#he didn't remember it until after the fire alarm went off lol

[bambiraptorx]

I don't draw April enough so here's a four-page comic about her lmao

Anyway, I think Draxum would have a bit of a steep learning curve when it comes to living in a human apartment, and given that April lives in the same building he probably goes to her first if he needs something explained.

[bee-dot-exe]

Thank you for putting the idea out there and letting me make something out of it @miscellaneousplusmore, and thank you for being our messenger lol @disfrutalakia, enjoy!

Make A Wish

Sad. But kinda sweet too. No trigger warnings.

856 words

It was still dark out, a collection of freckles were painted on the blanket of indigo above, as Richarlyson began the day when his internal alarm went off.

He stretched, the joints in his arms popping slightly, he shook his head of fluffy hair, and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

He put on the prosthetic for the lower half of his leg, and walked over to his siblings that had spent the night, shaking their arms gently to rouse them.

Once they were all awake, at least enough for them to walk to a different location, Empanada and Pepito got ready for the day, Richas grabbed his backpack, held both of his siblings hands, and they were off.

They came up on a lone bench looking onto the shoreline of the frozen sea.

Richarlyson pulled off his backpack and the siblings took to unpacking and setting up.

There was a small cake with an unlit candle that was sitting on a circular tray and covered by a lid for traveling's sake as well as some paper plates and plastic silverware, three balloons for each of them to blow up and some spiderweb string to tie them on after, and of course a notebook and pen for each of them to use for communication.

When they were finally set up and had settled on the bench, Pepito pushed their glasses slightly up the bridge of their nose to reach a tiny hand and rub their eye, and started to lay their head on Empanada's shoulder who was sitting in the middle.

"Just a bit longer, Pepito, look, the dark is going away now and the sun is starting to try and play peek-a-boo. Here it comes. Do you remember what to do?"

Empanada nodded and reached for the notebook, which Richarlyson passed.

"Say good morning to Bobby."

Richas nodded and smiled brightly.

"Yes! Here he is. Hi Bobby!"

Three little hands flew up and waved to the rising pale yellow orb and then Pepito reached for the notebook.

"Now Tío Forever?"

Richarlyson nodded his head in agreement.

The children spent the next section of time waving until the sun had fully appeared.

Then Richarlyson blew just a whisper of fire from his mouth to light the candle on his cake and cut a small piece for each of them.

After that, Richas and Empanada decided to take turns writing to each other, while the youngest trio member got a bit more caught up on chasing dreams.

"Feliz anniversario, Richas."

"Thanks Emmy."

They sat in silence for a moment before Richarlyson wrote again.

"Aren't you gonna ask what I wished for?"

"But then it won't come true."

"I don't know if it would come true anyway."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well don't give it away just in case, you never know, we can keep our fingers crossed!"

"Alright, thanks Em, you're a good sister."

"And you're a good brother."

They held hands and let silence wash over them as the sun rose higher into the cerulean ocean above.

The siblings stayed there together until late afternoon, writing and laughing and maybe eating a bit more cake, when Empanada and Pepito wanted to spend time with their tío's or parental figures.

Of course Richarlyson let them, hugging them a final time, before sitting back on the bench.

It was moments like these when Richas wished he could speak, could scream, could do anything besides giggle or exhale in frustration or something.

But he could write.

"Hi Pai. Maybe you know this, maybe you forgot, but it's my birthday.

And even though you didn't act the same when we saw each other last and you did some not really good things, I know you're still in there somewhere.

I wish I was spending today with you. That's what I thought when I blew out my candle. Just a few minutes.

I miss you. A lot. And I hope you come back from wherever you are. But I know you might not.

I love you, Pai."

By the time Richas finished his letter, the sun was just beginning to tuck itself in with a tangerine and rose and cornflower blanket.

He waved goodbye to Bobby, and to pai Forever, and to his birthday.

His eyes started to droop as the day finished taking its toll and he settled on the bench.

Before he could get completely comfortable though, Richarlyson felt a pair of arms lift him up and settle him into their chest.

Their clothing was soft, their long fingers gently tangling with his mass of fluffy hair, they smelled ever so slightly of burning matches.

"Hi Richas."

It was Tío Bad.

"How long have you been here, hm, what all did you do today?"

In lou of a verbal answer, or a written one, his mouth stretched in a yawn.

"Yeah, I feel ya, let's go get some sleep, okay?"

He nodded into his tío's chest, wrapped his arms around Bad's upper torso, and they headed to the mega base.

Richarlyson's letter waiting for the return of who it was addressed to as the flecks of paint returned to the sky.

[cleromancy]

talia is such a deeply deeply sympathetic character in lost days. and in addition to like... the very obvious racist misogynistic stuff going on from fandom, with talia being a very convenient scapegoat* for anything unsavory Jason did fully on his own power, about the game of telephone, there are a couple specific things she does that get taken out of context/misinterpreted imo

(*along with the lazarus pit. pit madness fanon my fucking beloathed. like just to get my first petty grievance out of the way, the pit in lost days was FUCKING GOLD 😭. secondly she actively did it knowing how bad it would piss off her father, who is 100% portrayed as abusive and controlling to her in that same book! ARGH)

anyway OP none of this is directed at you i am just writing a long ramble in defense of talia vs the misconceptions/misinterpretations of her in lost days ive run into. so tldr I Agree With You OP And I Have Thoughts

the first thing imo is that people have a kneejerk response to any perceived manipulation... like, Jason, sympathetic and entirely without malice, tells talia he understands now that she had been stalling him before. but the thing she had been stalling him on? WAS *TO KEEP HIM FROM KILLING BRUCE.*

like... look me in the eyes and tell me Jason isn't grateful for that. because sure, he stopped himself from blowing up the batmobile on his own that one time, but that was an impulsive, last-minute choice he made after extensively, *meticulously* planning to blow it up in the first place. i don't think jason himself even knows what he would have done if she hadn't given him a series of convenient distractions, and told him what he needed to hear to focus on them, instead of focusing on *murdering Bruce.*

and i think people also want her to have been like... the reason jason fell into being so murder-happy. and like. No. like there's a degree to which its open to interpretation how much she approves of or agrees with his methods--personally i think just about up until hearing of her fathers death talia is actually trying to nudge him *away* from the "I don't really give a *crap* about the world" conclusion he lands at after walking away from the joker (as opposed to lighting him on fire lol). because when jason defends killing egon, what makes her start smiling is when he says "don't *tell me* the world isn't better off," and at another point she suggests that Jason's making a habit of doing it, i think the phrase she uses is "falling into old habits," meaning superhero shit, and imo at least shes tentatively approving. because she'd been genuinely so concerned and alarmed by jasons single-mindedness when he first regained more cognitive functioning and i do think she tried to encourage any sign that he cared about, god, about anything at all other than bruce.

and it just happens to be really damn bad luck that that talia getting the news about her father (note: i dont remember how that actually went in its own storyline LMAO i might be misrepresenting it bc im just going off whats on the page in lost days) and jasons encounter with the joker happened in such close proximity to each other, because i really think it was the specific combination that cemented jason on the utrh bound path. up till now, yeah, she was stalling him, and she was right to. but now she thinks bruce killed her father. and especially since jason no longer has any plans to kill bruce... that changed things. but mostly what changed was that talia was finally *on board* with a plan jason had already been heading toward.

and there's also. i mean "Why Didn't Talia Tell Bruce Jason Was Back🤔🤔" likr why do you fucking think. how well do you think that would have gone for goddamn anybody. bruce would have fucked it up so bad. anyway it was an entirely understandable and sympathetic and reasonable choice on her part and no matter her reasons i genuinely don't think that her having told bruce, at any point, would have lessened or averted the tragedy

and. y'know. on the topic of the Bad Idea Sex. firstly it was there in the narrative to drive home how unwell and lonely they both are at this point in time and it works fantastically to that end. secondly, the age difference/grooming allegations are like.

okay so in batman annual 25, im like 90% sure that it says Jason was out of the grave and catatonic but responsive for 3 years before she pushes him into the pit. then jason runs off and when they catch up again talia sends him on his training montage around the world where jason visibly ages i would say at minimum two years. time was clearly intended to be passing while they were more apart than together. AND LIKE, ITS COMICS TIMELINES, SO I KNOW THIS DOESN'T MATCH UP, BUT IT'S COMICS TIMELINES SO YOU CAN BE FLEXIBLE ABOUT IT... like we can know that jasons supposed to be at least 20 at the end of lost days and also still understand that for the timeline of A Death in the Family/A Lonely Place of Dying to function he can only be ~2 years older than tim. like i promise you can just hold these two things in your mind at the same time, just so each part of the story can be what it needs to be. the ONLY REASON to go with jasons younger age for the lost days sex scene is to make talia into a sexual predator that she was very obviously not intended to be in that story.

because there was *not* grooming like. that was the ONLY time she displayed any kind of sexual interest in him and like. it was not about attraction or chemistry it was about loneliness and it was about anger and it was about bruce. MOREOVER. he spent most of those like 2+ years AWAY from her like this was not a case of her waiting until he hit a certain age to prey on him.

and as for the like. power dynamic shit like. no she was not his fucking mom she wasnt motherly to him either jfc. she was his patron, sponsor/benefactor and maybe even his friend! jfc!! please let female characters especially female characters of color exist around other characters without having to be their FUCKING moms

and secondly wrt power dynamics. ik i just said shes his benefactor but honestly. i truly dare anyone look me in the eyes and tell me poor widdle jason was ever, at any point after fully regaining his facilities from the pit, under talias control. like. the very last time talia is truly able to tell jason what to do is when hes still disoriented from that and following her lead by default. after that hes doing exactly whatever the fuck he wants and theres not a hell of a lot talia can do to stop him. so like sure, the scenario HAD the potential to have fucked up power dynamics or whatever but honestly when it came down to it that was simply not on the page, that was not what was being portrayed.

so like yeah the sex was a horrible idea and every time i get there when im reading i kind of hope they don't actually do it this time. and therefore it did exactly what it was supposed to for the narrative and like. i think some people need to be more comfortable with the idea that sex can be bad, that people can choose to have it for unhealthy reasons, while still being consensual lol

was that everything... i think tjats basically everything. hashtag free talia 👍 send tweet.

i dont understand how jason fans can read lost days and come out of it hating talia? she cares about him so much that it hurts to watch, so much so that it puts her at odds with her father. some of the stuff i see about what they think talia did are just things that she /couldve/ done but didnt. she gave him autonomy, protected him from ra's, did what she could to help him.

is it just a repeated fanon thing? people say talia abused jason in lost days, others hear that and decide they dont have to read it and just take that as fact, then they tell other people their opinion of a story they didn't read... that can't be it. that's so dumb.

fanon really is just an annoying game of telephone isn't it

[allherdaydreams]

Valley of Kings — Chapter One

Vali | The Middleman

Universe: Vikings Pairing(s): None yet (there will be several later on, mainly Ivar x fem!OC and much later on, Harald x fem!OC) Word Count: 3,160 Warnings: Bad writing ig? Author’s Note: I don't really love this lol, but I decided I'm just going to publish the chapters on here when I'm done and have slightly edited them and hope for some feedback, etc. Sorry if it's not great! Anyway, lemme know if you wanna be on a taglist and I’ll add you! Constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated ❤️

read the prologue here

I remember the smell of the air — as spring was leaving, with summer slowly taking its place, the wind was gentle and sweet with the scent of wildflowers. The hunting cabin which belonged to the royal family of Kattegat rested in the foothills just east of the town; to the south surrounded by trees, and to the north, mountains. The smell of pine and woodbine lingered in the air, too, though all of the sweet scents of the wilderness were drowned out with that of the meat we roasted over the fire each night we stayed there.

I remember the way the grass tickled the back of my neck as my friends and I watched the clouds. I had never understood why Sigyn insisted on being barefoot every moment that we were out there, but in midday, the dew had only just faded and the greenery was soft underfoot. The clear blue sky gave us a false sense of security.

It was the last truly peaceful day I would have in a long, long time. I must have been fifteen or sixteen, but I had always looked and acted older. My friends were all older, too — I was the same age as the youngest son of Ragnar, Ivar, but I only spent time with him when his brothers were around. I had been inseparable from Ubbe, Hvitserk, and Sigurd since I was small. We all figured we would stay that way forever.

We had been at the cabin for many days, and planned to head back into town at the end of the upcoming week. That day, Hvitserk and I had both killed a deer, Sigurd had caught many rabbits in his traps, and Ubbe had tracked a boar, though he was still waiting for the right time to shoot it without the probability of getting attacked. (He was much wiser than Hvitserk and I; had it been either of ours to kill, we would have gone after it with no hesitation or regard for our safety at all.)

My sister had come with us — Ivar went, too, and wherever Ivar was, Sigyn was never far behind — but had never enjoyed hunting. Instead, she chose to spend the trip in and around the cabin, cooking and cleaning. When the chores were all done, she spent the rest of her time alone out in the yard, lost in her own head. She was, it seemed, daydreaming at nearly every waking moment of her life.

When we reached the cabin that day, we found her in her usual spot on the grass, staring off at the clouds even as we reached her. Ivar crawled toward her, but instead of trying to grab her attention, he only laid down next to her.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked, staring up at the sky. As the other princes and I walked into the cabin, I heard Sigyn begin to tell a most detailed story, as she always did when Ivar asked that question.

"I am dreaming of a far away kingdom on the edge of the world..."

When we had resurfaced from the entrance of the cabin, Ivar and Sigyn were still laying in the same spot. Hvitserk had flashed me a grin as he nudged my arm before strutting over and laying down on the vacant side of Sigyn. Knowing he wished for me to follow, I laid down next to him.

"You know, Sigyn," Hvitserk said. "If you come with us to the Mediterranean, you will get to see a far away kingdom."

"Yes, Hvitserk, I know." She responded simply. "But it would not be as magnificent as the ones I dream about. Besides, I love Kattegat and I have no wish to leave. We have been over this."

Sigyn had always been straightforward. She was very honest about everything, and often didn't understand the difference between our jests or when we meant what we said. I suppose that my sweet sister assumed that everyone would be as charmingly frank about their feelings as her.

Sigyn had the softest, steadiest voice I had ever heard. She often kept a calm tone which made her seem as if she had the most level head in Norway. Only when she was in great distress or feeling something very strong did her tone ever noticeably change. Not to say she was emotionless by any means — she felt a great deal more than I could ever wrap my head around — but she was always calm. At least, she always was when she was around us.

"Are you going to be okay here while Mother and Father and I are gone, Sigyn?" I asked gently, leaning upwards just slightly to look over at her past Hvitserk. Hvitserk's brows furrowed slightly, and he looked over at her too as she gazed thoughtfully at the clouds. She nodded slowly, turning her head to meet our gazes.

"I think so. You will not be gone very long. I will have Ivar and Muninn." I smiled at her sweet tone, but had to keep myself from grimacing.

"We may be gone all summer," I reminded her.

"Or longer," added Hvitserk. She nodded again and looked back at the clouds.

"Perhaps you will. And I will miss you everyday. But you'll come back." Hvitserk and I looked at each other, and I shrugged as I laid back down. I knew she understood — she was always the more intelligent twin — but I just didn't want her to be hit with the emotions all at once when I would not be there to talk over them with her. We may not have spent every waking moment together, but we had never been separated in our lives.

We stayed there for a long time, quietly and sparsely conversing amongst ourselves. When Ubbe and Sigurd had finished skinning the meat for dinner, they called us over. Sigyn and Ubbe were the best cooks among us, so they were the ones to prepare our meal while the rest of us sat around them and talked. It was not long until we heard the sound of hooves coming up the path to the cabin, and Hvitserk and I stood and craned our necks to see who the incoming rider could be.

"It's Bjorn!" I called the others. Sigyn and Ubbe looked up then, put down the food, and quickly joined the rest of us as we all watched the eldest prince of Kattegat approach.

His expression was grim — though he was usually serious, I wasn't used to him looking so discouraged or unhappy. He dismounted his horse once he reached the cabin, tying the reins to a fence post.

"Hello, Bjorn," Sigyn said, walking up to him with a smile. She turned towards the tall horse, stroking his head gently, her attention now completely focused on the stallion. Bjorn smiled faintly as he gave her a nod.

"Hello, Sigyn," As he passed her, he patted her shoulder. Tearing his eyes away from my sister, he looked towards the rest of us, and his expression darkened again. "I come with news. You will all want to sit down."

By the time Bjorn had finished his story, all of our faces looked just as grim as his. Sigyn, who was sat on a bench behind Ivar, was the only one of us who didn't look angry in the slightest — her downcast eyes made it seem as if she was on the verge of tears as she absentmindedly ran her fingers through Ivar's hair. She had always had a habit of soothing herself with soft textures when anxious or upset; usually, one of us lent our hand or hair for her to play with, if there was no small animal close enough for her to pet.

We were all quiet and contemplative for a while, all of us stuck in our own thoughts. I wondered what Hvitserk was thinking.

"You think our father never knew?" Ubbe brought his gaze up from the table to the sky, which had turned to grey. I saw in his eyes a calculating worry. He was trying to find reason in something where there likely wasn't anything that was good enough to justify it.

"It's possible," Bjorn mused, watching the knife in his hands as he turned it over slowly. "In those early days, it wasn't easy to navigate the sea."

"He knew. He had to." Hvitserk spoke from beside me. I glanced at him and nodded in agreement.

"If he did, he should have told the people," Sigurd decided aloud. "Everyone lost relatives; fathers and uncles, sons and daughters. They would have demanded revenge."

"That is why he didn't tell them," Ivar shot back, glaring at Sigurd.

"What do you mean?" Ubbe asked as his brows furrowed. Ivar rolled his eyes.

"It was a waste of time." He said simply.

"Ivar..." Sigyn's voice trailed off. Her face made it clear that she wanted to say something, but didn't know how to approach her volatile best friend.

"They were dead, Sigyn! Ragnar wanted to sail to Paris. He wanted to be famous. Isn't that more important?" He turned to look at her, and she drew her hands back from his hair and into her lap. "Hmm?"

Sigyn looked at the ground.

"I don't think so," She said solemnly.

"You can say that." Bjorn replied, shrugging. Ivar turned again, back to facing his brothers and I.

"I can say that? What does that mean?"

"Here's what it means —" Hvitserk interjected. "— at least to me. Our father abandoned us. We were just kids, and he ran off. Only the Gods know if he's still alive. And now, we hear he kept this big secret from everyone. That he was not truthful or honest."

"This makes me feel sick," Sigurd shook his head again. "How could our father not tell the people what had happened?"

"Maybe if he had told them, they would have killed him." Bjorn replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"If it's true..." Ubbe began. "If it's true that our father lied to his people and abandoned them, then I hope he never comes back."

"He betrayed our name. If he ever came back, I would kill him." Hvitserk snarled, ripping Sigyn out of her mind and back into the present. Her head shot up to look at Hvitserk.

"Me too." Sigurd agreed. Sigyn looked back and forth between the two of them, her expression somewhere between alarm and betrayal.

"Screw you!" Ivar exclaimed. Hvitserk scoffed and looked down, shaking his head. "All of you. He never did anything wrong. He is our father. And that is the end of it. You all sound like a bunch of Christians."

"I love our father as much as you do—" Ubbe said, but was interrupted by Ivar.

"Who said I loved him, Ubbe? I said I admired him. He's Viking. And you are soft." Ivar's voice was defensive, challenging, angry; as he usually was.

"I am not soft! None of us—" Ubbe gestured to his other brothers and to me. "— are soft. But we want to understand what our father did, and what he was."

He crouched down in front of Ivar, glancing up at Sigyn before making eye contact with Ivar. "As his son, his fame does not interest me. What he used his power for—" Ubbe pressed a finger to his temple. "— now that would interest me."

"By now, my brothers, there will be a lot of anger in Kattegat. Now they know the truth. Our father betrayed a whole generation of people," Hvitserk said.

"So if he ever came back—" Sigurd started to say, causing Bjorn to sit up straighter and stare at his brother.

"I don't think he is ever going to come back!" Bjorn exclaimed, frustrated. "I think what happened in Paris finally broke him. You all can say whatever you want, but he was a human. People started to talk as if he was a God — he was not a God! He was a man! A man with many dreams and many failings. I've learned that in the years since he went away. If I was him, I wouldn't come back."

I glanced at my sister now, who was watching Bjorn sadly.

"Despite all his failings, he is still the greatest man in the world to me," Bjorn looked down at the ground again as finished his sentence.

"He cared for you — he cared for all of you," Sigyn said, looking to each prince in turn. "He made mistakes, but as Bjorn said, he is only human." Bjorn and Ivar nodded, but Hvitserk and Ubbe shook their heads.

"Sigyn, we were not lucky as you were to have a father that was there for us. If he truly cared enough, he would have stayed." Ubbe told her. His voice was gentle, as it always was when he spoke to her, but I could hear the frustration behind his words. "You should learn that about love now; love means loyalty. Dedication. You don't abandon those you love."

I watched my sister grapple with finding the right thing to say. Ivar reached a hand behind him, blindly reaching for Sigyn's own. Once he had grabbed it, he guided it to his shoulder before letting it go. Her fingers traced shapes onto his shirt.

"I must go to your home now, Vali, Sigyn," Bjorn looked towards each of us in turn. "I have more preparations for the voyage to discuss with you father, and now I should talk to him about this as well." I nodded at him.

"I will go with you," I replied, and looked towards Sigyn, who met my gaze.

"I should stay here, then. There is no need for both of us to go," She decided.

"Perhaps we should head back to Kattegat early," Ubbe suggested, looking to his brothers. "See the reactions of the people."

"We already know how the people will react, Ubbe," Hvitserk said. "But yes, we should go and see what we can do."

The journey to my home was longer than usual; we had gone around Kattegat instead of cutting through it, which was the quickest way there, but didn't seem appropriate. A silence hung between Bjorn and I for most of the journey.

"You did not speak," Bjorn said finally, just before we had reached my home. "You did not speak when we were discussing my father."

I nodded at him. "It was not my turn to speak. Not my conversation to have." Bjorn let out a short hum of amusement.

"I think you discount your wisdom. Or maybe your importance," Bjorn decided. I didn't have an answer to that.

We dismounted our horses as we reached out family's land. Bjorn walked ahead of me, but stopped slowly and leaned against one of my father's many souvenirs from past raids. I stopped beside him, and he glanced at me before nodding his head over to the water. When I followed his gaze, I was met with my parents wading in the shallows with the little model ships I had helped him make.

My father must have noticed our presence somehow, because he turned to look at us before he walked over. Bjorn drew close to him, then spoke in a low voice.

"Did you know Ragnar lied to us all? The settlement in Wessex was destroyed as soon as we left." My father looked from Bjorn to me, then to the ground as he thought for a moment. He nodded, glancing back to me before looking Bjorn in the eyes again.

"I knew," He said. "A farmer who had escaped the slaughter told you father and I what had happened. Then, Ragnar killed him, so no one else would find out."

"You were a good friend to my father," Bjorn replied simply.

"Bjorn? Vali?" My mother's voice reached my ears, and I turned from the men to her, smiling.

"Helga," Bjorn answered, immediately walking towards her.

"Hello, Mamma," I called to her, following Bjorn again.

"What brings you back so soon, Vali? I thought you were going to be gone hunting for another week," My mother questioned as she walked out of the water and met us on the sand, embracing me.

"I decided to come back early. We caught plenty of game," I lied, but she nodded and smiled as she drew away from me. She turned to Bjorn.

"And what brings you here, Bjorn?"

"I was just coming to see how the boats were progressing," Bjorn explained.

"What do you say, Helga? What shall we tell him?" My father asked, walking along the docks.

"We think that it won't be long before you have boats ready and able to take you to the Mediterranean Sea," My mother told Bjorn happily.

"If it exists," My father muttered.

"Of course it exists," Bjorn insisted, looking up from the model boat my mother had placed in his hands.

"It's just a map, Bjorn; marks on a paper. A child could have drawn it! How can we know it's real?" My father asked. Bjorn studied the boat more as he thought over his words carefully.

"I learned from my father. The only way to tell if something is real..." Bjorn knelt down, gently pushing the model back into the sea. "...is to sail there."

I would like to think I can remember everything of that day — of most days spent at the hunting cabin, in Kattegat; with my friends, with my sister; the days that bled into each other and the nights that ended with sunrise instead of slumber; that phase in my life where I was preparing for the rest of it, learning the arts and trades and traditions of my people.

Indeed, I would certainly like to think that nothing of those days has escaped my memory. But as I write this, and as I try to recall every moment of every day & night spent in the sweet comfort of home, of youth, of camaraderie with those whom I still love most in the world, I recognize that the mind is never so sharp as to be able to recall every last detail or feeling from many years prior. My mind is not as sharp as it once was, either — I have accepted that soon, if it hasn't already, it will begin to fail me.

Perhaps not all of this story happened in the way I remember it — who is to say, when so few of us are left and still able to recount our adventures? — but the stories of my people & my past deserve to be told. Otherwise, who will remember the Norsemen? The Vikings are gone. I am one of the last to be able to remember the Golden Age. This story is mine to tell.

tags // @peachyboneless @youbloodymadgenius sorry y’all probably forgot about this fic its been so long lmaoo i’ll unadd you if you want

[anntidote]

:club room keys - sawamura daichi

back to: series index || ann’s playground

pairing: sawamura daichi x fem!reader

word count: 2.6k

warnings: timestop!au, TW!!dubcon, smut, angst, pwp, blowjob, deep throating, penetration, i still don’t know if this counts as somnophilia (?), mentions of kageyama, michimiya, and oikawa

summary: rain comes down heavy after student council duties, but you still have to drop off a set of keys. luckily, daichi helps you out- and there’s only so many ways that you can repay him.

a/n: dedicated to @ceo-of-daichi simply because lydz deserves a different daichi D word than drought. so here’s some dick LOL. 

the ring of the intercom and the bustling life of students. the clatter of shoes against the blue tile and chatter of passing conversation, definitely fell on deaf ears. your form slumping against the desk, and the weight of your face leaning into your palm. 

it'd been a couple days since your last run in with tobio, and the whole ordeal of the bathroom incident. the thoughts of him still living rent free in your mind-- at how his eyebrows scrunched up. pursed lips and the weeping tip of his cock, almost blushing the same shade of rose that graced his cheeks. 

wait. you shook your head. no. you told yourself you wouldn't think of him like that anymore. 

 tobio doesn't deserve to be a rebound. he deserves to be treasured, and loved correctly. your job was to keep that awkward, wobbly smile on his face when sipping on his milk straw. you were to worry about his studies, and whether he goes straight home after practice.

the last thing that should be bothering you is the voice at the back of your head. tethering your mindset elsewhere, and questioning why he was jacking off in the school bathroom in the first place. 

what made him so frustrated that he went during class?

did he like someone that much? was it someone you knew?

was that someone perhaps you?

"so will you do it?" hands slamming down on your desk, you bolt upright in shock. snapped out of a day dream, you're met with the sight of michimiya, captain of the girls' volleyball team. a crumb or two still on her face, her lopsided grin holds hope when she stares down at you. 

"h-huh?" you barely register her words to respond, still alarmed. "i asked if you were willing to drop off our gym's keys after practice. i need to hurry home to do something-- but…" she retracts her hands and props them on her hips. "... are you doing alright? you've seem out of it these couple days. it's not like you." 

"if i could turn back time and fix what i did, i would."

your nose scrunches up a bit at the impromptu flashback. "just peachy." 

"oh really?" a tinge of sarcasm sprinkled into her reply, you luckily miss the flash of pity in her eyes when you finally look up at her.

 almost as if she knew.

 "well, i hope things get better for you."

"yeah, yeah." you wave off the topic. "but you said you needed me to drop off keys or something?" 

"ah, right!" her usual go-lucky smile making an appearance. "sawamura asked if he could borrow our gym after practice for the last couple days, but i have to promised to run some errands back at home. i was hoping you could swing by the club room after student council, and drop off the keys for me?" 

you bit back a laugh, trying to keep the best poker face you could- as the pleading expression on her face looked like something out of a cartoon. "i don't know…"

"oh my goodness, please! i already promised sawamura, and it's already hard enough, trying to get all the members to get to practice and-" 

you grab her shoulders, halting the blubbering, and frantic look in her eyes. "calm down, yui! i was only joking- of course i will."

…

rain was something tooru despised. 

his complaints were one of a child, as it ruined his hair. it made everything sticky, and smell like wet dog. being out too long would make him sick, and if there was too much of it- it would turn into a storm. it could turn into a hurricane. or even a typhoon. 

and it's honestly ironic, even as you hold your bag over your head. your rubber sneakers hitting the mud and pavement, rushing to get under the roof of the club building. much to your luck, the reminiscent squeak of rubber isn't heard, as the gym doors were shut. letting out a huff, the sheer amount of relief that pours over you when the familiar screech of the metal door opens is a blessing. 

"hey! you made it-- oh my gosh, get inside!" he cuts off his warm greeting, as he grabs your wrist, pulling you into the room before the door slams behind you. "holy crap, you're drenched."

"thanks for stating the obvious, daichi." you snarkily remark, but still giving him a small smile. 

you knew daichi for a lot of reasons. being the karasuno boys' volleyball captain, he's been noted as one of dependability. a solid rock in a foundation, and everything the student body says about him is relatively positive. 

but even as a third year, you can still remember his shenanigans like it was yesterday. how he dashed past you whilst racing the basketball team's captain, and accidentally hitting the fire alarm. you couldn't even count how many times he'd had a run in with the principal's toupee. 

but even now, in his plain tee and black shorts-- there's this responsible look in his eyes. a quality only built up by experience, and you mentally applaud him. especially when you learn the sheer amount of siblings he had. 

"here's the keys for the other gym." you drop the keys into his open palm.

"ah, thanks." a hand moves to the back of his neck, a tell tale sign of his nervousness. "but i thought michimiya was dropping these off."

"yui had something to do today, so she asked me to. hope you don't mind it being me instead of your girlfriend." 

his eyes widen, beginning to frantically shake his hands in front of him. "n-no! that's not what i meant at all! she's not even my girlfriend, i-" he cuts himself off at the sound of your laugh, as you clutch a palm on your mouth. a grin peaks through his annoyance. "hey! why're you laughing so bad?"

"i'm sorry but what the heck is this?" you push past him to point at the poster at the far right corner of the room.

"bikini girls? really?"

the blush that comes over his face is absolutely hilarious. "t-that was-!"

"man, who knew sawamura daichi, captain of the volleyball club was a boob man! wait until yui hears about this!" you almost double over in laughter, watching steam puff out of daichi's ears in utter embarrassment. 

"don't you have somewhere to be?" he tries to divert the subject, only to hear a crack of thunder beat you to a response. the onslaught of rain beginning to hit the window panes at full force, and the lights flickering. "... nevermind." 

"i meant to ask, is it okay if i'm in here?" looking down, you fiddle with the hem of your skirt. "this is the boys' club room after all." 

unfortunately for daichi, the implication doesn't go over his head. and the fact that you're confused about why his face seems to flush a further shade of red seems to seal the deal.

that man, does daichi hates being a guy right now. 

his initial intent was to simply shield you from the rain. the simple connection that he didn't want you to get further drenched, and fall sick because of the favor he asked for. but now?

he feels guilty when his eyes draw lower, the tune of your laughter and friendly banter playing like background music. he swallows at the translucency of your uniforms while dress shirt. how the faint blue shape of your bra cups your chest, and how the damp fabric seems to cling to your skin. the jealousy of the water droplets that run down your neck and into the divet of your collarbones. 

you're in the boys' volleyball club room right now. clothes and gym bags strewn about, the smell of teenage cologne, and all alone. 

"t-the rest of the club is in the gym with the coaches." daichi stutters, before coughing to clear his throat. "we can just wait until it lightens up and make a dash for it." 

"sounds like a plan! how's tobio doing with sho-- achoo!" you start, only to sneeze mid way. 

"crap, your clothes are soaked from the rain." you hurry to wipe your nose, as daichi hands a set of spare clothes toward you. "here."

you raise an eyebrow. "why do you have another set of gym clothes?"

"after hinata puked at our seijoh game, i'm not taking any more chances-- oh shit, wait!" he explains, before his eyes widen at your fingers undoing your blouse buttons, and hurriedly turning the other direction. 

you giggle at his panic stricken face, before proceeding to peel the dampened cloth off your body, and your mind still processing the fact he had to have mentioned seijoh. but then a voice chimes in from the back of your head, crying out desperately. 

"if i could turn back time and fix what i did, i would." 

it's truly unfortunate. and you genuinely sorry for daichi, as you dig into the pocket of your soaked blazer, and pressing the lone button on the stop watch. the pattering of the droplets against the window, halting in its path. the swirl of winds silencing, and the thunder strike through the air, simply pausing at your fingertips. 

you're not stupid. you knew where daichi's eyes trailed, especially as you drop your underwear and skirt to the floor, altogether. stepping out of the clothes and bounding toward the captain, sinking to your knees, and staring up at the frozen crimson tint of his face. 

you knew the moment you were pulled into this room, that this was a bad idea. and right then and there, your entire consciousness told you that this was your chance to be a good person. 

… but was tooru ever a good person? 

you let out a small gasp as you grab at his clothed bulge, already half hard through the cloth of his shorts. feeling yourself salivate, you begin to slowly pump. pawing at his size, coaxing him into a full erection. 

and honestly, you wonder what would go through daichi's head right now. what would this man think as you pulled down his athletic wear, and how you stared at him in pure wonder. what would he do when his cock lewdly slaps against his abdomen, and falls shy of your lips? what would he do when you swirl your tongue over hips tip, lapping up the weeping cry of arousal, and savoring his taste? taking him deeper, peering back up through fogging vision, as your struggle, and choke around him. coating him in spit, saliva dripping down your chin, and making an utter mess. 

you coo at how responsive he is, even when unconscious. the frozen look of his face is one of guilt, but the tips of his ears are the same shade of his cock. you wish to tell him that it's alright, as you were definitely more of a sinner than him. popping off of his length and heaving a full breath, you stand. cupping his face by the cheek, and gently nudging his face to meet yours. 

"sorry." your whisper fans hotly against his face, as you continue. moving his limbs almost like a doll, laying him against the floor, and having your legs on either side of his hips. 

but if you were going to have fun, it's only fair you'd share it. 

the thunder strikes far from where you are, and the heavy breeze makes the windows wobble. but daichi doesn't seem to care- as everything hits him like a truck. 

the slick of your mouth, and the choke of your throat. the pumps of your soft hand against his shaft- and how you brutally sink your weeping cunt onto him. the ungiving clench and sheer heat of your pussy had his hands flying to your hips. his eyes widening at the sight of your hands against his chest. fucking yourself onto his cock, moaning his name like a mantra, and lust blown gaze staring right back at him- his eyes roll back as everything becomes too much. 

he cums. rope upon rope of milky essence spills from him, legs shaking and earth shattering. daichi almost screams, as the pleasure is borderline painful. the sight of you was too much to handle, and undoubtedly made him double over. "ah shit-!"

daichi doesn't know how you paused time once again, just to make sure he doesn't cum inside you. he doesn't know how quickly you dropped to your knees, mouth wide open, and how he releases down your throat. how you milk every single drop out of him before freezing the world at will. 

all daichi knows is confusion and the fuzziness his head pounds with. when suddenly, you're not on top of him anymore. his form is turned, facing the wall again. shaky legs, and not laid against the floor. 

"daichi? are you okay?" you call out. 

he coughs, turning toward you. "y-yeah…" his confusion etching even more as you're wearing his spare shirt, still in your skirt, and a tilted head facing him. "... i think."

you laugh, hitting his shoulder playfully. "goodness, does the lightning scare you so bad? you look like someone just sucked the soul outta ya!" 

he thinks you don't know a thing. the sight of your walls sucking him in fresh in his mind makes heat, and guilt simultaneously pool at his gut. he thinks you're the most innocent soul on earth when you lean in toward him, pressing your palm on his forehead, and giving him an eyeful that makes his breath hitch, before taking a step back. 

"don't get sick on me now, captain. you take care of everyone else, so who's going to take care of you?" you tell him off with a wink, only for him to hum an incoherent response, and his mind still buzzing. 

was that all his imagination? 

"oh look! it's lightening up!" you snap him out of his train of thought when you smile, grabbing his hand, pulling him forward. "let's make a run for it!" 

"w-wait!" he stops your other hand from turning the door knob. 

you turn toward him, eyebrows raised. "huh?"

it definitely catches you off guard as daichi leans in to look into your eyes. you feel your heart pound in your ears when you stare back. the caramel shade of his skin and the dark pupils trying to analyze you- trying to figure you out. "d-daichi?" you stutter out. 

"a-ah… sorry." he pulls back before muttering something under his breath. something about it feeling real. 

and it almost hurts as you facade innocence, letting go of his hand and racing toward karasuno's second gym. bags over your heads as you pound against the door, and laugh heartily as kageyama messes up a serve in your presence. it almost hurts as your cunt weeps arousal, and ruins your new, navy blue set of panties. 

because it's ironic at how much you told tooru how much you loved the rain. how fun it was as a child to jump into puddles, and dance. how the pattering felt like the knock on a door and a call out to play. how easily rain covered for all the moans that daichi never got to hear when you came around him, walls creaming him in your slick. how the wind howls loudly so that no one could hear you babble your gratitude, and at how thankful you were. and how rain was the best excuse for your tears. the most viable excuse of why your face was an utter mess the other day. 

and how it seemed to rain the same day tooru broke your heart in two. 

[orange-waterfalls]

I Won't Miss You Much

Illinois x gender neutral!reader

@just-bts-trash-00 ty for the prompt

A/N: the title is a lie from our very own adventurer. Illinois being a lonely boy and getting a taste of his own medicine I guess. He leaves for adventures for weeks on end and just goes "haha y/n will be fine" yeah it's not so GOOD IS IT, ILLY? sorry I'm tired. Uuuuuuh comedy??? And fluff??? I took a jab at Hallmark movies at one point lol. Rated T for cursing. I didn't intend for the end to be suggestive but I think that's what happened. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2.8k

--

Illinois drove back home, smiling from ear to ear. He'd just found an entire chest of treasure. Gold, silver, jewels, you name it. He'd give a lot of it to museums, like always, but even with what he'd have left, he wouldn't have to adventure for a month! A month to spend time with you. That sounded lovely.

He'd been going on a lot of adventures recently, so you two didn't see each other much. He was pretty okay with it, but he knew how much you wanted to spend time with him. This was a great opportunity. He didn't call to tell you he was coming home. He wanted to surprise you.

He pulled into the driveway, turning the car off and walking up to the door. He knocked 7 times in a rhythmic pattern. He heard a bit of shuffling from inside before you opened the door a crack. Upon seeing your boyfriend, your eyes widened and you threw the door open.

"Illinois?" You asked, confused. "What are you doing here?"

"This is my house?" He laughed. You pulled him into a hug and he backed you into the house, closing the door with his foot.

"I thought you'd be gone until tomorrow…" you said and pulled out of the hug.

"I wanted to come home early," he shrugged. "Besides, I don't have to adventure for a month." You blinked at him.

"A… a month?" You repeated with less enthusiasm.

"Yeah! So we can spend a lot of time together, just like you want."

"Oh…"

"What's wrong? Were you planning on breaking up with me?" He chuckled. He looked behind you, seeing a suitcase on the couch. He looked back at you and frowned. "Please don't break up with me…"

"Oh! Oh, no, no, no! That's not what that's for!" You reassured. "I just…"

"What?"

"I'm… going on a business trip…"

"Business trip? To where?"

"Uh… Brazil…"

"Brazil?"

"Yeah…" you said apologetically. "A client hired me to take photos… in Brazil… I'm sorry…"

"It's alright," Illinois sighed. "We can have quality time after you get back."

"I'm gonna be gone for a month…"

"What? Why?"

"They want me to take pictures of everything. Families, animals, there's a parade that'll happen… I have to be there." You checked your phone. "And I my flight leaves soon, so I have to go now." You walked over to the couch and grabbed your suitcase, then back up to Illinois.

"Alright." He nodded. You gently kissed him, and pulled away all too soon for his liking.

"I love you! Goodbye!" You said as you walked past him to your car.

"Love you too…" he answered. You put your suitcase in the trunk and got into the driver's seat. You waved goodbye to Illinois as you pulled out of the driveway and headed to the airport.

Illinois stood at the doorway for a minute. So, he couldn't spend time with you. That was fine! You were a fantastic photographer, he couldn't blame people for wanting to hire you all the way from Brazil. He'd miss you a bit, but he'd be fine. I mean, you spent days, even weeks on end without him. He'd be completely fine.

--

Illinois was completely not fine. It had been three days since you left and he already felt like dying. How the hell did you last without him? More importantly, how was he supposed to survive without you?

The first day was probably the best one. He slept on the couch because of how tired he was. When he woke up in the morning, he went through the basics. He took a shower, washed his face, changed his clothes, brushed his teeth, and ate breakfast. He usually woke up before you, so he knew how to cook for himself. He was pretty awake when he got up, so he didn't make any coffee. He just made some of your chamomile tea. It was really good, he didn't know why he didn't try it before. He went through the rest of a pretty boring day. He watch TV, read a book, made lunch, watched some more TV, went through all of his trophies from adventures, made dinner, then fell asleep.

The second was a bit more chaotic. He was more tired that day than the first day, but he made tea instead of coffee again. He remembered you had told him that a brownie recipe you knew went very well with the tea, so he tried to make it. You were out of eggs, so he went to the store to buy some. Once he did, he got started on the brownies.

Now when I say he set the kitchen on fire, this dumbass set the kitchen on fucking fire.

He had made the batter and put it into a pan, and then into the oven. He decided to watch TV while he waited on the brownies. He landed on a Hallmark Christmas romance movie. That was a bad idea, because he fell asleep almost instantly.

He awoke to the smell of smoke and the alarm frantically beeping. He jumped up and ran into the kitchen. He swung the oven open and threw the extremely burnt baking onto the floor. He grabbed a nearby towel and waved at the air until the alarm stopped He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, noticing he was sweating.

"Well, that's unfortunate," he sighed. He looked at the time. 10:24. There was still time for brunch.

He decided to make an omelette for himself.

He made the omelette for the most part, and let it sit on the stove for a minute. He wanted to make sure it was just right. he walked over to the couch and sat down, deciding to rest his eyes for a minute. The brownie incident was very stressful. Yet again, instead of just sitting there, he fell asleep.

For the second time this same damn day, Illinois woke up to the smell of smoke and the fire alarm beeping like mad. this time, he didn't jump up because he didn't think it'd be that bad. he slowly walked into the kitchen and almost screamed when he saw that his omelet was currently on fire. He panicked, not knowing what to do, because you two had an electric stove. What was he supposed to do? Throw some water on it? He looked around for a moment before seeing the towel he had to use to wave the smoke away. He grabbed it and threw it on top of the piece of breakfast, patting it to make sure it died. After about a minute, he gently lifted the towel. The fire was out. He sighed and, again, waved the smoke from the smoke alarm to get it to stop beeping. Illinois quit trying to make breakfast and just took some of your cereal. He honestly thought that that was going to catch on fire as well, so he stayed a little bit away from it at all times. Once he finished his cereal and his tea, he went back to the couch and just collapsed. he decided that another quick nap was in order, given the chaos that happened that day.

The rest of the day was pretty calm. He watched TV, went to the store to buy some other food, made lunch, watched some more TV, read a book and got takeout for dinner because he didn't feel like cooking again.

The third day was the one where he finally started to feel the effects of you not being there. It was a Wednesday. You always woke up early on Wednesday. He wasn't sure why, and neither were you. But you always woke up at the same time as him and made breakfast. He always made the coffee before hand so you can be more awake. And that's exactly what he did. He woke up, went through the motions, went into the kitchen, and made coffee. He got two mugs from the pantry and set them down on opposite sides of the table. When eating breakfast, you two always sat across from each other so you could talk. Illinois poured coffee into both of the cups and sat down. He stared across from his seat at the table for a moment, seeing the empty chair, and realizing that you were, in fact, not here.

And then he broke down.

He missed you. Oh, God, he missed you so much. How long were you supposed to be going? A month? And how long have you been gone? 3 days? He wouldn't make it. He couldn't make it. He started to pace around the kitchen.

"Ok… ok… you're ok…" he told himself. "You've been away from them for a longer amount of time, you can handle a month."

But the thing about Illinois being away from you for long, long, long amounts of time was that he had something to do. He'd be on an adventure. He'd be in some temple ruins, or a cave, or something of the sort running for his life. But this time, you were the one with the job, and he had absolutely nothing to do. Illinois didn't have many friends, mostly because he adventured so much. He was honestly pretty surprised when you agreed to date him. Now he realized why you wanted to spend more time together.

Okay. Okay. This was fine. He just had to find something to do… What did normal people do when they were bored?

He went to the museum. It was pretty interesting, and they were doing a lecture on treasures that he had donated there. He figured that could be pretty fun. He soon found that trying to correct to the tour guide on every single thing he was saying was not the best thing to do, because he got kicked out.

The next day, he went to the zoo. He informs people on the different types of spiders and bats and bugs that lived in caves. Heated ventured for so long that he figured it would be smart to learn the kind of animals he'd come into contact with when he went somewhere. Everyone was very interested in it, until he decided to take a tarantula out of its enclosure. Again, he got kicked out.

Third time's a charm. The next day, he went to the park. He sat on a bench and read a book and watched the kids play on the playground. One kid walked up to him and asked him if he was in an adventurer.

"Why, yes I am," he said smugly, "do you want to be one when you grow up?"

"No, you just remind me of Indiana Jones," the child answered. Illinois' hand squeezed the book in anger.

"Well, could Indiana Jones do this?" He asked while unsheathing his gun. He shot a nearby tree a few times to make a smiley face. He smirked at the kid.

"Probably," they shrugged and walked away from him. He snarled.

"Fuckin' kids…" he mumbled. A parent had apparently called the police on him, because he ended up in jail. They told him he had a phone call, so he called Mark.

"Hey, Mark! So, uh… I'm in jail," he said, trying to keep his cool, "I need you to come get me…"

"Dammit!" Mark cursed.

"What's wrong?"

"I bet Wilford that you would get arrested a week after Y/N left." He explained. "He bet 4-5 business days…"

"Ha! Told you!" Illinois heard another voice from Mark's end of the line.

"Oh, shut up!" Mark yelled. "Listen, uh… I'll get there soon as I can. Bye." He said and hung up. Illinois sighed and slumped on a bench.

This was gonna be a long month…

--

Illinois had the most boring month of his entire fucking life. For the first half of it, he sat in his living room, watching romcoms and almost crying because he wanted to be lovey-dovey with you. Why should these assholes get to be together? They were cheating on the one girl's boyfriend! She can have two spouses, but he can't be with his one?

For the second half, Illinois stopped being such a pissy little fuck and actually did things. He learned how to play the guitar, he finished three books, and he painted a picture from a Bob Ross video.

It was awful.

He was so completely bored without you. He hadn't realized how much you'd improved his life up to that point. You two had figured out how to video call halfway through the month, but you were almost always busy or asleep when he was ready. It was horrible.

But now, it was over.

You got back today.

And Illinois was fucking elated.

He jumped into his car and went through three red lights to get there, not to mention he was going 50mph in a 40mph zone. This man was going to die before he was late. He didn't even give a shit he was 5 hours early, he was gonna fucking wait for you at the airport. He brought a blanket and snacks, he'd be fine.

He took a nap after an hour, and woke up three hours after that. For the next two hours, he looked at pictures of you and thought about what he'd do with you when you got back. Finally, the time came when your plane was supposed to land. He knew it'd be a bit after that, but he stuffed his blanket and leftover snacks in his backpack and ran up to where you were supposed to enter the airport. He didn't have a sign, which he probably should have, but he'd find you soon enough. He looked through the crowd of people exiting the plane. All he saw were old rich people and young rich people. He looked across the herd of people, searching for any hint of your suitcase. You had gotten annoyed with the fact that you kept mistaking yours for other people's, so he bought you a neon rainbow suitcase. That didn't seem to be very useful at this point in time. He felt a buzz on his thigh. Groaning, he checked his phone. It was a text from Mark.

Hey! It said, Is Y/N home yet?

Illinois growled.

That's what I'm looking for.

Tell me when you see them

Sure thing. Illinois shoved the phone back into his pants, continuing his search. He suddenly saw a flash of color out of the corner of his eye. He whipped his head to the side.

There you were, trudging your suitcase along the floor. Your hair was all over the place, you were dragging your feet, and even from where he was, he saw the bags under your eyes. You were a hot mess.

In his eyes, you were an angel on Earth.

He wanted to be patient and keep up his suave persona. He noticed himself bouncing in his spot a bit, a smile forming on his lips. If he waited any longer, he swore to God he was going to explode. He eventually decided it wasn't worth it, and dashing over to you.

You were so tired. You were so, so very tired. The people who hired you were so nice, but they never fucking slept. Anytime they did something, they wanted you to take a picture of it. Mostly because they'd just gotten married, and you could respect their enthusiasm, but holy shit. Not to mention the PARADE. You got no rest. None. You couldn't wait to get home and just relax with your boyfriend…

Speaking of which, wasn't he supposed to pick you up?

You saw something coming towards you in your peripheral vision and turned, only to see said boyfriend sprinting at you. You opened your mouth to scream, but the wind was knocked out of you by Illinois pulling you into the tightest hug you've ever experienced and you simply wheezed.

"Oh my God, I missed you so much," he nearly cried, "do not ever do that to me again, please…" in response, you coughed. He realized you were having trouble inhaling and loosed his grip. He didn't let go.

"I missed you too…" you wheezed. He stood holding you for a second. A couple of girls giggled as they walked past you two. You flushed.

"Illinois, you're embarrassing me…" you whined.

"Oh?" He asked, the smirk audible in his voice. He pulled out of the hug and crashed his lips against yours. You basically collapsed into it and he had to hold you up against his body. He pulled away after a minute. You sighed.

"Can we go home now?" You pleaded.

"Of course, darlin'! We gotta spend some time together!" He answered. You let out a soft whimper.

Looks like you weren't getting your rest anytime soon.

my phone's at 5% lololol.