacks of opportunity with a soulknife, since that’s not an attack action. This seriously cuts into your damage output, since you could sneak in another sneak attack on someone else’s turn. That’s especially bad since…

The only serious damage you’re doing is with sneak attacks. With small damage dice on your soulknives and the limited number of smites you get per day, you’ll only be doing appreciable damage on late-game enemies once per turn no matter how many attacks you land.

Speaking of smites, you have a ton to do on your bonus action, don’t you? Smites, healing, cunning actions, an extra attack… Having options is never a bad thing, but it does mean this is a more complicated character to bring to the table.

[pot-of-terv]

FINALLY! It is here! The conclusion to my PuzzleJune series! Thank you so much for everyone who’s tagged along on this journey and thank you especially to @xauroraxborealisx for arranging this event. It’s been a wild ride for me because this is the first time I’ve ever done something this big so I’m incredibly grateful for everything ;__;

I might continue this story with tiny bits here and there but for the foreseeable future, this is it. Hope you enjoy!! 💗 (Please be sure to read the previous parts first if you’re new here :3)

PuzzleJune 2021, Week Four: Mind (School, Bond)

“Aren’t you hungry, Yuugi?”

The aforementioned boy startles, almost dropping his spoon into his soup. He looks at his grandpa and blinks.

“Uh, yeah, not really. Sorry.”

“Thought so,” Sugoroku nods and drinks his remaining broth straight from the bowl. “Give the rest to me.”

Yuugi blinks at him again, almost owlishly, and lifts his bowl with stiff arms to hand it over to the old man.

Sugoroku doesn’t waste any time and goes for the soup as soon as it’s in front of him. Yuugi smiles at him, amused, and stands up. He gathers up his spoon and glass and brings them to the sink.

“Thanks for the food,” he calls out as he leaves the kitchen. Sugoroku answers him with a grunt, probably already immersed in his crossword now that there’s no one else at the table.

Yuugi walks the stairs to his room slowly, silently thanking his grandfather for not making a fuss about his suddenly disappeared appetite. It’s been a quiet day but he feels tired and he’s kept zoning out. He blames it on the blistering heat of late summer but even to him, it sounds like a lie – the real reason is that he misses Atem.

He doesn’t bother closing the door of his room behind him and goes straight for the bed, falling onto it face first. It’s stupid, I know, he thinks and lifts his head enough to be able to tilt it to the side so he’s not smothered by the plush bedspread. He’ll be back soon.

Jounouchi had come to the house early that morning and asked to borrow Atem. He had reasoned that because school would start again in a week, he wanted to spend at least one day together with just Atem, doing whatever. Atem didn’t have to enrol, after all, so they won’t be able to hang out that much anymore after the classes start.

Yuugi understood him, of course – he will see Atem every day even if there’s a lot of homework, but the others don’t have that privilege. He had even joked that why aren’t their other friends waiting in line to get a turn, too, flustering Atem and making Jounouchi guffaw.

In all honesty, he’s really happy that Jounouchi would take the time to spend a whole day with Atem. They’d been going out as a group a lot after the first week and a half of Atem living (actually living) with Yuugi and while having all of their friends to hang out with is so much fun, Yuugi treasures time spent one-on-one.

It doesn’t change the fact that after being glued to Atem’s side for so long, Yuugi finds himself lost without him. His mind feels like candy floss, fluttery and sticky, and he can’t concentrate. He had tried to go through his deck in order to decide if it’s good enough (he and Atem need their own decks now, after all, so most of it is brand new) but couldn’t get past the first couple of cards. After that hadn't worked, he tried a few different games that he could play by himself but got no enjoyment from them. He’d just been going through the motions and realising that, he had decided to go down to help his grandpa at the shop for the rest of the day.

It’s not healthy to be so attached, he knows, and they really need to work on that – Yuugi is sure that Atem is fine with Jounouchi, but what about when they need to go to school and Atem stays home? He’d like to believe that the pharaoh will be much better off by himself than Yuugi is, but that is doubtful. They’ll have to have yet another talk soon – preferably today.

Yuugi bites his lip and sighs. There really is no coming back from the kind of bond that they’ve shared – through mind, heart and body – and Yuugi doesn’t want to imagine the pain that Atem’s departure to Afterlife would have caused when a simple day spent apart makes him unravel at the seams. Also, this train of thought could bring him to a place he most definitely doesn’t want to go now so to distract himself he turns onto his back and fumbles blindly to his left to grab the book he had left on the bed earlier that day.

- 

The sound of rustling wakes him an undetermined time later. He opens his eyes slowly, groggy enough to feel like he should just go back to sleep, but when he glances at the clock on his desk his stomach flips and he shoots up from the bed – the book he had attempted to read falling on the floor with a bang – and startles Atem who had been digging through a grocery bag.

“Ah! Yuugi!” he yelps and almost falls onto his butt from his crouched position on the other side of the desk. Thankfully he doesn’t send any of his purchases flying as he stabilises himself by quickly planting his other hand on the floor.

“Sorry!” Yuugi apologises quickly, his heart still racing. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep and he most definitely didn’t mean to sleep that late. It’s already seven in the evening, meaning that Yuugi had snoozed away for three hours. But – it also means that Atem is back, as evidenced by the boy currently looking up at him with concern written all over his face.

“I didn’t mean to wake you –” he starts but Yuugi silences him by shaking his head.

“No, I shouldn’t have slept in the first place. Really, I should thank you,” he says and pauses, then just looks at Atem. An unprompted smile makes its way onto his face. “Welcome home.”

There’s wonder in the pharaoh’s eyes and after a moment of silence, he returns the smile with such warmth it can almost be felt. “I’m home,” he replies, and Yuugi smiles wider.

He really is.

-

“Are you sure you’ll be fine?”

“Aibou, please,” Atem laughs and holds Yuugi’s face between his hands, squishing his cheeks. Jounouchi chortles from somewhere behind him and Yuugi frowns in his direction but doesn’t move away from Atem or try to pry his hands off of his face.

“But I worry,” he says, looking rightfully pouty as he shifts his gaze back to his partner. Atem laughs more and releases his face, patting his other cheek before crossing his arms.

“I’ll walk back home, help grandpa open up the shop and then it’s smooth sailing from there. You don’t have to worry,” he smiles at the still pouting teen in front of him. “I’ll be fine, you’ll be fine, and the day’s done sooner than you realise.”

“Yeah, Yuugi,” Jounouchi cuts in with a grin and drapes an arm around Atem’s shoulders. “Atem knows his way around the shop and we’re all here to take care of you. No sweat.”

“Honestly,” Anzu smiles and swiftly elbows Honda in the ribs before he can interrupt her. “We know it’s hard on you both but it’s just like ripping off a bandaid, right? It stings at first but it doesn’t last forever and even before you realise, you’ve forgotten all about it.”

“Y-yeah,” Honda says, rubbing his side, “what they said. We’ll be here, Yuugi.”

Yuugi stares at his friends, feeling his cheeks warming. How in the world did he get so lucky?

“T-thanks,” he mutters but can’t help smiling in the end. “You guys are great.”

“Hell yeah we are!” Jounouchi exclaims and does finger guns at him, his other arm still on Atem’s shoulders. Atem laughs but his eyes are soft when he looks at Yuugi.

“Go on, then. The gates are about to close, aren’t they?”

“Oh, shit!” Honda and Jounouchi yelp at the same time and the latter releases his hold on Atem. He ruffles the spiky-haired head before taking off after his best friend. “Stay crispy!” he shouts over his shoulder at Atem.

Anzu shakes her head, frowning. “These guys are too much. You don’t have to run yet!” she tries yelling after them but the duo is already too far ahead. She sighs but when she turns to Yuugi and tilts her head to the side, her eyes are twinkling.

“I should go after them. I trust you’ll be right behind, okay?”

And she winks. Yuugi flushes pink but before he can say anything, she’s already jogging off. There’s a chuckle next to him and he looks at the pharaoh who seems much too happy.

“That wasn’t fair,” Yuugi grumbles and that only makes Atem laugh harder.

“You’ve got amazing friends,” he says when he’s calmed down. Yuugi bristles at him but the pink on his cheeks takes away from his attempted glare. Just a little bit.

“They’re your friends too!” he reminds him and that makes Atem sober up. His voice is surprisingly quiet when he talks.

“They really are,” he says and smiles in that gentle way he's been doing a lot lately. Yuugi softens at his expression and they take a moment to just look at each other, wondering, smiling. There’s so much to be happy about, they both realise at the same time, and Yuugi takes Atem’s hand.

“I know you’ll be alright. I’m, just, I’m – I’m going to miss you.”

Atem smiles at him and squeezes his hand. “I’ll miss you too, Yuugi.”

It makes Yuugi’s smile widen and he chuckles. Of course he knew it but it feels good to hear it said out loud. He’s sure it’s the same for Atem.

“Well, I guess I should be going. Take care,” he says and without pause, kisses Atem on the cheek. “See you after school!” he grins and with one final squeeze, lets go of Atem’s hand and turns around to run after his friends. His chest is buzzing and he smiles the whole way to the building.

Atem is left standing at the curb, eyes wide, face red. He lifts his hand to touch his cheek and the skin there feels electric, as if that simple touch of lips had awakened a new sense that had been completely dormant until now. That feeling spreads across his skin, reaching the top of his head and the very tips of his toes and it’s so, so warm.

It feels really nice. Atem breaks out into a grin that matches Yuugi’s earlier one and turns around to leave, his hand staying on his cheek. He must look smitten as anything but he doesn’t care. He’s happy, so why not show it to the world?

As soon as he takes the first step, he almost collides with Ryou who had come running around the corner.

“Oh! Sorry, Atem. I overslept!” the white-haired boy exclaims and stops to give a quick pat to Atem’s shoulder. “Have a good day at the shop. I’ll come to visit if I can, after school!”

He grins and waves and dashes through the school gates before Atem can wade through the fluttery mess that is his mind for a greeting. He’s still reeling but Bakura didn't seem to mind his silence so it’s probably alright.

-

The walk back home doesn’t feel lonely in the least. After all, his partner is always with him, even when they’re apart. Hearts are wonderful like that.

And that, if something, is worth smiling for.

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

Honest mistake [Ron Weasley x Reader]

Title: Honest mistake Pairing: Ron Weasley x Reader Word count: 2.5k Published: 13 April 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Warning: Alcohol, drunk teenagers Summary: [x] Winning a quidditch game means one thing and one thing only, drunken teenagers stumbling across the corridors of Hogwarts. Ron Weasley isn’t any different, he is anything but sober by the time you catch up with the trio and for once you don’t mind drunk people.  Bingo: [x] This is part of my Band–psychos 1.5k Followers Bingo Card by @band--psycho​ 

Square filled: Drunken Confession 

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

Band–psychos 1.5k Followers Bingo Masterlist

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Winning a quidditch match meant one thing and one thing only. Teenagers drunkenly stumbling around the castle trying not to be caught by Filch and Mrs. Norris. It was a hard task, one that many failed to achieve. But you seemed to be on the right path as you hid in empty classrooms, behind statues and hidden passages. You were on your way to the Gryffindor common room to continue the party, you simply slipped out to help your friend going back to the Ravenclaw common room after she had decided that clumsily undressing herself on a table would be the best way to entertain the rest of the school. Although she was somewhat comical, you couldn’t let her go through with it, so there you were, trying to sneak back in.

Luckily the corridor leading to the Gryffindor tower was empty, no sign of Filch or his cat, but you still kept the noise of your shoes as faint as you could possibly manage. You quickly whispered the password to the Fat Lady, who opened the door for you, although murmuring something under her breath that you couldn’t quite catch.

“Finally, where were you?” George slurred as he threw his arm around your shoulder, his scent of alcohol immediately hitting your nostrils.

“You smell like fire-whiskey, George,” you grimaced as you removed his arm from your shoulder.

“It’s the smell of adulthood,” he shouted after you, but you didn’t even acknowledge that you heard his drunken rumbling. You looked around searching for your cousin, Angelina, who previously tried to get you as drunk as she was, unsuccessfully. Drinking wasn’t something you enjoyed, and it wasn’t because of the taste of alcohol, but because it felt like you lost control over yourself and that wasn’t something you enjoyed. You liked to be in control one way or another.

As you tried to push past the sea of people, you caught sight of Angelina, but she seemed to be rather occupied by Fred Weasley’s lips. Rolling your eyes, you turned around, searching for some better company. There was one particular ginger boy you were interested in finding, but you couldn’t see him anywhere nor did you see his friends. Hermione, Harry and Ron were glued by the hips as far as you saw and when one was gone so were the others.

Giving up on your search you flopped down on an empty armchair, not far from Fred and Angelina, who seemed to have better things to do than realise your presence. The sound of their saliva exchange seemed to bother you the longer you sat in your spot and by the time Angelina slipped into Fred’s lap, you couldn’t handle it anymore. The definition of control was something you just wanted to forget as the whole Gryffindor common room was a mess of drunkenly stumbling kids with no self-control. You couldn’t handle the sight, the noises, the crowd, you reached for the lonely bottle of fire-whiskey on the table and chugged a good shot down your throat.

Inevitably you started coughing, your body’s reaction to the unusual substance was obvious rejection, making you feel like you were about the throw up. Taking slow, deep breaths however seemed to have worked as the alcohol stayed down and after taking a second and third round, your body got used to the feeling. The room started heating up and you felt your cheeks flush, your ears burn as though someone changed the temperature in the room. But you weren’t naive, you knew it was simply the effects of the alcohol.

“Someone changed her mind about alcohol,” Angelina quipped as she finally parted from Fred. You didn’t even realise when the smooching sound has stopped, but it felt calm and somewhat pure again, regardless of all the drunk, dumb teenagers crowding the room.

“I couldn’t handle the atmosphere anymore,” you replied in a dry tone.

“Or?” she raised a questioning brow, a rather suspicious smile spread across her face.

“Or what?” you squinted with a deep frown across your brows, trying to understand her indications.

“You know, liquid courage,” she winked playfully, but her words meant nothing to you.

“I have no idea what you are on about. What would I need courage for?” You grimaced, scrunching your nose in the process.

“Obviously to ask Ron out,” she deadpanned you as if her statement was natural.

“Hold on a minute, you have a crush on my brother?” Fred quipped in with a wide grin on his face, one that didn’t indicate you were about to get out of this uncomfortable situation any time soon.

“Oh, she is head over heels for him,” Angelina laughed, slightly tilting her head back, holding onto her stomach. You didn’t find the situation quite as funny as she did, but it might have been because of the difference in the amount of alcohol you both consumed.

“So, when are you going to confess?” Fred asked with a humorous tone to his voice. Although you expected to be made fun of, it felt wrong that they found your feelings for the youngest Weasley brother comical. Watching him for years, yearning to be close to him and being swept aside to be stuck in only a friendship with him was beyond hard for you to handle and now that two people who were close to you made fun of you certainly didn’t help your unfortunate case.

“I’m glad you are enjoying the situation,” you huffed, trying to divert your attention from the couple, indicating that you didn’t find their presence interesting any longer.

“Oh, come on, we were just joking around,” Fred added upon seeing how uncomfortable he’d made you. But there was no reply, you didn’t even spare a glance at him. Fred heaved a heavy sigh and stood up, stumbling over to you and taking a seat on the arm of your chair. “Listen to me, my brother is a complete idiot for not realising your feelings, and I’m an idiot for making fun of you too, but it’s in our blood, maybe he just needs a little nudge,” he grinned proudly as if his idea was some sort of newfound solution. But in reality, you have tried to nudge the boy so many times, giving him hints, staying close to him as much as you could, but he remained blind to your feelings.

“If I nudge him anymore, I might as well push him down a hill,” you added bitterly, making Fred snort.

“I think our mother would have a say in that, but whatever you feel comfortable with,” he kept chuckling as he walked back to Angelina and captured her lips again. You never meant to be bitter about other couples, you didn’t want to be jealous, but watching them embracing each other made you feel useless for once. You stood up from the couch, securing your firm grip around the bottle of fire-whiskey as you stumbled around the room, not even trying to control your own body’s reaction to the alcohol. At that moment you just didn’t care anymore.

“Hey, we were looking for you,” you heard Hermione’s voice from across the room faintly. It took you a good few seconds to find her as you glanced around the room in anticipation, hoping the ginger boy was close by. As you caught a glimpse of Hermione’s bushy hair with Ron and Harry on each of her sides, you cut through the crowd, halting in front of the trio.

“So was I. Where were you?” You questioned as you tried to catch Ron’s eyes, but he found his shoes more interesting than your presence. You heaved a heavy sigh, one that has been an hourly occurrence around the boy, each time destroying just a little more of the hope you still harboured for the slightest of chance that you might just have a tiny chance with the boy.

“Ron got a bit too drunk,” Harry huffed in an annoyed tone.

“As if,” Ron quipped in, his cheeks crimson red, his words slurred. You found his pouting adorable, and you could barely contain the small smile threatening to grow wider.

“He confessed his undying love to me,” Harry added with a deadpan expression.

“I didn’t see that it was you,” Ron added in haste, trying to save himself from further embarrassment.

“You were looking straight into my eyes whilst you did so. So, whether you really are in love with me, or you have had way too much to drink. Your choice,” Harry raised a questioning brow, waiting for his friend to reply.

“Well, I’m certainly not in love with you,” he huffed.

“Then I guess you are drunk, what a surprise,” Harry retorted, making you giggle.

“Whatever,” Ron shrugged, heading towards an empty sofa and dropping down on it.

“Can you pay attention to him until I get some food and water for him from the kitchen?” Hermione asked with an exhausted expression and you could just imagine the amount of effort it took her not to strangle her drunk friend.

“Of course, but hurry back. He needs to just sleep it off,” you told her as she nodded and walked past you with Harry in her steps.

You walked over to the couch, looking at the boy, his limbs spread all over the cushions, his eyes closed, clearly in need of a good sleep. “Don’t worry, Hermione and Harry will be back soon and then you can go upstairs,” you tried to reassure him as you sat down beside him.

His eyes opened and effortlessly stared at you, making you feel as though you were tiny under his intense gaze. You attempted to turn away, but his blue eyes completely captured you and as much as you tried, you couldn’t get yourself to take your eyes off him. Gulping loudly, you shifted deeper into your spot, feeling as though it would be better to disappear.

“You’re fairly pretty, you know?” He asked with a lopsided grin, his confidence surprising you.

“Excuse me?” You asked, fearing you have heard him wrong.

“You’re quite pretty,” he repeated himself as he leaned closer, this time making sure you heard him well. His cheeks were slightly blushed, his freckles scattered all over his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

“Qu—quiet? What does that even mean? Am I supposed to feel happy and take it as a compliment or were you trying to insult me?” You chuckled awkwardly, although you were rather happy both as a result of the bottle of fire-whiskey you were still holding on to and the compliment or so that you have received from Ron for the first time.

“Well, I mean— I can’t just walk up to you and confess my love for you, can I?” He snorted, laughing at himself, but you didn’t find his words funny. You were stunned, your smile disappeared and there was only one thing going through your mind. How sincere he was. “You would kill me if you realised how much I loved you,” he added, surprising you even more. Trying to control your heartbeat, you took deep breaths, but it didn’t seem to help. His words affected you both physically and emotionally. Your cheeks felt as though they were burning, your breathing was irregular, and you could physically feel your blood pulsing through your veins whilst your brain didn’t seem to process his words.

“What did you just say?” You asked, needing reassurance.

“I said you would murder me if I told you how much I loved you and I can’t risk that,” he slurred, his eyes closed once again, feeling tired from the amount of alcohol he has consumed throughout the night.

“Ronald, you just have,” you tried to reason with him, a small smile hiding in the corner of your lips, his confession making you feel content. It did run across your mind that it was the alcohol talking, but in the end, you just ignored the voices, because alcohol or not, no sane person would make such a silly mistake.

“No, I haven’t. You might have a hearing problem,” he replied cluelessly, shrugging his shoulder. You found his state rather funny, so you decided to push him.

“So, you don’t like me?” You asked, raising your brows curiously.

“Wait what?” he asked as though he finally realised something was wrong. His adam’s apple bopped firmly as he swallowed, his palms sweating in his nervous state. “I—you are my friend, of course, I like you,” he tried to save the situation.

“Then you won’t mind if I leave you here and go and dance with other people. You wouldn’t mind a bit,” you questioned with a rather proud smile.

“Erm— I’m your friend and I don’t feel well,” he cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck, trying to keep his hands occupied. “As a friend it wouldn’t be nice of you if you left me like this,” he added, nodding along to his clever thinking.

“Okay, but after you have gone to sleep, it would be perfectly fine if I danced with others, right? You wouldn’t be jealous,” you asked with an innocent smile. Ron was clearly searching for the right words, but they just didn’t come.

“If— if that makes you happy, sure, go ahead,” he nodded along awkwardly, confused about his own words. You couldn’t stop the silent giggle from leaving your lips as you leaned closer and kissed the corner of his lips.

“I like you too, Ronald,” you chuckled at his cheeks taking on an even darker shade of pink and the surprise sitting across his face.

“Hey, we are back, let’s get you up,” Harry added as he appeared in the crowd with Hermione following him behind. “Are you okay?” Harry asked, looking at his friend who still looked at you as though he had seen a ghost.

“He is just tired,” you replied instead of him with a proud smile.

“Come on,” Harry stepped closer, hooking his arm around Ron’s body, placing his arm around his own shoulder.

“I meant it,” you quickly said causing Hermione and Harry to frown, but Ron understood. A wide grin spread across his face as he tried to balance himself.

“So did I,” he chuckled and leaned closer, hinting a small kiss on your forehead. “Hopefully I won’t be dead tomorrow and we can actually sit down and talk without me feeling like a rag doll,” he laughed, and you couldn’t stop yourself from returning his expression.

“I’d certainly love that,” you offered him a sweet smile as he nodded and stumbled across the common room with Harry’s help.

“What was that about?” Hermione asked with a deep frown, for the first time feeling completely clueless.

“I guess you will just have to wait to find out,” you giggled as you headed towards the dormitory, shoving the bottle of whiskey into George’s hand. You left the loud crowd and walked up the stairs to your room, with a wide grin across your face, impatiently waiting to wake up even though you weren’t even asleep just yet.

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[holylulusworld]

Paid

Request: Have you ever considered writing a mafia!reader x Dean? like maybe he need more money to help Sam in school but what he earn isn't enough so he start to hustle at pool but then he plays one of her men and when they took him to her, she doesn't punish him because she remember he and Sam were the only one not afraid to be her friends in school. She gives him one of her clean activity so he can help Sam and stay safe. I think it would be an interesting scenario to see 

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x Mobster!Reader; Sam Winchester x Ruby ‘the dame’ Demon

Characters: Bobby Singer

Warnings: angst, language, mobster business, fluff, implied smut, secret relationship, I mention the word sex slave (in a funny conversation)

A/N: Please excuse the awful mobster nicknames. 😉; Gabriel and Gadreel are brothers for my story. (Please consider their surname, just like Ruby’s as a joke)

Part 3/3 - Catch up here:

Part 1 - Debts

Part 2 - Interest

Divider by @firefly-graphics

“Fuck,” someone growls next to your room, moaning audibly. The female seems to enjoy herself and you wonder if Dean had the guts to bring a random girl into your house. It’s not as if you are in a relationship but you will not tolerate he disrespects you. “Harder,” the woman now orders, and you switch the light on.

Angrily clenching your jaw, you get out of your bed to storm toward your door, muttering under your breath.

“I will kill him,” ripping your door open you walk toward the room you offered to Dean only to bump into your mechanic, sleepily rubbing his eyes.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, pointing toward the room his baby brother inherits during the Christmas holiday. “I told Sammy to not bring any girl here.”

“Ah, yeah,” you huff, relieved it wasn’t Dean who brought a girl to your home. “Uh-while we are awake at 3 am how about we get a snack?” you offer, giggling as Dean’s eyes drift toward your chest. “We still got some pie left.”

“I always liked Garfield,” humming to himself, his eyes still glued to the shirt you are wearing, he licks his lips. “Do you have matching shorts too?”

“Careful, Winchester,” sliding your hand into his large palm you lead Dean down the stairs. “I can still not share the pie with you.”

“Did I mention I’m sorry Sammy brought a random chick to your home? He’s young, just broke up with his girlfriend or she with him,” scratching his scruffy chin Dean shrugs. “Young love – huh?”

“Ya know, when I was young, like Sam-,” you giggle, acting as if you are elder than you are. “Back then, things were easier.”

“I remember clearly,” Dean nods, huffing as the door to the kitchen flings open.

Sam steps inside, grinning cheekily, followed by the girl he brought home.

“RUBY?” gasping you watch Ruby smirk when she leads her lover inside your kitchen. “What did I tell you about seducing Dean’s brother?” you scold, laughing as your friend shrugs, a dirty grin on her lips.

“Look at him,” she swoons, sliding her hand over Sam’s chest, making the tall man shiver at her touch. “He’s so tall and handsome. I can climb up at him and he, well he can manhandle me the way he wants to,” she turns her head toward you, giving you a wink, “and I let him, Y/N. Thrice…”

“I think I just lost my appetite,” choking on his pie Dean shudders. “Sammy, you are here for Holidays, not to break more hearts.”

“She jumped at me, Dean,” Sam defends, mirroring your friend's grin. “Ruby is a bad girl, so demanding and tiny.” now you shudder as Sam looks down at Ruby, shamelessly roaming her body with his eyes.

“I warned you, Y/N. You knew when Dean brings his brother in my territory there is a high risk I’ll just snatch him out of his hands and do dirty things with him,” Ruby coos. “Look at him. His girlfriend broke his heart, and he needs someone to help him ease the pain.”

“They are shameless,” muttering Dean whispers in your ear. “How about we eat the pie in my room and plan how to survive seeing my brother half-naked with your friend.”

“Deal-“

“Christmas is close, and you are a free man now,” humming Dean closes the trunk of the last car he repaired while still in your debts. ”Just saying boy, it’s not too late to run. I don’t want to lose the best mechanic I ever had, but Y/N’s kind of business is not for you.”

“I signed a contract and-“ watching you walk toward him Dean smiles, sighing dreamily as you are wearing a red plaid, matching his. He gave it to you to thank you for your kindness, hoping you’ll like it.

“Nice new shirt, kiddo,” Bobby watches you and Dean warily. “Ah balls, kids,” lifting his cap Bobby mutters under his breath. “Does anyone know yet?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” swallowing thickly Dean looks at Bobby, feeling his cheeks heat up. “Let’s have lunch and talk about Holidays or something.”

“You are wearing matching clothes. The hickey on your neck tells me someone gave you a bit too much attention and,” Bobby laughs when you poorly try to hide the grin on your lips, “my kiddo looks like a love-sick teen next to you.”

“Bobby, don’t tell anyone,” you whisper, looking over your shoulder, not missing Gadreel and Benny watch your every step. “Gadreel still doesn’t like Dean and I want to make sure he’s safe.”

“Sooner or later people will find out you are dating your mechanic, Y/N. I can protect him while he’s at work, but not all the time. If you want this man,” huffing Bobby looks at Dean, before he pinches the bridge of his nose, “you must clarify he’s yours. Like your father would’ve done.”

“I’m not my father,” you quip. “I told you that I’ll not claim someone to make sure he’s-“

“Kiddo, if you clarify Dean is yours, everyone will stay the fuck away from your man. No one will dare to touch a hair on his head, you know it.”

“But-“ sputtering the word you nod, looking at the man right in front of you, wearing a matching plaid. “You are right, Bobby. If I want Dean to be safe, I’ll have to make my claim on him known.”

“Claim?” cocking his head Dean laughs nervously. “Will you just ‘take me’ right in front of the people? How does this work?”

“I will declare you are my man, parade around town with you. We need to be seen and my men will spread the word. I would’ve asked Ruby for help but she’s busy screwing your brother’s brain out,” your face stoic you try to explain the consequences of your relationship to Dean.

“Don’t mention Ruby and Sammy-“ shuddering Dean looks at you, frowning as he can see a single tear run down your cheek. “What’s wrong? I’m up to this whole claiming thing, promised. I got no problem if anyone knows we are a pair.”

“Dean, you’ve got no clue what this means to you and your life. Everyone will know you are mine-“ sniffling you hate you are not a normal woman, living a normal life. “This would ruin you and your reputation. Not to mention it would effect Sam’s life too.”

“Yeah-and?” cocking a brow Dean looks at you. “Sammy is a grown man and he just started to have an affair with one of your most trusted people.”

“When she says you are hers, Y/N means it. All the people in town, everyone you have ever known will hear that you are in her debts and that’s the reason she made you her lover,” Bobby tries to reason with Dean, failing miserably.”

“Like a sex slave?” a dirty grin on his lips Dean looks at you. “Right? They will think you forced me into your bed to pay my debts. Uh-dirty. Do you want me to have your name on my ass or shoulder?”

“Dean, this isn’t funny,” stepping closer you cup Dean’s cheek, softly pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth. “I want you to have a good and fulfilled life. With me, you’ll never be free.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be free, not if it means living without you, sweetheart,” Dean presses his lips to yours, swallows all your protests. “I don’t care how – as long as we can be together.”

“We are going to marry,” Ruby exclaims, snickering when Dean’s mouth falls open. “Sam wants to be my husband sooner than later.”

“Ruby, stop giving my boyfriend a heart attack. It’s Christmas and not nice of you to do so,” you scold. “I hope you used condoms, kids. We don’t want little Ruby’s run around the house.”

“Aw, we wanted to have three or four kids,” laughing at Dean’s pained expression Ruby sits next to Sam, grinning widely. “I was just joking. I can assure you we acted like responsible young people.”

“Why is she here during Christmas again?” Dean whispers in your ear.

“Just like me, Ruby got no family left. All of her friends work for me and are with their families over Christmas, well except for the ones protecting us. But they work in shifts, so everyone has a day off for Christmas.”

“You’re a good boss,” Sam looks around the large living room, admiring the Christmas tree you chose this year. “Dad never got a Christmas tree.”

“I do it every year. It’s the only good thing I remember when I think about my father. He got the prettiest tree for my mom and me before he decided to file for divorce and sent us away,” you sniff, holding Dean’s gaze.

“Dad was a hard man, but I try to remember the good things, not his bad habits,” Dean mumbles. “I understand very well how you feel, Y/N.”

“That’s nice,” humming silently you watch the fire die in the fireplace in your bedroom. “I could get used to having you in my arms for the rest of my life, Y/N.” Dean tries, carefully bringing your relationship up again.

“Dean, we’ve talked about this. If we make it official, there is no turning back. The moment you break up with me or leave me for someone else, you are fair game. This is nothing I want for you,” sniffling you hide your face in Dean’s neck, wetting his skin with your tears.

“Sweetheart, I don’t want someone else or to leave. My mom used to say that when you find the right person, your person,” pecking your hair Dean sighs deeply, “you feel like you belong, you feel like coming home.”

“Coming home,” lifting your head to meet Dean’s eyes you fight to blink the tears away. “Makes sense, I guess.”

“I feel like that around you, Y/N. Whenever you are with me, it feels like home. I don’t care if anyone believes I owe you shit. All I want is to be with you, no matter what.”

“You sure, Dean?”

“Damn sure,” smiling you hold Dean’s gaze. “I don’t want to leave or find someone else. Please don’t shut me out, baby girl.”

“You feel like home to me too,” kissing him softly you smile against Dean’s lips. “Good thing you paid your debts, or your ass would be all mine-“

“I’m all yours, Y/N. Every part of me…”

SPN Forever Tags

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Dean/Jensen Forever Tags   

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[unrelenting-jazz-hands]

There's paperwork and everything, that's my weirdo.

They both think its a stupid idea at first. Big, fussy weddings are a waste of energy, time, and money. They don't need to make some big announcement about it, they already know they're committed to each other.

But then they realized they can put anything they want on the gift registry. There isn't a law that says it can only be shit from Bed, Bath & Beyond. It could be a new microscope, a year's worth of tea, or a non-flammable waffle iron.

Hange thinks of how it would be great time to make Levi dance and take cute pictures. Levi knows how happy a wedding would make his mom. He also sometimes thinks about how beautiful Hange would look with white flowers in her hair and how she would smile before he leans in to kiss her.

He kind of likes the idea of saying ‘that’s legally my weirdo.’

But they hum and hah over the idea, going back and forth between the pros and cons of the concept of marriage. Hange has made more than a few diagrams and slide shows. Levi nods during her presentations, taking notes. They both learn a lot about the history of the modern concept of marriage in their part of the world. Hange digs around to learn about marriage through the lenses of different fields. She likes to have the whole enchilada before making big decisions. As she puts it, you can't make sound decision before there's a whole lot of enchiladas cookin' in the kitchen.

There isn’t anything wrong with the idea of them getting married, but nothing ever gets decided.

Then one day, Levi is walking through downtown Sina, to pick something up for Kuchel, when he pauses at a window. There, on a plastic hand, is the first ring he has ever seen that might just be able to survive Hange. He goes inside and stands there, looking nervous and uncomfortable, until a sales assistant asks if he would like to look at something. He hopes he doesn't sound as unsure as he feels when he asks about the ring in the 3rd window.

The sales assistant nods and asks what he likes about it, he laughs and says it looks hard to break. She smiles and leads him to a table.

It's even prettier up close, he realizes, as he holds in between his fingers. Beautiful and sturdy, not unlike the person who's finger this ring would sit beautifully on.

Hange is messy, loud, and enthusiastic about everything; she can't enter a room without drawing attention or leave a room like she found it. But she is so kind, caring, and gentle (and patient, and funny, and brave, and brilliant). She sparkles all day and smolders during the night. He smiles to himself and imagines her waving happily at him with this ring on her finger.

xxx

He walks out of the store an hour or so later, hands a little clammy. Inside of his pocket there is a small maroon box and a stack of warranty papers. Inside the box there is a silver ring with small sparkling diamonds set flush into the band; nothing to get broken off or snagged on something. It has small indents along one side, where another ring will go, fitting together like a puzzle piece. They can choose the next band together and get a matching one for him. He stops mid-step in the middle of the street, looking more constipated than usual.

Fuck. He's going to ask Hange to marry him.

xxx

Hange looks beautiful that evening. Its a warm summer night and Levi had dinner ready for when she got home. Her favourite meal, drinks, and music were ready to go. He was wearing a nice pair of pants, and the third shirt of the day (he sweat through the other two). She gets home and he's at the door, drink in hand, to kiss her hello. She looks over his shoulder at the patio he spent hours setting up, her eyes widen and a small smile creeps onto her lips.

He's really sweating now.

He shoves the drink into her hand and directs her to the stairs, saying to go put something nice on. If he's going to do this whole thing than they better be able to get some good photos out of it.

He's pouring himself another pina colada (her favourite) when she walks into the kitchen. She's wearing one of her brightly-coloured jumpsuits that she breaks out every summer (this one is held up by straps that tie over her shoulders, and he's had a lot of fun untying them on various occasions).

Barefoot, hair down, and smiling brightly; she lights up even more when she sees the pina colada cups filled up to the brim (they bought them last summer and she insists it makes the drinks taste different).

xxx

Dinner went smoothly, he tells himself. She's chatting happily about work as they sit around the little patio table. Dinner was finished. Time for dessert. Shit. Shit, fucking shit.

He stands abruptly, which makes her pause and raise an eyebrow. He excuses himself, grumbling something about dessert, and rushes back to the kitchen.

Shit. Shit. Ok, its time. His hands are shaking as he takes the little box out of his pocket. He opens it one last time to check that the ring is still there, still in one piece, before placing it in the middle of a tray. It's surrounded with the assortment of pavlovas he spent a good portion of the afternoon baking (they're Hange's favourite). He carefully places a white bowl overtop of the box and then places another bowl, right-side up, on top. He fills it with blueberries, with a mint sprig on top. Beside it, a bowl of whipped cream and two spoons.

Alright. The plan:

1) Put the tray down.

2) When she goes to mix everything in one bowl (like she always does) ask her to pass you the other bowl.

3) She lifts up the bowl and then bam. There's the box.

4) You take the box, get down on one knee, and open the box.

5) "Will you marry me?"

He's run through this a hundred times. He can do it. This is going be fine. He looks outside at Hange, who is facing away from him, head tilted back to look at the sky. He gulps. Game time.

He walks outside, curses as he almost trips (his life flashes before his eyes), but makes it to the table in one piece.

He sets the tray down before taking a seat and proceeds to stare at his hands. She tilts her head to the side and asks if he's ok. You look unwell, are you feeling ok? What did you eat for lunch?

He waves his hand, stammers out an unconvincing excuse, and motions for her to help herself. Hange raises an eyebrow at him but then shrugs and turns her attention to the plate in front of her. She starts to mix everything and Levi's mind goes blank. He can hear her begin to chat in the background but he can't move his body.

He has found himself in some scary situations before, but this was the most terrified he's ever felt. He looks like it.

But before she has the time to ask if he's ok or reach over to place a gentle hand on his cheek, he blurts out that she's hogging the whipped cream and to pass him the bowl already.

No, not that bowl. The other bowl. No, the one under the blueberries.

She lifts the bowl, eyes glued to his face. She doesn't see it, she's still staring at him. His mouth is open, he's staring at her, and he feels like the world's stupidest piece of shit. He shuts his mouth, and clears his throat. She looks at him like he's losing it, and maybe he is.

Fuck. She's looking down now. She's looking down at the tray. Fuck she sees the box. Oh shit, she sees the box.

He stands up, almost tripping over his feet, and grabs the box a little more aggressively than he planned.

For a minute he's just standing there, holding the box. But then she looks at him with those damned brown eyes; they're wide and sparkling... but there is a hint of fear there too.

She looks nervous, he thinks to himself. She hasn't been practicing for this all week and she doesn't know what's going to happen. Neither of you know what's going to happen tomorrow, or in the next year, or in the next 50 years. But... facing the next 50 years with this brave, fierce, kind, loyal, clever, funny, beautiful person would be the best thing Levi could think of.

He feels himself relax and smile softly. He kisses her forehead before kneeling down. He wonders if she can hear his heart beating loudly, and she wonders if he can hear hers.

Now he's down on one knee. Levi looks up at the person he loves most, the person who makes the sun warm and the sky blue. This is the person that helps ground him when his brain gets stuck in a painful loop about some stain or imaginary dust, that tells him when he needs to apologize, laughs at his stupid jokes, lights up his life, and holds him tightly when he wakes up from a nightmare.

He wants to always help her do her laundry, remind her to eat and sleep when she gets too caught up in work, he wants to celebrate with her when she gets a grant or a tenure position at a university, to smile and tell her that her burnt cupcakes and muffins aren't that bad. He's lucky to have her and he'll never stop trying to be a man worthy of her.

They have the rest of their lives to be together; to laugh at stupid jokes, plant vegetables in their little garden, get stoned and eat everything in sight, go for long hikes in the woods, watch shitty horror movies, and hold each other close. There isn't anything in the world he wants than to hold her and kiss her and love her. Fuck, he even wants to dance with her.

He can't believe he hasn't done this sooner.

No, those are not tears in his eyes.

His eyes are locked on hers as he opens that stupid little box.

"Will you marry me?"

[matbarzyy]

Must Have Been The Wind [A.B.]

A/N: Soooo my requests are closed but I still get some and an anon sent me a good one that stuck in my brain and I ended up actually writing it anyway lol. I’ll link the post here once I’m not too tired to look for it again. Anyway, this is based off a song by Alec Benjamin, enjoy.

Word count: 2755

Warnings: Abusive boyfriend

.

“What the hell?” Anthony mumbled to himself and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

The loud noise that had woken him up echoed through the building again. It was glass shattering. Whatever was going on, it was happening in the apartment above his. The digital clock on his bedside table shone dark red numbers that read 3:05, and he groaned as he pushed the covers off his body and sat up.

At first, Anthony thought someone might have dropped glasses or plates, but the sound was much louder. It wasn’t an object being dropped, it was something being thrown. Knowing he wouldn’t get back to sleep immediately, Anthony got up and yawned on his way to the kitchen. A dim light was still on, he had forgotten to turn it off before going to bed, but now he was thankful he could see the layout of his unfamiliar apartment.

He was renting the place even though he had just bought a brand new apartment that was at least twice as big. The day he sold his old place, a water leak and gas problem arose in his new building. For a moment, Anthony had thought he was cursed, but with some help he managed to find this place to rent and he didn’t even have to spend a night in a hotel.

It was a temporary solution, so he was okay with having only two bedrooms and a rather small kitchen. It wasn’t like he’d have his family coming over any time soon. Maybe the neighbours were a little crazy breaking stuff at ungodly hours, but with a glass of water and ear plugs Anthony would get right back to sleep.

He stopped dead in his tracks when the sound of glass shattering was replaced by a cry. His glass got abandoned on the kitchen counter while he tiptoed to his front door, trying to catch any other noise.

The voices turned clearer as the yelling grew louder, it wasn’t enough for Anthony to understand what they were saying, but he could tell there was a girl crying while arguing with a man. There was no way he could go back to bed now. What was he supposed to do?

Should he try to go up there? Was calling the police a better idea?

His dilemma ended when a door slammed upstairs. Quickly, Anthony glued his eye to the peephole to see anyone that might walk past his door. This cursed building didn’t have an elevator, so if someone was leaving he’d see them. The light in the corridor was off, but with the moon shining bright outside it wasn’t completely dark.

As the stomping of feet got closer he caught the silhouette of a man heading out. A minute later, the sound had faded and the entrance door had slammed shut with the noise Anthony was getting accustomed to.

He stepped back and grabbed a hoodie from his bedroom, pulling it over his head to hide his bare chest. Dressed in a little more than just sweatpants, he hurried to find shoes, grabbed his keys, and slipped out of his apartment.

When he got to the second floor the faint sound of a girl crying directed him to the right door. He lifted his hand to knock but hesitated for a second. What if he got the wrong place and bothered someone at three in the morning?

Deciding that someone’s safety was more important than getting in trouble with his neighbours, Anthony quickly shook his head and gave the door a couple of loud knocks. He heard shuffling on the other side, followed by footsteps, and eventually a slight creak.

“Can I help you?” The girl opened the door just a crack.

She had a sweater zipped up all the way to her chin, and her eyes were a little swollen, but in the darkness it was hard to tell she was crying for sure. Her voice seemed steady enough as far as Anthony could tell from that short sentence.

“Hi, sorry, um I know it’s super late,” he shuffled from one foot to the other nervously. If only he had thought about what to say before knocking. “I’m Anthony, I live right downstairs, I just heard some noise and stuff… I wanted to make sure everything’s okay?”

“Uh, yeah? I didn’t hear a thing, sorry,” the girl pulled the sleeves of her sweater down to cover her hands.

“Could have sworn it came from up here,” he played dumb to insist a little more, but she was quick to shut him down.

“Must have been the wind or something,” she shrugged. “Thanks, I guess, but uh, I should go,”

“Right, yeah, sorry I bothered you,” he murmured and stepped back before she quietly closed the door.

Anthony didn’t get a minute of sleep that night. Mat chirped him for his slow reactions when he practiced in the morning, but he had bigger things to worry about. Was that girl really okay? Or did she just tell him lies so that he wouldn’t intrude?

None of it sat right with him, but he was limited in his options, so he promised himself he’d keep an eye out for her as much as he could.

.

A week passed before anything happened again.

Anthony was on his way home from a game, still dressed in his game day suit and ready to crash into his bed. Even the adrenalin of the win couldn’t keep him up for much longer. He was half asleep as he walked up to the building, his keys out to get through the main entrance. Now that he had cooled off, his legs ached and he almost groaned at the thought of the stairs.

“Two more weeks,” he muttered to himself.

He was about to continue complaining out loud to himself when he spotted her. If he had paid attention he would have noticed the couple arguing way earlier. The man had a tight grip on her forearm, and he didn’t even notice the way her eyes flickered over to Anthony as he continued speaking.

“I told you not to fucking-”

“Everything okay?” Anthony spoke up loudly enough to startle the man.

“Mind your fucking business.” He turned around, but the hockey player was taller and obviously stronger, so he didn’t even look at him.

Instead, he stared at his upstairs neighbour and waited for her to answer.

“Fine,” she rubbed her forearm, soothing the red skin. He nodded in response but didn’t make a move, his bag still hanging over his shoulder.

“We’re not done.” The other man grumbled when he saw Anthony had no intention of walking up to his apartment until they moved too.

He stomped out, the noise matching what had resonated in the corridor the first night Anthony heard them fight.

“So, am I at least going to get your name?” He walked towards the stairs with her, letting her walk up first.

“Carrie,” she told him, taking the stairs two at a time. Anthony cursed in his head as he kept up with her, his legs burning from all the skating and a nasty fall.

“Well Carrie, if you ever need anything, I live right here, okay?” He motioned towards his door and she nodded.

“Thanks,” she glanced down at the floor as she said it, not even waiting for his reply before dashing for the stairs and heading back to her own place.

.

The next morning was nice for Anthony. The weather was beautiful, he didn’t have practice, and all he had to do was go for a walk and get himself a nice coffee to enjoy his day off. The park near his building was a little crowded, it was a Saturday after all, families walked with kids running back and forth, people walked their dogs, others jogged.

The little kiosk at one of the intersections didn’t look like much, but Anthony had found out the day he had to move here that their coffee was some of the best in the city.

Carrie seemed to know that too, because he spotted her a few feet away on one of the benches. She was alone, taking in the way the sun shone through branches and onto the grass.

“Can I sit?” Anthony asked, and she looked up at him.

“Sure,” She slid over to make space on the bench.

“I don’t mean to overstep,” he began while racking his brain for the right thing to say. “And I don’t need to know whatever it was that happened when I heard that noise, or what was going on last night, but if you ever need absolutely anything, my door’s always open for you.”

“It’s fine I swear, he’s not as bad as it seems,” Carrie dismissed him and he scoffed.

“Well not as bad doesn’t mean ‘not bad’ so even if you just need a friend or whatever, I’m around,” he reiterated to make sure she wouldn’t hesitate if she was ever ready to ask for help.

“Thanks, Anthony,” she felt the corner of her lips itch to curl up while he leaned back.

“Not running away today?” He took in the people moving in front of them, resting his paper cup on his thigh.

“Not today,” Carrie smiled and took another sip of her coffee.

.

Only one more week before Anthony could move out.

Some of his things were still packed, a few boxes were stored in his garage in his new building, others were stacked in his spare bedroom and the rest would have to be repacked this weekend for him to finally vacate this apartment. He was excited to settle into his new place, he was somehow enjoying the whole decorating thing.

The only thing that bothered him was leaving Carrie. What was he supposed to do, leave her there and never come back? He couldn’t just turn his back with what he knew. She was the only thing on his mind day and night. Anthony couldn’t remember his dreams in the morning, but he was often convinced they had been about her.

The one thing that definitely wasn’t a dream was the loud knock on his door that night. 4:32am. It had to be Carrie.

Anthony jumped to his feet with a groan and rushed out of his bedroom. “Fuck,” he cursed as he slammed his shoulder into the door frame, not slowing down for a second until he reached the front door.

He threw it open and Carrie stumbled in, shaking and sniffling. Her arms were wrapped around herself and she hurried to make sure the door was closed.

“What happened?” Anthony’s eyes widened when he took in her panicked state. She barely looked up at him and cried harder, so he realised now wasn’t the time for questions. “Hey, hey come here,” he pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her. “You’re safe, it’s okay, you’re safe here.”

Carried leaned against his chest, biting her lip and shaking with quiet sobs. Her whole body was trembling, Anthony was the only reason she was standing, so he slowly walked over to the couch with her in his arms and sat down. He had managed to hit a light switch on his way to make a warm light illuminate the living room.

“Sorry, it’s so late,” she eventually whispered, but he pulled away and shook his head.

“Don’t apo-” Anthony started but cut himself off when he got a good look at her face. “What happened?” His tone was nowhere near soft this time, his jaw was clenched and he was ready to run up the stairs to break her boyfriend’s face.

A purple bruise was blooming on her cheekbone, and the skin had split so a little bit of blood seeped out of the wound.

“I-” Carrie tried to talk, but another sob shook her chest and she looked down instead, hiding herself.

“Carrie…” he reached out for her hands. “Did he do this?”

“Yes,” her answer was barely above a murmur, and he took a deep breath to calm down.

“Let me take a look,” he cupped the uninjured side of her face and guided her to tilt her head until the light hit the forming bruise on her cheekbone. “I’ll find something to put on that, okay?” Anthony dropped his hands and she avoided his eyes.

He found everything he’d need in his bathroom pretty easily. He was used to being injured, so he came back to the living room with a cream for the bruise and an ice pack.

“Tell me if it hurts too much,” He said as he sat next to her and pushed a little bit of the product out on the tip of his fingers.

Careful not to press too hard, Anthony rubbed it over the bruise and made sure it was mostly absorbed before holding the ice pack to her face. It wouldn’t really ease the pain but it would at least reduce the swelling.

“I got it,” Carrie took it from him to keep it to her cheek.

“Okay, you need anything else?” He let her gather her knees up to her chest, resisting the urge to pull her into a hug again. He wished he knew how to comfort her, but she clearly needed her space.

“I’m okay, thank you,” she shook her head no and focused on slowing her breathing. It was hard with the mess in her head after everything that happened. She felt weak and pathetic, she had never been so vulnerable in front of someone, and maybe it was time she opened up but she couldn’t bring herself to say anything more.

“Is he still upstairs?” Anthony probed, trying to figure out what to do, at least for the immediate future.

“Probably,” Carrie shrugged, wiping tears out of her eyes.

“You can stay the night, I’ve got a spare bedroom.” He offered, written worry all over his face when she glanced up at him.

“I don’t want to be a burden to you,” she turned him down, but he wouldn’t let her leave when she wouldn’t be safe.

“Stop that,” he nudged her foot gently. “I’m not going to let you go back up there, just stay. Do you want tea? Chamomile is good for sleep,”

“Um, yeah, please,” Carrie gave in with a sigh. There was no point in fighting him, and deep down she knew he was right. Now that she had woken him she couldn’t leave and just let him worry.

“Be right back,” He put a hand on her knee as he got up and went to boil some water.

When he came back with both steaming mugs, Carrie had helped herself to the tissues on his coffee table to dry her tears and it looked like she had calmed down a little.

“Careful it’s really hot,” Anthony set the mug down in front of her.

“Thank you.”

They sat in silence after that. Anthony was done pushing, she was next to him and he was keeping her safe, he didn’t need more than that. The night had been traumatic enough for Carrie, so he didn’t want to add to it.

Small sips of burning liquid eventually turned to larger gulps of warm tea until both mugs sat empty on the table. Carrie had stopped shaking, and the heat of her drink had helped her warm up. The ice pack was mostly melted against her cheek now, but it was still cool and her cheek was burning underneath it.

“Wanna go to bed?” Anthony eventually whispered, pulling her out of her thoughts. She stopped staring at the black screen of the TV to turn to him, nodding slightly.

The bed in the guest room was made, and the sheets still smelled like fresh laundry. Anthony looked into the mostly empty closet for a few things, and while Carrie slid under the covers he brought an extra blanket to lay on top of it.

She settled quietly, curled for extra warmth while the melted ice pack sat on the nightstand. Anthony took it as his cue to leave, but he stopped once he reached the door.

“Carrie?” He turned to look at her, a hand on the door knob.

“Yeah?” She wondered what else he was going to say, and her heart warmed when she heard his words spoken with unwavering certainty.

“I don’t care what I have to do, but I’m not going to let that happen again.”

.

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[redvoid-40]

A Game for a Kiss

Don’t ask me where this came from. I’ve watched BSD a couple months ago and of course I got the hots for the feral rat-man. -.-

Anyway, slowly I came up with a little plot for an arc with some OCs (weird calling them OCs, when they’re all named after past writers but oh well) and even thought about developing it, but since I’m not in the mood to write a whole multi-chaptered fic, I decided to just write this interaction between Fyodor and my main OC for the BSD-universe, Mary Shelley. You know, as a treat. >.<

I know the fandom is super small, but I thought someone might enjoy this, so here it is! :)

Also, Fyodor might be OOC (it’s hard to get a full understanding of his character) but I see him as creepy-pretty, with no qualms in manipulating women in ways that border on dub-con. So... TW: some making out; Fyodor’s thoughts making it clear his morals are more twisted than a pretzel. 

Anyway, enjoy! :)

Part 1 / Part 2 (NSFW) / Part 3 (NSFW)

“How about a game?” Fyodor proposed, smiling from ear to ear as he moved a chessboard from the side table to the coffee table in front of them. It was small, with tiny and expensive crystal pieces that had a purely decorative role, but he had never minded playing with valuable and irreplaceable things before, so why start now? Much worse to die of boredom than to shatter a hundred-dollar pawn. “I heard you had quite the reputation at the Chess Club in Oxford.”

“It’s been a few years since I last played,” Mary admitted as placed her glass of anise-infused gin on the coffee table and reached out to touch the white king, as if she was caressing a long-lost lover. “Not sure I’ll be a worthy opponent to you, Mr Dostoevsky.”

“How about I give you some impetus then?” Fyodor asked, raising a sole eyebrow as Mary’s eyes shone with interest. “If you win, I’ll give you something. Something I know you want from me.”

Mary quickly pulled back, like a child caught with her hand in the cookie-jar. “You’re already doing so, and I’m eternally grateful for it. Helping me retrieve Adam and right my wrong is all I could ever hope for and more, Mr Dostoevsky. There’s nothing el-”

“A kiss.”

Fyodor’s smile widened and his eyes darkened as a pink dusted over Mary’s cheeks. Her dark eyes made it hard to discern her emotions, but if he were to guess, Fyodor would bet her pupils had doubled in size at his indiscretion.

“I can feel your gaze on me, Doctor Shelley. Every time I walk in a room, your eyes peruse my figure like I’m an appetising treat,” Fyodor spoke, feet planted on the floor as he projected his body forwards, elbows on spread knees and the fingers of his hands intertwined. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you are interested in me in a way that’s not entirely professional or proper.”

Mary reached for her lowball glass and quickly brought it to her lips, downing the rest of her gin in a way that also wasn’t professional or proper. Fyodor watched her throat move, amused and admitedly a bit impressed at the pace at which she was draining her gin, wondering if maybe he should have proposed a drinking game instead. Who would fare better, her with her gin infusions or him with his chilled vodka?

“... and if I lose?”

Fyodor blinked, lazily trailing his eyes up her chin, passing by her pouting lips, blushing cheeks and up to dark eyes that stared at him so attentively. Lips curled at the corners, he raised a single eyebrow, urging Mary to continue.

“If I lose the game, what would you demand as compensation?” She clarified, and Fyodor exhaled at how she pressed her thighs together beneath her knee-length, black skirt.

“I’m not sure,” Fyodor said. “Why don’t you let me decide later? If I win the game, that is.”

Mary’s eyes turned away from his, moving down to gaze at the empty glass in her hands as some luster in her eyes darkened into distrust. “I think I’ll pass on your offer, Mr Dostoevsky. A kiss for an IOU? Your proposition doesn’t sound fair to me.”

Fyodor retreated, letting his spine fall comfortably against the back of the sofa as an airy laugh left his lips. The woman wasn’t as foolish as he had expected, at least; despite admitting in all but words she was enamoured with him, her shackles remained raised, certain she couldn’t trust him as far as she could throw him.

Must be a woman’s intuition, Fyodor thought, remembering the looks he so often received from the fairer sex throughout his late adolescence and adult life. So many inviting smiles were thrown his way, only to morph into barely veiled jitters when he got close enough to touch. For all his years of manipulating the brightest of the brightest to have his way, Fyodor still hadn’t figured out how to lull women into unravelling themselves for him without promises of money - or some other stimulant - as reward.

“If I win I vow not to abuse my freedom, and will only ask for something of equivalent value to what I offer,” Fyodor proposed, lips relaxing in a smile he hoped Mary deemed trustworthy. “And if you feel I ask too much, you can deny me and I’ll give up my reward altogether. Does that sound fair, Doctor Shelley?”

Mary looked at him through lowered lashes and he could almost hear the gears turning in her head, lust and reason rotating in opposing directions in a struggle to decide.

“Fair enough,” Mary spoke at last, and placed her glass back on the coffee table. Her hand then moved to the chessboard and spun it around so the white pieces were close to her. “But I play white.”

Fyodor almost protested, but the smile Mary threw his way demanded enough endearment that he’d allow her this little bit of despotism just this once. 

He found he rather liked it.

---

To Fyodor’s surprise and satisfaction, Mary proved herself to be a worthy opponent. For the first time in years, Fyodor stood over a chessboard with furrowed eyebrows as he macerated the pad of his thumb between his teeth to the point he could taste iron on his tongue.

“Don’t do that. You’re hurting yourself.” 

Fyodor had just moved his knight when a hand seemed to appear out of nowhere and gently wrapped around his wrist to guide his thumb out of his mouth. Purple eyes narrowed, shooting up from the board to Mary, but his scowl melted into something almost benign at finding the woman hunched over the board, positively pouting. Her hand released his wrist, leaving an imprint of heat on his flesh despite not touching skin, and floated back to her, fingers twitching as they hovered over her pieces, debating their next move.

There was a brief knock on the doors before they opened and in walked Ivan, pulling Fyodor’s attention just in time to see the narrowing of his silver eyes as they fell on the back of Mary’s head. The glare disappeared as soon as it came, so when Mary turned around to greet the newcomer with a polite smile, he responded with an enormous grin and flamboyant mannerisms.

“I’ve come to check upon you, see if everything was alright,” Ivan announced as he stood behind Mary, silver eyes fixed on Fyodor with adoration. “It’s almost midnight.”

Mary’s eyes widened in surprise as she reached for the phone she had forgotten on the cushion by her side. “Oh my, there are twenty calls from Jane. I really should take this thing off silent mode.”

Fyodor’s jaw tightened as Mary’s focus shifted from their match to her phone. “Ivan,” he called with a firm voice that demanded to be the centre of attention again. “Please, let Doctor Shelley’s companions know she is safe and sound with me, and that we’re both occupied at the moment. Also, would you be so kind to have someone bring us something to eat? Something sugary would be best. I will have a drink as well. Vodka, chilled but no ice,” then he lowered his eyes back to the woman in front of him and smiled as he motioned to her empty glass. “Doctor Shelley, would you care for another?”

“Ah, I-”

“A gin for the lady, Ivan. Thank you.”

Ivan’s smile didn’t falter as he bowed his head. “Of course, I’ll have someone bring your drinks. As for sweets, I believe there are a few strawberry shortcakes in the fridge. Would that be to your liking?”

This time, Fyodor remained silent as he stared at Mary, giving her the illusion she had a say in this whole matter, that she could choose her treat in the way she couldn’t choose to refuse a drink. 

Mary’s eyes were glued to his and once again he noticed how her thighs rubbed together at his attention, leaving her phone forgotten by her side. Blushing, she craned her neck to glance at Ivan and nodded. “That would be lovely, thank you.”

“Very well. Someone will bring everything here briefly,” Ivan said, moving his eyes back to Fyodor. “If you need me-”

“We will be fine,” Fyodor dismissed, purple eyes fixed on Mary as he gave her a smile that showed too many teeth. “I believe it’s your turn, Doctor Shelley?”

Mary nodded, turning her gaze to the chessboard. Her hand hovered while her brain readjusted to their match, reviewing the last rounds as it calculated the best moves she could make. It took her only a couple of seconds to review their entire game and make her move.

“Good,” Fyodor said, right hand rising to his lips out of habit, only to stop midway as he felt an intense stare on him. When he looked up, Mary was giving him a look that quickly morphed into a smile when he aborted the movement. He snorted and smiled back. “Worried about my delicate fingers?”

“You’re the one who said you have an anemic constitution,” Mary replied, eyes dropping back to the board. “You shouldn’t hurt yourself; it might take longer than usual to heal.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Fyodor said, letting his eyes move up and narrow slightly at finding Ivan remained still behind Mary, staring at him with a doll-like smile on his face and wide eyes. “Ivan, our drinks?”

“Oh, of course! My apologies,” the man said before bowing theatrically. “I’ll leave you to your match. Good night!”

Fyodor nodded as Mary turned back to Ivan, throwing a polite “Good night, Mr Goncharov”, before once more focusing her attention on their game, waiting for Fyodor to take his turn. He grinned, purple eyes fixed on her as he made his move, enjoying the way Mary’s lips pouted as she concentrated.

He really was having fun playing with her.

---

The game came to its inevitable conclusion hours later, just as the sun was peeking over the horizon and the birds chirped outside the window. After a couple slices of strawberry shortcake and a few refills of vodka and gin, Fyodor let his body fall back on the sofa, smiling from ear to ear as he stared at the pouting woman in front of him.

“Check-mate, Doctor,” Fyodor purred, purple eyes darkening in satisfaction. 

Mary stared at the board for a couple more seconds, as if a solution to her defeat would present itself to her. But when none did, she sighed in acceptance as her forefinger gently laid down her king.

“Don’t beat yourself, Doctor. It was a splendid game; the best I had in years,” Fyodor commented.

“Thank you, Mr Dostoevsky. But your words don’t make defeat taste any less bitter.”

“I guess not,” Fyodor said. “Especially since I have to claim the spoils of my victory from you.”

Fyodor didn’t miss the glance Mary threw his way, clearly torn between enticed curiosity and rational diligence, clearly still wary that he hadn’t made his wants known before their game despite his guarantees. Those intelligent eyes clouded with lust made him lick his lips, and her breath hitched in response.

“I want… a kiss.”

Mary’s eyebrows shoot up. “What?”

“I promised to ask for something reasonable, didn’t I?” Fyodor mused. “What’s more fair than to ask for the very thing I offered?”

“But then… why did we play?” Mary asked, head dropped to the side.

“Well, I don’t feel like moving at the moment,” Fyodor said, letting his knees fall open as his eyes ran over the woman in front of him. “So, since you’re the one owing me a kiss, you come here and give it to me.”

Fyodor had never seen someone’s skin change colour so rapidly before, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the bright red that bloomed all over the pale skin on Mary’s cheeks and neck. Without thinking, he brought his left thumb to his mouth, nibbling gently on the soft flesh as he regarded the woman with his own sort of unprofessional and improper interest.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” she said, eyeing the contour of his lips around his digit.

“Come and stop me,” he replied.

Mary swallowed his words with the same relish she swallowed her gin as she stood from the sofa, taking a moment to straighten the fabric of her pleated skirt, before walking towards him with soft, elegant steps. She came around the coffee table, sparing a glance at her toppled king before her eyes fell on his widespread knees and ran up his body until they reached his face. And while Fyodor was used to such appreciative looks, he didn’t expect the soft smile she gave him when their gazes crossed; it was usually at this moment that women stepped back from him, frightened by the intensity in his eyes.

Mary sat down by his left, so warm against the side of his body, and reached up with both hands to pull his thumb away from the abuse of his teeth. She brought his hand down to her chest to examine the damage, pouting when she saw the pad of his thumb was red and swollen, with a small laceration that had just barely crusted over and still threatened to bleed.

Fyodor watched her through half-lidded eyes, exhaling deeply when she glanced up at him. From such close-quarters he could make out the limits between the black of her pupils and the brown of her irises; just like he imagined, her pupils were dilated to extremes, wary of and eager for him. The red on her cheeks subsided, leaving a light pink colour in its place that enticed him to run his lips over the skin.

With a small quirk of her lips, Mary glanced back at his hand and shook her head at the damage on his thumb, before bringing it to her mouth to kiss the wound. The touch was soft as a rose’s petal but still knocked the breath out of Fyodor’s lungs. His warm breath gusted over the top of her head, then hitched as a soft, warm hand laid on his cheek.

“That was not what I had in mind when I asked for a kiss,” Fyodor spoke, smiling down at the woman. 

A chuckle escaped Mary and once again she gave him that soft look he was unfamiliar with. Before he could taunt her further, Mary tilted her head and guided his face down, letting her lips ghost over a corner of his mouth before moving to the other, soft and sweet. Hypnotised, Fyodor’s eyelids fluttered shut as he relaxed into these teasing touches that, despite being feather-light in their delicacy, made heat rush in his veins like molten metal, erupting out of his heart to his cock and leaving a trail of feverish desire in his veins that demanded more. More contact, more kisses, more pressure.

Fyodor pushed forwards, folding his body over Mary as his hand reached out to grab the back of her neck, only to freeze mid-air as her cold air took the place of her warm flesh. Somewhere he heard an unholy sound, and only after he opened his dark purple yes to find startled brown staring back at him he noticed he was the source of it. He was growling.

In a fraction of a second, Fyodor wondered about the stage he had set for them. Had he misjudged her interest? Hadn’t he offered her enough drinks? How much did she need his help? How much did he need her and her companions? How far could he push? Was everyone in the house still asleep? If she screamed, would anyone come to help?

Brown eyes narrowed slightly and Fyodor swore he saw a glimpse of himself in them; of something aware, astute, and artful. It was there for a moment so short he wasn’t sure he had projected the connection, so before he could let his brain process it, he was once more being subjugated to that look. That nauseatingly soft look no one had ever given him before, and that he did not know what to do with.

Without words, Mary bent the rules of their game and took his turn from him, cancelled aggression with tenderness as she pushed him back against the sofa gently before swinging her leg over his lap to settle herself on his thighs, pulling a pleased hum from deep inside his chest. 

“May I?” Mary asked, hand playing with the flap of his ushanka hat.

Smiling, Fyodor nodded, and Mary pulled the hat off his head. The motion left his hair messy, drawing a giggle from her lips as she combed the knots away so gently he couldn’t help but shut his eyes and relax against the caresses. 

“Your hair is so soft,” Mary murmured, letting Fyodor smell the gin and strawberries on her breath. He felt her fingers dance on his face, collecting his long fringe to push it back and away from his features. “And you’re so beautiful.”

Fyodor’s eyes opened slightly, just enough so he could stare at the rosy lips hovering so close to his. His hands twitched by his sides, unsure where to go or how to touch. He was used to grabbing, pulling, bruising and scratching; not to soft lips or delicate touches dancing over his skin like her hands ghosted over the chess-pieces only minutes before.

Mary’s lips let out a delicious, trembling breath before moving towards him, avoiding his own mouth altogether to give a kiss on his cheek before moving to whisper into his ear: “You feel so tense. Relax.”

Easier said than done, Fyodor thought, turning his head to bury his nose in Mary’s long, black hair and breath in the scent of her shampoo - something citrusy and common that made him light-headed in a way he only felt when his anaemia got the best of him, causing him to black out and wake up stretched on a hospital bed, with an IV bag of O- blood connected to his arm. 

Still, he couldn’t possibly lose consciousness now, not with Mary’s warm body grounding him so sweetly, not with her breasts pressed against his chest and the heat between her legs trapping him against the sofa’s cushions in the best possible way. Gently, like everything she did, Mary finally laid her mouth over his, allowing a whimper to escape the back of her throat when he pressed against her, not as much as he would have liked, but enough to hold back the most violent aspects of his desires, for now.

At the contact, Fyodor’s passive hands took action, sneaking up Mary’s thighs and hips, before slipping under her blouse to rack his short nails over her naked back as he used his hold over her to press her heat harder against his cock. He half-expected her to pull back again, startled at his boldness, but Mary surprised him by letting out a delighted gasp as she tightened her grip on his hair and arched her back, pushing her breasts even more against his chest.

Fyodor took the opportunity and shoved his tongue inside her mouth, groaning as the taste of her invaded his senses. One of his hands danced over Mary’s skin, causing her to shudder as it tickled by her ribs before moving up to her-

“Oh, Dos! Are you in there? Why is the door locked?”

Nikolai’s happy-go-lucky voice breached the door’s barrier, causing Mary to pull back from their kiss, panting. Fyodor’s nails tensed over her skin before his hands relaxed again, dropping to her waist as he sighed and dropped his forehead against her collarbone.

“I guess your debt is paid, Doctor,” Fyodor spoke against her skin. “There’s work to be done.”

“Of course. I have my mission in a couple of hours as well,” Mary agreed as she pulled away to stand up on shaky legs. “It would be best if I got a couple some sleep before it.”

Fyodor glanced down at himself, at the wet spot on the crotch of his pants, and looked up at her through half-lidded eyes with a devil’s smirk. “Think you need a shower too?”

Mary blushed as she straightened her clothes in a modicum of decency. “I guess.”

Fyodor chuckled, but before he could tease her further, Nikolai’s loud voice invaded the room once more, making his eyes roll upwards in exasperation.

“Quiz time! How long until I force the door open? Two minutes? Two seconds?”

“I will leave you two alone,” Mary said. “Excuse me, Mr Dostoevsky.”

Fyodor nodded dismissively, but the look in his eyes was anything but uninterested. “I will see you later… Mary.”

The woman’s breath hitched at having her first name spoken with such heavy desire before she quickly made her escape, almost slamming against Nikolai when she unlocked the door.

“Good morning, Mr Gogol,” she said with a polite smile.

“Good morning, Mary!” He replied enthusiastically, pulling one of her hands to his lips. “What a treat to see your charming figure so early in the day! Don’t tell me Dos has summoned you at such ungodly hours to talk business?”

“Oh no, we were just having a match,” Mary said, pointing to the chessboard on the coffee table. “He wiped the floor with me.”

Nikolai took a few moments to examine the board and what he saw made him raise an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Really? Looks like a tight match to me,” he said, before turning to Mary. “Next time you should invite me so I can cheer you on! Gods, what I wouldn’t give to watch Dos lose a game…”

Mary chuckled and opened her mouth, but Fyodor beat her to the punch. “You wanted to talk, Nikolai?” He called, smiling tightly at the other Russian. “Come in and close the door behind you.”

“Hmm, grumpy,” Nikolai whispered, sharing a conspiratory smile with Mary as he once again kissed the back of her hand. “Lovely to see you, my dear.”

“You too, Mr Gogol. Have a good one,” Mary said before walking away, throwing one last smile in Fyodor’s direction.

Nikolai waved at Mary’s back as she walked away, closing the door once she turned a corner.

“You know,” Nikolai began in Russian, spinning on his heels to face Fyodor. Both men smiled, but the emotions they showed were something dark, almost cruel. “I believe this is the first time I see a woman in a room alone with you leave without tears in her eyes.”

Feet planted on the floor and knees spread, unashamed of his hard-on or the wet spot on the fabric of his pants, Fyodor hummed a little song as he reached for his hat and adjusted it back on his head. Satisfied, he reached forward and grabbed Mary’s fallen king from the board.

“Honestly, my friend,” he said, bringing the piece to his smiling lips. “I do not know what you’re talking about.”

[lisbonsteresa]

let me be very obvious and send you nace for the ship ask!

Do it for our besties, Nancy and Ace

absolutely i will besties!!

-

1. Who buys flowers for the other

I mean, Nancy does still owe Ace flowers from his welcome back party... (but also i love the idea of Nancy opening her locker at the end of a hard shift to find flowers Ace snuck in for her. maybe a little note too because ofc he would leave notes)

2. Who makes the other coffee/tea

Ace 1000% - he also makes Nancy lunches and will sit with her to make sure she eats whenever she gets worked up over a case

3. Who eats the most candy on Halloween

Ace (although Nancy will fight him for the fun size snickers) (between him and Ryan the Drew household goes through 4 bags of candy before they get halfway through October)

4. Who tries new recipes all the time

This is kind of a split - Ace sometimes plays around with weird food combos when the Claw's slow (Birdie's grilled cheese and peanut butter actually turned out to be one of his favorites) But Nancy got really into baking after she and Rebecca bonded while Ace was on his road trip, and they still trade recipes whenever she comes over for dinner

5. Who genuinely likes pineapple on pizza

ACE i'm laughing bc i really just tossed that idea into a fic and here it is again...if it comes up again i'm claiming it's canon Nancy absolutely hates it and refuses to kiss him after he has a slice (at least at first....her resistance usually doesn't last too long)

6. Who wears hats on special occasions

Follow-up question: does breaking and entering count as a special occasion? Because Nancy may or may not have knitted Ace his own b&e beanie (Ryan also bought them both Red Sox hats that time he and Carson took them to Boston for a game...it gave Ace major hat hair and Nancy teased him the whole ride home)

7. Who likes ‘90s R&B

Nancy - Ace doesn't have much of a taste in music other than the 70's rock cassettes that came with Florence (but he will listen to anything Nancy puts on)

8. Who likes long walks on the beach

Both - especially at night. Sometimes it's nice to just take a moment away from everything - without any familial conspiracies or spooky shit to deal with - and enjoy the silence together (they also spend a good deal of time on the bluffs. maybe they have their first kiss there. who's to say.)

9. Who buys wacky picture frames

Ace - he particularly likes the ones with big, obviously fake seashells glued onto them (Nancy's bedroom is starting to look like a boardwalk tchotchke shop but she can't bear to get rid of any of them)

10. Who compares themselves to fictional/celebrity couples

Oh, neither. For two people who toss out movie references with ease, they really have almost 0 pop culture awareness. (that being said, if George hears Bess call them the 'Jim and Pam' of the Claw one more time...)

11. Who can solve a rubix cube

Both. Ace can do it in just over a minute (and he's coming for that world record) Nancy can do it in 3 (but only after she peels off the stickers and cheats when no one's looking)

12. Who would wear Hawaiian shirts on vacation/during the summer

I mean.... (Nancy did borrow one of his after a beach day and he had to turn away and walk down to the water to keep his composure)

13. Who wears mismatched socks because they can’t keep up with the pairs

Nancy (unintentionally - she has too many other things to worry about) Ace (deliberately - it works with his style, so he stopped trying to keep the matches a while ago)

[2996-sana]

Seeking Arrangement - Rosé

Part 1

The pitter patter of the rain served as background noise for Y/N and Lisa who was sat on their couch munching on some cucumbers, eyes glued to the Kdrama playing on the TV. Y/N let out a dramatic sigh as she watches Ko Moonyoung and Moon Gangtae lock lips for the first time. The sound was not lost on her best friend who shot her a grin.

“Are you going all soft again, Y/N?”

Y/N rolled her eyes at the teasing tone in Lisa’s voice. This was not new as she was always on the receiving end of Lisa’s jokes about her being such a hopeless romantic. Though Lisa found this amusing about her best friend, she thinks there is strength in Y/N’s ability to believe in love after the shit her ex-girlfriend Suzy put her through. Could you really blame her? Being in love was without a doubt one of the best feelings in the world in Y/N’s book. For her, it was an overwhelming yet warm feeling that stretches throughout your whole body once it enters your life and leaves you feeling like you’re on top of the world (but its all fun and games until your partner cheats on you).

Despite this though, she was not in a hurry to find love. In fact, after the tragedy that was her last relationship, she just wanted to lie low and have fun for a while.

“Shut up. You’re lucky you’re in a stable relationship,” Y/N scoffs.

Lisa and her girlfriend Jennie have been together for 2 years now (3 years next month) and Y/N envied the love shared between the two.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. No one can resist you for too long,” Lisa tries to reassure her best friend, wrapping an arm around her.

Y/N grimaced, “Eh…I don’t really want anything serious at the moment. Especially after Suzy.”

Lisa pretends to gag at the sound of Y/N’s ex-girlfriend’s name, “I agree. Have fun and take it easy. You should like…I don’t know…find a sugar daddy or something.” They both chuckle at Lisa’s words, knowing she would never even think about it.

•

It was hours later on her bed while typing out a reply to some guy she matched on Tinder that she realizes how hard it was to find a worthy candidate to waste her time on. These boys lacked substance and were coming at her with the same pick-up lines. She wonders if they all got them at the same Fuckboy Convention. It didn’t help that she rarely matched with girls either.

She groans at the reply that came through.

Wyd tho? U tryna fuck?

“The audacity of these boys,” she mutters under her breath, closing the app.

As she stares at her ceiling zoning out, she remembers Lisa’s words from hours ago. A sugar daddy. She laughs at her best friend’s ridiculous idea. She could never.

Unless? No. It’s stupid. She doesn’t wanna give out any sugar AT ALL.

But she was bored out of her mind. For the past 3 months, she has been cooped up in her bed wallowing in self-pity while listening to the very suspicious sounds coming out of Lisa’s room. There were also only so many pep-talks she could give herself until she grew tired of her own words. It was this that fueled her to sit up and turn on her laptop. After all, she considered boredom as an invitation for her to find something that would raise her serotonin levels. And what is the value of life without a little fun? She owed herself the first few months of her breakup to relax and take care of herself after all the mental damage, but now she needed a little play. She needed both the loud and quiet joys of life, peace with a little bit of wild mixed in. It was needed to feed her soul.

She also couldn’t lie that she craved some sort of human connection and validation. Yeah, she definitely was not proud of that last one.

Y/N stared at the keyboard, not believing what she was able to type into Google.

How to find a sugar daddy?

What she found out during her deep dive in the wondrous world of sugar daddies and babies was the number one site to find one was called Seeking Arrangement.  

So that is where she found herself, blinking at the statement written in bold.

100% Free to Join!

To hell with it, she thinks as she begins to fill out the application.

30 minutes later, she nods in approval as she scanned through the photos she chose. She would totally hit herself up if she was a sad middle-aged man desperate for companionship. As she hits submit, she was met with pictures of men – and surprisingly women, although there were considerably more men – complete with their basic information.

Looking for a woman to spoil.

Looking for love.

Looking for a loving companion.

Looking for a good time.

It was nothing she didn’t expect to find at a sugar baby site but it was the net worth of the men and women displayed on her screen that caught her eye. She was almost tempted to message one of them but couldn’t find it in herself to do so. She rolls her eyes at the thought.

She spent hours researching and signing up for a sugar baby website and she still finds herself being stubborn about making the first move.

Glancing at the clock, she realized that it was almost 4AM. She decides that she was going to wait for someone to message her first instead. Besides it gives off the vibe that she’s hard to get and that’s always a little bit sexy, right?

•

"Y/N! Wake up! I made banana pancakes.”

Slowly opening her eyes and stretching, her foot meets a hard surface. The cold metallic feeling on her foot was enough to remind her of her antics 7 hours ago. She hides her face on her hands, sighing. Why did she think that was a good idea?

Once she was out of her room, she was met with the sweet smell of banana pancakes and nutella. She dragged herself to where the smell was most present and found herself in the kitchen where both Lisa and Jennie sat on the counter. Jennie threw a gummy smile her way while her best friend simply nodded at her presence, busy stuffing herself with her girlfriend’s banana pancakes.

“Vas happenin’, love birds?” she greets them with a faux British accent.

“What kind of dollar store Zayn Malik am I hearing right now?” came Lisa’s reply to which Y/N’s response was to smear Nutella all over her best friend’s face.

“Yah, Y/N!” Lisa whines as she hits Y/N on the shoulder.

Y/N gasps as she prepares to retaliate.

“Children! Stop it.” Jennie scolds the two. She was used to the duo’s playful fighting but she also knew it could go on for hours if she doesn’t put a stop to it.

Both were quick to stop but stuck their tongues out at each other.

Y/N grabbed her plate to return to her room. She glanced at the couple making sure they were preoccupied enough not to notice what she was up to.

You have 11 unopened messages!

A loose grin formed on her face at the notification. Not bad. She hurriedly opened her inbox to find the different men who deemed her worthy to reach out to.

It was all pretty tame, it being the typical greeting. She sighed, already bored. It wasn’t until she reached the bottom of her inbox where a small gasp came out of her. She sat up and read the sender’s name.

Rosé Park. A woman.

She excitedly clicked on the woman’s profile.

It only took the woman’s profile picture for Y/N to realize that this Rosé Park was the type of woman she fantasized about. For starters, she was a brunette and the woman was a blonde. She was a sucker for blondes. Who could resist a good brunette and blonde wlw duo?

Santana and Brittany. Rose and Rosie. Clarke and Lexa. Piper and Alex. Need she say more?

Basically, Rosé Park was a dreamboat. Something radiated from her pictures that Y/N knew rendered her irresistible to both men and women. She could outshine any of these men on the site any day. It also only took her profile picture to realize that the woman was a big deal. Her outfit looked straight out of the pages of a fashion magazine. Why would gorgeous and rich 25-year old Rosé Park want to talk to a normal and boring 23-year old like her?

Y/N composed herself, fighting back a smile, before returning to her and Rosé’s chat.

Hi, gorgeous. I passed by your profile and knew I had to talk to you. Looking forward to your response x

Y/N’s blush seared through her cheeks and for a minute she thought her face was on fire. She suddenly felt awkward, demure, and coy; even going as far as attempting to hide her rosy features behind her slim fingers even if no one else was around to see her. She blames it on the fact that an insanely beautiful woman complimented her. So naturally, it took her at least 5 minutes of over-analyzing every possible response for her to actually send one.

Hi there :) You’re one to talk. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.

To her surprise, three little dots indicating Rosé was typing appeared beside the woman’s picture.

Haha, cute.

Hmm what brings you to this site, Y/N?

The woman’s question made her pause. She doesn’t even know the answer to that. Was she supposed to make some shit up?

Um I was bored.

She facepalms herself as she hit send. Really? Your brain cogs couldn't turn fast enough to come up with a more interesting response, Y/N?

Y/N thought she blew it as 45 minutes has passed and no response from the blonde bombshell came. She internally cursed herself for her boring response to the woman. Rosé probably thought she was an airhead.

•

It was 10PM after binge watching another Kdrama with Jennie and Lisa that she remembered being left on delivered by Rosé. Her mood quickly sours as she realizes she ruined her chance at getting to know the beautiful woman. Thinking to distract herself with the depressing fact, she goes to check if any of the men messaged her back. Sure, a man could never fill the void of a woman but she really needed to talk to another human being besides Lisa and Jennie.

Y/N was apparently in for a surprise because what awaited her was a message from the woman.

Well, I hope to provide some sort of entertainment for you ;)

I’m not one to beat around the bush Y/N. I think you’re stunning and a good lay in bed. That’s a really good source of entertainment for the both of us, no?

Jesus Christ. She was not expecting that.

Y/N knew what being a sugar baby entailed but she was still brought to a shock at how blunt Rosé was being and so early on into the conversation. The thought of being with Rosé like that, being able to feel her skin against hers, the godly sounds that it would elicit…

Her private thoughts made herself blush. It seems like if there was anything Rosé was good at it was making Y/N blush. But her unholy thoughts about the woman didn’t create a cute soft pink tint on her cheek like a healthy outdoors glow, it was beet red. Y/N figured that Rosé was probably highly practiced at the art of seduction. Rosé’s looks although a masterpiece sculpted by all the deities that exist… well, nothing so pretty could possibly harm you, right? But it was that combined with Rosé’s choice of words that had anyone she chose to even focus her attention on jumping through hoops to please her. So, she swallowed her pride and forced herself to play it cool, putting on a mask that she thought would appease the woman she really wanted to impress.

I like the way you think, Rosé. I like to think I make great company in bed too ;) Give me a time and place and I’ll be there.

•

That message was what lead Y/N to the 21st floor of Seoul Forest Trimage Towers, one of Seoul’s most luxurious and exclusive apartment complex, standing outside of Rosé’s penthouse two days later.

All the reasons not to go through with it and just leave came flooding in. Y/N can feel the soft panic growing inside her body as she wills herself to breathe in and out, not quite ready to ring the doorbell just yet. But before she could finish her fourth exhale, the door was opened to reveal the woman who has not left her mind ever since signing up for that damned site.

“I grew tired of watching you hyperventilate so I thought I’d do you a favor and open the door for you.”

Y/N almost choked on air as she looks at Rosé for the first time. The pictures on her profile did not do her justice at all. The woman could have graced every billboard or magazine in the city and she wouldn’t even question it.

Y/N did not say anything - did not know what to say. She was conscious of the smirking woman standing before her, dressed in a white dress that stopped just above her knees.

“Do you wanna come in, Y/N?” Rosé’s voice was dripping with amusement, eyebrows raised. Shyness wasn’t usually Y/N’s gig so what the hell was going on?

“Yeah, sure.”

Once she entered the threshold that Rosé called home, she immediately noticed how fancy and expensive everything was. She was immediately drawn to the large window overlooking the whole city. The glass was so clear that it looked like a high definition screen at the movie theatre.

Rosé quickly picked up on her fascination, grabbing hold of Y/N’s hand and leading her to the glass window. “Cool, huh? I picked this unit because of the view. The city below is so far away it's like another world. This penthouse is my cocoon and the window, well, the window shows me as much detail as I want to know.”

Y/N could only stare at their joined hands and then to the woman beside her, intoxicated by her words. “It’s beautiful, Rosé. I’d kill to wake up to this every way. You have great taste.”

“Yeah I do have great taste huh?” Rosé looked her up and down, biting her lip before chuckling. (Y/N swears she saw the gates of heaven open at the sound)  

•

A few hours later after a candle lit dinner prepared by Rosé herself and a bottle of wine, Y/N finds herself straddled in the living room couch being kissed roughly on the neck as pure pleasure runs through her entire body.

“Fuck,” she pants as she feels Rosé grind on her. Unable to control herself anymore, Y/N holds Rosé’s head in her hands and pulls her into a fiery and passionate kiss.

“Someone couldn’t wait,” Rosé smiled against their lips.

With a laugh, Y/N pushed Rosé down on the couch, switching their positions, not breaking the kiss. Y/N’s hands slowly work their way around her body, tugging on Rosé’s dress.

“Off.”

Rosé sat up slightly, allowing Y/N to pull down the zipper of her dress, feeling skilled fingers unhook her bra. Rosé tears it off herself before reattaching their lips. Immediately, Y/N’s hands found itself on Rosé’s breasts as she tugged on her nipples.

Rosé gasps against her lips causing Y/N to pull away, making her way down and sucking on the skin surrounding Rosé’s breasts before soothing it out with her tongue.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you but I’m not complaining,” Rosé giggles but whimpers midway as she feels Y/N’s tongue latch onto her nipple.

“Probably the wine.”

Y/N couldn’t help but think that their bodies fit together as if they were made just for this, to fall into one another, to feel this natural rhythm.

Y/N’s hands drop to Rosé’s thighs, caressing her from above her panties. Rosé moans at the feeling of the soft silk rubbing against her as Y/N’s mouth still busied herself with her nipple.

“Oh my god.”

Rosé grips her hand tightly onto Y/N’s hair as she feels the wetness between her legs. “Take your clothes off. I wanna see you.”

Y/N stops devouring her nipple to pull her shirt off. Rosé drops her hands to the zipper of Y/N’s jeans pulling it down and slipping her own hand in.

“Good to know I’m not the only one dripping wet,” she teases.

Before she could begin her sweet torture on Y/N, she feels hands finally moving inside her panties and her mind went blank.

Fingers toyed with her nub making Rosé bite down on Y/N’s shoulder. Thumb continuing to rub Rosé’s nub, Y/N slipped two fingers in. Rosé moaned so loud that Y/N swears it was enough to get her off.

Pumping her fingers around Rosé, Y/N felt a smirk making its way on her face. She couldn’t believe she was on top of the godly woman seeing her face all scrunched up in ecstasy. She feels Rosé pulling her in for another heated kiss as she picks up her pace inside the woman. With every moan and whimper coming out of Rosé’s mouth, Y/N feels her own wetness.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Y/N mutters under her breath.

She could feel Rosé getting close as the woman’s grinding on her fingers became sloppier and her breaths became more uneven. Burying her face on Y/N’s shoulder, Rosé tries to stifle her moans as she finally comes undone.

Y/N slowly leaves feathery kisses up and down Rosé’s neck as she waits for her to come down from her high.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N.” she hears Rosé trying to catch her breath. “I honestly wasn’t expecting you to take charge tonight.”

“Maybe I’m just full of surprises,” Y/N grinned, pressing a kiss on Rosé’s temple.

Rosé slowly sat up as Y/N leaves her place on top of her. “I guess you are.”

They both sat in silence as they picked up their clothes scattered on the floor before putting them back on. Rosé was the first one to break the ice as she reaches for her purse on the wooden table. It was at that moment Y/N remembered why she was even there in the first place. Disappointment stabbed through her like a knife. Somehow during the duration of the night, she made herself forget that she was there because of an agreement made online. As if she was there spending the night with a new lover, both milking the feeling of a love that just arrived. The night started out like a sweet melody of a blackbird -- full of promise, freshness, and newness to come. Now it sat like a cold cup of coffee waiting to be drained away. All of a sudden, she felt dirty and used and all she had to blame was herself. Rosé’s words from a few hours ago during dinner echoed through her head.

I signed up because I have no time for relationships. I’m just too busy for that. It saves me the hassle of meeting new people and having to get to know them, y’know?

And truthfully, no, Y/N didn’t know. She remembers Lisa telling her she loves like a puppy - devoted, playful, and trusting. So, no, Y/N didn’t know. She just didn’t roll the way Rosé rolled.

“Here you go,” Rosé reached out with a wad of cash in her hand. “Go treat yourself. You deserve it.”

It was the way Rosé said it, so confident and smug, that Y/N knew that she was not Rosé’s first rodeo. The woman sounded like she does it so often that she just didn’t care anymore.

“How many girls receive this same amount of cash?” Y/N laughs quietly and she hopes it didn’t sound as bitter as she felt.

“A couple a week,” Rosé grins so nonchalantly it makes Y/N stomach churn. “Why?”

“Nothing,” Y/N awkwardly shifts in her place on the couch. “Um, you really don’t need to. I’m not looking for cash.”

Rosé actually looked shocked at the girl’s statement. “I’m a little bit lost here.”

“I signed up because I was bored and curious not because I’m low on money,” she laughs keeping an unamused tone. “I really didn’t expect to reach this far ahead. So, you can keep your money Rosé.”

Y/N got up and started walking towards the door. She was halfway there when she felt Rosé grab her wrist.

“Why do you sound angry? Don’t act as if you didn’t know why I invited you here, Y/N.” Rosé looked at her confused. “We met through Seeking Arrangements for god’s sake. I thought we had a good time.”

Rosé did have a good time. Aside from the mind-blowing sex, she was impressed by Y/N’s ability to be present during a conversation, always having her own two cents to offer, which lead to a lot of fun and meaningful discourse all throughout dinner. She had never met a woman through that website as enchanting and beautiful as Y/N. Y/N was a smart woman who was good at sex and Rosé liked that. A lot. So why is she being difficult?

Rosé saw different emotions flash through Y/N’s face before settling on a look of defeat. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I did have a good time.”

Y/N stepped closer to Rosé. “I loved being here with you and money was never on my mind tonight. Maybe that’s why I reacted that way. I’m sorry. I joined Seeking Arrangements for fun because honestly…I was lonely and bored and looking for some sort of human connection and that’s what you gave me tonight. I just got lucky that you reached out. That was all I needed I promise.”

She offers Rosé a genuine smile before turning to leave once more. “Have a good rest of your night, Rosé.”

Y/N hears footsteps behind her as Rosé opens the door for her, a smile planted on her face. “You’re something else, Y/N.”

Before the door closes, Rosé speaks once more. “It’s Rosie now by the way.”

The last thing she saw was the woman throwing her a wink before the door finally closed.

[midwinterblinder]

This is me trying

Chapter 3: “That’s what happened."

After taking a moment to breathe, Benny had made his way into the hall where he joined Townes at the table where Beth is playing. Just as he finally manages to push the talk with Josephine to the back of his mind for the time being and focus on the game, his attention is pulled away again as whispers start among the spectators. He frowns and looks at Townes to see if he knows what’s going on. “Why is everyone whispering?” He asks.

Townes doesn’t say anything, but he points his pencil in the direction of a table on the other side of the room, where Josephine just sits down and says something to her opponent who was no doubt ready to leave after she took so long to show up. Benny’s lips part slightly as he watches her shake hands with the man across from her. He didn’t think she’d come back considering how distraught she looked earlier, not to mention the harsh words he spat at her. Not that he’s sorry about them though. She left him without giving him a proper reason, didn’t speak to him for years and then says she’s sorry. He scoffs again just thinking about it. The worst part is that he still really wishes he knew why she left. Was it him? Did he do something? No, no he’s not going down that rabbit hole right now.

Benny is pulled out of his thoughts when the people around him start clapping and he turns his head back to the board only to see that Beth has won. After shaking hands with her opponent Beth stands up and joins him and Townes. “Who’s playing over there?” She asks them as she points to the table Josephine is sitting at, which is now surrounded by the people who were watching Beth’s match just a moment ago.

“Josephine Howard and William Burns.” Townes answers and Beth nods before she makes her way over. Townes follows after her and Benny takes a deep breath before following as well. If he’s completely honest he’s curious to see her play.

The three of them watch the match without speaking a word. Josephine starts out a little hesitant, while Burns confidently moves the pieces across the board. But as the game continues, Josephine gets more confident and Burns is taking longer and longer to decide what to do until he eventually has to admit defeat. The audience applauds as the two players shake hands, after which Burns immediately stands up and walks away.

Josephine remains seated as she keeps her eyes on the board. The people leave one by one until just Beth, Townes and Benny remain. Benny eyes are glued to the side of Josephine’s face. Watching her move the chess pieces around the board brought back memories from happier times, but he’s quickly pulled away from those memories when Beth speaks up. “That was impressive.”

Josephine shakes her head. “I could have beaten him a lot faster.” She says with a sigh, the disappointment clear in her voice. “He’s an average player at best.” She adds as her eyes leave the board for the first time since shaking hands with Burns and move to the empty chair across from her. “If it takes me this long to beat someone like him, this is going to be a long weekend. It never used to take me that long against people like him.”

“I thought you didn’t expect to perform like you used to.” Benny speaks up and Josephine’s head immediately turns to look at him. The look on her face tells Benny that she had no idea he was there.

“I don’t.” She answers. “But that doesn’t make it any less frustrating.” She adds as she stands up, her eyes still on Benny. “So I hope you’re right about a few games being enough to get me back into it.”

She holds his gaze for a little longer, not quite believing that he stood there and watched her play. It’s a good thing she didn’t know, because it could have had an effect on the way she played. After what he said earlier she expected him to avoid her from now on, but it looks like she was wrong.

Benny continues to look at her even when she breaks their eye contact and looks down at the ground. “Well, I’m rarely wrong.” He says quietly, but Josephine hears him loud and clear.

*****

Beth and Josephine play, and win, two more rounds that day. Tomorrow there will be another two rounds and then on Sunday the final will be played. Beth easily won her games and Josephine seemed to get better with every move she made on the board.

It’s a little after dinner when Beth decides to take a walk in the garden of the hotel. The weather is still pretty awful, but it has stopped raining for the first time since she got here.

As she walks to the back of the garden she sees Josephine sitting on a bench as she stares at the fountain she’s sitting across from. Beth realises this is her chance to ask Josephine about Benny and makes her way over. “Do you mind if I join you?” She asks.

Josephine tenses up when she hears Beth’s voice. She was deep in thought, replaying a memory of several years ago when she sat on the edge of the fountain she was just looking at. “Not at all.” She gestures to the empty space next to her. “The bench is still a bit wet though.” She warns Beth, who shrugs and sits down anyway.

“A lot of people say it’ll be you and me in the final on Sunday.” Beth start, trying to find a way to dive into the subject of Josephine’s relationship with Benny. She watches the woman next to her, who hums at her words. “Benny seems to think so as well.”

This causes Josephine to sigh. “Benny has always seen more in me than there actually is.” The words leave her mouth before she has considered who she’s talking to. Beth is Benny’s friend, for all Josephine knows they’re more than friends, so she really shouldn’t be talking to Beth about this. “Forget I said that.” She shakes her head before looking at Beth with what she hopes is a convincing smile.

“Why?” Beth asks as she watches Josephine’s face closely for a reaction. She sees something shift behing Josephine’s eyes, but she doesn’t get an actual response. “You know, Benny won’t tell me anything about what caused the tension between the two of you.” She goes on and Josephine turns her head to look at the fountain again. “I’m not sleeping with him, if that’s the reason you won’t tell me.”

Josephine can’t deny that she feels relieved when she hears Beth’s words, but she’s quick to push that feeling away. She left him, he can sleep with whoever he wants, she reminds herself. “We dated and then we broke up.” She tells Beth. “That’s what happened.” She adds before standing up. “I should get some sleep. Goodnight, Beth.”

“Goodnight.” Beth answers as she accepts that she won’t get anything else out of Josephine. She’s not sure what she was expecting. She only met Josephine yesterday, of course she isn’t going to spill her whole backstory straight away.

[offtopicoverload]

What do you think the female lis’ families are like? I feel like only the guys talk about their families, with the exception being Talia talking about her parents and brother I don’t think any of the other girls do at all

hi anon thanks for the ask, hope my headcanons make sense

Talia:

pretty nuclear family, an older brother, her mum and her dad

her older brother’s maybe 4 years older or so, not enough that they never saw each other but enough that they didn’t really meet in school or anything

and that’s definitely why she meshes so well with the Jake even though they have like 6 years between them, shes used to the gap and hes really similar to her brother anyway, both goofy but sweet when they need to be

she definitely really close with her mother, i know its mentioned that they look just like each other, but i think that dialogues universal for the S1 LIs

and her mum owns a salon, right?

thats definitely why she takes such good care of her hair, her mother always did when she was little and encouraged it, complimenting her on it and styling it whenever she wanted

and she worked at the salon when she was a teenager and it was summer, working the front desk or cleaning up, sorting products, that sort of thing

its definitely a different story with her dad, hes pretty traditional and didnt take her coming out very well

it ruined things between them for a while and made it hard for her to visit, she only saw her brother at his place and her mother at the salon, but after LI, if shes with MC, he eases up a bit when he sees how happy they are

shes so open about her sexuality, especially on the show, because she doesn’t want any other kids to feel alone, she knows how much it sucked when she was a teenager

if she ends with MC, her mothers there at the finale and just showers MC in compliments and comments about wedding bells to mess with Talia

and her brother loves teaming up with MC and Jake to tease her 

the first time he met Jake, Talia thought they’d get married on the spot cuz they just meshed so well

her dads wary at first, but once its clear that MCs not going anywhere, maybe he catches them talking about him or something and just being vulnerable with each other, which is something Talia never was with him, he starts welcoming MC more, buys her flowers or something the next time they visit and annoys Talia because he didnt get any for her

Allegra:

ive been headcanoning for a while that she has a really big family and an awful relationship with them

her parents got divorced when she was little, maybe 3 or 4, they both remarried, her mom got divorced and remarried again, so she has a ton of half and step siblings, but no full

because there were so many kids in whatever household she was staying in at the time she kinda got lost in the crowd, which is why shes so desperate for attention on the show, she never got any when she was younger

and no matter what happens on the show, her parents dont call her or come to the finale, the only person that says anything is the one step sibling shes close with

they're about the same age, maybe 8 months to a year apart, and were glued to each others side when they were tweens

but they live really far apart and her step sister couldn’t make it to the finale, so they barely see each other which makes them drift apart a bit

if MC runs away with her after the reunion, she gushes to her step sister and they get closer again, to the point that her sister moves in with her for a job a year or two later, maybe right before quarantine if MC doesn’t so they don’t go insane

MC and her sister get on well and always call her Leggy just to watch her get mad, and they’re the only two people that can get her to calm down when shes pissed, her anger being another side effect of being ignored as a kid

the only way she got attention was if she threw a fit, and eventually that frustration just stuck around

but she gets better when she gets closer with her sister again and after the backlash from the show dies down, which it does pretty quickly when her and MC announce their relationship since she was the fan favourite

she never really introduces MC to her family, it just doesn’t make sense to her, but MC drags her along to a few weddings and holiday parties until Allegra’s dad introduces himself to her like its the first time four events in a row

she gives up after that, and Allegra’s perfectly fine with it, she’d rather keep their relationship between them anyway

Marisol

like Talia, she has the same family dynamic - an older brother and her parents

but her brothers only a year older and their relationship is a lot tenser

her dad always encouraged competition between them - if one got a good mark on an exam, the other was expected to match or do even better, if her brother got an award, Marisol was expected to get it a year later, that sort of thing

she doesn’t really talk with her brother outside of formal or family events, there’s still a lot of tension from their teenage years between them, but Marisol’s too proud to admit it, and her brother is too

and she’d never admit it, but the whole reason she’s in law school is because her father wanted her to, and she was just lucky that she enjoyed it

and again, like Talia, her dad didnt take her attempt at coming out well, he just flat out denied it, told her she’d meet a nice guy and settle down, that is what just a phase, all that shit

neither her mother or brother stuck up for her, which pissed her off a bit and just made things worse

her mother was never that involved in her life, never seemed that interested unless she was getting perfect marks and competing in dance competitions

and because she was so focused on her studies and work, she never had many friends and has honestly always seen them as a waste of time

its why she has no problem shitting on Lottie’s girl code, to her it just never made sense

so most of her friends end up being from the show and MCs friends if they’re together, and shes not big on family events, her immediate family isn’t either

but she is really close to her abuela on her mum’s side and an older cousin on her dad’s who’s gay and shes always related to 

she got really excited to introduce MC to them, and her abuela made a whole array of food for Marisol, MC,  and her abuelo and her abuela cooed over MC for ages

her cousin bought them drinks and made them tell him stories from the Villa, and afterwards pulled Marisol aside and told her he was proud and approved of MC and it made her really mushy and she hated it, MC wouldn’t let go that she cried in the cab for ages

her brother and her mother were never particularly rude to MC, but her father definitely was cold and distant and disrespectful

she got pretty pissed after that, telling MC off for ever encouraging to go and shouting about why that kind of thing was the exact reason she kept her distance

her and MC definitely has some issues after that for a while, and she shut her dad out until he gave a halfhearted apology, but her cousin and abuelos helped her feel better about her family situation

Elisa:

her parents aren’t together anymore and her mum had custody of her most of her life, even though she struggled to raise her and her sister

she didnt know her dad that well until she was a in her late teens, but regardless of all the lost time, they still have a good relationship

makeup and art was an escape when she was younger, and even when her mother was exhausted after working multiple shifts, she always encouraged her and helped her improve or just told her she loved it

her mum was her biggest supporter when she started the whole influencer thing, and her favourite thing to spend her money on is things for her family, like flowers for when she visits her mum or a new phone for her younger sister

they’re seven years apart, so she never had that close of a relationship with her when she was young, because what 13 year old wants to hang out with their annoying 6 year old sister

but once she got a bit older she started taking her to the movies and shopping to bond and encouraging her own art

her sister loves music, and even if she cant relate to it directly, she always does her best to support her

she even got kassam to make her sister a mixtape after the show and give some tips on mixing, and if MCs a musician she always asks her to give her sister lessons or something

introducing MC to her whole family all at once was one of her favourite things to do, she took them all to dinner and bought MC a dress and everything

her parents loved MC and laughed at all her jokes, and MC nearly joked on her salad at a story her dad was telling 

and even though her sister was pretty quiet, she told Elisa how much she liked her afterwards

they all start a family game night that is Elisa’s favourite thing to post about all week, and even though her parents haven’t been together since she was 7 or so, they still get on well and now that her dad’s more comfortable being there even though he’s not with her mum, hes more involved in her sisters life

her job and her Elisabees are crazy important to her, but she’d drop all of it for her family, even if she doesn’t seem super sappy

Lottie

shes an only child for sure, but with a few cousins shes decently close with

her relationship with her parents isn’t perfect by any means, but she still gets on with them

they encouraged her art even if they made some odd comments about her being alt that rubbed her the wrong way, but they mean well

there was a couple years where Lottie thought they’d get divorced, because they were arguing about finances cuz her mum went back to school and they lost her income, but when she started working as a nurse they were able to get back on track

her dad’s a bloke and loves sports and cars and all that, but hes also big in horror movies and is the one that introduced her to it

her mum hated all the gore, but her dad would let her watch it with him when she was out of the house

she always goes home for Christmas no matter where shes living, but has her own traditions for New Years and Easter

her aunt and uncle always host a big dinner and her dad drives two hours to get there, and she always spends the drive listening to new music and planning new makeup looks to test out

she has a ton of cousins because each of her parents has 4 siblings, but their ages are all so spread out that shes only close with a few of them and swaps stories from the year with three of them

they all lost their shit over MC when she brought her to their Christmas Eve dinner, hugging her way too much in Lottie’s opinion and telling her as many embarrassing stories as they could think of

her mum spent the car ride there trying to connect with MC, and they actually got on pretty well, but her dad seemed to click with MC even more for whatever reason, giving her a beer when they got back to Lottie’s parent’s house and turning on Lottie’s favourite slasher film for background noise while they talked

her dad made MC swear that she’d come back next year, that they weren’t allowed to trade between MC’s family for Christmas and Lottie’s, and MC agreed with a laugh as Lottie’s head was in her lap, watching the movie

Hannah:

she has a huge traditional family

three older brothers, two older sisters, and a younger brother

she grew up in the country and her mother had horses that she always loved to spend time with cuz i love her but she was 100% a horse girl

her parents never had any problems, were always happy and sappy and that was the only type of relationship she saw growing up, so before Love Island she didn’t really understand that relationships could be bad and how to deal with that

two of her older brothers and both of her sisters are married, her brothers and one sister have kids, again super traditional and happy, which only further reinforced these fairy tale ideals she has

she loves her nieces and nephews, but never felt like an aunt, more of an older cousin for whatever reason

her oldest sibling is her brother, they’re 13 years apart and he has four kids already, hes been married since 21

her oldest sister got married the oldest at 25, and shes always been worried she won’t match up to them, which was a huge motivator to go on Love Island

shes closest with her middle sister, who’s 23 with no kids, but she still has a nice house in the suburbs with a big yard, still crazy nuclear

her whole life has been spent around this type of tradition, and it was really hard for her to break out of it after Love Island

Hannah’s youngest brother is still only 15, and hes a bit of a black sheep - hes alt and dyes his hair and draws tattoos on his arms during school, and she was never close with him before Love Island, but after she comes out as some kind of queer, he comes out as gay and nonbinary(he/they) and they get really close for once

he gets in a fight with their parents when they’re 17, and he runs to Hannah’s place, driving multiple hours to get there and moves in with her after a few weeks

they stay with her until they graduate uni with a degree in education, getting a job at a school and telling all their students that his sister was on Love Island and her girlfriend’s really cool

MC and him are her biggest encouragement to break from the mold her family set, both so her relationship can thrive and to be a good role model for her younger sibling

she struggles with fitting in with her stereotypical family and siblings that all have multiple kids and nice houses, but she still loves her little mishmash of MC, her sibling, and the constant friends that cycle through their flat - Lottie, Priya, Chelsea, Gary sometimes even, Ibrahim once or twice as hes on a golf tour

Lottie loves her sibling and sometimes does makeup for them, and Chelsea always shows up unexpected to hang out with MC and redecorate their house but Hannah hates it because she likes all the memories her clutter has, even if MC calls her a hoarder sometimes

she had so many hand me downs growing up that now she has her own place, she loves filling it with things that are for her and MC and only them and has a really hard time letting go of things, always reasoning that they might give her inspiration to write or something

AJ:

shes an only child too, which made her dad treat her as much like as son as he could

her parents struggled to conceive, so once they used IVF to have her they didnt want to go through it again

her dad was super excited when she was interested in sports and is her biggest fan, always showing up to every single game and driving her to practices before she moved out, though she still doesn’t have a car cuz she hates driving, its too much pressure

her dad would watch games with her and coach her during off seasons, her uncles a football coach and used to get them tickets when he could, sometimes letting her train with his team when she was a teenager

her mum didnt like how hard she pushed herself, but was still supportive of how much she loved it 

her mums a mathematician and always helped her with her homework because she awful at maths, while her dad would try and teach her history or edit papers until her mum had to step in and correct him

when she came out as bi and later gay, they didnt even bat an eye, her mum making her pride color cupcakes and her dad maybe even being excited that he could point out cheerleaders when they were watching games

her mum didn’t quite understand when she wanted to go on Love Island, but her dad thought it’d be a laugh and further enforced her “just have fun” attitude

but her parents are both crazy happy when she wins with MC, making a banner when AJ first brings her home

she thought her dad would crush MC when he started hugging her, and her mum made an entire cake, biscuits, cinnamon rolls, and more sweets that she made them take home

her parents always make her and MC come over for dinner on Sundays and she started noticing the extra effort they always went to - her dad actually dressing nice, the house was super clean, the dog always had recently been given a bath

even though she knew her parents supported her, seeing all that really calmed her nerves about bringing home a girl, and made her coming out as a gay a lot easier

MC and her alternate between their family’s for holidays, and her parents each invite their brother and their families every time, and after their third holiday at her parents, they bought her and MC a dog

her and MC definitely have a pretty traditional family life, married after a few years with a nice house, going as far as to adopt a kid or two when AJ stops playing professionally, her parents always closely involved with their grandkids

Disclaimer - I don’t know if Yasmin or Lily make mentions of their family, so I’m just going with what I think

Yasmin:

her mother passed when she was 12, and her and her younger sister were raised by her dad

he wasn’t always the best dad, sometimes he struggled to make time for them with work, or sometimes he struggled to connect with them, but it was never anything too bad

she was always super close to her sister and parented her as she was growing up since they have a 9 year difference between them

her sisters her biggest fan and always makes her send demos and work in progresses so she can listen to them on repeat, and whenever Yasmin writes a song specifically for her she loses her mind

all her friends love Yasmin’s solo music and Enchanted Husband and she brags nonstop

Yasmin figured out she liked girls pretty young, around 10 or so, but only came out when she was 17. she didnt want her sister to ever feel alone or isolated if she ended up being queer too, so she tried to always be open about who she was

her dad sat her down when she bought a pride flag and had her explain everything to him step by step, and he gave her some space for a few days, but then he offered to take her to pride when it came around 

he doesn’t talk about it with her much, and she knows he doesn’t fully understand, but he offers his support whenever he thinks she needs it

her sister absolutely fangirled over MC the first time she met her, hugging her and not letting go until Yasmin nearly pulled her off MC

her dad hugged her too but was far more reserved, hes quieter like her, and tends to keep his distance, whereas her sister has no problem shrieking and making a scene in a train station

later that night her dad pulls her aside and tells her he likes MC and thinks shes a good fit, and her sister has no problem saying how cool MC is, even when shes in the room

her sister and her dad always ask for tickets when shes touring nearby, and MC always offers to take them to dinner before the show, and the three of them get on better than Yasmin expected

she thought her dad might be too distant or her sister too excitable, but even if she’d never say anything, seeing them all get on makes things easier

when her sister gets older and moves out, their dad moves closer to Yasmin, even though he never says exactly why, and there’s a few years where her sister and her are both to busy to meet up, but MC makes them hang out together and then get dinner with their dad when their all in town

MC tends to be her reminder to slow down, and after that dinner she cancels the rest of her tour and takes a two year break in which her sister starts spending weekends at Yas and MCs, their dad visiting often too

Lily:

she has three full brothers and shes the only girl, her parents are divorced and her dad remarried while her mother stayed single

she has a step sister from her dad’s remarriage, but they dont have much in common and didnt grow up together, her parents only split when she was 15

two of her brothers are older than her and her oldest is the one shes closest with, with a gap of 7 years between them

hes an engineer and into cars too, he helped her fix up her first car and helped her pay for college

her youngest brother is only a year below her, but they were never close, he was never that interested in playing in the mud when they were kids

hes an art and english double major and still lives with their dad, hes closer with their step sister than Lily, but there’s no bad blood or anything

her other brother is a middle ground, three years older than her

he’s an accountant and used to drive her around before she could herself, they bonded over a few small mutual interests like a tv show they would binge together and just staring a space together since they shared a room, her younger brother and step sister across the hall

her dad wasn’t crazy active in her life and she doesn’t know her step mother, but her mum worked from home when she was younger and had custody on weekends

she babied her younger brother and always scolded Lily for being a tomboy and it bothered her a lot when she was little, until her older brother started encouraging it

her brothers all love MC, even her youngest, and they all try and bond with her in a different way

sometimes Lily goes home just to find a note that one of her brothers took MC to a movie or dinner or somewhere else, and she wants to be annoyed with them for it, but she likes the validation

she never officially came out, so none of them saying anything or criticizing her is really comforting, knowing that something so trivial doesn’t matter

her mum was a little shocked by the show and MC, but she tries to be polite and eventually comes around, inviting MC to go shopping to bond

her dad has no problem, her step mother being a little confused but not concerned, and her step sister doesn’t care, just nods at MC the first time she meets her

Lily tends to keep her distance from her family, especially when her older brothers find partners and start families, but is fine going to events, sometimes its nice to see her brothers and catch up

[lovelysugawara]

_Distasteful Pursuit_

Kuroo x OC Fanfiction

Plot:

Hikeji Yuna got rejected by the Team Captain of Nekoma Volleyball Club, Kuroo Tetsuro. But Yuna still tries to support him despite the annoyed look he's giving to her. What will happen when she suddenly becomes the team's manager?

Chapter 2

“What? Volleyball’s team manager? Yuna, are you crazy?” Like what you expect, Ayane is already on her beast mode as you two go home.

“Yes. I can’t decline it, Ayane.” you tried to explain.

“Then just be direct, tell them that the volleyball team captain doesn’t like you!” she said.

“But that would look like, I told them Kuroo-san rejected me, right?” you felt so nervous thinking about what will happen tomorrow.

It makes you imagine things like, for sure the team won’t like you as their manager.

“Well, forget what I say. I mean be direct by telling them you’re busy, way busy that you can’t attend practice at all.” Ayane continues to think of a tough excuse.

“But, Nekomata-sensei asked me personally, I can’t say no.”

Ayane’s heavy sighed can echo the whole street right now.

She stops walking, so do you. Ayane taps your shoulders.

“This “ you” will never change. You can’t always accept any request from people, especially if it’s not good for your emotion. Kuroo-san clearly said that he doesn’t want to see you, and now you will be the club’s manager. You know how the manager and captain will have to work together as a team, right? Now, what will happen? I’m just afraid that you’ll be hurt again. You’ve been hurt a lot Yuna. You don't deserve any of it.”

You almost want to cry right now. You know well she’s right. And you’re very thankful for that.

Ayane clearly wants you to be careful and guard your heart.

She witnessed how wrecked you are after the confession and how people started bullying you.

You know she’s really worried about your well-being.

“Thank you Ayane, I’ll be careful. Don’t worry.” you smiled at her, showing how you’re confident about your decision.

“Yuna, just promise me one thing,” she said.

“What is it?” you asked.

“That, once you feel unwanted and you don’t want to stay there, you will go. Without thinking. Okay? Then we can explain to Nekomata-sensei why you will quit.” she sternly asked me.

You smiled at her and nodded.

Ayane then smiled bitterly. And you know she’s not really fine about it after all.

She just surrenders to whatever your decision is, and hope you’re not doing the wrong thing.

So the next day came so fast.

You are awkwardly standing at the door of the volleyball gymnasium, wearing your P.E uniform and your hair is in a bun so your eyes are pretty well shown.

Some first-years are looking at you and whispering at each other.

Why is she here?

She didn’t stop following Kuroo-senpai?

Didn’t he reject her?

You almost decided to turn your feet away but remember how Nekomata-sensei asked you for a favor.

This reason holds you back.

“Yuna-san, I’m glad you came.” the older coach gently smiled at you.

“Nekomata-sensei, Naoi-sensei.”

“Relax for this afternoon Hikeji-san, and just watch the team on their practice. We will introduce you to them, but for sure the third years know you already.” Coach Naoi said to her.

You swallowed hard, knowing who those third years are.

Your heart won’t calm as you enter the gymnasium.

All eyes are on you as you stand behind the two coaches as they explain what is happening.

“From now on, Hikeji Yuna-san will be your acting manager. She will help us prepare for the upcoming training camp and of course some of the manager's jobs. Yaku-kun, please teach her everything she needs to do.” Coach Naoi said to the team.

You tried to not look them in the eyes and want to at least hide from the coaches at the back.

Not until, “Hikeji-san, greet your team now. Come here.” he’s asking you to come up front and greet them.

You didn’t have a choice, despite your wobbly feet, you have to walk 3 steps forward to greet them.

“H-hello, n-nice to meet you.” you bow a little bit as your greeting to them.

Some weak greetings from the team can be heard.

“Wow, guys where’s the energy?” Coach Naoi said.

You silently step back as the meeting continues.

You know that you are already unwelcome, not wanted.

You also can’t deny the sharp look, Kuroo giving at you. It makes you feel uneasy.

The whole afternoon is very awkward for you. You stand behind the scoring board and carefully watch the team on their practice match.

You can’t help but admire the team’s flexibility and solid receives. This is not your first time watching them play, but you find them admirable inside the court.

You even watch how Kuroo manages to block the spiker’s hit several times in this game.

You’re very much dazed.

“Hey, acting manager , that’s our point! What are you day-dreaming about?!” someone even emphasized the words acting manager and that brought you back to your reality.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” you flip the score.

You can hear a faintly Tsk from somewhere, and you don’t dare to look where it came from because you know who it is.

Several stray balls from the other years are sometimes successfully hitting you on your shoulders. So you step further away from the court and decide to refill their water bottle at the back of the gym.

You sighed heavily as you started to refill the water. You haven’t done anything but you felt tired already. The truth is, you don’t know how to interact with lots of people in your surroundings. The gym is full of boys and you know that your presence is making them uneasy.

So going out of the gym might help them to relax a bit.

“What are you even doing here?”

Suddenly Kuroo is standing behind you.

You looked at the tall guy who is towering over you.

“I-I’m refilling the water. Do you want-?”

“I know, I’m not an idiot. But why did you decide to be the manager? Did you specifically ask Nekomata-sensei for this? When will you stop?”

Your heart started to tighten. Kuroo is accusing you of something you didn’t even do.

“N-no, I didn't!  They asked me to-”

“Enough! Stop it! Even if they asked you, you should have just declined it. You’re making me more irritated with you.” Kuroo walks away.

Leaving you once again questioning yourself if your decision is right.

You hold tight the water bottle because you feel so hurt and about to cry.

It’s like it’s piercing your heart bit by bit. And you can’t comprehend what you’re feeling right now. And your eyes are almost teary.

Then someone grabs a bottle you’re holding.

“K-Kozume-san!”

You almost jump out seeing Kenma.

“I’m sorry Hikeji-senpai, but I’m a bit thirsty. I’m sorry for grabbing it so suddenly.”

You smiled, secretly thanking Kenma for arriving at the very right moment and you instantly forgot the need for crying.

Kenma on the other hand is shocked seeing you genuinely smiling at him.

Making him blushed a little.

“I-it’s okay, Kozume-san.”

“Hmn.” Kenma walks back to the gym.

You just smiled and thought that it was your first time talking to Kenma and he knows your name. Probably he knows you too, because of Kuroo.

That might be the first time you smiled the whole afternoon.

And you continue to refill the water bottles.

Days passed.

Despite what Kuroo told you before, you continue to be the team’s manager.

You don’t have any problem when the coaches are present, the members follow you as their manager and senpai for the lower year, but as the coaches leave they will return to how they treat you.

They ignored you totally like you didn’t exist.

“Hey, did you have the scores yesterday? I need it.” Kuroo approached you suddenly.

“I-I got it. Here.” you give him the score notebook.

After getting it from you, he carelessly opens it and on his other hand is another score notebook.

You saw how his eyes went from your notes to the other one he’s holding. He’s comparing your scores to that one.

“K-kuroo-san, do you happen to doubt my scores?” you felt offended by how he openly not trusting you about this stuff. You felt a bit weird asking him.

“Obviously I wanted to be sure you know what you are doing.”

He gives the scores back to you and walks away without waiting for you to answer back.

You followed him and you saw how he gave the notebook to Yaku. Yaku is clearly annoyed for whatever reason.

On the other side.

Yaku is already annoyed.

“Kuroo, you don’t have to do that. She knows what she’s doing. Did you forget, he helped me before and I can say she’s a dependable kind of person. Why do you keep insisting she’s incapable of being our manager?”

“Because I know she’s only here to make my world miserable!” Kuroo irritatingly said.

“Wow, how confident! Look at you, you thinking her world only revolves around you? I can’t believe I’m hearing this!” Yaku walks away from Kuroo.

Kuroo annoyingly throws his towel on the floor.

Trying to understand his own feelings.

Meanwhile, after the practice that day.

Some 2nd year whispering to each other while they are mopping the gym’s floor.

“Let’s ask Hikeji-senpai to do this for us.”

“Yeah, sure. I heard she can’t decline any request.”

They keep on laughing about their idea.

Like you always do, you help to tidy things up inside the gym. You silently move without talking to anyone. Well, they don’t really talk to you.

Every meeting, you awkwardly stand behind the coaches and carefully take notes of what did the team talk about.

As much as possible you don’t want to have any chances to talk to Kuroo, since he’s not very much welcoming.

Having feelings and being rejected by the same person who keeps on denying your existence is not really an easy feeling.

You don’t like it at all.

You remember what Ayane told you, that if you don’t like it here, you should quit.

But you find yourself glued to the volleyball gym. Your love for volleyball doesn’t waver. Seeing the Nekoma team makes your heart race when they are at the match. Admiring every move and attack they show.

Since you gotta stay until the training camp, you decided that you can bear it a bit longer.

“Hikeji-senpai,” a kouhai called you.

Actually, you are quite surprised when someone from the team approaches you. And you can’t help but feel happy about it.

You smiled at them, almost making them hesitant to talk to you.

(a/n: Well of course you are pretty to begin with.)

“What is it?” you nervously asked them. Still worried they might find you weird asking them.

“S-senpai, we need to go home early for our project, and we can’t finish mopping the floor.”

You know well what they wanted you to do. But being happy because they approach you to ask for help, you know you can’t refuse them.

You automatically get the mop from their hands. “Okay, leave the cleaning to me.”

You don’t care if you will mop the whole gym, you’re happy about making progress with them. You can finally talk to them.

You look around seeing fewer people who take the net and the balls to the stockroom, and you start mopping the floor.

Until you notice that you are now alone in the gym. No one is left behind.

You sighed heavily because you have to finish it alone, and the gym is not even that small.

While the third year passed by the gym.

“I really hate that career meeting, I told them I’ll pursue volleyball.” Yaku said annoyingly.

“Why is the gym still open? Did they forget to close it?” Kai, who usually closes the gym, asked them.

Yaku, Kuroo, and Kenma are walking together.

“Tsk. I’ll definitely scold them tomorrow!” Kuroo angrily walks towards the gym.

Yaku and Kai only shrug their shoulders and laugh a little about his reaction.

Then Kuroo suddenly stops at the door.

“What is it? Did you see a ghost or something?” Yaku said to him.

Kuroo didn’t answer, so they just looked inside.

Then they saw you, still mopping the floor of the gym.

“What? Why is she mopping the floor? Did the first year just let her do that?” Kai said.

“She won’t be done in no time. Let’s help her.” Yaku suggested.

“Nah, forget it. Let her do it.” Kuroo walks out of the gym.

Kenma just sighed.

Then they follow him as he walks away.

“Are you serious? That is so personal Kuroo!” Yaku is still trying to dig a hole in Kuroo.

“She wanted to do it, just let her!” Kuroo shouts at him and he walks away.

“What’s his problem? What do you think?” Kai said.

“Argh!!! I just hate this drama between the two of them. I’m going home!” Yaku stomped away.

Kai shrugs and follows Yaku.

“Yuna, let’s go home.” Ayane peaks at the door of the volleyball gymnasium.

“Oh, Ayane, I guess I’ll finish this first, you go on ahead.” You answered as you continue to mop the floor.

“Wait, what? You mean, you’ll mop the whole gym? Are you crazy?” Ayane is already walking towards you.

You stop moping and you look at her.

“W-well, I need to do this before closing the gym so,”

“You don’t have to! It needs at least 3 people to finish it all. Did they ask you to do this? Where is the jerk Kuroo Tetsurou?!”

“Eh? A-ayane! Shhhhh!” You tried to cover her mouth while she tried to shout inside the gymnasium.

“Yuna, we will go home, whether you like it or not! Just leave it! Come on!”

Ayane tried to drag you out of the gym.

“Ayane, l-let me at least take care of this. Okay?”

Ayane let you go.

“Well then, I’ll help you. So we can go home!”

You laugh at her. But you’re also thankful because you’re already tired of mopping the whole gym.

The training camp will be 3 days from now. Will you survive as their manager for the week?

***

A/N:

Hi guys, thank you for reading. This fanfic have no definite update time. but I’ll make sure to update weekly too whenever the i got time.

Thank you for still reading my content. Love lots!

Distasteful Pursuit is also available on AO3 (Archive of our own) you can check it there too. 

[the-cat-at-the-theatre-door]

Gus and Skimbleshanks for the character ask!

All of them?? Oh, gee, okay um...

I'll tell you what - I'll answer all of them for Gus for now, and then perhaps answer them all for Skimble in the future (depending on interest level).

Alright, let’s see...

Gus

Already answered 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10 here!

1. Something this character is truly proud of

Gus is extremely proud of his accomplishments throughout his life, and extremely proud of how he worked up from nothing to get where he is - and he will humbly boast about these accomplishments until the cows come home, ask anyone in his proximity.

But, if I may take a moment to be as sappy as a possibly can, what Gus is *most* proud of is his legacy - aka, his children and his grandchildren. Though he never thought he’d be the nurturing type, and he still really isn’t, there is not a soul alive that has come into contact with Gus the Theatre Cat that does not know of his son and daughter, and later, his group of grandkittens. That’s why he’s always lamenting at the young ones that they “think they’re smart” when they do the bare minimum when he *knows* that they’re able to accomplish more than that.

2.Who they want to please the most.

Gus is, quite literally, a crowd pleaser. He’s a showman, so of course he is. He wants to please his audience, his director, his fellow castmates...all at once. He is also very proud when he manages to please his fellow cats or people in his family - for making a name for himself, for getting somewhere, for reaching such prominence as just a *cat* for crying out loud. He’s made it, and that makes him feel happier than anything else considering where he started.

When kittens tell him that they want to be like him someday, he positively beams.

3. Who depends on them.

His children depended on him for the longest time, but he kinda blew it with that one for a good chunk of their lives - and by the time he had started to come around, they were already independent, and it’s one of his biggest regrets that he didn’t come around sooner.

Nowadays, no one really depends on Gus for physical things or favours, but there are many members of the tribe that depend on him to listen and to talk to them. Gus has a way of spinning situations simply so that they make sense, an eccentric conversation style that is both pleasant and distracting, and is able to read the room *extremely* easily. It’s a little spooky how easily Gus can pick up on a situation, with very little conversation, and how smoothly he can transition conversation/interaction style if necessary. Gus can be rather blunt and honest to a fault, but you’d be hard-pressed to find better life advice than from him.

(If we go with my Gus and Bella are siblings, theory, she used to depend on him a lot when they were young, since their parents also weren’t around much - what goes around and all that - to protect her and watch her)

4. What they would do if they had one month to live

Well...I mean...what is he doing now?

Sorry. A younger Gus would have said he would press on with whatever he was doing at the time. He’d want to be back in the pub with his friends, late into the night. He’d love to get a final dramatic monologue in, a final curtain call; die doing what he loves instead of caught up in a bed.

Now, well, Gus is well aware - somewhere in the back of his mind - that he’s not going to live a long time. He knows the end is nearing. All he really wants is quiet - after a life lived out loud, if he could just collect himself enough to sort everything out one thing at a time, and quietly work through each day he would be grateful. Bored to death, perhaps, but grateful.

He’d like to maybe see Bella again, before he goes.

5. A cherished personal belonging.

The blanket Gus began to wear around his shoulders used to be where his wife and children slept and where his grandchildren currently play, and it has a whole cacophony of different scents attached to it. He hates being parted with it. When things get overwhelming for him, he buries himself in it, curling himself under a literal blanket of familiarity - even if he isn’t quite sure *why* it’s familiar.

11. This character’s favorite piece or pieces of clothing.

He has a pair of gloves that his wife also made for him that Jelly has patched over the years because they’ve worn thin. She ended up having to cut the fingers off and hem them when they became more hole than glove.

He also has a scarf given to him by one of the theatre patrons from an earlier show of his - a little girl with her mother who was only truly fascinated with the cat on stage, and didn’t understand why they didn’t give him a costume as well. She was helping by giving him hers.

12. How they sleep.

He snores and mutters in his sleep, to the point where he seems to have entire conversations with himself. He’s also rather fitful. The kittens are wary of sleeping anywhere near him, since he has been known to jerk awake suddenly and kick out in alarm (and doesn’t he feel guilty the few times that *has* caught a few of them in the ribs or the legs)

13. What kind of parent they would be.

Well he *is* one, and the answer to that question would be not a *great* one, but not a *bad* one either. Gus is a fun parent, a loving parent, a proud parent, but he isn’t the best parental figure. He isn’t so great with discipline, nor is he great for showing up to anything on time.

I’d say Gus’ strength as a parent came from his unfailing willingness to go along with whatever scenario his children would cook up - from pirates to knights and princesses to aliens - Gus was always willing to jump into the game should they invite him to play with them. And you know he threw his entire self into it, too.

14. How they did in school

Gus would have a been a “graduated from Juilliard” kinda guy, if the timeline matched up - or if he could have afforded it.

As it stands, he didn’t really finish school. Not necessarily out of any inability to do so, but a complete and total lack of interest. He held odd jobs mostly, to support his family, which led him to quietly quitting school. He figured anything he wanted to learn would be just as good coming from direct experience or working under a mentor than a formal education - and it got him where he is today, so all in all not bad.

15. What cologne or perfume they would use

There is a very specific one that my grandfather uses that smells exactly like something Gus would wear - it’s that standard older gentleman scent - kind of like...Aqua Velva but softer - that is slightly on the pricy side, but not ridiculously so. He doesn’t bathe in it, but he uses it religiously.

He *used* to dip into a Chanel perfume that one of his actress friends gave to him after one of their shows wrapped, that he *kinda* thought just smelled a lot like lightly spicy rubbing alcohol but felt it polite to at least...use it - when that finally ran out and he curiously checked on its price...he never even looked at it again.

(”Ridiculous...I may as well douse myself in a bottle of gin it’ll give off the same effect!”)

16. Their sexuality

Gus is bisexual and biromantic, with a preference for Queens, but he’s had several trysts with Toms as well. He was quite the paramour in his younger days.

17. What they’d sing at karaoke

Gus finds karaoke to be absolutely *dreadful* in that he legitimately does not see the fun in it OR its purpose.  And that’s coming from a cat whose whole job it is to perform.

So count him out of that. He’ll monologue on the spot for you, though, if he is so inclined.

18. Special talents they have

Gus used to be extremely good at remembering people’s names - even after just one introduction or overhearing it once (Jelly gets that from him).

He's very good at patter songs and tongue twisters. He also used to delight his kits by speeding through the alphabet backwards.

He can clock a person's personality within literally seconds of knowing them - and he's usually right.

He plays piano and was the one who taught Jelly to play. He can’t so much anymore with his shaking hands.

19. When they feel safest

Gus feels safest in the light when he's able to see everything. He never got stage fright, per say, but would get waves of nerves when he was directly in a spotlight - with the rest of the stage dark around him...like he was being swallowed. He would get nervous to move out of it - the lighting techs needed to be *very* on the ball if the director called for a total blackout (he only really trusted two of them).

20. Household chore they hate the most

Cooking. 100%. Can't stand it. Does not know how the oven works. Cannot adjust to picky palettes well. Definitely a take out dad.

21. Their fondest childhood memory

(Sibling AU) When Gus and Grizabella were children, they put on “Cinderella” (which Bella insisted would be changed to “Cinderbella” because of course. Gus goes along with it because *whatever fine his mother told him that he was the big brother and had to be nice to her*) as one of their very first collaborative plays together - they were around 8 and 6 respectively. They had already put on dozens of little skits and read-throughs and imaginary games, and they loved doing it.

Bella *refused* to be anyone other than Cinderella and Gus refused to play the prince (because it meant he had to *kiss his sister yuck*), so instead it was really “Staring Grizabella as Cinderella and Asparagus as *literally every other part except for Prince Charming*.- they spent hours trying to figure out how the quick changes would work, and making script changes, and hanging sheets behind them for curtains, and Bella glued together a tiny little suit for her teddy bear who would play the prince instead.

All in all, it went about as well as they could have expected - a bit of a disaster. They put it on for their father, who watched with tired eyes and a patient smile, and applauded enthusiastically at the end - and they both decided right then and there that that was what they would do for the rest of their lives.

He considers that his first stage credit.

22. How they spend their money.

Honestly, Gus’ money spending habits are very strange. He will buy himself a new car *once* and then run the thing into the ground until it physically can’t run anymore, won't buy new clothes until you can see through the old ones, will *always* weasel his way out of paying for alcohol at a bar (he has *many* tricks up his sleeve for this one), and he will refuse to spend his money on other frivolous things, but you bet your dollar that he is literally always shelling out money to his grandchildren just because - saying it would be their little secret, and one time bought a bird house because it "spoke to him" but never bothered to hang it up or actually use it.

23. What kind of alcohol they drink

Well, he used to be a “whatever I am given I will drink and I will probably drink *too much*” kind of guy, but since cutting back he’ll moreso partake in brandy or gin, but only in very small doses.

24. What they wish they could change about themselves

There are several things that Gus wishes he could change from the past, but the one thing he wishes he could truly change about himself in the present is how much of a burden he feels he’s become to the others (he's not but he feels that way). Gus is a proud cat, he will admit that. And with that pride comes mourning of his own independence.

Sometimes, when Jelly is helping him do things - like button up his coat or helping him to eat - he just looks at her forlornly and murmurs “My poor dear. You shouldn’t have to do any of this.”

He also wishes that there wasn’t a period of time that his familial relationships were so strained because of him putting his career first, but he can’t really change that so much as try his best to make up for it.

25. What other people wish they could change about them

Gus has the tendency to be a little...let’s say *long-winded*. And a little hypercritical. He holds himself to a high - near-impossible - standard, so he also has a bad habit of holding others to that same standard.

[crackedoutgiraffe]

To The Moon and Back

A/N: This is from a work I have on AO3, this is chapter 3 from Spencer’s POV. My username is giraffecrack. GIF by @cassidyandtuliplove​

Word Count: 1,775

Warnings: Fluff

SPENCER’S POV (italics represent Spencer’s thoughts)

That morning was like any other morning. I woke up at 7 am, put on my regular sweater vest and tie. I fixed my scruffy hair and brewed my first cup of coffee. We had gotten back from a case a few days before so it was a given that I needed to bring my go-bag, pre-packed with plenty of ties and sweater vests. As I sat down at my table, I pick up the book I was reading last night. I didn’t get a chance to finish it yet. Just then the clock struck 7:30, I grabbed both my briefcase and duffle bag and headed to the train station. I never liked driving. There was too much risk involved and I never had the chance to learn when I was 16. With my mom in her own world and me away at MIT, it was just easier to take the metro. 

My walk to Union Station was the same as it always was. Boring. I found a way to make it fun though. Counting the number of people with black hair one day, brown the next, and blonde the day after. The ride to Quantico always gave me extra time in the morning to relax. I would just sit on the seat closest to the door with my bags on my lap and a book in hand. When I finally got to Quantico, it felt different. There was something new, but I couldn’t tell you what it was. I got into the elevator and noticed what was different, there was someone new. She had y/h/c hair and carried her self very confidently, but I had never seen her before. Just as the doors closed she started to walk toward the elevator. I could feel her happiness radiating through the entire building, she had a smile that made you feel like everything was going to be alright. She also had the most beautiful y/e/c eyes. The doors closed, cutting me off from a literal ray of sunshine. 

The entire elevator ride she occupied my mind. Her smile, her hair, her eyes. The elevator doors opened and I went right to my cubicle. I set my stuff down and went to grab a cup of coffee then headed back to my desk. Morgan, Prentiss, and JJ were congregating not too far from my desk. After organizing a few papers, I went to join them. Just then, JJ pointed out someone new walking in, we were used to having new people coming and going from the office, but this was a welcome surprise. It was her. The mystery goddess from the lobby. She started walking toward us but made a detour for the stairs and entered into Hotch’s office.

“I wonder what that is about,” JJ asked.

“I don’t know,” Morgan said. “I do remember Hotch saying something about interviews for a new member of the team, but I thought he said he wasn’t going to go through with it.”

Dear God, please let her be a new member of the team. We all sat in anticipation, waiting for Hotch to come and say something to us. We saw them get up and head for the door. My heart was racing. Can you please shut up. Hotch and the new girl walked down the hallway to Rossi’s office. I couldn’t help but stare, and she stared back. 

As the minutes passed by we were all still waiting for Hotch to come back and tell us what she was doing here. Finally, she and Hotch left Rossi’s office, she had the biggest smile on her face that showed her perfect teeth. They started to walk down the stairs and head toward the four of us, so we all scrambled to seem busy as to not face the wrath of Hotch.

“Glad to see you guys are working,” Hotch quipped. “I’d like to introduce you to the newest member of the BAU team, Dr. Y/N Y/L/N.” 

Bless the Lord. JJ was the first person to go and greet her. 

“Jennifer Jareau, but everyone calls me JJ,” JJ said with a kind smile. 

Then Prentiss went up, “Emily Prentiss, but everyone calls me… well, Prentiss,” Y/N seemed surprised at something.

“It’s lovely to meet you both” she replied shaking both their hands. 

The next to greet her was Morgan, “I’m Derek Morgan.” She seemed to be flustered by Morgan’s presence. Of course, she would be attracted to Morgan. 

“Do you prefer Derek, or do you have a nickname too?” she quipped. They all laughed at her surprisingly funny joke. 

“Just Derek is fine. Do you have a nickname, or would you prefer me to give you one?”

“Surprise me.”

I was next. Don’t fuck this up. “Hi, I'm Dr. Spencer Reid,” I said, extending one arm for a handshake. She looked at me weird. What was she looking for?

“Dr.?” you said with a smirk, reciprocating his handshake that went on a bit too long. 

“Dr.” I replied still not letting go of the handshake. 

 Hold on, what was that? Reid stop staring you look weird. I couldn’t stop staring. Now that we were closer, I could get a good look at her eyes. They were y/e/c with little flecks of green toward the middle. She smelled fantastic, like roses and lavender. Everything about her was perfect. Her face, her body, and from these first few seconds I’ve known her, her personality. 

“But we just call him pretty boy,” Derek said, hitting me on the back, releasing us both from our trance. 

“Ok, pretty boy,” she replied, looking him up and down while messing with her hair.

“Round table meeting in 5,” Hotch announced right on queue. JJ and Prentiss started to approach her and lead her away and out of the bullpen. She was perfect. The way her hips moved when she walked. The way she smiled seemed to make all the problems in the world go away. The way her hair bounced and flowed on her shoulders. And to think she couldn’t be any better, she was a Dr. Finally someone on the team who could match his intelligence.

“Oh, it looks lit pretty boy has a crush,” Morgan announced.

I turned around in shock, “I do not.”

“Then what’s with the staring,” he whispered. Was it that noticeable? 

Finally, it was time for the roundtable meeting, “Alright let’s get started,” Hotch said, walking in and sitting down. “Garcia.”

“Does anyone remember this picture,” Garcia started.

“Hotch and I were there,” Rossi answered Garcia’s peculiar question. “That’s principal Doug Givens, we had to drag him to safety.”

“High school bombing in Boise, right?” she added. The way her lips moved with every beautiful word she spoke, she was a goddess. incarnate

“School shooter and school bomber,” JJ continued. “A kid named Randy Slade shot 3 students and then set off an I.E.D. in the school cafeteria via cell phone, killing himself and 13 kids total, but not before posting all of his plans online. It was one of those ‘where were you events’. My whole campus was glued to the TV”

Garcia nodded looking at her tablet, “Last night principal Givens was killed by a bomb modeled exactly like the old one.”

“It feels like the unsub wants to attack the man who kept the whole school together after the bombing,” Morgan added. “It’s a pretty symbolic target.”

“And this week is the tenth anniversary of the massacre,” she added

“And today is the first day of a 4-day event to commemorate the bombing at the school,” Garcia continued.

“Except commemorating it isn’t enough for this unsub,” she said.

“No, he wants to relive it,” Hotch said. “Alright wheels up in 30.” As we all left the room she was called to stay back, but a few moments later she left. She left the BAU, where was she going? Did she get fired already? No, that couldn’t be the case

I walked back to the room to find Hotch, “Where is Y/N going?” 

“She’s going home to pack, shell meet us at the airfield.” And with that, all your worries went away. She wasn’t leaving, she was just packing. 

The rest of the morning went like normal. I had my third cup of coffee, grabbed my bags, and headed for the airfield. I arrived a few minutes early so I could get a good seat on the plane. I ended up sitting at the table for four with the window seat. As I got settled, I noticed she and JJ walking toward the plane at the same time. They were almost indistinguishable. Prentiss came and sat next to me, and to my surprise, Y/N sat across from me with JJ right next to her. We sat on the plane for half an hour before starting to talk about the case. I was able to read about 1200 pages in that time. 

“Perpetrators of school violence are often sophisticated with their weapons. Randy Slade carried his bomb in his backpack. This guy hid his in Givens' clock radio,” I noted. 

“Yeah, and progressive,” Prentiss added. “Each one tries to top the body

count of the one previous.”

“And they're loners by default, not by choice,” she said. “They try to join various social

groups, but they get shut out.”

“Randy Slade wasn't a loner at all,” Hotch said.

“The family cooperated fully with us,” Rossi noted. “He was a high-functioning psychopath, straight-A student, varsity wrestler, lots of girlfriends.”

“With an above-average intelligence that made him incredibly resourceful,” I added. “His explosive of choice was Semtex. It's found at demolition sites, but it's held under lock and key.”

“Which made us consider the possibility of a partner,” Rossi continued. “Never found one.”

“Slade was too much of a narcissist to share credit,” Hotch said. “But he was also an impulsive teen, which is what bothers me about this unsub.”

“His sense of control?” she asked.

“And the end game that he's working toward. Slade's pathology revolved around the big kill,” Hotch noted.  “This unsub could have done the same if he'd waited for the candlelight vigil.”

“Which means there's no blaze of glory fantasy here,” Rossi added. “This unsub has

more bombs made, and he's savoring the anticipation of his next attack.”

“You and Reid can go to the medical examiner when we land to examine the bodies. Morgan, Prentiss and I will set up at the police station. JJ and Rossi, you two will visit the crime scene.” Hotch commanded. Once he finished, everyone returned to what they were doing.