#he seems to be coming down from his flare which could honestly be related to the antibiotics

[girlhorse]

i misread the follow up instructions so fingers crossed my vet can get us in for the checkup xray tomorrow!!! enzo only has 2 days of his antibiotics left.....almost free so long as xrays are clear!

[cher-rium]

Liquid fashioning Snake’s sneaking suit with his own flare.

I really enjoy Liquid as a character. I haven’t played all the games in the franchise quite yet but I’ve finished MGS1.

Here are some headcanons for if Liquid lived through Foxdie or wasn’t targeted by it in the first place:

-He honestly really reminds me of Dio Brando (another fictional fave of mine) so I think he’d have a similar relationship as Dio did with Jonathan. A burning hatred accompanied some level of respect. Maybe Liquid, after being defeated by Snake, would have some respect for him but still bicker and have a corny little rivalry. 

-Honestly, I think he’d share a lot of personality traits with Dio! Just very… not intimidating.

-Since we’re still on the topic of JOJO, I imagined him having hair closer to REO Speedwagon? Like in my head I was like “yeah Liquid has slightly wavy/curly hair” and then I looked up reference images for this drawing and i sharted a little. His hair is so FLAT. I think there should be an appropriate middle-ground where his hair is still straight but has waaayyy more volume similarly to his little PS1 model.

-Liquid seems like the type to hold grudges so I don’t think there’s going to be much forgiving besides tolerance.

-It’d be really comical if Liquid accompanied Snake and Otacon and they’re just dragging around this man-child who keeps complaining and bragging. 

-I intentionally avoided giving Liquid any of the gear that Snake has on his suit. I think Liquid would purposely try to out-do Snake at every turn, thus going into missions naked so he can brag when things go well. 

-However when things don’t go well, I think he’d be like the average Overwatch player and just blame his teammates or bad luck. I feel like he’s the kind of guy to make REALLY shitty decisions in fights just for the sake of looking/feeling cool and then getting his ass beat. 

-And then after a whooping he comes back down to earth and actually does something useful 💀 (or Snake saves him)

-I know the sneaking suit has the shirt for a reason but, bro had his tits out on shadow moses, he can withstand the cold.

-I gave him grey hairs and a few more wrinkles than he initially appeared with to account for his aging.

-I can kindaaaa see him applying black eyeliner to his waterline. I also added really long eyelashes since I think he’d slay mascara too !

-I don’t think he and Otacon would get along at all initially. My thought is that Otacon tries to introduce him to anime or Japanese media as a whole to try to find something they can both enjoy. Personally, I really see Otacon being into your typical high school or magical girl anime and Liquid would be super-turned off from it. So instead they’d watch like Cowboy Bebop, Yu Yu Hakusho, Berserk, Ghost in the Shell, AKIRA, etc. Stuff that might be appealing to some random guy.

-It’s kinda hard to speak on anything relating to Snake cuzzzz uhhhh y’know I haven’t actually played most of the games– I’m particularly referring to the one where Liquid is a kid! (WHICH im really tempted to play rn in the middle of MGS2 since I REALLY wanna see Lil Liquid). That would give a lot more context ‘cuz I’m currently learning about everything relating to the other games via fanart and discussion posts here on Tumblr 💀

-Idk maybe they can bond on shared trauma man i got no clue

-Raiden? Uh? Okay say he’s [Liquid] involved in MGS2 (or at least the start of it since I haven’t gotten very far in): I feel like Raiden would be really annoyed by Liquid. Just a crazy dumbass making things more stressful than they already are. 

-I didn’t really draw it here but I think Liquid would have downturned eyes while Snake would have upturned eyes. Idk like if I could show the facial structure in my head, Liquid’s sitting face would be really miserable looking. Snake’s would be resting furrowed and seem more intimidating.

-Don’t know much about Solidus and Liquid (for some reason the only interactions I see between them in fanart is either them being shipped together or Liquid about to violently assault the old fuck) but do you know that image of Spiderman getting dunked on by Venom??? Ok so I think that’s them 😭 As soon as Liquid knows there’s an even better clone out there he’d just have a fuckin’ temper tantrum like Muscle Man from Regular Show and make it his mission to dunk on that old man.

-I think Liquid would CONSTANTLY smell like fuckin’ sweat despite literally being shirtless 24/7

-If Liquid were in the modern day he’d smell like 72 gallons of axe body spray

-On nice occasions he would smell like 72 gallons of cologne 

-He’d be a gym bro for sure

-Carrying around protein shakes, talking about gains, and crying about how his stocks are plummeting 

-His hair is definitely a little greasy

-I honestly think he’d have trouble growing facial hair in comparison to the other clones

-I feel like he’s the kinda guy to sit in a corner of a dark room and stare at Otacon to scare the ever-loving shit out of him. 

-Also seems like the kind of guy to have trouble sleeping at night so he just roams like a FNAF animatronic. 

-Seems like the kind of guy to ask Otacon what he’s doing out of boredom and then immediately regret it and space out.

-Ok so I had a thought. I think instead of smoking like Snake and Big Boss do, I think Liquid would drink.

-Y’know the room you find Otacon in MGS1? Where you fight funny ninja robo man? Ok so I think Liquid specifically asked for Otacon to be put into there so that everytime he switches to the security cameras in that room he just laughs at his goofy ass.

-Seems like the type of guy to ask “can i put on your glasses?” and then proceed to act like he just got shot by a firing squad from how blind you are (he does this to Otacon for sure)

-I’d think that Liquid’s ego is so inflated that he’d lack bitchess due to the “I’m too good for them” mentality 

-Upon seeing Ocelot I’d like to think that Liquid would bitch-slap him.

-Seems like the kind of fella to enjoy a meal consisting of dinosaur chicken nuggets, crinkle-cut fries, and mac n’ cheese.

Alright that’s enough headcanons goo-bye.

[rassvetsky]

Hello hello my dear :D

I love your writing so i HAD to send a request! This is probably super niche and if you dont feel comfortable writing it thats COMPLETELY okay!<3

So i have a skin disorder that makes red spots appear ALL over my skin and it makes it feel itchy and rough(now in other fanfic its normally that the characters talk about "readers soft skin" and sadly i cant relate to that)

So i was wondering if you could write Sam Wilson x fem! Or Non binary! Reader with a skin disorder :D what prompt you use, if its nsfw or sfw and how long it is, is completely up to you! I would just love to relate to a fanfic again :,)

Much love <3

thank you so much for sending this and i hope i did it at least some justice, because i've been incredibly uncreative and unmotivated for a long time now— i too suffer from a skin condition mostly triggered by stress, which makes the skin of my shoulders and upper back very bumpy (and damn it leaves scars each time) so this was insightful to think about,, most fics aren't that inclusive unfortunately (which is nobody's fault!!) but anyway, i hope you have a wonderful day, and thank you again for dragging me out of my void!!

Fifty Bucks

sam wilson x reader

"It's impossible to feel inconvenienced by anything when Sam Wilson is your personal stand-up comedian and therapist at the same time. He might demand fifty bucks, though."

[1k] | honestly not much, super short and quick anyway, fluff, reader has a skin condition as lovely anon mentioned above, swearing, sam is a blessing and not in disguise at all

reblog and/or like for a kiss, feedback much appreciated! not proofread.

You should've seen this coming.

But it's like your body and your mind operate on completely different terms sometimes, with no connection to one another whatsoever. It's impossible to control how your body might react to something that brews in your mind, and while for some it's not an issue to keep focus on; people that are blessed with one tiny little add-on to their existence like you have to be extra careful sometimes.

And good lord, you can never be careful enough.

As Sam paced around in your apartment, trying to keep your mind off of work stress and the general adulthood obstacles through a sacred quest of finding a show to watch before you could come back to the living room; you were mentally face-palming upon the sight of a red spot on the course of forming on your shoulder, and a few more down your arms. You can't control everything that happens around you, of course, but God, why is it that everyone else seems to be better at handling stress?

When you came back to the living room with a slight pout on your lips, fingers tugging on the material of your t-shirt to reveal a portion of your arms, Sam is perplexed. Remote control in his palm, he turned around to look at you, gaze flickering between your hand and your face. "Everything okay?" he asked, pointing towards the snacks laid out on the coffee table with the remote control. "It better be. I didn't pay for all those for nothing, you better cheer the hell up."

That pulled a chuckle out of you as you shrugged, stepping closer to him with a sigh, forcing the sight into his point of view. "Flaring up a bit, I think," a soft breath left you. "Figures. I was beginning to expect it at this point."

"What's that? Allergies?" he asked, following suit when you took a seat on the couch, relaxing right next to you. "Is it the lobster? Can't be, because I marinated that thing so good that people with seafood allergy could risk death to have a taste. I'm serious."

"No, it just happens." you chuckled softly, heaving a deep sigh before leaning back comfortably. "There isn't much that I can do about it now, it's just gonna itch and drive me crazy."

Sam hummed as a response, before pressing 'play' on the first comfort show that he came across, mind occupied with this newfound information. It must be annoying enough to go through, he thought, figuring that he shouldn't ask many questions— but he's a curious individual, he couldn't help it even if he tried. "Isn't there anything, like— like an ointment or something for 'em?" your slow nod caused him to hum, the intro of the show seemingly catching your attention, but not his, surprisingly, considering the fact that he often possessed the attention span of a goldfish. "Does it bother you?"

"It's not a pretty sight when the timing is wrong," you mumbled while reaching for a pack of sour candies on the coffee table before leaning back on the couch again. The cushions were soft against your back, but not as soft as your bed— which you were beginning to miss. "But I feel like I've gotten used to it, you know? Like, I learn more about how my skin reacts to certain things as time goes by and, well, I'm trying to manage it better."

"Not a pretty sight my ass," he whispered under his breath, causing you to laugh— along with him. "You could have Shrek skin for all I care. Or Avatar skin, whatever fictional world you're into— you'd still be one hell of a sight."

"Shrek skin? C'mon, you're just saying that."

"Watch it, I get real aggressive about affection," a pair of strong arms pulled you to his side and you giggled against the material of his shirt, trying to slap his arms away from you. "God was like, damn, a full package. Gotta balance it out somehow."

It was incredible, how fast Sam could get you laughing. But there you were, laughing at his antics with the show long-forgotten on the screen, his arms secure around you and a pretty smile on his lips. He was a man of acceptance, after all, and you were sure that given the chance, he could restore world peace in a week with his delicious cookouts and wonderfully thought speeches.

"Shut the hell up," you chuckled, shaking your head. "It doesn't even bother me, it's my own skin. Just makes me wish that I was a bit luckier."

"That's a good thing, you know, being alright with it." his fingers found your hair then, giving the area a few loving pats before carding them through your locks. It was as if his tone changed when he started to speak again, and you'd recognize that speech pattern anywhere. "Health-wise, accepting and embracing something kinda works like a placebo, you know? Whether it's a mental thing or, you know, something physical— when you're like, alright, I'm doing this and that to cure this thing, but at the same time, I'm not gonna be all like, damn this thing—"

"God, not one of these speeches again—"

"Listen, you ungrateful brat," his faux offense made you laugh again, as you watched him press his palm against his chest where his heart is supposed to be. "People don't pay therapists for nothing."

"I know, I know." you cuddled onto him more. "M'sorry, go on?"

"I will, for fifty bucks."

"FIFTY?!" you raised your head from his shoulder to look up at him, eyes wide in shock.

"Do you have any idea how expensive therapy is?! Thirty at most, pay up or shut up!"

[harrywritingsbyme]

The Shark Stuffie

Anonymous Said: my life’s been pretty shit recently and I’m so stressed rn and my anxiety is through the roof meaning I can’t sleep either..could you maybe write something small about harry comforting you and coaxing you to sleep with sweet coos💕

Based Off Of This Ask

And This One 

A/N: I feel like I haven't written some fluff in a LONG ass time...like the last pure fluff piece I wrote was all the way back in the beginning of January. That’s lowkey due to my vibes being off, my lack of motivation to do just about anything, and the fact that my writing schedule has been rearranged too many times. Either way tho...I hope y'all like this fic, it’s rlly cute and softtt and it’s definitely relatable for many of us. Enjoyy🙃

3.5k wordss

You had a bit of an obsession with animal documentaries. There was just something about them that just drew you in and captivated you. Whenever you watched the films or shows, you were always glued to the screen and utterly fascinated with the creatures being displayed before your eyes. Whenever you watched them with Harry, he’d always tease you about your obsession and being completely glued to the screen, jokingly saying that you were more in love with the animals than you were with him. Which couldn’t have been the farthest thing from the truth of course. But in true Y/n fashion, instead of just shooting his far fetched claims down, you would always tease him back; saying that you were in fact madly in love with whatever animal was on the screen at that moment, and that if he wanted to reclaim his number one spot on your list of loves, he’d have to put in some serious work. And then over the following couple of minutes, the two of you would go on to further the banter, trying to land the snarkiest little remark and “win”...even though it wasn’t even a competition to begin with. Sometimes you two were able to go a good while going back and forth on who you loved the most, Harry or the animals and their documentaries. Other times, and most times for that matter, you two would just burst into a fit of laughs before snuggling up together for the rest of the documentary. You of course rewinding it to play back anything you missed when your attention was on Harry. 

Which speaking of Harry, he thought your obsession with animals and the documentaries was the most precious and adorable thing thing in the entire world. He couldn’t (and never wanted to for that matter) get the image of your face lighting up when you watched the documentaries or discovered that a new one had come out for you to watch. He loved how happy and at ease you were when you watched the animal documentaries. On top of the fact that Harry loved how happy you got when watching the documentaries, Harry was slowly growing a little bit of an obsession with the documentaries too. And because of that, not only did he suggest making you guys’ date nights animal documentaries nights, but he also began to feed your obsession by means of plushies. If you two watched a documentary on giraffes, he’d be on the hunt for the cutest little giraffe plushie the entire week after and leading up to you guys’ next date night. And if you were going on and on about a particular animal he’d try to find the cutest plushy to get for you to add to your collection. Most times Harry was able to get lucky and find the cutest plushy for the animal you were obsessed with at the moment. But there were also times where he wasn’t so lucky. Either the animal was too exotic to be in stuffed animal form, or it wasn’t cute enough for Harry’s liking. He took his job of feeding your animal obsession very seriously. 

But either way, plushy or no plushy, you were just happy to enjoy and share your love of animal documentaries with your boyfriend who you loved even more. And Harry, whether or not he’d be able find the perfect plushy, was always going to do his very best to put an even bigger smile on your face. Even if it meant having to get a little creative at times. 

Now for the first time in the five or so months you’ve been obsessed with animals and watching the documentaries, you were stuck on one animal; Sharks. You weren’t quite sure as to what was so fascinating about the incredibly deadly creature but you couldn’t get enough of them. You were watching documentary after documentary on them and you even went as far as to find and watch old shark week episodes. You were quite obsessed to say the least. For the past, just about two weeks when you and Harry had your weekly animal documentary night/date night, you’d turn on something about sharks. Which prompted Harry to go out and find the perfect plushies to add to your collection. He managed to find the cutest one online the thought you’d love and he immediately placed his order so that it would arrive as soon as possible. While he waited for that stuffed animal to arrive, Harry figured you’d be onto the next animal. But no, the following week you were still obsessed with sharks. Which meant that a knot her shark plushy would be coming your way in no time. So once again, Harry went back on the “prowl” for the best shark plushies out there, spending the better part of his Wednesday evening looking for the perfect one. 

After looking through the pages of plushies, hoping to find one that he could buy in-store, Harry finally found the one. It was a fairly big shark plushy, and from the photos it looked to be pretty cute, and it seemed to be very soft. All of Harry’s boxes were checked off. But the ultimate selling point for it though, was the fact that it was weighted. See, you had really bad anxiety. Your mind was constantly racing, you were constantly worrying about things and what could go wrong, and you couldn’t stop overanalyzing everything and the decision you made. It was hard for you to get rest, even when you were exhausted and in dire need of a good nights sleep. And your preexisting anxiety was only exacerbated by school. One of the things that made your mind and body all calm down in those moments where you were completely overloaded and inundated with anxiety and stress was your weighted blanket. It kind of forced you to take time out for yourself and relax, and feel comfortable, taking your mind off of the stresses that were fueling the fire of your anxiety. It was honestly like a much needed big hug and was absolutely perfect when you couldn’t exactly have Harry, your ultimate anxiety and stress reliever. 

And on the topic of school, you were drowning. You were having a very rough week to say the least. Your to do list grew longer and longer as the days passed, and you were pretty sure your anxiety had reached an all time high and was on the path to reaching another record high. This week you had so many academic responsibilities you had to take care of, on top of all the things you had to do and wanted to do when it came to your personal life. You felt like every time you got one thing accomplished, two or three more things were thrown at you and demanded your attention. No matter how hard you tried to put things on a schedule and properly manage your time, a sudden wrench would be thrown into your plans and screw everything up; making your life increasingly difficult to navigate. Just the idea of school caused your anxiety to flare up. So to add everything you had to do for school this week along with your other responsibilities on top of that was quite much for you to handle. You didn’t even have the time, let alone the energy, to even have a proper breakdown and let it all out. You’d simply shed a few tears, take a deep breath, take a sip of your water, and push your feelings of being overwhelmed and tired to the side so that you could get shit done. The only things that brought you some type of relief this week were your weighted blanket, Harry’s comforting words, and you guys’ Friday night date night. And the plushies Harry told you he had for you.

When Harry spoke to you throughout the week and listened to how your week was going and how horrible it was going for you, he made it his mission to give you everything you needed when you came over on Friday night so that you can throw the terrible week you had away and have a relaxing and stress-free weekend. Once Friday finally arrived for you two, Harry spent most of the day just getting everything ready for when you came over. He went out and picked up all your favorite snacks, food, and anything else you liked, along with the weighted shark plushy and a new weighted blanket for you. You on the other hand were laser-focused on your school work and anything else that needed to be taken care of. You wanted to get everything done so that you’d have to spend no time whatsoever over the weekend doing anything besides being with Harry and relaxing your entire being. The only thing keeping you going today was the weekend Harry had planned for you. That’s it. And once you finally cleared your plate later on in the day, you dashed right over to Harry. You couldn’t wait any longer to watch your shark documentary with Harry and your new, no doubt, shark plushies.

 When you get to Harry’s place, you practically break the door down and you nearly knocked Harry off his feet from how you ran in and immediately nestled yourself into him. It was nearly five minutes before the two of you even verbally greeted each other. At that moment, you just wanted to be held. Harry was the sure-fire way to calm you down when you were going through a major bout of anxiety. His presence alone made you feel safe and okay. You had your arms locked around his midsection, keeping your grasp on him as tight as possible. Almost as if you were afraid that he was going to float away from you. And Harry didn’t mind this one bit, nor did he hesitate to wrap you up in his arms and just hold you just as tight and close to him. 

“Hi” You mumble into the soft fabric of Harry’s hoodie, breaking the silence between you two.

“Hi baby” He softly replies to you, squeezing you a little bit. 

“Missed you this week.” You continue on, relaxing a bit more into Harry. 

“I missed you too sweets. You had a pretty rough week huh?” Harry coos, continuing to hold you and stroke your back. 

“Mhm…m’so tired.” You sigh. 

“Well how about we get you upstairs and in a nice warm shower to get you relaxed a bit while I bring everything up. And then we can watch one of your documentaries. How does that sound sweets?” Harry proposes. 

“Sounds amazing.” You agree, loosening your grip on Harry in the process. 

“Then let’s get you upstairs” He then proceeds to loosen his grip around you as well before guiding you from the front door and up the stairs. Once you’re all squared away and in the shower, Harry moves his setup in the living room upstairs in the bedroom, hiding the little gifts he got for you on the floor on his side of the bed. Harry also lays out some clothes for you to throw on. You had your own drawer and everything, but even though that was the case, you still went right to his clothes. So Harry didn’t even bother going through your drawer for anything. After laying out your clothes and everything you needed for when you’re all done with your shower, Harry orders what you told him you wanted for dinner before you got in the shower. Which ends up being a good thirty minutes. It was just so nice to have some time to yourself and not have to stress or worry about something you had to get done. It was such a relief to be able to just stand under the running hot water and just not have to think. The steaming hot water melted the caked-on stress from the week and just rinsed it away, making you feel so much better than you did when you first walked through the door. 

It was also a relief to walk out of the bathroom and into your boyfriend's bedroom with everything waiting for you. When you stepped out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom, you stepped into this warm and cozy atmosphere Harry created for you. The bed is all warm and comfy, and extremely inviting. He had your clothes and all your post-shower stuff laid out for you on the bed. Harry even had one of your favorite candles lit on the bedside table. The tv was even on with an array of animal documentaries for you to pick from. Up until he had to rush downstairs to get the takeout he ordered for you two, Harry helped you get all settled in bed. And when he comes back upstairs, this time with the food you (and your stomach) were beyond excited for, you were all done getting ready and tucked right under the covers waiting for him to come back.  

Harry quickly shuffles across the room to sit the food down onto the bed before lifting the little basket he filled to the brim with your favorite little snacks up onto the bed, making you even happier than you were already, and hopping into bed with you. He then hands you the remote, giving you the power to choose whichever documentary you wanted to watch, along with a small peck to your cheek, marking the official start to you guys’ date night/relaxing weekend. While you and Harry watch the first documentary of the night together, you’re intently watching the screen just like always as you happily stuff your mouth with the delicious food in front of you. As you watched the documentary, Harry on the other hand couldn’t help but sit back and just watch you. He was so happy to see you all relaxed and peaceful, opposed to being all stressed out and anxiety-ridden like you were when you first came over.

By the end of the first film, you and Harry are completely done with your food and have moved on to clearing off the bed so that you two can cuddle and possibly fall asleep during the next one. Once the bed is all clear and free for you and Harry to move around, you two immediately move in closer and get nice and comfortable in each other before starting the next shark-related documentary.

“Thank you so much for all of this Harry.” You thank him, breaking your focus on the tv and shifting it to Harry.

“Anything for you sweets” Harry coos, turning his attention away from the tv as well. “I hate it when you’re going through it, especially when I cant be there to help you get through. So I just wanted to give you a nice relaxing and calm weekend for you to just feel better.” He explains.

“I love you Harry.” You hum, lifting your head up from his chest to peer up at him. You weren’t able to fully comprehend why and how you even deserved such an amazing boyfriend who always wanted to make you happy when you were sad and not doing okay, and even happier when you were already beaming. He was one of the best things in your life, and one of the few that didn’t stress you out. 

“I love you too baby.” Harry whispers, looking down at you and locking eyes with yours. The same way you felt like Harry’s mere existence made everything at least feel better, Harry felt the exact same way. So whenever you were going through it and not doing okay, Harry didn’t take that lightly. He always made sure to do everything in his power to get you to a better place. 

When Harry puckers his lips in your direction, you immediately lock yours with them, sucking you both into a love-filled little kiss. It was nice and soft for the atmosphere you and Harry were in, but it wasn’t incredibly slow, nor it did it feel rushed or like it was lasting forever. It was perfect.

“I got you something baby!” Harry whispers excitedly upon pulling away from your lips, tapping at your sides for you to sit up.

“You told me they were plushies.” You reply, excited to see what he picked for you this time. Harry always managed to get you the cutest little stuffed animals so you were really excited to see what he got you this time. 

“Yup! And here’s the first one.” Harry says, leaning down to pick up and reveal to you the regular plushy he found for you the first time.

“Oh my goodness! That’s too adorable!” You coo, holding up and looking at the adorable little shark Harry got for you. It was absolutely amazing and you were so so so excited to see the next one. 

“Ready for the next one? I think you’re gonna like this one the most.” Harry says, causing you to immediately nod your head in response. “M’gonna need you to close your eyes too.” He instructs.

Once your eyes are closed, Harry leans down and picks up the weighted and fairly big shark plushy before sitting it in your lap. He then grabs the new weighted blanket he got for you and sits it between you both before instructing you to open your eyes.

When you see what Harry placed into your lap, you could instantly feel the tears welling up in your eyes. It was like Harry knew exactly what you wanted and needed. You absolutely loved your weighted blanket and you always used it, even when you weren’t in need of something to calm your anxiety. You also loved plushies, even before you were heavily into animals and Harry was finding you all sorts of plushies. They brought you some much-needed serotonin whenever you were feeling down and they were your little cuddle buddies. So to have a weighted one, a combination of everything that never failed to calm your anxiety down was absolutely amazing and you couldn’t have been more happy and appreciative. That’s why you just couldn’t help it when you started crying. You wasted absolutely no time wrapping Harry in the biggest hug, thanking him over and over for the plushy. But it wasn’t long until you just broke down. 

“You have no idea how much this means to me, I had such a horrible week.” You sob into him.

“I know baby.” He coos, stroking your back as you cried. Even though he hated it when you cried, he knew that you always felt lighter whenever you just let it all out.

“I had panic attacks every day and I didn’t get enough sleep and I didn’t eat much either and I didn’t have you there for cuddles. It was so bad.” You cry, your voice cracking at the end, making Harry only tighten his arms around you. He knew it was a bad week for you, but he didn’t know it was this bad. You only told him but so much over the phone.

“Well I’m here now baby and I’m gonna take good care of you and get you back and feeling better.” Harry promises, continuing to hold you as you cry into him. You were so vulnerable right now and he just wanted you, his baby, to feel better. 

As you continued to cry, you continued to mumble and talk about just how bad your week was and how much he was doing for you helped you feel better. Eventually, you ran out of words and the energy to speak or even cry. So Harry began to whisper sweet little nothings and reassurance that you’re going to be okay and that he’s going to take care of you. And as he did this, Harry could feel your body heave less and less from the crying and the little hiccups that came along with it. Once you’ve calmed down a little and as the sleep begins to overtake you, Harry then unwraps an arm from around you and reaches over to turn out the light and blow out the candle before pulling the covers higher up over you two. He also pulled the plushy and still folded blanket up as well, just in case you wanted either of them.

 “Please don’t watch without me.” You mumble, your voice all nasally and filled with sleep. You were no longer tightly wrapped around Harry, but instead resting on his chest.

“I won’t darling. I just paused it so that we can go back and watch it later on when you’re nice and rested.” Harry replies through a soft chuckle continuing to stroke your back. 

“Pinky promise.” You mumble back, lazily lifting your pinky up from under the covers for Harry to hook his around.

“Pinky promise.” He replies softly, bringing his pinky in to hook it around yours, sealing his promise. “Now get some rest baby.” He whispers, pulling your still intertwined hands down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

Masterlist

[akingdomofswordsandstories]

Unrequited

azriel (acotar) x reader

Summary: takes place during acofas, you and Azriel are mates but he doesn’t know it yet, angst, fluff, and everything in between

*Also this is my first imagine ever so I'm sorry if it sucks lol! There will be a part 2 to this, but I am still working on it!!

word count: 3927

---------------------------------

The winter solstice was in a few days and you weren’t sure what to get some of the inner circle. You walked briskly down the streets of the Rainbow, chilled to the bone due to the wind. You had made the dumb mistake of rushing out of the townhouse - to avoid any questions of where you were going - without taking your scarf. Your current outfit, which was a chunky knit blue sweater with leggings and boots, wasn’t enough to keep the chill away. But the cold wasn’t the most important thing on your mind. You had already bought presents for Rhys, Feyre, Amren, and Elain, but that left Cassian, Mor, and Azriel. Mor and Cass would be pretty easy to buy for, but you put it off knowing they would look through your room trying to find their solstice gift. But Azriel, that would be much harder.

Every waking hour, the shadowsinger haunted your thoughts. Something you had come to conclude was unrequited.

You had realized the mating bond between you two before he did.

It had clicked a few months ago while on a diplomatic mission. The aftermath of Hybern had left things chaotic, and if you were being honest, it still was. Rhys decided to send Cassian, Mor, Azriel, and you to travel to some of the other courts to bring back reports on the recovery after the war. However, traveling did have some dangers. While you were on your way back to Velaris from the Winter Court, your group was ambushed by a group of Hybern soldiers who had been hiding out in the mountains. Had it not been for Azriel’s wings shielding you from the initial arrows, you would’ve surely been dead, and that’s when it clicked for you. But like an idiot, you didn’t say anything.

You had thought if the bond had clicked for you, it would've clicked for Azriel too. You realized your mistake when Azriel hadn’t acknowledged any change between you two. You hoped that he would figure it out in the coming weeks, but he didn’t. You knew the same sort of situation happened with feyre and rhys so you still held out some hope. But as the months went by, and you realized the bond still hadn’t clicked for Azriel and it felt too late to tell him.

At least that was the excuse you made up. Truly, you were also afraid of the rejection that could have followed. You weren’t a fool, you knew him and Elain had some sort of connection, and that shattered your dreams even more. The possibility that he wouldn’t accept the mating bond to be with the fair skinned, doe eyed fae. Everytime Azriel was in the same room as Elain, she was the only thing he would pay attention to. During gatherings, you would plaster on a smile and act as if you were happy, but Cassian and Mor, your best friends, could sense your discomfort. They tried to ask you about it, but seeing as you would shut down anything they said, they decided not to pry too much. Amren ended up figuring out the source of your discomfort had to do with Azriel, but kept your secret until you would be ready to share it.

You came to the conclusion that distancing yourself from him would be the best option, so that's what you did.

You walked down the street till you got to one of the finest seamstresses is Velaris. Since you were an artist like Feyre, you decided to draw out a dress and have it made for Mor. The color was blood red, her signature. It was a silk slip dress that would come down to her mid-lower calf and it would be embroidered with a brilliant gold thread. You drew out a pattern of the sun, stars, and moon, which you hoped she would like. To go along with Mor’s dress, you got a jeweler to make a custom necklace and bracelet set to go with it. You designed more dainty jewelry that had gold stars with diamonds, since she was a dreamer.

You decided to design Cassian’s gift as well, creating a beautiful silver and black dagger with a moonstone on the hilt. It was a beautiful dagger, but you also made sure it was usable, because you would hate for it to go to waste. To add onto the combat theme, you also decided to buy him new fighting leathers with touches of red embroidery to match his siphons. Lastly, you bought Cassian a bottle of fae wine, which definitely wouldn't last long.

The last thing you got for all three of you was a friendship necklace. Although that sounds corny, the two of them had become such a positive force in your life and you couldn’t imagine life without them. Keeping with the celestial theme for the friendship necklaces, you bought a sun, a moon, and a star. The sun for Cassian, the moon for Mor, and the star for you. Although they are opposites in some ways, all three need each other, just like the three of you needed each other.

Now that you had gotten Mor’s and Cassian’s solstice gifts figured out, it was onto Azriel’s gift. You honestly had no clue what to get him. Due to distancing yourself, you weren’t sure if there was something that he wanted. You were positively stumped. Lucky for you though, you ended up spotting Mor in another shop a few stores down from where you were, most likely getting the rest of her solstice gifts. You decided to sneak up on her as a friendly prank. Grabbing her shoulders, you yelled in her ear, making her jump.

“Oh mother above, it’s just you, y/n! You scared the life out of me” Mor said.

“Doing some last minute shopping?” you asked. “I could ask you the same thing”. Giving her a playful smack on the arm, the corners of your mouth curled upward, even the simplest remark from her could make you smile.

The two of you were currently standing in front of a jewelry shop, looking at the collections of necklaces and earrings through the window. “Wow” you breathed out “These are all so beautiful”

“Indeed they are, although they’re quite pricey”

“How pricey is pricey?”

She whispered the amount in your ear and you stopped breathing for a second, “Holy Mother wow, that is quite the price tag. At least we can admire it from a far”, you laughed out. Even though you got a very generous salary from Rhys, you still felt guilty spending so much money on materialistic things.

After a moment you said, “Actually, since you’re here, I do need help finding a solstice gift for Azriel”, softening your voice at the end, “Any ideas?” you asked, drawing out the syllables.

“Well, I always get Azriel some cool towels, clothing, or a dagger!” Mor said. A small scoff came out of my mouth as I shook my head and raised my eyebrows. “Fine!” she exclaimed, “I may have overheard him needing a new leather sheath for Truth Teller.” grumbling towards the end. “Oh that sounds great, thank you for the help! Now let’s go off to the closest leather goods store and find a sheath!”.

“y/n! I still have shopping to do” a scowl appearing on her face. “Fine, I guess I’ll just call Cassian, cause his judgement might be better than yours, when it comes to knife related things of course” you said, baiting her.

“Ugh, I hate you y/n”

“I hate you too Mor”

“Fine, let's get going before I change my mind” she grumbled. Then we took off down the streets of the Rainbow to find a sheath.

The task was easier said than done, for you at least. Being indecisive and a major over thinker, you had looked through close to 100 sheaths, but none of them seemed good enough to hold the blade that Azriel never let anyone else touch. Except Elain.

While you were lost in your thoughts, you laid your y/c eyes on the perfect sheath. It had a bright cobalt blue stitching to match Az’s siphons. Along the tip and lining the top of the leather was a thin coat of silver plating with little sapphires embedded in the metal. You quickly snatched it up and paid a hefty price for it, but it was perfect.

“Thank god you finally picked one, it felt like we were in that store for centuries”. Mor sighed, probably a sigh of relief for getting out of the store, “But y/n, it’s perfect, I know Azriel will love it”

“Do you really think so? I just want it to be the perfect gift and I’m scared he won’t like it because what if it’s too simplistic and what if-”

“Hey! It's perfect! Don’t stress too much y/n. And for the record, I think that you’re an amazing gift giver - the amount of thought you put into gifts make it all the better.”

You could feel a blush creeping up your cheeks and mumbled a small thank you.

“Anyway while we’re here do you need to get anything to go with your solstice outfit?”

“Oh Actually, I was so stressed about getting everyone’s solstice gift that I forgot to buy my dress” your voice falling off at the end. You felt yourself being yanked to a harsh stop and the saw Mor’s face staring at yours, mouth gaping and eyes wide.

“Are you crazy?? Solstice is in 3 days and you still don’t have anything??? Oh honey, our shopping isn’t done yet.” And with that statement you found yourself being pulled into the nearest dress shop. After trying on nearly 20 dresses you finally found the perfect one, which Mor approved. It was a light blue silk dress that was more fitted at the top but flared down at your waist. It had a cowl neckline, a slit going up the side to the mid upper thigh, and accentuates your curves beautifully and has a slight shimmer to it. You looked ethereal in it

---------------------------------

After your exhausting day of shopping, you couldn’t wait to get out of the cold. You swiftly walked back to the townhouse. Once inside you made your way to your room to set down the gifts, change your clothes, and grab your book. Then you quietly headed down to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea and sat on the couch to read. The house was quiet since all of the others decided to go to Rita’s tonight. You decided to stay home for some much needed relaxation. You opened your book and started reading. After a few hours, you felt your eyes drooping and eventually, sleep consumed you.

The loud noise of the front door caused you to stir and your eyes fluttered open. You were too exhausted to look so you just laid your head back down and tried to go to sleep. You could hear Mor whispering something and then felt yourself being lifted off the couch and being held close to a chest with your blanket still draped on you.

“Cass?” you whispered hoarsely along with a string of incoherent words

You heard a slight laugh “Not Cass but It’s ok, go back to sleep”. Then you felt yourself being gently placed on your bed and the sleep hit you before you could mutter a thank you.

---------------------------------

The sun was setting towards the sea as you sat in the sitting room of the town house. You were in your blue silk dress with a glass of wine in your hand. Rhys and Feyre were by the mantel, quietly talking while Mor and Amren were across the room. Near the window I saw Elain, and from the corner of my eye I could see Azriel making his way towards her. My face fell but I quickly plastered on a smile, not wanting to concern anyone. Especially since today was also Feyre’s birthday and we had planned a surprise for her. Feyre thought she could slip her birthday past us, but we hadn’t forgotten. After a few minutes, Cassian made his way from the kitchen with the enormous cake.

You floated towards Feyre and gave her arm a light squeeze. “Happy Birthday, make a wish before the candles melt!”

She blew out the candles and then we ate cake before opening up the presents.

---------------------------------

Rhys snapped his fingers and piles of brightly wrapped bags and boxes filled up the sitting room. Amren was the first to open her presents. Naturally, everyone got her something jewelry related. Amren opened mine and you saw a wide smile set across her face, she picked up the diamond necklace and nodded a ‘thank you’ your way. You returned the gesture back, a small smile forming on your face.

Next, Cassian handed Mor her present from him and she pulled out a-. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. He bought her red lingerie. Your face turned slightly red, but the Mor said “Don’t let him fool you: he couldn’t think of a damn thing to get me, so he gave up and asked me outright. I gave him precise orders. For once in his life, he obeyed them.”

Then, you heard one sharp knock at the door.

Nesta.

You saw Cassian tense up a bit. Nesta walked in, linking arms with Elain. She got a glass of wine before heading to sit in a chair in the back of the room. The silence was deafening. Finally Varian started talking and the present opening resumed.

From Amren, you received a new calligraphy set. It was so beautiful and you loved it. From Rhys, you got some books. It was perfect since you loved to read, and they were ones that you had been wanting to read for a long time. From Feyre, you received a painting as well as a new paint brush kit.

Cassian made his way to you and set a gift down in your lap. You opened the dark blue box that Cassian had placed in your lap. He had gotten you a sky blue hardbound journal with a gold embossed star on it. You desperately needed a new one, and this was perfect. You walked over and gave him a hug, whispered “Thank you, I love it.”.

Next you opened Mor’s present. You nearly choked when you saw what she got you and your whole face heated up. She got you a matching navy blue lingerie set like the one Cassian bought her.

“Yeah, I wasn’t too sure what to get you so I thought we could twin”. You looked around the room and saw the others holding in their laughs. You could’ve sworn you saw a tinge of red on Azriel’s ears. You just smiled and mouthed a silent “I’m going to kill you, but thank you” at her.

There wasn’t anything from Azriel. Your heart twinged. Had you not been important enough? It was just a present you reminded yourself, fixing your composure before handing Cassian his present.

He ripped it open like an animal, squealing when he saw it. A promising reaction given the amount of thought you put into it.

“Did you design these? They look amazing!”

“Yeah, I’m glad you like it. It took a long time to figure out what to get for your dumb ass”

“You mean my cute ass”, you smacked his arm and then got up to give Mor her present.

You closely watched her reaction as she opened her dress and jewelry, a large smile spreading across her face.

“You really buy the perfect presents y/n, I love it”.

“Oh Cass, Mor. One more thing.” You pulled out the small boxes with the friendship necklaces and bracelets handing it to them. “This was just a little something extra I thought of, I hope you like it”. You knew you would have started stuttering and crying if you had said the meaning to them, so you just handed them notes instead. They read over them, eyes glossing over, and pulled you into a hug.

“This is the only time I’ll wear jewelry” Cass stated, causing you to chuckle

Then Mor said, “I am never taking this off” causing you to laugh again.

Finally, Azriel opened up his presents. He had opened up all the others. All that was left was yours and Elain’s gift to him. He found his way to your present first, opening it.

“A new sheath for Truth Teller. I heard you needed a new one” you quietly said.

He held your gaze and smiled, “Thank you, it's great”. Suddenly feeling exposed, you quickly gave him a nod.

Then he went to open Elain’s gift. “It’s a powder to mix in with any drink.” she said.

Silence.

Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.”

Silence again.

Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed.

You hadn’t heard him laugh before, and mother above it was gorgeous. You had never heard a sound so deep and joyous, a sound which made your heart clench. A part of you wished you were the reason he was laughing. You forced on a smile and spent the rest of the night drinking away the slight pain in your chest.

You were exhausted by the end of the night, sitting on the couch with Cassian and Mor, Azriel and Rhys seated on the opposite side of you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw movement towards the door, and craned your head to see what was going on. It was Nesta making her way to the door. You felt the couch lift next to you.

Cassian. He had swiftly pushed past Feyre and went after Nesta. This wouldn’t end well.

---------------------------------

Cassian had come back quiet and brooding, walking straight to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of liquor. You got up off the couch and followed him straight into the kitchen.

“Cass, let’s take a walk, yeah?”

“I just took a walk”

“It wasn’t a question”. You grabbed a white shawl and his hand and led him outside. “What happened?”

“What’s there to talk about? It was like all the other times. Why did I have to fall in love with someone who doesn't even love me back. Who looks at me like the Illyrian born bastard I am. Who hates the idea of being in the same room as me.”

You grabbed Cass’ hand, lightly squeezing it. “Don’t say that. Nesta, she,” your voice stopping for a second “She’s different. The way she handles pain and copes is different. Give her time. She just needs time. I know how much that may pain you, but you can’t rush healing”

You pulled him into a hug

“And for the record, I know the feeling more than you know” you quietly said “unrequited love”, head pointed at the ground.

Cassian tilted his head down to look at you, his face painted with confusion. You could tell he wanted to know more, but didn’t want to pry too much.

You hesitated before continuing, not sure if you wanted to reveal your closely guarded secret. “I-“ your voice faltering, “I found my mate”. The words seemed to have rushed out of your mouth and tears pricked your eyes as you said that. After months of hiding it, you had finally gotten it off your chest.

Cassian stood shocked, staring at you. “You found your mate? And you didn’t think to tell any of us? How long ago was this”

“I-, I found out who he was around the same time Rhys sent us on that diplomatic mission. And I didn’t tell anyone because he doesn’t even know yet.”

“That was almost 6 months ago, and you didn’t say anything?”.

The tears had started flowing at this point, “I thought he would figure it out. But by the time I realized he wasn’t going to figure it out, it was too late. He had already set his eyes on someone else. And I know I could never compete with Elain, even if I am his mate.” the last part slipped out without you realizing.

“Elain? What does she-“ his eyes widening “Does that mean Az is-“

You slowly nodded, tears welled up, threatening to spill out.

“Oh, mother…”, he pulled you into a tighter hug and that’s when the gates broke. You couldn’t hold back your tears as you sobbed into Cassian's chest, his hand stroking your back.

you must have been there for 15 minutes before you realized the other might start getting suspicious. Regaining your composure, you dried your tears and tried, to the best of your ability, to hide that you had been crying.

Looking back at Cassian, you gave him a slight smile before muttering, “Thank you. I’m sorry for dumping that on you, but please promise me you won’t tell anyone. Please.”

“Of course y/n, and don’t apologize, if it makes you feel better, it helped to take my mind off of Nesta and my own problems, which I desperately needed” he chuckled out.

With the smile still on your face, you linked arms with Cassian before saying, “Oh mother above it’s freezing, let’s get back inside before we turn into popsicles!”

He let out another laugh before the two of you made your way back into the house.

---------------------------------

You walked into the house and your sliver of happiness was crushed as you saw Az and Elain sitting at the table smiling and laughing quietly to themselves. Elain had her sketchbook out, showing Az her plans for the garden.

Your distraught had been clear to anyone who saw your face, and you were too tired to realize you weren’t able to hide it fast enough. Not being able to view the scene anymore, you quickly got up, muttered happy solstice, and grabbed your coat and purse before heading out the door to your apartment.

While walking home, you were consumed by your thoughts. You hated the pangs of jealousy that coursed through you. You often found yourself jealous of her soft spokenness and kindness. You also found yourself jealous of her effortless beauty. It was something that kept you up at night. She was so likeable and easily approachable, something you wished you were.

You were so drowned in your own thoughts that you hadn’t noticed a male following you till it was too late. One of his hands clamped on your mouth while the other grabbed your waist and pushed you into the nearest alleyway.

The male pulled out a knife and your tears started to fall. You were terrified about what he would do to you. This could be the last time you would have seen your family. You were struggling and kicking against him but it was no use. Your senses were groggy from the alcohol and drowsiness.

You had been so stupid to walk home alone at 2 in the morning. No matter how angry you were, you should’ve just stayed at the town house.

Before you could realize what was happening, you felt a sharp pain shoot through your side.

The sound of a clatter.

Receding footsteps.

A crimson stain blooming.

Your body crumpled to the ground and your vision started blacked out. This was it. Nobody could hear you and nobody could save you.

[yniswaifu]

The bet - 2

"Y/N!"

You turn to look at Atsumu walking towards you, stomping his feet. He had a deep frown on his face, and it could be said he was pissed. Very very pissed.

Instinctively Osamu stood in front of you, stretching out his arm to shield you. You had come to meet him before his practice began that day – since it was a weekend with no school, the volleyball team did practice the whole day, as per Kita's order.

But of course, that wasn't very helpful as Atsumu shoved his brother to the side and stood very close to you, his flaring breath fanning your face.

You were anticipating this, not going to lie.

"why did you do that?" he asks, glaring at you.

Close proximity from anyone except your boyfriend made you uncomfortable, so you step back and turn your head to the side. "that was the right thing to d–"

You got cut off and Atsumu grabs your t-shirt collar and yanks you upwards. Your feet barely touched the floor and the area around your underarms hurt from the stretched cloth. Osamu, even though confused by the whole situation, could never see his girlfriend get manhandled by anyone, let alone his own sibling. He quickly comes in between you and Atsumu, and pushes him away.

"what the heck are you doing!?" he yells. Thankfully you guys were near the empty volleyball court or there could be a crowd forming already.

"what am I doing? Ask your girlfriend what she did!" the blonde twin counter-yells.

Osamu turns to see you already staring at him. The reason you decided to meet him was to tell him about yesterday. But his brother beat you to it.

You kept quiet while Osamu waited for you to say something. Sighing, you said, "I told f/n how Atsumu started dating her because of a bet."

Osamu's eyes widened. You could see disappointment flashing through his eyes, and that made you want to cry. But you kept your stand.

"why would you do that y/n? You know Atsumu likes her for real, and we had decided we'll leave the bet thing behind us."

Now you really wanted to cry. You wanted to yell at them about the fake foundation the relationship was based on, and how unhealthy and shameful the whole situation was, but you kept quiet. Moreover, you kept quiet as the two boys stared at you for an answer, as you know saying anything will only hurt you more. Not that your boyfriend taking his brother's side in an instant hadn't already done the damage.

Rolling your eyes, you looked at Atsumu and said, "I did what I thought was right. If she broke up with you then that's not my fault." turning to Osamu you continued, "this is what I had come to tell you. So, now you know. I'll take my leave."

And with that, you left the two and returned home.

***

You spent the weekend crying every now and then. The break up with Osamu had become almost official in your head (due to the overthinking), and you knew he wouldn't want to be with a 'snitch'. How could he trust you anymore when you went ahead and announced the secret to the last person who should know about it. But no matter how much you tried to think about it, what you did felt right. You were guilty for being part of such an action, and after imagining yourself in f/n's place, you felt bad. Because if Osamu had approached you as part of a dare, you wouldn't like it at all. So It's better to let the truth out, even if means you can't be with the boy of your dreams.

The boy of your dreams...

The tears fell harder thinking how you have to stay away from Osamu now. How you couldn't talk to him. Or hug him. Or kiss him. How you won't be hearing his sweet words only reserved for you anymore. Break up sucks.

On Monday, you walked to school alone, entered the class alone, and sat alone. There was no gray haired boy to walk with you to school, or hug you before you entered the class, or spend time with you before the bell rang for the first class. It was lonely, but you had to accept the reality.

One more thing, you didn't want to face Atsumu. After what happened, Atsumu might as well kill you if he sees you again. You loved your life, and you were glad at times like this that you and them belonged to different sections.

The bell rang and you decided to focus in the class, which was both productive and a good distraction. Not that you succeeded much. But you managed till the lunch break.

Ah, time for the students to take a break.

At this time usually either you would head to Osamu's class or he will come to yours, and then you would go to the canteen together. But from now on, you're on your own. And worse, you might see them.

Dragging your feet towards the canteen, you avoided everyone the best you could, and reached early. You bought your food, and rushed out before you saw a mop of gray or blonde head. Thankfully, you were able to escape and is back in your class. I'm bringing my own lunch from tomorrow, you think.

The whole day passes just like that, with you being by yourself and going home, by yourself.

The next day you repeat the routine, feeling a little less anxious. You thought you could avoid the twins like you did the previous day, but you were forgetting about the other two boys you knew.

Halfway through your food during the break time, you see a shadow looming over you. Your hands froze as you thought Osamu was here. But you couldn't be sure. So you just kept looking down.

"where were you yesterday?" a deep voice asks you.

Wait a minute, this isn't Osamu or Atsumu.

You look up to see a pair of narrowed slanted eyes looking at you. "Suna?" you ask, bewildered. You had completely forgotten about him. Or Ginjima for that matter.

He kept staring at you, an eyebrow raised and hands in his pocket. Suna was one of the quietest person you have met. But let's not mistake his quiet demeanor with shyness. He just didn't talk a lot as it was a waste of time for him, but he also wouldn't back down from recording whenever the twins fought. He was the quiet bastard.

You stared at the fox lookalike towering over you, wondering why he came to you, and why he's standing in front of your desk. All you wanted was to finish your lunch in peace.

"well?" he asks.

Sighing, you look down at your lunchbox when you hear the chair in front of you screech and someone sitting on it. "you're talking as if you don't know what happened." you answer softly, not looking at the boy sitting in front of you.

Suna scoffed, "is that why you're avoiding everyone? Because you snitched on us and told f/n about the bet we had placed a couple of months back?"

You kept quiet. So It's clear it was discussed among the boys. Well. The more the merrier, you think.

"honestly, I had forgotten all about it."

You looked up to see Suna smiling at you. It wasn't sarcastic, or seemed to be holding any malice towards you. Why...

"not surprising. All you care about is volleyball and enjoying the fight between the Miyas." you say, a small smile coming off your own.

Suna laughs a little, before his face turns to the usual poker. "you ain't wrong..."

You suddenly felt relaxed. Somehow the anxiety of confrontation left you, seeing you're still smiling while munching on your food.

Suna stares into space while you eat, a comfortable silence between you. You weren't sure what he was thinking, but seeing his relaxed state, you guessed it was nothing about you.

"why now? Of all the time?"

Maybe you guessed too soon. There it was. Confrontation.

Gulping down the last bit, you sigh (Wow, you've been sighing a lot.). You were tired. After four months of keeping it in, and then trying to explain why you did what you did, you didn't feel like talking about it anymore.

"better late than never." you answered.

Suna's eyebrows raised at your words. It almost felt like you wanted him to solve the question himself with those words. Like, the situation was obvious enough to be understood without any explanation.

"right...but we did decide not to tell her." he retorts.

This time you scoffed at his words. What bullshit. "not tell her...sure. Let her believe Atsumu actually liked her when he pointed at her before his serve at the game, something he has never done for anyone. Let f/n believe he waited for her after the game, to take her home. Let her believe he meant all that sweet talk he told her. Let her believe everything was GENUINE from the start. And there wasn't any bet we had with Atsumu when you realized she's the only person who hasn't paid any attention to him."

Your eyes looked furious by this point and you were pissed. Suna knew he was treading on thin ice, and you were about to snap, but he decided to take this further.

"but Atsumu fell for her for real after some time."

"if you're here to defend him and our actions then I suggest you leave."

He raised his hand in surrender. He didn't want to piss you off further. "I'm sorry, jeez."

Rolling your eyes, you rested your chin on your palm and stared outside. You didn't want to blast at anyone in the school.

"anyway, I wasn't here for that. I came here for a different reason, and I got distracted. Sorry for pissing you off." Suna spoke up.

You didn't look at him, but still replied. "apologise to f/n Suna, not me."

He smirked. He knew himself deep down, what they did was wrong. F/n was a nice person, and she didn't deserve any of that. So what y/n did was correct, even if that kinda ruined her relations with others, and Suna admired that. Not like he was going to tell her that.

"I will. In fact, after school" he says, his voice a bit solemn.

This time you look at him.

"I'm glad." you say. You didn't want to lecture Suna. He was a 17 year old teenager after all, with a sensible head between his shoulders. He can make his own decisions, just like you did.

Maybe for the first time, you saw Suna give a proper smile to you. Most of the time he would either have a smirk, or have a poker face. But you never saw him smile like he's doing this time.

"wow, I've never seen you smile like that before." you say, without thinking.

Suna looks a bit surprised but still smiles. "now you have."

You giggle and nod. Suna then gets up and turns to leave but stop. Facing you again, he says. "the main reason why I came here was to ask your help for an assignment. And I'm not great in that subject. So after I've apologised and sorted everything between me and f/n, will you consider helping me?"

You look at his poor attempt to plead. It didn't suit him at all. So you give him a smile and say, "first you apologise. Then I'll think about it."

Suna narrowed his eyes at you, amused by your antics. "very well." he says and bids you goodbye before exiting the class.

You shake your head at the retreating figure and smile to yourself. Of course you were going to help him.

Maybe it wasn't so bad after all...

Here's chapter 2. I know much wasn't revealed, but it gets better (at least in my head). Stay tuned.

Have a beautiful day. ✌️

Shout out to @nyxagape for being the first ever person to comment in the first ever chapter I wrote for my first ever fanfic. Thanks a lot man!

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (6) || atz

“So it was the prisoner that saw the monster first, huh?”

You're standing on the quarterdeck for the second, shifting from one foot to the other uneasily. The captain eyes you suspiciously once more and like a frightened animal  you stand up a little straighter unconsciously.

“Yes, captain.” Seonghwa nods seriously. “He saved us all.”

Hongjoong then scrutinizes you once more, as if trying to come up with some explanation how the monster could be part of some bizarre plan to infiltrate the ship. Then the lookout, Yunho, steps in.

“He did, Cap'n. Even I couldn't see it.”

“Maybe you got lazy and were slacking off on duty, Yunho.” Hongjoong gives his crew member a disgruntled look, but Yunho doesn't flare up or get angry, instead just laughs in agreement.

“Of course I was. Everyone gets bored and slacks off during lookout duty.” He grins with disarming charm, before his face turns serious once more. “But I have to admit, Cap'n, even if I were paying attention, I doubt I could have spotted the creature.”

Hongjoong then turns to you, wearing the most annoyed expression he can possibly contort his face into. You swallow.

“Well, it appears that the ship and I are in your debt-”

The striking purple haired gunner, who you now know to be Wooyoung, pipes up cheerily. “He did save our lives!”

Wooyoung is a curious character. He's undeniably good looking, with hair an unnatural shade of purple and a friendly, easygoing smile. But it's the broken shackles around his wrists that catch your attention, the iron collar resting against his throat that makes you wonder so much more about him.

“Thank you for reminding me.” If looks could kill, Wooyoung would be floating face down in the Davy Jones Locker by now. Hongjoong clears his throat with a vexed cough and continues. “Like I was saying earlier, the ship and I are in your debt-”

Seonghwa nods once again. “That is to be deserving of some reward, at least.”

You see the captain's fingers reach for his swords and for a moment you worry for the cook's life.

“However, I still do not trust you.”

Behind him, San lets out a long suffering sigh and Hongjoong whips around to eyeball him with a sharp glare that goes sailing over the healer’s head before he tries to continue.

“As I was saying, I do not trust you, but-”

“We do owe a life debt to him, though.” Mingi ponders out loud and Hongjoong finally loses it.

“Everyone keep your mouths shut and stop interrupting me! I am the captain, for sod's sake, and god help me if I do not throw you lot overboard the next second I see your mouths open!”

There’s a pause.

“Sorry captain.” The five of them chorus obediently in synchronization, but you see them share tiny, amused smiles. Your eyes widen. They're pulling the captain's leg?

Hongjoong tugs his red jacket closer around him with a huff. “Honestly, does nobody on this ship respect me anymore? Has everyone on board forgotten that I am the captain? As I was saying…” He glances suspiciously around at his five crew members, as if expecting another smart remark to leave their mouths, but they keep silent with barely restrained snickers. He turns back to you. “The ship and I are in your debt. I do not trust you yet, but I am willing to give you a chance to earn it.”

Your eyes widen in surprise as you take that in. He's offering you food, a shelter, a home. You don't have to be alone anymore. You aren't a prisoner any longer. Then your mouth opens before you can run the words by your brain.

“But you hate me!”

At this, San breaks out into full blown laughter, the other three chortling under their breath. Hongjoong gives them murderous glares that go completely ignored, before sighing in resignation as they continue sniggering.

“I do not hate you. I merely mistrust you.” The captain kicks San in the leg, which only makes the healer erupt in another fit of uncontrollable giggles. “I expect hard, honest work from you. And my words still stand the same, if I discover you to be of any way related to the Royal Navy, I'm blowing your head off.”

“I thought you said you were going to gut him the last time.” Mingi comments with all seriousness and sprints away laughing when Hongjoong tosses his boot at him. Seonghwa hides his smile behind his hand politely.

You can't believe your eyes. They can actually joke and play around with their captain. You thought Hongjoong had been some kind of tyrant, savage, cold and with some kind of desire to see your head on a spike, who ruled his ship with an iron fist. The laughter you hear ringing out from his crew is so real, so genuine that you can't believe this is the same person who threatened to gut you like a pig.

“Either way, I believe the polite response would be to graciously accept.” Hongjoong huffs as Mingi waves his captain's boot teasingly from the safety of the main deck, much to the amusement of the rest of the crew. “We'll need to get you some proper clothes and some weaponry training from Jongho or Yunho, and some sort of job for you on board.”

“I could take him as an apprentice.” San suggests, and your heart swells with gratefulness as you can tell you he's trying to spare you from manual labour. “He could help Seonghwa as a cook as well.”

“Very well.” Hongjoong nods, eyes still trained on Mingi dancing around the deck with his boot. You never thought the quartermaster would have such a playful personality either. “Seonghwa, are you alright with that?”

“I follow anything you command, captain.” The cook replies honestly, and Hongjoong groans.

“I told you, call me Hongjoong.”

Seonghwa's smile remains unchanged.

“Yes, captain.”

“San and Seonghwa will tell you what to do from now on.” The captain tells you, eyes serious. “Do not disappoint me.”

For a second, your breath is taken by the intensity of his gaze and you swear you see the oceans in his eyes.

The blessing of a sea god, huh? I could almost believe it.

“Yes, captain!” You shout, springing to attention. Hongjoong look shocked at your willingness for a moment, before a minuscule smile curves on his lips. It's gone so quick you almost miss it, but it's there.

Your mouth falls open in abject shock.

Then he turns to the main deck. “Get your ass back here, Mingi!”

And the next instant, the captain is chasing down his own quartermaster, laughing like a young man, his carefree laughter drifting over on the wind.

“See?” Seonghwa steps next to you, a hand on your shoulder. “I told you that captain doesn't actually hate you.”

With that, he steps down to the main deck, heading for the galley. Wooyoung joins him, skipping down to where the gun crews are cleaning out the cannons once more.

“That went well.” San looks amused, watching his captain and quartermaster race around the deck as the crew cheer them on. “It seems as if you will be us even beyond Tortuga, then. I expect you to study hard under me.”

You look at him with wide eyes. “Were you serious about me becoming your apprentice?”

The healer gives you a dry look. “Does it look like I was joking?”

“But I'm an amnesiac!” You bluster nervously, suddenly in panic at the thought of having to learn something. “I don't remember how to be an apprentice!”

“And I've never had an apprentice either, so I suppose we're in the same boat.” San retorts calmly, his gentle hand coming to rest on your head. “Do me proud, apprentice.”

At that, you almost don't notice the tears streaming down your cheeks.

The next morning, San wakes you up bright and early to assist Seonghwa with preparing breakfast for the crew. When you ask him what he's up to, he simply shrugs and wanders off to the storage hold. He's probably counting the apples in the hold again.

The cook gives you a blinding smile when he sees you. “Here you are! I was wondering when you'd arrive. Would you help me cut the dried meat?”

Your fingers fumble with the knife, clumsy and unsteady, as if you've never held one your entire life. For all you know, you could have. But Seonghwa is infinitely patient with you, he wraps a hand around your smaller one and guides you with a gentle patience, and at the end of it all, you're sure you've improved, at the very least.”

“Now wrap each piece in this flatbread.” The cook instructs you and you follow, until someone knocks on the galley door. Seonghwa looks up in surprise.

“Come in!” He calls, and when the door swings open, you’re pretty sure you’ve died and gone to heaven.

Nobody can look that good. Nuh uh. Not possible. He looks like he was sculpted by the gods themselves, with a jawline sharper than the knife you’re holding and gentle, delicate features that remind you of nobility. There’s an air of quiet confidence to him that ensnares the senses, and you don’t even realize that you’re gaping like a dying fish until Seonghwa taps you on the shoulder.

“Are you alright?” He asks, eyeing you worriedly. You choke out a little ‘no’.

“Ah, you’re the stowaway, aren’t you?” The man smiles at you as he closes the galley door behind him, and you feel like you got slapped in the face by the fact he’s actually moving and talking and isn’t actually a statue. “I heard you broke Mingi’s nose.”

That snaps you out of your daze real quick.

“I did.” You nod, a little sheepishly. Seonghwa chuckles, passing a bread roll to the man.

“Eat up.” Then he turns to you. “This is our navigator, language expert and sailing master, Kang Yeosang. He’s very knowledgeable about all things ocean related and loves anything to do with mythical things.”

“Thank you for the introduction, hyung.” Yeosang rolls his eyes but takes a bite of his breakfast with a smile, seating himself opposite you.

You pause. This has been eluding you for quite some time, but you finally pipe up.

“Hey… I’ve been meaning to ask this for a while, but what is a hyung? I hear Mingi calling the captain that, but what does it mean?”

Seonghwa and Yeosang exchange brief looks.

“Why doesn’t our resident language expert answer that?” Seonghwa gestures to Yeosang, who sighs good naturedly, but answers anyway.

“If you are a man in the company of an older man, you should refer to them as hyung, and when your conversation partner being an older woman, then you call her noona.” Yeosang explains, taking another bite of his food. You nod thoughtfully.

“So, assuming I’m younger than both of you, I should call you Seonghwa-hyung and Yeosang-hyung?”

Yeosang applauds you. “You learn quickly, stowaway.”

A genuine smile breaks out across your face. You’ve never actually learned anything before, at least not that you remember, but it seems that you’re improving!

Yeosang gets to his feet. “Well then, I’ll be off. Hyung, can you pass me some food for captain?”

Seonghwa nods, bustling in the back as he prepares another bread roll for his captain. You look up at Yeosang for a moment as a thought occurs in your mind.

“Yeosang-hyung, how does the captain steer the ship all the time? Doesn’t he need to sleep too?”

The navigator looks at you in surprise. “Hongjoong-hyung doesn’t steer the ship all by himself. He swaps shifts with Mingi.” Seonghwa passes him a plate of bread and dried meat. “I’ll be going now. See you around, stowaway.”

You wave as he leaves, the door gently closing behind him as he ascends to the captain’s cabin.

“Captain.”

Yeosang opens the door to find his captain on his break from the wheel, a mug of tea in hand and a thick book in the other. His one eye flits across the worn pages so quickly no one would guess he had just learnt to read barely two years ago. His captain ponders on a page, bookmarks it quickly, before moving on to the next. He’s so absorbed in his work he doesn’t even notice when Yeosang shuts the door behind him.

“Captain, shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

At that, Hongjoong does jump, almost drawing his musket before he realizes it’s just Yeosang with a plate of his breakfast. He snaps the book shut so fast that dust flies from its pages, trying to act as calm as possible while discreetly shoving it under the blankets on Yeosang’s bed.

“I keep telling you, call me Hongjoong.”

“Yes captain.” It’s a long running joke between all of them, that none of them actually call him by name. He sets the plate in front of Hongjoong, silently sliding the book out from beneath the covers. His captain takes a bite.

“A Complete Sum of Names Commonly used in the East and Their Meaning.” Hongjoong chokes on his bread and makes a swipe for the book, but his navigator simply dances out of the way, flipping to one of the dog eared pages and beginning to read the names out loud.

“Dahae, meaning big ocean. It combines the characters of much (多) and ocean (海).”

“Give it back!” Hongjoong makes another grab for it, but Yeosang simply tosses the book into his other hand and continues reading smoothly.

“Myeongeun, with the character 明 myeong meaning bright, light, brilliant; clear and the character ��� eun meaning kindness, mercy, charity.”

“Stop it!” Hongjoong manages to yank the book back into his arms, stuffing it back in the shelf. There's a knowing smile on Yeosang's face that he doesn't quite like the look of. “And wipe that grin off your face. I was just doing a little light reading.”

“Of course, captain. You were reading about names. It’s an interesting, broad topic. I should start reading about it as well.” His navigator replies with a polite cough and a smile.

Hongjoong eyes one of his oldest friends suspiciously. He can't tell whether he's making fun of him or actually being serious. “Anyway, I need to discuss something with you. Do you know what was chasing us today?”

At his captain's words, Yeosang's smile slides off his face, only to be replaced by an uncharacteristic scowl. “I'm not sure, captain. It was dark and didn't surface above the water so I didn't get to see how it looked like clearly. But from its size and the way it moved…”

“It swam like some sort of squid… or octopus.” Hongjoong recalls, brows pinching together as he tries to associate its characteristics with any sea creature he knows. “Can't be the mermaids, and it's too big to be a shark or octopus…”

Yeosang crosses the room to pull out a book from a shelf, its pages tattered and yellowed with time. It's a thick tome, but Yeosang simply flips to a single page, as if he's known what he was looking for the whole time.

Then he slams the book down on the table.

“Here.”

Hongjoong's fingers reach for the book, eye flitting over the page. It's a crudely hand drawn rendition of a monstrous beast, some sort of cross between a squid and octopus, powerful suckers and deadly spikes along the length of its twelve tentacles. It's two eyes are huge, and according to the small ship drawn next to it for comparison, it's at least three times the size of the Treasure. Each tentacle could wrap around his ship with ease.

“And then I saw it, the gigantic beast thought to be legend.” Hongjoong reads aloud grimly. “Its head towered above the crow's nest of the ship, and each of its tentacles stretching over two hundred feet. I looked up, it was so large in size that it blocked out the sun, and saw two eyes the colour of blood, each twice of me and then some. It raised a tentacle, and in one sweep destroyed all three masts, smashing them to nothing more than matchwood.

The Gallic slave aboard the ship declared aloud, ‘Praise to Sǣr, the sea and storm.” In the next second, he was thrown into the sea and was never to be seen again.

It is the loyal servant of the sea goddess, the one who breathes the oceans. It travels the deep, carrying out her bidding. The men call it the hafgufa, or in our native tongue…

… the Kraken.”

[berryberryrad]

𝙨𝙛𝙬 𝙖𝙡𝙥𝙝𝙖𝙗𝙚𝙩⚡️

.

shino aburame, sfw alphabet prompt

if this comes across as ooc, literally hit me pls. I’m usually kiba biased, but something about shino has just been hitting different recently.

warnings: blatant abuse of grammar and punctuation. cursing. i’m no writer, i just tell it like i see it. I wrote this on mobile and am not a tech guru so I wish I could do the fancy little, “keep reading,” bit but I’m

word count, 3983

.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

we’ve all come to the generalized conclusion that the aburame clan aren’t handsy. shino falls in line with this, and pda or even private interactions that involve skin to skin contact aren’t going to be his forte. I can see him holding hands, or the aspect of interlocking pinkies with this boy while you’re both reading or walking throughout the woods just has me weak in my knees. a more common way shino would express himself by ways of affection would be listening; absorbing every word you have to give and then offering up the information he’s collected later to show that he does hang onto your every word. he does so subtly, remembering things that you mentioned favoring seemingly offhandedly but in reality he wants you to feel as seen as you make him feel. someone give him a kind smile right now

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

shino’s so quick to throw around the, “I’m not sure I have any friends,” card when kiba inuzuka literally exists— the audacity of this man. team 8? the bond the three of them have outdoes friendship. the loyalty. the camaraderie. the attitude. i get whiplash from their personalities interacting, and i love every minute of it. the bluntness of shino can come across as rude disposition, however it all comes a place of well intent. he speaks his mind, and he speaks the truth. all of it. having shino aburame as a friend would mean you could easily find calm grounds to stand upon. he’d offer words of harsh wisdom, whether you ask for them or not. he sees the best in people even behind his quiet demeanor, and has loyalty oozing out of him. good boy, 10/10 wanna be his best friend.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

can i be self-indulgent for .6 seconds: imagine how w a r m shino is. it had to be said.

anyways, aburame clan: not particularly touchy. we talked about this. however there would come times where shino would hold your hand. it was a practice you initiated, and he quickly caught onto. when you walk through the forest together, he’ll send his bugs out to take a quick peek around before interlocking your fingers silently. he’ll be nervous the first time, but eventually is confident enough to make the move without any plaguing hesitation.

I could go on and on about hand holding because I’m a simple girl, but we gotta get to the goods.

cuddling? with shino aburame? a prize that I want to win. you. bug boy. sitting side by side, chatting about slice of life oddities— you put your head on his shoulder. okay little baddie, we see you: he very carefully presses his head onto the top of yours. shoulder to shoulder, his cheek resting in your hair. you never stop talking about your day, and he never stops you. it feels so natural and easy. c o z y. I’m soft.

you don’t spoon, you want to see his face when he lights up with facts about entomology. when you reach that state in your relationship, you lay side by side and play with his fingers, or he draws lazy patterns on your wrist.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

he’d love to settle down wtf. he’d want to keep a romantic partner close, but even platonically— shino’s in it for the long haul.

he may be bug boy, but he’s also a clean boy. right? like okay his hair may be a bit unkept, and his room is definitely littered with sketches of insects and books here and there. but they’re organized in a way that makes sense to him. he can immediately find whatever he needs whenever he needs it, and that doesn’t make him unclean. when it comes to his insects, he keeps them tucked away with precision. each is labeled and jarred away probably alphabetically, idk, that just feels right to me.

cooking is something that can be accomplished in theory. a recipe can be read and executed, but that’s as far as it goes with shino. don’t expect much creative flare, the aburames are known bug enthusiasts, not ramen curators. the most spontaneity you can hope for is perhaps a pinch of salt on your eggs in the morning. if it’s not in the recipe, it’s not happening. he’s a boy of many talents, cooking is barely one of them.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

i don’t even wanna entertain shino breaking my heart—

good thing he’s breaking yours

shino wouldn’t let a platonic relationship go far enough into a romantic status unless he was without a doubt that you were someone he could trust and hold close to his person. honestly I’d say you’d have to be the one to break up with him if you managed to get far enough in. but if he had to break up with you? he’d have the briefest moment of hurt before setting it out all on the table. once his mind is made up, it’s over. he’s not one to dance around the point. you probably won’t even have to ask why. he’ll tell you without prompting.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

oh shino has no problem committing his life to you, after you’ve been together for a very long time that is. marriage isn’t the forthcoming thought pressing into his conscious. it’d be something you had to mention in passing to him to let him know you were interested. to shino, he recognizes your relationship as it is: a relationship. your partners for better or worse, he doesn’t think a marriage certificate has any true significance in the way you share feelings for one another.

but you’d like a wedding? okay, no qualms. he’d want to wait a few years, and the atmosphere of the village would to have to fair calm, but he wouldn’t mind a small ceremony. when he tilts your head back and kisses you to seal the deal, kiba faints.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

sorry I was just checking the time, seems to me like it’s, “soft boy hours.”

I want you to know right now that shino aburame hangs onto every word you say with such fervor, it’s just darling okay? emotionally, when you’ve established that you plan on playing an active role in his life, he’s so doting. asks you short and simple questions about your day. offers advice on your woes. let’s you interact with his bugs— because he trusts you. and you better offer him the same love and respect back. I have this whole thing about him receiving cheek kisses. he eats that shit up okay, but silently with a blush crawling up his neck and wrapping around his ears. pinky holding— hullo. that’s the gentlest thing homies can do.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

maybe he hugs you first. that’s wild, but it keeps you on your toes. you held his hand first, yes, but that night when he accompanies you home you stand nearly toe to toe. you haven’t released hands yet, and he’s overwhelmed with a feeling of gratitude to someone who has lent an ear to him with no ulterior motives other than quality time. it’s strangely second nature to him as he wraps a fast arm around your waist, crushing your held hands between your bodies. you’re taken aback, obviously, but before you can even share a proper moment in the same space he’s retreating back into his stoic persona and wishing you a good night.

shino hugs with his whole body, and my favorite version of this would be him wrapping his arms around your shoulders as your crushed into his shoulder. love it. he doesn’t hug often, cherish the ones he shares with you.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

shino, ever the one to speak his mind, let’s you know he loves you immediately when it occurs to him. I’m not quite sure when this is, but you’ve been apart of his life for a long time without a doubt. you make him feel safe, seen, and he is sure he can trust you. you probably ask him a question about like the process through which butterflies migrate or whatever, I’m not clever enough to think of insect related questions, but after he gets done explaining and you’ve got this thoughtful expression on your face he just blatantly says it. it’s so matter of fact and without any doubt that you have to blink for a moment before sharing the sentiment. it’s not awkward. there’s not any fanfare or roses involved. it’s the truth, and you’re both quietly over the moon about it.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

shino and jealousy don’t necessarily exist in the same realm. he’s not going to entertain someone he can’t trust, that’s just a given. and if he did have any doubt in his mind you were pursuing something romantic from another, he’d simply send one of his bugs to investigate the situation. if it proved to be true, he’d confront you on it. if he’s misunderstood the circumstances then he can admit it, but if he hasn’t then he’ll make it apparent to you very quickly he doesn’t appreciate what you’ve been doing.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

soft, goodnight.

okay so like forehead kisses, right? forehead kisses by shino>>>>

i will die on this hill, don’t test me.

shino kisses softly and with purpose, there is nothing he does without meaning. it’s a press of his lips to your forehead before leaving for a mission, it’s brushing your lips together in the moonlight, it’s pushing the pads of your fingers against his mouth when you’re upset. I’m a hopeless romantic and there’s only so many euphemism for kissing, so take what you’re given. shino isn’t experienced in tonsil surfing, so you’ll have to bear with him. it’s something that relies less on textbook skill and moreover on feeling and primal intuition, something he does have so he’s not completely clueless. like i said, forehead kisses are a go to and idk if I’ve mentioned you giving shino cheek kisses but for the love of god, please opt to. he eats that shit up, you gotta.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

kurenai herself made note of how well shino interacts with kids, and I have never known kurenai to be wrong so it’s been decided. shino? amazing with kids. the scene between him and mirai? shino giving a piggy back ride? goodnight y’all, imma clock out.

and he eventually becomes sensei badass okay, like he can handle himself amongst a child or two. as far as having his own children I think he’d do well with one. shibi and shino share the classic aburame relationship: mutual understanding and appreciation of one another’s existence, and i can see him sharing that with his own child and then some. he spent the better part of his own childhood in solitude. it was in tandem sought out and forced upon him. big boy perks. he’d want his child to not only embrace their aburame side, bugs and all— but also to feel confident and extroverted enough to branch out and make interpersonal relationships

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

imagine being a morning person. I mean shino doesn’t have to, but it couldn’t be me. shino’s up before dawn breaks, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and pressing his glasses into his nose before he even opens his eyes. rise and shine. if you’ve been sleeping beside him, he’ll cast a long look you’re way, admiring your still figure before standing and beginning his day quietly so as not to wake you. he lets you sleep as long as you wish unless you instruct otherwise. sometimes you ask him to wake you when he wakes himself. you always regret it because why the fuck is he awake, the crickets are still outside doing god knows what. he thinks the ambiance of an early morning is peaceful, and it sets his person in ease.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

can we all just take a moment to appreciate the grand outdoors and how precious it would be to have shino watching you fondly ogle at fireflies in the middle of a field. like arms crossed with a gentle smile behind his collar as you open mouth grin and point because he absolutely asks them to do something impressive just to see you in awe.

nights are spent outside staring up at the sky. in a tree? on the ground? in the park? in the middle of the woods? who cares, time with shino is time well spent.

if it’s raining then that’s tough, I guess y’all will just have to have a night in. sometimes you play shogi, and you don’t complain when he lets you win despite you showing no true skill for the game. he doesn’t mind.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

oh shino won’t reveal anything haha. well not on purpose. see I know I’ve gone on and on about shino being so attuned to you and what you have to say, but you have to show him equal attention and devotion to get a good read of him. anything personal that can be taken from him is conveyed so subtly you’ll miss it if you’re not paying attention. he’ll answer any question you ask, however if you get too personal too fast he’ll slyly avoid the question

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

not easily angered, moreover easily annoyed. while shino may not be on shikamaru’s level of strategical advances, he does have a pretty good sense of how things should be completed. it’s usually the way that benefits the most people and accomplishes the goal with as little room for error as possible. when things stray off from the how he envisioned them, I see him getting a little irritated. I think the time he’s spent with kiba has aided in this conclusion, and he isn’t as easily moved to a pissy nature as he once was, but I think the sullen nature still translates across if things fail to go his way because in his mind, it’s the most logical path.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

broken record alert: he’s a good listener. it’s both a strategic move to manipulate situations because he’s become so good at reading people, and his own unique love language. it’s the juxtaposition of words of affirmation; he shows he cares by ways of empathy and action. it’s stoic empathy, but empathy nonetheless. he remembers everything you tell him, and everything you don’t. on missions when you two are parted, his thoughts are sometimes clouded with images of the way your mouth arches when you laugh, or the soft smell of you lingering on his coat after you hugged him goodbye.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

when you let him go on and on about his insects and you seem genuinely interested. so often do people put up with shino’s knack for bugs out of politeness or to just let him fill the silence— but you ask questions. you seem intrigued with any word that falls from his lips and you’re quick to quip back with facts you’ve dug up on your own. you’re curious about what shino is so attuned with, and he is so excited to have someone to educate who wants to learn. you’ll go on small adventures to locate bugs to breed or to simply watch, and it’s at these moments when you’re both silent and poised over a poisonous beetle with a respective jar and net that he remembers fondly when you’re both parted.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

well he’s already sworn to protect the village, so initially it’s on that basis. his duty is to do whatever he can to keep the residents of the hidden leaf secure, but with you he keeps a bit more of a watchful eye available. he isn’t paranoid or overly protective, however on days his mind is uneasy, shino has no qualms sending a beatle to hover your person. it’s just a security measure, nothing to write home about.

you keep shino protected from his inner turmoils. hinata and kiba can only reassure him so much, but shino has developed the habit of writing them off. they’re just his teammates, they have to put up with him. however you have no personal ties to him really. you stick around on your own accord, and this boosts his self esteem immensely. you put his mind at ease and make note to remind him daily that the members of team eight are an excellent unit and that he needs to give kiba and hinata more credit because they both care about him as well. akamaru too, woof woof dummy. accept the love.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

shino’s not a man of many words, and when he does spit fire, it’s calculated and can come across as blunt assertion. you’ll come to put up with it, but he can come to understand he can be a bit overbearing in this aspect. so as I’ve expressed, words of affirmation aren’t his love language (though don’t put it past him to whisper sweetness into your ear when you’re both alone: that would be lovely.)

he expresses himself through gifts, awe. shino won’t present you with precious jewels or money as means of affection. no, the gifts are moreover practical. a book you had been pining after, a scarf to keep you warm in the upcoming months, things of that nature. he also collects rocks, we can collectively agree on that as a community right? he’ll share them with you, encouraging you to begin your own arsenal of rocks that entertain no one but are a sweet gesture— thanks shino.

dates are long walks when he as spare time. he doesn’t mind if they’re silent or if you fill the space with your own daily narrative. you’ll both trade useless dialogue and he likes it. it’s a sense of normalcy for him.

he doesn’t try particularly hard in any sense, but he doesn’t need to. time spent with shino is delightfully casual in both of your lives, please don’t mind it.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

what if shino picks his nails, awe.

he’s a wonderful, brilliant little creature: but he has a habit of writing off people who clearly care about him. you’ve gotta take a little energy into reassuring him from time to time. he won’t outwardly mope in this mentality, but sometimes he seems a little off and it will fall on your shoulders to assist him

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

mans only lets like 3% of his face be shown for the better part of the series and then decided that a visor and top knot were gonna be his debut look in boruto, he is n o t the one to look to for fashion advice, and this is coming from someone who simps so hard for shino aburame like he’s lowkey giving kiba a run for his money at this point but like come on

as far as his s/o goes i know the prompt didn’t ask but he doesn’t mind what his s/o particularly looks like. it’s a personality game baby, let’s go

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

shino’s written as a loner, and he doesn’t particularly mind that status but a friend every now and then is never unwelcome. he deserves to be appreciated, and while he may not outwardly show that he receives the appreciation in good spirits, you can rest assured he does. having a partner would be pleasant, no doubt, and he would love having someone by his side to call a best friend (and eventual partner) however shino’s existence isn’t completely codependent on another half. he can exist on his own with just the company of his bugs with no true remorse. he does feel lonely at times, but he’s got the squad of the hidden leaf backing him up. he’ll make it through

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

blush bug boy shino = a happy bee (‘s me, I’m bee)

the headcannons where stoic blunt hardass shino is an inexperienced nervous boy eat me alive. man’s is a shinobi who has faced peril and nearly suffocates when you hold his hand for the first time? imma head out, i love it

he’s also always early to things? yes please? early is on time, on time is late, and late means call an ambulance, something super not cool has gone down

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

if you don’t like bugs, you have to evacuate the dancefloor. I’m not saying you have to be the president of the, “insects are the superior race,” committee. to enjoy something and appreciate something from a distance both can weigh evenly on a scale in this instance. if you’re a bug enthusiast, kudos. he’ll love spending time showing off his collection to you with a slightest hint of pride coloring his tone. if you’re the type of person to be afraid of insects, he can deal with that as well. most people are, and he recognizes it comes from misunderstanding. if you are willing to give the bugs a chance and overcome your phobia, you’ve won him over.

wouldn’t like an over the top ditzy person. he needs you to have some sense of self preservation and common sense. shino does not put up with tom foolery and he would make that apparent to you very quickly.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

can I head cannon that he just becomes unhinged in his sleep? can we get behind that? like shino may begin the night tucked in with his hands clasped over his abdomen, but that is n o t how he finds himself in the morning. as a shinobi, he’s a light sleeper. fair play. but light sleepers toss and turn too, and I like to imagine him waking up discombobulated. face down, open pressed into his pillow, arms doing what they will, hair in disarray. magnificent. a pen drops and he wakes immediately, and is up before you can truly assess what you’ve just seen of the normally so put together aburame.

he knows he’s an active sleeper, ‘s why he gets up at 4am. that’s his business

[taeslovehandles]

IF I WERE YOU CH 1 - LOVE 

What if your significant other had the ability to switch body frames with you? What if you were too big to ride your favourite roller coaster or couldn’t fit in some old clothes you wanted to wear today? Well, Jungkook could do literally that. Switch Jimin’s and his body frame to help his boyfriend love himself the way he was while never feeling insecure or like he was missing out in life due to his big appetite and wide body.

[read on ao3]  

———————————————————————————————  

Click “read more” to read this story on tumblr!

“Sooo, just to get this right. Why exactly are we going to the beach again?” Jimin asked as he held his swim trunk in front of the mirror. It was looking a few sizes too small by now which caused the man to slightly frown. Calm down Jimin-ah, it’s just the beach. It’s okay.

“Because you keep avoiding going literally anywhere with me and your boyfriend wants to visit nice places with you once in a while.” Jungkook pouted. His voice coming out of the bathroom.

“You know why... I mean-” They had this conversation almost every week and honestly? Jimin had no idea how Jungkook hadn’t given up on them yet. But he always talked to Jimin, reassuring him that he was beautiful no matter his size. But to Jimin it was a bit different. 

You see, Jimin and his weight had a pretty complicated relationship. Jimin wasn’t a feedee but rather a foodie. He just loved to eat good food. Most of that food was deep fried and coated in a thick crunchy and oily layer of seasoning dipped in mayonnaise or ketchup but he loved that shit. But eating what he wanted, all the time, had done significant changes to his body. Jimin had always been a bit on the chubby side but he definitely did not count as ‘chubby’ anymore with reaching 500 pounds soon.

His wide bottom was mostly if not always in the way of things. Just yesterday one of his favourite cups shattered and broke as he turned around to grab a cube of sugar to go with his coffee and -smack-. It was a des-ASS-ter. Yeeted that cup right off the counter with his ass.

Anyway, you could say that Jimin loved to eat a lot and he was fine with his body and his changes. Didn’t even mind that he often was out of breath or began to huff and struggle by the most simple tasks like getting socks on with his big belly in his way. But the issue was society. Jimin hated being outside and surrounded by people. He didn’t like the looks he got, the muttering and chatting behind his back. It made him feel anxious and that is why he and Jungkook were not often outside. Of course Jungkook respected Jimins decision but he also believed that his boyfriend often thought things that were straight up wrong or not true.

Just the other day ago, when the young man had finally talked Jimin into going outside with him to go grocery shopping, since he wanted to bake a cake and needed Jimin to come with him to pick the toppings for it, he had noticed that Jimin had began to stiffen up, his muscles tensed and just like that he was like switched out.

Jimin behaved differently when they were in public, didn’t even kiss Jungkook or hug him in fear he would embarrass his boyfriend. Obviously this was a thought the large man had never told him. It would definitely end in a long debate and conversation Jimin simply didn’t want to have.

Back to the story, so Jungkook was going down the aisle to search for what they needed when he noticed two girls talking about a really good show he had recently seen an ad for online. They walked by and spoke about the funny trailer which ended in giggling. After that Jimin had been even weirder.

It got so bad that Jungkook had to literally beg Jimin to tell him what was wrong and why he had gotten so annoyed and irritated until he finally spat it out. For some reason he had thought the girls were talking bad about him and his figure and were laughing about him. Which was ridiculous, Jungkook had heard what the two had spoken about. But nothing he would say, eased Jimins mind.

You could say Jimin himself was his biggest enemy. He heard things no one said and just created this illusion of others judging him the moment they saw him, which wasn’t true either. But Jungkook was tired of repeating himself daily. He just hoped he knew what to do to help Jimin out. Some way to ease his pain in a way that would make him feel better and more self aware and just happy? Because god, Jimin was gorgeous to Jungkook. Who cares what Karen behind the counter thought? Fuck her then.

“You know I am not forcing you to go right?” Jungkook made sure once more. Yes he sometimes came off as very demanding but he just wanted Jimin to be happy and live his life without being stuck inside all day.

“I know, I know…” Jimin sighed as he pulled his shirt off. He grabbed for his lower belly roll and heaved it upwards. “I don’t think this thing will fit in my old swim trunk anymore Gugg.”

“Mhm, did you try it on yet? Maybe we can buy a new one before we go? I’ll go grab the suncream real quick.” As badly as Jungkook wanted to see Jimin put on the tight swim trunk, he wasn’t someone that stared. Of course he was allowed too and Jimin was more than okay with it but the young man always made sure that Jimin never felt like an object to him. They had talked about Jungkooks preferences about his ideal body type and what he liked. So it was important for Jungkook to always make Jimin feel loved for himself and not his fat. Obviously his fat was a big turn on for him and Jimin knew that, but it was Jimin himself that Jungkook had fallen in love with back in university.

“I’ll try...  Remind me once I become president to make a new law of no clothes needed outside. And charge anyone that wears socks.” Jimin joked. He really hated to bend down and do literally anything clothing related there. His belly was always in the way of everything and it was exhausting.

“I’ll note it down.” A chuckle came from the room nearby together with some rustling through some bags. Where had they put that damn sun cream. “Do you know where we put the sun blocker Babe?”

“Uhm- if it’s not in one of the -huff- bags it should be -huff- in the bathroom...oh fuck these -huff- pants man…” Jimin was getting frustrated.

“Do you need help?” Jungkook peeked into their bedroom with a worried face.

“I- Can you just pull these up while I lift my gut?” Jimin huffed out of breath.

“Sure can do!” Walking over and doing what he had been told, Jungkook made quick work of the tight swim trunk. “Oh boy…”

“That bad?”

“I mean, you can feel it right?”

“You mean that my thighs are too fat for the trunk to get all the way up?...Yup.” Jimin tried to catch his breath as he sat down on the bed and let himself fall on the back. “Why don’t we just buy one online and not go today?” 

“But tomorrow will be rainy…” Another pout from Jungkook. God damn it, these stupid pants seriously. Now that Jimin FINALLY had agreed to go out. IN THE SUMMER HEAT, it was the pants ruining it.

“Okay listen- uhm. Don’t take this the wrong way okay?”

“That only sounds like I will take it the wrong way, but say it.” Jimin was already annoyed, so he might as well hear what Jungkook had to say.

Said man was fumbling with his hands. “So- uhm… since- uhm. Your gut hangs so low… technically no one would see anyway? A-And we could just go to an area without as many people? I mean it is covering your ass… or uhm. Actually, nevermind this is a dumb idea.” 

“I mean. The first one is already dumb, might as well spit it out. And no. I won’t wear pants that don’t fit, are you nuts?” He crossed his arms.

“I told you, you’d get mad…” The young man scratched the back of his head as he went and pulled the pants back down from Jimins legs to throw them away. Not like Jimin would slim down anytime soon and they’d magically fit again.

“Tell me the other idea…” He insisted.

“No seriously, my mouth spoke before my brain gave consent. I do-”

“Well I want to know though.”

-Sigh-

“Promise me you won’t get mad?”

“I promise.” 

Jungkook fumbled with his fingers when he said it. “We could just go to the naked area at the beach… then no one cares… Ouch!” Jimin had kicked him in his side slightly.

“Are you- I can’t believe -THIS- was even an idea you had!? After I can’t even stand being anywhere other people clothes you think THAT would make it easier!?” Jimins nose was flaring. Sometimes he wasn’t sure if Jungkook even understood what he thought, no matter how often he explained it.

“You promised to not get mad!”

“I am not mad, I kept my promise.”

“You just hit me!?”

“Deserved. Dumb ideas get smacked.” Jimin gave him an eyebrow wiggle and heaved himself up. “Now what do we do?”

“I don’t know…” Jungkook really wanted to go to the beach with his love.

“I wish I could just like.. Snap my finger and switch body size with you. Because I bet you, you’d go to the beach with me, if you didn’t have the issue of others watching you right?” He added.

“Well yeah obviously. I’d even go naked.” He joked.

But that was exactly what was about to happen. The moment Jungkook had snapped his finger and spoke out his wish the both of them felt hotter than before.

“Did it- just get warmer in here or-?” Jimin asked, confused. His skin was tickling slightly, what was going on?

“No, I’m hot too… does your body tickle like mine do- what the… Babe do you see this!?” Jungkook held his slowly expanding stomach as it bulged out, looking more and more like the man had swallowed a beach ball. “Uhm… what is… going on?”

“I don’t know? Oh god, my body tickles too though…” Jimin since he was a lot heftier did not notice a few pounds missing, so he didn’t notice how his thighs and belly were slowly decreasing in size as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“I- I’m swelling up! Wait, wait Jimin are you losing any weight can you feel anything?” Jungkook didn’t believe it but at the same time what was happening right now seemed out of a movie.

“Wait. I am! I- my belly is shrinking… what the… Why though? Because of what you said just now? Is this actually happening!?” Jimin was speechless as he watched how his entire body was getting slimmer and slimmer. He had lost at least 200 pounds by now. The shirt he was wearing was so loose on him now it looked like he had accidentally taken a pillow or blanket and mistook it for a shirt.

Which also meant that someone else was about to gain all of that. “Wait, if I am losing the weight and you are gaining it we should-”

-Rip-

“Take your clothes off…” Jimin finished his sentence.

“Well- too late for that now. And this was my favourite jeans man…” Jungkook watched as his thick thighs began to grow out of the holes his clothes began to create as the fabric kept ripping open more and more. 

-tear-

“Shit, Gugg, get your shirt off, hurry!” Jimin stood up and almost fell over, he wasn’t used to getting off that easily and had used too much strength to get up which almost catapulted him forward and towards his boyfriend who was struggling to get his shirt off. It had already cut into his double belly and was now rolling itself upwards until his big moobs were stretching the fabric too much and the shirt ended up tearing apart as well.

“Oh man… oh wow…” Jungkook was so speechless right now. He kept inspecting himself and watching intrigued how his entire body was swelling up in fat. How each and every body part was slowly engulfed and swallowed by fat. “Jesus there is so much of it!?”

“Welcome to my club, Babe.” Jimin joked and smacked Jungkooks big belly. “How does it feel being that heavy Gugg?” He was actually interested.

“It feels…” Jungkook swallowed thickly as he held his own belly up just to let it fall again, causing a loud smack of skin on skin. “Man, I mean- I knew the jiggling part would cause an ocean of jiggles but I had no idea you could feel ALL of that. Even the little ripples afterwards…” This was amazing. Jungkook was amazed.

“Oh you thought I was faking my moans when you began jiggling my fat to get me off? Hell nah- that shit feels amazing.” Jimin stood there proudly as he kept losing more and more weight. He was beginning to get bulky with some muscles. 

“Well… it just sounded so unreal? I believe you now- Oh shit, oh god…” Jungkook didn’t even know where to look anymore. Each part that grew needed to be explored but the weight was getting to him now. Jesus he was so heavy… he.. He couldn’t stand that much anymore. “Damn, this is how bad your legs hurt from just standing?” 

“Yup.”

“Wow… I would carry you everywhere if I could then. I guess I understand why you love things to sit or lay on.” He giggled...well attempted too. But just giggling was exhausting while standing, so the man waddled. “Oh god, I- I have to walk with spread legs like that…?”

“Yeah. Can’t walk normally if there is fat in between. But you’ll get used to it.” Jimin soothed.

“Woah… -huff- Okay this is really exhausting.” Jungkook could feel his massive bubble butt jiggling as he waddled to the bed and sat down. His body sank deep down into the mattress as he caught his breath and just touched himself all over. 

“Hey, if you need a minute I can let you be alone with your body you know.” Jimin pulled another joke.

“Excuse me for being amazed by this and have to investigate my own body that literally just swelled up 400 pounds.” The other poked out his tongue towards Jimin.

“Well, how do you like it?” Jimin was curious. Because he himself felt great right now. He began jumping and sitting on the ground with his head resting on his knees. Wow, it’s been so long since he could do any of that. 

“I feel great! Well, I feel sweaty and exhausted but besides that I really like it. What about you muscle man?”

“I can see my feet.” Jimin grinned.

“Been some decades, Huh?... Ouch! God stop hitting me. Now it’s unfair, I can’t even reach you!” Jungkook pouted with his cute, thick and chubby cheeks.

“You look so cute with a round moon face Guggie, Naw! And you deserve every slap you get. No taking back.” Jimin had to giggle as he effortlessly got up standing and smiled. “So, are you going to the beach now or what?”

It made Jungkook happy, that Jimin seemed so eager to go now. “Well… I’m pretty sure since we switched bodies that your old pants won’t fit me either.”

“We could go naked.” Jimin grinned and gave his boyfriend a kiss on his forehead.

“I- I mean… but-” 

“What? How did you say? Your belly hangs so low, no one can see anything anyway!” Jimin repeated in a mocking tone.

“Okay I admit it! It was the dumbest idea I ever had! Happy? Let’s not go naked…” Jungkook felt betrayed by his own self. How could he have suggested something so dumb.

“Glad we agree now. So. I got an idea-” Jimin opened up their cupboard in the search of big pants he knew would still fit. Or at least should still fit. Since the man was always or most of the time at home he also didn’t wear a lot of outdoor clothes. “Try these on.” He threw a pair of sweatpants at him.

“They shouuuld fit. I’m not sure. They did fit last time.” Jimin sat down and began helping Jungkook who seemed to struggle. “You don’t know how to get this on, do you?”

“No…” He pouted. “How do you even… it’s like my belly is an End Boss!? How am I supposed to reach my feet and get these damn pants on? How do you do it?” Now that Jungkook was 500 pounds he realized that most things did not work the way he may thought they would. He couldn’t simply bend down and get his feet into the damn sweatpants. There was just too much fat in the way.

“Rule number one. Don’t bend down without taking a deep breath. So, see you grab the legs of the pants here and then you have to sway them like this and catch them at the right time with your foot. It’s really hard to do and sometimes you sit there for 15 minutes trying to get your pants on but I am here to help you. But I want you to try it out first.” Was Jimin enjoying the view and how his boyfriend struggled with all of his weight? Yes, yes he did. His cheeks were slightly red and his loins were tingling.

“-huff- Okay… okay I- I think -huff- Ah damn it! -huff-”

“-huff- ah so close! -huff-”

“No! Pants! -huff- get -huff- back here!”

“Do you want my help?” Jimin asked with a smirk.

Jungkook just looked at him in disbelief. He was beyond exhausted. “I -huff- yeah. If we want to -huff- go soon, then yes…” He huffed out. Jesus this was all so exhausting.

His boyfriend grabbed the pants and pulled them over one swollen leg, up to Jungkooks knee. Then came the next pant leg. “I never realized how fat my cankles were actually.” Jimin notifies as he pokes and grabs at said body part.

“I love your cankles. I love everything about you…” Jungkook jumps in.

“Well, now you got my fat. Make out with yourself, you don’t need me anymore.” Jimin was joking but his boyfriend did not like these kinds of jokes and Jungkooks next sentence came out sternly.

“No. Because I love you Jimin. I love you for you and not just your body. Don’t make such jokes.” He slightly smacked him on his shoulder.

“Ouuch, Okay, Okay! Party pooper.” But Jimin smiled. He’d respect not making such jokes again.

…

After half an hour Jungkook was clothes with his sweatpants, a shirt and Jimin had decided to already out suncream on him because it would be harder to do it later because he knew Jungkook would maybe not admit it, but standing just to get suncream on you was also exhausting.

They had prepared blankets, some fruits and food together with fresh water yesterday, which Jimin shuffled around to get in their bag as well. Some sun hats and of course a beach ball to play with. The older hadn’t been so excited to go out since forever. He simply didn’t feel the weight of eyes staring at him anymore and it was a refreshing experience.

Jungkook simply didn’t care if he got looks. Their house wasn’t far from the beach but it was definitely exhausting to waddle there as a 500 pounder, that Jungkook figured out quite fast.

“Oh jesus… -huff- and you went -huff- grocery shopping -huff- with me…” 

“Stop talking, it’ll make it worse. Just concentrate on putting one foot over another and walk. We are almost there!” Jimin tried to help. He was the ‘heavy people’ expert anyway.

For once listening, his boyfriend stopped talking and just concentrated on walking. It probably looked a bit weird that he was not wearing an actual swim trunk but they’d have to order one online for next time. And it’s not like it wasn’t allowed to go swimming in sweatpants.

“Are you okay?  Do you need a break on that bench?” Jimin knew how exhausting it was and wanted to help as much as he could as he gently grabbed for Jungkooks arms and squeezed lightly.

“Y-Yeah.. -huff- rest… Phew…” Jungkook turned right and waddled towards the bench as he sat down slowly with a loud creak of the wood. He took a deep breath. “My god -huff-. I mean -huff- I heard you breathing -huff- but I had no idea -huff- THIS is how it feels… -huff- for you.”

“It’s quite a task for people like us to get literally anywhere. That’s why I often asked you how long the walk from the car to the restaurant would be, back when I still fit on those chairs because I didn’t want to end up there breathing like an exhausted and sweaty pig for everyone to look at.” Jimin kissed Jungkook on his lips. “Do you want me to get you a drink before we go down? Or Ice cream? I know I always get hungry walking, so…” Jimins smile was genuine.

“A soda sounds -huff- amazing actually. Let’s get ice-cream later? I -huff- really want to swim. I’m all -huff- sweaty.” Jungkook tugged on his shirt with two big dark circles between his arm and torso. His back was probably darker grey too from all the sweat. “Alright, I’ll get you some. Just stay here and get some rest Babe.” With that Jimin jumped up and swiftly walked over to one of the food carts to grab some soda.

That’s when Jungkook noticed it for the first time. How people were watching him, or speaking about it. How they took a glance and turned their head as soon as he locked eyes with them. How some spoke so loud that he was meant to hear their jokes or how their noses crunch up in disgust. It wasn’t a nice sight to see but Jungkook had the self esteem of a diamond. Nothing could cut through him, so he simply smiled back or waved when people did what they did. It didn’t bother him the slighted as he watched his boyfriend grabbing the soda and three HotDogs.

“Hey, sorry it took so long. Here is your soooda-” Jimin held it out for Jungkook to grab. “And I wanted to eat a HotDog, so I got two for you as well.” Another kiss on his forehead.

“Thanks Minnie.” Jungkook began chugging down the soda until it was half way finished when he bit a big chunk off of the HotDog. “Man I love these HotDogs they sell here.” Another big bite.

“Yeah, they are great!” Jimin wiggled his legs up and down as he sat on the long bench next to his love and looked around when he began to frown. “Hey uhm… we don’t have to sit here. We can just go down to the beach and ready everything up you know?” It were the stares Jimin noticed. They weren’t directed at him but at the person he loved the most, which almost felt even worse. He just wanted to punch them all.

“It’s fine Babe. I don’t care.” Jungkook was half way through the second HotDog by now.

“I know you say that, but we really can just-”

“No I mean it. I don’t care. I know you often say you don’t care but you do. You are thin right now, just enjoy it and ignore the others? Who are you living for?” Jungkook asks with a bit of sauce on his cheek. 

“Myself…”

“Yes and that means?”

“It doesn’t matter what others think about me…”

“Exactly! Now let them stare at my hot ass body and be jealous. I feel amazing Minnie. So please enjoy the day okay? I am so excited to go swimming with you.” Jungkook gave him a lovingly squeeze to his thigh and kissed his cheek, with a bit of a huff, before finishing his HotDog and chugging down his soda.

“Alright, I’m ready. Let’s go!”

———————————————————————————————  

A fluff one. Yay! Remember the snippet I shared? Kinda got more chapters now. I have some ideas. But this one will be written in my own pace, how I feel fit. Anyway enjoy my fluff readers <3

If you are wondering why I posted this one on tumblr as well to read. This is one fluff and doesn’t need trigger warnings. The hardcore stuff only goes to my ao3. So enjoy <3

[hope-to-hell]

This is a long one, so I’ll split it up into three parts. The Walker possession fic that nobody asked for but is happening anyway.

A Possession, part one: Convergence. August Walker x Henry Cavill. Warnings for the entire fic: possession, dubcon (possession-related; our hero never asked for this), mentions of past torture (prior to story events), some degradation, praise kink. Roughly 6k words altogether. Section heading titles largely pulled from whatever music I was listening to at the time. Part two is here, part three is here

Your body is a temple

—-

He doesn’t die, not quite. He finds something better.

It’s like this. You tried sitting on your hand once til it was numb, so that when you closed your hand around yourself it would seem like it belonged to someone else.

A face at the glass. The sensation of falling, of oil under your skin. Sharp pinpricks in every pore, a headache that threatened to split you in two. Stillness, for a moment. Then

Wake up.

Nobody there.

Wake up.

You push up on your elbows, look around. Everything looks the same as always. You’re alone, as always. Even Kal is asleep in the other room, and anyway if he’s started talking then you’ve got more problems than you thought.

Get up. Isn’t there a mirror?

There is, on the wall above the dresser. You rake your hands through your hair, making your bedhead even more pronounced. It feels good, so you do it again, tugging a little on your curls. And again, scraping one hand down through your stubble, over your jaw and down your neck. Press just a little.

We look good.

What?

Pay attention. I know you won’t want to miss this.

It’s like this. Your hand is your hand is not your hand. The calluses are the same, the thick fingers are the same, but there’s static fuzzing the signal somewhere between brain and hand. You surprise yourself with the way you scrape your fingers down your chest, with the way you dig those fingers into the skin of your belly, nails raising red welts.

Hm, you really like that, don’t you? Look at you.

And yeah, it’s a little surprising, watching the blood pulse into your cock like that, watching it twitch and jump, but it is morning and you were dreaming—

Dreaming about what? Tell me. Give me your secrets. Was it something like

Your hand closes around your cock, stroking dry once, twice, before pulling away and you whine, you whine and want to touch again, it’s like your hand is your hand is not your hand and you grip the edge of the dresser, breathing just a little harder than you should.

like this?

And you open your mouth, shove the first two fingers of your right hand inside. Suck. Get them wet for me. What? You’re not sure where this is coming from but oh there’s a line of fire running down from your fingers to your cock and it’s so so so

Good. That’s a good boy.

Oh fuck. Your left hand slips off the edge of the dresser. You catch yourself on your forearm and that’s going to be a bruise for sure. And now, bent over like this, it’s just so easy to reach back behind yourself with your right hand, feel your fingers stroking cool and wet down the cleft of your ass. Feel the muscle of your hole twitch, just a little. But it’s not—

Not gonna work. Where do you keep the lube? Fucking tell me we have lube.

You do, and it’s right here, regular fucking boy scout aren’t you; you squeeze it sloppy onto your fingers and kick your legs farther apart, getting into position like you’re presenting your ass for, for what?

For me. Now, get your fingers inside yourself. You know how I like it.

Yeah, just a little too fast, a little too hard. You breach your entrance with one fingertip and it’s like fire; your head jerks up like someone’s grabbed you by the hair and there you are in the mirror, eyes just a little too bright, eyes on me, that’s good, oh you good boy. Look at you.

One finger becomes two becomes three, slopping more lube onto your hand like it’s going out of style, and the stretch, the burn of it has you gasping voiceless, breath fogging the mirror as you try to lean forward and reach back at once, as your strange tv-static fingers search for the spot that makes your vision white out.

There. Just like that. Oh you’re so greedy, aren’t you. You’d take my whole fist if I wanted, you’d take it and you’d like it.

Fuck, yes, god you can’t breathe, can’t think, because you’re hitting that spot with every press of your hand now, you could swear you feel fingers gripping at your hair, raking down your chest, closing around you and it’s impossible, impossible, it’s

Me. Come for me, now, that’s it. Don’t look away.

And oh, fuck, that’s all it takes until you’re coming hard, so hard it drives you to your knees, right hand wrenching free and you think maybe you’re dying. Is this what dying feels like?

Obviously not. Now get up. Get dressed. We have such a busy day ahead.

—-

Blinking lights and revelations

—-

He makes you lick your own semen off the dresser. Well, he doesn’t make you exactly; you have the sense that he’s more a passenger than anything, but fuck if it doesn’t get you going anyway. He says clean up after yourself in that weird way that’s like talking but not, like he’s right inside your brain (am I not? What do you think is happening here, boy?) And that weird static feel is ghosting down your spine, nerves firing in a fingertip pattern. So you lick at the wood and fist your cock which is somehow, impossibly, hard again already. Until

No.

“No?”

Drop it. I will tell you when you can touch yourself.

There’s that static again, bursting down your spine to your arm your hand your fingers. Your hand drops open and you breathe hard, pained, every nerve firing at once.

Maybe not just a passenger after all. There’s a rich warm sensation, curling under the skin behind your ear. Try again, pet. See where it gets you.

“Who even are you? Why is this happening, I don’t understand.”

You don’t have to understand. You just have to deal with it.

“But who—“

You don’t know? Even though we fit so well? I think maybe you do know, and you’re scared.

He’s not wrong.

Of course I’m not.

You dress, let Kal out and back in. He looks at you skeptically before disappearing to wherever he goes when he’s not lounging at your feet. You get out egg whites and chicken breast for breakfast which somehow becomes bacon and eggs and those weird American biscuits that are like scones except not. You certainly don’t know how to make them, and yet there they are being formed under your hands. You watch a little, feeling your mind disconnect from your body a bit. Static again.

Your body is a tool. You have to take care of it. And if you don’t, then I will. Now drink.

The water is halfway to your lips before you realize you can’t remember pouring it. The glass drops from your suddenly nerveless fingers.

Well, clean it up. And get another glass. Christ, we’re thirsty. What have you been doing to yourself?

You eat your ridiculous breakfast and drink your water, and you hate it but he’s right. You do feel better. You could almost forget what has turned out to be the weirdest morning of your life so far.

You flex your fingers, roll the stiffness out of your spine and

Oh, fuck. That feels good. Do it again.

What? You go through the motions in reverse, stretching your spine til it pops, shaking out your fingers, flexing them against the opposite palm until you feel yeah the coil of pleasure in your gut. And oh that drops a thought like ice into your veins. A little detail you thought up during one of those never-ending script rewrites, something you’d never shared and had in fact put out of your mind because it was so ridiculous. His hands hurt. They always hurt.

Walker.

This is ridiculous. It’s completely insane, completely impossible, and yet

And yet here we are. Funny, so I exist here too?

“You’re just a character. A figment. You aren’t real.”

Not real, huh? I saw how hard you came with our fingers in your ass.

And oh how your cheeks burn at that. You can still feel echoes of that stretch, that soreness that lingers.

“But if you’re here, then—”

uh-uh. You start to feel that static creeping down your spine—again?—come on, there’s a good boy.

“Honestly? I don’t think I can.”

You can. You think I don’t feel it? That ache, that burn, that little bit too much? Think I can’t feel what makes you weak?

“You’re deflecting.”

And it’s working.

Fuck, he’s right. You hate that he seems to know you as much as you know him. You’re frantically scrabbling through your memories, trying to pull up your sense of Walker-the-character but it’s been two years. Still, you reach bits and pieces, his confidence, his almost aggressive masculinity, his betrayal.

His—

Bright, blinking lights. Shouting. Begging. Asking why—

A burst of static drops you to your knees. It hurts him. This little bit of backstory you’d pulled out of your ass to try and keep Walker consistent in your mind when the script changed every damn day. It hurts him and you take it back, you take it back.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t, I didn’t know.”

—-

“I got a hunger and I can’t seem to get full”

—Bright Eyes

—-

You prod at him like a bruise, a wound, a scab you pull off before it’s healed so you can see, just for a moment, the raw wet flesh before blood comes rushing in, feel the flare of pain as the last of the scab lifts away.

Knock it off.

“Come on. Please. I didn’t know, how could I? I didn’t even think you were real. If I’d known, I wouldn’t— Shit. This isn’t coming out right. Look, if something like that happened to me I wouldn’t want someone digging it up either.”

Something like that.

Something like that? Something like

Static bursting in your head again, loud and overwhelming, the signal lost and all you can do is writhe, all you can do is crawl as it takes you under. Because

The lights are bright, so bright, and the blood roars in your ears as they tie your wrists down tight, as they pull off your nails one by one. As they break your hands lovingly, bone by bone by bone. As they leave you to lie on the floor, gasping through tears and snot, clutching your hands to your chest.

And that was an easy day.

Jesus. The static fades, receding back up into your spine as you lie there gasping, trying to push down the memory because that’s what it was, wasn’t it. Not backstory, not theory, and oh your hands ache with it. So you rub them, thumbs pressing between bones, until the feeling recedes, until you feel a little spreading warmth work its way up your arms.

“I don’t know what to say.”

Don’t.

“I—“

Not happening. Now you know and that’s the end of it. Worry about it on your own time. With anyone else, you’d bring them something to drink, sit close enough that they could lean into you if they wanted. Give them space while offering up your own. Even knowing what kind of man he is, what he’s done, he’s still hurting and you always were taught to help those in need. But here you are more intimately connected than you’ve ever been with anyone before, with Walker so deep inside you, and there’s nothing you can do for him.

Phrasing, boy. Amusement, warm at the back of your neck. Besides, if I was inside you, I doubt you’d have the space to think about it. You feel that static again, radiating out from your spine. It curls around your hips, wraps around your inner thighs. It’s gentle, effervescent. And god help you, but you want more of it.

“Deflecting again?”

Obviously. Now shut up and let me take care of us. It’s nearly soporific, the way he curls around your mind. You can feel him picking at the seams of your worries, brushing them away and leaving an emptiness behind. Let me do this, I’ll make it good.

You’ve thought about it, haven’t you. Thought about the way Walker would fuck. You always do, when you’re feeling out a new character. After all, it’s the closest you can get to another person, the most honest and intimate you can possibly be with someone.

Almost, anyway.

Charles Brandon? Up for nearly anything, anywhere, with anyone. Likes to surprise his partners with a silk bow around his cock. Has a scar in his left armpit from a knifeplay experiment that nearly went very wrong.

Clark Kent? Gives and gives and gives. Always holds himself back, likes it out in the cornfields where he can smell the warm earth. His first orgasm blew out every window in a three-mile radius.

Napoleon Solo? Oh, you don’t really like to think about that one. He’s tried just about everything and enjoyed almost none of it. Would really like to be tied down and petted until he falls asleep, but doesn’t know how to ask for it.

And August Walker?

Come on. Tell me how I like it.

“You, oh Christ this is embarrassing.”

Mmm, is it? I can feel it, you know. You can’t hide from me, not really. Now be a good boy and tell me. I want to hear it from you.

“You—oh hell. You like to leave marks, alright? Cuts, bruises, it doesn’t matter. You just want them to look at themselves after and be reminded of you. You always make it good for them, it’s a point of pride I guess. But you never let go, so you’re never really satisfied.”

Clever. Go on. How do I touch them? I want you to show me.

—-

“And who is to say what flesh should do, and who is to have it for that use?”

—Built to Spill

—-

It’s like this. Your hand is your hand is our hand. Show me.

“I— I don’t even know where to start.”

Same as anything. You start at the beginning. Here, I’ll even make it easy for you.

There’s that creeping, bubbly feeling again but this time it’s crawling up the side of your neck. You follow it with your fingers and yes, good, definitely the right choice. Press your fingers to your lips, try again, move your hand to your hair and tug. There you go. Show me your throat. You can picture him, can’t you, drawing your head back with a grip just the wrong side of too hard. Can feel him nosing at the point of your jaw, biting over your Adam’s apple.

“How in the fuck?”

Your nerves are my nerves. Keep touching. Mmm, yeah, like that. That’s your carotid artery, can you feel the blood pumping? Not too much now, follow the blood down.

And yeah, yeah you can feel your artery pulsing as you press into it with your index finger, hold it long enough to feel that thrumming in your skull, but

Not today.

Fuck but it’s good, it’s so good, hold it long enough and you could drop to the carpet, starve your brain of blood a little and you could

Don’t.

That static again, sharper this time. Driving your hand down, unbuttoning your shirt with one clumsy hand. It’s like you’ve never undressed yourself before. And it hurts, somehow, little prickles of pain at your fingertips with every button. But that creeping static is curling under your shirt as you work, running blunt little tendrils down your chest and circling your nipples until they pebble hard, until your hips make the tiniest movement, seeking any kind of friction you can get, until you open your pants and get yourself out in the open air. Until

“What the fuck?”

You can feel a hand on your cock, sure and strong, but it can’t be yours because by this point you’ve got one hand playing with your tits and the other wrenching your head back by the hair. And you try to speak but the angle of your throat crushes the words, rasps them out weak and strangled.

“Oh, that’s good.” Your voice is doubled, echoing on itself, flat American accent chasing your own. His words are hot in your throat and you can’t tell if it’s actually good or not; it’s like being in a hall of mirrors and not knowing which way is out and which way will break your nose against the glass. He’s like fire in your throat, under your skin, everywhere.

Fuck, you’ve got that tightening coil in your gut and this might be it, might be the first time you’ve ever come untouched

Untouched? Really? I’m insulted.

And then you feel it. That hot white spark inside, the one you’ve only sometimes managed to hit with fingers and a careful angle, the spark that makes your balls draw up tight and your cock pulse even as something just barely holds you back from the edge. Whatever it is, it’s

“Christ. I— what is that? How are you—?” You’re wound tight, so tight. All it would take is the smallest push; you’re so hard you’re sweating and your nails are tearing at your chest, at your scalp, everywhere except where you most need your hands to be. And when you feel the first tears start to prick at your eyes, you hear him.

Hey. He sounds— stretched, somehow. You ever come so hard you see God? And with a flare of fire deep inside, you do. You come harder than you ever have in your life, and it’s the last thing you know for a long, long while.

[silversatoru]

hot chocolate

megumi x yuuji 

synopsis: megumi’s days get a little less boring when yuuji starts stopping by his coffee shop 

tags/warnings: fluff, college au!, coffee shop au!, characters are aged up, making out, swearing

word count: 3780

The whipped cream bottle whizzed and sputtered, the scarce remains of its contents flying all over the counter. Megumi stifled a few cuss words under his breath, silently cursing whoever finished the whipped cream and didn't replace it with a new one. He tossed it in the garbage and drug himself into the back of the shop in search of a fresh bottle. He was only two hours into his shift at his university's coffee shop, but it had easily been the longest two hours of his life. Midterms were this week, meaning every student on campus was stopping by for some extra caffeine to get through their day.

When he finally returned with his new container of whipped cream, the line of students had nearly doubled — what a hassle. He threw a quick, fluffy spiral of cream onto the drink he'd been working on and gave it to the customer, apologizing for the wait. He shoved the money into the old cash register and handed them their change, a small sigh leaving his lips as the next customer approached.

It was an athletic looking boy with pink spiky hair and a round face. He wore a baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants, and his rose-colored hair looked as if he had just rolled out of bed. Megumi didn't recognize him, which was weird because he had a knack for memorizing the faces of every student who walked in and out of the shop.

"Hi, what can I get for you today?" Megumi spoke in his signature monotone voice, too tired to add any customer service flare.

"I'm not sure," The boy stared up at the menu with a terribly confused expression on his face.

"What do you mean you're not sure?" Megumi stared at the boy like he had two heads — he'd been waiting in line for at least ten minutes and he still hadn't decided?

"Well, I don't actually like coffee. So, I'm not sure what to get," he stated bluntly.

"If you don't like coffee, why did you come to a coffee shop. We literally only sell coffee," Megumi deadpanned.

"Well, I want to try and force myself like coffee — acquire the taste, you know? For the caffeine and stuff. Maybe you could recommend me a drink?"

"Uh... yeah sure. I'll just make you what I usually get," Megumi had to forcibly stop himself from rolling his eyes at the customer.

"Okay, great!" The pink-haired student called after him as he walked over to the array of coffee machines.

Megumi grabbed a cup for hot beverages, sliding it under the latte machine and filling the it with the warm brown liquid. He stirred in some oat milk and a drizzle of honey before topping it off with a layer of cream. He made his way back over to the peculiar customer and carefully handed him the drink.

"It's a honey oat milk latte," Megumi stated plainly.

"I'm not even sure what a latte is, but thank you!" His lips twisted into a toothy smile as he handed Megumi his debit card.

The dark-haired boy swiped his card through then machine and finished the transaction before returning it to the boy, "Have a nice day".

"Thanks, you too! My name is Itadori Yuuji by the way, it was nice to meet you...," he squinted his eyes in attempt to read Megumi's name badge, "Fushiguro! That's a cool name".

"Uh, thanks. I have to help the next customer now," Megumi rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly — this whole interaction was so weird.

"Oh, right. Thank you again!" He called out as he turned and left the shop.

Megumi found it impossibly hard to concentrate on his job after that. For some reason his mind was consumed by his interaction with Itadori Yuuji — the peculiar pink-haired student. He found himself still thinking about it later that night, even after working all morning and attending classes all afternoon. No amount of school work was able to distract his mind from this stupid new boy.

When he woke up the next morning and slipped on his apron before heading to work, he wondered if the pink-haired boy would be back again today. He searched all morning for a head of fluffy pink hair amongst the hoards of students, but he never came.

Around ten o'clock the coffee shop always dies down, as all the students and teachers are in class. Megumi leaned back against the counter and pulled out his phone, mindlessly scrolling through twitter while he waited for a customer to show up.

The golden bells hanging from the front door emitted a soft ringing sound, signaling that someone had entered the shop. Megumi looked up to see a baggy sweatshirt and messy pink hair, and for some reason his heart jumped.

"Hey, Fushiguro!" Yuuji's face was plastered with a bright smile.

Megumi scrunched up his nose, it was weird for the boy to call him by his name — they didn't even know each other.

"Hey, how was the honey oat milk latte?" Megumi slid his phone back into his pocket and approached the counter.

"Oh, it was terrible. Fucking awful, actually," Yuuji's faced scrunched up in horror as he reminisced on the atrociously bitter flavor.

Megumi was genuinely offended. Yuuji could have told him he was the ugliest person he'd ever seen, that he had the personality of a brick wall, but to insult his coffee? That was crossing a line. Megumi knew his coffee-making skills were impeccable.

"Excuse me?" Was all he could manage.

"Yeah, it was probably one of the worst things I've ever put in my mouth. Anyway, I was hoping to try something different today," Yuuji said nonchalantly, his hands resting comfortably in the pocket of his hoodie.

"Okay..." Megumi took a deep breath, trying desperately to keep his cool, "What would you like to try?"

"Could you just make something for me again? I really don't know what to order".

"But you hated my last recommendation," Megumi stared at him blankly.

"Yeah... but eventually you'll have to make something I like," Yuuji insisted.

Megumi grumbled a quick "alright" and headed back over to the machinery, searching his mind for a recipe Yuuji might like. Eventually, he decided on a caramel macchiato — everyone likes those. He handed Yuuji the drink and the pink haired boy quickly payed before leaving the shop again.

Megumi watched him as he walked past the coffee shop windows and took a sip of his drink. The pink haired boy's face twisted with disgust, and he looked like he could barely keep the liquid down. He immediately took another sip, his body having the exact same reaction as the first time. Megumi let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head as he watched that absolute idiot until he could no longer see him.

He continued to refer to Yuuji as stupid, weird, or annoying, but that was completely contradictory to the fact that he couldn't get the pink-haired boy out of his mind. He found himself wondering if he would come back again for a third time, and if he did, what drink would Megumi make him? A small part of him was getting invested in this outlandish journey of finding a drink that Yuuji actually liked.

That night Megumi had a revelation — maybe hot coffee just wasn't Yuuji's thing. He decided that tomorrow he'd make him something cold, that was sure to work.

So, when the third day rolled around and Yuuji's messy pink hair came waltzing into the campus coffee shop, Megumi made him an iced cinnamon dolce latte. This time though, Yuuji followed him over to the array of coffee machines, asking him questions about how coffee was made. Megumi found himself explaining the entire process, from how the coffee is brewed to what sweeteners and creams he was adding to this particular beverage. He was honestly appalled by his own actions, he would never put in this kind of effort for any of his other customers — so what made Yuuji so different?

"So, what's your major?" Yuuji questioned while Megumi dusted some cinnamon over the top of his drink.

"Biology with a minor in veterinary technology," Megumi answered without looking up at him, snapping the plastic lid onto the coffee cup.

"Ohhh somebody's smart," Yuuji mused, "Animals, huh?"

"Yeah, they don't talk as much as people do," Megumi said, only half-joking.

"Right? People can be so annoying sometimes," Yuuji shook his head.

Megumi found his lips cracking into the tiniest smile — how ironic and blissfully unaware this boy was. He seemed to truly live life without a care in the world.

"What's yours?" Megumi asked, finally stretching out his arm and handing the pink-haired boy his iced coffee.

"Oh, sports med," Yuuji responded, his nose scrunching up as he took the first sip of his drink.

That answer didn't surprise Megumi at all, given the boy's athletic physique it was obvious he was into that sort of thing. The poor reaction to Megumi's coffee didn't surprise him either — this endeavor to find him a drink he likes is proving to be futile.

"Not good?"

"So bad," Yuuji shook his head, his eyes filled with despair and disgust, "We'll find one eventually though!"

"Maybe," Megumi didn't know it, but his face softened when he talked to Yuuji, his shoulders fell and his jaw unclenched.

There was so something so simple and calming about conversing with that strange boy.

"Well, thanks anyway! See you tomorrow Fushiguro!" His voice rung out through the shop — he really had no volume control when he spoke.

Megumi found himself watching Yuuji through the windows until he could no longer see him again —this was becoming a bad habit.

When the rush of students on their way to morning classes finally died down, one of his coworkers approached him.

"Sweet cream?" The boy questioned him, one of his eyebrows raised in suspicion.

His coworkers name was Inumaki Toge, and he was deaf and mute — selectively mute, anyway. He only communicated in words related to coffee, which was entirely too strange for most people, but Megumi didn't mind.

The two of them had been friends since Megumi first got this job two years ago. They'd even created their own communication system — Toge would talk in coffee terms, which translated to certain things that really only Megumi understood. Then, the dark-haired boy would respond in sign language, a skill he learned just so he could talk to the boy. It broke his stone-cold heart when he first started working here and saw Toge was always alone in the back of the shop. Most students didn't have the time or energy to learn a whole new language for the sake of someone they didn't know, but Megumi decided to put in the effort.

Megumi rolled his eyes, signing that no, he and the pink-haired boy were not friends.

"Americano," Toge furiously crossed his arms over his chest, accusing Megumi of lying to him.

I'm not lying! He's been coming here the past few days for coffee. I don't know why he talks to me so much, Megumi quickly signed back, his eyes narrowed at the white-haired boy.

Toge rolled his eyes at him in the hardest, most exaggerated way possible.

He's just a customer Toge, don't look at me like that, Megumi folded his fingers into the different signs, his frustration towards the mute boy growing.

"Espresso," Toge mumbled under his breath, twisting and returning to his spot at the back of the shop where would grind coffee beans and restock their shelves.

What? You're out of your fucking mind Toge. I do not like him, he's just a regular customer, Megumi angrily signed at him, but it was to no use, as the deaf boy had already turned around and was paying him no mind.

Their conversation lingered in his head for the remainder of the day though, because maybe Toge was onto something. Megumi was terrified to admit it, but Yuuji's daily visits had quickly become the best part of his day, even if he was kind of annoying.

And it continued to be the best part of his day for the next few weeks. Yuuji would come to the shop everyday and they would make pointless small talk while Megumi brewed him new drinks to try. Not a single one ever suited his palate, but he continued to return none the less. His motives were becoming questionable at this point — was he still coming for the coffee, or had this turned into something much bigger?

So, when winter break was right around the corner, and the last day of classes began, Megumi wondered what his days would be like when he didn't have their daily interactions to look forward to.

It was especially snowy today — enough to dust the ground and freeze the air, but not enough for classes to get canceled. Bundled students trudged in and out of the shop, buying coffees and hot chocolates in attempt to keep themselves warm. Their was an excited energy in the air though, it seemed everyone was thrilled for fall semester to be over — everyone except Megumi.

His heart skipped a few beats when Yuuji's familiar soft face appeared in the door.

"Hey, Megumi!" He called out, waving his had furiously through the air.

Somehow they had transitioned to a first name basis about a week ago — the dark-haired boy wasn't even sure how it happened but he certainty didn't mind it.

"Hey, you want something warm or cold today?"

"Definitely warm," Yuuji answered quickly, a shiver coursing its way through his body.

Megumi nodded, getting to work on something that he was sure Yuuji would like.

"Are you visiting family over break?" Yuuji wasted no time addressing their winter-break dilemma.

"No," Megumi shrugged his shoulders, he was one of the very few students who never went home on holidays.

"No family to visit. I live in an off-campus apartment so I just stay here over breaks".

Megumi expected Yuuji to frown, maybe even show him some pity for his unfortunate situation, but he did the complete opposite instead. He lips spread into the widest smile, and he swore he saw him jump in excitement.

"Me too! I used to visit my grandfather, but he died a couple years ago. My holidays have been pretty lonely".

Megumi looked up at him, a bewildered expression on his face. Who could have known that someone as cheerful as Yuuji was carrying such a burden?

"Where do you live? Maybe we could hang out over break," the pink-haired boy cocked his head to the side.

"Second street," Megumi answered, filling Yuuji's cup with steaming brown liquid.

He certainly wasn't opposed to the idea of seeing Yuuji more often, but it scared him just as much as it excited him.

"I live on Third! I can't believe we haven't run into each other before," Yuuji gasped.

Megumi wordlessly finished up the hot drink, subtly scribbling his address and his phone number onto the coffee label while the other boy blabbed on about how close they lived. When he was done he held it out to him, the pink-haired boy reaching out with his mitten-covered hands to take the drink.

He took a small sip and his eyes sparkled like they held the stars inside of them.

"This is so good! What kind is it?" Yuuji asked, eagerly taking another sip and inevitably burning his tongue on the hot beverage.

"Hot chocolate," Megumi spoke plainly, "I've come to the conclusion that it's impossible for you to like coffee".

"You're probably right," Yuuji nodded, "I think I'm more of a hot chocolate guy".

"No, you're a child with immature taste in drinks," Megumi scrunched up his nose.

Yuuji faked offense, and then held up his hand and attempted to flip Megumi off through his mitten — but it didn't really work.

That's when he noticed the dark-haired boy's phone number and address scribbled on the side of his cup. A light blush dusted over his cheeks and he offered Megumi a warm smile.

"I'll see you around!" He called.

A thousand butterflies flew around Megumi's stomach as he watched the boy leave and walk down the snowy sidewalk. What the hell kind of cheesy hallmark movie was his life turning into?

"Americano," Toge's accusatory voice shook Megumi out of his trance.

Okay fine, maybe I'm a liar. Fuck off, Megumi signed at him, to which the deaf boy chuckled to himself.

                                                             ☃

It was Christmas Eve now, and classes had ended a few days ago. Megumi checked his phone obsessively, but a text from Yuuji never appeared. He started to doubt that the boy actually meant what he said about wanting to hang out — maybe he was just being nice and Megumi had taken it the wrong way. He couldn't help but feel disappointed, no matter how much he wished he didn't care. He'd even taken a container of the coffee shops' hot chocolate powder for Yuuji. He planned on gifting it to him, because he had liked it so much.

So, when six o'clock at night rolled around and there was still no sign of the cheery pink-haired boy, he felt his heart squeeze in his chest. Who knew he was so invested in this idiot?

A light knock on his front door pulled him out of his thoughts, and his heart leaped into his throat. He peered through the small peep hole of his door and euphoria spread through his body — the stupid, spiky-haired boy had finally arrived.

He opened the door and Yuuji immediately blushed, his eyes wide as he looked around Megumi's apartment.

"Hi," He squeaked, "Sorry I didn't text or anything".

"It's okay," He ushered the boy inside and closed the door behind him.

"I stopped at a convenience store and bought some cookie dough. I thought we could make them, since yanno, it's a Christmas Eve thing".

Megumi found his own cheeks get warm at the other boy's forwardness. Baking cookies felt so familial, not like something you'd do with a coffee shop acquaintance. But none the less, he nodded his head and guided Yuuji into the kitchen.

The awkwardness between them quickly melted away as they rolled out the dough and attempted to cut out fun Christmas-themed shapes. Megumi chewed on his bottom lip as he focused on the intricate snowflake cookie was trying to make, his perfectionism getting way too involved. Yuuji on the other hand held up a half-smushed blob with a few spikes coming out of the top and two holes punched through the middle.

"It's you!" he laughed, holding his monstrosity of a cookie up for Megumi to see.

The dark-haired boy scoffed, "That's terrible, it looks nothing like me".

"Sorry, Mr. I'm smart and good at art. Are you sure you're not a sculpting student or something?" Yuuji stuck his nose in the air, carefully placing his Megumi cookie on the greased metal tray.

They each cut out a couple more shapes before the oven let out a loud ding to let them know it was preheated. Megumi picked up the tray and shuffled over to the oven, carefully placing it on the top rack. He closed the door before standing up and turning around — bumping right into Yuuji, who for some reason was standing right behind him. They were the exact same height, so Megumi's nose practically slammed into Yuuji's. He blushed furiously, quickly backing up into the counter.

"Sorry," he mumbled a quick apology, though Yuuji had been the one standing right behind him, so maybe he should apologize.

"Can I ask you a question?" Yuuji cocked his head to the side, completely ignoring Megumi's apology.

"Sure?" Megumi gave him a confused look.

"This is more than just two coffee shop friends hanging out, right? You can kick me out if I'm wrong, but if I'm right, I'd really like to kiss you while those cookies bake".

Megumi's eyes widened, his heart thumping hard against the walls of his chest. Of course he wanted to kiss Yuuji, he'd wanted to for weeks — it was all he thought about while he brewed him his stupid coffees everyday.

"Yeah... yeah, you're right," Megumi nodded, those few words were all that he could manage.

That clarification was all that Yuuji needed, a soft smile blossoming on his face before he stepped forward and cupped his fingers around the back of Megumi's neck. Heat spread through his face as their lips collided, every other one of his senses fading away as his body honed in on Yuuji's touch.

He'd been kissed before, several times by both men and women — but none of them compared to this. None of them were this gentle, soft, and electrifying all at the same time. Yuuji's fingers curled into the base of Megumi's hair, and he found his own hands tracing up the sides of the others' torso. He was completely drowning in the ocean that was Yuuji's lips, his mind growing foggy. He'd imagined what this would be like far too many times, but never once did he think it would be this good.

The ten minute timer Megumi had set on the oven started blaring through the kitchen, and he couldn't believe it had been that long already. A soft sigh escaped his throat as Yuuji pulled away, a smile tugging at the other's lips.

"I didn't expect so much experience from the quiet coffee barista," Yuuji poked at him, his eyes glistening with a fire that hadn't been there before.

"Don't judge a book by its cover, I guess," Megumi shrugged, grabbing his oven mitt and pulling the cookies out of the oven.

The pink-haired boy let out a light chuckle, immediately trying to grab a cookie off the metal sheet. Megumi swatted his hand away, insisting that the cookies would be too hot eat right away.

Megumi found his lips intertwined with Yuuji's again after setting down the tray — after all they'd have to pass the time while the cookies cooled somehow.

And so for the first time in a long time, Megumi didn't spend Christmas alone. Rather, he spent it with an overly-cheerful pink-haired boy who became a ray of sunshine in his life of clouds. Though he wished he liked his coffee, Megumi had no problem with brewing him hot chocolate instead. And he did, every morning for the rest of the spring semester he always had a cup of hot chocolate ready for Yuuji. He'd even stopped charging him for it at this point, throwing on a free drink discount every time he came.

[huntergatherercreator]

Take Me Back

Pairing: Tom Holland x reader

Warnings: Smut, mention of cheating and alcohol abuse, break-up angst

Note: Have I really just written something not mob!tom related? I’m as shocked as you are. This is my first time posting something that contains sexual content on this level, it’s kinda nerve wracking so any feedback would be appreciated! Also, let me know if I’ve missed any warnings I should have added.

-------

2,032 words

The bar wasn’t your usual scene. You preferred local, intimate places not clubs like this. Despite being underground the mirrored ceiling made it feel twice as open. You looked out over the dance floor from the mezzanine at the entrance door searching for your friends. Rhythmic lighting spilled over the space. It was almost filled to capacity with bodies dancing to bass so loud it reverberated through the soles of your new shoes.

An exaggerated wave from the middle of the bar caught your attention and you smiled as your friend signalled you over. Gripping the handrail of the metal steps you took a breath before descending. You still weren’t completely comfortable with the outfit you’d been talked into wearing but judging by the looks you were getting as you cut across the floor it wasn’t as bad as you’d initially feared.

“Damn, Y/N! You look incredible!” Your friend gushed pulling you in beside her at the bar. Signalling to the bartender she had them pour out two shots. Turning to you with a devilish grin she offered you a lime wedge.

“No way. I just got here,” you refused. As much as you enjoyed drinking the past three months had been filled with nights spent at the bottom of a bottle. You were slowly getting back control. Reigning yourself in after the worst breakup you’d ever experienced but it was a slow process.

A lot of your recovery had to do with the guy you’d met a few weeks ago. Tonight was the first night he’d meet your best friend, the one whose opinion could make or break the possible relationship.

With a sulky pout she downed her own. “So, when will this mystery man of yours get here?”

“He should be here soon.” Your friend leaned her back against the bar, eyes scanning the room.

“Hmm...is it him?” she mused pointing to a guy with too much hair product. “No,” she shook her head, “it’s got to be him.” You followed her finger and snorted a laugh as you watched a guy dancing awkwardly in the corner.  

“Stop it. You’ll know him when you see him,” you promised. Turning back to the bar to order a beer you heard her gasp even over the loud music. In the mirrors lining the glass shelves you could see him approaching and couldn’t stop a smile. Your friend not so subtly nudged you.

“Is this real? Is he coming over? My god, he’s gorgeous” she babbled. You took a long sip of your beer and decided to let her work it out on her own.

“He looks like he works out so much. Those jeans, that t-shirt...” You could practically hear her drooling before she quickly spun to face you. “Shit, he’s actually coming over, what do we..”

“Hey, Y/N.” Settling your beer on a napkin you watched your friends eyes widen, mouth agape. With a laugh you finally faced him. His smile faltered as he took you in, a faint blush creeping up his face.

“You look amazing.” Leaning into you his hand rested on your hip as he kissed your cheek.

Just as your friend had said, Adam was gorgeous. Standing a good foot above you with tousled blonde hair and classic baby blues he wasn’t your normal type, which is exactly why you’d gone for him. After the last failed relationship it was clear what you were attracted to and what you needed were two different things. Adam was your clean slate. Your fresh start.

It was different with him. There hadn’t been an instant attraction but the more you got to know him the more relaxed you felt. Sure there was still no flutter when he kissed you, no spark, but given enough time you were sure that would grow.

You introduced your friend who was still having a hard time closing her mouth all the way, then using Adam’s height to your advantage you got him to find a free table at the edge of the room. Sliding into the booth between them you settled in for the interrogation. He didn’t seem phased. He linked his warm fingers with yours and answered as honestly as possible. Watching him you couldn’t help but smile as he devoutly tried to stop his gaze from wandering to the low cut of your dress and the way his cheek flushed when he failed.

Beer finished you excused yourself to grab a new round for the table. The queue at the bar was steadily getting busier as the night went on. You tried to work your way further down to a quieter spot, keeping your head down and gently elbowing your way through the groups. A gap opened up and you rushed to move into the space only to collide with someone. Your foot slipped on a spilled drink and a strong hand caught your waist to steady you. Cheeks heating from embarrassment you internally cursed your shoes. Gathering some courage you glanced up to thank your saviour and the words died in your throat.

Soft chestnut eyes stared down at you intently. You’re heart hammered under their gaze, sweat starting to make your hands clammy. You’d thought you’d never see him again. You’d hoped you wouldn’t. But here he was, looking immaculate in an all black suit and even better than you remembered. The heat of his hand against your waist seemed to sear through your dress and you tried to step back out of his reach but he only pulled you closer.

“Y/N.” The room seemed to still, the music dimming. All you could hear was his voice. The rough edge it held when he said your name had your body reacting as if the last few months hadn’t happened. You clenched your fists hating how with one word he could get under your skin again after all this time.

“Let me go.” You barely managed to whisper out the words but you knew he’d heard. He downed what was left in his glass and brushed against you as he placed it on the bar. The scent of him wrapped around you triggering memories that you’d tried to suppress.

Leaning in his lips brushed your ear as he spoke. “We need to talk.” Irritation flared. Who did he think he was? It had been months and now he wanted to talk? Steeling yourself you shoved his hand away.

“I have nothing to say to you, Tom.”

“Then listen.” You made the mistake of meeting his eyes and the intensity radiating from them dried up your protest.

“The guy you’re with is no good.” You jerked back away from him and he had the gall to look surprised.

Anger snaking through you, you felt your lip curl. “He’s none of your business. I’m none of your business.” Elbowing past him you fought the crowd blindly. You had to get away from him.

Reaching the back wall you slipped into a side hallway marked private. The music dimmed to a muted thump and you let out a ragged breath. As your adrenaline started to dip you started shaking. Wrapping your arms around yourself you tried to calm down.

“Y/N.” You cursed as you sensed him approach but refused to turn. Seeing him, seeing how little he’d changed and knowing how readily you still reacted to him was too much.

“Leave me alone.”

“Y/N, you shouldn’t be with him.” He’d stopped behind you, his breath ruffling your hair as he spoke.

You couldn’t hold back a bitter laugh. “You’re just saying that because you can’t stand to see me with someone else.” The beat of silence that followed had a chill creeping over your skin. Don’t look at him, don’t do it. Your fingers tightened into fists as you fought against yourself. God you wanted to turn around. You wanted to run your fingers through his soft curls, you wanted to breathe in the indescribable scent that was Tom as he held you and...

Hands skimming over your waist he closed the gap. His chest against your back you shivered at the warmth he radiated. You held back a soft moan as his lips ghosted over your throat.

“He’s not right for you,” he breathed. Your mind conjured an image of Adam and the realisation of what you were doing doused you like ice water. You spun out of Tom’s grip, palm pressed against the wall to steady yourself.

“You walked away from me, remember?” Your voice shook with effort as you tried to fight back tears. Tom grimaced, eyes lowering. Your heart ached at his expression but anger chased it off. “You don’t get to act the martyr, Tom, and you certainly don’t get to have a say in my love life.”

Gaze flashing up to you his shoulders set, jaw working for a long second before he spoke.

“Do you?”

“Do I what?” you snapped.  

“Do you love him?” Taken aback your mouth fell open. When you didn’t answer he took a step forward. He searched your face, gaze dipping to your lips hungrily. Your stomach dipped traitorously as heat pooled through you.

“Tom,” you warned, voice barely a whisper. He was too far gone to listen.

Hands cupping your face his lips brushed against yours, feather light and testing your reaction. Your body lit up at his touch. Nerve endings that had been dormant firing to life. Despite everything your body craved his touch, needed him on a deeper level than you understood.

Fingers drifting to caressed your neck, he pushed you back against the wall. You gasped at the cold, arching against Tom’s chest to escape it and he mistook your movements as encouragement. Gripping your hip to pull you even closer he deepened the kiss. You could feel his excitement as he pressed against you and it broke your last reserve of control.

Lips parting you relinquished to him. Tongue flicking out to claim your mouth the familiar taste of sweet whisky brushed over your taste buds. His fingers drifted from your neck. Following the low V of your dress he traced the channel between your breasts before slipping them under the fabric. He let out a low groan as he realised you weren’t wearing a bra. Teeth nipping at your bottom lip his fingers massaged you, thumb circling your nipple drawing out whimpers.

Your hands wound into his hair, tugging at the curls. Lifting a leg to wrap around his waist you gasped as he rutted his hips against you. The soft fabric covering his erection brushed against you teasingly. Hiking your other leg around his waist he held you firmly against the wall, fingers digging into your ass. He dipped his head to kiss your neck, biting and suckling at the sensitive spot above your collar bone until you could barely think. Your underwear was ruined.

Slipping a hand between your bodies you traced the outline of his bulge slowly, intent on dragging it out like you’d imagined on long nights without him. When he bucked against your hand with a needy moan you knew you’d never be able to keep it up.

“Y/N?” The distant voice broke you from your trance. You tried to break away from Tom but he held you tight.

“Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll let you go back to him.” The ragged edge to his voice had you shivering.

“Tom,” you pleaded, heart breaking all over again as he watched you with tormented eyes.

“I made a mistake. I should never have let you go.” His lips ghosted over yours. “Tell me you’ll take me back,” he begged.

The sound of Adam calling for you started to grow louder but here in Tom’s arms the guilt and regret you should be feeling was kept at bay. All you wanted was him. Even if it was only temporary, even if it was only for tonight.

“I want you, Tom.” He relaxed, relief flooding his expression before he caught you in another heady kiss.

“Let’s get out of here.” The grin you’d missed so much lit his face as he gently put you down and guided you towards the emergency exit.

[cno-inbminor]

hello, kay! i hope you've been taking care of yourself well and that life has been kind to you for the most part. i want to ask, how do you feel about kita shinsuke? your akaashi is exquisite and incredibly characterized that i always find myself coming back to your stories should i need my keiji fics, and i realized that it would probably be really interesting (and beautiful) to meet kita through your words. no pressure, tho! as always, i am grateful for whatever you write. ♡ all the love x

you’re an absolute sweetie -- i hope you’ve been well too! i’m honestly at my wit’s end but we’ll survive somehow, right? ahahaha // i’m still incredibly flustered whenever someone mentions how much they like my keiji characterization -- he’s one of the ultimate comfort characters for sure! so thank you for giving my keiji fics that honor <3 

i’ve definitely developed some love for kita over time! i love anyone who’s incredibly dependable -- my love language (that i’ve recently re-discovered) is acts of service and i can see him embodying that! 

i got carried away: here’s ~1.7k of some hazy kita appreciation, or some strangers-to-lovers ideas sprinkled together. my brain has died from finals, but i hope you like this anon!

-

the first time that kita shinsuke even crosses your mind, you mistakenly think, “he’s certainly a bit dull.” 

it’s not that you forgot he existed by any means -- the boy certainly carries a presence and emanates it in a calm, quiet manner. you just can’t remember him saying anything that wasn’t related to speaking out loud in class or social pleasantries. he’s certainly not much more than a blank canvas to you, and the only splotch of color thrown on is that he’s a member of your nationally recognized volleyball team. other than that, you know nothing else.

it all changes when you two are paired for classroom cleaning duties your third year. 

when your homeroom teacher announces your name after his, you glance away from the window to the boy sitting diagonally in front of you to your right. his back sits upright, elbows bent to indicate he’s probably sitting with his hands linked on top of his desk, legs still and placed together underneath the wood. besides the two-toned grey and black hair, you would think he’d be the perfect poster child for japanese education. 

the first morning of cleaning duties, you’re sprinting through the halls in your slippers, hoping that the student council president isn’t anywhere near your classroom. the subway was absolutely packed and nobody seemed to be in the usual pace of the morning rush, which caused some delays and for you to cut it very close. you slide open the class door with all the force you can muster, panting and out of breath with apologies falling off your tongue. unbeknownst to you, your brain had been expecting kita to give you a small smile and ensure that it was okay for your two minute tardiness -- instead, you were at the receiving end of a blank yet heavy stare, and seemingly scathing words of, “don’t be late next time.” 

your second thought of kita is that he’s too rigid and austere for a seventeen year old. bitterness festers in your chest as you practically stomp towards your desk, setting your stuff down before you head to the erasers in front of the chalkboard. even though there isn’t much dust left on them, you’re searching for excuses to calm down and be a little more level-headed. 

you’re so caught up in your thoughts and staring out into the open sky that you don’t register kita’s presence looming near. but it’s his timbre voice that startles you out of your stupor, though they’re nothing more special than, “you can sweep the other half of the classroom. i’m getting started on the desks,” and he walks away. 

in gliding the bristles over the wooden floor, you take another peek at your partner for the time being. it’s hard to miss the way he methodically cleans each wooden surface, leaving no corner unwiped, no speck of dust lingering. something about it is somewhat endearing to you, a rather drastic juxtaposition to how you were feeling not too long ago. maybe you were wrong about him -- kita shinsuke might still be a little boring to you, but he’s just...diligent. 

in home ec, you’re partnered up with ojiro aran (which proves to be in the best of your luck). but he’s good with small talk, and it’s not like you two have never spoken before. so three weeks later over the folding of meringue into the other batter, you decide to pop the question of, “what’s kita-san like as captain?” 

aran can’t contain his muted surprise at your inquiry, seeing as you two rarely ever get into the details of his volleyball playing, much less so about his team. but it doesn’t stop him from giving a truthful answer, “he’s no nonsense, keeps everyone in line. we have some rowdy underclassmen and no one scares them more than shinsuke.”

“a hardass?”

“when he needs to be,” aran chuckles. “but he’s very thoughtful and goes out of his way to care for everyone. the guy lives and breathes by routine.” 

there’s something that stirs within you, a small flame being lit, one that flares the next morning when kita walks by your desk and greets you, “good morning, l/n-san.” seeing as he usually never does, you stumble over your reply and shock, all the while berating your heart for beating as fast as it is. kita’s just being polite and using social pleasantries, nothing more. 

but he does it the next morning, and then the next, and even incorporates, “how are you?” into his line of words on days you two clean. little by little, you get to know more about him -- not a lot, but enough to correct yourself for ever thinking that he’s a dull, austere, mean human being. you tell yourself it’s nothing more, especially when you start looking forward to their games and join the student cheering squad. it’s nothing when you eagerly await for the moments that kita gets subbed in; absolutely nothing when he looks away from the court and into the crowd, catching your eyes and allowing his lips to slip into a demure smile before turning back around. the pounding of your heart and sweating of your hands aren’t related at all, just physiological effects of the game. 

and before you know it, graduation comes around and you think you’ll never see him again after this. you’re laughing and taking pictures with your classmates, later spotting aran over the crowd of families. he catches your waving arm and bounding figure, bright grin on his face as he congratulates you. “i’ll miss you all,” you confess and aran affectionately pats your head. “same here. have you seen shinsuke?”

your brows furrow. “no, why? is he looking for me?”

“you sound confused by that. weren’t you two friends?”

“i wouldn’t overassume that...but i doubt i’m on his mind right now.”

aran only nods and adopts a pensive look, taking a moment to think before confessing, “you meant something to him. after all, he greeted you every morning, right?”

you nod. “but what does that have to do with anything?”

aran’s parents interrupt and attempt to drag him away before he can answer, but he beckons for them to give him another minute. quickly, he pulls you into a one-arm hug, telling you over the bustling crowd, “you were part of his routine.” 

you’re stunned, frozen in your tracks as aran and his family walk away. their departure creates some space between everyone, and you find yourself looking straight into the golden eyes of the man that had been plaguing your thoughts for months now. he doesn’t back down, not out of defiance though -- rather, he seems to be trying to convey that he sees you, acknowledges your existence and long wedged a placeholder for you in his life. 

but the spell is broken when one of your relatives tugs on your arm for you to leave and go home for a big lunch celebration, and that’s the last you see of him.

at least for the next two years. you have a part-time job at osamu’s onigiri shop, having met the man in some cooking classes over the years. while you’re up front most of the time, you occasionally help out in the kitchen during rush hours. evidently, you missed any of the information on the exact source of the rice, remembering nothing more than the fact it was special and held a certain place in osamu’s heart -- because when kita shinsuke walks in to make a special, personal visit, your brain splutters and ceases all deep cognitive functioning.

he looks well, happy, strong, more than he did back in high school. the same air of confidence still surrounds him and encases the entirety of the shop, and instincts nearly have you dropping to your knees so you can hide behind the counter and catch your breath. 

“oh shinsuke, you’re here!” osamu calls out from behind you, popping out of the kitchen to help with the rice bags. the most you can muster is a gentle bow before messing with the cash register, pretending to be busy organizing receipts and bills. you tune out most of the conversation cleaning counters, checking customers out, wiping down tables, and anything else that’ll take your mind off the guy your heart could never seem to forget. 

but osamu bidding goodbye to kita snaps you out of your reverie. and instead of walking towards the door, kita’s figure approaches you until there’s nothing but 5 feet of wood between the two of you. “it’s good to see you,” he greets softly, a gentle expression casting onto his face and tone. 

“i-it’s good to see you too, kita-san,” you barely reply in time, doing everything you can to fight the blood rushing into your face. 

“i’d like to take you out for coffee when your shift is over, if that’s okay.”

oh. 

“oh, well, yes, but um, my shift doesn’t end for another hour and--”

“oh, you’re good to go for the rest of the day,” osamu calls out with his head popped out the kitchen door, sending a knowing look towards his former captain. in fact, you remember that the owner had been somewhat insistent that you come work today of all days and you never knew why...until now.

that fucker.

shinsuke’s eyes glimmer as the realization hits you, the same demure smile as the one he sent you all those years ago during a volleyball game sitting on his lips. excitement bubbles within you, and you attempt to tease, “only if you can untie my apron for me?”

there’s no hesitation in his demeanor as he walks around the counter and plants himself right in front of you, mere centimeters between the tips of your shoes and his. you can’t bear to look away as an arm reaches around easily undo the bow at your lower back. neither do you miss the ghosting of his fingertips at your waist that burn through the cotton of your t-shirt, and you’re just thankful that no customers are around to witness this heated, intimate moment. 

“lead the way, captain,” you can’t help but say. something dark and dangerous crosses his eyes, sending a thrilling shiver down your spine. and you think that yes, yes indeed, you’d like to see those eyes more often if you can. 

[skellebonez]

You write Tang and Red's dynamic so well! Could I ask for more Tang being a wholesome dad to Red with 7 please?

Tang and TLT Red are really interesting to write like this, I could write 500 prompts of them interacting! I decided to go slightly farther back in the timeline for this one. Like. VERY far back in the timeline. So far back this is how Tang decided he was dad now back.

I am apparently incapable of not writing things that are nearly full length fics right now. This is as long as a chapter of SFAUT.

“Do you need anything else?”

The new routine... or was it a habit? Both? Whatever it was,Tang had decided it was alright, despite the fact it had first started out of a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. How could it not have, with one of the first and most stubbornly determined enemies that had been fighting MK showed up at Pigsy’s Noodle’s after hours with two Bull Clones holding onto the side of his truck, haphazardly packed with boxes they could see through the windows and holding an injured arm?

“As of 6 hours ago I am no longer assisting my parents” was the explanation Red Son had given, short and to the point, when they had all raised their weapons (makeshift in the case of himself and Pigsy) at the sight. No one had believed him at the time, but apparently something made MK stop the demon when he made to leave without another word.

----------

“What do you mean? Why the boxes?” MK asked, gripping onto the back of the demon’s coat. He let go and shrunk his staff when he tugged at it and Red Son took in a sharp breathe of pain. Clearly he didn’t think Red Son was a threat with his injury, “What happened to your arm?”

“My shoulder was dislocated,” Red Son explained in shocking honesty at the last question, turning to look at the group once again in only slight hesitation. Tang realized that he looked... tired. His eyes were red and irritated, it reminded him of how MK’s eyes looked when Pigsy first taught him how to cook and he got a face full of hot broth steam in them. “There was a... complication with some demons that wished to do business with my parents. They have been dealt with.” Tang did not miss how MK’s eyes widened in realization. He must have known was Red was referring to.

“Shouldn’t that be in a sling?” Tang asked without thinking, earning a tight glare from Pigsy and Mei as he lowered the bowl he was brandishing back to the countertop. “What? It’s what you’re supposed to do!” Something was... off. Tang didn’t know what, but something didn’t feel right about this. And not in a ‘this is secretly a trap’ kind of way.

Red Son looked at him oddly, then back down as the arm he cradled in his uninjured one before addressing MK again with an aggravated sigh. “I supposed you’ll find out eventually, you’re persistent like that. I have a... safe house, I suppose you’d call it, hidden away in the mountains far outside the city. Not even my parents know about it. I’m going to stay there. I suppose you could consider me defected to your side from now on, should a large enough problem arise.”

“Did something happen with your parents?” Tang asked, taking a step forward with a raised eyebrow and ignoring the yells of “what are you doin have you lost your marbles!?” from Pigsy and the shocked look from Mei.

The odd look was back on Red’s face, mixed with surprise and anger this time. “NO.”

“Because people usually don’t run off to a safe house their family doesn’t know about and defect to the other side of a conflict unless something happened.” Tang emphasized each of the most important parts of his accusation carefully, hoping that at least MK would pick up on what he was hinting at. The silence behind him told him Pigsy seemed to. “Especially with not a truck packed with what looks like everything they own, and double especially when they take the time to stop to visit someone they hate to tell them goodbye.”

“It-!” Red started to snap, a shaky sigh leaving him as he calmed himself. “It’s none of your concern.”

“Did your parents hurt you?” MK asked softly, a smattering of horror under-toning his words and tang could head Mei choke back a noise behind them. It wasn’t an angry one, and definitely wasn’t happy. Pigsy remained quiet.

“NO!” Red snapped  with his hair ablaze as he turned back to MK, hissing in pain as he jostled his arm. “They wouldn’t-! They-! Not... not like that.” His temper and and hair and voice fizzled out like someone dumping a bucket of water on a campfire and Tang did not miss the implications of those words, whether Red had meant to let them slip past or not.

“You need medical attention,” Tang stated, putting his hand on Red Son’s good shoulder gently. Red Son tensed under his touch. “I cannot in good conscious let you leave without that at least, especially not if you’re telling the truth about not fighting us anymore.”

“Why?” Red asked, odd look back. Tang realized it was confusion. “I know I just said I’m not your enemy, but why are you offering to help me?”

“Because I want to.”

----------

Exactly WHY that managed to work, Tang still didn’t know. But for some reason his words seemed to have struck a chord with Red Son and he agreed to have his Bull Clone driver follow them (them being MK, Mei, and Tang as Pigsy still had to manage the Noodle Shop) to the secret base (or the Sea-Crate HQ) at Sandy’s.

Sandy was shockingly understanding, welcoming him onto his boat for treatment with just the barest explanation. It probably helped that half of Sandy’s cats immediately flocked to the fire demon to run against his legs and his only reaction to them was a hesitant look down as he tried not to step on them.

Red was unusually quiet the entire time, as if he was trying to understand what exactly was happening around him. Mei tried to make snide remarks to get a rise out of him, to just growls and glowers. MK tried to talk to him about anything, mostly Monkey King related questions, but again he got the same reaction. Mei eventually changed her tactic to talking about tech and that got at least some responses from Red. Eventually they just watched as Sandy patched the demon up and all of his cats piled on top of him to the confusion and amusement to everyone.

It wasn’t until Sandy had properly patched Red up that Tang suggested he just stay at the base for the night instead of heading out that everyone not named Red Son seemed to realize what Tang’s real plan was.

Keep Red Son close just in case. Tang did not think Red was lying, not in the slightest. He was acting too off for this to be an act. But he knew that not everyone on Team MK would agree with him. After all, it was easier to keep an eye on your enemy if he was right next to you. But Tang did not think he was lying. Tang thought he needed help.

He seemed at least somewhat impressed by the base but didn’t really say much. Sandy had brought up the important question of “what if DBK and PIF find out you are here?”, to which Red explained that if they discovered he was there they wouldn’t just storm the place and drag him home given demon customs and the like. Using the safe house instead of his penthouse (and wasn’t it a trip to learn he had a penthouse) was more for him to not have to deal with their attempts for as long as possible.

MK and Mei had jokingly told him he owed them for letting him stay and while their reaction to him agreeing to pay them back whatever they liked was amusing, it made Tang wonder exactly what kind of situations Red Son was used to. Where he would have to pay everything done for him back. He seemed to accept their rebuttal that he just needed to promise not to light anything on fire easily enough.

“Do you need anything else?” was his final question to Red before they left him be, trusting the security system and Sandy (and the ocean) to handle anything that may come up. He placed a hesitant hand on Red’s head, something he did for MK and something he hoped would not offend Red Son. He felt the heat of the fire that would flare up his hair. He could feel it fluctuate, heating and cooling and heating again in response to something. Fascination couldn’t be erased from Tang’s face.

Red looked at him with that odd confused look again and said. “No... but... thank you?”

Red Son announced in the morning that he would be staying and would join Team MK.

----------

“Do you need anything else?” Tang asked, placing his hand on Red’s head. This had become... something. Something he just did whenever he could. A way to gauge how Red was feeling and a way to show him he trusted him given how easily his hair flared up. As well as a way to show he did care. They ended the day the same way every time, the question and the gesture one after the other.

“No, but thank you,” was the reflexive response from the fire demon. It was said so much easier now, so much more honestly. Sometimes he would answer with an affirmative, long ago hesitant but now just as easy as saying the sky was blue.

Tang couldn’t have been more proud of Red Son. He was still the proud and loud and showoff-y and fiery tempered demon he always was, but he was also trying to show he wanted to change. Wanted to be a hero now. Red was still unsure of a lot, but he seemed to be molding himself into the entire team well. Even Pigsy had quickly taken a shine to him after he offered to fix his kitchen appliances!

Tang also did not miss how he was starting to forget to call him Mr. Tang now, at very rare times. Whether it was because of MK calling him something else or just how Red Son felt, the scholar wasn’t sure. But hearing Red Son stop and correct himself with a “thanks d-MR. tANG!” was also something. Tang had decided that was alright as well.

DBK, on the other hand, didn’t seem to think it was given his reaction in that last fight when that happened. But Tang couldn’t rightly care what he had to say about it.

[mischiefmanifold]

I have a character with npd, because I also have npd(diagnosed), and I was wondering if I could get a second opinion on things or advice?

So, the character has done something I've also done. Lived in denial about having npd, and sort of gaslit people into believing that someone else was the ""big bad narcissist"" because of insecurities and projection. And he eventually realized he was fucking up big time after coming down from an argument, being called out for kinda manipulating his boyfriend?

His partner catches on to it all and goes against what he had said and goes back to the friend that had been lied about by main character.

I can't entirely figure out how I want him to react to this.

I was thinking having him yet again react like me, going into a high but a very specific.. flavor? "I'm the best, he's shit. How dare you" and then a crash, "holy shit im terrible I don't deserve you go be with him I'm sorry." Then having the character group get back together in a soft sort of makeshift therapy session for everyone lol

But I'm not sure on any of this. All I know is that I want to base it on my personal experiences that got me diagnosed with npd.

I'm not sure if it's bad, I don't want to glorify but I also don't want to make it seem like I'm making him out as a villain character.

I'm sorry if this is long or doesn't make any sense. Honestly I'm confused by myself and wondering if this will even make enough sense for a response lol

- 🥀⚔️

Hi, Anon!

I think I understand the gist of your ask (MC is in denial about their NPD and they take it out on everyone else but it backfires and results in a conflict between MC and his partner that in turn causes his NPD to flare up as a defense mechanism), but please feel free to elaborate if I understood anything wrong.

I can really relate to this! Before I came to the understanding that I have NPD, I was extremely manipulative and toxic (honestly, I’m still pretty manipulative, but I’m working on it), and it backfired on me repeatedly which in turn led to anger and resentment on my end.

The way my relationships usually end up going is I end up manipulating them (for self preservation or whatever) and they get upset and I get into a high (“I’m better than them anyway, they don’t deserve to be around me”) and then subsequently crash (“I’m the worst, I don’t deserve to be around them”).

From my experience with my NPD and my interacting with other people with NPD, this seems to be a fairly common experience and I don’t think you’re vilifying or glorifying NPD at all.

Thank you for your ask, and I’m glad you felt comfortable to ask my advice/opinion.

[preciousthingsareprecious]

Finding Us chapter 23

At last I have managed to sort out this latest chapter, and I am now presenting it to you fine readers! I hope you guys enjoy it! This one's featuring Jason and a round table "Ah ha!" kind of moment.

AO3 Link

~

“Are you planning to stay there all day?” Bruce asked, as Jason dropped a sky blue pencil and replaced it with a green one.

Jason looked up from his place on the training mats and grinned at his dad, “Yep.” he answered, popping the ‘P’, “I did ask you if you wanted to join, and you said you were busy.”

Currently, he was laying across the training mats on his stomach. His new coloring book thanks to Cass and Tim was splayed out in front of him. He’d filled in random parts of a page as he picked and chose colors in a dance of chaos he was sure would have Damian’s hair on end if the kid had been watching him.

He was doing his best not to get kicked out. But from Bruce’s tone, and almost constant swivel between Jason and the computer’s loading screen Jason figured his luck was running thin. So far though, Jason had been immune to Bruce’s ability to shoo every other one of his children out of the cave.

They had a truce and a tiny part of Jason’s mind was interested in seeing how far he could push his dad’s patience. Another part of him --the part that had brought him downstairs in the first place-- just wanted to make sure Bruce wasn’t pushing himself too hard. There was really no reason for B to have planted himself in front of the computer other than because he was punishing himself. For missing the signs Tim was being stalked, for just not keeping a close enough eye on his sons, or for a hundred other things Jason could think of.

“You are still welcome to color in a picture of a teddy bear, or a swear word that has all the important letters turned into symbols, which really? Is a waste of a perfectly good swear word.”

Bruce snorted. Jason counted that as a win.

Jason shifted a bit, and pushed himself a little higher on his elbows watching Bruce, “You know, sitting there won’t change the wait time the computer gave you.”

“I’m working.”

“On what?”

Bruce grunted and shrugged his shoulders at the computer. The message was clear: Stuff. Things. Batman related work.

Jason rolled his eyes and threw his green colored pencil at his dad. It clattered to the ground about halfway between them. He hadn’t expected it to land, and really didn’t know why he’d thrown it in the first place.

“Jason.” Bruce’s tone was long-suffering. A father pushed almost to his limit.

“ Dad .” Jason said, pushing a little further.

This, at last, got Bruce to look over at him. Jason wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to the way Bruce looked at him when he called him Dad now. When he’d been a kid Bruce would look warm, happy, kind of like Jason felt whenever Damian or Tim decided to lean on him.

Now, he looked a bit like a deer caught in headlights. Like he still couldn’t believe he’d heard that word from Jason. Like he’d just found his son again. And honestly? Jason didn’t blame him for the surprise. He hadn’t been sure they’d ever get here either. But after their talk in the study Jason was trying it out more and more. And it felt good. Right. Like home.

The surprise faded after a moment as Bruce’s face softened, letting in that breath of warmth he’d used to have.

“Join me, and let the computer do its job. No one will blame you for moving a few feet away for half an hour. No one blames you for missing what Timbo was so obviously trying to hide.”

“I am not going to lay on the floor.”

Jason grinned, “I’d be happy to move to a table.”

He shifted the coloring supplies to one of the work tables, his elbows and knees grateful for the reprieve from laying on the floor. Jason shoved the fallen green pencil in Bruce’s hand and left his dad to start working on a page of his choice while he made some tea on the cave’s little stove. No need to call Alfred down for something they had all the supplies for down here.

Bruce’s shoulders had just started to relax when the computer beeped indicating it was done running whatever program Bruce had set it to work on. The next instant, B was up from the table, pencil clattering onto the forgotten book and striding over to the computer.

Jason was a few steps behind him, his stomach churning. On the screen, Bruce had pulled up an image of a man who looked remarkably like Damian’s sketch. The kid was really good. As Jason took in the man’s face, his fists curled. The stalker or not, this guy was at the very least in cahoots with the person bothering Tim, and for that Jason wanted to take him down a peg or two.

“Get the others.” Bruce said, “I’m pulling up known associates now.”

Bruce didn’t have to tell Jason twice. He spun on his heel and made his way back up to the manor. He caught Dick hovering by the entrance and sent him down straight away. Then found Cass and Steph with Alfred playing cards. It took him longer to find Tim and Damian. He’d assumed both would be brooding in their rooms and came up short when he didn’t find either of them there.

Tim’s laptop was gone from his room, and so Jason assumed the kid would have probably moved to work on it somewhere else in the house. He went for the library first and cheered internally at his good luck. Both boys were together.

“Hey Short Stacks, we figured out who Dames met earlier. B wants everyone downstairs.”

Both boys looked at each other and then back at Jason, nodding.

“Excellent. It seems everything is beginning to coalesce.” Damian said, standing.

Tim looked at his laptop for a long moment, as if trying to decide if he wanted to take it or leave it. He settled on leaving it, and soon followed Damian around the desk.

“Did he say who it was?” he asked.

Jason herded them out the door, “I didn’t memorize the guy’s name. Besides, B had already moved on to looking up his partners. Hopefully you’ll spot someone you know.”

He paused and added, “Not that I’m hoping it’s a friend of yours or anything--you know what I mean.”

His brother waved off his concern, “I get it. We’ll find him a lot faster if I can give one of the associates an I.D.”

When the three of them made it down to the cave, they walked into a room full of chatter. Someone had dragged a few chairs over to rest by the computer. Alfred was planted in one, with Steph in another. Cass was perched on the desk by the computer, and Dick was leaned against Bruce’s chair. The big man himself hadn’t seemed to have moved from where Jason had left him.

Tim crowded up next to Dick, with Jason following close behind. He noted that Damian was hanging back just a bit. Probably because he’d already seen the guy in the flesh.

“Alright, we’re all here. Spill the beans, B-man.” Jason said.

Bruce grunted, but then after a moment he began to speak, “The man Damian met is named Mark Sherman. He’s got a criminal record, mostly for low level stuff, no stalking or kidnapping on his sheet though.”

After a few clicks the man's image was back up on the computer for everyone to see. Below his name, Jason could read his basic criminal history, and some general information about him like his age and height. He didn't seem like the worst that could come out of Gotham. Definitely someone who would hand over a creepy letter for enough money though.

“That is the man I saw.” Damian confirmed, with a sharp nod.

Bruce clicked something else on the computer. “Here’s the list of his known associates. I’ve narrowed it down to the most likely suspects. Tim, or any of you, let me know if they seem familiar.”

Jason watched carefully as six men and women’s images showed up on the screen. After less than a minute Dick, Tim, and Stephanie all three pointed at one of the men on the screen.

“Harry Ferst.” Dick said.

“But wait, he currently works for Wayne Enterprises.” Stephanie said, finger shifting down to aim at the information listed under his name, “What’s he got against Tim?”

All eyes turned to their second youngest.

“It might not be him?” Tim shrugged, “He could be another guy working with--” he sighed, “It’s probably him, but I can’t remember why he’d be so mad at me he’d stalk and threaten me.”

“Think harder, then.” Damian snapped, “You must have done something to incur his wrath.”

“Like I did something to incur yours when you arrived?” Tim shot back.

Jason expected Damian to return another volley, instead his mouth shut and he crossed his arms. He turned to glare at the computer screen.

“What does the man’s reason even matter? He is worth checking out at the very least. If he is not Drake’s stalker then he may be another lead.”

Tim snapped his fingers, “That’s it! He was up for promotion, back when Bruce was lost in the timestream. Except I was taking over certain things back then and more than one application was denied in all the restructuring. If he feels like his work doesn’t matter, and sees it as my fault--”

“That could be the source of his anger.” Jason nodded, “Especially if he was banking on that promotion or if he’s been passed up even more times after that.”

It made sense, Bruce had been the source of the same type of anger often enough, Lucius Fox too, and really anyone with any high ranking at the company. Tim mixing things up while Bruce had been gone was totally enough to put a target on him, one that would flare up into blame if something else incited Harry’s anger.

Bruce nodded, “I agree.”

Jason blinked, having almost forgotten the man was there. Bruce had let them sort it out together, which was nice. And looking at him now, Jason knew the man had already figured out the same things they had, but he was proud all the same. That stupid quirk of his mouth proved just that.

“So, who gets to go after him?” Jason asked.

“I--” Tim spoke up only to be interrupted by Bruce.

“You are staying home.”

Tim glowered at him and crossed his arms, “I’d like to go after the guy who’s been stalking me.”

“And we’d like you to stay safe.” Dick pointed out.

“I’ll be Red Robin!” Tim argued, “He’s not going to see me and go ‘Oh look Tim Drake my arch nemesis who’s also apparently a super hero!”

Jason snorted and crossed his arms, “I think we all want a piece of the guy who's been stalking one of our own. Unfortunately, he’s not exactly the type that really needs the whole family to take him down. I think our energies are best spread out.”

“Jason’s right.” Bruce said.

“Oh?” Jason perked up, “Are the cameras recording this because a miracle has occurred!”

Bruce ignored him and continued, “Dick and I are going to take care of Ferst. Jason you’ll be back up in case we need you, but until then I want you back on reconnecting with your Alkali contacts. Girls, I’d like you patrolling close in the area. Damian--”

“I will stay behind.” Damian said.

Jason dropped his arms, “What?”

There had to be some trick to it. Damian didn’t just stay behind. Ever.

The kid rolled his eyes, “You wish someone to keep an eye on Drake correct? He will stay because he does not wish to face Father’s wrath if I am caught sneaking out and I will stay because I do not wish the same if he is.”

The room was staring at Damian now.

“What?” he glared, “I am not an idiot. I know the way this family works, and I know my own tendencies. It was the obvious decision.”

Jason laughed, “Kid’s got a point.”

“Fine.” Tim declared, “You all win. Damian and I will stay here and be useless .”

“You’re not going to be useless,” Bruce said, sounding tired, “Barbara told me you’d been working on decrypting Alkali files. I want you to keep working on that.”

“You have been spearheading that part of the project.” Dick pointed out, “It’d be a shame if someone else figured it out before you did.”

Tim and Damian looked at each other. It was a brief glance, one that neither seemed to realize they’d even done. Jason frowned, cataloging it with their weird reluctance from earlier. Something felt off about it, but he couldn't quite place what it was.

Then Tim was shrugging, “You all will let me know the moment you’ve got the guy right?”

“Of course.” Dick nodded.

“Right then.” Tim said, “Let’s all get to it.”