#but i finished the game last night and wanted to articulate my thoughts on it somehow

[kaleidoscope-ize]

I’ve been thinking about my childhood this morning. I have this recurring feeling of having not had one, but I did. And it was a very full one.

I went to the river as often as I could. I once spent an entire summer biking miles to the river every day. Some days it felt like it was the only way I could think straight. I couldn’t get in the water if other people were in it though. I needed to be alone.

I put together yearly camping trips for my friends where we’d get high and play board games and make s’mores. I went to visit the campsite one last time before I moved from my hometown to find it had been sold and turned into an outfitter’s.

I lied about girlfriends. Ones who existed online. Ones I told my friends lived hours away. Ones who embodied so many things I wanted to be, back when I didn’t know how to articulate those thoughts. Didn’t every boy just want to date the girl they wish they could be?

I organized all-night movie marathons with cohesive themes and snacks and it was always so fun to see how they would derail. We never finished all of the movies I had planned, but I never minded. They were hosted at my girlfriend’s house. Those nights were some of the first times I had ever confronted my gender in an uncomfortable way. It was the first time my mom saw me in a dress.

I’d spend entire spring breaks at houses other than my own, looking for adventures with my friends and learning to love their parents as my own, temporary step-parents. It felt like I was getting to demo living a different life, which was fun to me even if I didn’t mind my own life.

I made cosplays for myself and my friends and went to a few conventions. Building the costumes was just as fun as showing them off.

I stayed up as late as I could, in Skype calls and Facebook group chats with my friends. I couldn’t get enough of them, even when they were mean to me.

I roleplayed in forums, in ask blogs, in private messages. More characters. More looking for myself in them.

I single-handedly started the D&D craze in my high school. What started as one group of me and my six friends soon had a waiting list of curious classmates. Watching them break off to teach themselves to play was so cool to me.

I had crushes, but no romance. Relationships that fizzled because neither of us knew how to develop them. Unrequited love from someone who was probably just as confused as I was. All people that I desperately needed validation from.

I was in band and drama, and put as much effort as I could into every school spirit week outfit. I was never not busy.

I often think of my childhood as lost time. Important films and shows I should have watched, romances I should have had, discoveries I should have made. There are days where I retreat into my nostalgia only to find an empty room. But when I really think about it, there wasn’t a single afternoon, weekend, or summer vacation that I wasn’t doing something with people I called my friends. I felt a disconnect from everything, but that didn’t stop me from constantly attempting to connect.

It was a childhood of reaching. A childhood of missed opportunities. But a childhood of experiences nonetheless.

[scarletslippers]

and I wake with your memory over me

Been holding onto this one for a bit, but the anniversary of 3x13 feels like the right time to post. Hope this soothes some of the ache from that season description. My eternal love to @flythesail​​ for giving it a read over and saving the day with a last minute gorgeous edit to go with it. 

Advance critical acclaim: “Really elevated my 3x13 trauma” and “TWAS A PAINFUL DELIGHT.”

Game night in the time between Ace finding out about the curse and them breaking it. Read on AO3

Nancy shifts, tucking a leg under herself in an attempt to shake herself from that line of thinking. She’s here tonight to have fun, to remember what life can look like and be like and sound like, to not lose herself to the melancholy. Ryan’s right, she has been withdrawn. 

Instead she watches Ace gesture to articulate his point, the line of his fingers in the air, his forearm peeking out from a rolled-up sleeve. His whole face is alight. 

A part of her hates that she is the reason he is here, like this. That his catalyst to get here was pursuing the love she desperately wants to but is unable to give him. That he pushed himself because he felt somehow not good enough. And that not only did he feel that way, but he thought that she felt that way. 

That might be step one after breaking this curse. Telling Ace how incredible she thinks he is until his lips quirk in an uncomfortable smile and he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly and tilts his head in shy acceptance of her praise. Well, maybe that can be step two—after she kisses him, of course. 

He finishes his story and looks at her, encouraging. She blinks herself back to the conversation and looks around at the expectant gazes of her friends. “Oh, is it my turn?” 

George opens her mouth to make a sarcastic remark that Nancy can hear already—dangerous truths that would call Nancy out on all she’s trying to hide and bury, bringing to light the things she’s trying to keep in check. 

Too busy ogling Ace to follow the conversation?

Read the rest

[jesternene]

Unexpected Circumstances

To read Chapter 2, please go here

CHAPTER 3

Beverly isn’t sure how long she had been standing outside the Captain’s door. The last 24 hours she took to absorb the news of Dr. Selar’s findings were not only shocking but absolutely terrifying. She needed answers and the only way she was going to get them was to find these aliens and tell her what was going on. But she knew she needed to inform the Captain of the recent development. With a lump in her throat, she chimed for his door. 

“Come” Picard answered. The whoosh of the doors gave Beverly a slight jump as her nerves were unsteady. Picard smiled as he saw her, placing the book he had down on the table and stood up to greet her. “Beverly, It is so good to see you. How are you feeling?”

“I’m not even sure how to answer that” Beverly gave an anxious chuckle. Picard’s smile faded as he noticed how uneasy she was.

“Is everything alright?” he asked with concern in his voice.

“Jean-Luc, you should probably sit down. What I am about to tell you isn’t going to be easy to hear” Beverly said. Picard swallowed hard, unsure how to take in those words. He slowly sat down and remained quiet, anxiously waiting for what she had to say. “Or perhaps, I should just show you” Beverly sighed, as she slowly lifted the thin material that covered her now growing belly.

It took Picard a second to realize what he was looking at, but as he observed closer, he noticed the tiny swell protruding from her stomach. “I see” he said as his eyes widened. “Are congratulations in order?” he asked carefully, unsure how she is taking the news and didn’t want to be insulting.

“That’s the problem” Beverly answered. Her tone was soft but firm. She went and sat next to him on his couch, keeping her hands tightly close together as she looked down, ashamed of what she was about to say next. “Do you remember a few months ago, when the alien posed as you? To study the human species?” She asked as she slowly looked into his eyes.

“Of course” he answered.

“I-” Beverly paused, closing her eyes as she felt the tears begin to sneak up on her. Picard took her hand to make her at ease, which only caused her to cry even more and let some tears shed from her eyes.

“Beverly… what happened?” he asked with such concern. She felt she betrayed him in a way. Even though she was fooled, he was a victim as well. Taken against his will and had no idea what was going on when he was gone. Beverly composed herself long enough to continue.

“That imposter and I… we had an intimate… evening” She barely explained, unsure how to articulate the events in words without saying it bluntly. However, Picard took the hint and understood what she meant.

“You what?” Picard asked in a rather aggressive tone, as he removed his hand from hers and stood up quickly. Beverly felt shame immediately from her actions. 

“I’m sorry. I-” Beverly wasn’t sure what to say at this point. Picard didn’t notice the apology as he tried to process exactly what happened. What he said next though Beverly was not expecting.

“He took advantage of you” Picard, not looking at Beverly, started to become more angry as he said those words. Beverly stood up, unsure if she heard him right.

“What?” Beverly asked, confused.

“He took advantage of you” Picard looked at her and explained furiously. “He comes onto my ship, he plays games with my crew. And now you're saying he violated you in the worst kind of way. Deceiving you in…” He couldn’t finish his thoughts. Picard’s anger wasn’t towards Beverly, but towards the Aliens that caused all of this. He ran his hand over his smooth scalp, trying to calm down.

“He may have done that, Jean-Luc, but I made the choice to be with him that night” Beverly explained, taking herself off the high pedestal that Picard put her on. He was surprised by her answer.

“Under false pretenses! You can’t seriously be blaming yourself for any of this?” Picard asked in shock. 

“You don’t understand! I thought I was making love to you!” Beverly shouted unexpectedly. This caused Picard to take a step back, stunned by the revelation that came out of her mouth. Beverly sighed. “He may have tricked me into believing that he was you. But I shouldn’t have given in to my–” Beverly paused for a moment, swallowing the large lump in her throat. “My feelings” She finished.

Picard was shocked, unable to comprehend exactly what she was saying. He thought he was the only one keeping a secret. Loving her since the day he met her and now it seems he wasn’t alone. A wave of guilt washed over Picard as the situation began to sink in. Yes, these aliens took advantage of her, but there would have been no taking advantage of if he was just honest with his feelings to begin with. Unsure how to take his silence, Beverly continued.

“There’s more…” Beverly said. Picard knew immediately that wasn’t a good thing. He took a deep breath and slowly nodded for her to continue. “I have taken every test I know and it shows that the baby… is human and… is yours” she finished. Picard noticed the confusion in her tone and for a moment, he thought he heard wrong.

“I’m sorry” Picard chuckled a bit. “What do you mean by mine?”

“Jean-Luc, I don’t know what is going on here. But what I do know is that the only way I can get my questions answered is if we find those aliens” Beverly ignored his question and continued with her assessment of the situation.

“Beverly, we don’t know exactly where they were from. We don’t even know what they are called!” Picard exclaimed.

“I know it is a long shot but Jean-Luc–” She stopped for a moment and took a step closer to him, to show him her pleading eyes on how important this is. “I don’t think we have any other choice but to at least try. I have no idea what is going on in my body. Is this baby human? Is it healthy? Am I in any danger? I can’t even explain all the questions I have but I do know they have the answers. Please…” Beverly begged.

Picard knew she was right. There is too much at stake here, especially Beverly’s safety to let this go. Picard sighed and took her hand. 

“I will do the best I can to find them for you” Picard reassured her with his words and a slight squeeze of the hand. Beverly smiled graciously, giving him a slight squeeze in return.

“Thank you” she said quietly. Beverly then kissed his cheek lovely before heading straight for the door. Picard turned quickly to stop her but before he had a chance, she was already gone.

____________________________________________

The next two weeks were exhausting. Without giving too much away, Picard used all his resources he could to try and find these mysterious aliens. He assigned Data to the task, knowing he would be thorough in the investigation. Beverly kept her mind busy, easily concealing her stomach with her lab coat. She even assisted Data in learning how to dance for Keiko and Miles’ wedding. Beverly didn’t talk to Picard very much, only to be briefed on his findings. She still felt guilty and wasn’t sure exactly how Picard felt towards her. However, Picard also felt guilty but didn’t want to push Beverly into talking to him. He knew she would come when she was ready. Just then, his door chimed in his ready room. As Picard asked them to enter, Data walks in.

“Good news, sir. I have found the Aliens that you had requested me to find” Data said. Picard practically leaped out of his chair when he heard the news.

“That is fantastic! Where are they?” Picard pushed excitedly.

“They are called the Verpellians. I had noticed a few Starfleet records on them after our encounter. They are off the Polarian System. If you wish to make contact, it will take 2 days to get there at maximum warp” Data explained.

“Make it so, Mr. Data” Picard requested. Data nodded and walked out the door. Picard quickly tapped his combadge. “Picard to Dr. Crusher” 

“Yes, Captain?” Beverly can be heard over his device.

“Please come to my ready room, I have something to tell you”

____________________________________________

As the Enterprise arrived in the Polarian System, they noticed a couple of small planets that could sustain life but nothing else. 

“Very desolate place. No wonder no one knows about them” Riker remarked. He wasn’t fully understanding of why they needed to find these aliens, but he always trusted the Captain’s judgment.

“Counselor, do you sense anything?” Picard asked as he stared helplessly at the view screen.

“It’s quite odd, Captain. I sense chattering in my head but I can not comprehend the language” Deanna explained. Holding her head slightly as if in pain, Riker walked to her to see if she was alright, but Deanna just waved at him. “I’m fine. Just overwhelming is all”

“Can you communicate with them? Let them know I wish to speak with them?” Picard asked. This caused everyone to look at each other in confusion. They trusted the Captain but sometimes they knew he could do things from his emotions instead of a logical sense. However, they truly did not know the severity of the issue as Picard, Beverly and Dr. Selar kept that underwraps. Riker then walked towards Picard and sighed.

“I’m sorry, sir but I must ask. Why are you trying to contact them? Haven’t they done enough damage?” Riker asked in a more rigid tone. Picard finally breaks his contact and looks to Riker. 

“You have no idea, Number one. There is a reason I must speak with them but it is a private matter and I will explain when I can. You just need to trust me” Picard pleaded. Riker only nodded, knowing there is far more at stake here than he realizes. Just then, Deanna stood up quickly.

“Captain!” Deanna shouted but before they could see what was going on, two Verpellians appeared on the bridge, just as they did months ago when they brought Captain Picard back. Worf instinctively pulled out his phaser but Picard placed his hand up. 

“No wait. We mean no harm, we just need to talk” Picard told the Verpellians.

“Talking is meaningless” one Verpellian said. “You must leave our system at once, Captain” the other continued, remembering who Picard was.

“We will as soon as you answer some questions of ours. There has been an unforeseen development that you caused and we need understanding. You can at least grant us that after all you put me and my ship through” Picard explained. The two Verpellians looked at each other for a moment before nodding. Picard was pleased by this and looked to Riker. “Please summon Dr. Crusher to my ready room, we will meet with her there”

“But Captain…” Worf interjected but Picard again stopped him.

“I will be fine, Mr. Worf. Please do as I ask” Picard commanded and then escorted the Verpellians to his Ready Room as they waited for Dr. Crusher.

After a few moments, Beverly arrives. Picard is standing closest to the door, observing the Verpellians as they wordlessly communicate in awe over his Lionfish. Picard then stepped back, letting Beverly take the helm of this conversation.

“Are one of you the alien who impersonated Captain Picard?” Beverly asked, shaking in her anger as she stared at them. One of them turned and walked closer to her.

“That would be me” he said.

“Then this is your fault!” she shouted, exposing her belly to them. Her anger caused tears to form in her eyes but she refused to let them see her vulnerable. The Verpellians tilted their heads slightly in confusion and did not understand what she meant.

“I’m sorry but what is our fault?” they asked.

“You got me pregnant while impersonating Captain Picard!” she exclaimed.

“What is pregnant?” one of them asked curiously. Beverly’s eyes widened. For a moment, she forgot that not all species procreate the same way and they wouldn’t understand exactly what they did. Noticing her silence, Picard stepped in.

“This is how our species bears children. The females carry them for a time before giving birth” Picard explained, almost diplomatically. He didn’t want this to escalate to a point they may not help them.

“Very unusual. And how did we accomplish that?” the one who impersonated Picard asked Beverly. This caused Beverly to cry. The betrayal was so nonchalant, almost innocent to the alien, but a severe betrayal nonetheless. Picard continued.

“It has come to my understanding that you and Dr. Crusher engaged in a rather… personal matter. In which is how we procreate” Picard explained. However, he looked down from them, feeling sympathy for Beverly at this moment.

“Very unusual, indeed” the Verpellian said. “Then the words we should express to you are… Congratulations?” he asked. This took Picard aback a bit.

“Now, It is I who does not understand” Picard chuckled, with a hint of confusion in his tone, as he looked up to them again.

“This offspring is not ours, Captain, but yours. We are a species that can make an exact copy of any living life-form. The form in which I was– yours, was truly you in all sense of the word” The Verpellian explained. Picard and Beverly looked at each other, unsure of how to take the information.

“So, my tests are correct. This child is Jean-Luc’s…” Beverly said. She inched closer to them as her frustration and anger grew. “You took advantage of me. You not only violated me but Jean-Luc, exposing his most inner thoughts and feelings and for what? An experiment?!”. The two stood silently, afraid, unsure of what her actions might be.

“We did not mean any harm by it. We only followed the desires of the Captain. We would not have harmed you otherwise” the Verpellian explained. 

“You can not place the blame on me!” Picard shouted, now irritated with the aliens' explanation. “You caused more harm than you realize! Now we must suffer the consequences of your actions. Our lives have changed because of you, and you stand there, innocently trying to apologize while no words can express what you have done!” Picard finished. The audacity of them playing the ‘faultless’ card only made him more angry.

“But it is what you wanted, correct?” the alien asked innocently.

“Excuse me?” Picard asked, almost offended by the question.

“It has always been your desire to love and have a family with this particular female. Wouldn’t you be happy with this news? Have we inaccurately interpreted your feelings?” the curious alien asked.

Picard gasped a bit at the alien’s revelation. This wasn’t something he wanted exposed, above all with Beverly standing in the room. These were his feelings and his right to have those feelings kept close to him. Beverly was right, not only was she violated but he was to but in a much different way.

“I think it’s time for you to leave” Beverly broke the silence with her whisper of words. The aliens looked at each other in confusion before beaming away. Picard and Beverly stood there for a few moments in silence. The discovery of his own feelings being brought to the surface was a surprise. She thought she was alone in her feelings, only to find out he shared them as well.

“I think I should go” Beverly said. Without looking at her, Picard only nodded, turning his back to her in humiliation. Beverly took a step back and quickly exited the ready room and rushed to the turbolift. The bridge crew was surprised by her action, and Deanna felt a wave of emotion as Beverly rushed past her. The moment the turbolift doors closed, Beverly requested deck 8 to return to her quarters. After a few seconds, Beverly halted the lift to pause. The emotions flooding her mind rose to the surface and she broke down. Backing to the wall and sliding slowly to the ground, she cried.

____________________________________________

J

[gillyweedgrl]

Current Tag Game

Asking me things is dangerous, you almost always get more than you bargained for, but here goes nothing...

Tagged by @thegalwhorants, sorry this is so late, I apparently had my notifications turned off 🤦‍♀️

Current Time: 12:51am and I should definitely be in bed.

Current Activity: Watching Ossan's Love HK and procrastinating going to bed.

Currently (Avoiding) Thinking About: The final episode of Venus in the Sky that I both desperately want to watch and don't want to end and the upcoming finale of Kiseki on Tuesday that I'm also dreading. I don't like endings, okay. I also have a lot of thoughts about Only Friends but there's too much of a pissing contest going on between the lovers/haters of each character/pairing (and the show overall) right now that I'm picking my battles.

Current Favourite Song: I've had Counting Stars by Gawin Caskey stuck in my head all week, I've listened to it on repeat several times. In general my current music fixation is on foreign stuff, mostly Thai and K-Pop and I have go-to playlists for both that I listen to pretty much every day at work.

Currently Watching: Venus in the Sky - Is it fantastic? No. Do I love it anyway? You bet. Am I ready for it to end? Never, I HATE endings! My Universe - Watching this bi-weekly so that I can watch each 2-episode story arc all together. The standouts for me so far have been You Are My So(ul) Mate and Lucky Love. *I'll be watching The Camp Fire tomorrow night later tonight. IFYLITA - I have so many feelings about this masterpiece and no comments. They nailed it. Even the ending, which I mustered up the courage to watch, it was beautiful and sad and hopeful, and I want season 2 right now. I'm sure others have better articulated thoughts about some of it's best points such as Bright and Nonkul's impressive performances, the beautiful cinematography and of course, the HANDS! Kiseki: Dear to Me - I came for the mafia and stayed for the cameos, I LIVE for the cameos! Both couples are great but damn are Chen Yi and Ai Di giving me major side couple syndrome. You Are Mine - Quirky and crazy and cute, loving it. I'm also watching Ossan's Love, the Hong Kong version, and am halfway through ep 7. I can't help comparing it to the original (which I just finished last week) but I'm loving it so far and have twice as many eps to look forward to.

Current Favourite Character: Right now I'm loving Siu Muk from Ossan's Love HK, he's such a sweetheart and he's pining so hard for Tin it hurts my heart. I want him to get his happy ending. My all time fave though is King from Bed Friend, hands down. That man went through the wringer for Uea and the heart eyes he makes whenever he looks at Uea make the hopeless romantic in me weak at the knees.

Current WIP: I'm shotcutting some scenes from Cutie Pie/Naughty Babe and Kixx x Kiss x Kiss, I've got a folder full of photo edits to do from an event back in June (that no one but me needs me to edit therefore I have zero motivation to do so) and I have some 30+ drafts right here I could finish and post but my brain, and the lack of seretonin at the thought of doing that, says no.

Tagging these awesome peeps, but only if you're up for it: @taikanyohou, @forcebookish, @burnsuncomet, @lutawolf

[teabiscs]

Yubo Fic Idea

So I should have planned this out for my other story because it would have been way more interesting. But I’m going for softness and fluff. So probably good this didn’t get thought of back in September last year. Because Yuriy in my fic didn't need this on top of everything

But here it is. It’s a slow burn, if that's not obvious by how RIDICULOUSLY long this whole thought is. Because I do not know how to be casual. Also if something like this exists EVEN in the slightest, help me OUT.

Boris and Yuriy are both in love with one another. Everyone with eyes can see Boris is in love with Yuriy. Head over heels. Heart eyes. Would kill for the redhead. 

Those who know Yuriy well enough (Borg and Kai) know that he loves Boris. Maybe he can’t articulate it. Maybe it makes him feel funny admitting it. Maybe he thinks it’s embarrassing broadcasting his feelings. 

It’s 100% mutual. Right? Perfect. 

Butt not in this plot. Yuriy is fine with what they have. Doesn’t want to throw off the status quo they have of being Friends+ (the plus being: kissing, cuddling, sleeping together. Not orgasms tho bc they never got that far). Yuriy is comfortable. He has Boris. He has his family and everyone is happy!

Except for Boris. Who craves more. He wants that silly little title of /boyfriend/. Wants to hold the redhead’s hand in public. To hold him. To express more of his love out of behind the closed doors of Yuriy’s bedroom. Boris is so patient and understanding that Yuriy needs time. But at this point it’s been five years of this cat and mouse game and they’re in their mid twenties. And Boris is human. He is greedy. He wants things. 

And things unravel from here. It always starts a fight when Boris brings up anything related to wanting more. Consolidating space, PDA, boyfriends. And Boris is tired at this point. It’s been five fucking years of waiting. This gets heated. Yelling and screaming. Snarling. And if they both didn’t have extensive therapy, hands would have been thrown. 

And it ends with Boris giving Yuriy an ultimatum, they either progress to a new level in their relationship or what they have is done. They’ll still be friends. But for Boris’ sake he’s stepping back. 

And Yuiry chooses the latter. What he doesn’t realize is how serious Boris was. 

He moves out the next week, half out of spite, half because he thinks it will make him feel better. Sergei and Ivan know, but Boris doesn’t tell Yuriy. So yuriy comes home one day to a silent house with shifty eyes when they all sit down for dinner. No one says anything about Boris’ seat being empty or the lack of a place setting. So yuriy just thinks he’s out for the night, and since they’re on bad terms just wasn’t told. But that night he gets a better look around the house and notices some of Boris’ things missing but he tries to ignore it. Then the next morning Boris still isn’t there. Yuriy looks around at the other guys at the table eating breakfast. A plate is still missing from Boris’ spot. 

“Boris didn’t come home last night?” He asks

The two share a look. And Sergei goes “oh fuck, did he not tell him.” He looks to Ivan. 

“Trust that asshole to let us break the news.”

The news? Yuriy’s eyebrows almost reach his hairline. 

“Boris moved out yesterday.”

And Yuriy is too calm as he goes Oh, and finishes eating his food. 

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

And yuriy has a breakdown. He calls off of work and tears apart his room. He barely realizes why. Boris warned him. Boris gave him a choice. This is what he wanted. This is what he picked. 

-

And then it gets worse. 

Just a lot of sad boys. And then Boris enjoying life. And sad Yuriy who just reached a breaking point and doesn't care anymore. He lets himself cry. Lets himself feel things, because if he doesnt its going to explode out of him. He feels better after a cry. Yuriy doesnt understand how his heart can hurt like this. He wishes he could just claw it out of his chest. It hurts so fucking bad.

-

Boris finds an apartment astonishingly quick. He gets himself situated and tells Sergei and Ivan he’s leaving. it hurts saying goodbye. But he needs this. Needs the space. Needs to get far away from Yuriy and figure out his wants and his needs and find someone who will give them to him. Not someone who’s willing to stay stagnant forever. 

And that whole post moving out Boris, is him just using alcohol and sex to cope. He’s a virgin prior to this, but lordy, does alcohol calm his nerves. Havnet figured out how Boris and Kai end up being friendly enough prior to this, or if they become friends because of this. Boris moves out because he knows its going to hurt Yuriy, he wants it to. He isnt sure if its comparable to how he’s been feeling, but he hopes it is, and hopes its worse (yuriy would tell you its worse)

It pains him to have to hit up Hiwatari, but it means getting into clubs easier and knowing someone there. It’s fun to let loose and dance with pretty girls and Fit Guys. His hands on slim hips, and strong arms on his hips grinding against him. He feels wanted. It's refreshing. 

Hiwatari isn’t that bad either, Boris realizes. He pays for their table and the drinks, and always helps him home when he’s had too much to drink. Tell him who to avoid and who’s clean, whos a good fuck and who is awful in bed. Who will try and trap him with a kid. All good friend things. 

Boris ends up dancing with him one night, and between the lights, music and alcohol haze forgets who’s grinding their ass on his cock and considers taking him home that night. (He quickly remembers it’s Kai fucking Hiwatari, his has his hands on and discards that idea. 

Boris enjoys this month of bliss, forgetting Yuriy and living a life that’s normal for a 25 year old. He barely thinks of the redhead, except when he’s sober, and for that month he’s rarely sober except when he’s busy at work. 

He sees Sergei and Ivan when he knows Yuriy is busy, (who scold him for not even saying goodbye to Yuriy or telling him he was moving out and how fucked up it was having them tell him.). He tried to ignore how they tell him that Yuriy is struggling since he’s been gone. He’s not sleeping or eating. And not taking care of himself. 

And Boris pushes down the feelings that rise up his stomach to the back of his throat. And make him feel sick. Tried to ignore that what he’s doing is hurting Yuriy, the one he claimed he loved and wanted more with. 

He puts up a tough front in front of the others, he’s not sure how convincing it is. Sergei seems to buy it. Ivan not so much, when he says “well this is what Ivanov wanted. He didn’t want me so I left”

“You didn’t have to leave though. You could have stayed” Sergei says

“Do you have any idea how much it hurt me being in the house with him? I’m finally doing better. It’s not my problem that he’s suffering the consequences of his actions. You can’t ask me to hurt myself so he stops.” And he excuses himself. 

He dials up Hiwatari and tells him he needs to go out tonight and doesn’t want to be stopped unless they’re taking him away in an ambulance for alcohol poisoning. 

“It can be arranged. That bad huh? You see him again?”

“Bad yes. Saw Sergei and Ivan.”

“Be ready in an hour. I’ll pick you up.”

That night they both take someone home to Kai’s house, if you wanna call it that. Boris wakes up the next morning as the girl is pulling on her fishnets and boots. He finally gets a good look at her. Shes a tiny alt/emo girl with brightly dyed hair and more piercings than him. She flashes him a smile and thanks him for the good time, and that she hopes to see him at the club again. 

-

And they meet up several more times and start dating. Boris warning her that this is his first relationship and he’s trying and if he does something wrong it’s not on purpose it’s just all new. And she reassured him that he’s doing a great job and kisses him. She holds his hand. She cuddles with him. She’s soft with him and affectionate in ways he never knew he wanted. 

And it’s nice. It feels like something more than friends. Feels like what he’s always wanted. It’s so easy to fall into a groove of seeing her after he gets off from work. To spending nights at each other’s apartments. She insists it’s too soon to move in together. And he’s okay with that since they still sleep together almost every night. They go out clubbing together, dancing exclusively with one another. It’s lewd and he loves how he can openly express his feelings for her.

-

Until one day, there’s a soft knock on his apartment door. The girlfriend answers, and Boris can barely hear the exchange, until she comes skipping back into the living room that there’s somewhere at the door for him. And that itsa guy with redhair looking for him.

Yuriy looks meek and shy, shuffling in his doorway. He can barely make eye contact with Boris. He looks awful, too skinny, and tired, dark bags under his eyes. 

“Hey. You look good.” Yuriy comments, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“You look awful.” Boris replies. “Are you eating right? Sleeping?”

“I’m fine.” Yuriy insists, through a tight forced smile. 

And they talk and its so awkward and forced. The girlfriend comes bouncing back over kisses Boris on the cheek, saying she’ll be back after work, offering Yuriy a smile and saying its nice to meet him.

Yuriy’s face falls and he answers back, “I- ugh didn’t realize that you- I shouldn't have come. I'm sorry. I'm going to go.”

“You came here to talk though-”

“It was a mistake. I should have called first.”

Boris is left confused. Yuriy didn't want this, so he found a relationship elsewhere. How could he be upset? Yuriy goes home and rips apart his room again, punching a hole in his wall in the process. If he had known he wouldn't have gone. He didn't think Boris would have moved on.

-

Yuriy ends up phoning Kai. He’s not sure why. “You offered to hook up before, that offer still available?”

“Sure. I said I'd wine and dine you too, so get dressed up and we’ll get dinner first.” He hangs up before Yuriy can protest. 

Yuriy does not end up getting laid that night. Kai confronts him after dinner, “Sleeping with me would just be a fucked up form of self harm to you at this point. I'm assuming you heard that Boris is seeing someone and that’s why you wanted to meet up.”

“Why agree to take me out to dinner if you werent going to fuck me.” Kai shrugs, “Sergei said you haven’t been eating. Figured I’d at least trick you into getting some food into you. You look like shit.”

Yuriy glares at him, “So i’ve been told already today.”

“I was only half serious when I offered to hook up with you back then. I said it more to piss off Kuznetsov. IF you weren’t doing this as some kind of fucked up punishment, I would take you home.”

Yuriy/’s eyes narrow and he sips at his cocktail, “At least let me get drunk and forget my problems.”

“Gladly.”

Yuriy isn't sure when Kai turned into this caring individual who took care of people, but he finds himself that next morning tucked into his bed, not remembering much of what happened after or even getting home.

-

Months go by, with Yuriy barely taking care of himself. He misses Boris.Misses everything he took for granted.

Yuriy going to Boris and being like I know things are different now, but is there a chance for us to hang out again. So they do a Borg movie night. And Yuriy tries to ignore how Boris sits in a different spot. Swallows down burning feeling in his throat. Boris would always be embarrassingly close when they would watch movies together. Thigh pressed up against Yuriy’s and his arm wrapped around Yuriy’s neck, fingers brushing against his bicep.

Now Boris is five feet away on a different piece of furniture. At least at dinner he sits at his old seat next to Yuriy, and he can relax just a little, feeling comfortable enough to eat. 

Then Sergei is offering coffee and dessert and Boris passes up on the dessert, saying he’s trying to watch his weight and that his girlfriend is such a good cook and a stress baker, and that he’s put on ten pounds since they got together. Offhandedly saying its hard to want to go to the gym in the morning when shes next to him.

And Yuriy excuses himself from the table. He's going to be sick. He locks himself in the bathroom. He can't breathe and he honestly feels like the food he just ate is going to find its way outside of him.

He shoots Sergei a text that he cant do this. He cant he cant he cant. 

Yuriy composes himself the best he can and goes back into the kitchen. Excusing himself that he feels sick. That he ate too much.  He feels his face flush when Ivan even mentions it's nice to see him eat like a normal person for once, but not if he’s getting sick from it.

Yuriy hides himself in his room, and cries. Everything inside of him hurts and it radiates outside of him. He cant hold this inside of him anymore. Crying into his pillow.

His head telling him, he only has himself to blame. He didnt want Boris as a partner, so Boris found one. He did this to himself. If only he stepped up and faced his fears.

-

More time goes by. And more movie nights and game nights, and Boris starts bringing the girlfriend over, and Yuriy wants to hate her, but she is so nice to him, and he feels awful being cold towards her. (Hates seeing her make Boris laugh and happy, but he fights that feeling back). Seeing Boris still hurts, but it gets easier. 

A scene somewhere, where Yuriy is telling Boris, he didn't want things to change, because he didn't want to lose Boris, but it still happened. This wasnt how things were supposed to be. This was supposed to save them. They would always be close, always have each other. He was scared to lose him, and it happened anyway. And he starts crying, he doesn't even feel embarrassed anymore crying, even crying in front of someone.

-

And this is like the turning point, where things start to change and aren’t so sad.

-

Boris and his girlfriend will be cuddling after sex, and of all times to say something, she’s like, “Boris, be honest with me. You love him.”

??

Yuriy, you love him.

Boris is still confused, Yes, I love him and Sergei and Ivan.

Borya. You love him.

I love you, *insert whatever her name will be*

Yes, but not in the way you love him. You love me because of how I am. What I give to you. He couldn't do what I do. 

“He didn’t want this. Want me.” Boris replies.

“I love you Boris, and I know you love me, just not in the way I want you to. You’re the best boyfriend I’ve had, and honestly some of the best sex I’ve had. I care about you so much that I think, though, that we should end this. Go be with Yuriy-

No. He doesn't want me.

I Think that’s changed.

They go back and forth, until she’s like, We don't have to break up. I don't plan on leaving if we do. I just want you to be happy. Boris promises that he will at least talk to Yuriy, and she kisses him on the head, and gets in the shower. 

-

Boris arranges a meeting with Yuriy, who is starting to look human again. THe bags under his eyes are less dark, and his cheekbones aren't threatening to cut through his skin. He seems nervous, his eyes shifting around, like he’s expecting something, and then it dawns on him.

“She’s not here Yura, it’s just us.” Yuriy seems to calm down if only for a minute before the nickname has him looking funny again. Boris hesitates before reaching across the table and grabs for Yuriy’s hand. He’s half expecting Yuriy to retract his hand or pull back

“Can we talk? We haven’t talked in a long time.”

Yuriy nods slowly, looking down at Boris’ hand. 

Boris says that his girlfriend broke up with him, which is the simplest way of putting it, because of Yuriy. That Boris is still in love with Yuriy. He loved the girlfriend, but loved that she did everything he wished Yuriy would have done. That he still wants to be with Yuriy.

Yuriy is too stunned to speak initially and then he’s like, but you two were so happy. 

She called it off, because she knew i was in love with you, and that you were in love with me. She said she couldnt sit back and let that happen. 

-

And then the lord said let there be fluff. They date! Yuriy feels awkward and embarrassed doing PDA. And he’s anxious and nervous that he’ll do something wrong, but Boris is always beaming when Yuriy holds his hand in public, and how proud he is that Yuriy is trying so hard to give him what he wants.

(also the ex-gf does corner him, and is like im happy you two are figuring things out, but if you fuck this up, I’m not going to give him up a second time. And yuriy’s like i don’t plan it.)

—--

[danisgotagun]

Yooka-Laylee

2017 was heralded as the return of the Collectathon sub-genre of 3D platformers. I would be inclined to agree. Hat in Time and Super Mario Odyssey are amazing games that use that formula. But the first big one we got in the year was... Not so great. 

Of course I’m talking about Playtonic Games’ “Yooka-Laylee”.

To preface my thoughts on this game, now that I have completed it 100%, I have never played Banjo-Kazooie. Or any of Rare’s classic 3D platformers, surprisingly. It’s definitely one of my favorite genre! But for this I see it as a positive as I wasn’t going in with any real expectations based on the names. Also, I own the PS4 version of the game, so I may have had a more buggy experience than PC/Switch players. 

The Collectathon sub-genre never truly died, I think. The core of what made those games what they were transferred to a lot of modern games. One of the big reasons that genre took off was the jump to 3D itself, and being able to explore a 3D space and discover its secrets was a novel concept. Trophies, achievements, open world games, etc. all pull from that to some degree. So for the Collectathon, as we know it, to come back (and man do I want it to come back) it has to present itself in a fresh form. We’re stripping a game to the core, and using basic gaming conventions and we have to make that enjoyable with new ideas. Super Mario Odyssey did this exceptionally well. This is a point I think Yooka-Laylee fell short on. 

Not only did Yooka-Laylee not bring something truly fresh to the genre, any real modernization for it to hold its own in the current market, it failed to do a lot of the things the Collectathon genre entails. Given the pedigree of the developers, this was the most shocking thing to me and most people who found themselves disappointed in the game. 

There are plenty of collectables. But finding them, especially the quills, feels awkward. Things seem to thrown around the level haphazardly. It’s not as bad as I anticipated; that one quill in the Tribalstack Tropics was definitely the worst offender, but it never really got better past there.  

Which brings me to the levels themselves. We have 5 big worlds that can be expanded once to make them even bigger. It’s a cool concept, in theory, but it doesn’t really mean much when the levels feel so barren. You’re running around huge levels with no real way to fast travel, finding paths that lead nowhere and getting tired of finding maybe a few quills in one entire section of the level. The characters that inhabit the levels don’t... really inhabit the levels. Nothing changes when you complete a task, characters don’t interact with you in any significant way really. I would’ve liked if they at least responded to you attacking them or jumping on them, something that even the early Collectathons like the original Spyro trilogy, had accomplished. It’s little things like that that truly tie a game like this together. But Yooka-Laylee is a very loose experience.

There’s no structure, is what I really want to say here. Most of the game doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. The jokes, while some of them are good, are everywhere and usually shoehorned into dialogue. Hints and clues for completing certain tasks (and even move descriptions!) are obtuse at best. The Sonar Splosion says “Do not ussssse near glasssss.” The average player would think this means it would break open the cracked glass walls you run across. But no. What breaks those? The Spin Dash (which, coincidentally, feels like it should be the move to break the blocks Sonar Splosion breaks.) The huge levels are easy to get turned around in, landmarks and consistency in direction (especially when you’re going after quills off the beaten path) is a mess. The best level in the game, as far as structure goes, also feels like one of the emptiest ones to a degree, that being the final world, Galleon Galaxy (which personally I loved tbh but it was still large but not dense.)  

And then there’s “identity.” The game wants you to feel nostalgic for the genre, but it doesn’t seem all that concerned with making you feel attached to itself. Characters are generally bland, up to and including Yooka himself, and aren’t all that memorable. Laylee is fun with her wisecracks, but even those get annoying. (Ironically, one such joke is her talking to Rextro about “annoying character dialogue.” Hmm.) And despite this lack of personality, characters will drone on and on and on. You can skip through a lot of dialogue, but the transitions between speech bubbles is slow itself, and there’s no skipping that. There’s just no real charm, nothing to really let the game hold up. If it wanted me to think it was an old collectathon that hadn’t aged well, then it would have succeeded. It lacks a lot of polish. 

But here’s the thing. I could continue complaining about the game, and saying things that have probably been said a million times before against it. But the most frustrating thing about the entire game is that you can see the potential. To me, that is the worst type of bad game: One where the potential is right in front of your face. You can’t just simply dismiss it as garbage, and it’s a strange and terrible feeling when you play a game and think to yourself “this could have been great!” 

The designs are cute, and the worlds, while empty, are beautiful to look at. Some of the challenges to get pagies were clever; and there’s neat areas like the Icymetric Palace. The music is fantastic and whimsical. 

On the note of good traits, I want to talk about perhaps the best part of the game: Capital B. A great villain design, has the most personality of anyone in the game, and the final boss fight is genuinely fun. Albeit, it’s a long fight with unskippable transitions between and even within each of its 4 phases with no chance of healing anywhere. It would have been a perfect final boss if the second phase was maybe a little shorter, and butterflies appeared occasionally (especially in the 4th phase, where stamina recovery is almost necessary.) But overall, Capital B is an excellent, cleverly designed antagonist.

The game has so much quality in it that the overwhelming lack thereof that is also there feels all the worse. I spent about 3 days doing a 100% run, and I genuinely had fun. I don’t regret buying this game. 

Now, what exactly do I want to take away from this experience? I want to hold out some hope for Playtonic Games. Yooka-Laylee teases (in more than a few ways) that it will get a sequel. While I hope this isn’t Playtonic’s only IP over the course of its (hopefully) long life, I do want them to perfect Yooka-Laylee before they move on. I hope that they listened to all the criticisms people made of this game, and polish a sequel to be up there with the great collectathons of yesteryear and the ones that are reviving the genre today. If a Tooka-Laylee comes out, I am definitely picking it up, and I sincerely hope that it is a huge success and Playtonic can become a renowned developer that helped save collectathon platformers. 

I feel like Yooka-Laylee was a labor of love from the Rare alums, and their ambition and creative freedom may have got the better of them. I genuinely believe their next project will be an improvement, and I look forward to seeing what they have in store for us.

[19mrs-barnes17]

Good Enough

Summary: Sometimes what you need is something that's only good enough, not perfect but its there.

Part: 1/1

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader (platonic or romantic, your choice)

Warnings: angst, sad, word suicide mentioned, vague reference to depression?

Word count: 850

A/N: Just a little blurb for ya, some comfort from one of my faves

~

“Hey, I thought I heard some shuffling in here. Why didn’t you answer the door?” The sound of his collapsed walking stick dully thudding against the couch cushion was distant as were his footsteps. It’s like you registered everything around you but didn’t have the energy to react to it. Like you were just out of motivation. Not suicidal mind you, just tired. The endless sort of tiredness where everything that weighs you down has reared its way back into your mind despite the fact that nothing truly bad has triggered it. All it takes is one thing, a word or sentence or phrase. Maybe it's one canceled event that you were actually excited about or it was just a disconnect between you and someone. Whatever it is, you can’t hold up the wall any longer and everything just seems to wash over you again.

How do you tell someone that? How do you explain this complex feeling without sounding like you’re ready to end it when you’re not. How do you make sense? It’s already hard to articulate things and now you’re stuck trying to explain what is in your mind, the unexplainable. You wished someone could tell you how to make sense to others when you can’t even make sense to yourself.

The day had started so well. For once you got to sleep in without responsibility knocking at your door and glaring you in the face. You had finished working on a project for your apartment that had taken months, somehow the drive had been there and you didn’t want to jinx it. So you allowed yourself to be productive without the pressure of deadlines or expectations and it was a miracle. Hell, you even got the last slice of your favorite pizza before the shop closed for the night. Free of charge. Maybe you should have known the day was too good to be true. You were kicking yourself for falling for it.

Usually when someone wasn’t up for making plans for dinner you shrugged it off because it really was no big deal. Most nights you spent alone anyhow, sometimes your best friend was still hanging around the office and you could convince him to spend a night playing games. You were used to the isolation, it wasn’t all that suffocating since you were used to it but some days little things would happen to remind you of how you always ended up by yourself. Some days you couldn’t convince your mind it was being unreasonable, that you just needed sleep and your friends would reschedule or try to reach out. But the more time went on the harder it was to convince yourself.

You weren’t sure how long it took you to realize that Matt was lying beside you holding onto your hand, doing his best to just be there. The feeling of his fingers lace with yours grounded you and you were grateful.

“Hey…” He turned his head despite how quiet you spoke and that’s when you realized he’d taken off his glasses and set them on the nightstand. “How long have you been lying there?”

“About an hour, I think. I might have dozed off a bit so it’s difficult to say for sure.” He wasn’t looking anywhere in particular, but the look behind his eyes was full of worry.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were stopping by.”

“You don’t have to apologize, but I know that won’t stop you.” That almost got a smile to tug at your lips. Almost. “It was a last minute decision, I brought Thai. It’s in the microwave though I’m not sure that kept it warm this long. And before you say it yes I know you’re sorry but I don’t mind microwaved Thai.”

“I know.”

“Good. You ready to eat or do you need to lie here a little longer? I don’t mind either.”

“I think I’m okay to eat.” He smiled softly as he sat up and offered you a hand to pull you to your feet. You wrapped your arms around his abdomen and held on tight, fearing that if you so much as loosened your grip he would disappear. “Thank you for being the impossible best.”

“Always. So long as you never stop getting up again, even when you’re delivering the blows, I will keep being impossible.” Now that brought a small ghostly smile to your face.

Matt led you over to the small fold out table in your adjoining kitchen and heated up your meals without another word. He didn’t ask what was on your mind and didn’t pressure you to do anything to cheer yourself up, Matt just placed a takeout container before you and ate his in silence. Maybe it wasn’t the healthiest method, maybe you should open up more often, but it was routine and it was familiar. So instead of crying over something that you couldn’t even properly explain there you sat shoveling Thai food into your mouth as your blind best friend sat listening to the sounds of your comfort movie. And it was enough.

~

Tags: @qtmeryr @broken-hearted-barnes @asphalt-cocktail

[hollyhomburg]

Color me pretty

(Bts Little space au)

Summary: When it came to the littles, the caregivers knew there was no better activity than coloring. 

Tags: SFW, implied bts x reader, pure fluff, little space, little! kookie, Little! m/c, Caregivers! bts, 

W/c: 1.5k

A/n: If you don’t like this kind of content please just skip over it and pay it no mind! this is very sweet and fluffy. this can be read alone, but i did use the characters from my other little space ask au titled ‘the peanut butter to my jelly’ it’s linked at the end of the fic!  i wrote this drabble in one sitting! 

- On the nights that Koo and the m/c are non-verbal but still feeling energetic enough to need stimulation the caregivers have a special little ritual that they like to do. 

- it’s something tucked away, always ready to have on hand when they need it, it never fails to calm an overly excited or sugar high little; the blanket made out of a special material that can be washed after it’s doodled on, painted, and made new. 

- On those special days, the caregivers bring around all their ‘messy blankets’ the fort making supplies that no one minds if they get ruined, if koo gets his apple sauce on it or if a sippie mistakenly gets it’s lid taken off. they make a nest in the living room with markers and crayons and they’re allowed to get the blanket as colorful as possible. 

- The blanket is magic in the littles eyes! filled with simple flowers that they can color in as many times as they want! All the laundry fairy (Taehyung) has to do is pop the blanket in the washer and voila! it’s all ready for more coloring! no more marker marks. 

- I just picture her and Koo stretched out on it with half of their stuffed animals for “moral support” while cartoons play in the background coloring to their hearts content. Koo gets a little younger in his headspace sometimes than the m/c though they’re pretty equal in general.

- Eventually koo just gets so small that he forgoes coloring all together, instead busying himself with sucking on the end of a marker. while the m/c just giggles with her tongue hanging out, swinging her feet, the picture of adorable concentration as she struggles to keep her pink marker inside the lines.

- Occasionally one of the caregivers will come in to check on them. And they’d come pet over their heads and koo and the m/c just excitedly gesture to the mess they’ve made! their brains too cottony to make many words other than “flower! made’ pink!!!” koo in his little sing song voice going “flower flower flower~” 

- And whichever caregiver who is on “baby duty” will praise them, today it’s yoongi who takes a second to sit, each of the littles tucked under an arm. yoongi leaning in close and tracing his finger along their pretty lines. “you guys got so far today! almost all of them are filled!” he loves how puffed up both of your chests get at the praise. 

- He can almost tell how far down they were when they first started coloring. on the outside border the flowers are carefully patterned, but the ones just under where you where sitting are full of wilds scribbles. Yoongi reminds himself to take a picture before they wash it, wanting to save a memory of today. 

- “Oh did you make this for us little ones? I bet Joonie’s going to love it you know how much he loves nature! and you even gave each of them little stems.”

- And of course, eventually they find the m/c and koo are asleep in their little puddle of markers. Maybe the m/c has a little bit of purple splotch on her cheek. After they wake them up to put them to bed she whines softly when they clean it off her cheek “oh you poor fussy baby, don’t worry it will only take a second” her cute pout demanding a kiss for every rub.

- Eventually she presses into bed and koo kisses the faintly red spot on her face. his kiss a little wet and open mouthed but so innocent it makes the caregivers bookending them on either side coo. it’s as much of a sorry as koo can articulate right now. his mind feels like marshmellows and stuffed animals, like a too squeezed juice pouch and an empty packet of fruit snacks. totally devoid of big scary thoughts. 

- The caregivers are glad they made the decision to throw out all and every permanent marker in the house after the last little incident when Koo decided that people were a viable canvas. I think their whole house would be full of little doodles from the two littles. When they get big they always blush and say that they don’t need to pin them to every available surface. But the caregivers just shush them because they honestly love their drawings. 

-To the caregivers, their collection of drawings is a representation of the love they have for their two youngest. A mark of a healthy relationship- that they can give love in a way that matters to the two of them. Maybe jimin gets a tattoo of one of their flowers, a little purple one for koo and a pink one for the m/c on his hip at once point. 

- Maybe one day the m/c has what they affectionately call a ‘tiny day’ where she’s small and can’t seem to snap out of it. she tries valiantly, but after that catch her pouting down at her coffee and staring wistfully at her stuffy on the bed they tell her it’s okay. she can be small today and they’ll handle all of the big thoughts. 

- Of course they can’t stay home because they have a track due soon, and alas they are adults, so certain things have to be accounted for. There have been many times that the m/c has had to pretend to be at least a little big in public, luckily for the caregivers their littles are always remarkably well behaved. 

- They treat it as a game, today, bunny is a secret agent and cannot be discovered by anyone, sent to protect the princess. Nothing can happen to her as long as bunny’s there. But no one can see bunny- or else his powers are nullified. It does the trick. They love to see her nodd seriously when Tae weaves the story for her. it makes their heart hurt when they catch her talking to the bunny. “i gots you.” it makes it so hard to seperate from her for the day. 

- Seokjin packs up a day bag and gets her in the comfiest clothes possible and she spends the whole day quietly coloring in the corner of Joonie’s studio with her favorite bunny stuffie in her lap. She’s always careful to tuck him under her blanket and hide him whenever someone comes knocking, pretending to tap away on Namjoon’s tablet, but luckily no one pays her much mind, used to her presence. 

- When the noise and the stimulation gets too much for her namjoon puts her in a pair of noise canceling headphones that play soft nature sounds and pretty soon when he turns around to check on her he finds she’s nodded off in his couch. And he gets up to fix the blanket around her before he goes back to work for a few more hours. 

- She’s still asleep when the others finish up and decide to pry joonie away from work (a feat in itself) and when the others softly knock at the door she gets up, all bleary-eyed and honestly half-asleep rubbing at her eyes with a closed fist. almost tripping in happiness when she sees jungkook. hitting into his chest with a little ooof, almost tripping to get out of her blanket. So excited to see him- her favorite playmate “Koo play now!? koo get tiny!!!??” 

- Already the stress is weighing on Jungkook’s shoulders, his eyes getting all misty when he sees her bunny and the blanket and just wants to regress so bad. He starts to help her clean up the day bag but seokjin and Namjoon ease him away from it.

-  “You’ve got to watch her for us Kookie, can you do that? can you be a good boy?” by now they know how to softly nudge Jungkook into his headspace and it does the trick, lets him have a task before he can truly let go. they end up giggling softly with their foreheads pressed up against each other, telling stupid little jokes that are no doubt from jin and playing with each others hands. 

- On the ride Home, they both hold onto one of bunnies ears in the backseat of their car. Their heads loling by the time they pull into their safe underground parking garage ready for some snuggles and probably a nice relaxing bath for kookie because he hates feeling sweaty from practice when he’s little. He Just wants to sit and play with some bubbles and bath toys while someone runs shampoo through his hair, the soft-smelling kind that's meant for babies.

- Inevitably Koo always looks up from his bubble bath and points at himself and says “baby?” Hobi nods sagely while smoothing his hair into a goofy mohawk, “baby” he agrees.  

- But that’s not exactly true- the better term would be ‘their babies’

~Fin~ 

Please reblog and comment! Likes are nice- but they do little to support content creators! 

(You can find more little space content here)

[oitommothetease]

Invisible String (9/?)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 2k words

You weren't a morning person, hell, you weren’t even a person in the morning. Therefore, when you woke up to two kids playing with your hair and jumping on your bed, you wanted to strangle them or shove them on the floor. But again, you loved those little demons so you just groaned loudly, clearly irritated and you decided to keep your eyes closed, hoping that your ignorance will make them leave you alone. You squeezed your eyes shut and didn't open them until you heard a familiar voice chuckling.

“Carol told me you aren't a morning person, but this-” James didn't finish his sentence, his lips breaking into a cheeky grin, and as much annoyed as you were at his teasing, you kind of thought he looked gorgeous. Who looked so gorgeous this early in the morning? A smile made its way to your face and you instantly wiped it off, feigning offense.

“Carol? You're already on a first-name basis with my sister?”

“Aw, don't worry, doll. I'm just trying to be friendly with your family or should I say my future family as your mother reminded me ten minutes ago,” he pestered, moving towards you to hand you the cup of coffee in his hand. Bucky winked teasingly when you accepted it, and you mumbled a ‘thank you’.

That pet name made your stomach do some somersaults and you didn't trust yourself enough to speak. It's not like the first time he called you ‘doll’, in fact, he had been calling you that the moment you started fake dating. But it was something about the way he said it as if the word was made for you and nobody could say that word unless it wasn't voiced by him for you. He didn't notice the flush in your eyes and even if he did, he didn't mention it.

“That’s it. You’re done hanging out with my family,” you articulated, “You are officially infected.” 

“Don’t be like that, doll. Come on, breakfast’s ready.”

At the age of 18, when you were finally a college girl, you decided that breakfast was a myth created by Satan. When you lived with your parents, the breakfast consisted of extravagant food like pancakes, waffles and fruits. Once you moved away for college, your breakfast shifted to coffee and maybe a toast if you had the time before your first lecture. And the second you were independent, coffee became your boyfriend, keeping you up at night and also, your best friend, keeping you up in the morning without dozing off in classes.

So, sitting again at a dining table with your family and fake boyfriend/boss was very awkward, to say the least. But of course, your sister had the magical ability where she took an awkward silence and converted it into an uncomfortable conversation.

“We hope we didn't wake you up last night. Nick and I tend to get loud sometimes,” Carol joked and you coughed, choking on your food, and James laughed awkwardly. 

James' hand instinctively came to your back, running calming circles with his palm and you shot a deathly glare to your sister. 

“Oh, we know all about that,” James teased, bringing your chair closer to him. Your eyes widened and you whipped your head towards him so quickly that your neck hurt. What was he saying? This man, your boyfriend, fake boyfriend was a completely different person than your boss (not that you were complaining). He was funny, charming, he made you feel comfortable and something else you weren’t ready to point out just yet.

You could see yourself falling for a man like James. No, he is your boss and sort of criminal. Get your shit together, you told yourself.

After the very awkward breakfast, thanks to Carol. Your mother told you to show James around town and you would have said no but that meant you’d have to stay at home with your family, which was worse. So when James accepted your offer to go to your favorite burger place nearby, you were relieved.

“This burger is amazing, but nothing compared to Barry’s,” James stated. 

You nodded your head, chewing the remnant of food in your mouth properly before speaking, “Nothing compares to Sally and her food.”

You liked being with James, everything about him made you want this, the real thing with him, not the whole faux boyfriend play. You wanted him and you were sure that he didn’t. One look at him was sufficient for anyone to know how handsome he was, and how oblivious he was to the waitress ogling him. He didn’t spare her a glance, he was probably used to the attention that he stopped caring about it. Of course, if you weren't overthinking at the moment, you would have noticed that he didn't care about anyone else - well, except you. 

“The waitress was totally checking you out,” you informed James. You were very jealous, but you wouldn't stop your crush on your boss to stop him from living his life. He had already sacrificed a lot for you, you didn't want to cock-block him on top of that.

“No, she wasn’t,” he huffed, looking at you for any sign that this conversation displeased you the way it did him.

“I swear she was,” you said, “You should ask her out. She’s cute.”

 “No, I’m taken.”

“But you’re not taken, James. This isn’t real,” you retorted and it hurt you so much to say. Sometimes you wished you could be a selfish bitch but you couldn’t do that to James. He deserves someone who would cherish and love him, not give him a faux relationship. “You should ask her out.”

 “Do you want me to?” James asked, his voice was laced with desperation that you couldn't understand. Why would he care about your opinion?

Bucky hoped that you would say no, he needed a sign to know that you wanted him too. His tone was despondent because he was hoping that this could be more. He really wanted it to be. But when you said yes, everything came shattering down for him. You didn’t want him and God, he was so frustrated that he could cry. What sick game was the universe playing with him? He felt like a rat stuck in a cage with cheese right outside, in front of him. Even though he was so close to you, you were still out of his reach.

“You know what?,” he pondered, “Now that I think about it maybe I should ask her out?”

“Like right now?” you questioned, taken aback by his sudden and unexpected change in demeanor.

“Yeah!” he cheered enthusiastically, “No time like the present, right? You can get home by yourself?”

He didn’t wait for your answer, already walking back towards the restaurant, and you murmured a ‘yeah’ which he didn’t even notice because he was already jogging towards the burger place.

When you reached home alone, tears welled up in your eyes, and you ran up to the bathroom to avoid stumbling upon your family. Maybe you shouldn't have pushed him, maybe if you didn’t then he wouldn’t have pursued the waitress. He wouldn’t have gone if you didn’t shove him towards the cute waitress. Why were you such a good person?

Your thoughts were brought to a halt with frantic knocks on the door. Instantly, you wiped your eyes and opened up the door to be met with your sister’s kids. Izzy and Alex didn’t give you any time before getting a hold of your hand and rushing you outside to help them set up the trampoline.

Your family was already out there, and you hoped your face didn’t say, ’I've been crying in the bathroom.’ Your sister and her husband were seated on a blanket which was spread out on the grass, sipping wine, and your parents were admiring their grandchildren.

“Auntie Y/N!” Alex exclaimed and Izzy added, “Help us fix the trampoline please.”

You agreed because those two were the only people in the world that considered you their friend without asking for anything in return. Moreover, it was a good distraction, if you stayed in a room thinking about James, then you would probably lose your sanity. So, once you started setting up the trampoline for the kids, it became somewhat fun, and you almost forgot all about James, and how he must be talking to that girl and how that girl must be flirting with him. You hoped he didn’t call her doll, you knew you were being unreasonable and immature, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Izzy and Alex made their way towards their parents and whispered something about you being so in love with James that his absence made you angry.

You ignored them and the way your sister smiled, you were so focused on fitting the trampoline spring that you did not realize someone was standing behind you until two strong hands came around you, taking the spring from your hand and attaching it to the corner. 

You knew it was James, no one would touch your hand so gently, any other man would have snatched the spring from your hold and mansplained it’s process to you. But James wasn’t doing that, he wanted to be near you, to have your attention fully that is why he took the spring from you. He didn’t undermine you. No, he desired you to notice him, the guy who has been trying all weekend to get you to like him. He wanted you to see Bucky, not your boss, James.

You could feel his head looming over your shoulder, you dared to crane your neck in his direction to find him already looking at you with a smile on his face. You were so dazed in his eyes that you didn’t notice that he was wearing a white shirt instead of the one he wore in the morning. You did not notice that he didn’t leave you to get the waitress’s number, instead he got a customized shirt that read 'I heart Y/N'. You only noticed him.

Furthermore, you didn’t care about anything else at the moment, just him. Bucky eyed your lips longer than he should have and leaned a bit towards you; a question. You answered his question by closing the distance between you and crashing your lips with his. His hands engulfed around your waist, flushing your back against his chest and he kissed you feverishly. 

The kids were right.

You were in love, and that love was reciprocated by the man who was holding you like you were his archer and kissing you like you were the source of his last breath. But both of you were too unaware to realize that the other felt the same way.

Everyone could see that, your mother looked over at your father and your sister looked at her husband, smiling, reminiscing the way they fell in love just like you and Bucky. The kids looked at you both with hope, aspiring to have a love like that in their future, the kind they saw in movies and in the couples around them.

What you didn't realize was that there was one other set of eyes watching you from a car in the distance. Rumlow finally found his rival's vulnerability, and he was going to do everything in his power to exploit and eventually kill Bucky’s weakness, his love, you. 

TAGS:  @bananapipedreams​ @akkinda10​ @rivers-rambles21​ @emmabarnes​ @valsworldofcreativity​ @boofy1998​ @marvel-3407​ @mybuck​ @priii​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @ladydmalfoy​ @shaking-a-jar-of-bees 

[mandoalorian]

sensational

Maxwell Lord x F!Reader

Summary: Maxwell is away on a business trip for work, and you’re missing him more than you anticipated.

Word count: 2,2k

Warnings: 18+ smut; guided masturbation, male masturbation, female masturbation, light degradation, edging, orgasm denial, phone sex, long distance after care 🥺

Authors note: I’ve missed writing. So here’s a little something for Maxie cuz I’ve missed him too :( <3

Maxwell had only been gone sixteen hours. He left at 6am, and it was currently: you rolled over to check the time on your bedside alarm clock. 10pm. You frowned, pulling the crushed velveteen blankets up to your chin. He was probably fast asleep now anyway— after the flight and a long day proposing business scheme after business scheme.

You missed him a lot. He promised to call you every morning and every night, so long as he wasn’t swamped at the office. That was his promise and truthfully, you thought you’d be okay. He was only due to be away for a week. You knew a lot of other long-distance couples had it much worse. But being alone in his big suburban house was more isolating than you had ever even considered. It felt empty without him, and it didn’t feel like home anymore.

At least tomorrow you’d get to see Alistair, so that was a plus. You mentally groaned as you remembered how you were going to have to visit Maxwell’s ex-wife in order to pick up his son. She didn’t seem to like you all that too much, and to be honest, you could probably do without the chore of visiting her every Tuesday evening and putting up with her crap. It would be okay though. Alistair was worth it.

Your mind wandered back to your boyfriend. Your smart, handsome and powerful boyfriend with the honey coloured hair and chocolate brown eyes. He was always soft and warm— and a fantastic lover. Not only he was an excellent businessman, but he was also a brilliant father and a wonderful partner. He really was the perfect man for you.

You smiled wickedly to yourself as you remembered last night, and the antics you had both gotten up to before he had to leave in the morning. It was a long, passionate night. Your fingers ghosted over the love bites and bruises that were peppered across your neck and collarbones, and you gasped at the memory, a familiar heat rushing down your body.

If only he was here now… you two could’ve done it all over again.

Your glazed eyes flicked up to the telephone that was on your bedside table. You must’ve been staring at it for a good few minutes, contemplating things. Maxwell had scrawled the number to his hotel room down on a card before he’d left… just in case of an emergency.

You dipped your hand down to your cunt and felt your breathing hitch as you gathered all your slick on your fingers. You hadn’t realised just how wet you’d become.

Just call him. The devil on your shoulder urged. If he was sleeping, you certainly didn’t want to wake him but… surely there was no harm in an innocent goodnight call. At least then, you could hear his warm voice and his articulate words.

Maxwell Lord had you whipped.

Sighing, you took the phone from the hook and dialled his number. He answered on the first two rings.

“Hey honey,” he had a tired lilt to his voice, but just the depth and richness of his tone was enough to set a blaze in your tummy. “I was just about to go to bed,” he continued. “It’s late. Why are you still up?”

Yes, his voice was giving you everything you had desired, and more.

You swallowed thickly, your finger tracing lazy circles over your clit. “Mm couldn’t sleep. Was thinkin’ bout you.” you revealed, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible. If you could get off to his voice alone, without having him notice what you were doing, that would be perfect. If he did catch on that you were touching yourself without his permission though… that would be a different story. “Miss you.” you exhaled, your eyes snapping shut.

“I miss you too sweetheart,” Max sighed, and you could faintly hear him shuffle around in his bed, the sheets making a fuzzy noise on the other end of the line. “What— what were you thinking about?”

The question was a trap. You knew Max all too well. He was right to have his suspicions.

You didn’t even bother opening your eyes, and you tried to repress a longing whine as your finger involuntary picked up speed, like some kind of reflex reaction to his question. “S-stuff,” you stammered out when you felt your fingers begin to dampen and slip between your folds. But ‘S-stuff’ was hardly going to be good enough for Maxwell. You dipped two fingers inside you, surprised at how well they were stretching you. “Mm— Max, miss— I miss—“

You couldn’t even finish your sentence, already close to pushing your first climax out.

“Princess?” Max asked. “You there?”

Your response was delayed but was followed by a stifled moan that wasn’t lost on Max whatsoever. “Need you.” you gasped out, dropping the phone to your pillow by your head so you could use your other hand to rub yourself.

The friction of your digits rubbing against that sweet spot and the way your index finger and middle finger curled up inside of you was too much. You could feel yourself coming undone.

“Oh,” Max omitted knowingly, unable to contain the small smirk that was crossing his lips. “Oh baby.”

He felt his cock twitch from the faint little whimpers you were making, and he slid his hand under the waistband of his light grey sweats, freeing his already semi-hard erection.

“Tell me princess,” Max hummed. “What ‘stuff’ were you thinking about?”

Fuck. You wanted to curse. He knew. He clearly knew you were touching yourself to the sound of his voice; probably thinking you were needy and desperate. But you were. You really were and you’d give anything just to feel his hands on you right now.

“S-so much,” you answered, trying your hardest to collect your thoughts for him. “Undressing me. Caressing me. Mm, you playing with my tits like you always do. Kissing them— sucking them. Biting…” you reluctantly pulled your finger from your clit and began to palm at your breasts. “Come home.”

The two words were practically begging him. You ached for him. Your entire body was burning with arousal and you needed him more than you’d ever needed anyone before.

You knew it was a stupid request; and that he couldn’t just ‘come home’. But if you could have one wish— it would be for him to be on top of you right now, smothering you with kisses and whispering dirty little words into your ears.

“M-Max?” your voice was broken as you continued curling your fingers inside of you.

His fingers were wrapped around his own length now, pumping it as he imagined you sprawled out, naked on his king-sized bed. The grey sweats and white shirt had been long discarded onto the floor.

“I’m right here baby,” he assured, gathering the beads of milky white precum and rubbing it up and down his cock. “I’m here. Why— why don’t you take my pillow and grind your pretty pussy over it hm? I know you can get off like that, you dirty girl.”

Another uncontrollable whine omitted from your lips at his light degradation. You followed his orders, knowing better than to disobey. Taking his pillow, you got on your knees and positioned it in between your legs, holding the phone to your ear as you began to thrust your hips.

You imagined it be his lap. You’d rubbed yourself over his thighs plenty of times, making a mess of his designer pants and creating stains not even the drycleaner’s could remove. His pillow still vaguely smelt of his apple scented shampoo and it only spurred you on even more.

“I bet you look so pretty right now,” Maxwell grunted. “My pretty girl. What are you?”

You squeezed your eyes shut as the pleasure rifed through your veins. “I’m your pretty girl.” you confirmed, feeling your cheeks heat up when Max chuckled.

It was a sensation overload— and you knew you wouldn’t be able to last. Maxwell knew too, judging by the way your moans picked up and became jagged. “God— Ma-Mmm—Max,” your thoughts were fuzzy and jumbled as you increased your pace. You wanted to feel something inside of you again. Your fingers or a dildo or— something, anything. But you weren’t even sure if you’d get the chance. “I’m so close,” you warned. “Gonna— gonna cum—“

“No,” Max said darkly, his voice having lowered an octave. “Roll on your back princess, and pull the pillow off you.”

You wanted to cry. You knew he always liked to play these games.

“B—but,” you choked out, wanting to finish and reach your orgasm.

“Don’t make me ask again.”

He was using that scary business voice. The one you often overheard when he was on the phone with partners or associates. Reluctantly you pulled the pillow away from your weeping cunt put it back in its place.

“O-okay,” you mused, wiping the tears that had pricked at the corner of your eyes as you changed position and got comfortable on your back, just like he’d instructed.

“I wish I was with you sweetheart, wish I could fuck your little pussy. How wet are you?”

“Very.” you replied exasperated, desperately waiting for him to let you touch yourself again.

“Show me,” Maxwell smiled wickedly. “Move the phone in between your legs and finger yourself. I want to hear you.”

You frantically followed his instruction and inserted your two fingers inside of you, pushing them deep and curling them upwards so they hit that hot, spongey sweet spot. Your legs were shaking and your back was arched over top of the satin sheets as you panted your boyfriend’s name.

Max was more than thrilled to hear the squelching wet noise that echoed throughout the comfort of yours and his shared bedroom, with every thrust and curl of your fingers. It felt good but… it just wasn’t him.

Now his own broken gasps were audible. You loved to hear him. He always got loud when he was close. That’s how you knew he was about to finish. “So— so good. Sweetest cunt in the whole fuck—fucking world. When I come home I— gonna fuck you so hard.” he promised in between shaky breaths.

Your lips curled into a grin and you arched your back as your slick dipped down the softness of your inner thighs. After all the edging and over stimulation, there was no way you were going to last. This was exactly what you wanted; Max may not have been physically there but his voice alone had always worked wonders.

“Can we— can we cum togeth—“ your request was fuzzled by the way you buried your head into your pillow, feeling a warm flush of heat race to your core.

“Yes,” Max cut you off impatiently. “Are you close?”

“Y-yeah, I don’t think I can hold it—“

“You can baby, you can. I’m going to count down from three and we’ll cum together. Okay?”

You were a screaming sweating mess at this point, and his countdown couldn’t have felt any slower. Three seconds felt like three years as you mustered all your will to obey him.

“Three, two, one—“

He didn’t even say zero. The countdown was followed by a long groan falling from his lips as his milky white seed spilt all over his fist and his tummy. His cry pushed you over the edge and you released your own climax, spasming and shaking on his side of the bed.

You curled up under his sheets, still shaky, and pulled the phone back to your ear. “Hi,” you whispered sheepishly. “That was good.” you bit down on your lip, smiling to yourself. Your own voice was a little hoarse from all the moaning and whimpering.

“Yeah,” Max agreed, smiling himself. “Are you okay?”

“I’m tired,” you admitted with a huff, relishing in his cologne scented blankets.

“Wish I was there to clean you up,” Max sighed, and for a split second, he pondered the consequences of catching the next flight home.

He always took care of you after sex, paying a meticulous amount of detail to how you acted after your moments of shared intimacy. He’d fetch you water and wipe away any mess with a warm wash cloth. Sometimes he’d even help you into some cozy pyjamas or one of his shirts.

“I can go clean myself up, don’t worry about me,” you hummed in contentment. “Are you okay?”

“I’m perfect baby,” he grinned “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

“I can let you go—“

“No,” you cut him off, clutching onto the phone not wanting him to leave. Yeah you’d missed the amazing sex but truthfully, you’d missed him the most. “Can we uhm, can we just stay here on the phone together? Fall asleep together? I— I want you to be there when you wake up.”

Max hesitated for a moment, but he didn’t see a problem with your request. In fact, he thought it was a wonderful idea.

“Yeah, of course honey,” he replied softly. “I’m gonna go wipe myself down. You should do the same.”

“O-okay,” you sniffed. “I love you. I won’t be long.”

When you returned, Max was already waiting for you. “Princess?” he called, when he heard you shuffle back into bed.

“Hiya,” you giggled, rubbing your eyes. “I’m sleepy.” you admitted, your statement followed by a yawn.

Max chuckled. “Has my girl worn herself out?”

You laughed and nodded your head. “Yeah.”

“Okay sweetheart, let’s go sleep.” Max hummed, resting the phone by his pillow and closing his eyes.

“Okay, good night Maxie.” you mused softly.

“Good night honey.” He returned, before you both fell asleep.

——————

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[imekitty]

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10

The idea for this part came from @dp-marvel94. Thanks!

—

Jack watched the newest clone sleep. The boy’s chest rose and fell, rhythmically, deeply, gently.

Besides the number 14 tattooed on his upper arm, he looked exactly like Danny in his human form.

Jack rested his arms on the examination table, watching the clone’s face for any change or stirring consciousness. He had been instructed to stay by the clone’s side and mark the exact time he woke while Maddie was upstairs waiting to see when Danny would leave for his patrol.

Jack hoped the clone wouldn’t wake at all this time.

He glanced over the notes Maddie had made for their research and experimentation with this clone, who had been here several days now. Not the longest they had kept a clone. There was the tenth clone they starved who didn’t die for a few weeks.

Jack wasn’t sure which he hated more: the experiments that killed the clones quickly or the ones that required keeping the clones alive for an extended amount of time.

Either way, the clones screamed and screamed but were unheard outside the soundproofed lab.

And Maddie ignored them all.

The clone’s body twitched against the belts strapping him to the table. Jack watched the clone’s eyes slit open before looking at the clock and jotting down a time on his notepad.

“Oh, God,” the clone moaned. “Oh, God, no.”

Jack noted the clone’s watery eyes and thick articulation. “How are you feeling? Headache? Nausea? Do you know where you are right now?”

“Where is she?” The clone’s face paled. “Mom?”

“She doesn’t like you calling her that,” said Jack. “And she’s not here yet. Please just tell me how you’re feeling. You know what happens when you make things hard for us.”

The clone swallowed. “My neck and throat hurt. I’m really thirsty.”

Jack recorded the clone’s words. “I’ll see if Maddie will let you have some water before we start tonight.”

The clone sniffled. “I keep hoping I’ll wake up in my bed.”

Jack lowered his eyes.

“What are you going to do to me this time?” whispered the clone.

“More drug trials,” said Jack.

The clone shut his eyes, tears trickling from the corners. “No. Please. I don’t want to do any more. Not again.”

“I know,” said Jack. “Hopefully one of them will knock you out again so you can sleep through most of the day until tomorrow night.”

“No. No, I don’t want that, I just want to leave, I just—”

The clone’s chest convulsed, his body writhing against the restraints. Jack clenched his teeth and clasped his hands on the table.

“It hurts so much,” wept the clone. “Dad, please, I can’t do this anymore.”

“I’m not your dad,” said Jack. This was how Maddie was able to do this guilt free, convince herself that the clone was not her son.

So why wasn’t this working for him too?

“You’re not Danny,” he said more quietly.

The clone choked on a sob. “You keep telling me that. You keep telling me that I’m not real, that I’m a clone.”

The clone looked at the far wall, his eyes glassing over.

“But this feels real.” His words were barely audible, hardly voiced. “I feel real. And I don’t know why you and Mom are keeping me here like this.”

Jack pressed his hands to his forehead. “Maddie is so much better at this,” he muttered.

“Why are you keeping me here?” asked the clone.

“It’s just for research,” said Jack, lowering his hands with a tired sigh. “You’re not the first clone we’ve had here in this lab. You’re not going to be the first we kill here.” He paused. “And you won’t be the last.”

The clone’s breathing became erratic, shallow. “I don’t want to die,” he gasped. “I don’t—not here—not like this—”

Jack looked away from the clone’s face. Too pitiful, too sad, too much like Danny.

“You can’t,” the clone blubbered. “Don’t. Please. Don’t do this, Dad.”

Jack looked toward the lab door. Maddie still wasn’t here.

He looked at the clone again. The clone blinked wet eyes.

He imagined the clone’s unmoving body. He imagined zipping it up in another bag and carrying it to Vlad’s lab because Maddie always made him carry the body.

He knew exactly what the clone would look like when he died. Jack had seen it thirteen times now.

He did not want to see it a fourteenth.

Jack moved quickly, undoing the belts around the clone’s ankles, wrists, and abdomen.

“Go,” he said once the last belt was undone. “Leave.”

The clone sat up on the table and stared at Jack with his mouth hanging open.

“Go. Before Maddie gets here,” said Jack quietly but firmly. “Get far away from here and don’t come back.”

The clone clutched the fabric of his hospital gown against his chest.

“Go,” said Jack more forcefully, “or you will die.”

The clone pulled his knees up under him. Jack gave him a final warning glare. The clone transformed into his ghost form and shot up through the ceiling, vanishing beyond it.

Jack hunched over the now vacant examination table.

The lab door opened. Jack listened to the sound of Maddie’s boots clicking on the stairs.

“Sorry I took so long,” said Maddie. “I kept waiting to see when Danny was going to leave for his nightly patrol. But he decided to do his homework instead and then went to bed, no patrol. It’s interesting how he sometimes chooses being a good student over a hero.”

Jack straightened but did not say anything. Maddie stopped a short distance away from the table.

“Where’s the clone?” she asked.

Jack didn’t look at her.

“Where’s the clone?” she asked again, her tone sharpening.

“He’s gone,” said Jack.

“Gone? What do you mean, gone?”

“I let him go.”

Maddie froze.

“Why?” she asked with a dark thickness.

“I couldn’t do it again, Maddie.”

Her nostrils flared. Her upper lip curled in a snarl.

“I told him to get away from here,” said Jack. “Far away so you can’t hurt him anymore. So you can’t kill him.”

Maddie stared at him. Jack waited for her to snap, to scream.

But instead, she turned on her heel and stomped up the stairs out of the lab. Jack released a sigh as the lab door slammed shut.

He set to cleaning and organizing the lab. He wasn’t about to go up to bed right now, not when Maddie was this angry with him.

Hours later, Jack rubbed his eyes and checked the clock. Nearly four in the morning. Should he go upstairs to bed, or should he sleep on the couch? Or even down here in the lab?

The lab door opened. Jack furrowed his brow and turned toward the stairs. Maddie’s boots clicked on each step as usual, but something else thumped along beside her, something that sounded heavy.

Maddie appeared at the base of the stairs, her orange goggles set over her eyes and aimed right at Jack, her lips curved in a stern frown.

Beside her, she held the fourteenth clone by the wrist, now in his human form and wearing the hospital gown Vlad had originally dressed him in. He was slumped on the floor, covered in gashes and scrapes, his left eye bloodied.

“Maddie.” Jack gaped. “Maddie, what did you—”

Maddie gripped the clone’s wrist tighter and lifted him off the floor. “He has the same ecto-signature Danny does. All the clones do. It was easy to track him down.”

The clone hung his head.

“You really tracked him down just to bring him back here?” asked Jack.

“Of course I did,” snapped Maddie. “You know we can’t just let these clones free. We can’t risk Danny running into them. Or God forbid, the Guys in White capturing them.”

Jack watched a trickle of blood fall from past the clone’s hairline down his forehead.

“So what do you want to do now?” asked Jack quietly, calmly. “Proceed with your plans for this clone?”

“No. He’s useless now,” said Maddie. “He’s not in proper condition for further experimentation. Everything we’ve done with him is pointless data now.”

Maddie threw the clone forward onto the floor. The clone crumpled and did not get up. His sleeve hiked just above the number 14 tattooed on his arm.

“Waste of our money,” she muttered.

Jack sighed and rubbed the back of his head. “Then what do you want to do with him?”

“Just quick lethal injection,” said Maddie. “Let’s just do it now and go to bed.”

“Quick lethal injection. Glad you’re being humane about this,” said Jack.

Maddie jabbed a finger in his direction. “Don’t start with me. We’ll talk about this in the morning. Right now, I am exhausted.”

“Right. Beating up a teenage boy takes a lot out of you,” said Jack.

Maddie glared at him before moving to the counters to prepare the injection. Jack bent and scooped the clone into his arms. Up close, Jack could now see the red splotches in his eyes, the break in his nose, the split in his bottom lip.

He didn’t beg for anything this time.

—

The next morning, Danny met Sam and Tucker outside on the school steps.

“Hey, I thought you said you weren’t going on patrol last night,” said Tucker.

“Yeah, you said you actually wanted to get some sleep for once,” said Sam with a wry smile.

“You should’ve told us you changed your mind!” said Tucker. “We would’ve joined you. Or did your ghost sense go off?”

Danny frowned. “I didn’t go out last night. What are you talking about?”

“I saw you flying last night,” said Tucker. “I was looking out my window and saw you.”

“What? You saw me?”

“Did you decide to go for just a night flight?” asked Sam.

“No, I didn’t go out at all. You couldn’t have seen me.”

“It looked just like you,” said Tucker. “Are you sure you weren’t out last night?”

The first bell rang. Students began shuffling past them into the building.

“I wasn’t out last night,” said Danny. “I actually finished my homework for once and then went to bed.”

“Huh.” Tucker shrugged. “I guess it was a different ghost with white hair in a black suit.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time you were seeing things,” teased Sam. “Your eyes were probably bugging out from staying up too late playing video games.”

“They were not!”

“Were you even wearing your glasses?”

“Yes, of course I was!”

Sam and Tucker led the way inside the school. Danny followed, but not before glancing up at the sky.

Part 12

[daydreamingfics]

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 513

"Baby, you hang up first,"

"No baby, you hang up first,"

Your nightly bedtime conversations with Jisung always reached a point where one or both of you, riddled with lethargy from your perspective schedules, slowly began dozing off. Having conceded early on that hearing the other's voice when you couldn't physically be together was essential, and a sense of comfort, it was safe to declare the nocturnal calls a ritual by this point. A tradition that you both held close to your hearts and looked forward to, especially if the day proved to be a challenging one. Knowing that no matter what, the last voice you'd hear before you drifted off to dreamland was that of the person you loved and cherished most.

"Baby," Jisung groggily whispered on the other end of the line. The ordinarily rich and thunderous tone of his speech, now several octaves lower and softer than usual, indicating that the effects of a longspun day were gradually consuming him. There was always something about his voice that got you every single time, and before you knew it, the corners of your mouth turned skyward as you relished in the reality that Han Jisung was yours, and you were his.  

"Yes, baby," you replied in a half yawn that took you both by surprise and sent the cutest chuckle past Jisung's lips to your ears, which then ignited the warm fuzzies that burst within you upon hearing your beau's adorable and manly laugh.

"You hang up first, cutie, " Jisung expressed in a very tongue in cheek fashion.

"No, handsome, you first," You returned with just as much quip.

Another nightly custom was the cat and mouse game you two affectionately engaged in and dubbed "you first." Whenever the call was nearing its end, neither of you, though sleepy, wanted to hang up. In the end, you always wound up falling asleep together. Weary whispers of the future you two dreamt up together and winsome "I love you's." exchanged as your thoughts drifted off and you sunk a little deeper into the cozy confines of your bed. All to wake up and do it all over again the very next nightfall.

"Together then? Like always," Jisung vocalized, followed by yet another yawn, his third in a row, to be exact. You not being far behind in the yawn department as another erupted to the surface as if your tired bodies were working as one.

"Together," you articulated gleefully.

"One day, you'll be right here, in my arms every single night Y/N. One day," Jisung uttered amorously.

"And I can't wait for that day, baby," you sincerely returned. "Before we fall asleep, I love you, and I can't wait to hear all about your day that hasn't even started yet," you laughed. "Sleep tight,"

"Don't let the bed bugs bite," Jisung finished your two's patented line. "You're so cute, Y/N, and I love you more and can't wait to hear all about your day too. Goodnight, baby,"

"Goodnight, baby," you uttered as you both finally succumbed to slumber, together, as always.

[woogyu]

3. “Would you just shut up and kiss me already?”

26. “No, like..its just, i cant believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.”

Drabble Prompts; fluff | angst | funny // Requests; OPEN

notes; student!chan x student!reader, this is just pure fluff, i know a lot of people are doing exams rn so. Thank you so much for requesting 

wc; 1386

You knew when Chan asked you to come over and “study” that minimal studying would end up getting done. It’s just, you thought his attention span would last longer than 5 minutes.

“come onnnnnn y/n, let’s take a break” Chan whined, curled up on the couch next to you, his books now on the floor forgotten. You sighed and glanced away from your calculus notes to see him giving you pathetic puppy dog eyes.

“I’ve barely been here for 5 minutes” you said flatly, itching to get back to reviewing your notes. Your calculus exam was tomorrow, and you were not all that confident in how you were going to perform. You could almost see the gears turning in his head, trying to figure out the best approach to get you to give in.

“Let’s just grab a quick snack! You always study better after you’ve eaten” he said brightly, already moving your notes away from you and setting them on the small coffee table. The thing about Chan is that he knew you well, he knew you too well. It came from the years the two of you had spent together, countless nights watching movies and playing video games. Most of the time Chan knew you better than you knew yourself. He knew that you couldn’t say no to him. What he didn’t know was the reason why you couldn’t say no to him. He didn’t know about the way your heart sped up when he pulled you into his lap, or how you fell asleep at night thinking about him. Chan is your best friend in the entire world, and he had no idea you were hopelessly in love with him.

“I’m setting a timer for 30 minutes” you grumbled, letting him pull you to your feet and following him into the kitchen. You preferred coming over to his place, it was always quieter, and he made sure to keep your favourite snacks stocked up. You pulled yourself up, so you were sitting on the edge of the counter as he rummaged around in the fridge and cabinets.

“Ice cream or popcorn?” he asked, turning as he held up the two options. You smiled a little, he chose both of your favourites instead of his own. You pointed to the ice cream in his right hand, watching him smile back at you. You always thought you would get over this little ‘crush’ but that never happened. Your feelings for Chan were only growing as time went on. The worst part of it all was that you had no idea how he felt. He always bordered the line between friend and lover, never fully committing to one side or the other.

Lost in your thoughts you didn’t notice Chan handing you the bowl with ice cream in it, your hands reaching up too late to grasp it. You watched as it slipped through your fingers, pouring ice cream down the front of your shirt and falling to the ground with a crash. It took you a second to register what had happened, your eyes widening as a blush fell over your cheeks.

“I’m so sorry Chan” you groaned, looking down at the shattered bowl on the ground. You slid off the counter and began to pick up some of the broken pieces before he stopped you.

“Be careful, I’ll get that. Here you must be freezing, I’ll grab something you can change into” he said, giving you a reassuring smile before darting off to his room. He was back no more than a second later and handed you one of his hoodies. “It’s clean, I promise” Chan said with a soft chuckle, grabbing a damp cloth and began to clean up the mess.

“Thank you” you mumbled for the hoodie, cheeks burning as you quickly walked to the bathroom. Sliding out of your sticky shirt, you laid it on the sink as you quickly wiped off the remaining residue using a washcloth. After you were satisfied that you weren’t going to ruin Chan’s hoodie, you slid it over your head. The smell of Chan’s cologne hit you, your eyes closing as you took a deep breath. This was one of those moments that blurred the line between best friends and something more. It was moments like these that made you long for something, anything more.

When you walked back into the kitchen Chan had already finished cleaning everything up and was popping some popcorn for the two of you. “Feel better? I figured ice cream was off-“he stopped short when he turned away from the microwave and toward you. Your eyebrows furrowed together in confusion; he was looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite figure out.

“What?” you asked, looking down to see if you had something on you that would warrant him looking you up and down like that. He seemed to consider something for a moment before swallowing and moving toward you. “Is there something on my face?” you asked, confused as you reached up to rub your forehead. You stepped back as he walked toward you, heart-rate picking up. You stopped only when your back hit the kitchen cabinets, watching him as he closed the distance between the two of you. When there were only inches separating your bodies he finally realized what he was doing and inhaled sharply.

“I-“ he started, pausing and closing his eyes for a second. “I’m not used to seeing you wearing my stuff” he said finally, opening his eyes to look down at you. You frowned a little bit, “I can go quickly rinse and dry my shirt and change back into that if you want” you said, confused as to what he was getting at.

He seemed caught off guard by your comment, his cheeks slowly reddening “No, like..its just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.”, he finally said. You watched as his eyes slowly slid over you, blushing as you started to understand. He must have realized what he had said, as his eyes snapped up to yours almost alarmed and looking for any sign of discomfort.

“I’ve thought about telling you this about a hundred times, and this was never how I wanted to do it. I wanted to take you out on a picnic or to an amusement park or something. Buy you dinner and win you a stuffed animal from one of those carnival games. There are so many things that I want to do with you, y/n… but not as friends” he said, his words panicked and rushed. “I want to be able to hold your hand whenever I want and cuddle with you. Take you out on dates, and let you steal my sweaters” he said with a chuckle. “I want to be your best friend, but also so so much more” he breathed, looking down at you with a serious expression so you knew he wasn’t joking.

You were positive that your heart was no longer beating, were you actually hearing these words come out of his mouth or was this some weird hallucination. Your mouth parted slowly as you tried to figure out what to say, how to articulate all the pent-up feelings you had for him. When you didn’t say anything, he panicked a little bit, thinking he overstepped a line. “Only if you want to be of course! I mean we can still stay best friends, I’m never gonna stop being your friend or anything. I just have had feelings for you for a long time and…” he said, flustered as he moved to step away from you.

Before he could step back you reached out and grabbed a fistful of his shirt, looking up at him with a soft smile. “Would you just shut up and kiss me already?” you said with a nervous chuckle. He froze, looking down at you to see if you were joking or not. When he saw that you were serious, that all the feelings he had built up were echoed in your eyes he beamed.

“With pleasure” he said before fully closing the distance between the two of you and pressing his lips to yours. All of the daydreams and fantasies you had about this moment were nothing when compared to the real thing.

[pregnant-piggy]

Summer Games - four

Blaise Zabini x reader

masterlist

warnings: no pronouns used for the reader, mentions of food

A/N: the final part! I had a lot of fun writing something so light and without much drama and I hope you all liked it too! One more thanks to @omgrachwrites​ for the writing challenge and congrats on your milestone again -xxx-

written for @omgrachwrites​​ writing challenge with the prompts: ‘I can’t have this argument with you again.’ ‘But—’ ‘No, I’m done.’ and ‘Sorry… your hair was in your face… thought  I should move it so I could see you better.’

word count: 4.0k

Small rays of sunshine were peeking through the cracks in the curtains, lighting up the room Blaise was lying in. He rubbed his hands over his face and let out a sigh.

He was excited for today, to finally hear what team had won the Summer Games, but he was also disappointed that this was the last day and he had gotten nowhere with you. It was just like it had been at Hogwarts—there was flirting and joking and catching the other staring, but neither of you had ever done something beyond that and Blaise was afraid there was nothing more to it.

Groaning he got up from his bed and with little eyes he searched for his clothes. Draco was still asleep in the bed next to Blaise’s and Blaise figured that he wouldn’t wake any time soon. Last night you had told your friends that they didn’t have to get up early and Blaise knew that Draco would take full advantage of that by not coming out of bed until absolutely necessary.

Blaise sneaked downstairs silently, trying not to wake anyone. He was sure that you were awake already, but he didn’t know if your grandparents were still sleeping and he didn’t want to wake them. However, when he stepped into the kitchen he found your grandfather sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in his hand, reading the papers.

‘Morning,’ he greeted Blaise and this one nodded back. ‘Sleep well?’

‘After Draco shut up, yeah,’ Blaise said.

‘He talks a lot?’

‘He whines a lot,’ Blaise huffed and then he shrugged. ‘You learn to tune it out after a few years.’

Your grandfather chuckled and looked up from his newspaper. He nodded to the backdoor with somewhat of a grin on his face. ‘y/n’s outside.’

‘Thanks.’ Blaise shot the man a smile and left through the door, stepping into the backyard of the house.

The garden was your grandfather’s terrain. It was full of flowers and plants everywhere, making it feel like you stepped into paradise when entering the place. Bees were circling above the brightest flowers, creating a little symphony with their buzzing. There was a small path through the plants that led to a little patio in the back of the garden, where you were sitting on a bench with a book in your hand.

You belonged in that paradise, Blaise realised. The green and flowers around you complemented you, making you even more beautiful than Blaise thought you could get. You looked so soft and delicate it made his heart sore and all he wanted was to look at you.

That, however, seemed a tad creepy to him, so instead he walked the little path and sat down next to you. You looked up from your book and smiled at him.

‘Look at you, awake so early in the morning,’ you laughed and closed your book.

‘What can I say? You’ve infected me,’ Blaise shrugged. ‘It’s your fault, really.’

‘No, I think that subconsciously you just wanted to spend time with me,’ you said, pricking Blaise in his chest with your finger.

‘Of course, and it has nothing to do with Draco’s weird snoring at all,’ Blaise said sarcastically and you rolled your eyes, giving him a little shove. ‘Don’t roll your eyes at me!’ he cried. ‘It’s really annoying!’

Blaise brought his mouth to your ear and started to make snoring noises. You shivered at the weird feeling and tried to get away but Blaise wrapped his arms around you and held you close. Goose bumps formed on your arms and the more you tried to get free the more Blaise pulled you closer.

‘Blaise, please, stop!’ you screeched and placed both your hands on his chest to push him away.

Finally he pulled back and looked at your flushed face. You were staring back at him with a laugh on your face and your hands still on his chest. Suddenly Blaise became aware of how much he wanted to kiss you now you were so close. He could see sun reflecting in your eyes and the shine on your eyelashes. You were so close and it would be so easy to lean into you.

It costed Blaise all his strength to let go of you and avert his eyes.

You let a sigh fall from your lips when you pulled your hands away. Blaise’s body ached to get close to you, but he knew he wouldn’t until it was clear where exactly you were standing. He didn’t want to cross any lines if it meant ruining your friendship.

You got up from the bench and extended your hand to Blaise.

‘Come on,’ you said with a smile. ‘The others won’t be up soon, let’s do something fun.’

/\/\/\

An hour later you were walking with Blaise through the village as it was waking up. You had gone to Hank’s and now you were walking with his delicious cherry pastries in your hand. Though you loved the pastry, unfortunately it also meant that you couldn’t hold Blaise’s hand.

Having fun with Blaise was easy. You always had something to talk about, jokes came naturally and he understood you even when you couldn’t articulate your thoughts. When you were with Blaise time always passed too quickly and more than often you wished you had just a little longer with him.

You and Blaise sat down on a bench opposite of the library you were at yesterday and watched the people walk by in silence while you ate the cherry pastries.

‘Do your grandparents know we’re wizards?’ Blaise eventually broke the silence after he finished his pastry.

You nodded. ‘Yeah, they do. It’s kind of hard to hide something like that from them,’ you said, licking your fingers. ‘But we don’t really talk about it. They know about Hogwarts a bit, but not much more.’

Blaise looked at you and raised his eyebrow. ‘So if they know about magic, why’d we spent the entire week like muggles?’

You burst out in giggles and shook your head. ‘I thought it’d be fun,’ you shrugged. ‘We’ve just had seven years of Hogwarts, why not be a muggle for a week?’

You turned to Blaise and he chuckled softly.

‘What?’ you asked suspiciously.

‘There’s jam on your face,’ he smiled.

‘What? Where?’

You brought your hand to your cheek and tried to feel for the jam, but Blaise pushed your hand away. With big eyes you stared at him as he rested the palm of his hand on your jaw and wiped the cherry jam away with his thumb. It was as if your heart was beating out of your chest as he held his hand on your face a little longer, the heat radiating from his fingers.

Blaise cleared his throat and he quickly looked away, cleaning his finger with a napkin. You snapped out of your stare and looked at the side of Blaise’s face. He had been so close and your heart still hadn’t calmed down.

Pansy had told you time after time that Blaise liked you and a big part of you wanted to believe her, but it was at moments like these when he pulled away that you started to doubt.  And now you were done with the doubts.

Carefully you placed your hand on Blaise’s hand. ‘Blaise—’

However, before you could continue, Blaise took both your hands in his and he looked at you.

‘Tell me to stop and I will stop,’ he said and waited for a moment. When you said nothing he continued. ‘I need to tell you something. Something that’s been on my mind for years, but I’ve never had the guts for to tell. I’ve played this scenario over and over in my head, and sometimes it was good and sometimes it was bad—really bad.’

You stared at Blaise, waiting in anxiety. One part of you knew, suspected, what he was going to tell you, but you refused to get your hopes up. No matter what happened, you wouldn’t walk out one friend less; you would never let heartbreak get in the way of your friendship with Blaise.

‘I like you. Like a lot. And I’ve always been too much of a wuss to admit it, but this last week I’ve… I’ve started to think maybe you’re feeling the same way,’ Blaise confessed and pointed his hopeful eyes at you. ‘Which is why I’d really appreciate it if you said something right now…’

Before you could help it, a big smile spread on your face. A warm fire kindled inside of you, spreading the heat through your entire body. You took a deep breath and shifted a little closer to Blaise.

‘I like you too, Blaise,’ you admitted and relief fell from Blaise like a breath he was holding. ‘And I too, have been a wimp, too scared to confess.’

Blaise brought his face closer to yours and let out a nervous laugh. ‘Guess we’re both cowards like that.’

You were so close now that your noses were almost touching. His breath was hot on your lips, inviting you to come closer. There was a sheepishly happy grin on your face, and you feared it would never leave your mouth again.

‘Can I kiss you?’ you breathlessly asked, looking into Blaise’s dark eyes.

‘Please.’

Then his lips were on yours. Soft, sweet, pouring with feelings that had been bottled up for so long. His hands were somewhere in your waist or on your back—you didn’t know. All you could feel were his lips and the euphoria in your body, exploding with sparkles.

You did not ever want to let him go, but eventually you reached the end of your breath and had to catch some air. There was a stupid smile on your lips and Blaise was wearing the same grin. Slowly you kissed him again, and again and again, until your lips were bruised.

The feeling you had, was growing inside you with every minute you spent in Blaise’s arms. It made you warm and giddy, but you wouldn’t want it any other way. It was addicting, perhaps even dangerous, but it felt so right. Every moment now was a moment you wanted to saviour.

You rested your head on Blaise’s shoulder and he pressed a kiss on top of your head, lightly squeezing you into his side. ‘You know Draco and Pansy are gonna be awake soon?’ he asked. ‘And they’ll be looking for us?’

‘I don’t care,’ you mumbled and moved your head to look up at Blaise. ‘I way rather be here with you than deal with a grumpy Malfoy.’

‘Well, to be fair, anyone would,’ Blaise chuckled and he earned an elbow in his side.

‘You know what I mean,’ you said.

‘Of course, darling,’ Blaise smiled and he kissed your forehead. ‘I love being here with you too.’

/\/\/\

The field had been built the same as the first day of the festival, with little booths on the side and a stage in the back. Next to the stage stood a large wooden board, empty of any text other than ‘leader board’. On the stage stood a band, admired by the few people who were standing near.

The festival-site was already full of people waiting for the results. Blaise recognised some other Foxes, including Mica and Ivanna, two of the people who had been in his and Draco’s team for the scavenger hunt. Mica was standing with their friends close to the stage, shouting something to the lead singer, and Ivanna was sitting at the picnic tables in the middle of the field, with her baby and partner.

The sun was starting to its way down in the sky, as it was approaching late afternoon already. An immense surge of happiness hit Blaise as he walked onto the festival field with your hand in his and his two best friends trailing next to him. He looked to his side and a big smile spread on his face unconsciously when he saw your beautiful face was complimented by the golden streaks of the sun. It made you look like the angel he believed you were. He knew you were too humble to ever take that compliment, but Blaise would take all the time he had with you to convince you.

‘What are you looking at?’ you asked once you’d caught Blaise’s stare.

‘You,’ he simply said.

You huffed lightly and hid your face on Blaise’s shoulder. He chuckled and pressed his lips to the top of your head, earning a scoff from Pansy.

‘You’re all cute and stuff,’ she said, gesturing to your and Blaise’s hands. ‘But if you’re gonna be like this the entire time, I might puke. So keep the cheesy stuff to yourself, okay?’

You laughed and pushed Pansy’s shoulder. ‘Fine,’ you sighed. ‘But for the record, you’re the one who wanted us to be together.’

Pansy rolled her eyes and said nothing, but her smile gave her happiness away. She really was happy that Blaise and you were together, and just her reaction to the news this morning was enough proof—she had leaped from her chair and thrown herself at you when Blaise and you had walked hand-in-hand into the kitchen. So no matter how much she said she hated to see the two of you together, Blaise knew that his friend was only happy for him.

As was the same for Draco. He was never really one to openly show his real feelings, but even he had formed a joyful, and one might even say proud, grin on his face when he had seen you and Blaise. Of course, he would never admit it, but that smile was enough for Blaise.

‘So what do we do now?’ Blaise asked you, once your group had made in in the field.

‘The scores won’t be revealed till later this evening,’ you answered. ‘So we have some time to do fun things!’

‘Like what?’ Draco scowled, looking around the field, his eyes sticking to the people in front of the stage. ‘I’m not gonna dance, if that’s your plan.’

You laughed and shook your head. ‘I promise I won’t make you dance, but there are plenty of other things to do! Come on!’

You led your friends past all the booths, introducing them to some of the villagers they hadn’t met yet or having them try some local food.

The afternoon was spent by playing games—such as tossing bean bags, popping balloons and Pansy and Blaise even took a shot at apple-bobbing—and eating all the delicious treats the people of the village had made for the festival. Hank was back with his cherry pastries, ‘the last ones of the season’ he had said, the baker had made big sausage rolls that Draco refused to try, and Francis, owner of the greengrocery, sold large, juicy apples. Most time, however, was spent at the candy-booth. Aroon, the person behind the stall, sold many different kinds of sweets, from soft caramel toffee and butterscotch to colourful lollies and jelly beans in so many flavours it could compete with Bertie Botts every flavour beans. You bought a little bag of fudge, Pansy had a go at exciting looking round, chewy candies, Draco went for the peppermint-chocolates and Blaise bought hard candy in a nicely decorated glass jar.

All content with the purchases, you sat down at the picnic tables in the middle of the field and rested your feet for a while. While the sun was lowering on the horizon and you were all eating the sweets you had bought, you filled your friends in on the people around you.

‘That’s Mr. Kendall; he’s come to live here a few years ago but he’s never really mingled with his neighbours. It surprises me he even is here. Oh, that’s Kailey. I met her two years ago on a trip to London in a pub with my parents. We got to talking and found out we both have family living here—hey! Kailey, hi!’ You waved enthusiastically at Kailey and she smiled back, with her arm around another girl. ‘That must be her girlfriend, Irene. And, see that old woman over there? That’s Mrs. Mavis. My grandfather had a huge fight with her last year that lasted from the summer to Christmas. I don’t even know what they were fighting about, but I do know that she refused to give in even when the whole village stood on my grandfather’s side.’

Blaise, who was sitting opposite of you, rested his chin on his palm and watched you as you continued to ramble about everyone around. While you started a story about Miss Withinger and her naked cat, Blaise smiled as he watched how you fervently moved your hands and pulled faces along with your words. He could just watch you for hours and he wouldn’t be bored. You had something so lively and comforting inside of you and at moments like this, it shone through, like the sun breaking from the clouds.

You caught Blaise staring and shot him an easy smile. He opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by the music stopping. Turning around, he saw a tall, dark woman that he recognised as the head of organisation step onto the stage. She cleared her throat and the field with people fell silent.

‘Good evening, everyone!’ she said and flashed her white teeth as she smiled. ‘It is my pleasure to share with you the results of the fifty-sixth Summer Games!’

The woman started telling how the results would be revealed and Blaise scanned around the field. Between him and the stage was the homemade dancefloor and it was filled with participants of the Games. Many of them Blaise didn’t know, for he hadn’t met everyone during the games, but he did see a few familiar faces. Halfway between the stage and the picnic tables stood the Sly Foxes’ team captain, Alysia Gemeti. Blaise had only spoken briefly with her after their spat at the soccer games the first day and he had avoided her mostly. Although he wanted his team to win, of course, he felt that, with how Alysia had treated you, she didn’t really deserve the victory.

On Blaise’s right, at one of the other tables, sat Raoul with both his dads. The boy wasn’t really listening to the woman and was, just as Blaise, looking around the field. When he saw Blaise a big smile broke on his face and he waved at him. Blaise waved back and laughed when Raoul made a face like he’d fall asleep.

A big man close to the stage was roaring with laughter and Blaise felt a pang of anger in his stomach when he realised who it was. It was the man who had pushed you over in the soccer game. Blaise hadn’t seen him the rest of the festival and the man hadn’t apologised to you at all.

Before Blaise could anger himself more, however, the woman on the stage caught his attention as she was walking towards the board, where two men had gathered below.

‘And now the moment we have all been waiting for so long!’ the head of organising announced. ‘Starting with the last place! Drumroll, please,’ she said to the drummer on stage. ‘Fourth place goes to… the Raging Angels!’

There was a collective groan from the Angels and a modest applause from the other teams.

‘Well done, Angels! With forty-two points you were so close to being in third place,’ the woman on stage continued. ‘However, that place is taken, with forty-five points, by… the Oiled Machines!’

Blaise watched the man who’d tipped you over slam his fist on the table and curse to whoever was listening around him.

‘They don’t deserve that,’ Blaise whispered as he turned around to his friends. ‘They were awful players!’

You took Blaise’s hand over the table and gave it a soft squeeze. ‘I know, but I’m long glad they didn’t win,’ you whispered back. ‘They did three years back and they were insufferable the next festival.’

The applause for the Machines was a lot softer than for the Angels, but Blaise didn’t know if it was because the people didn’t want to applause for them or because they were too anxious for the next results.

‘Two teams left!’ the woman on stage said and her eyes cast over the crowd on the ground. ‘The Sly Foxes—’ a loud cheer erupted from the Foxes on the dancefloor ‘—and the Red Titans—’ all the Titans, including you and Pansy, shouted at the mention ‘—are battling for the victory. It was a tight race, with both teams neck-and-neck throughout all the games, but eventually the scavenger hunt set the difference.’

The woman gestured at the board, where the Angels and Machines’ scores had been placed at the bottom. One of the men hung two little boards with ‘53’ and ‘57’ on the bigger board.

You were still holding Blaise’s hand over the table and he tightened his grip. ‘Good luck,’ he muttered to you and you smiled back.

‘With four points difference, the winners of this year’s Summer Games are… the Red Titans!’

The loud cheering that erupted from every Titan around was almost as loud as the cheering of the entire Hogwarts student-body at a quidditch match. You and Pansy jumped up from your seats and shouted and embraced each other. You joined the rest of the Titans, screaming and laughing in euphoria.

‘Well, they did it,’ Blaise laughed and he patted Draco on his back. ‘Just like they said.’

‘Just like they said,’ Draco nodded and although he had lost there was a smile on his face.

All of the Titans went to the stage where you all received a plastic medal. The team captain, Wyatt Holm, got a big trophy and he victoriously held it above his head, roaring like a madman.

Music started to play again and Draco and Blaise watched as you and Pansy celebrated your win with the team. People came up to congratulate you and when finally the crowd became a little less busy, the sky was already turning dark. The band played a slower song and as couples started to dance on the dancefloor, Blaise walked up to you and put out his hand.

‘May I have this dance?’

You threw your arms around Blaise’s neck and laughed. ‘Of course.’

For a while you swayed in silence. You were resting your head on Blaise’s shoulder and he had his cheek on top of your head. Your hand fit perfectly in his and as you twirled slowly around, Blaise could only think that this was what he wanted forever.

You hummed softly along to the music and Blaise felt the vibrations in his chest. He looked down at you and the smile made its way to his mouth without him trying.

After a while you looked up and tilted your head to Blaise. ‘I like this,’ you said softly, like loud words would ruin the moment.

‘I like you,’ Blaise said back and you smiled.

‘I like you, too,’ you whispered and bumped your nose with Blaise’s.

You giggled and that was enough for Blaise to give into the moment and forget everyone around him. He captured your lips in a kiss that was sweeter than all the candy at the booth combined. His heart fluttered and he could have stayed in the moment forever, if it wasn’t for the music to change.

Laughing and with hot cheeks he pulled back from you. You started to dance to the new music and quickly you were joined by Pansy, who brought Draco along. He said he refused to dance, but you took his hands and swung him around on the dancefloor. Pansy took Blaise’s arms and danced around next to you and Draco, who couldn’t help the big smile on his face.

‘I told you the Summer Games would be fun!’ you yelled as you threw your head back.

Blaise looked at you and Pansy and Draco, and he had to admit you were right; the Summer Games were fun.

- - - - - - -

taglist

general HP: @harry-pottery-barn​​ @potters-heart​​ @kingalrdy​​ @missswriter​​ @figlia–della–luna​​@sexysirius​​ @awritingtree​​ @bi-andready-tocry​​ @lilulo-12fanfiction​​ @ananad1​​ @treestarrrrrrrr​​ @your-hispanichufflepuff​​ @thefandomplace​​ @theeicedamericano​​ @girllety​​ @moonstarrnghtsky @swearingsolemnly​​ @weasleydream​​ @secretsthathauntus​​ @amixedwitch​​ @izzyyy-1​​ @gryffindorgirl​​ @kitkatkl​​ @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts​​ @nyotamalfoy​​​

MASTERLIST

[pomp-and-circumstance]

Oh man, friends. Here we are. Episode 115. 

Making their way (MAKINGTHEIRWAY) through the cold frontier of Eislecross, Caleb sets up the tower and allows the Nein a night of warm comfort. Beau asks for some cocoa, chocolate covered strawberries, and a glass of chardonnay. After some moments of staring at it nervously, she gets into a warm bath and pulls back the letter like it’s a magically infused explosion waiting to happen.

And it is, just not in the way she expected.

First of all, I have to say that I love how the ENTIRE cast started to go crazy once Marisha said she was pulling out the letter, because I think it’s SO important to see everybody’s excitement not just for the characters, but for the growth Ashley takes here. Travis and Laura are excited, Liam laughs, Sam starts dancing and shifting his shoulders, Taliesin starts clapping, and Marisha has a “okay girl, it’s your time to shine” smile on her face.

(You deserve better than this unflattering angle Travis, I’m so sorry.)

These friends are ALL IN on this romance, and I’m so happy there’s this kind of... I don’t know if representation is the right word, but that example of friends who all love each other and are invested in this story they’re telling together. Nobody is rolling their eyes or groaning or checking out, but they’re ready to see where Ashley takes this and what she’s done with this poem. You can come up with all kinds of criticism about Critical Role, but the one thing you can’t debate is how much they love to love each other. It’s so wholesome and so badly needed in today’s world.

At the top of it, it’s a whole paragraph that is crossed out and scraped, and you see some words like “Beau” and “abs” and “shorn” and “envelope” and things like that, and it’s all crossed out, and underneath it...

Beau,

Yeah, this was a poem but then I realized it was a dumb poem and I can’t write poetry. Sometimes I have an easier time when I put the pen to parchment, so here it goes.

I’ve rewatched this bit maybe four times in the last couple of hours, and I’ve been struggling to come up with how I’m going to do this. This letter, much like Yasha herself, is loaded with emotional gravity disguised in simple verbiage. It’s so telling that Yasha scribbled out the entire top of the poem and wrote the letter on the same page than grab a clean piece. Maybe she didn’t want Jester to get hurt that she asked for another page and didn’t use the poem. Maybe there wasn’t any more paper nearby. Maybe the hints of the poem above was a simple reminder to Yasha that the most important thing when it comes to Beau isn’t to be flashy, but to be honest. She didn’t need to be eloquent. She needed to be herself.

I’ve watched you. I don’t mean that in a creepy way. I mean, I am a little bit of a creep, but I know that you know this by now; it takes me a minute to open up. So I watch, I observe, I take it all in as opposed to letting it all out. I guess the only time I let it all out is when I fight, which I’m not sure is the healthiest thing in the world. But here’s some things that I’ve noticed about you.

This is such a brilliant tie-in by Ashley. As I’ve been watching this campaign for the first time, something that really stuck out to me in the beginning was how quiet Ashley was when she returned to the show after a few weeks off. It had to be so hard to try and cover all the bases as a Barbarian while also filming a show in New York. I don’t know how they conducted things behind the scenes for her, if they gave her a synopsis on what happened the week before, or how much she was really aware of, but it has to be intimidating to want to play this game with your friends, but also have to suffer a bit from missing out on sessions AND having to “perform,” for lack of a better word, in front of people in a stream. Whether it was intentional or not, it creates layers in Yasha that are super effective once she came back permanently and was able to flow with everyone else. The beginning of this letter is weirdly complimentary while also feeling like Yasha might’ve gotten a little distracted by nerves while writing it. “I mean, I am a little bit of a creep... I’m not sure is the healthiest thing in the world.” She doesn’t have a chance to erase her words, or, again, grab new paper, so she takes those moments and makes them about Beau; “I know you know this by now (complimenting her smarts, as I noted a lot in the previous entry) but here’s some things I’ve noticed about you.” The first and last sentences of that paragraph are terrific bookends. “I’ve watched you. Here’s what I’ve seen.”

You’re strong, you’re a leader, you’re really smart, you’re really funny, you’re honest, even if it hurts, but the thing that really gets me about you is that you love so fiercely. And I know you feel like an asshole most days, but I kind of like that you’re an asshole. 

Beau has grown up under the expectations of somebody who lived his life by fear, and that fear manifested itself in several ways with her. She liked talking to people and visiting places and finding new ways to sell the wine, but her father said no. She was actively working to expand this small empire her father had built, was even being smart about it by bringing barrels to places where she fought, and man, what a great selling point to the owner of a tavern, to get the Lionette wine from the daughter of the maker, and hey, she can kick your ass, too. Thoreau clipped her wings instead of watching her grow and shipped her off as a result. When she didn’t comply, she was seen as a problem. The line between the world and Beau’s heart is a tremendously delicate place, so delicate that she’s made herself a human weapon to defend it - and she LIKES that about herself. But that also means reaching that delicate place takes time, but more importantly, it takes trust. Yasha knows now that Beau trusts her, and to tell Beau that she trusts her, too, it’s not so much that she tells Beau that she’s seen, but that she’s wanted on top of that. “I kind of like that you’re an asshole” is a big deal. Beau has been seen as hard to love because she’s asshole. Yasha is falling for her despite it... and admittedly because of it.

You stick up for the people you love, and you make me feel stronger. 

It’s not just that she’s an asshole, it’s part of her that loves so fiercely. I love that being an asshole and loving others are in back to back sentences. They really do go hand in hand with Beau; to be in her company and be defended by her is an honor, and Yasha is admitting to that here. “You’ve done this time and time again for the Nein, even for me, when others might’ve questioned it, and I feel stronger because of it.” Everybody has had some moment in this journey where Beau has stuck up for them, and that’s not lost on Yasha at all, even with missing time. We know Yasha is already in love with Beau at this point, so she counts herself in this category. Imagine how Beau’s insides must’ve warmed reading that she, the smaller, dexterous, crafty Monk, makes this hulking Barbarian of immense power and soft heart feel stronger. But on top of all that...

I can hold my own, I know that you know that, but you make me feel safe. I don’t even know if that makes sense, but I know no matter what, you’ll have my back, no questions asked.

-Yasha

Yasha has gaps in her memory, undergoes trials from the Storm Lord, has been taken control of by Obann twice, and has had people in her mind actively kill her friends and loved ones. She doesn’t NEED Beau to be any more powerful than she is, but she WANTS Beau, because of all the people in her life, it’s Beau that makes her feel safe. The line between the world and Yasha’s heart wasn’t as delicate, and she was made into a killing machine to offset what a soft soul she is, as though her tenderness is a burden, not a strength. “You make me feel safe” speaks to this. Yasha can be who she is, without judgement or expectations, when she’s with Beau. They can tackle gods, take on ancient civilizations, battle dragons, smarmy wizards, anything really... and she’ll feel stronger and safe with Beau simply because she’s there. Beau is more than just the body she has, or the perceived troublemaker that was “too much” for the Lionette household. Yasha has seen it at work with the Nein, and has only fallen for her harder because of it.

Trust shared. Trust exchanged. The ball is in your court, Beau.  

Yasha thinks she can’t write poetry. Heh.

(This entry is always going to feel incomplete to me because I don’t think I articulated my thoughts as well as I wanted to, but I think that’s more of a testament to Ashley’s writing this letter than anything else. Feeling safe with someone is a struggle for me personally - not that you need my sob story, but it’s there - so wrapping my mind around that sentence is something I’m still trying to do, even after months of knowing that it was coming. What I will point out instead is the split second Marisha and Ashley make eye contact immediately after Ashley finishes the letter. It’s the only time it happens before the scene switches to Jester and Caleb, and damn, is Marisha both overwhelmed and so proud. No wonder it took her a moment to continue from there.)

[zenonaa]

'The conglomerate taught him a dozen languages and how to play as many instruments. They trained him to operate multiple types of aircrafts, earn billions of dollars and not bat an eyelid as a rival company begged for mercy... However, when it came to developing feelings, that was treated in the same way as stabbing a fork into a plug socket, or offering to wash the dishes instead of letting the servants attend to them. It was common sense not to do those things.'

Fandom: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Fukawa Touko/Togami Byakuya Characters: Fukawa Touko, Togami Byakuya, Naegi Makoto Additional Tags: Togafuka Week Summary: Togami tries to prepare himself for his reunion with Fukawa.

Comments: Day 3 for TogaFuka Week! Fantasy/Kiss.

💗 Please like, share and comment if you enjoyed it! 💗

***

As the helicopter soars above the city, Byakuya visualises skyscrapers reaching toward the sky as if wanting to claim the blue expanse for itself, like that’s its God-given right. The buildings wouldn’t look out of place in a boss battle in a light gun video game. Makoto once compared them to the final level in an old zombie shooter that he played a few times at his local arcade.

Byakuya imagines the futuristic city, teeming with electricity and life, but the image lingers only for a couple of seconds before rusting, wilting, collapsing. In reality, Towa City is an industrial wasteland. Its railroad halo dips and splinters throughout, as if made from thorns, and the ghost of a bullet train explodes into dust that rains down on the city. Buildings have been amputated, leaving only stumps if nothing at all. Squinting, he discerns a car park that is now a graveyard, with graves instead of cars.

They land the helicopter in the concrete clearing behind a rundown hotel, the loud wailing of the rotorcraft’s blades slowing into pops before falling silent. No red carpet awaits them. A staircase unfolds from the helicopter’s doorway to the scarred ground. The sky is a red lipstick stain that fades into purple like a bruise.

And a short distance away from Byakuya stands Touko Fukawa.

Touko bounds toward him. “Byakuya-sama!”

Yes, he thinks, she would still call him that. Her wild mane of aubergine hair writhes with every step. Meanwhile, he glides over. His feet make no sound.

“I’ve missed you so much,” she says, stopping in front of him. She breathes in, filling her lungs with air. He brings a finger to her lips.

“Let me speak first.” Byakuya can feel her lips vibrate as words bubble in her mouth. After he lifts his finger off, her mouth hangs ajar but she stays quiet. Now it’s his turn to inhale deeply. “We have been on quite a journey. Before we met, I held the weight of the conglomerate and all the pressures involved, while you...”

The light against her lenses flashes warningly as her brow dips into a furrow.

“... had, and still have, your own,” he finishes. His teeth scrape against his lips. “When I entrusted you with Towa City, do you remember what I said?”

“No matter the distance, I will not feel a thing,” she recites.

“That’s right. You must understand that my creation was a business investment.” He swishes a hand through the air, maintaining eye contact. “Romance goes against my existence. At that time, though I had started opening up to the idea of relying on others, and letting others rely on me... I was not interested in... in romance.”

Her silence provides a clear sky that his voice fills with grey clouds. He coughs into his knuckles.

“Part of me rejected the idea of romance... And yet, to my surprise, during our time apart, where we could only speak in video calls, my heart grew fonder for you.”

Touko’s puzzled squint blooms into a wide-eyed stare. Its intensity burns his cheeks. Still, she doesn’t say a word. What if after she had drawn close enough, without the gleam on the computer screen on his face, she realised he is as cold as a monitor? Is that what is happening now? Aoi sometimes remarked that Touko was too good for him, and when Aoi became annoyed enough with something he did or said, she would add that Touko deserved better.

He used to never doubt himself, but for the first time in his life, he wonders if he is good enough.

It feels like he has taken his first step somewhere damp and mouldy, where the floorboards could give way at any moment. Without moving, his stomach drops as if he’s already falling. Byakuya’s tongue squirms in his mouth, as if trying to reverse the words that it already unleashed, but he can’t take them back.

Instead of trying to articulate his feelings, he decides to demonstrate them to her. He grabs her waist. Her head jolts back in surprise and a moment later, their lips bump together. For several long seconds, they stand stiffly, Byakuya’s hands on her body, Touko’s hands cupping air, until he needs to peel himself away to breathe.

She gazes at him, brow wrinkled, not smiling. Then she opens her mouth and asks, “Are you okay, Togami-kun?”

The voice does not belong to her. Byakuya blinks, fracturing the concrete, the sky, her body, revealing his true surroundings. Opposite him sits Makoto, the two of them seated in a helicopter.

“You zoned out there for a good few minutes,” says Makoto.

Byakuya responds with a grimace.

To bat away the encroaching silence, Makoto chirps, “I can’t believe in an hour, we’ll finally be reunited with Komaru and Fukawa-san.”

In response, Byakuya gives a solitary hum. Makoto’s smile wanes.

“Are you motion sick?” he asks Byakuya.

“No,” Byakuya says more harshly than intended, the syllable cracking the still air like a whip and making Makoto tense. He flattens his tone and adds, “I’m in thought. That’s all.”

“About the reunion?”

Byakuya nods.

“It’ll be fine,” Makoto assures him with conviction that puts Byakuya on the defensive.

“What am I supposed to say to her?”

‘Her’ being Touko, of course. The conglomerate taught him a dozen languages and how to play as many instruments. They trained him to operate multiple types of aircrafts, earn billions of dollars and not bat an eyelid as a rival company begged for mercy. With the matter of future heirs, they instructed him on what to look out for on female applicants’ forms while choosing potential mothers. However, when it came to developing feelings, that was treated in the same way as stabbing a fork into a plug socket, or offering to wash the dishes instead of letting the servants attend to them. It was common sense not to do those things.

And yet here Byakuya was, spending the journey to Towa City mentally rehearsing how he was going to confess to a woman who had gained the power to make his heart swell too big for his chest. The conglomerate could not have prepared him for such a woman. Such an intelligent woman. Such an empathetic woman. Such a loyal woman.

Most of all, a woman who drew strength from what the conglomerate called weakness. Love.

“I mean... you can say hello?” suggests Makoto.

Byakuya’s steely gaze clenches Makoto. “Then what?”

“Like... ‘How are you?’”

“I can’t treat this like a regular meeting, as if we had only last seen each other at the end of work the previous day,” says Byakuya.

“Why not?”

“This one is different.”

As Makoto’s eyes flicker, he drinks in the tension in Byakuya’s shoulders, the tightness in his fists, and says, “Ah. I see.”

Though Makoto must have known for some time now. He and the others had started alluding to Byakuya’s feelings for Touko before Byakuya was even in denial about them, back when Byakuya didn’t know what he was experiencing, or what was making his stomach flutter.

Evening has dyed the sky orange, darkness creeping in at the edges. Byakuya stares at it through the window. His unsmiling reflection leaves a faint imprint on the glass. Silence swirls around them, hanging over their heads like the rotating blades of the helicopter.

“Are you going to tell her?” asks Makoto, and he doesn’t need to elaborate.

“I should,” Byakuya replies.

“You can try a pick-up line.” Without having to look at him, Byakuya can hear the grin seeping into Makoto’s tone. “For example... Do you like raisins? How would you feel about a date?”

Byakuya’s reflection glares as Makoto carries on.

“If I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put ‘U’ and ‘I’ together. Or - ”

“That’s enough,” Byakuya says with a shudder, raising a hand. “I aim for my demeanour to be calm and composed. I do not intend to act like a fool, throwing out hackneyed lines.”

“Sorry, sorry. But if you don’t mind me saying, you’re overthinking it, Togami-kun.”

This earns Makoto a look from Byakuya. The curve of Makoto’s lips is slimmer now, but still holding on.

“In these sorts of situations, it’s best not to use your brain...” Makoto taps himself on the head. “... but to follow your heart.” His hand shifts to his heart and pats there next.

Byakuya tightens his lips and returns his gaze to the window.

“Easy for you to say,” he mutters.

The helicopter lands by the hotel that Touko and Komaru have been living in. If not for the lit windows and neon sign, the dark column would have blended in with the night. Steel bars cage the building, mostly unbent. Byakuya’s attention fixes longest on the sign that flashes ‘TOWA HOTEL’, ‘TOWA HOTEL’, pulsing like his heartbeat, reminding him over and over where he is.

He balls his sweaty hands into fists. He can do this. ‘Follow your heart,’ Makoto had said, and his heart has been caged for so long. It’s time that he freed it.

As in his imagined scenarios, Touko runs over, her arms spread as if about to take. Byakuya tenses, for a moment thinking that he has to catch her before she flies away again.

Fortunately, she stops in front of him, her feet rooted to the ground. “Byakuya-sama!”

Byakuya swears he feels the spray of her spit, but it might just be his sweat. Makoto digs him gently in the ribs, quirks his lips, then walks toward Komaru. At no point does Touko’s eyes stray from Byakuya, who lifts his chin and adjusts his tie. Low laughter simmers in Touko’s mouth.

“I can finally smell you...” She hugs herself. “It has been so long.”

In the past, he would have told her to shut up after saying something like that, but that doesn’t seem appropriate now. Such a comment used to come across as vulgar, and maybe it still does, slightly, but he has grown accustomed to the vines that her existence has curled around him. His tongue feels thick in his mouth as he tries to think of a response.

“Well, I can smell you,” he says.

This prompts Touko to shrink back and worry her lip with her teeth. “D-Do I...? I showered earlier today. Argh, did Komaru swap my shampoo for dog p-?”

Touko cuts herself off with a groan and shakes her head. Byakuya reaches a hand toward her.

“I mean you smell good.” He immediately cringes. Good. He said, ‘good.’ Her brow creases, whether it be from confusion or from hearing such a lame adjective, and he adds quickly, “You smell like...”

Byakuya breathes in but finds himself unable to smell her, so he leans toward her so he can. She gasps. He straightens sharply.

Time ticks as Byakuya mentally flips through the scripts he had rehearsed on the helicopter.

“Romance goes against my existence,” he says.

No, wait. He hadn’t meant to say it like that.

“Went against,” he clarifies. “Remember when I said ‘No matter the distance, I will not feel a thing’?”

Touko nods slowly, frowning. His head fills with steam, rendering it practically useless, which leaves him one other organ to depend on. His heart.

“Do you like raisins?” he says. “I’d put ‘U’ and ‘I’ together.”

Her troubled expression gives way to concern. “Byakuya-sama...?”

Byakuya lets out a frustrated groan and slaps himself on the forehead. “What I want to say is...”

She springs onto tiptoe and pecks his lips.

In that moment of contact, time stops. No more than a second could have passed, but by the time she returns her heels to the ground, he feels like he has been flung up into the sky before crashing back down again, his head spinning.

While he stands frozen, she wraps her arms around him.

“I understand,” she says muffled into his chest.

He hesitates, then hugs her back, and presses his lips against the top of her head. She smells like strawberries.