#but the fact that he hasn't makes this “writing a book on running away” feel strange

[noel-levine-fan]

this line has always baffled me genuinely what is she talking about. what book

edit: anon helped me with this one, apparently this an idiom...! oops lol. see, i have heard things like "you could write a book on x, you know so much about it...!" but never "you wrote a book on x," like, in the past tense, like you actually wrote it. perhaps this is common and i just don't know about it, but either way, i'm happy my question is finally answered...

i'm afraid i do look a little silly now... but that's alright

NOOOOO GUYS STOP LIKING THIS POST ITS EMBARASSSINGGGGG (not genuine go ahead I find it funny)

[quimichi]

↳ ❝ [PLAYING WITH THEIR HAIR] ¡! ❞

WARNING: I love Hanzo, but i had to-, Ging cause he's a crime, Hisoka, its more hair related situations than actually playing with it, but the vibe is comfy and chill, some are on crack but enjoy :)

SUMMARY: You play with their hair (if they have any lol)

CHARACTERS: HxH guys × F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 7.191

AN: it was super fun, for some reason my inner gremlin shows up if i write hxh

Chrollo

Chrollo lets out a soft huff of air as you start playing with his hair. He's sitting up, leaning against the headboard of the bed, focused on the book in his lap. A smile appears on his face, but he doesn't look up from the page he is reading.

"You're playing with my hair," he answers with a hint of playfulness in his words. "No.", you try to suppress a smile, but it's giving you away as you play coy. Chrollo glances up from the book, giving you a curious look.

"Are you trying to annoy me?" He quirks an eyebrow, his smile widening. "Sometimes." you smile.  He shuts the book in his lap with a quiet thump, setting it to the side before turning to face you, his body moving closer to you with a fluid grace. "You're terrible at teasing me," he hums, wrapping an arm around you. "It's almost adorable," he murmurs. Chrollo pulls until you are sitting in his lap, your back against his chest. His arms wrap fully around you, his chin resting on your shoulder. "Can't even own up to it," he says, pressing a kiss against your shoulder. He takes a deep breath, the rise and fall of his chest against your back steady and even.

"What will I ever do with you?" "Can I keep playing with your hair?" "You'll do it regardless of what I say," he murmurs, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

His breath is warm against your skin as he speaks, his words brushing against your ear like a whisper. "Yes, you can," he relents after a moment. Chrollo hums in contentment as you start to run your fingers through his hair, his eyes closing at the feeling. He nuzzles his face against the side of your neck, his lips pressing soft kisses against your skin. "You know, you're very distracting," he mutters against your neck, his voice muffled by your skin.

He pauses, burying his face further into the crook of your neck, his breaths warm and fast. "Very distracting," he murmurs again.

Bonolenov

His whole body stiffens when you touch his head; soft flick or no, he flinches, as though it's the first time someone has ever laid their hand on him. His breath shakes, and an inhale comes sharp, almost painful. Yet, he doesn't move away from you at all. Bonolenov stares at you.

"Don't…" He whispers. At your laugh, Bonolenovs glare transforms into something more hesitant— as if unsure of what to do with his face in response to your laughter. "Don't tease me," He mumbles, eyes flickering from your face to the floor. "No teasing." "Sorry, sorry." You keep softly laughing as you rub his bald head again. (Wtf am I writing) Bonolenov shudders again at the feeling of your hand on his head. He leans into it, slowly, a flower seeking the sunlight.

"You do this on purpose," he mutters. Despite his protest, Bonolenov can't seem to look away from you, or stop you from touching him.  He shivers ever so slightly every time your hand moves over his head, and he still hasn't moved away. In fact, he's almost… pressing his head against your hand.

"Or is this a ritual from your tribe?"

Dalzollene

Dalzollene stirs slightly from the gentle motions of your touch, tilting his head up, almost as if seeking to lean against your hand. Dalzollene blinks slowly, eyes half-lidded. He makes a soft, sleepy sound, a low hum that is more of a content hum than anything. He's half-asleep, completely at ease and utterly lost in this moment. "You're overworking yourself." You whisper as you carefully take a seat on the desk he's resting on. Dalzollene's eyes flutter as he tries to focus in on you more clearly.

"I am simply doing as I should," he says, his words slightly slurred from sleep. He lifts a hand to rub his eyes, before he blinks up at you again. "I have to—" his words interrupt themselves with a yawn, "—work." "Neon is draining you." Dalzollene frowns at the mention of her name, but he can't find it in him to speak against you. He knows it's true, even if his job means he has to spend most of it within a few feet of her.

"It is… tiring," he admits, trying to be subtle about his slight disdain for the woman. Dalzollene's eyes shut again as you run your fingers through his hair, his body relaxing further. "This is… nice," he murmurs, the last word coming out more as a hum than a spoken word. "Your hands…" His head tilts into your touch.

Feitan

Your hands are in his hair and he would love nothing more than to melt into you. But his temper is getting the better of him, and he’s trying all he can not to show you just how good it feels.

“Stop that,” he mumbles, a bit testily. “Stop what?” You ask, as if you don’t know perfectly well what Feitan was referring to.

Your hands remain in his black locks, running your fingers through the smooth strands. He huffs and turns his head away, trying his best to ignore the way gooseflesh rises on his arms every time your fingers comb through his hair. “You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?” He snaps back, but his voice lacks most of its usual sharpness. “You mean… playing with your hair?” You ask, feigning innocence.

Even now, as Feitan is glaring up at you like a petulant child, you continue to brush your hands through his hair. Feitans eyes flash, temper flaring like a candle in the wind. He glares up at you, teeth snapping in irritation.

"I told you to stop," he says, a hint of a warning in his voice. "Or are you really that intent on annoying me?"

Franklin

"I'm sorry for your loss..." you whisper as you run your hands through his short hair, trying to comfort him. Franklin can feel your fingers combing through his hair, gentle enough to leave an imprint on his soul. "Uvo-" He blinks, his brow furrowing as he remembers who you are mentioning. "You don’t need to apologize."

He lifts his head to look up at you, and his gaze softens. "You have nothing to apologize for." He leans his head back, moving closer to your hand like a cat craving attention.

"If I’m being completely honest," he admits, his voice almost as soft as a whisper, "I think Uvo deserved it." He grins, and his eyes crinkle in the corners. "Don't say that," you say softly, "he was your friend, you loved him." "He *was*." Franklin closes his eyes for a moment, then sighs as you continue to play with his hair. "He was a friend, and a partner." The words are almost a hiss, a whisper of a curse on his breath.

"And he lost that when he laid hands on you." Franklins eyes are open again, staring up at you. "I didn’t like him as much as you think I did." He says, his tone blunt.

"He was a good fighter, and a decent person, but…" He’s quiet for a moment, and his eyes lower as he looks at the floor. "He tried to touch you. How could I forgive something like that?"

Ging

For a moment, he is still like a statue, then his lips curled into an agitated snarl and he starts to pull away. “Enough!” He snaps, swatting your hand away. "Dammit old man lemme brush your hair-!" You snap back. “No! No, that’s—“

Gings words stop the moment he sees the expression on your face. He gulps the lump lodged in his throat down and his shoulders slump. “Fine,” he says, looking away from you. “You can brush it. Just— just make it quick…” While you work to untangle the mess that is Gings hair, the man grumbles and mutters to himself.

“I could’ve untangled it myself, you know,” he murmurs, his words a complaint more than a statement. “You didn’t need to do it for me.” "Stop pouting." "I am not pouting," Ging huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. He glances sidelong at you, his expression a blend of annoyance and something else he doesn't want to admit.

"And for the record, I was perfectly capable of untangling it myself." "Uh-huh." With another grumble, Ging lets his head droop forward in defeat. He tries to steal a glance backwards at you through the tangled mess of dark hair before remembering that he's not supposed to look.

"How much longer is this going to take?... my neck is starting to ache..." "Till you fucking die." "That doesn't tell me anything," Ging mutters, his words clipped and quiet. The pain in his neck is starting to mount, but he's not quite sure how to ask you to be gentler. "Could you… try and be a bit… more… careful?" He winces, his shoulders involuntarily twitching as needles of pain shoot down his spine. "It… hurts…" "Manchild." "Women these day's, i tell ya."

Hanzo (you could totally play with his eyebrows tho, they look like lashes, what a queen honestly)

"Are you just bald or cant you grow hair at all?" You blurt out while you both cuddle. "Bald?" Hanzo flinches as you touch his head. There aren't words to describe the touch of your hand against his scalp. A shiver runs through his shoulders; he seems to be holding back, somehow. "Um, I…" He pauses, clearing his throat.

"I can grow it… if you wish." His voice is soft, like a child speaking up to their mother. "No." you laugh by the thought of him with hair. The look of relief that washes over Hanzo, you've never seen on anyone else. He sighs, shoulders relaxing into your touch.

"Good, I—" his voice cracks, almost as though he's holding back. "I'm not sure I want to grow it to be honest." "And I'm not sure you'd look good with it either." A surprised sound leaves him, almost like a breathless laugh. He shakes his head a little.

"I didn't think so either," he murmurs. "Not to mention! A good ninja never leaves behind traces!" he adds. He lets his eyes flutter shut for a moment, as if in thought. When he speaks again, his voice is low, a murmured admission. "I like it when you touch me." "Hmm?" You hum, "You do?" Hanzos breathing hitches, his chest rising quickly with each breath. “I…” his voice is breathless, a strangled whisper. “I do.”

He shivers again, and this time he doesn’t try to hold it back. He just closes his eyes and leans into your touch.

Hisoka

His head is tilted back slightly, leaning into your hand as you play with his hair. Like some touch-starved little dog, he can't help the low sound that slips out of his mouth.

"Ah," he gasps quietly as he looks up at you. And yet, the smirk at the corner of his lips betrays him. "OH-! You didn’t...." "... I didn't just what?" He asks, eyes full of mischief. "Moan like that you slut-!" That makes him laugh. A soft, sultry little chuckle that sends a shiver through his frame as he grins up at you. He's utterly shameless, and he knows it.  "And what if I did?" He coos, raising one eyebrow up at you. "Will you punish me, baby?" "Whore." A huff of air leaves his mouth, almost a sigh, but not quite.

"Maybe I am." He grins, not denying it. "And maybe I want you to do something about it." Hisokas breath is knocked out of his lungs as you pull his hair, and another soft, desperate sound slips out of his mouth. He can feel his body heating up, blood flushing under his skin as he lets out a little moan.

"Ahnn...!" He shivers, eyes squeezing shut as your hand is tangled in his locks. "That's it I'm done." You say with a straight face and leave. "Leaving me all hot and bothered?" He pouts. "How cruel."

It's a joke, of course— but he really is rather bothered.

Illumi

The gesture catches Illumi off guard, and he blinks in surprise. The feeling of your fingers in his hair is unlike anything he has known before. For a second, it's like the whole world has stopped in order for him to experience the sensation.

He has to resist the urge to lean into the touch. "Why are you touching my hair?" he asks. "Am I not allowed to?" Your hand stops in his hair, waiting for his answer. You never know what happens when you overstep the assassin's boundaries. Illumi almost stutters, but manages to respond in his usual even tone.

"You are allowed to do whatever you please," he murmurs. "It's just… I am unaccustomed to the sensation." "Did your mother never do your hair?"

"No." He doesn't look up as he says it, his eyes focused on the floor. "She didn't. I used to do my own hair from a very young age." "Not even maids?" “No.” The answer is short, sharp. Illumi takes a deep breath, forcing himself to stay still as you continue to play with his hair.

“Mother said that my last priority should be my hair, my first is to make the family proud and train. Maids weren't allowed to either talk to me or touch me.”

"So that's why it's so long." You laugh, trying to make a joke to lighten the mood. "What does that have to do with the length of my hair?" "....Nevermind"

Kite

"You…" Kites voice has a tinge of awe in it that only comes out when you are together. It is late. The sky is a canvas of stars. He sits next to you, so close that he can feel your warmth. His eyes are closed. Your hands glide through his hair, untangling some of its knots with a gentle, soothing touch.

"You would…" A brief pause, as if he cannot bring himself to ask. "...stay here with me?"

"Looking at bugs for a whole month or longer? Yep, with you always." You smile, leaning your head on his shoulder. A huff of laughter escapes him. As always, he is powerless against the light you bring to his mind, the warmth you give him when you are near. "A month…" he murmurs, repeating your words. The corner of his mouth quirks up in the smallest smile.

"You'd spend a month in a forest watching bugs with me?" "Romantic." His smile widens into an actual smirk. As he glances at you, Kite cannot help but think that you look the most beautiful when you are like this— lighthearted, carefree, at peace. He is entranced by the way you look in the moonlight. "Romantic, hm?" He shifts a little closer, until his knee is grazing yours. "...you’d think watching bugs with me is romantic."

"I can imagine better things, but I won't complain." Kite's smirk only grows. He is close enough now that his body is almost flush with yours. He reaches a hand up, resting it against your waist, tugging you just a little closer. His voice is low, deep, but there is an element of playfulness to his expression as he looks at you.

“You won’t complain?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow at you in a challenge, "That's a new one." "EY-!"

Knov

Knov doesn’t react when you reach for his hair, though his body jolts ever so faintly as you touch him, his eyes staring up at you the entire time. "Ew-!" you withdraw your hand.

His voice is very different when he replies to your exclamation, though, his voice taking on a hint of annoyance. “What?” He asks, brows furrowing. "The gel, it's ew." You scrunch up your nose. Knov's expression is a mixture of surprise and slight embarrassment. He looks like a puppy being told off for eating its owner’s shoes. “The gel isn’t supposed to be touched. It— it’s supposed to help control it.”

He reaches up and tries to pat his hair back down, which is only slightly successful, with a few black wisps falling back down to cover his forehead once again. “It isn’t supposed to… feel like that,” he says, still mumbling to himself, trying to fix his hair back into the pristine fashion it had been a moment previous. Then he looks up at you, eyes searching for approval.

“Better?” "When you wash it later, I wanna play with it." Knov's face turns a slight red color at your request. He’s still fiddling with his hair, trying to get it to behave. “You… want to play with it?” He repeats, like he can’t believe his ears. "Mhm!" His face heats up once more, the red flush spreading to his ears. “Ah…” His fingers stop trying to fix his hair, leaving it messy and unkempt. He looks a little disheveled, especially when compared to the perfect image he always has in public. “…sure.” He says, as if he can’t refuse anything you say.

Knuckle

"It's surprising how it stays up..." you mumble in slight amazement. His hair is surprisingly soft under your touch. He lets out a gasp at the motion, almost like a puppy who wasn’t expecting to be pet. "It.. it does that," he stutters out, face going pink. Knuckle is utterly flustered, but far from annoyed at the touch. "I… I don't know how it stays up."

"...you style it every morning tho." "Ah… I…" he falters, realizing that he's been found out.

"I use a little bit of hair gel," he admits, like he'd just confessed a terrible sin. Knuckle looks up at you through his eyelashes, face still flushed. "More like a whole container." Knuckle flushes a deeper shade of red. His mouth opens for a moment, wordless with protest, then he sighs and looks down at the floor.

"Fine," he mutters, his hands clenching into fists. "I may use a bit more than just "a little bit" of hair gel…but only because my hair keeps falling back down otherwise!" He adds, a slight defensive edge to his voice. "And if I'm not always perfectly presentable.. I-"  he falters, biting his tongue before he says, "I just…" He looks down, refusing to meet your eyes.

Finally, he looks back up at you and admits, "I can't look anything but perfect when I'm next to you. Not even a single hair can be out of place." "Awww baby." Knuckle blushes at the pet name, but doesn’t protest when you begin playing with his hair. He even leans into your touch, craving your closeness as if it was the only thing that would make him whole.

Kortopi

"It's so tangled..." you mumble as you brush his hair, the small male sitting between your legs. Kortopis eyes flutter shut, breath hitching as you brush through his long hair. He tries his best to keep still, a slight shiver rolling through his body. He's never been a fan of people touching him so intimately. With you it's a different story tho.

He'll hold still as long as you like. “Please be gentle. I don’t… I’m not used to this.” He whispers the words, eyes still closed.

The feeling of your fingers stroking through his hair and across his scalp is almost dizzying. Each brush of your touch sends a shiver down his spine, his breaths leaving his parted lips in soft gasps. "Am I too rough? I'm sorry." You quickly apologize. “No, no.” Kortopi is quick to shake his head at that, a hand lifting to reach hesitantly for your leg.

“It’s just… it’s a lot.” He mumbles, eyes fluttering open. He looks up at you, cheeks reddening a bit. “It feels nice. Keep going.” He can’t explain the feeling he gets from you just playing with his hair— the way that the slightest brush of your fingers makes his stomach clench and his heart flutter.

No one has been this gentle with him before. No one ever bothered to look at him with any form of compassion in their gaze.

He leans into your touch, his grip on your leg tightening when you scratch ever so slightly across his scalp. "I don't wanna overwhelm you." “It’s okay,” he says quietly, almost breathless. The feeling of your fingers against his hair, your touch against his skin, it almost makes him dizzy. He reaches his hand up, wrapping his fingers around your wrist as he guides your hand back down, silently asking you to keep going. He closes his eyes again, leaning against your leg.

Kurapika

A shiver passes over Kurapika, but he does not look up from the pages of his book. "You're playing with my hair," he notes, a simple observation. "I am," you say as your fingers slide through the strands. You twist a few around your fingers and pull slightly. He tries to keep his focus on his book, but the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his hair is quite distracting. You feel more than see the effort Kurapika makes to keep his attention on the words in his book, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks.

"You're making it difficult to read," He says, but he makes no move to pull away from you. "That's the point," you reply, a light chuckle in your voice. Kurapika grumbles and makes an attempt at turning the page, only for one of your hands to tug on his hair again.

This time, he makes a soft noise and sets his book down, closing his eyes and sighing. "Why do you do this to me?" His voice sounds almost mournful, but there is a sense of joy in his words. It is almost as if he were grateful for the situation he has found himself in.

His hair is tousled from your ministrations, messy and disheveled. It is a sight that is both attractive and adorable. "Because I like to see you this way," you reply, still lightly pulling on his hair. The action makes Kurapika shiver. He turns to look up at you, a mixture of defeat and happiness in his eyes at the same time.

"This way?" He repeats, voice wavering faintly, "Disheveled? Frantic? Utterly distracted?" You nod. "It reminds me how cute you are." Kurapika lets out a huff, his cheeks growing a little warmer.  He tries to school his features into a frown, but he can't help the corners of his lips from twitching upwards.

Leorio

The touch of your fingers through his unruly black locks soothes Leorios mind. He leans into your touch, the tension seeping from his muscles, and his eyes flutter shut. He lets out a low, almost inaudible sigh, a mixture of exhaustion and relief. He's silent for a long moment, simply enjoying the gentle ministrations your fingers give to the hair around his face.

Finally, he speaks, his voice low and quiet, as if not to disrupt the peace that's settled over the two of you. "You are too good to me," he whispers, his eyes still closed. He slowly reaches up to take your hand. He pulls it from his head and instead places a firm, lingering kiss upon your knuckles.

His thumb caresses your skin, the pad of it tracing little patterns against the back of your hand.  "You've been so stressed lately so i-" "You are much too generous to me," Leorio mutters into your skin. His grip on your hand is tight, as if he's worried you'll pull away.

His eyes flick open, and he looks up to meet your gaze. "You do not have to be this kind to me. Yet you are. You are too kind, my God," he repeats, the words quiet and reverent. He lifts himself up, resting on his elbow as he looks down at you. He brings your hand to his chest, holding it just over his heart. His free hand reaches to cup your face, his touch gentle yet firm.

He brings his face down to your ear, and the sound of his next words are as soft as a whisper. "Why do you have to do this to me? Why do you have to be so damn good?"

Menthuthuyoupi

You stare up at the big guy, "can I try something?" Menthuthuyoupi blinks, then gives a firm nod.

No matter what you say or ask for, he will do it without question or complaint. He has been yours since the first moment he laid eyes on you. "Can i play with your hair?" "My hair?"

Menthuthuyoupis voice is quiet, bewildered. Never in his long weeks of life has anyone asked to touch his hair before. "You… you can." He tries to keep himself still, but his body is tensed up. It takes all of his willpower to keep from leaning into your touch.

"Does it… is it good?" He can't help but ask. "Does it feel strange?" Yes. Yes, it is. "Yes," he says bluntly. "Didn't even know i had hair." "What?!" A small huff of irritation. Menthuthuyoupi shakes his head. "Now I know have hair." His hand reaches up to touch at one of the red locks, wrapping it around his finger and giving it a small, harsh little tug.

"I've just never…" he continues, pausing as if he isn't sure how to say what he means. "I've never been taking care of it." "Figured, it's greasey as hell."

Meruem

His eyes snap up to your face as you drum your fingers against his skull. He frowns for a moment— the barest twitch of his lips down.

He doesn't quite register what you are doing, just that your fingers are against his skin. Meruem is silent for a single heartbeat, and then he tilts his head into you, leaning into the touch. That touch makes Meruem pause, tilting his head back to give you a look, one corner of his lip lifting in an almost smirk.

"And what makes you think you can do such a thing to me?" Meruem asks. His voice has a hint of challenge to it, like he's testing you. "I just can." You smirk, knocking on his head. Meruem's smirk grows, and he lets out a soft laugh. There's no sarcasm in his voice, just a hint of amused disbelief.

"And that makes you think you're above me?" He asks, the challenge growing with his smile.

"Above the great king? Everything of course." Another laugh. Meruem shakes his head, letting out a breath as though he can't believe what he's hearing. He's not bothered or annoyed— far from it. Amusement is written all over his face as he looks up at you with a wide, wolfish grin. "You think you're that powerful, do you?" He muses, still with that hint of challenge in his voice. "My love for you is." That makes Meruem pause, looking up at you for a moment. That hint of challenge turns to surprise, and then that surprise fades into a soft, warm look. His smirk is gone as quickly as it came, replaced with a small smile.

"Is what?" He asks, voice much softer. "Love? The strange pulling in ones heart? What we talked about?" "What we talked about, yes." "I doubt your pulling compares to mine."

Morel

"Ey old man! Come here!" "Eh? Old man?" He sputters as if the very notion offends him."I am not that old," Morel protests. "How old do you believe I am?"

"100?" "One hundred?" Morel stares at you incredulously. His eyes narrow. His shoulders tense up. For a short moment, it looks as if he’s holding back a snort.

"You think I am a hundred years old?" "You have white hair." You run your fingers through his hair as he sits down. "That does not mean I am old," Morel saya. "It just... means my hair is white. It always was." He falls silent, crossing his arms over his chest in a huff. "You wouldn’t ask others with white hair their age, would you?" "I was just joking." The admission seems to soothe his wounded ego a little bit. "You could have used a more believable number,” he mutters, but there’s hardly any heat in the words.

"For your information, I’m not a hundred. I’m not even close to that old." He huffs, rising to his feet and dusting off the dirt from his clothes. "Not that it matters either way,” he adds, giving you a sidelong glance out of the corner of his eye. "I don’t suppose my age matters to you, my love," Morel says, the reverent title slipping easily from his tongue.

“I could be a hundred or thousand, immortal or not, and still,” he stops suddenly, eyes fixed on your face as the words die on his tongue. For a moment, he swallows, as if suddenly unable to find the words. “I would still be yours...and i know you like em older anyways.” "Ey-!"

Neferpitou

"No one? Ever?" You asked in disbelief. Neferpitou leans ever so slightly into your touch, enjoying the soft feeling of your fingers against their hair. No one else has ever done this.

"No," they murmur, "never like this. No one ever touched me like this." "What a shame...it's pretty." The corners of Neferpitous mouth twitch, something like pride swelling in their chest at your compliment. Your simple words mean everything to them. Praise from you is more valuable than all the riches in the whole universe.

"You flatter me," they say quietly, although there's no attempt to deny it. Not only is their hair pretty, but so are they, and they know it— but they also know only you can tell them that. "Hmm, maybe." your lips crack a smile. Neferpitou stares up at you, eyes burning like fireworks. They're not blind— they know you're teasing them. Your smugness is something they adore. All of your expressions are so unique, from the look on your face when you're fighting a battle, to the curve of your lips when you smile, all the way to how your eyes crinkle at the corners when you laugh. Humans are interesting. You especially.

They know exactly what you mean, even if they're not willing to admit it. Neferpitous expression is mischievous, their tone bordering on dangerous. They won't admit it out loud, but they do love playing with fire. Especially when it comes to you. You're a feisty little inferior species.

"Don't smirk, my human," they murmur, leaning closer until they're a mere breath away from you. "We both know I'm more than just pretty."

Netero (me and my eyebrow or bald jokes in this post are wild)

You can't help but feel slightly upset, "Damn...why'd you cut it?" A soft sigh escapes him as you ask why he cut his hair.

“It would've gotten in the way, and it became difficult to manage,” he murmurs in response, his eyes still closed as he drinks in the feeling of you touching him. “Plus… it will grow back,” he says. For a few moments, Netero remains still, enjoying the feeling of your fingers in his hair, until he opens his eyes and looks upward at you.

“Are you really that fond of it long?” He asks,  in his voice, as if he’s worried he disappointed you by cutting his hair in the first place. "You could've at least cut your eyebrows." You add with a smirk. Netero rolls his eyes dramatically, but even the small action isn’t enough to disguise the soft, flustered look on his face. “You know I can’t do that,” he says, but there’s mirth behind his words. “Unless you want me to run around with no eyebrows at all.”

"That would be a sight." You imagine. “I’d look absolutely ridiculous,” he says, but the way he’s grinning gives him away. "And you think you looked better before, old man?" Netero shoots an unimpressed look at you, his eyes narrowing slightly, but he knows you’re only teasing him. “You’d rather I looked like a caveman?” He asks, raising an eyebrow in a silent challenge. "You already d-" Netero cuts you with an indignant scoff at your comment and, for a moment, looks as if he’s about to protest, but then he stops, a small smile twisting his lips.

“Oh, quiet,” he says, his tone holding no bite. “I may be older than rocks, but I’m allowed to care about how I look.”

Nobunaga

"Washing is an option, yk?" "I know that," he mumbles, his eyes fluttering shut at your touch. He shivers slightly under your palm, his body as sensitive to your touch as a rose to sunlight. "I've been busy," he clarifies as you play with his hair, trying to come up with a good reason to escape your chiding. "I don't have time to bathe, is all."  He lets out a sigh, leaning into your touch like a kitten against a hand.

"And it's not that bad," he says, though his voice falters slightly— he knows he's lying. "Yeah sure." You smirk. "I've been sweating!" Nobunaga protests, as if that will solve everything.

"That's not my fault." He mutters, but when you tug lightly on his hair, he shivers again. "Relax." You calm him down. "I can't relax," he hisses, his eyes snapping open to glare up at you. "Not when you're—" He cuts himself off, his gaze suddenly shifting away as his cheeks flush. "I'll wash it for you later, okay?" taking care of a mess like this men is actually fun activities in your book. Especially when you can see him flustered. It takes a moment for his brain to process your words.

Nobunaga blinks, lifting his head from your hand to stare up at you, his mouth falling open.

"You—" a beat, "—you'll wash my hair?" You can practically see the smoke coming from his head. Nobunaga blinks, once, his mouth slowly falling open again as he processes what you'd said. His throat works silently as he grapples with the situation.

"You…" the word comes out faint, almost a whisper, as he tries to grasp what you're offering. "You'd… wash my hair?" he finally manages to get out, his face already starting to tint pink. "Yes?" "I—" he starts, hesitating as he tries to form a sentence, his thoughts flying to every possible meaning and implication of your words. Finally, after a moment of silence, his face completely flushed red, he manages to utter a response.

"I'd like that," he whispers, voice barely more than a sigh, though his words speak volumes as to how badly he wants you to do this.

Pariston

"It's so smooth?" It sounded more like a question than a statement. With all the products he uses you were almost sure his hair was like hay. He leans into your fingers, closing his eyes, a satisfied hum escaping his lips.

"Of course it is," he mumbles back, pride and arrogance dripping from every word. "After all," he continues. "I keep it that way for you. Gotta look good for my girl." His head tilts into your hand, seeking more of your touch. You can't help but roll your eyes at him. "What?" Pariston asks, his eyes opening. He lifts his head just to look at you, a single eyebrow raised.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, I'm being sincere," he says, tone a mix of amusement and mock-offence. "Since when." "Oh, always." He says, sitting up a little straighter. He leans back on one of his hands and grins. "You just don't notice because you never pay attention to me," he retorts. "I think..." He speaks slowly, fingers dancing over the top your other hand. "I think you're just cruel to me. That's what it is," he says decisively.

"You have no idea," he continues, his tone going from teasing to serious for a moment, "how much I adore you, and yet you treat me so callously." He fake pouts, a frown on his face, but you can see his eyes are dancing with mischief. "It's very insensitive of you." He admonishes you, his fingers moving over your skin.

"You should feel very guilty for treating the person who loves you more than anything like this," he admonishes, though there is a hint of a smile on his lips.

"And the person that finances your very being."

Phinks

"No," Phinks insists, pulling a little away from you. He scowls, crossing his arms at his chest. "Just… No." He won't let you ruffle his golden locks. "Why?" You whine slightly. "I don't want you to ruin it," he protests, running his fingers over his hair. He glares at you as his perfectly styled locks get mussed. "It takes hours to make it look good." Phinks frowns, his hair tousled from your touch. He combs his fingers through the messy blonde strands, trying in vain to return them to some semblance of order.

"I don't understand why you always have to touch my hair," he complains. "You're just like a child, always grasping at what the world has to offer without regard to the consequences," he says, still combing through his hair and trying to keep it away from you. "You have the impulse control of a three-year-old."

"But you love me." You smile innocently. Phinks can't help but soften a little at your words. He lets out a huff, his shoulders slumping as he gives up on his hair. He can never resist you.

"Yes, I love you," he admits, running a hand through his hair one last time. "Now, don't ruin my hair or I'll punish you." He doesn't sound all that threatening. In fact, you can imagine a hint of a smile flickering at his lips as he glares at you.

"If you make me look awful, there will be consequences," he says, though you suspect he's more likely to give you a kiss than actually punish you. He lets out a quiet sigh, running his hand through his tousled hair one final time before admitting defeat. He's fighting a losing battle— his hair is messy and sticking up at all sorts of ungraceful angles, and he's only going to undo any progress he makes by touching it. With a huff, he gives up, looking back at you.

"You're going to be the death of me one of these days, you know that?"

Pokkle

Every time you even think of coming near his hair, he looks up at you like a frightened doe. "I'll bite your hand, you know," he adds, though it is a very empty threat. "Why not? Shy?" You tease. "I–It's a mess." Pokkle protests, lifting a hand up and attempting to tame some of the messy locks of messy hair. He quickly gets frustrated however, huffing as it just flies right back in his face. "Besides… You'll mess it up…" "Can I at least brush it? Make it better?" Pokkle bites the inside of his cheek, looking down as if contemplating.

He remains like that for a few moments, thinking it over. He can't deny he wants you to touch his hair. That much is obvious. He's simply very stubborn, and won't say it.

He mumbles something under his breath that sounds vaguely like a reluctant yes. He turns around, presenting his back to you. His hair hangs messily over his shoulders.

His spine is ramrod straight, almost painfully so, and he’s clearly trying not to look over his shoulder at you. He's expecting his hair to be pulled, not brushed. He stays completely silent once you begin to brush his hair. He is still as stone, like a statue, but you can almost hear the sound of his mind racing even when you touch the brush to his hair.

He doesn’t look at you the entire time. In fact, he appears to be trying so desperately not to look at you that it’s like he’s fighting a losing battle with himself.

"Good?" Pokkle is quiet for a few seconds. He seems to have to collect himself, closing his eyes in an attempt to process what's just happened.

Finally, he nods, answering your question in a single word. "Good."

Razor

Razor doesn't question your request for a moment. If you want to, he will allow it. His head dips down, allowing you better access.

"You may. It's yours." "...its so short." you mumble. "I never let it grow." Razor responds, then lets out a quiet little hum as you play with the strands of his hair. It is indeed short, just barely long enough to play with. His neck twists a little, tilting to the side as you ruffle his hair. Razor is surprisingly pliant at your ministrations.

"You like to play with it, I take it?" He asks, a touch of amusement in his tone. "Meh, it's alright." Razor lets out a quiet scoff, the corner of his lips twitching.

"Only 'alright'," he mutters, but there's a hint of a smile in his words. "Just say you like it." He leans closer to you, head tilting down to look at you. "I know you like it," he teases, the corners of his mouth twitching. "You love to play with this short hair. Admit it."

"Hmm,...no." Razor snorts. "Why not?" He murmurs, leaning in a little more, so his head is resting against your leg. "It's short and soft. I can tell you like it, don't lie." Razor lets out another quiet scoff, though it is not meant as rude. He is too comfortable to care how he sounds. "Your hand is still in my hair," he whispers, tilting his head a little more to give you better access.

"Admit it, you like it." He smirks.

Shaiapouf

Shaiapoufs head is leaned against you, his eyes closed as your fingers run through his golden locks. He shudders at your touch, a low hum of satisfaction rumbling in his chest like a distant storm. After a few moments of comfortable silence, he finally opens his eyes and speaks.

"What are you doing?" He asks, voice heavy with exhaustion and contentment. "Hmm, nothing." Shaiapouf raises an eyebrow, glancing up at you from his place beside you. He smiles a little mischievously as he leans into your touch. "Just playing with my hair for no reason, then?" He teases. Even through the weariness in his voice, there's a hint of mirth there, like he wants to see how you'll respond. "Yeah." "Liar,"

He laughs, reaching up and grabbing your wrist, moving you hand back to his hair. He gently guides your fingers through his locks once again, his eyes closing, a soft sigh falling from his lips. "You just want an excuse to touch me, don't you?" Shaiapouf rolls over, laying himself against your side, head resting on your shoulder, his body pressed against you like a shadow.

He slings an arm around your middle, pulling himself close. "Gods, you're warm." He mumbles, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Shaiapouf hums contentedly as he cuddles against you, feeling the heat of your body seeping into his skin. He pulls you closer, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly.

"You're soft," he murmurs, his breath warm and ticklish against your cheek. "So soft..."

Shalnark

The feeling of you sitting in his lap makes Shalnark hyper aware of you. He tries to stay focused on the computer screen, he really does, but it’s hard to when you’re playing with his hair.  “What are you doing…?” He asks, swallowing thickly as his eyes dart from the computer to your hand in his hair. "Playing, like you." You mumble, keep playing. He lets out a slight huff, but there’s no annoyance in it.

“Are you trying to make it difficult for me to concentrate?” He asks, giving you a light smirk. “Not that I would want you to stop,” he adds as an afterthought, his voice growing softer.

Despite his words, Shalnark still continues to try and focus on the computer screen rather than on how it feels when your fingers glide through his hair. After a few moments, it becomes too distracting. Shalnark lets out a small huff, his fingers resting on the keyboard, unmoving. He turns his head a bit to look at you. A light flush has dusted his cheeks; his gaze almost seems a bit petulant, but there’s no real annoyance in it.

“You are doing this on purpose.” "Noooo." Shalnark gives you an unconvinced look.

“Liar.” He mumbles, tilting his head back a bit. The bare expanse of his neck shines in the cold light of the computer screen. His eyes flutter closed, and he lets out a soft sigh as he feels your fingers running through his hair again.

“I know you’re too smart to do this unintentionally.”  Despite his words, he can’t hide the way he relaxes with your hand on him.

Shoot

Shoots eyes slip shut as you touch his hair. It's been a long time since he's felt the gentle caress of your fingers against his scalp. You would think this would be enough to soothe him, but his chest still rises and falls quickly, his breaths uneven and choppy in his chest.

"Thank you," he stutters, trying to control his breathing. "Your touch feels like paradise," he whispers, almost so quiet you can't hear it.

"Missed it?" You laugh as you keep braiding his hair. He nods, feeling the gentle tug of your fingers on his hair. Shoot opens his eyes and looks up at you, his gaze unfocused. His head is foggy and hazy, his mind slipping away as you continue to braid his hair. "Yes," he admits, voice quiet.

"Yes, I missed it." "So...the mission?" Shoots expression darkens a little when you mention the mission. The mere mention of those words turns his mind to memories he would rather forget. "It was complicated," he confesses, watching your fingers move through his hair. "The mission…"

He pauses, his eyes growing a little distant. "...It did not go as well as planned." "...oh." "It was…" He falters. Something in Shoot shifts, a change in the air; as if the very atmosphere around him has grown darker. His mind drifts back to the mission, replaying the events of the past few days.

"There were... issues," he states, trying to keep his voice steady. "Obstacles. Setbacks. It was not the success we were hoping for."

Uvogin

Uvogin ducks his head to avoid the brush once again, a quiet scoff leaving him.

"I can brush it myself," he mutters, and reaches up. His hair is tangled and messy after spending most of the day without his hair being brushed — but he doesn't like having others run their hands through his hair for him. He can do it himself.  "Do you even know what a brush is?" you ask as a joke. Uvogin narrows his eyes at the words, a quiet huff leaving him.

"Of course I know what a brush is," he says, and snatches the hairbrush from you, holding it with an almost possessive grip. "I'm not an animal." Uvogin mutters something to himself— probably something about you being annoying— but he sits down and starts to run the brush through his long locks.

He looks like he is struggling. A lot. But he won't ask for your help. His pride won't allow it. "I can he-" "No."It's a short, quick answer. Uvogin immediately shuts down any offer you may have had before you can even finish speaking. He's stubborn, and he doesn't want to ask for your help— even though he very clearly needs it.

It's a sight to behold, the brush sticking in his hair and him struggling to brush it through. You walk up and hug his back. Uvogin stiffens at your sudden embrace, but he doesn't try to push you away. He continues to struggle with the brush, until he finally— begrudgingly— lowers his hands.

"Fine," he says, and it's clear it pains him to admit defeat. "You can do it."

Wing

Wing practically melts under your touch. His head rests against you like a pillow, and he hums in contentment as you play with his hair. He is warm, his chest rising and falling in a deep, even rhythm. "Tough day?" A heavy sigh escapes Wing. He nods, just a fraction, his face pressed into your chest.

"Yes." His voice is quiet, almost as if he doesn’t want to speak too loudly, in case it breaks this perfect moment. He pauses, hesitating, his eyes closing as he listens to your heartbeat.

"You make it better," he confesses, the words whispered into your skin like a secret. His breath is gentle, a soft sigh falling from his lips as he relishes being this close to you. After a few moments, he shifts, wrapping his arms around your waist in a hug, and burying his face into the crook of your neck.

"Being with you is my favorite part of the day," he admits quietly, breathing deeply of your scent. "Then I'm glad..." Wing nods his head, nuzzling into your chest a little more. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice barely loud enough for even you to hear. His body is flush with yours, his chest pressed against you. Every breath he takes, every rise and fall of his rib cage, you can feel against your own skin. Wings arms gently tighten around you, his grip almost desperate, like he’d die if he was torn away from you. "Love you too..." Wings hold on you tightens when you return the sentiment. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck and lets out a shaky breath.

“Say it again,” he whispers, a hint of pleading in his tone. The words are uttered as a near demand.

Forgot to answer it like an idiot omfg

[elaemae]

The premium version of human is here to wreck house, mfs.

[Twst x ObeyMe!AFAB!reader]

CHP. 7

Again, I thank y'all for the reblogs, likes and comments guys, it really helps me :)

CW: Blue pronouns or address for MC every time they get mistaken for a guy. Also, I'm a potty mouth so MC is too.

Inhale..

Exhale....

Inhale......

Exhale.......

Inhale.........

Ex-fucking-hale.......

You're about to have a stroke right now.

You should've just went back to the goddamn infirmary instead of checking in on these obnoxious, bitch-less, probably father-less, motherfuckers.

It's just cleaning windows!! How the hell can you mess up like this?! Why the fuck did the cafeteria chandelier get involved??

GODDAMNIT!! WHY IS YUU INVOLVED AS WELL?! AHHHH—!

*One eternity of screaming like a banshee later*

After sending those damn kids and cat away to get some sort of magical stone in some godforsaken mine, you wrangled with the headmaster for at least two hours to prevent him from writing up the expulsion papers of Yuu and that Blue-haired kid who was mostly innocent about the ordeal.

(Meanwhile, encouraging him to kick that Ace kid and the damn cat off the school. You ain't about to let audacity run free rn, mostly because you feel yourself start genuinely tweaking as you almost got possessed by the urge to sucker punch someone's soul out of their body.)

[Satan perked up, there it was again.

That distinctive spark of wrath that he can feel through your pact with him is both concerning and comforting.

On one hand, the anger he feels means that you're alive. And seeing that what he's feeling through the pact is mostly annoyance, then that must mean that nothing marginally bad or traumatizing had happened to you yet.

You're actually more pissed off in a 'someone-had-the-audacity-to-eat-my-snacks' kind of way more than anything else, meaning that you're safe for now.

But on the other hand, he doesn't know how long that temporary safety will last.

There's also the fact this is the fourth time he'd felt that spark of 'I-wanna-punt-someone-into-the-fuckin-sun' kind of anger from you, which is worrying because it hasn't even been 48 hours since you were kidnapped by some mf.

He shook his head, calling upon a subordinate (read: Devoted fan) to collect more and more books to learn what type of teleportation and sleeping magic was used in your kidnapping.

With the massive search party spanning all three realms that they'd called upon, they will find you sooner or later.

And once they do...

Well... You'll need to get used to being with someone at all hours of the day.]

*Passive-aggresively reminding Crowley that he can't kick out an innocent kid for something they didn't directly do as they had no way of stopping the events that transpired.*

["You don't want the word to get out that you let an innocent teen roam around in a foreign world with absolutely nothing to their name and nobody to protect them, right?"

"That is true, but I still can't just let this go unpunis–"

"Especially when it's the school's faulty equipment that took them so far away from all of their loved ones and belongings, right?"]

Needless to say, Yuu ended up being "fired" in the end, quite an unfortunate result because they will need to freeload off of you until the end of your stay in this world. (Poor them, they got fired before they knew that they had a job in the first place.)

Oh well, it's better than being kicked out from practically their only way back home right now...

Hays... That cruel crow..

Anygays, it's time to snoop around and hopefully make some connections to the residents of this school.

This is a well-known college, right? So there should be influential people here somewhere...

Hehe.. It's time you bring out your gaslight, gatekeep, gold-digging skills so that you can girlboss your way into stability inside this foreign world.

• • • • • •

Suddenly, more than a dozen individuals felt a strong shiver run up their spines.

Haha... Well that's ominous!

• • • • • •

Ortho deadpanned at his brother.

It seems that almost burning down their dorm room last night isn't enough to deter him from making his [Mr. L/n x reader] fanfiction complete with mandatory fan art for every single chapter.

Haaa....

But at least his brother isn't 'fanboying' about another fictional character again...

Hm... Now that he thinks about it..

Maybe his brother will be more inclined to make friends if it's Mr. L/n!

And thus begins Ortho's journey of being an unknowing wingman as he tries to get his introverted brother to make friends.

• • • • • •

You narrowed your eyes as you looked at the small gift on top of your temporary bed in the infirmary.

Dats suspicious....

Dats weird......

You turn your necklace into a staff and start poking the box, trying to see if it'll suddenly turn into a horrific eldritch monster and jump you. (Won't be the first time that happened.)

• • • • •

"It is done, ××× ×× ××××××" (This is too easy to guess😑)

• • • • •

Diavolo sighed for the tenth time that hour, lamenting how trying to focus on his paperwork is a really hard task when MC gets thrown into the situation.

'Maybe a small break will help clear my head?'

He might as well just go out for a walk in the garden to get some fresh... air...

Oh? what is this?

His eyes scanned the dark envelope he'd seen wedged under the 'To burn' stack of paperwork in his desk.

This envelope wasn't here yesterday...

After confirming that the piece of paper wasn't cursed or charmed, he opened it with apprehension.

...!

This..!

• • • • •

Barbatos appeared in the office, tense as he'd heard his lord call out his name with haste.

Reading the letter shoved in front of his face by the serious Diavolo, Barbatos made a mental note to get the dungeon chambers ready.

They've got themselves a lead.

← Pr.6 | Chapter List | Chp. 1.1 →

Just tell me if y'all wanna get added in the permanent taglist, even if I already tagged y'all here.

That's just so I'll know if you wanna get tagged in all the upcoming chapters of this fanfic.

@caprinaesprout

@iameliseposts

@leviathans-tail-scales

@twst-om-lover

@a-traveling-void-human

Reblog or I'll take your ankles😈 (Pls like and reblog, it really gives me motivation🥺)

Also, the next chap is the start of Arc 1: Satan but short.

[glorious-spoon]

Buck/Eddie - Thunder

"You know, I always used to like storms when I was a kid," Buck says sleepily. He hasn't moved his face from Eddie's shoulder, but the tension has started to ease out of his body, enough that he doesn't even flinch at the next flash of lightning. Eddie runs a hand up his spine and counts the seconds in his head until the sharp crack of thunder that follows: a few miles away, more distant than it was. Hopefully the storm is passing on to the next county.

"Yeah?" he asks. It's sleep-raspy, though he feels very awake. From the storm, and from the warmth of Buck's body. This isn't the first time they've shared a bed during a thunderstorm—Buck makes sheepish jokes about feeling like a skittish dog, and Eddie laughs at them because that's what they do, they talk around the edges of things, they always have—but it feels new this time.

First time since Buck came out. Since he broke up with Tommy. Since Eddie stopped lying to himself about what he feels.

"Yeah. Thought—" Buck yawns. "Thought cumulonimbus clouds were so cool. Maddie got me a bunch of books out of the library."

Eddie smiles to imagine that: Buck as a towheaded little boy, clutching his big sister's hand and a stack of library books, chattering about cloud formations. It's a better mental image than the one of Buck hanging limply in his harness while lightning split the sky.

So maybe it's not just for Buck. Eddie would take that to his grave if not for the fact that he's pretty sure Buck knows anyway.

"You can tell me all about it in the morning," he murmurs. "Go back to sleep."

"Kay," Buck mumbles. "G'night, Eddie."

"Good night." Eddie turns his head just enough to press a quick, impulsive kiss to the curly top of Buck's head, and before he can even begin to panic about it, he feels Buck smile against his shoulder, shifting closer.

(Send me a word and a pairing and I'll write you a ficlet!)

[hallecarey1]

His Touch | Bucky Barnes

Summary: As Bucky is suffering because he can't reassure you that he is returning home, you were suffering because you didn't know if Bucky would come home to you. After returning, he shows that you will never lose him, and you connect in a way that proves nothing eases suffering like human touch.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Swearing and Smut (18+)

Author's note: This was my first attempt at writing smut, and to be honest, I'm not sure how I feel about it.

Flashes of Bucky's bloody corpse flooded your mind while you did nothing but sit and worry about him. The thought of Steve or Fury knocking on your door to inform you that Bucky died during the mission had kept you pacing in front of it restlessly.

Despite Fury's warning that the mission would be challenging, you were confident that Bucky would return home a few days later. But when the days grew into weeks and there were no updates, you began to worry that he would never return to you. 

Bucky knows he needs to return to you because you've told him several times in the middle of the night, with tears running down your cheeks and his arms around your waist, that you simply can't live without him. It was his promise to you just before boarding the Quinjet two weeks ago.

There hasn't been any word from anyone regarding his whereabouts, and the fact that he's been missing for two weeks brings back flashbacks of Bucky at Hydra. You were horrified as the thought of Bucky being kidnapped by Hydra struck yet another emotional nerve. You drank from the whisky bottle, hoping that the burn of the alcohol down your throat would ease your thoughts and stop the memories of your captivity with the Soldat. 

When you entered Bucky's room, you had changed into clean pajamas, your damp hair clinging to the shirt. Bucky's scent hit you as his red henley draped over your tiny frame, evoking a sense of protection and comfort. You crawled into his bed and grabbed a book to keep yourself occupied until you got an update on Bucky. 

You yawn as you lie in bed, taking in the soft pillow and comfortable mattress. You felt the full impact of tiredness from the many days and nights you had not slept as you turned a new page in your book. Bucky's scent drifting from his bed and shirt, as well as the warmth of his bed, lulled you to sleep.

Within hours of you falling asleep, the compound's elevator opened to reveal a bloodied and bruised Bucky. Bucky dashed to his room after Dr.Cho patched up his wounds so he could finally sleep and hold you in his arms. 

He stumbled onto the floor, which he shared with Steve and Sam, and carefully opened the door to his room with the goal not to wake you up. As he entered his room and saw you curled into a ball with his red henley draped over your tiny frame and his dog tags around your neck, he couldn't control his arousal. He approached you and removed the book from your sleeping figure, which he placed on the bedside table.

The spark of desire he felt when he saw you wearing his henley and dog tags sprang from a need to show everyone that you were his, as well as a possessive desire to keep outsiders and newcomers from touching what was his. Bucky was kindling that deep longing in him, but he controlled it because, no matter how much he wanted to stake his claim on you, he just needed to feel you. Feeling your touch reassures him that he is not an unlovable monster.

Your deep sleep is disturbed by a cool touch on your head and the sensation of lips brushing on your cheek. When you open your eyes, you see Bucky hovering over you, his stubbled face smiling, and his metal hand running through your hair.

"Bucky?" you question sleepily as you rub your eyes, your awoken state making it difficult to tell whether Bucky is real or a hallucination.

"Hi, doll. I’m sorry for being late." He apologizes and leans in close, kissing you on both cheeks, nose, and forehead before softly pulling away with a kiss on your lips.

As you look into each other's eyes, he lightly caresses the softness of your cheek with his cold fingers. You put one hand on Bucky's cheek and the other securely in his dark hair, luring him into a passionate kiss."I thought you left me," you muttered against his lips, a faint whimper escaping your lips. Because he had been missing for so long, you were terrified.

Because Steve had known him for a long time and appeared completely calm and confident in Bucky's safety, the S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents labeled you an attention seeker when they saw you freaking out about the possibility of Bucky being captured and taken by Hydra again, believing you were overreacting and being dramatic.

It made your blood boil. It didn't matter that Steve had known Bucky for longer than you had; what was meant to be important was that Bucky had been sent on a mission and had not communicated with anyone, despite the fact that he was supposed to return to the base two weeks ago.

Yes, Steve had known Bucky for much longer than you, but you had spent three years in HYDRA together. You built a bond during your stay there. You connected in ways no one could fathom, a bond that kept you both alive while retaining your humanity. 

Bucky, even as the Winter Soldier, never hurt you and made sure no one else touched what was his. Similarly, when they brainwashed you and changed you into the Phoenix, you became assassins who protected one another no matter what happened on the mission.

"I'd never leave you," he says as he presses his lips to yours and kisses you passionately. It wasn't his intention to inform you, but there was a brief moment during his mission when he was afraid he wouldn't see you again.

Flashback: 

This mission had been particularly difficult for him. Everything was going according to plan as he removed Hydra agents from left to right until he felt a searing prick in his neck and everything went black. During that time, the agents bound him to a chair and tortured him in the hopes of eliciting information from him. When he realized the promise he made to you would be broken, he was filled with fear and sorrow. He was convinced he would never see you again. But it wasn't until a hydra doctor appeared, clutching a red book with a black star on the cover, that everything became clear.

Bucky's face lit up with a little grin when he noticed the red book. The Winter Soldier was the deadliest murdering machine ever devised. He would gladly offer him to them if they wanted him. Everything seemed to be going according to plan until the trigger words were said. The Winter Soldier was vehemently opposed to cooperating. The gaze he fired at them horrified them. He was simply there to protect you, and when he learned you weren't there, all hell broke loose. He destroyed the Hydra base in less than five minutes and followed the trail in his mind that led to you. Once the Winter Soldier had gotten the Quinjet in the sky, he relinquished control. 

Present Time: 

When he felt your cold fingers caress his cheekbones, he smiled against your lips and breathed heavily as he pulled away from the kiss. As Bucky drags your body down the bed, you squeal in surprise, and a mischievous gleam appears in his cerulean eyes as he slides his body between your legs.

You're still laughing as he kisses you more, but it fades quickly when his hands squeeze your hips and drag your body lower so he's laying on top of you. His hand on your hip went gently upward, going under his shirt and resting firmly on your lower back. He pushed your body closer to his, groans escaping you both from the sensation of his bulge pressing against your covered core. 

As the kiss intensifies, the friction of his thick erection against your core causes a wet patch on your underwear. You release a gasp when the coldness of his metal hand reaches the heated flesh above your underwear, his lips caressing your neck as he sneaks his hand under your shorts and rubs your clad core.

The ache between your thighs pushes you to clench your thighs around Bucky's hand, and his hungry eyes meeting yours only adds to the heat blazing in your core. When his fingers graze your clit, you groan as your panties are dragged against your throbbing clit, begging to feel his touch and remove the barrier that keeps you from feeling completely satisfied.

As he slips his hand under your pantyhose and brushes his metal fingers against the soft, shaved skin on your mound, you shiver. "Please, I need you," you gasped, tilting your head back as he pressed his lips against yours, moaning as he rubbed your clit with his wet, juice-soaked fingers.

"I got you, baby," he said softly in your ear, gasping as he pushed a finger inside your tight pussy. His palm brushed your clit as he curled his fingers. Bucky lifted his head, his gaze fixed on yours. He watched as your lips opened and your face distorted in delight. "Are you ready for another pretty girl?"

You exhale, feeling his smirk on your neck as he softly pushes another finger inside your tight pussy. "I missed you so much. Please fuck me. I need you." As his palm presses harder against your clit, you sob.

Bucky was hovering over you, breathing heavily, as you reached up and grabbed the front of his shirt, drawing him in closer. With slow, open-mouth kisses over your neck, he nipped at your collarbone. "Not yet, no. I need to taste you," he says, slipping his hand out of your shorts and withdrawing his lips away from your neck. He puts his wet fingers in his mouth and groans softly at the taste of you, peering right into your eyes

"You taste so good, baby," he says, adjusting his Henley to rest against your ribcage, leaving sloppy kisses from your underboob to your navel. A pleased feeling spreads throughout your body as Bucky's actions continue downward. 

While you hold his gaze, Bucky's lips slide down to your pussy, tugging your underwear aside as he leaves a gentle kiss on your clit, you gasp your hand reaching down to run your fingers through his hair. 

He kisses your thigh and bites the delicate flesh before hooking his thumbs into your underwear waistband and dragging them down your smooth legs before resting on his knees. "Spread your legs for me, baby." His low, velvety voice sent shivers down your spine, and you sheepishly agreed. 

"Shit, doll. So wet for me." He let out a choked grunt before palming his large erection through his tactical pants, forcing you to whine. When he gripped your thighs strongly, your shaking hands gripped the sheets tightly, his eyes fixed on yours as he swiped a finger over your wet folds, making your breathing increase. 

"Bucky," you moaned as his tongue flattened against your core, his warm tongue gliding across your virgin sex. You let out a loud groan as his tongue slid between your folds and circled the tip of his tongue around your clit.

"Tastes so fuckin' good." Bucky sighs, pulling your lips apart with his thumb and finger. You tugged harder on Bucky's hair as you felt his warm tongue plunge into your cunt, the sensation of Bucky moaning into your cunt had your toes curling. 

Bringing his hand up your body, he grasped your breast, softly twisting your nipple. Your lips parted and your eyelids closed as you felt the coldness of his hand. You buck up into his mouth as he sucks the sensitive bundle of nerves between his lips that has you spewing his name out between gasps, your head dropping back onto the pillow. "Bucky." You moan, sensing your approach.

Bucky pulled away just as you were going to cum. His lips had met yours as your hand moved over his suit, unbuckling and unstrapping it. He hurls his vest across the room, leaving him bare-chested. As you smooth over the scarred skin on his shoulder, you press a soft kiss to it and the ones around it, making him tremble above you.

"I want to feel you cum around my cock," he murmured, unbuckling his belt and tossing it on the ground, his pants and boxers landing on top. Your attention shifted from the planes of his strong chest to the trail of dark hair at his navel, which led to his big and erect cock. As you moved your hand down his chest to his cock, you could see beads of pre-cum seeping from his tip. “Doll.” His hips jerked up as you wrapped your hand around his thick cock.

Adding a pleasing pressure as you jerked him off, Bucky's hand removed yours swiping his thumb over the pre-cum seeping from his tip. “You look so hot when you wear my clothes.” He praised, running his thumb over your bottom lip before slipping it into your mouth. You complied, sucking his pre-cum off his thumb, Bucky groaned as he felt you moaning around his digit.

"That was so hot, baby." Pulling his thumb out, dragging your bottom lip down, saliva coating it. He intertwined his cold metal hand with yours and placed it next to your head.“I love you,олукa.” He looked you in the eyes and caressed your cheek with his warm palm, causing your eyelids to close for a fraction of a second before opening and gazing into his cobalt eyes.

"I love you, too, Bucky." Your love for him was visible in your eyes, and when he looked into them, all he saw was happiness and love. Bucky hovers over you, lines his tip up to your entrance, then softly and carefully pushes himself into you, inch by inch, until he's completely sheathed. When your tight walls stretched around his thick member, you winced into the kiss as it burned.

His warm hand went under your thigh and grasped it as he thrust his hips forward, kissing your collarbone with his lips. Bucky growled as you tighten your grip on him as he thrust toward you. "Bucky. " You whimpered, your free hand grasping the hair on the back of his neck.

Bucky reached down and rubbed his fingers hard across your sensitive clit. You could feel the tension in your gut loosening as you rested your forehead against his and locked your gaze with his. "I'm gonna cum, Bucky." Bucky drove into you faster and harder, and you moaned, your eyes shutting.

"Come on, baby," he moaned, slamming himself into you at a rapid rate, his metal hand encircling your throat. "Cum on my dick, doll." Bucky's grasp on your throat intensified, causing you to cry out. The cold from his metal fingers around your throat snapped the coil in your stomach, core tightening from the satisfaction of your release.

Bucky reached his own peak as your walls tightened around him. "Fuck, doll," he mumbled into your ear as he released into you. A shiver goes through his body as he continues to thrust into you, working both of you through your high.

"Fuck, baby," he whispers as he pulls his cock out of you.  He reaches down to your delicate cunt with two fingers, seeing his cum drip out, and pushes it back into you. He placed his fingers soaked in his cum and your release into your mouth, and you could feel your legs trembling from your previous climax. 

"As hot as that was, I think we should get cleaned up and get ready for bed." Bucky chuckles as he pulls you to the end of the bed. Bucky enters the bathroom and returns with a wet washcloth. He opens your legs and begins wiping up the cum dripping between your legs, but you gasp as the wet towel brushes across your sensitive core.

"I'm sorry, baby. Did I go too rough?" Bucky stares at you with sadness in his eyes as he tosses the wet washcloth into the dirty laundry hamper.

“No. You did everything perfectly, just a little sensitive." You wrap your arms over his shoulders and run your fingers through his hair. Bucky leans towards you, sighing as your fingers run through his hair.

"How about you take a shower while I get dressed and change the bed sheets?" You suggest to Bucky, knowing he had a difficult mission.

“A shower sounds great.” Bucky nods

“Ok. Go take a shower; when you're done, everything will be ready for bed." You kiss his forehead before watching him walk into the bathroom.

You put on a clean pair of underwear, shorts, and one of Bucky's t-shirts before removing the bed sheets and comforter and replacing them with new ones on the bed. Just as you finish placing the comforter on the bed, the bathroom door opens to see Bucky in only his boxers.

Before you both crawl into bed, you exchange an affectionate smile.Bucky sat with his back against the headboard, looking for anything to watch on TV, and you sat next to him, drawing the blanket up to your chin and resting your head on his chest before he laid his arm over your shoulders.

"I thought I'd lost you." you trembled.

"You'll never lose me, baby," he whispered as he glanced at you, but Bucky observed tears pouring down your cheeks as he connected his sight to yours. Bucky moved you to sit on his lap. "Shh, baby. It's okay, I'm here." Bucky cupped his hands around your face, brushing away tears with his thumbs. 

You buried your face in his neck as sobs took over your body, Bucky tightening his arms around you, doing his best to console you. "I was afraid I'd never see you again," you say as you pull him closer.

Bucky drew you away and wiped your tears with his head against yours. "I'm so sorry to have scared you, sweetheart. I discovered an abandoned cabin to stay in, but I couldn't communicate with anyone."He said this as you drew back to assess him for injuries.

"I love you so much, Bucky," Your eyes flood up with emotions as you convey your feelings for him. "I love you, too, baby." leaning forward to give you a gentle kiss on the lips.

"Til the end of the line, doll." He kissed the top of your head. You wrapped your arms around him and rested your head on his chest. While fiddling with your hair, he kissed your head. You raise your hand up to your mouth, intertwined with his metal one, and kiss his hand softly.

“We need that touch from the one we love, almost as much as we need air to breathe. But I never understood the importance of touch, until the day I met Bucky Barnes. He saved me. In every way that a person can be saved.”

Translation: голубка - Dove

[merrilark]

Okay, I've only read a few chapters of Young Blood so far, but some of the things I really enjoy (with mild character-related spoilers; I probably won't say anything about the plot itself yet):

That we're given most of the Umbrellas' favorite foods! Klaus likes bubblegum ice cream, Diego likes roast beef with new potatoes and green beans, Luther likes hamburgers, and Allison used to like hotdogs. There's nothing about Viktor or Five's so far, but we can assume Five's has always been fluffernutters.

Diego is implied to be extremely food-motivated and I love that for him. Viktor thinks he could be a star chef if he wanted to ditch superhero work. 11/10, love foodie Diego.

Reginald named his car Hermes (I'm strangely affectionate about this).

Klaus has been hotwiring Reginald's car since 12 and was taught to drive by a dead NASCAR driver. Klaus enjoyed sitting in the garage with the car running, but didn't realize that you could get monoxide poisoning that way. He's apparently died frequently, and thought he was just going to sleep. Pogo would carry him to bed.

This implies Pogo knew that Klaus was immortal, and most likely also knew that Reginald was routinely killing him.

Klaus also has been planning to leave the Academy for a long time, but hasn't gotten up the nerve. We all know that Diego is the first to leave and (at least according to You Look Like Death) Klaus was the last, so I think this is an interesting angle. It doesn't break canon, per se, but it raises a few questions about why Klaus didn't leave like he planned.

Ben asked every day if Klaus had seen Five's ghost. His biggest hope is that they'll one day all be together again. This shatters me.

It's also interesting that Ben is both one of the most obedient and yet most vocal about Reginald's abuse. He seems extremely aware of it, but is far too afraid to defy their father and kills primarily because he knows that he'll be reprimanded if he doesn't.

Ben canonically views himself as a monster. :( I knew this. I suspected this. But still. Seeing it typed out makes me :((( lmao

I'm also really enjoying that it neither shies away from Luther/Allison nor the fact that it's extremely normalized between the Umbrellas to be pretty, unrepentant jerks toward each other. I think that if they removed any of these things, or chose to gloss over them, it'd risk watering down the effects of their abuse too much in a book that already doesn't seem keen on diving too deeply into their trauma. It's also interesting to see how blatantly weird they all are developmentally and socially, straddling a line between considering each other family and treating each other like coworkers. At times, it feels a lot like they just call each other siblings, but there's no real attachment to those terms, even if they do care about each other a lot. They really do not understand how to be a family or normal kids, or hardly even real people outside of the super-powered killing machines that Reginald wanted them to be.

On to some things I'm not totally digging but aren't a deal-breaker:

Mild canon inaccuracies. I've been told that this book is pretty glaring in the department, but so far I haven't seen anything too bad. The only notable ones so far are: - That the Umbrellas, except Klaus, have never sneaked out before. It's been a while since I've seen S1, but I could swear that it's canon that they all regularly sneaked out to Griddy's even before Five left. - Klaus calls himself a telepath. This is common fanon, but there's nothing in canon itself to support that he is capable of telepathy. In fairness, though, Sheinmel, the author, doesn't actually seem to write Klaus as a telepath. It really just reads as if she thinks that telepathy and mediumship are the same thing. - There's a lot of emphasis on Luther being big. He's constantly being described as struggling with his clothes, or fantasizing about how much larger he'll get, and rips the back out of a jacket at one point because... I guess?? he's so large??? He's very much written as if Sheinmel thinks that Luther is a musclebound 17 year old, when teenage Luther has never been big in the same way that post-serum adult Luther has been. He was always tall, yes, but I really don't think he should have been struggling with tearing clothes.

Typos. It's not glaring, but there are some errors here and there with spelling and punctuation. Combined with the telepath thing, I wonder if Sheinmel just didn't have a great editor.

The writing style is really juvenile. I knew that this would be a young adult novel, so I didn't expect beautiful prose, but the writing feels like this book is meant for the younger end of YA. It rambles, restates obvious points, and sometimes the phrasing feels dumbed down to the point of near condescension. Meanwhile, characters still use mild swears, which gives the book this weird feeling that it doesn't quite know what age bracket it was written for.

But I am otherwise really enjoying it so far. It's fun and I appreciate the insight into the Umbrellas' lives as teens and their internal thoughts about each other, regardless of how canon or not-canon this novel is.

[froldgapp]

In your timlonnie future fic where Tim goes to jail, do you have any ideas/hcs on what the final straw was that led to Tim and Kon's falling out? Tim's still talking to Gar by the time the fic starts, but I'm honestly fascinated by all the bridges he managed to burn trying to take down the main villain

Weeee! I'm so delighted you asked this, because this is a part of the greater story I'm actually really clear on! This is very long! Oops!

For anyone who doesn't know my corporate mole!Tim story, here's the original post. The sequel, which ended up being a TimxLonnie story, is here.

"...all the bridges he managed to burn trying to take down the main villain." So, absolutely this. I can't see myself mustering the energy to write the "prequel" or "Book 1" (and what was actually the original idea), so I don't mind sharing the bones here :D

Tim, in his effort to become believably repulsive enough to gain greater access to the people and information he needs, alienates the wider population, including and especially the broader superhero community. The corporate cabal start to push the narrative to the wider population that it's superheroes' fault there's no money for healthcare, no resources for schools and roads and affordable housing–in fact, why are we even letting these monsters live amongst us? Who cares if they save a life here and there–they're not natural! (A big element of allegory to all of this, naturally. <glares at current state of the world>)

Tim, as a young shill trying to prove himself, is selected as the best-placed person to be the face of this campaign. Probably with no small amount of hubris too, he believes he has enough social capital in the hero community to do this... People trust him. People trust Dick (the only other person besides Bruce* in the know). So, he makes a decision to walk this line, always holding on to the belief that it's for the greater good and that when he succeeds, he'll make amends. And it's Tim, so we know that by the time he's in his late teens, he already has a record of breaking a few eggs to make an omelette.

But, people–his friends–are hurt. Confused. Some become angry. Older heroes feel the shadow of history rise up; it's not their first time seeing an idealist tip into fanaticism and villainy. There's a lot of pressure on Dick to run interference on Tim's behalf. This puts a strain on Tim's relationship with Dick. Dick begins to wonder... Do I know what Tim is doing? The deeper Tim goes though, the bigger the act. There are times of incredible pressure when Tim must convince even himself that he is this disgusting, craven, cruel person.

But at some point, the community have had enough. Ultimately, they have to safeguard their wellbeing, so, as per chapter 4, as Tim tells Lonnie:

"I didn’t expect to be taken off the board before I had a chance to tie it all up. But Dick had a tip-off that the League was going to make a move to neutralise me: take me off-world for a while, memory wipe, something..."

So when the plan works begins to turn to if. The walls close in. Tim's hand is forced and he makes the blunder that ultimately gets him shot. Entré Kon.

Kon, who was initially trusting of Tim, and even supportive of him; defending him to everybody who tried to cast aspersions on him. He approaches Tim at one point even, begging Tim to tell him it's all a ruse. But Tim... The lie is the most important thing to Tim at that point, so he pushes Kon away. The relationship fractures. Kon feels a fool. Had he not defended Tim all these months? Was Tim just using him to keep the other heroes at bay? Very likely at this point Tim tells him, "Yes, I was. You were always easy to manipulate." Inside, naturally, Tim's heart is breaking.

So at the climax of Book 1, Tim is shot, right as he's about to dispatch everything to, let's say Lane or Gordon. I don't think he'd be stupid enough to go to the cop cops. He is so close. He just needs to get to his computer.

Kon, who hasn't spoken to Tim for weeks since the whole ordeal deepened, hears Tim's distress and appears just in time to stop the head shot that would kill Tim.

He sees Tim; writhing in pain, expensive suit bloody, shoulder pouring blood, ear ruined... A mess. In that moment, Kon sees what he's seen a million times before: another "baddie" (imagine any 90s action movie), who's been hoisted by their own petard. You know those baddies? The guys who end up dying gruesomely rather than give up their goal? But Kon feels gross that he could even think such a thing! Nevertheless, Kon still has this ugly feeling of abjection that he'd never had before.

But then he sees Tim's face. Tim is marvelling at Kon. He looks happy. His eyes are feverish and alight. Kon thinks for a moment, "This is my Tim. I knew he was still there."

But Tim is thinking, "I can still make it! I can still make it happen! Kon is here and he will help me!"

So, Tim says, "Super[whatever his name is by then]," desperation and hope in his eyes.

And Kon... He buys it. He sees all that hope in those blue eyes and he thinks, "He's come back to us."

But then Tim says, "You have to get me to the computer... I have to finish this. I have to finish them..." Maybe he's struggling to breathe, maybe there's blood on his teeth. "Please, please, I have to..."

Kon's face falls. He reaches down and gathers an increasingly weak and delirious Tim up in his arms. Tim is desperate. He knows that if he misses this chance, it–and he–is done.

Kon says, "Please don't struggle, Mr Wayne."

And as Kon carries Tim through the window, he sees Tim's eyes are still fixed–not on him–but on the silently blinking computer.

(Incidentally, this is why Tim reacts so viciously to Lonnie calling him Mr Wayne.)

.*Bruce is a problem I still have to take care of. Maybe he's started meditation since retiring and just peaces out of the mad affairs of his kids/proteges haha. A problem to be fixed were I to start the fic.

Thanks so much for the ask! <3

Also a thanks goes to @who-always-pays-their-taxes who was such an awesome support and cheerleader and co-screamed with me when I first shared the Kon element of the story. <3

[toomuchracket]

i know we've talked about jealous office nerd but what about girlie? like imagine they ran into his ex or a girl tried to flirt w him or smth

the girl who gets a trial week at the magazine before marianne decides if she wants to hire her - you're not particularly bothered initially when it transpires she's an art writer and thus will be in your and matty's department, but when she LATCHES onto your boyfriend and the questions go from "so is this word limit, like, set in stone? i just have so much to say" at the start of the week to "you know how i've written for frieze? well, i have an in at the team running the art fair, and i think you should come with me this weekend - they've given me a hotel suite we could stay in" at the end of the week... you can't even hear matty's reply from the desk across from yours because your rage is making the blood pump faster into your ears, and luke from film reviews just slides you a pack of cigs and whispers "i think you should maybe go and have one of these. you look murderous, mate" lmfao. but he doesn't have a light on him, so you actually do need to go up to matty and cut the girl off (while blatantly ignoring her) to say "matthew, i need to borrow your lighter" and respond "nope" when he offers to come for a cig too; you're not annoyed at him per se, other than the fact he hasn't told the girl he's with you (although tbf you don't tend to with new people for a minute, because you want to make the magazine seem strictly professional lmao), you just need to decompress alone. you do tell marianne what just happened, when you run into her on her way in, and she just rolls her eyes like "for fuck's sake. don't worry, her work's shit, we're not keeping her on. and don't worry about matty, either - he loves you, babe, and he's not about to throw that away for the frieze fucking art fair". she's right, of course - you don't know what he told the girl, but when you go back in matty moves to sit next to you and asks "can you take a look at this for me, please?", and on his laptop screen is a word doc saying "i love you. sorry about her. i didn't know how to nip her flirting in the bud without being a dick/ruining the professional relationship, and she took it too far. obv i'm not going with her to frieze (this year looks really shit anyway, would've taken you otherwise) and i told her the hotel room thing was inappropriate. and then i didn't hear any of what she said because i got distracted thinking about the inappropriate things we got up to in hotel rooms and also i booked a night away for us tonight so we can recreate them lol. but yes i love you so much xx". it's actually so cute, and you nod at him like "yeah. let me just..." and add a reply like "i love you too. just got a bit upset seeing her like that with you. but i'm sure you'll cheer me up at the hotel xo"; i mean, you do inadvertently end up edging him while you wank him off when you get there, just grumbling about the girl so much you stop moving ("'ohhhhh look at meeeee i've written for frieze ooh!!' i could fucking write for frieze if i wanted. she's not special" and matty's crying desperate to cum nodding like "you definitely could, baby, you're such a good writer FUCK please please just let me cum" lmfao), and while matty's fucking you you're giving it "nobody else feels as good as me, do they, baby? nobody else you wanna fuck, is that right? just me. you're mine, and i'm yours" and he's moaning into your mouth like "just you, only want you, only NEED you. love of my life". it turns a bit sweet at that point, honestly, murmured i love yous and kisses and all that, but it's still a dirty, dirty fuck that ends with cum in you and on you and matty practically passed out from how hard he went to prove you were the only one for him. kinda obsessed actually <3

[insertsomthinawesome]

Hi! Do you have any TWST friendship headcanons about the dormheads? They are definetely a chaotic friend group!

Also love your art! It's so pretty!!

OH ABSOLUTELY. First of all, Thank you so much!! THat makes me so happy to hear ;;v;; ONTO SHENANIGANS: A LOT if not pretty much all of this falls into non-canon-compliant territory, and I'm only partway through Book 5 so I could either totally guess soimething or completely mess something up, but here are my braincells

Vil and Leona: I LOVE these two. I think they have some of the most fantastic worstie to bestie potential. And in a weird way??? I think Vil is the kind of person Leona needs? Like, Vil can be a little too harsh, and in my personal opinion too much of a perfectionist (Not for the character tho, just if he was a real person xD As a character trait its 10/10 good writing) but the fact that he refuses to stop seeing the potential in Leona??? Thats something that I really think Leona NEEDS. People who are like "What are you talking about? You have the possibility to be so much if you just tried." Like that last part is harsh yeah, but I think Vil really has this... he has this Rook-like ability to believe in the potential of other people in a way that isn't actually as cynical as it comes across. If he learned to work more with Leona than against him, I actually think the two of them would have such a strong power duo potential.

Leona needs to see Vil for the Roses rather than the Thorns. He needs to see more of what Vil is SAYING, where he's coming from rather than just the words themselves. I think if Leona really comprehended how much Vil believed in him, like, ACTUALLY believed in him, i think he would be genuinely moved, genuinely shook and full of wonder that somebody saw so much potential in him, as so much more than being a failure or a freak.

However I think if they actually became friends Epel might have to take a week off for mourning because he could no longer go to Leona to escape the wrath of Vil xD

Idia and Malleus: Okay so starsending started me on this one, I think they would actually really vibe. Idia is an introverted Loner, he has a hard time with high energy people who make a lot of noise. Mallues CAN be a lot, but honestly he tends to... not be. Its more like the A Lot follows him. ei when he interacts with Yuu and essentially just ends up being a nerd. The specific image i've had in my head, is i feel like Idia could play animal crossing with Malleus watching him, and the two of them could vibe for H O U R S. Malleus would make the occasional comment or go on the occasional tangent, but he seems less like he needs people to engage with him sometimes, and sometimes just like he needs people to listen. And Idia isn't actually that bad at engaging with people!! He's got internet friends (lilia lol) which means he does know something about sustaining relationships and talking to people I also think that Malleus would probably find Idia's way of talking fascinating SLDFKJSDLGJSLDJG. As long as he wasn't mocked for not understanding, he'd probably find it downright interesting to listen to Idia explain internet memes from 2010 and talk about the history of Loss. I also think that Idia could really be a safe and quiet spot for malleus when things are hard. I feel like part of Malleus's frustrations, and why we see him run away from Sebek and Silver, despite both of them being family he obviously loves, is that, with the exception of Lilia, Both of them make a BIG DEAL out of things. Silver tends to be quieter and less explosive, but they both do. Sometimes I think Malleus just wants to be alone to process, or not be pestered or questioned. I think Idia could potentially be that safe and quiet spot where he's ready to listen, but not necessarily interested in making a big deal about it. If they became better friends he might not even ask, just offer quiet empathy.

Kalim and Leona: -Spoilers for Leona's Union bday card, since it hasn't released in English yet- OH BOY.... THESE TWO. First of all!!! ANother relationship that I think could do a lot of good for Leona??? Kalim doesn't really need him for anything, but he's a well of low expectation positivity, somebody who I can see dragging Leona out to do things, or even just, once in a while so honestly state the worth he sees in Leona that it causes Leona to stutter and pause. Like, Leona's union bday card mentioning that he'd have Kalim with him on a deserted Island cause people would come ot rescue Kalim....... O U CH??????? There's a running Narrative that Kalim doesn't really see the value in himself, and this would be another person (like Azul) who would contradict that. Leona sees a more cynical version of his value, but its still value all the same. And Leona likes to gripe and groan, but he's adopted like, half the characters who are younger than him, I don't think he's immune to Kalim Al-Asim at ALL. It doesn't help that Leona is already a Tsunderely doting uncle, I can see Kalim triggering the Uncle-Instincts in him sometimes... or a lot. The loud and upbeat disposition Similar to Cheka's wouldn't help. Specifically, because I've thought about these two being friends before, I've always loved this idea of a post book 4 sequence where Kalim like, kind wanders into the greenhouse to find somewhere to cry privately, but he runs into leona napping. Leona doesn't really want to deal with Kalim, so while he's blubbering through his explanation he's just like "Fine you can chill here as long as you're quiet" Kalim accepts... but Leona has beastman hearing, so even what might be considered reasonably quiet is loud to him, and he eventually caves and asks whats up. Just to get Kalim to shut up eventually. I think maybe I had a conclusion or an idea for what advice leona would give kalim, but I don't remember it at the moment, but yeah just. Them :) I think their dynamic could be really interesting.

Malleus and Leona: So ya'll who saw my whumptobers already know I have some bad braincells for these two clowns. I think they are jealous of each other, because they think the other has what they want, they think that they see the other squandering the gifts they've been given, being fools and idiots who don't appreciate what they have. Leona craves being accepted, having the crown, having the power to fix what he sees that is wrong, to actually have and impact in people's lives, to matter and to fit in. Malleus craves normality, he craves to be one of the masses, just another man among many, he doesn't wish for power, and he cares little for the catastrophic effect he can have on other people, he just wants to be invited. He just wants to be included. Leona sees Malleus as having the power to do what matters. Malleus sees Leona as having the gift of Normality and camaraderie. Ultimately they're both miserable where they're at (though not entirely. Leona loves his squad, Malleus loves his family, both of them have things they'd never dare give up.) and they think if they just had what the other had, they would achieve the things they deserve and desire. I think both of them would have to sort through a LOT of emotions if it ever clicked for them just how similar they are. They're of course seeing each other through rose colored glasses. Leona is not an everyman, he's feared by his own family, Malleus is not all powerful, he cannot stop the tick of death. Leona is persecuted for being "less than" his brother, Malleus is held so far above everybody else he can't be reached. This would take some time for both of them to process, but I think once they did there would be a chance for them to become good allies, and potentially even really good friends. THose are my main braincells!! I honestly think that making any of the dorm leaders interact is fantastic food for thought and relationship building. I would love to think over what it'd be like to grow a friendship between Azul and Riddle, or Vil and Malleus. Leona and Azul would be INCREDIBLE and fascinating!!! Like man, there's so much to work with in TWST. I realized this might be a little to the left of your question ^^;; Haha, If you were asking about more like, I guess lighearted headcanons, I'm not sure I have any yet!! But I'm sure with time I totally could :) Writing or playing with TWST characters intimidated me for a bit there, since the quality of the writing of the game was SO GOOD I felt there was no way I could do it justice. Now I feel a lot less intimidated, so i feel like I'm more likely to dig my hands into shenanigans and thoughts.

[pfaerie]

actually i'm spinning medieval au in my mind sorry i'm kind of obsessed actually

imagine johnny used to be the prince and y'know, like, his father probably died like when johnny was still a toddler or whatever and the kingdom (and i imagine that laura married below her station and it's her family's land and has been for generations) just runs out of money by the time he's 12 and laura remarries because she wants to ensure johnny won't be destitute and will still have a home

and it's fine for a while except it isn't and johnny never warms up to sid at all and hates him. through some blackmail fuckery i feel like johnny is threatened by sid and has to make a deal to not claim his throne or wouldn't it be a shame if something were to happen to laura (and i'm sure johnny takes it because all he cares about is his mom and he doesn't want her to live through anymore hardship)

he throws himself into his knight training and little else - doesn't care much about his education or status as a diplomat. the cobras dote on him as a posse of knights who took an oath would - act almost exactly the same as they did in the movie the just jingle when they walk. i feel like kreese is knight captain and wants johnny to take back his place on the throne - he has his own motives (something something terry silver warring kingdom

i think daniel would be part of a troupe and just tours around the kingdom and does performances wherever before laura takes a liking to him? and she hires him as a court jester? maybe even ali lives in the castle and is, y'know, betrothed to johnny and susan is her lady in waiting and ALI hires daniel for her amusement (partly because he annoys johnny and she likes to tease him - in this au, i think johnny and ali are Courting, but it's mostly a display - johnny doesn't want her that way, but he's expected to and it's better to just go along with it bc that's his duty - maybe he even takes some comfort in the fact they never will marry because of Sid)

and anyways, daniel is frustrating and cute and johnny can't help but watch his fingers as he plays the lute or juggles and he wants to shove him around bc that's the only way he can touch him and eventually johnny stops threatening him and listens to daniel practice in the courtyard (perhaps he gifts daniel with a genuine compliment or daniel plays one of his favorite tunes and johnny says as much to him or DANIEL catches johnny humming one of the tunes he's only ever played privately and his heart almost thumps out of his chest when he realizes the prince has a soft side)

i also simply have a soft spot for medieval/middle ages aus where one of them likes a bit of poetry about gays - like it's all dressed up in metaphor and maybe it's tragic and stuff, but gay resonates with gay. johnny telling daniel one of his favorites is that and daniel maybe hasn't heard of it and johnny lends him the book ("you know how to read right?" "YES I KNOW HOW TO READ ASSHOLE") and daniel Gets It immediately

and yknow they start fucking each other and maybe even daniel's writer's block finally goes away and he can finish writing that song he only ever plays in private...

[darkpoisonouslove]

I already mentioned that the final iteration of my latest video is actually version 3.8. Here's the (unfinished, raw and not-colored) ending of the original version inspired by this post, followed by trivia on the final version:

The idea was that Griffin knew the Trix were descendants of the Ancestral Witches and for some reason they were the only ones who could free Valtor. Once they stopped listening to her, she did everything she could to steer events in such a way that they would end up in Omega and free Valtor. However, the Trix, sensing that there's something Valtor is hiding from them, spy on his conversation with Griffin and attempt to gain control of him the same way that their ancestors were pulling his strings. Griffin ends up imprisoning them before they can despite Valtor's refusal to believe that they could pull it off since they're clearly unaware of who he is and what that entails for the power balance between them.

The reasons why I ultimately gave up on this were because a) it was overly convoluted and hard to convey, b) it actually doesn't make sense when you start examining the events and character motivations and c) it moves the focus away from the emotional mess between Griffin and Valtor. I am instead filing this idea away for potential future projects.

Version 2.0 was just an oversight on my end. I somehow forgot that in this AU Griffin only "betrayed" Valtor because the Ancestral Witches threatened her with harm coming to him. I had built this emotional arc about him refusing to trust her after her betrayal which just... doesn't make sense considering the reason why she left.

Thankfully, I did write notes on the story arc I had in mind and reading through them once I'd taken a step away from the project and my brain wasn't running in circles helped me notice my mistake. Which is how the latest direction for the storyline emerged from the clusterfuck of thoughts I had on this. After that I had to tweak certain moments here and there to make the story more coherent.

Now I'll share some thoughts and insights about the final video, this time using gifs instead of stills.

I decided that Griffin can see in Omega, yeah. She can take a page out of Faragonda's book and place a tracking spell on the Trix right before they were taken to Omega so she can see what they're up to in there. I originally hadn't thought of adding the effect to make it look as if the viewers are also looking through her seeing orb but then the revelation hit and here we are.

Idk, I just like how this works considering that it's just the same footage only played in reverse to make it look like she disappears and then reappears in a very quick succession. I used that trick towards the end of the video again when Valtor loses control of himself and starts slipping into his demon form.

I really have no idea what she expected. He has remained with the impression that she betrayed him and, furthermore, she wasn't the one to free him. She just chilled for 17 years while he was literally chilled in Omega. The fact is that she couldn't really free him because the Ancestral Witches took precautions when they forced her to leave by making sure that he will be as trapped as them if she tries something but the Trix being their descendants was enough to free him. However, she's not using her words (for concerns that end up being substantial and completely founded later on) so this was only ever going to go one way.

Sneak Faragonda attack! He did not expect her and Griffin didn't call her either. This part I feel doesn't come through clearly in the video (mainly because I still had no idea what I was doing here and then I had already blocked everything and I couldn't really change it). Valtor basically caught Griffin off guard but Faragonda showed up, having her back as always. Griffin's friendship with the Company was real but she was also very much using their resources to look for a way to free Valtor from the Ancestral Witches. Frankly, she hasn't figured out how she's supposed to balance her relationship with Valtor and her friendship with Faragonda and Saladin yet but she can do it! She will do it! Even Valtor won't manage to fuck this up for her, you'll see!

I am proud of managing this effect, simply. It's been a while since then (this really took forever to make) but I'm sure I tried at least 5 different things here and, believe it or not, this was actually kind of an accident. A lucky one, for certain! Also, Griffin finally figured out she might need to actually clue him in on the truth behind her actions.

Possibly my most favorite moment of the video? Top 3 at least! I would have loved to see some kind of interaction between Griffin and the Ancestral Witches (which is highly unrealistic but they also had the perfect chance for it in Magical Adventure since light magic was extinct and she's a witch, who used to be part of the Company? She should have been there along with Saladin and Hagen at least). Also, I colored the part where Belladonna threatens Valtor separately once before then coloring it along with the rest of the video in order to convey that it's a vision that they showed Griffin. Love the way he reacts to it as well!

He instantly decided that he now has to go and imprison her because she knows his weakness and is too dangerous to be left to her own devices. He's equally repulsed and tempted by the idea that she knows about his demon form. If she can accept him like that and still love him, well... Then he'd have no reason to doubt her ever again. But it's also humiliating that someone else would know about his... situation.

This time she takes a page out of Valtor's book and does his walking-through-walls trick. He really didn't expect that but he has to update his idea of her abilities. It has been 17 years, after all (not to mention that he's on her terf). I just love how he traps her and she escapes right under his nose only to proceed to attack him. She's sick of his bullshit.

My initial vision for this was different as I was considering showing Griffin falling (using the footage from 1x19 where she jumps off a ledge (completely needlessly, might I add) to save her students) but that wasn't going to work so eventually I settled on this. It works super well as a Valtor PoV sequence since he wouldn't see exactly what she's doing and I am quite proud of it!

Griffin is well and truly done with his shit here. She didn't go through all the trouble that dealing with his outbursts is only for him to not believe her feelings just because of his own hang-ups (about his demon form) rather than for any rational reason (she admits she's given him justification to doubt her). And she holds her ground when she catches a glimpse of his demon form, which she hadn't seen until now, but she is done trying to convince him if he will undermine them both on every step of the way.

This doesn't need much elaboration per se. Admittedly, he seems to be having mood swings in this part of the video but the truth is that he's decided to take her at her word that she wants to be with him again. If she steers off path once more, he has all the tools in his disposal to course-correct her. It'd be a waste to ignore how powerful she's grown, not to mention that she truly didn't bat an eye at the sight of his demon form. He's eager to explore the opportunities this situation has to offer so he admits he's willing to believe her if she's willing to prove her words by quitting her (completely deserved) attacks on him. (Who started this, Valtor???)

[sillyteenagegirlinlovewithblocks]

Being watched by a handsome stranger.

Vylad Ro’ Maeve x reader.

Cw. Stalking, mention of death, kiddnap, vylad has crush on reader and it makes him do crazy things.

( guys I wrote this like Two weeks ago but I didn’t wanna finish it and I finally did today so yayyyy. Also tell me if you wnat a part two were they get tg or something.)

After vylad was turned into a shadow knight. He often visited O’khasis, just to check on his mother and make sure Zane's cruel actions against him hadn't spread to their mother. Vylad has always had a hold on his emotions, even the night Zane killed him in their garden. He didn't freak out or try and run he just complied with the fact of what was about to happen.

One night on his way back from O’Khasis vylad decided to stop in a village nearby for a place to stay for the night. He's never stayed in this village before but he's seen it many times and has heard many things about this place. He knows this place is ruled by a woman named Nakianoi and that she is the oldest of her three siblings who she takes care of. But she's a dictator. Often she governs how much everyone makes and doesn't allow individual businesses in her village. He learned while staying the night there that they have a curfew and that he’s lucky he wasn’t spotted by the guards or he would have spent the night in jail.

Once it was morning he was about to leave but he remembered he needed an herb for a potion. So he made his way to the market. After getting all he needed he was walking through the market to leave but then his whole body was stopped causing him to drop what was in his hand. Y/n a young woman who looked around his age. 18 maybe 19. Is sitting on the floor right across from him.

“Oh no I am so sorry sir!” she apologized while picking up his herb bag to hand to him. In return, he stares at her for a moment then takes the bag out of her hand and gets up so fast it makes her flinch then he just walks away??? Without a word. After a moment of watching him walk away and disappear into the tree, she gets up and goes on with her day thinking about the weird occurrence ends up forgetting it after a day or two.

Now it’s been months since that occurrence and she hasn’t seen him since then.

“Y/n seems to love nature she loves to walk around the forest all alone with nobody around. Sometimes even at night, she wanders far from her village without a guard or even a friend. Alone. It worries me every night I watch her, following her I worry and I can't stop because she won't.” vylad thinks to himself from two trees away from the one y/n is leaning up against while writing in her book.

“ I've been watching her for months and this is all she does. She wonders and then sits a writes. Why can't she do this at home where she is safe? At first, I was drawn to her because she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I was just going to watch her until Gene called me back to the nether and then I would move on but I can't stop, she's just so reckless. His thought ended promptly when he heard a noise coming from behind her. He starts to get closer as stealthily as he can but he's panicking because she won't even look at the noise Noor flinch.

“ is this girl stupid “ he thinks to himself.

Finally what was lurking behind her emerged from the bushes revealing itself to be just a bunny, “it's just a bunny a small little bunny. No threat no harm.” he repeated to himself as if he were trying to comfort himself. Now he is still in the tree right above her and she still hasn't noticed him or the bunny that came from the bushes. This is the closest he's been to her since that day in the market. He feels so rude for how he reacted, he just got scared. Scared of how he didn't even notice her causing him to bump into her. Scared of how for a moment while on the ground with her the only thing he could think about was how gorgeous she was and how her voice was so enchanting and calming. He just couldn’t get it out of his head, she was like a songbird. Sometimes he would hear her hum to herself while walking. It was nostalgic.

Now that he’s standing over her he needs to adjust himself in a manner that allows him to see her face clearly after all that was why he did this in the first place. To watch as she lives her human life with her human expressions and human experience. Not because of envy that he doesn't get those experiences or to hurt her. He would never but now after getting to know her by watching her in a distance. Listening to the way she speaks and treats things around her, he would also never let anything hurt her.

But While adjusting a piece of bark fell from the tree and fell right on her. Yet she still didn't move or look. He finds this confusing how hasn't she noticed?

“Why hasn't she noticed? “

“I find it hard to believe. “ he thought to himself.

It’s hours after dark now practically the middle of the night and she still hasn’t gone home yet. He didn’t realize at first but she’s asleep?

“Out here all alone she chose to sleep?!?! What is the matter with this girl? Doesn’t she know there are thefts, men that could hurt her, and monsters in the shadows? There's one right here next to her “ he refers to himself.

But his mind lectures and fears are about to come true as he hears a group of men in the distance speaking to each other but he can't make out what they are saying. They are too far. So he gets closer.

“Tonight we take the village. Tomorrow we rule the village. The woman and the children “ what seems to be the group leader shouts to his group of men. The only village close to here and in their course of direction is y/n village.

“That must be where they're going.” vylad thinks to himself. “ I can't let her go back there if those men are going to try and take the place with force I presume. I also can't let them see her or they will take her “ he's not sure what to do but he needs to think fast because the men start to get on their horses and head towards the village. He gets back to her as quickly as he can and in this moment there is nothing else he can do except take her.

“ I can't leave this room, I can't stop watching her sleep. I'm anxiously waiting for when she wakes up. She's going to be very upset, maybe she will scream at me she has every reason to. I kidnapped her. Even though it was done to protect her she doesn't know that. I should keep my distance when she wakes up and sees a strange man standing above her I’m certain she will freak out. Why would I do this I could have minded my business. Been half way around the world but I’m wasting my time with this girl. Just cause she makes me feel this pit in my stomach. Maybe she spelled me I mean all of this is unlike me.” He pasted back and forth.

After maybe ten minutes of him pasting he hears a Russell in the bed as she moves around. And moans slightly assuming it’s because she’s comfortable.

“ she’s starting to wake up” he panics he doesn’t know what to do now that she’s waking up. Maybe he will scream he’s so nervous. She sits up and looks around slowly but then she sets her eyes on vylad.

“ um hello “ she says softy.

“ hello “ he says back. She bites her lips and continues to look around for a second then looks back at him with a confused expression.

“ why am I here ? “ she says weirdly calm as if she didn’t just get kidnapped.

“ well you fell asleep in the woods and then then men were on there way to attack your village so I brought you here so they wouldn’t get to you” he answers. She nods her head gently and stands up.

“ so do you think they succeeded?” She asks.

“ I’m not certain. There was word of there attack this morning rumored in the village but just that not whether they achieved there goal. “ she nods again in agreement to his words.

“ well then I can’t go back “ she smiles.

He’s confused why she would be happy about this. What about her sister or her people?.

“ I’m sorry about that. I’m sure whatever home you choose with be just as good as the one you had before” he sympathize.

“ better I hope. I’m very sad at the life’s that could have been lost or what is happening there but I would have rather been dead then to stay under my sisters dictatorship much longer. I wasn’t aloud to be a person because it made her jealous but now I hope her peace in her fate and freedom in mine.” She explains.

“ thank you for saving me sir, please let me repay you in some way” she suggested.

“ no it is alright miss I don’t need anything for saving you. Your life is payment enough” he denied her request. With a smile on her face she gets closer to him.

“ well thank you “ she says while looking deeply into his eyes. But then she squints.

“ do I know you from somewhere else ? “ she asks.

“ no I don’t think so ma’am. “ lied.

“ mhm I feel like I do” she observes him more closely but he quickly turns away.

“ I need to go now but I hope you get the freedom you wanted.” He says as he walks out the door leaving her to her new life.

“ oh bye “ she says but he’s already gone.

“Until we meet again “

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Lovers & Friends (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Keigo Takami x Black!Fem!Reader (Friends to Lovers)

Synopsis: In which you and Keigo have begun to realize the strange new feelings you both have for each other after one drunken night at a close friend’s wedding that ends with you in his bed, but because of your longtime friendship and committed relationships with other people, you’re more than happy to forget that night even happened and keep your mutual feelings in the dark…for now, at least. 

Story Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY); Cheating/Infidelity; Mating; Light Degradation; Spanking; Exhibitionism; Multiple Positions; Creampie; Unprotected PIV Sex; Facials; Scent Play; Marking; Spitting; Deepthroating; Cunnilingus; Begging; Edgeplay; Power Play; Daddy Kink; Some Angst; Hurt/Comfort; Mild Violence

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic (except for Rei and Haruko). However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: AO3 is down & supposedly leading people to a scammy site looking to steal personal info, so for now, these 2 chapters are staying on Tumblr until further notice. It's ALWAYS something, I s2g. -Jazz

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Bonus Chapter.

Read on AO3 here!

************

Chapter Six: Sex on the Beach.

Keigo swears your ass has never looked better than it does in your perfect, little peach-colored dress. 

He would be lying if he said he hasn't been watching the damn thing bounce and jump beneath your sundress ever since you hit the dance floor. Rumi continuously hyping you up doesn’t make it any better. “Yeeeesss, Y/N!” she screams over the music, just as drunk as you are. “Fuck it uuuuup!” 

You are happy to do so, bending your knees even more and tossing ass like it’s no one’s business. Keigo does his best to not stare, instead trying to focus on the other drunk guests who are worse off with their dance moves.

However, a certain someone doesn’t allow him to do so when he walks up next to him with a low whistle. “Looks like someone is feeling the champagne,” Fatgum chuckles, holding a whiskey glass in his hand. 

“Shit, she’s been feelin’ it for hours now,” Keigo sighs as he and Fatgum watch you buss it to the music, your braids in your face and drink in your hand.

You’ve gathered the eyes of a few men since your second mimosa, including the staff, the DJ, and a few pros who don’t know what’s good for them. They only stopped when Keigo looked at them like he had a Glock in his suit pocket for them if they kept eyeing his friend down. 

He supposes that he should take the blame for your carefreeness though. He loves seeing you completely free of all your worries, especially about your asshole boyfriend.

But he also knows drunk you can get into some trouble. He remembers that one Halloween when you got so drunk at Nemuri’s masquerade party that you nearly made out with someone you thought was Rei wearing the same colored mask. Or that time Dabi whipped you up his own cocktail and had you skinny-dipping in Keigo’s pool. 

He’s had his own fair share of embarrassing, drunk stories though. And plus, seeing you throwing ass and laughing your pretty laugh is much better than seeing you down in the dumps for Rei.

Keigo knew for a fact that the dickhead made you cry earlier. You would’ve never ventured away from the wedding if he hadn’t. Keigo knows you like he knows his favorite book, which means patron shots were definitely the way to ease your broken heart. 

He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t tell you to run the story back for him. He just wanted to see you smile and enjoy today…only those patron shots turned into a chocolate martini and two glasses of mimosas hours later.

He knows he’ll have to scrape you up off the floor later, but if he is forced to do that, plus curb the hard-on struggling against his suit slacks as he watches you dance, he’ll do that. After all, you deserve to be happy. 

He decides to attempt to distract himself again by turning to Fatgum, averting his eyes from the arousing scene. “So how’s it feel to be a married man now?” he asks, nodding at Fathom’s wedding band. “Do you feel any differently?” 

Fatgum looks at him with a happy gleam in his eye. “To be honest with you, Hawks, not really,” he sheepishly replies. "It feels great to finally be married to the one I love more than anyone in this world, but the way I feel for Haruko wouldn’t have changed even without a ring.”

He looks down at his wedding band, a small, adoring smile on his lips. “I guess I thought a ring would’ve made it more real, you know?” 

Keigo doesn’t know. He couldn’t think of knowing…at least that’s what he tells himself. However, the image of you in a wedding dress walking down the aisle is a little too vivid for him. The only one he’s ever loved is you, but none of that could ever see the light of day. It’d ruin everything.

So he gives Fatgum a smile and pretends that he knows exactly what he’s talking about. “Well, if you ask me, it looked real from the very start,” he chuckles. 

Fatgum gives him a grateful smile, a twinkle in his eye. Keigo envies him. How would it feel to feel so deeply about someone who feels the same about you so openly?

Fatgum and Haruko looked so in love today. Every time they looked at each other, even when the other wasn’t looking, Keigo saw nothing but acceptance, adoration, and pure love. It is hard not to be jealous of such a thing. 

“Girls, girls!” Yu suddenly hollers, red in the face and obviously gone off the champagne. She runs onto the dance floor towards you and Rumi, her overexcited behavior causing you to stop dancing. ”Haruko is about to throw the bouquet!”

Keigo looks towards where Yu is pointing and surely enough, Haruko is standing near the snack table where a crowd of women have begun to surround her, just as excited. Something about seeing Haruko, so happy and giggly, in her wedding dress and Fatgum smiling at her with such love in his eyes does something to Keigo.

Fatgum’s haunting words from his bachelor party come back to him, rising out of the fog in his tipsy mind: ’Those bachelor days won’t last forever…’ 

Keigo clears his throat, knowing now is the right time to bare himself to his friend. He turns to him, forcing his wings to not tremble. “Hey, listen; I’m sorry for what happened at your bachelor party…you know, when we were playing pool at the bar. I didn’t–” 

“Stop.” Fatgum’s voice is firm but not unkind. He gives Keigo a reassuring smile, the sunset in his eyes. “You have nothing to apologize for, Hawks. You have your opinion and I’ve got mine. I’m just glad you’re here and showed up for me as my best man.” He pats Keigo on the shoulder with his big hand. “When Y/N comes down off her high, thank her for coming too.” 

“You’re leaving?” Keigo curiously asks. Fatgum gives him a mischievous smirk. “After Haruko throws the bouquet and I get my hands on that garter, hell yeah. Speaking of which…”

He pulls on Keigo’s arm, walking him farther away from the crowd that has begun to grow around Haruko. “You might wanna stand back.” 

Keigo is glad Fatgum saved him because he definitely would’ve gotten trampled by the slew of screaming guests wanting their chance at catching Haruko’s bouquet.

Among them are you, Nemuri, Yu, and Rumi, excitedly jumping up and down as Haruko turns around to toss the bouquet of flowers behind her. As soon as they go flying, the crowd reacts, jumping as high as they can to catch it.

You prove to be victorious when the bouquet tumbles in the middle of the crowd and you snatch it up, nearly losing a shoe. “I’ve got it, I’ve got it!” you practically scream, excitedly jumping up and down.

While half of the guests applaud you and the others give you dirty looks, Keigo silently stares at you with the bouquet in your hands. That image of you gliding down the aisle in your wedding dress comes back to him again like a nagging mosquito, pestering him further.

What bothers him even more is the look he’s picturing on your face: so full of love; a mirror of Fatgum’s expression when he looked at Haruko walking down the aisle. It is so vivid that it frightens him. 

“Keigo?” a small voice asks behind him.

The man nearly has a heart attack when he turns around and sees Sakura standing there. He realizes that Fatgum is gone and the bouquet crowd has dispersed, leaving him standing there like an idiot staring at you. God, he's down bad.

“Hey, babe, you’re up!” he chirps, moving to kiss Sakura’s forehead which he notices feels heated and clammy. “Everything alright?” 

Sakura had been sleeping in one of the extra tents for the majority of the wedding after her third glass of champagne. Keigo figured he’d just let her rest while he acted a fool for the rest of the event until it ended.

“I feel awful,” she groans, putting a hand on her stomach. “My nap was interrupted by my stomach. That lobster I ate must not be settling right.”

Keigo’s brain pedals back to Sakura’s plate which consisted of a side salad, pasta, and lobster meat slathered in butter and lemon. “Aw, shit, babe,” he coos empathetically. He moves toward her, wanting to gather her up in a hug. “I’m so-“ 

“Keigo!” Rumi shouts, from the dance floor. She has an empty glass in her hand and is barefoot. “They’re playing your song!”

The song in question is from Rihanna’s ANTI album and the way he watches you twirl your ass and hips around makes him love it even more. His eyes flick back to Sakura’s, feeling horribly guilty and disgusted with himself. He shouldn’t be gawking at a whole other woman, especially his best friend. 

Sakura gives him a reassuring smile, nudging him towards the dance floor. “Go on and have fun. I’ll be fine.” But he refuses, shaking his head. “You won’t be fine to me until I know you’re home safe,” he firmly says, already taking her hand to lead her to the parking lot. “Here, I’ll drive you home. It’s no problem.” 

“But you’re still having fun here,” she protests, slipping her hand out of his grasp. “Don’t let me ruin tonight for you just because I’m feeling sick, Keigo. Seriously, go have fun. I’ll call you when I get in the Uber I’m gonna order.” 

The sound of your high-pitched laugh drifts in the air, making Keigo’s heart pick up speed. Though Sakura is giving him permission to go and have fun, he’d feel even more like a horrible person and boyfriend if he were to listen to her.

“Nah, fuck that,” he huffs stubbornly. As a waitress walks by with a tray of plates and glasses, he snatches up a water bottle and hands it to Sakura. “Stay here for a minute and drink that.” 

He doesn’t wait for Sakura to agree or protest before rushing over to the dance floor where his four friends are still acting up. “Hey, you crackheads gonna leave soon so the cleaning crew can do their job?” he hollers.

You pout at him cutely, a glass in one hand and Haruko’s bouquet in the other. “But the music is still going!” you whine in protest. 

“Only ‘cause you’re still here, baby bird. All four of you.” He nods at you, Rumi, Nemuri, and Yu–all equally as drunk and in need of sleep. “The reception is over anyway. Haven’t you noticed the dance floor emptying out or were you too busy tossin’ out your best stripper moves?” 

You begin to look around in a daze, realizing that the staff is cleaning up and guests are beginning to head to the parking lot. Rumi giggles, nudging her hip with yours. “The birdie’s right, y’all. I noticed the place has been getting kinda dry ever since the cake was sliced and the bouquet was thrown.” 

“Which I’ve still got!” you proudly yell, waving the flowers around. “Which means I’m gonna eventually find a love that I’ll marry and the rest of you single bitches can kiss my black ass.”

You take a handful of your ass in your dress and squeeze it, making the girls giggle and Keigo want to kill himself. Why the fuck do you have to be so goddamn fine? 

“So what do we do now?” Rumi asks. “Just go home and wallow in our depression?” 

“That could be an option,” Keigo chuckles, “but I was suggesting we take this party somewhere else. Preferably a nightclub downtown. Anybody down?”

Your entire face changes as you gape at him at the sound of more partying. “Yes!” you excitedly shout, jumping up and down with your bouquet. “I need to shake my ass some more!” 

Nemuri sighs tiredly, her arms wrapped around Yu’s waist. “As much as I’d love to join, but I need to get this one home.” She smiles at Yu who looks like she’s about to drop, her head against Nemuri’s shoulder. “Plus, I’m in need of my beauty sleep,” she yawns, putting a dainty hand to her open mouth. 

“And I’m in need of finally getting my hands on that guitarist,” Rumi purrs, eyeing the same short-haired, Amazonian woman with the perky ass and dark skin she’s been lying up all day who is currently packing her electric guitar away with the wedding band.

“Say no more,” Keigo snickers. “Guess this is where we say goodnight, ladies?” Nemuri blows him a kiss while Rumi gives him a tight hug. “Try not to get in too much trouble, okay?” she laughs with a wink.

She turns to you, pointing a finger at you. “And you…be careful with that bouquet.” That obviously means for you to be on your best behavior too. You just giggle which gives Keigo the impression that you’ll be doing none of that. 

Once the crew finally disbands for the evening, you come walking up to him, stumbling a bit as you do. Instantly, he grabs your arm and hooks it through his to steady you. He doesn’t need you falling and busting up your (pretty) face. “Soooo when we goin’?” you cutely ask, a small hiccup in your voice. 

“Lemme drive Sakura home and I can drive us there afterward.” He doesn’t say anything else as he escorts you over to Sakura who is still standing in the same spot he left her in. “Got somebody carpooling with us, babe!” he cheerfully states, walking you over to Sakura. She smiles at you, sipping on an ice-cold Ginger Ale can that he definitely didn’t give her. “Where’d you get that Ginger Ale?” he curiously asks. 

“Oh, your friend gave it to me,” she happily replies. “Snipe!” She points over to the snack table where guests are busy stuffing their takeout containers full of leftovers. Sure enough, pro hero Snipe is over there, wearing his mask and a cowboy hat with his navy blue wedding suit, stuffing a container full of shrimp. 

Keigo bites the inside of his cheek, wondering if he should say something. He’s never had an issue with Snipe and this could’ve been purely innocent, but why he decided to talk to his girlfriend now while he wasn’t with her doesn’t rub him the right way. “C’mon, you two,” he grumbles, wrapping his arms around you and Sakura and quickly escorting you away from the wedding. 

The ride to Sakura’s apartment is surprisingly smooth and quick despite it being a Friday night. When he rolls up to her building and parks, he tells you to stay up and walks Sakura up to the steps to the lobby door despite her protests. He stays at the bottom steps, watching over her as she digs into her clutch for her keys. “You sure you’re okay with gettin’ inside?” he worriedly asks.

She looks down at him, the soft glow of the apartment building lights illuminating her pink hair and eyes. I’m perfectly okay with unlocking my own door, babe,” she giggles. “Now go shake your tail feather with Y/N.” 

He cracks a smile at her little joke and gives her a kiss on the cheek before she walks into the lobby. “Call me if you need anything, alright?” he calls after her, only to get a wave in response. When she finally disappears inside the building, he walks back to his car and slips into the driver’s seat.

You’re sitting in the passenger’s seat, feet up on the dashboard, and chomping down on leftover wedding cake. “She okay?” you ask, looking concerned. 

Keigo nods, strapping himself in. “Just a stomach bug; nothing to worry your drunk ass about. All you need to worry about is havin’ some fun with your very best friend.” He pokes at your forehead and laughs when you swat at him. 

“So where are we goin’ anyway?” you curiously ask, a small, excitable smile adoring your glossy, plump lips.

Keigo just grins at you before starting the car. 

************

When Keigo finally pulls up to his favorite downtown nightclub, the place is completely packed. 

Clubhouse, one of Keigo's favorite nightclubs, is one of the most high-end places that Musutafu has to offer. Located in a five-star hotel, it comes with the best customer and bottle services, great music, and security guards who take the privacy of pro heroes very seriously, as does the manager.

Keigo knows the guy. He had saved his life after a couple of stupid kids tried to rob the joint a year ago. Since then, he gets free bottle service and a free hotel room if he doesn't feel like flying or driving home after a nightly romp. 

He has spent a few nights at the five-star hotel he pulls up to…okay, maybe more than a few. He’s told you many of these stories that ended in drunk sex and waking up in a hotel suite, not remembering much that happened that night before. You also know he enjoys this spot over others because of the infinity pool they have on the rooftop that you have yet to take a dip in.

Hopefully, tonight, once the liquor starts talking, that will change. 

The club is jumping once Keigo parks in the valet and escorts you inside the five-star hotel. Stretching over three stories high with balconies, stairways upstairs to the bars, and crystal chandeliers, he can see bodies from head to toe. Shadows dance on the walls, illuminated by the strobe lights flashing in time with the pop music blasting from overhead.

He can feel his heart pound and his stomach jump excitedly with the vibrations of the music and the sparklers he sees bottle girls carry with them on trays of the most expensive vodka for parties of four and five.

He is completely in his element while, unbeknownst to him, you feel out of place. “Okaaay, birdie,” he whistles, an easy smile on his face. “So we’re here…now what?”

He turns to you, noticing the frown on your face. “I have no idea,” you admit sheepishly. “It’s like now that I’m sobering up, I’m less hype to be here.” 

Keigo tuts disappointedly, taking your hand in his and ignoring the way his body sings at your touch. “That ain’t no good. Come on.”

He escorts you through the throng of bodies, ignoring the folks who gape and gawk at him. The most he’s gotten here are people begging for pictures and autographs, plus the occasional groupie. But other than that, he’s never had any trouble here. He knew it was the perfect place to bring you to get over your heartbreak. 

He leads you over to the bar and settles down next to you in a booth. “Bartender!” he hollers, waving him over.

The young man turns to him, looking bored out of his mind before he gets a look at Keigo’s face. “Yeah, it’s me, Hawks pro hero number two, nice to meet ya.” He flashes him a big, gigawatt grin. “Listen, can I get a round of tequila shots?” 

The bartender vigorously nods. “And for your girlfriend, sir?” he curiously asks. Keigo almost asks the guy what the hell he’s talking about until he realizes that he means you.

You stare at each other, both shocked. “O-Oh, no, we’re not…” You trail off, your words dying in the tense air around you. Keigo can’t speak, his mouth too dry to do so. “H-He’s just my friend,” you softly stammer. “Just a Sex on the Beach for me.” 

He tries not to let on how much that stung him: he’s just my friend. But that’s what he is, isn’t he? That’s what he's always been.

You go to take out your wallet, but like the good friend he is, he pushes your hand away. “Uh-uh, put it back,” he sternly says. “Your date just left you at a wedding, baby bird. The least I can do is pay for your drink.” 

He pulls out fifty and hands it to the bartender who hurries to get your orders. “I still can’t believe he did that,” you sigh, disheartened. “All I wanted was to try and spice things up for us sexually, and…” You put a hand to your chin, staring off into the distance, your mind somewhere else. 

“So what exactly happened?” he softly asks, trying to pull you back to reality. With him. “If you feel like talking, that is.” 

You surprisingly budge. “I asked Rumi for advice on how to make our sex better, so she suggested either spicing things up with some kinks I enjoy or talking to him about what I like.”

You cross your gorgeous legs on the stool and Keigo has to force himself to keep his eyes firmly on yours. “I’d figured a quickie would’ve been fun, but he wasn’t with it, and my drunk ass took that as an insult, so I asked for a break.” 

“Did you break up with him?” he asks, hoping to God you’ll say yes. Only because Red is such a dickhead. You look away, staring instead at the polished mahogany of the bar. “Not…technically…” 

Keigo scowls at your cryptic answer. “Da fuck’s that mean?” he scoffs, confused. You flush under the strobe lights, tapping your acrylic nails against the bar. “I asked for a break at least until the Gala since he’s so hellbent on getting his award. I didn’t want to distract him from his work.” 

“Distract him?” he parrots, the words tasting sour to him. “Y/N, if he barely has time for you because he’s too busy trying to win a fuckin’ award, then he has no busy dating you, period. He doesn’t even realize what he’s got.”

You smile shyly at his words, but he is being deadass with you. He could’ve shaken you right then. Why don't you understand how special you are?

“So now you’re single…for now, at least?” he questions, doing his best to not sound hopeful or completely interested in your dating life. Your shoulders slump as you cup your cheek in your hand, your pretty lips pouting. “I guess so. Maybe I should just get like Rumi and just sleep with whoever for the hell of it.” 

He smacks the bar, encouraging your sexual liberation. “That’s the spirit!” he encourages. The bartender returns with your drink and the round of tequila shots. “Oh, look; your drink! Be careful with this one. It’s fruity and sweet so you may wanna drink it less like it’s water.”

You do so, sipping slowly on your Sex on the Beach. As soon as the liquid hits your tongue, your eyes adorably widen. “Mmm!” you hum, eyes blown and face written in joy. “Holy fuck, this is amazing!”

You wave down the bartender, animately waving your arm around. “Bartender, gimme another one of these!” Keigo stares at you, doing his best to hold back a grin. “What?” you scoff. “I’m single and sad, okay? Let me have fun!” 

He raises his hands in defense. “I didn’t say anything,” he snickers. He then passes you a shot glass and picks up his own, raising it. “To complicated relationships.”

You nod, giggling tipsily. “And fuck love!” you shout before downing your shot. Keigo does the same, downing his shot and letting the tequila burn his throat before he sucks on the lime it comes with. 

For the next hour, you’re downing shots and sipping on your two Sex on the Beaches like it’s no one’s business.

Of course, Keigo makes sure you take a couple sips of water in between your alcohol splurging, but even he is starting to feel the buzz of the tequila as he gives you side glances here and there, checking you out. Your legs and chest are starting to look way too good, and his cock agrees–he’s been trying to curb the boner he is sporting for the past hour now. 

When you start to feel real good and loose, one of your favorite 2000s Rihanna songs starts playing from overhead, and the vibe in the club completely shifts. You gasp happily, hopping off of your stool. “Oooh, this is my shit!” you squeal, already moving onto the dance floor. “Kei, come dance with me!”

You grab his hand and try to pull him over to the dancing bodies on the floor, but he barely budges. “Nah, but I’ll watch in case I need to drag you out of there.” 

You pout but wave him off and go off to dance alone. He watches you walk away from the sidelines, drinking in how your ass sways and bounces as you strut. When you start to dance, he just about has a heart attack. He can’t keep his eyes off of your hips, legs, or the curve of your back. Not to mention the way you bounce and twirl that ass of yours.

He inhales deeply, doing his best to keep calm, but it feels as if he’s about to explode. How dare you be so fucking sexy? What the fuck is your problem? 

He is so thankful when his phone vibrates in his pocket because he can’t promise he wouldn’t have tried to jump you on the dance floor. He slides his phone out of his pocket and grins at the caller ID, answering it without a second thought. “Well, I didn’t think I’d hear your lovely voice tonight,” he cheerfully says, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Now you got somethin’ to nut to later,” Dabi chuckles in his gravelly, deep tone. “I’ve been told my voice is a panty dropper.” 

“Well, for the chicks who dig chain smokers, sure,” Keigo wittily replies, earning a guttural laugh from Dabi in response. “What are you callin’ me for? You got your perks back?” 

“For my free days, no, and they cut my phone calls short since they’re still investigating that riot.” Dabi sighs, evidentially frustrated. “I got about ten minutes left. You still at the wedding? Where’s Y/N and Rumi at?” 

Keigo turns to you, ignoring the way you swirl your hips or how you’d look on top of him. “Y/N, it’s Dabi on the phone!” he calls to you over the music before speaking to Dabi again. “We left and we’re at a club. Rumi couldn’t hang, so it’s just me and Y/N.” 

You skip over to him, your gorgeous titties bouncing and braids swaying down your back. “Dabi!” you scream into the phone, no doubt taking Dabi’s eardrum out. “Oh, my God, Dabi, I miss you soooo much! You’re such a dick for not bein’ here!” 

“Jesus, girl, you’ve been drinking?” Dabi questions. Keigo pictures him rubbing at his ear that you just screamed into.

You giggle hysterically, nodding despite him not being able to see you. “Yes, sir! Since the reception ended!” When the music transitions to Beyoncé’s Virgo’s Groove, you just about have a heart attack. “Kei, you have to dance with me! They’re playing Renaissance tracks!” You tug on his arm to no avail before running back to the floor like a fire lit under your ass. 

“She’s on the dance floor now,” Keigo sighs. “The girl is a fuckin’ wreck tonight.”

Dabi chuckles into the phone. “I’m guessing things didn’t go well with the bum she’s been laggin’ around?” It isn’t a secret that Dabi hates Rei’s guts too; he’s just more open about it because Dabi doesn’t give a fuck. 

“I’ll let her tell you, but to put it bluntly, yeah,” Keigo replies. “So now she’s here, single with her back and legs out.”

That back where he’d love to run his tongue down your spine, caressing the soft skin that contrasts with his own. And those legs that he wants wrapped tight around his waist as he strokes the gummy walls of your pussy, pushing you further into euphoria until you explode all over him. 

Dabi snorts to himself, finding Keigo’s dilemma funny. “So which do you want?” he asks. “The back or the legs?”

Keigo blushes red, glad for the dimness of the club. “Shut up,” he growls. “You know I’m seeing someone right now.”

Dabi scoffs at this, calling it bullshit as he usually does. “Someone you barely talk about and that I’m sure you barely think about. When the fuck are you gonna bite the bullet and stop beating around the bush with her, man?” 

Keigo pinches the bridge of his nose. He didn’t want a lecture. Not right now. “Dabi, you know better than anyone why I can’t do that. We’ve been friends since middle school. I can’t just tell her all of that shit. Plus, Y/N is in a vulnerable space right now. I’m just here to comfort her.”

He would never forgive himself if he let his dirty thoughts make a horrible decision for him and possibly ruin your friendship. 

He looks at you now to ensure you’re okay, but is utterly confused and alarmed to find someone from the crowd watching you too. He wears a button-down that is way too tight for him and stands a good foot taller than Keigo. His eyes are lecherous and greedy as he watches you move to the music like water, your moves effortless and enchanting.

“Kei, you there?” Dabi asks. “Bitch, you’d better not have hung up on me.” 

Keigo doesn’t answer, too hyper-focused on the wolf stalking its prey. That prey being you, his beautiful best friend. Once he sees him move through the throng of people to get you, Keigo is bothered. "Hold up, Dabs. I’ve gotta go.” 

“Someone’s tryna shoot their shot at her, aren’t they?” Dabi asks, not even needing any confirmation. He just knows Keigo like that. “Send a picture to me when you’re done with ‘em.”

Keigo hangs up without replying and immediately stalks onto the dance floor. As he does, he watches the stranger brush your waist much to Keigo’s dislike. You jump and turn to him, looking alarmed despite his big grin. Your mouth moves to say something, probably a polite decline to his offer, but the stranger continues to push and even takes your hand in his. 

Keigo is seeing red. How dare he touch you? When he is finally a foot away from you, he starts to hear your conversation in full. “C’mon, baby, what’s the problem?” the stranger asks, still wearing that stupid, predatory smile. “You’ve been dancing like you need something in you anyway!”

You glare at his nasty words, your hand balling into a fist. “I told you I’m not interested,” you snarl at him, yanking your hand free. “Leave me alone.” 

The fucker still doesn’t take that as an answer and continues to bother you, and Keigo. “Can’t I just get one dance?” he asks. He even pushes up on you, trying to take your hand again.

You’ve just about had it and roughly shove him back away from you. “I said leave me alone, asshole!” you snap at him, alarming the rest of the club hoppers surrounding you. The man’s face is written in annoyance before it morphs into a rage that is only caused by rejection. 

There is no doubt in Keigo’s mind that this man will possibly hurt you. He steps in before he can be proven right. “Hey,” he sternly says, his tone on the edge of a warning. He wedges himself between you and the man, his wings blocking you from his angered view. “She said to leave her alone. I suggest you listen.” 

The man’s eyes widen in recognition and then he begins to laugh. “You’re with him? Hawks?” He says it like he can’t believe it, even laughing to himself. “Shit, I didn’t know you were his already!” he guffaws despite your discomfort.

He goes to pat Keigo on the arm but Keigo dodges his touch. “Hey, man, you’ve got a loyal bitch on your arm. You really must be paying good for that pussy.” 

That’s all it takes for Keigo to lose his cool. All self-control begins to unravel and he feels himself shifting from the cool, calm, and collected Hawks into someone else. Someone who is less willing to reason or let things go.

His wings, glowing crimson red in the strobe lights, puff up and ruffle as if someone is running their hands through them and his eyes go dark.

You, the asshole, and every single witness surrounding him react with shared alarm, realizing that what may take place on the dance floor tonight won’t be a friendly dance battle. 

Keigo begins to close the gap between himself and the man until their noses are nearly brushing. The man is too afraid to move.

“Listen, dickhead,” he growls, his voice dangerously low. “you caught me on a good night since a friend of mine just got married, but lemme give you some advice: you shouldn’t talk like that about people you don’t know, especially women. You best realize who the fuck you’re talking to.”

His feathers ruffle once more, making the man flinch. “I think you need to leave ‘cause you’re startin’ to really piss me off,” he whispers sinisterly. 

Before the man can reply, Keigo moves away and takes your hand in his, about to whisk you away from the BS. Whether he felt embarrassed and is trying to save face, or because he likes ruffling Keigo's feathers, the asshole speaks again.

“I can see why you went for her in the first place,” he cackles. “I’d kill to take that body home with me.” 

Keigo stops, his body tense. Your hand grips his and he looks down at you, seeing how big your eyes are. ‘Don’t,’ they read.

He is willing to listen and let this shit go for you...until the dickhead opens his mouth yet again. “Just don’t let her out of your sight!” the man yells. "Bitches like her always go for the next dick.” 

Then all Keigo sees is red like a bull and goes haywire. He zooms past everyone and everything at the speed of light and is on top of the man immediately. The crowd shouts in shock and disperses as he lays one fist after another in the man's face, drawing blood from his lips and mouth.

“Keigo!” you shout, your voice high and shrill with fear. “Keigo, stop it!” 

He ignores you, too focused on making the man feel pain for the nasty things he said. For being disrespectful. “I just said to watch your fuckin’ mouth,” he snarls through gritted teeth. “You know who the fuck you’re talkin’ to? That’s my fuckin’ friend, you stupid bitch.”

His voice is low––lower than he’s ever heard it before. He doesn’t think he has ever been this angered before at anyone. But this asshole crossed the line. He doesn’t play about any of his friends, but especially you. You’re different. 

His fist continues to collide with the man’s nose again and again until he hears a crunching nose followed by a gurgle of pain. Blood splatters onto Keigo’s shirt but he doesn’t care.

He can’t stop even if he wants to. It’s like a blood-thirsty switch has flipped inside of him.

He suddenly feels your hands on his shoulders, yanking on him tightly. “Keigo, please stop!” you beg, trying in vain to pull him off. “Stop! You’re gonna kill him!” 

“What’s going on here?” a booming voice demands. Keigo is suddenly yanked off of the bloodied man by two large hands belonging to a security guard. He scowls at the asshole and Keigo, looking pissed that he has been bothered with this.

Keigo yanks himself out of his grasp and takes your side. “This prick was harassing my friend after she told him to leave her alone,” he growls, still staring at the asshole like he wasn’t finished with his face…and he wasn’t. 

Though the man is bleeding profusely from his nose and his busted lip, and his eyes are completely swollen, the guard is taking no mercy on anyone. “She can stay,” he says, nodding at you before scowling at Keigo and the man. “But you’re both gonna have to leave.” 

The man gapes at the guard, anger written across his busted face. “But he–”

Before he can protest, the guard takes hold of him and practically drags him towards the exit. “Hey!” he shouts. “Get off of me! I have rights!”

His shouts fade into the music as he is swallowed by the crowd that now stares in utter shock at Keigo. His anger has now faded, replaced with a feeling of discomfort and exhaustion at being around so many people. 

He turns to you, grabbing your hand. “Come on,” he whispers, already pulling you off the dance floor and towards one of the exits. He pushes it open, leading you two out into the side valet where he is sure his car is. He lets out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding as he presses his back against the club wall, letting the cool air caress his sweaty skin.

“A-Are you okay?” you suddenly softly stammer, as if afraid to speak. 

Realizing what just happened, he quickly returns his attention to you and ensures himself of your safety. “I should be askin’ you that,” he replies worriedly. “You alright? He didn’t hurt you?” You quickly shake your head, still looking shaken by the whole ordeal. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I almost lost it there.” 

Actually, he did lose it completely, but he didn’t kill the guy, thank God. He takes his hands in yours, squeezing them. “I just care a lot about you,” he softly confesses, not sure why he says it so secretively and blushes when he does.

Immediately, he releases your hands and adverts his gaze though you continue to stare at him. He feels as if you’re staring straight through him into his soul, examining all of his secrets and words left unsaid. 

“Kei…” Your words are soft, your name no more than a whisper on your lips. Keigo tenses, afraid of what may come next. However, nothing could possibly prepare him for what comes out of your pretty mouth next. 

You stand in the moonlight, looking like a damn Goddess that he almost forgets you’re you–his very best friend. “Do you wanna come swimming with me?” you softly ask, your words nearly getting swallowed up by the muffled music and Friday night traffic. 

But Keigo hears you loud and clear. And unbeknownst to you, you could’ve asked him to go to the goddamn moon with you, and he’d say yes. 

[acourtofthought]

My friend is an E/riel and she sent me a TikTok video about the theory that Elucien’s mating bond is fake because of the similarities it has with *TOG spoilers* rowan’s first mating bond.

What I don’t understand is why do they think SJM would do the same story again? It even has similar characters and I do give it to them that a lot of the language used is similar to Elucien, but I just dont understand why/for what reason SJM would copy and paste a story she has already written and explored.

Also, we really don’t have anyone in Acotar that would be obviously benefiting from the fake bond, like in TOG. I think this are just E/riels trying to grab into anything they can.

It disturbed me, what do you think?

Hi @bettdraws!!

It's interesting because I personally see no similarities between Rowan's fake bond and it's setup and Elucien's bond, E/riels just want there to be so it frees Elain up to have her one "real" bond with Az.

Maeve tricked Rowan into thinking he was Lyria's mate so that he would fall in love with Lyria and once Maeve orchestrated her death in order to break him, she trapped Rowan into swearing fealty to her. Then when Aelin was eventually born, Maeve had Rowan as a bargaining chip to force Aelin to do what she wanted.

If Elucien's bond is fake in order to keep Elain away from her true mate or use her real mate against her then hasn't that plan backfired? Elain and Lucien haven't been tricked into falling in love so it's not like their bond is forcing them to do something they wouldn't normally do, Elain is currently paying more attention to Az and Lucien is living with Vassa. So.......what exactly is the benefit to a a fake Elucien bond?

Rowan once said this of his bond with Aelin:

[Part of him had known that Aelin was his mate. And had turned away from that knowledge, again and again, out of respect for Lyria, out of terror for what it'd meant.]

"out of respect for Lyria, out of terror for what it'd meant". Doesn't that sound a lot like how Lucien was feeling about Jesminda in his POV (when Feyre slipped into his mind)? How Feyre notes he hasn't tried to bridge the gap in the novella?

Lucien is fully aware that Elain is his mate but his struggle comes from the knowledge that he believed for centuries that Jesminda was his mate, that she lost her life for loving him and that he'd never emotionally moved beyond that because of the guilt and sorrow of that loss. If Lucien was ready to run right into Elain's arms (regardless of what his instincts are telling him to do), that means he'd have to come to terms with the fact that Jesminda probably lost her life for nothing. If he had met Elain while Jesminda was alive, he may have given things a shot with Elain and Jesminda may have never been murdered because of him. There is probably a very big part of Lucien that feels he doesn't deserve to have his mate because Jesminda will never have the opportunity to have that happiness and it could cause some of his reluctance to try and connect with Elain (despite longing for her).

It also doesn't make sense for SJM to write a story where he was convinced Jesminda was his mate for centuries....only to reveal in book 2 that Elain is his actual mate.....only to reveal 3 books later that neither Jesminda OR Elain were his mates....he's got a third person being added into the mix!

E/riels try to pile so many tropes onto Elain and Lucien when they already have a super angsty setup (mating bond snaps into place while he thought he had a mate and lost her and she was currently engaged to and in love with someone else). That's a big story on all it's own but instead they want to tack on fake bond, rejected bond, etc on top of it. It's extremely unnecessary.

Rowan said this of Aelin (his real mate):

He'd leapt in front of her at Skull's Bay knowing it, deep down. Knowing mates aware of the bond could not bear to harm each other.

Lucien said this of Elain:

"I would never hurt her." A bleak sort of honesty in his words.

Aelin had known, though. That he was her mate. And she had not pushed it, or demanded he face it / because she'd rather carve out her own heart than cause him pain or distress.

That sounds a lot like Lucien right now doesn't it? He knows Elain is his mate not forcing her to demand she face it, he's not pushing her to give an answer, he's basically letting his own heart be ripped out so that she can take the time she needs.

Maeve said this of Rowan's fake bond:

"It was so easy to tug on the right psychic thread that day"

Feyre said this of her bond with Rhys:

I was pulled from sleep by something tugging at my middle, a thread deep inside."

Elain and Lucien said this of their bond:

"Like you pulled on thread tied to a rib."

"There's a bond - it's a real thread"

Psychic thread (mental) is not the same as the physical thread Feyre, Elain, and Lucien felt.

Also, we never met Lyria so finding out Rowan had a fake mating bond with her doesn't impact the reader, she's not anyone the readers connected with.

Elain and Lucien have been on page since book 1 so their story does impact readers.

Having the author tell us that Elucien's bond is fake after 2.5 books would be along the lines of the question someone asked her about Danika in her last live interview.

Someone asked if she was really dead and SJM said that yes, she is dead. That to have her come back to life would minimize the suffering that Bryce has been through because of losing her.

We don't know Elain's thoughts but the bond clearly affects her. She wasn't eating, drinking, or sleeping for weeks / months until Lucien arrived at the HOW. Within 2 days she came out of her room for the first time. She knew who he was and could hear his heart (not just his heartbeat). A day after she began eating, drinking, sleeping again.

She left her room to stand at the top of the stairs as Lucien left for the Human Lands, not saying anything but taking a step towards him after he turned away. She invited him back to Velaris after the war then suddenly freaked out and stopped talking to him.

With Lucien, we KNOW he's affected. He left his home to make sure she was safe. He traveled through Autumn without his magic, risking his life to make sure she was safe. He entered what he thought was enemy territory in the NC, where the most powerful High Lord in Prythian history lived (a HL who allowed others to believe he tortured and was cruel) to make sure she was safe. He spent weeks devastated to see her despair, how thin she was, thinking of ways he could help her. He went on a dangerous mission by himself to support her vision. He fought in the war then RAN from the shore to make sure she wasn't harmed. SJM had Lucien get to know her father before his death. She has Lucien still longing for Elain 2 years after their bond snapped despite living with Vassa and Jurian.

Having their bond revealed as fake would completely diminish how much Lucien has been through for Elain and the struggles Elain has been dealing with as a result of the bond snapping (I mean, one of the reasons her fiance no longer wanted her was because she had a mate). Of course neither Elain or Lucien have been truly ready to get to know one another for about a hundred reasons and that's ok (I'd rather see that in their book) but I think people forget what a huge storyline this has been for not only Elain and Lucien but everyone else as well. The sisters worrying about what the death of Lucien could do to Elain after he left for the continent, Rhys and Feyre using Elain as a pawn (Feyre's words) in order to gain Lucien's cooperation, Nesta going from screaming at Lucien and pushing him as he held Elain in his arms to her finally beginning to accept him, calling Elain a wretch for sitting far away from him, and making conversation with him in SF.

I think if E/riels would read the book out of the E/riel moments, they would realize that the Elucien setup has been one of the major storylines from book 2 (way more page time given to it than any setup that was given for E/riel) and understand why it makes absolutely no sense for it to be fake.

[rethomida]

Rubric: "In this essay I will ..."

So I was scrolling Reddit reading some discussions about “Hannibal” and characters in general, and I was flagger bashed by the comments about Clarice.

“If you enjoy the powerful portrayal of Starling, then I strongly recommend you stay away from the sequel, "Hannibal". The ending in particular goes so much against Starling's character, and is so far out of line with the way she's been portrayed, that you will be horribly disappointed.”

Well, where to start. First of all, I don’t really have anything against the commentator, plus I actually think we share one vision in common. Clarice really changes in the “ Hannibal”, but I think that it is fair to point out that It's been seven years since the previous book, “TSOTL”.

We as humans are constantly changing and not standing still; it's only natural that Clarice is no longer the familiar character from the last book. She grows as she should ? 😅

Second thing that confuses me is the remark about Starling not being “powerful” anymore.

My question is, what is powerful?

It seems that everyone already has an idea of how her life should have turned out, and when their expectations do not coincide with reality it is a reason to say that there is something wrong with her, that she has become a weakling.

If we follow this author's logical chain, then if Clarice had stayed in the FBI and not run off with Hannibal, she would have stayed strong that way.

I honestly don't see the point of it. It seems to me that in this way she would only please others, including some readers, but certainly not herself.

For me she is a deep character, with her problems and feelings and I can find logic in her actions, but all in order:

Generally at the end of Silence of the Lambs I think the future looked promising. Clarice caught and neutralised Buffalo Bill while still at the academy and saved the Senator's daughter! What an incredible career awaits her?!

But in the next book, we're faced with reality. It's been seven years, but Clarice still hasn't joined Crawford's department. If my memory serves me correctly, in the first book he himself said that usually before joining his department, there should be about seven years of practice. But given the fact that Starling solved a problem that no one else in his team could, there's got to be some sort of grace, right?

In fact there was no grace at all.

We see that no one really appreciates Clarice, quite the opposite.

And I'm not even talking about Krendler now, and how easy it was to set her up and how no one but Jack tried to do anything about it.

At the very beginning of the third book,during the operation when she kills five people and Evelda Drumgo, who apparently first pointed a gun at her, everyone was well aware of the circumstances, that the principle of "you or them" applies. But Clarice was still a scapegoat, despite her reputation and her loyalty to the FBI. I realise it was all in the papers, but I don't believe anything could have been done. But it has shown one more time how undervalued she was.

Also, I'm of the opinion that for her, her work was a cage. It wasn't some sort of vocation or soul work. We all know (as does Starling herself at the end of the book) that Clarice did it all to make her father proud, and to silence the lambs, of course.

So given all of the above, I want to summarise that for me the outcome of the book was not the destruction of Starling's character, quite the opposite.

I believe it was a release from a burden she had been carrying for too long. It gave her a chance to start living, for herself.

P.s and I don't think I need to remind you the way Hannibal treats our special agent.)

Write your opinions in the comments if you have any!<3

Also,I want to thank anyone who responded to my previous post, I don’t I would write this one,if it weren’t for you❤️‍🔥

[olsenmyolsen]

Three Weeks

Part 26 of On The Inside With Elizabeth Olsen

Word Count: ~6K

masterlist

Liz POV

It's been three weeks since Y/N left. Three weeks since I've spoken to my sister Mary-Kate and three weeks since speaking to Y/N's mother. I wish I could say that all of this was easy or made better due to the fact that I'm actively trying to live a life that doesn't involve me missing Y/N, but it sucks.

This is one of the hardest things I've had to do.

But here I am, waking up in my bedroom alone and sad, for you guessed it, the third week in a row. I think I've slowly morphed into my Character Leigh Shaw. That's who I am now.

A cold, depressed bitch missing her love and looking for answers.

Anywho, I did some of the cliche break-up things you're supposed to do! I cried while watching Rom-Coms and eating ice cream. I dyed my hair! Goodbye, dirty blonde, and hello, brunette Lizzie. I made sure to tell my friends that I was doing better when in reality, I was not.

Scarlett and Aubrey were quick to see through that shit.

That led to a very passive-aggressive forced lunch with a seven-month pregnant Scarlett and her daughter Rose who very sweetly had no clue what was going on. Colin was set to join, but I'm certain Scar made him stay home.

On the other hand, Aubrey called me out on everything once I spilled it all. But she wasn't as upset with me as other people had been. But she made sure that when I'm in LA that I stay with her since Robbie is still occupying our/my house. I told her that wouldn't be necessary since I have other friends and family to stay with but saying no to Aubrey is weirdly tricky.

Also, I took a page out of Y/N's book. Literally. I started writing. Okay, not like writing writing like Y/N but writing my thoughts and what I want to say the next to I see my Coffee Girl. I have a pile of envelopes ready to go. Each one is different but laced with love. They constantly stay in my purse. I'm afraid I'll lose them otherwise.

I know I haven't talked to her since, but.. this hasn't stopped me from trying. No calls, just texts every once in a while. Letting her know that I'm thinking about her and her safety. I know she's doing okay, thanks to certain people, but I can't wait to see that smile shine on her face whether I'm an inch away or thousands of miles.

I yawn and get the sleep out of my eyes before making my way into the kitchen. I haven't been eating the best or a lot lately, so maybe making a big breakfast will help today. It didn't help last week, but I can try again.

Waffles. Eggs. Cut up fresh fruit from my rooftop garden.

This is what I ended up making, and to my surprise and delight, I ended up eating a good majority of it. I compost what I don't eat because I'm not sure when I'm returning.

Oh, did I not mention? I'm flying to Los Angeles today.

I still have a couple of hours until my flight, and I packed last night, so I might as well water and say goodbye to my plants before making one final trip to Y/N's apartment.

Y/N POV

Today of all days, I have to wake up feeling like I got hit by a train.

Everything hurts. My head is pounding like a hammer. My nose is stuffed but also running. Every time I try to clear my throat, it feels like tiny needles are being dragged down my esophagus. This is awful. I knew something was happening, but I blamed it on allergies. I should've known when Nick said, "it's just a cough," he was lying. It's never just a cough. If he wasn't one of the nicest men I've ever met, I'd be so pissed at him.

Speaking of Nick. Since the last time he confided in me that he has feelings for my mom, nothing has changed. My mom knows but doesn't want to pursue a relationship. I understand her completely. I'm not saying I want to see her and Nick be together, especially since no one can replace Davey.

I know Nick wouldn't be, but that doesn't make it easier. But my mom and him have a perfect friendship right now. At the drop of a hat, they're there for each other. Wait-

What's that ringing?

I turn my head as I get pulled from my thoughts. I reach over and answer my phone with a scratchy throat.

"Hello?"

"Pumpkin? Are you alright? You sound terrible." Thanks, mom.

"I think Nick got me sick." My mom groans into the phone. "I told him to rest and that we'd have dinner together next time you visit, but no, he had to make a home-cooked meal for you."

That's sweet. I smile through the pain as she continues her rant. "He's just like your father at times, I swear." My mom laughs at her own words. I don't think she fully realized she just compared Nick to Davey, but I let it slide.

"Yeah.. so why'd you call mom?"

"Just wanted to make sure you'd be up and ready for today." I pull my phone away and see I still have a couple of hours until my flight.

Oh, did I not mention? I'm flying to Los Angeles today.

"Yeah, I packed last night. Remember one big suitcase." I try to stifle a groan as I sit up. But my sickness and back have other plans for me. If one thing is for sure, I can't wait to never sleep on an air mattress again.

"Oh, that's right! I'm sorry I can't see you off."

I roll my eyes, knowing how busy my mom is and that no matter what she says, she wants to keep me here. She practically didn't let me go last night after dinner.

"I know, mom. It's alright."

"Whose picking you up from the airport?" Oh, that's right, I forgot to tell my mom. "James. Max's brother."

My mom accepts the answer and starts telling me about how her morning has been so far while I fumble my way into the bathroom and begin searching through every drawer, looking for cold & flu medicine.

"What's that racket?"

Apparently, I was not as quiet as I thought. "Where's the medicine? I searched everywhere." I ask through a cough.

"Bottom drawer. Behind the green bag." I search precisely where my mom said, and she was exactly right. How do mothers do that? "Be sure to take some ibuprofen two hours from now as well."

"Okay, mom." I throw back the pills before scooping some water from the tap into my hand, drinking like a sick animal.

"Be sure to eat something too." My mom adds, but all I want to do is curl up on the couch and die. "Mom, I'm no-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence Y/N Y/L/N."

"Yes, ma'am." Great, now I'm in the kitchen.

"Oh, before I let you go, dear, what are your plans for your birthday?" Oh shit. My birthday is coming up. "No plans," I say, closing the fridge door with a shrug earning a sigh from my mom on the other end.

"Okay, let me know if you want to come back home for that."

I doubt it.

"Okay, mom. I'll keep you posted."

"Thank you, Y/N. Now I love you. Be sure to eat something and text me once you're on your way to the airport." I nod my head. "I will, mom. I love you too. Okay. Bye."

I end the call and throw my body onto the couch. I try to fight it, but before I know it, my eyes close, and I'm asleep.

Liz POV

They fixed the elevator.

The moving steel box's doors slide open as I reach my designated floor. Y/N's floor. With an envelope in one hand and her key in the other, I make my way to the door. I know she's not here. But a part of me still hopes I'll be in for a surprise when this door swings open.

And she's not here. In fact, the place is almost in the exact same position it was when I left it. Except it looks cleaner? Wait? Has someone been here? I take a couple of steps into the place and do what you're not supposed to do in every horror movie ever. "Hello?" I call into the quiet apartment.

I get no response.

Not fully trusting this situation, I close the door behind me and quickly search the place. It isn't until I find myself in Y/N's kitchen that I find a note stuck onto the fridge.

Hey Oslen,

Knowing you, you'll be back to Y/N's place more than once. But just in case I was wrong (I'm not), I went ahead and cleaned out her refrigerator and tidied up the place. You never know when she might come back, right? Plus, we can't have the place smelling like an old, run-down dumpster.

Anyways I'm sorry I haven't reached back out to you. But I'm happy to know that it looks like Y/N's case is finally on track to be over. Perks of having one of the hottest and best lawyers. ;)

Text me when you see this. And as far as I know. She's safe.

With care, Max

I fold up the piece of paper and place it into my back pocket but not before shooting a text to Max, letting her know that I saw her message and that I'm happy she's safe.

Reminding myself that I have my own piece of myself to share with Y/N. I take the envelope in my hand and walk it over to the coffee table. I hope she sees it. Maybe not tomorrow but some day.

After combing over the living room, I make my way into Y/N's bedroom. Knowing that there's not a murder in the building, I can actually look around to see the improvements Max made. Like for example, not more shirts on the floor. Instead, most of them are folded up on the bed or tossed onto hangers.

My hand immediately gravitated to one of the most recent pairs of shirts she wore. Yes, the pink-fonted Elizabeth Olsen picture collage shirt. I unfold the shirt and bring it up to my face. It still smells like her, but it's not as strong... I have to stop the pout from forming on my face. I've done it like crazy lately. I look back down at the shirt and start to get lost in a train of thought. Without another second, I find a small duffel bag and begin filling it with some shirts knowing that if I wear them out, I'll get seen. And if I get caught, they'll be posted everywhere. Everywhere- for one's woman's eyes to see.

_

"How did you get more bags?" My driver Mr. Bronson jokes as he takes them from me to place into the truck with my other luggage. "Technically, the one is a guitar case." This earns a sarcastic oooh from him.

I felt a little.. weird taking Y/N's old guitar, but it feels right at the same time. Plus, I keep remembering the texts Sam showed me from Y/N.

If you don't hear from me in the next couple of weeks, just know that I'm fine. Feel free to come to my place tomorrow. (Address) Take what you want.

Also, I don't want this guitar of hers to become lost or thrown out by mistake, and I've been itching to relearn to play.

"Ready?" Mr. Bronson pulls me from my thoughts. I quickly nod as the car slowly pulls away from the curb. I take one final look behind me to see Y/N's place become smaller.

Y/N POV

"Okay what about this." (Video attached)

That's more what I'm thinking.. but faster and don't be afraid to make it more Appalachian.

Y/N It's your song why don't you just record it.

Robbie, first off it's our song and I don't exactly have my guitar with me.. also the lyric is "I only want to be in the passing lane" Not "fastest lane."

Shit. You're right. This will be much easier when you're here.

Couple of hours. Thanks again. I know I've said it a million times but thank you

I should be the one thanking you. But fr stop it. We're helping each other. Also I'm just glad we're past the awkward stage. It's not everyday two exs become friends.(?)

Writing partners *

Writing partners

"Earth to Y/N."

I lift my head from my phone, confused, which wasn't the brightest idea. My head is still killing me. The pills are helping but not as much as I want them to. "What?" I ask whoever is begging for my attention as I close my eyes and rub my forehead.

"Just wanted to know if you needed any help with your bags. You okay?" A male voice speaks.

I pull my eyes over to the voice. It's Nick. He's standing in front of the now-closed front door. How long has he been here? Shit what time is it?

I quickly panic and look at the time displayed on my phone.

Whew. I still have some hours till my flight takes off. But that means we should be leaving soon. Airports are always an annoying hassle.

"Y/N?" Nick's voice is now softer as he sits down on the couch next to me. "You okay, kid?" I take a deep breath and try and clear my painful throat.

"Yeah."

I guess I didn't do a good enough job at the throat-clearing. Nick's face remains unchanged, but his eyes are filled with worry and guilt. He knows I'm sick. And he gave me his cold.

"Did you take medicine?" I gently nod, not wanting to hurt myself more.

"Anything you need?"

"I'm fine." Me saying that and looking "fine" are two different things, but I hate being sick, so dwelling on it makes it worse. Plus, Nick and I are becoming closer. In fact, anytime my mom was at work, and if he had time, we'd hang out. It didn't involve much. Sometimes it was just watching tv or grabbing lunch, but it formed this weird bond between us. Maybe I remind him of his late son, or perhaps he is just a good man. Or, who knows, maybe he's showing me he can be... something more. I don't know. What I do know is that I don't want him to be worrying about me right now. I got enough going on.

Nick looks at me uncertain but doesn't push it. "Are you all packed?"

"Yeah, I did it after dinner." Nick nods his head as he gets up to go to the kitchen. "Tea?" He asks without turning his back.

"Yes, please."

Liz POV

Paparazzi present as always.

They're lining up at the entrance to the airport, just alive and waiting. I guess word got around. I was showing up. I mean, it makes sense the paps would want a good photo of me. I've barely left my place the last couple of weeks so getting a picture of me "out of my cave" makes people go crazy.

"Mr. Bronson?" I ask while keeping my attention on the picture takers outside. "Could you help me with my bags?"

"Of course." I turn to see him already looking at me with a smile. "Hat and sunglasses on." He reminds me. "Ready?" I nod once I'm "disguised."

"Ready."

"Let's go." Mr. Bronson steps out of the car and opens the truck grabbing all my bags placing them on the floor before closing up the trunk. He comes around to my side of the vehicle and sets something next to the door. Before I can think about what it is, he opens the door reminding me to "keep your head down." I nod to him as he places the guitar case in my hand. "Might help." He adds.

It surprisingly works a little. As we walked by the paparazzi, far fewer pictures than usual were taken of me. The ones that knew who I was knew. The others, I think, were taking a gamble and thought I was some indie singer or something. Regardless. I'm here inside the busy airport, from one anxiety-filled thing to another.

Mr. Bronson left shortly once we made it inside. I thanked him profusely, which he, of course, shrugged off. All he told me was to "go get her." I guess he thinks I'm chasing after Y/N.

Speaking of...

I'm now sitting down, opening our very one-sided text conversation. I scroll back up to the last couple of texts she sent me. They make me smile. This was back before the ignored calls. Back before I screwed it up. Back before, I lost the one real thing I've ever known. I remember it.

"Excuse me?"

I quickly close and fumble to put my phone away at a quiet voice speaking to me. I look up through my sunglasses to see a girl. She must be 14 or so. How'd she get into this airport lounge? Doesn't she need to have a credit card and be a member or something? Oh God, is she lost?

I can feel my nerves begin to overtake me. Deep breaths, Lizzie.

"Excuse me?" The girl speaks to me again. Shit, I should probably say something.

"Hello." I give a smile as the girl's face lights up from me just speaking. "Oh my God, It's really you! I wasn't 100% sure. I was going to be mortified if it was someone else." I giggle, calming down a bit at the girl's tone and evident nervousness.

"What's your name?" The girl smiles again before it looks like she's trying to remember her own name. Oh gosh, seeing fans get like this makes me feel a little bad. I don't want them to get too stressed or nervous just from meeting another human being.

"Geneva."

I say the name back to myself internally before gesturing to the seat next to me since Geneva was just hunched over in front of me. "Are you sure?" She looks at me with such worry, but I motion again. "Please. It's okay." Geneva nods before taking the seat next to me. She looks like she wants to say a million things, but at the same time, she's too star-struck to do anything. I got time to kill, and I haven't really been talking to many people as of late, so I'll start.

"Geneva?" The girl turns to me- jaw dropped. "You said my name." I nod. "I did. Can I ask you a question?"

"Anything." She replies quicker than I would've hoped for.

"How'd you know it was me? And where did you see me from?"

Geneva points to her head. Leaving me a little confused. "Your cap." I lift my hand up to touch it. My LA Dodgers Cap? "It's like your calling card. You rep it more than any other celebrity. It's basically your own merch." She tells me with a smile. Huh, I mean, I guess I did buy Y/N her own cap for a reason.

I do wear it a lot, don't I?

"I literally bought one because of you. Oh, and I saw you from... over... there!" I follow where Geneva's finger is pointing. In the distance is an older man watching, waving at our interaction. So that's how she got in here. "That's my dad. I tried explaining who you were and why I was freaking out, but he didn't get it. I hope I'm not bothering you." Geneva quickly adds that last sentence in.

"Not at all. I was getting lost in my own world, so I'm happy you stepped over here." I tell her honestly. "Okay, good." Geneva appears to take a deep breath and relax a little after hearing that. I know that feeling all too well.

"So, where are you going?" I turn my body slightly towards Geneva, so she knows she has my attention.

"My dad and I are going to Oregon for a week."

"That should be fun." I instantly encourage the idea seeing that Geneva looks nervous. "I hope so. I don't like flying."

"That's okay." I go to say something else, but I see Geneva's wandering eyes look over my carry-on purse. "Where are you going?"

"Home." I point to my cap with a slight smile. Geneva slowly nods her head. "Filming?" I shake my head. "Not for a while."

"I loved WandaVision. I think it made Wanda my favorite." She mumbles that last part, but I heard her. "Oh?! Well, thank you, Geneva, but who was your favorite?"

"Bucky and Black Widow," Geneva replies, almost scared that she had another favorite before me. She knows I'm not the Scarlet Witch, right? I subtly laugh at her responses. "Those are cool characters. One is way cooler than the other."

"And hotter!" Geneva replies casually before realizing I'm not one of her teenage friends. She looks at me wide-eyed. "I-uh-I didn't- I'm sorry- don't tell Sca-" "It's okay. Your secrets are safe with me." Geneva still looks a little panicked, and it reminds me of the talks Y/N and I would have about her love of Black Widow.

I will say Geneva and Y/N are right. She is hot.

"Can I say something?" Geneva breaks the awkward yet comfortable silence that is building up in this loud airport. I gesture for her to keep going.

"I'm really sorry for how it happened, but knowing that one of my favorite superheroes or anti-hero or whatever you wanna call Wanda now was being played by someone who is a lot more like me than I thought was important."

This is a conversation that Marla and Rhonda told me that needed to happen. I have yet to publicly confirm that, yes, I am a part of a certain community now. All that's been said is that Robbie and I were no longer together and that I was seeing someone named Y/N Y/L/N—so hearing from a girl who can't even drive yet that I mean this much to her. It makes my heart warm up and break at the same time. I feel ecstatic that I can now be someone for people to look up to, but at the same time, I haven't done enough.

This needs to change.

I look over to Geneva.

"As I said, I'm sorry for how it happened, but you and your girlfriend look really cute together."

Girlfriend. I quickly use my acting skills and cover up and frown or look that suggests otherwise.

"Thank you very much, Geneva! Yes, we are cute, aren't we." I chuckle at the same time she does. "And I still look at Wanda as a hero, so you can too." I nudge Geneva.

Geneva looks down as her phone lights up. I didn't even realize she had it in her hands. "Oh, looks like we're about to board." Geneva looks up at me. "If it's not too much trouble, could I get a picture?" This child is so kind.

"Of course." I quickly take off my sunglasses as Geneva has the camera ready. I lean in close to Geneva, but not enough, so we're touching. "I won't take too many."

"I think a couple will be fine." I calmly but sternly tell her.

"Okay. One.. two.. three.. GAY!" My smile quickly morphs into a laugh that I cover worth my hand. I was not expecting the girl to say this. While laughing, another picture gets taken. "I can't believe I made Elizabeth Olsen laugh!" Geneva says a bit too loud for my liking reminding myself where we are.

It looks like we're done with the photos, so I quickly take the time to cover my face back up. "Thank you so much. Omg, this is the greatest thing I've ever taken."Geneva shows me, and it's a typical one, and then Geneva smiling as I'm dying of laughter. "I'm glad to be a part of it." In the distance, I see Geneva's dad making his way over here. I guess they're running a little late now.

"Thank you again! This means so much to me." I smile. "Me too." Geneva starts to walk away, but I stop her. "Geneva!" She quickly turns back. "Yes?!"

How do I say this?

"Do you mind waiting until tomorrow to post that picture? If you do it now.. the paparazzi will be worse in Los Angeles." Geneva thinks about my words. "Sure. I don't want it to be worse for you." I graciously nod. "Thank you very much."

"Of course, Lizzie. Happy Pride Month." Geneva waves at me before walking to her now crossed arm dad.

It is the start of pride month.

I quickly pull out my phone, exiting my text conversation with Y/N and opening the one with Marla and Rhonda.

"An interview needs to be made today. People need to know who I am."

Y/N POV

The ride to the airport was uneventful. Aside from the occasional small talk and "I'm sorry for getting you sick" from Nick, nothing happened.

Now we're inching the car closer to the departure zone.

"Hey, kid?" When he first started calling me that, I thought it would go away because of how annoying it was, but it didn't, and I've grown to like it.

"Hmm?" I turn to face Nick as his eyes are watching the cars in front of us.

"Is the reason you left New York waiting for you in LA?"

"No," I say without another thought to the question or to the pain in my throat.

"Do you want them to be?"

I purse my lips and think. I don't know.. I've been avoiding Elizabeth for weeks but saying that I don't want to see her at all would be a complete lie because I miss her. I truly do. For the past couple of nights, I've been having dreams and nightmares about her. Maybe that's what's making my move to LA easier.

"I don't know," I whisper my answer out as Nick nods his head and drops the subject.

"You know, getting to know you these past couple of weeks has been wonderful. I'm happy to know Laurie has such an amazing daughter." The car has now reached my drop-off area. I turn to the older gentleman next to me.

"It's been a pleasure getting to know you too, Nickolas." Nick smiles but rolls his eyes at the awkward way I say his name causing me to laugh, which I regret doing as my warm throat starts fighting me.

"Need help with your bag?" I shake my head no, but Nick is already out of the car, opening the trunk for me. Once I'm about, he's already wheeling my suitcase to me. "Text your mother when you land. She'll be worried sick otherwise."

"I will."

Without thinking, I wrap my arms around Nick and hug him. I feel Nick hesitate before doing the same. It didn't last long, but it was nice. "Thanks again for everything." "Sorry for getting you sick, kid." Now I roll my eyes. "It's alright. I'll see you, Nick." I turn around and start walking to the airport doors.

"Wait!" I turn around to see the car window rolled down with Nick leaning over the passenger seat. "Don't forget to check your bag! You're flying to LA; who knows what someone might do if it's left in the overhead bin." I shake my head at him like he's crazy until I remembered the conversation over dinner last night.

"Literally pee all over my luggage. Someone left their child's toilet up in the top, and during take-off, it flew to the back, smacking everyone's precious cargo." (A/N this story happened on a podcast I used to listen to)

My face morphs in disgust. I shoot Nick a thumbs up as he laughs at my face. "So long, kid!" And with that, I turn back around and head straight towards my airline's desk. Ready to check this bag.

_

Okay, so that took longer than I thought it would. Of course, it's the beginning of summer, and this place is packed. What was I thinking? Now I'm sprinting, yes, sprinting to my gate! Mind you; I'm still feeling terrible!

It's like a scene out of a movie. I make it to my gate just as the last couple of people are shuffling on. The ticket on my phone goes through, and now I can finally breathe! I follow the people onto the plane, double-checking that I have everything. Phone? Obviously. AirPods? Duh. Cards and ID? Front pocket because what if my bag gets lost because I listened to Nick? Okay, time to find my seat and get rid of this headache.

I picked the worst day to fly.

_

Does anyone watch the stewardess do the safety instructions in case something happens and you need to step up, or is this just my anxiety making me watch them?

Anyways I feel relieved once they finish up. The person next to me couldn't give a shit. They were on their phone the whole time, and let me tell you, they were getting screamed at by someone through text.

Which weirdly reminds me.

I open my phone. I never finished my conversation with Robbie.

wasn't ignoring you just got on the plane. I'll text you when I land.

After a couple of minutes, Robbie responds.

No sweat I started taking a crack at that other song All Eyes On Me. Are you sure this is suited for me?

Moody indie? Uh yeah dude.

🙄 Saving it for when you get here. have a safe flight.

👍🏼

I exit that conversation, and I'm surprised to see a text from Max I don't remember getting.

"Elizabeth stopped by your place again. I think it might be for the last time. She's leaving ny."

Oh wow. Trying to copy me, Olsen?

I'm trying to formulate a sentence to type back, but I get interrupted when the mean stewardess tells me to put all electronic devices on airplane mode.

I'll just text Maxine back later. As of right now, though, I think it's time to pull out my AirPods, put on a relaxing playlist and tune out that crying baby five rows ahead of me.

Liz POV

Even in first class, I'm nervous. I don't know what it is today, but my nerves are doubled. Ever since we touched down in my home state, I've had this weird feeling.

Was I wrong to leave? Is it wrong to come back home? I should've apologized and seen my sister before leaving. No, I should've fucking chased after Y/N when I had the chance. Oh, God. Should I change my sunglasses and hat?

"Miss Olsen?" I dramatically lift my eyes up from the spot where my engagement ring used to be to see the eyes of the kind stewardess saving me from myself. "If you'd like to follow me." I nod before getting up and following her like a lost puppy. Except lost puppies don't get the stink eye from people, you never met.

Once we make it to the gate, the stewardess leads me to a man waiting with my bags. Well, all except one thing. Y/N's guitar case. Also, who is this man? Why is he here? I can carry my own bags.

"Thank you," I say to the stewards, who gives me a tight-lipped smile before turning back onto the plane. I walk up to the man and thank him for gathering all my belongings, but I can take it from here. He obliges as I double-check that I do indeed have everything except the guitar. I do! So with my purse securely on my shoulder and the bags and cases in my hands, I make my way to baggage claim.

Y/N POV

Two naps in one day.

I feel better after the second one. Or at least I thought I did. My eyes aren't tired. My head isn't killing me. But my throat. My throat got worse. Yes, it doesn't pain me as much to speak, but it's extra scratchy, and anytime I do try and speak, it's not my voice. I sound like a different person. Oh goodness, I need cough drops and water quick.

A text to James, Robbie, Max, and my mom later, and I'm the last one off. I've never been that last one off a plane, so I guess I can cross that off my bucket list. Why is it called that? Anyways with no bags carried on with me, it's now time to try to find my airline's baggage claim.

Oh yeah, also, I've never been to LAX before, so this is a new terrifying experience.

I hate that I'm doing this by myself.

_

I shouldn't have listened to Nick. I swear I've watched hundreds of people come by and be gone while I'm still here. I literally watched a guy walk around the corner, come by, scoop up his bag and walk straight into a car waiting for him. What the fuck?

Also, some people have zero sense of fashion. I know I don't, but I was learning a thing or two from the Olsens. Plus, I'm gay, so it's different.

Anygays, after watching the black suitcase with red lining pass by for the 7,495 time, I'm about to give up when brand new bags start coming down.

I watch as the crowd around me starts to grow. I had to do a double take when I thought I saw a woman in an LA Dodgers cap hanging around, but I didn't see her anymore, and I have to remember I'm actually in California now, so that's probably normal.

_

Finally, I saw it! My large suitcase was making its way to me. Without much of a struggle, I'm able to pull off the belt and make sure that, yes, it's mine. I'm about to finally walk away when something catches my eye.

I watch as it slides its way down before slowly making it was past me. It can't be. I look over the stickers on the case. Surely someone else has my exact same ones.

Except no one has my Davey-made sticker for my high school track team. Only one was made.

And there it is.

I watch as the case passes the people to my right. "Hey." I croak out of my throat as I watch a hand go and grab the case. Shit. They didn't hear me. When did so many people get here?

"Excuse me." "Get out of my way." "Sorry."

These are all the things I'm spitting out as the power starts coming back into my voice as I'm rushing to whoever thinks they can't steal my guitar case.

How the fuck do they have it?

"Hey, stop," I call out once I'm behind the person. "You with the case!" Fucking unbelievable! They're ignoring me.

"Hey!" I clear my throat once more and get right up behind the person before grabbing the bottom of my case from them pulling them back towards me.

"Who the fuck do you think you are!"

Liz POV

It took long enough, but it's finally here in my hands. I'm surprised I haven't been recognized with how long I was just standing there waiting.

I thought I saw someone who looked a lot like Y/N peer their way toward me, but I lost them in the ever-growing crowd.

Anyways. It's finally here in my hand. I hear some commotion behind me, but I'm too tired to see what that's about. I just want to "Hey!" get to Aubrey's before bringing this guitar to Robb-

"Who the fuck do you think you are!"

I feel the guitar case being pulled from behind as my hand gets yanked back, turning me around.

"Hey!" I yell before our eyes meet.

Y/N & Liz POV

It's her! She's here in front of me!! Don't fuck this up.

Part 27