#i think if i were more confident in my own bullshit like a lot of people on this site i would make long essay posts

[giantkillerjack]

Ya know. I spent most of my life with horrible painful soul-crushing social anxiety.

And after about 25 years of continuous hard work, suddenly, people started pointing out - to my utter bafflement - that I had, in fact, achieved my lifelong dream of being charismatic. I'm 29 now; I feel comfortable in most social situations, and it is a very rare person whom I cannot make laugh.

I am, undoubtedly, finally, charismatic.

But do you know what I found?

I found that now that I have an understanding of which social rules serve which functions -- Now that I have an understanding of just how much damage my awkwardness was doing to people, well,

I found that, actually, my awkwardness never really hurt anyone at all. People were just judgmental dicks to me about it.

Now that I have the skill-level to (most of the time) creatively vocalize what is in my head as soon as I think it and without fear, I can confirm once and for all what I had always suspected:

I was worth talking to when I was quiet.

I was worth talking to when I was awkward, and when the words in my head took time and patience to hear, and when most of my jokes didn't land. I was worth talking to the whole time.

So I just... I hope that if you've ever wondered whether you are worth communicating with, the answer is yes. Absolutely yes. Each of us has a soul worth sharing - and if you and I were talking, I would happily wait for you to speak (or communicate in other ways) without condescending, and I would never shame you for that harmless awkwardness that so many people feel the need to violently stomp out.

You are worth talking to. You just are. And you deserve people who will speak to you with kindness, with patience, and with the basic immutable respect owed to all people.

(I talk about this with some frequency, both on tumblr and in real life. At some point, maybe I'll gather all my thoughts on the matter into one post. At some point, I wrote about my personal experience trying to build my social skill. But I felt the need to say at least a little bit tonight after seeing this other lovely post, and I'm glad I did. It will happen again.)

[gay-dorito-dust]

lmao this is my first time giving a request. Could you maybe do dick Grayson head cannons?

Most of these hdc come from my little brain that I thought fit Dick in general, it’s not based on stuff (some of them are but not all) if ppl agree or don’t agree, I couldn’t care less honestly. Also thanks for the request anon, hope you like it! 🫶

I know I write him as a little goofy goober but he tends to play up this character so that he doesn’t have to open up about anything. Is it foolproof? Not entirely and it solely depends on the person and their relationship to him,those of whom that pick up what he’s putting down, and those (you) who can easily see through this facade and know something is up.

He’s more often than not the type who will become more affectionate in private where it’s just you, him and Hayley. Dick doesn’t need anybody else other then you two, his confidants as he so playfully called you both one day, and he’s more then content then he’s ever been.

Older sibling syndrome is strong in this boy.

Foot wars are a common occurrence in your shared apartment as you push against the others foot with your own to see who’s going to be victorious, only for you to accidentally smack him in the face with your foot and the foot war becomes ten times worse, seeing as how as Dick often wins them more then you did.

He will never stop feeling guilty about Jason’s death. Never. That boy who was filled with love and life and claimed that being robin was magic was still within Jason somewhere, dick just knows this to be true, even if Jason loves to claims that that little kid was gone.

And while he’s glad that Jason is back in his life, dick couldn’t help but feel as though he could’ve done better by him at times, holding onto that guilt and shame for not being their for his brother that still killed him inside to this day whenever he saw Jason laugh and or smile at something. It hurts but Dick will never stop being in Jason’s corner, not once. If Gotham was against Jason then Dick will gladly be by Jason’s side, to show that his allegiance to his brother would outweigh a lot of things.

(I’m so normal about dick and Jason being brothers can’t you tell 🥲 leave me here and be delusional)

The same applies to Damian also, which is why your mostly acquainted with both Jason and Damian in comparison to the rest of his family because they often come over by pure coincidence, or because dick dragged them by their ears with a smile on his face.

Insists that you cling onto his legs while he does pull ups and or sit on his back while he does push ups as he lets you count.

Complains to you when he looses the nightwing look alike contest, and to Jason no less, which no one that knows him personally allows him to live down.

They (Tim and Stephanie) even make memes out of it.

Has Hayley as his Lock Screen, you as his Home Screen. Both wearing cute matching pyjamas. So when he’s on his phone people think he’s smiling at his picture of Hayley -which is true- but he’s also smiling at the picture of you also.

His family pester him about you a lot, even Bruce asks when he’s going to meet you, claiming he’s not going to get any younger should Dick hold back on introducing you to him.

Even Alfred gets in on this as well but Dick always has an excuse locked and loaded when these questions are asked, but even he knows that Bruce knows that it’s all bullshit, however he doesn’t say anything outright incase Dick didn’t feel comfortable introducing you to them yet.

Wears only boxers to sleep or boxers and a light blue shirt, it depends on what he’s feeling really.

Loves living in the moment with you as you enjoy the others company without feeling the need to fill the air with chatter, you could just both exist and still love each other regardless because Dick didn’t feel the need to talk all the time, so moments like these were what he longed for most.

Ungracefully fell on his ass in fuzzy soaks once and hurt his tailbone in the process. It was funny until he asked to you put a bag of ice on the afflicted area.

Loved narrating what you and or Hayley do in a goofy voice that never fails to make you smile.

Doesn’t open up immediately but once he does it’s a sign of trust. He admits to his flaws in past relationships and how he wasn’t the most faithful and often saw commitment as a challenge. He understands if you see that as a sign to leave the relationship, he doesn’t expect anything from you, but if you did stay then he’s more then happy to not repeat those mistakes in your relationship.

Knows that people see Bruce when they look at him, he expects it because after being with him as long as he has it was only logical that he picked up some habits along the way whether he liked it or not.

Has a big heart but claims that Jason’s heart was twice as big because he’s so full of love and believed in love.

[seeingivy]

so high school

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my gojo as taylor songs series

an: so sorry to the dream girl fans, had to expedite this one. taylor as gojo anon its your lucky day.

--

you were always under the impression that people like satoru gojo were perfect. 

flawless even. 

at times, you were even inclined to think that it was unfair; that some people were born with perfect looks, charming personalities, with intellect and intelligence to match. that they didn’t have to struggle. 

though it seems at the current moment, you stood corrected. because the so-called rumors that you had heard about satoru – that he always participated in class, that the teachers loved him – they might have still stood true, but the underlying implication that was always insinuated, that he was naturally intelligent, wasn't. 

it slightly cracked a sheen into the persona. you wondered if the girls in your english literature class would still giggle about him the way they did under their breaths if they knew. though knowing them, they probably would find some way to make his ineptness endearing. 

“this is the quadratic formula. did you understand this one when we went over it in class?” you ask. 

“yes.” satoru responds, seething. 

“okay, so if that’s the case, can you solve this problem for me?” you ask. 

you slide the paper over to satoru, eyes hopeful, as you watch a blank expression spread over his face.  it’s something that he does often, or at least in this setting from what you can tell of the total of two hours that have passed. 

the entire session seems to be a lot of talking into the air – with him opting to listen to you explain the question rather than try it on his own or admit where exactly it is that he needs help. 

you’re not surprised that he has an ego about getting forced to do remedial tutoring. 

“you know, listening to explain it over and over again won’t really help. you have to be able to struggle your way through the question on your own.” you respond. 

satoru gives you a shrug, before taking the paper into his own hands. 

“this is bullshit. and i get that i have to like know this shit because like…societies and shit before me knew it all but i don’t really understand the point. coach is just making me do this bullshit to keep me from playing more. 

you pinch your lips into a line. the algebra teacher and basketball coach, masamichi yagi, had, in confidence, told you the exact opposite. that satoru was bright and talented – on the road to where he wanted to go – but his grades were going to hold him back if he didn’t try harder. 

you can still hear his words in your head. 

he can be tough to work with when he’s frustrated, but just try to get through to him. he’s smart enough to do this. 

“i mean, the past societies and stuff learned it and emphasize passing it on because it’s actually really relevant to what you’re doing right now.” you respond. 

“yeah, maybe for nerd shit that you do, but it’s not really relevant to where i want to go.” satoru responds. 

you roll your eyes. he didn’t have to be irritating about it. 

“and where’s that?” you ask. 

and in a split second, you see satoru smile for the first time, this close. you weren’t a stranger to him at all – almost no one was with the way the basketball team's pictures were plastered all over the school in the yearbook – but you had never sat so close to him before, at least not in years. 

he a dimple on the right side and three freckles on the left. 

“i’m going to be a starting point guard on an nba basketball team.” satoru whispers. 

“you want to go pro?” you ask. 

“hell yeah. it’s all i’ve ever wanted since i was a kid.” 

you smile. you had heard it before – that he was electric on the court – but you didn’t realize that it was serious enough to pursue a basketball career. 

“i hate to break it to you, but the quadratic formula will be really useful to you in the future.” you respond. 

satoru scoffs. you take the board from him, drawing out the trajectory of the line, as he explains. 

“the reason that you use the quadratic formula is to find the solution of the equation. it can actually tell you more than you think – about where something needs to be in space, how fast it needs to move. if you’re standing all the way at the end of the basketball court, as far away from the net as possible, you’re not going to shoot right?” you ask. 

“obviously not.” satoru responds, sarcastically. 

“and you’re not going to try from right underneath the net?” 

“not if i want to get my ass beat by coach.” 

“so you know that you have to find the right spot to try from because it’ll give you your best possible shot at getting it into the basket. that’s how the equation works – figuring out the best possible spot to where your solution works.” 

satoru rolls his eyes at you. 

“so?” 

“so. you should think about it like that. don’t make it so abstract because it’s honestly way too boring to try to do it that way. finding applications will help you get through how difficult it is. if you want to get scouted for division one basketball, you have to have good grades.” 

satoru clicks his tongue in his cheek. 

“do you want me to do the quadratic formula in my head every time i make a shot?” 

you roll your eyes. 

“obviously not. but you have to admit that something like that would be helpful. and it is helpful, for people who do engineering, fly planes, all of that type of stuff. the application will just make it more interesting or relevant for you.” you respond. 

“how do you get through it?” he asks. 

you pause. 

“what?” 

“your application or whatever. to make you do it without getting bored.” 

you can feel your cheeks burn. 

“i actually don’t have one. i was just making that up.” 

satoru’s eyes widen. 

“you gave me a whole inspirational lecture with shit you pulled out of your ass?” satoru asks, eyes incredulous. 

you note that there’s a whisper of a smile on his face. 

“part of the job is motivating students! and i don’t have one because what i want to do actually does have no application to this..” you respond. 

satoru nods, before leaning forward on the desk, his cheek in the palm of his hand as he smiles.

“so what do you want to do?” he asks. 

“what?” 

“in the future. i’d love to hear whatever it is that doesn’t have a real life application to math, so i can use it as a backup plan if this whole basketball thing doesn’t work out.” 

you glare at him. 

“this is a tutoring session, not social hour.” 

“oh come on. you’re no fun. i promise i’ll actually try if you tell me.” satoru responds. 

you debate lying. 

you debate lying because you know this is how he is, because you’ve seen him do this since the second he had his growth spurt in the sixth grade. tell different girls that they’re pretty, flatter them by asking them personal questions, and flirt like it was the air he breathed. 

and it makes you mad – only because you were that girl in seventh grade. giggling to yourself about how he said your braids were pretty, asking about if you were going to the dance, and everything in between. 

the only reason that the girls who whispered about him in your english literature class annoy you is because they remind you of yourself. though that stopped dead in his tracks when you realized that it was something that he did with everyone. 

satoru’s eyes are expectant, waiting for an answer, and you convince yourself later that night that it’s why you gave in and told him what you’ve never told anyone before. not because he really was attractive and charming – but only because he told you his first.

“scout’s honor you won’t tell?” you ask. 

satoru signals with the little cross over his heart, before giving you a nod. 

“i want to be a singer.” you respond. 

satoru’s eyes widen. 

“you’d be great for that!” 

“what?” 

“oh, come on. you’ve been the lead of every musical since like freshman year. and i remember that song you wrote about cheerleaders or whatever in sixth grade, it was really good.”

you widen your eyes. 

“you remember that?” you ask. 

“what was it called? i just remember it was like cheer captain and bleachers or something like that. mei mei got really mad at the time because she thought you were talking about her.” 

you laugh. 

“it was called you belong with me. there was a lyric in it, she’s cheer captain and i’m on the bleachers. and she was right to be mad, because it was about her. i can’t even believe you remember that.” you respond. 

satoru smirks. 

“do you just think i’m some asshole? we’ve gone to the same school since preschool. i like to think we’re friends – that’s why i picked you to be my tutor.” satoru responds. 

you didn’t know that part. you had figured that yaga had just reached out to you because you were one of the top students in the class.  

“i don’t know. i didn’t realize you remembered all that! i kind of thought you didn’t even know my name.” you respond. 

satoru smiles. 

“your name is y/n. you used to wear pigtail braids in first grade with ribbons in them. you’re really smart and you always have been. you went to the dance in seventh grade with that robotics nerd nanami kento. and one time you picked me for heads up seven up in fourth grade.” satoru responds. 

you feel your cheeks warm up. 

at the heat of your infatuation with satoru, you had made your move in the only way that you knew how – by picking him in heads up seven up. 

once in a while, you would get to play the game in class – when it was someone's birthday or you were waiting for an assembly to start. the teacher would pick seven students and the rest would put their heads down at their desks, with their thumbs up. the people who were selected got to pick anyone they wanted in the room and tap on their head. if the people who were tapped were able to guess who picked them correctly, they got to switch in. 

you picked satoru. and he guessed correctly. 

“kind of had a big fat crush on you after that, if i’m not going to lie.” satoru jokes. 

“what? over the heads up seven up?” 

satoru nods. 

“you picked me out of a room of forty people. i was ready to propose marriage.” satoru jokes. 

you snort. 

“don’t say that. i totally would have said yes. i obviously picked you for a reason.” 

satoru looks up at you, eyes wide in something you can’t really place, before he grins at you brightly. 

“you bitch! we could have been childhood sweethearts at this point if you weren’t such a chicken.” 

“me? you should have made a move. the ball was in your court after i tapped on you in heads up seven up.” 

satoru sighs. 

“oh ten year old satoru. dropping the ball as always.” 

you roll your eyes, before sliding the worksheet back over to him. satoru groans, before sneaking the paper closer to him, and scratching his head as he looks at the paper. you lean over the tiniest bit of the desk, trying to make a mess of his scribbling, and making sure he’s on the right path. 

“why’d you pick that one as c?” you ask. 

“was i not supposed to?”

“i mean, no. i just wanted to figure out why so you don’t do it next time.” 

it goes like that for the rest of the hour. he tends to make silly mistakes or get hopelessly lost in the middle, but answers one question correctly by the end of the session – which he takes as a win. 

he says one thing that sticks in your mind before he leaves, with the same expectant eyes waiting for an answer as he hangs off of the door frame. 

“y/n?” 

“yeah?”

“when you become a big famous singer, will you invite me to your first show?” satoru asks. 

you smile, before looking down at your hands and twisting the silver rings on your fingers. 

“if that happens, sure. only if you invite me to the first game where you get to start.” you respond. 

satoru grins brightly, his eyes crinkling in the smile.  

“i'm betting on it. you and me.” 

--

three months into tutoring – and a few ice cream cones and movies here and there – satoru invites you to go to a party with him.

“you know, i’m not really into the party scene, satoru.” you respond. 

“but you’re into me, because i’m the love of your life, so you should come anyways.” 

satoru does that often. flirt, make jokes about how the two of you are meant to be, and everything in between. troy and gabriella because you’re a brainiac and he’s an athlete. the best love story, since you’ve liked each other from the start. 

but you know that he’s joking, because he does that with everyone. it doesn’t mean that it isn’t nice to pretend that it’s true sometimes. 

“look, mei mei has a bunch of drinks that her dad bought for the party, so you should just come and let loose.” 

you widen your eyes. 

“you know mei mei hates me right?” 

“it’s okay, being around her will give you more material to write for your songs. then you can sing it on your sold out world tour.” satoru jokes. 

he also does that often. talk about your dream like it’s most certainly going to come true. talk about how he’s going to be front row, how you’re going to be the half-time show for his championship games, and how fans will adore your love story and humble backgrounds in tutoring. 

“come on. i’ll pick you up at six, okay?” 

at six pm, satoru honks the horn of his shitty honda civic for six minutes before you oblige and give in. and the party goes well – with satoru sticking by your side, introducing you to his best friend suguru, and making you do shots with cheap tequila. 

it goes well until they start playing a mixed version of truth or dare and spin the bottle. you have two options when the bottle lands on you – kissing the person who span it or getting a truth or dare from them. 

it’s not your idea of fun. because while you would have easily opted for just being asked truthful questions all night, you realize that the stuff that they ask and insinuate is no joke. 

and after an hour, satoru kisses suguru – much to suguru’s dismay – and shoko gets dared to prank call her ex-girlfriend, utahime, which goes insanely horrible. it felt like intruding to listen to the two of them argue so openly on the phone. 

when mei mei spins the bottle, it lands on you. 

“please don’t try to kiss me.” 

you pinch your lips in a line. 

“i wasn’t planning on it. i’ll do truth.” 

she breaths a dramatic sigh of relief. you shoot satoru a smile, who shakes it off as plain joking, before you swallow hard. 

“fuck, marry, kill. satoru, suguru, and choso.” 

you feel your eyes widen. 

“was the game not kiss, marry, kill?” you respond. 

“if we’re in the sixth grade.” mei mei responds.

you fidget with your fingers in your lap, all three of them expectantly looking at you, as you feel your voice shake. 

“um. marry satoru. and then i guess…i’ll kill choso? and you know the last one.” you respond. 

“and i thought we were friends.” choso responds, voice dripping with sarcasm as the group of them snicker. 

“we can go do that right now, that’s not a problem. should we switch the game to seven minutes in heaven?” suguru responds, snickering over his shoulder with shoko who doesn’t entertain one second of his nonsense. 

satoru is the only one who doesn’t say anything. and they move on just as fast, spinning the bottle over and over again, while you overthink what just happened – how awkward you were being, how satoru slightly shifted away from you on the hard carpet, and how you very desperately want to go home. 

when you spin the bottle, you hope to god it doesn’t land on him. but it’s just your luck, because it points directly at suguru, who is now very smugly seated next to satoru. 

“are you going to kiss me?” suguru asks. 

you know that he’s joking. you know deep down that this is just something that makes them laugh, that deep down, you wouldn’t really have to if you didn’t want to, but that doesn’t make it any less embarrassing to be cornered like this. 

“no.” you respond. 

suguru feigns hurt. 

“why not?”

you look down at your hands. 

“i’ve never kissed anyone before.” 

“i can fix that.” suguru responds. 

you shake your head. and in the split second that passes, you can feel satoru’s hand wrapped around your wrist, tugging you down the stairs and out the door, and leading you down the street to where he parked his car. 

he’s quiet as he rummages in his pockets for his key, angrily yanking on the door, as you stand on the pavement. 

“come on. we’re going home.” he responds, leaning his hands on the open door as he gestures for you to move to the passengers side. 

you shake your head, feeling hot burning tears in your eyes, as you look at him. 

“are you mad at me or something?” you ask. 

“what?” 

“i don’t know! i didn’t know what to say when mei mei asked me that. i don’t ever want to offend you or hurt your feelings or anything. and i wasn’t going to kiss your friend, you didn’t have to drag me out of there like that because i wasn’t even going to consider it.” 

satoru sighs, leaning his cheek against the window, as he gives you a halfhearted smile. 

“i’m not mad at you. or what you said.” 

“okay, because i thought that was the best option! marry is objectively the option you save for the best person in the options because that’s the person you have to kiss too. like when you marry someone you obviously have to kiss them and you’re not going to kill them, so you save it for the best.” you respond, rambling. 

satoru grins. 

“you think i’m the best option?” 

you groan. 

“shut up. i don’t even know choso. and suguru is…suguru. no.” 

satoru smiles, walking away from the open door, before reaching for your wrists and squeezing hard. 

“i’m not mad at you. i just got…annoyed back there for a second.” satoru murmurs. 

“at?” 

satoru tries to stifle his sigh. 

“i didn’t want suguru to kiss you.” satoru responds. 

“that makes two of us, genius.” you respond, earning you a laugh from him. 

“i wanted it to land on me. i know it’s just a game, but really. i wanted it to be me.” satoru murmurs. 

you laugh. 

“okay, satoru. truth or dare. i can give you one right now.” you respond, giving him a peachy smile as you wait for him to respond. 

but he doesn’t. because all you see in the dim lamplight of the street is satoru, frowning at you. his eyes are expectant, but not waiting for an answer this time – but for you to understand what he was trying to say. 

that he wanted you to kiss him. 

it takes you five seconds. five seconds of bright blue eyes to get it. 

“oh.” you respond. 

you pause. 

“really?” you whisper. 

satoru shrugs. almost like he’s embarrassed. 

you lift your hands, gesturing for him to wait right there, as you duck into the car from the door that he opened, and reach over the seats for the water bottle that you left in there a few days ago. 

“fuck, ow.” you whisper. 

“are you okay?” satoru asks, leaning closer to peek his head through the door. 

“yeah. yeah. just looking for something.” 

you find it underneath the seat – a wrinkled mess of plastic from the heat and three sips of lukewarm water left. you push out of the car, holding up the little bottle in between the two of you, to which satoru gives you a confused look. 

“i wouldn’t drink that.” satoru responds. 

you shake your head, before crouching to the ground, and placing the bottle on the ground. you gesture for satoru to join you, the two of you hunching over with your heads pressed together. and you reach forward and spin the bottle, only for it to point towards the car. 

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” you murmur. 

you readjust the bottle, manually pointing it towards satoru, as you look back up at him and give him a smile. 

“i don’t get it.” satoru responds. 

“it landed on you.” you respond. 

you watch satoru’s throat bob. 

“what?” he whispers. 

“i spun. it landed on you.” you respond. 

you swear he’s blushing in the moonlight. 

“y/n.”

“are you going to kiss me, satoru?” you whisper. 

it’s a split second before satoru reaches forward, pulling you up by the wrists, and yanking you into the backseat of his car to do just that. you can taste the remnants of the cheap tequila on his lips, the feeling warm in your chest as he smiles – no, laughs – into the kiss. 

in the seconds that pass, you lean your forehead against satoru’s, the two of you lightly panting as you catch your breaths – his hands warm on your waist and yours underneath his biceps. 

“did you really pick me out of everyone to be your math tutor?” you whisper. 

satoru laughs. 

“i knew what i wanted. and i got her.” satoru whispers. 

you get signed on to a record label a year later, two months before you graduate high school. it breaks your heart to leave him behind when the fall comes around. 

--

four years later 

“did the tour bus get stalled?” you ask. 

yuki looks up from her clipboard, switching off the little knob on her earpiece, as she takes the open seat next to you. 

“yeah. they’ve got it stuck inside the fencing outside the stadium, they’re just trying to push it through now.” yuki responds. 

“can’t we just walk out to the car?” you ask. 

yuki shakes her head again. 

“fans go out the same way. if you want to avoid getting mobbed on the way out here, it’s best to wait.” yuki responds. 

“if we have to wait, i’m just going to go lie down in the dressing room. come get me when it’s here?” you ask. 

yuki gives you a nod as you walk off to the other side of the stadium, the heels of your feet aching from the high stiletto boots you were wearing breaking halfway through the performance, as you shake through the messy tresses of your hair. 

“it was so nice to meet you, man. you said she was over this way?” 

you feel your eyes widen as you turn your head to the left – to the voice that you can recognize anywhere – and feel a dry patch in your throat. at the sight of satoru, an obscenely tall version of satoru, standing three feet away from you, talking to one of the members of your crew. 

you watch as satoru gives a polite smile and walks down the way towards your dressing room, already six whole paces in front of you from how long his legs are now, as you follow behind him, wiping away the darkness of smudged makeup under your eyes and brushing down the beads of your dress. 

it can’t be him, can it? you desperately wished there was something else to wear besides the bedazzled bodysuit you were wearing currently. 

you watch as satoru knocks on your door, expectantly waiting for a response at the door, as he wipes his hands against the sides of his pants. and you walk up right behind him, nervously clearing your throat, as he turns around and gives you a wide smile. 

“ah. right, hi! i was just looking for you. my name is…” 

“satoru.” you finish. 

there was no way he thought you actually forgot him, did he? 

satoru unclenches his shoulders, an immediate pang of relief spreading through his face, as he gives you a smile – a dimple on the right and three freckles on the left – as you feel a pang of hurt in your chest. 

he looks good. he looks even better than you left him, his striking white hair longer than it was before and the smallest amount of wrinkles around his eyes. 

“you remember.” satoru responds. 

you bite on the inside of your cheek, to stop yourself from smiling at him fully. 

“do you just think i’m some asshole? we’ve gone to the same school since preschool.” you respond. 

satoru rolls his eyes at the words – the same ones he said years prior – as he crosses his hands over his chest. and you can’t help but contain your excitement and lean forward, a gesture he returns as you bury your face into the crook of his neck and squeeze hard. 

“satoru, oh my fucking god. you should have told me you were coming.” you respond, leaning back as he reaches up to cup the side of your cheek and smile down at you. 

“how could i?” he asks. 

“you could text me. i have a phone.” you joke. 

satoru gives you a smile. 

“you know, when you change your number, that means i can’t text you.” 

you groan, smacking your palm against your forehead. 

“shit. i totally forgot. i was just so stressed out at the time because…” 

“because someone leaked your phone number and people were calling you at every hour of the day. i know.” 

you feel your chest pang, mainly at the fact that satoru was here – that he thought you forgot him and, in earnest, you really had forgotten him. that he was keeping tabs, that he knew everything that you were up to in the years since you separated – from your phone number getting leaked to the fact that you were performing tonight – and you couldn’t say the same. 

you frown. 

“right. i’m sorry, i meant to give it to you, i just…” 

“were going through a lot at the time. first world tour, six grammy nominations, and some friends who weren’t the greatest, i gathered.” 

you sigh. 

“you don’t know the half of it.” you respond. 

satoru shakes his head. 

“i mean, i do. but i’d love to hear it from you, if…if you ever wanted to tell me?” satoru asks. 

he has that same look in his eyes. timid, expectant eyes, shy and waiting for an answer. 

“of course i would want to tell you.” you whisper. 

satoru smiles. 

“good. i’d love to hear it.” satoru responds. 

it doesn’t feel real. it doesn’t feel real that four year ago satoru kissed you in the moonlight on a horribly paved street, that you had to leave him behind on that same cobblestone four years ago, and now he’s standing in front of you – the two of you the same as before, satoru the same, maybe even better, than the way you left him. 

“what are you doing here, satoru?” you ask. 

he smiles, before reaching into his pocket, and pulling out two little pieces of paper. he hands them over to you, as you read the fine print. 

July 19th 

San Francisco Golden State Warriors versus Los Angeles Lakers 

“i’m the starting point guard for an nba basketball team. i promised you an invite to my first game.” he murmurs. 

you press the tickets close to your chest, as you give him a nod. 

“y/n. the tour bus is here!” yuki screams at the end of the hall, frantic hands waving you over, as you turn back to satoru with a pinched look. 

he smiles in response. 

“don’t worry. i’ll see you in a week.” he responds. 

--

the week that follows is agonizing. 

you scavenge every corner of the internet to find out everything about him known to the public. where he lives, what he’s been up to, what team he plays for. 

he’s the starting point guard for the lakers, his hometown team for where he’s lived for the past four years. it seems that he had made his escape from the suburbs around the same time that you had, by playing division one basketball at the university of southern california, before getting a straight bid into the nba. 

he’s the youngest starting point guard in history. he’s broken his own all time record multiple times and was one of the youngest people to get signed on with the league. 

he likes to cook. suguru made his way onto the team with him. the two of them are a dynamic duo – famous for their hilarious interviews. he’s a father. he adopted two kids that lived in his neighborhood after their dad tragically passed away – megumi and tsumiki. 

and most of all, he’s the same as you left him. because in every interview you watch, you hear the same thing. 

“satoru, which artist is on your pregame playlist?” 

“if you could go to any concert, which would it be?” 

“who do you dream to collaborate with in the future?” 

it’s the same answer every time. 

y/n l/n, of course. 

you can hear his voice in your head already. 

i knew what i wanted. and i got her. 

--

the stadium is an overstimulating amount of loud – something exacerbated by how nervous you are – as you walk down the steps to the court, stomach erupting into a nervous mess of butterflies. 

satoru gifted you courtside seats to the opening game. and if he was going to follow suit like he always did, his kids would be sitting right next to you, dead center to watch him play. 

you catch sight of his white tufts of hair at the center of the court, fans in the stands excitedly pointing at him practicing free throws with his teammates, and snapping pictures. you see a group of girls in his jersey giggling at the side, zooming in to take photos and loudly talking about how hot he looked when he pushed his hair back with a headband during the game. 

girls on twitter loved the headband. it seemed that among most things, one thing never changed – how much people adored satoru. 

as you get closer to the lights, you can tell that people notice your attendance, hushed whispers and pointed fingers at you as you make your way down to the waxed court, your shoes clicking on the wood, as you walk over to your seat. 

you hope satoru doesn’t think it’s too forward that you decided to wear his jersey – with his last name spelled out on the back – as you take a seat. 

you wipe your sweaty hands on the pleats of your white tennis skirt, fiddling with the beaded bracelet on your hands, as one of satoru’s teammates eyes widen at the sight of you, before they all but run over to smack him across the shoulder. 

satoru looks over at you, giving you a soft smile, as he drops the ball and starts making strides over to where you’re sitting. you can feel your cheeks burning as you stand up, waiting for him to fully approach and he does the same thing he used to – wrapping his hands around your wrists as he leans forward, the smallest sheen of sweat on his forehead. 

“i’d hug you, but i’m a little gross right now, brainiac.” he murmurs. 

you shake your head. 

“no problem. these are nice seats.” 

he smiles. 

“i’d let you bring a friend, but i had to save –” 

“the other two tickets for your kids. megumi and tsumiki. they’re your neighbor's kids, who you adopted after their dad passed away.” you finish. 

satoru widens his eyes, before poking his tongue in the side of his cheek, and giving you a grin. 

“did your research, did you?” 

you shrug. 

“i did. but i’d love to hear about it, if you’ll tell me...” you respond. 

satoru laughs. 

“tsumiki is a really big fan. megumi doesn’t believe me when i said that you and i used to date, but he doesn’t believe anything i say anyways. they’re my favorite people in the world. and i love to make dad jokes.” satoru responds. 

you smile. of course he does. 

“i’m excited to meet them. i’ll give tsumiki a whole personal concert. signed cds or vinyls, whatever you want.” you state. 

“i’d withhold that for now. i think she’s going to have a heart attack from excitement all at once when she realizes daddy is dating her idol.” 

you feel like you’re in high school. you feel like it’s thursday after lunch and satoru’s walking you to class, making jokes about how the two of you are going to end up together. saying you’re troy and gabriella, about how no one will understand each other like you, about how you’re going to be at the halftime show performance at his championship game. 

“one last thing.” satoru states. 

“what’s that?” 

he reaches into the pocket of his shorts, procuring a set of blue earplugs and placing them in the palm of your hand. 

“i remember you hate how loud it can get. and this is going to be ten times worse than our shitty school gym, so wear these.” satoru states. 

you can’t help but frown at the thoughtfulness, looking back up at the bright smile he’s giving you, before squeezing his hand. satoru leans forward and pinches the softness of your cheek, before running back to the center of the court and practicing with the team. 

you can tell that some of them are jeering at him – giggling behind him as he shoots from different parts of the court, and you memorize the permanent smile that seems to be etched on to his face. suguru gives you a wave, before blowing you a kiss, which earns him a hard shove from satoru on the court. 

--

two months later, the two of you follow the same routine. satoru travels around the country for his games. you do the same for your tours – and whenever the cities overlap, which coincidentally every week they almost do – the two of you get dinner, eat breakfast. he insists on sleeping on his couch so you can take his bed, but you convince him to stay and just share.  

satoru says the overlap is fate. you tell him that he’s ridiculous. he says that it has to be fate – that you have to be meant to be, because you get back into it just as quickly as the two of you fell into it. 

satoru tells you that he’s proud of you. your fans post videos of him at your shows – bright smiles on his face as he sings along to all of the words of your songs. you decide to surprise him at the third show he comes to, by singing his favorite song – you belong with me. you both joke about how mei mei is pissed wherever she is. 

you tell satoru that you’re proud of him too. you watch every game courtside and really, are just in awe of him as you are when you were seventeen, blue paint splattered on your cheeks as you cheer him on – the muffled sounds of the crowd in your ears. you always carry three pairs of ear plugs, the extra two for megumi and tsumiki. 

you think you love him. you think you always will. you realize that no one was ever going to have your heart like he did. 

satoru has a home game in los angeles in late august. and his manager invites you to the afterparty two minutes away from the stadium, your transportation arranged with megumi and tsumiki. 

you think they’re adorable. you think satoru is the best dad. 

at a whopping seven years old, tsumiki reminds you of satoru. full of energy and light, she talks a hundred words per minute. the second you walk into the afterparty, you watch as she beelines to the big group of people, suguru quickly picking her up as she starts chattering loudly. 

megumi’s the opposite. a little shy for his age, you swear that he squeezes your hand harder as you stand at the doorway of the crowded room. and true to satoru���s words – he really didn’t believe that you and satoru used to be friends, let alone date, but states that it must be because satoru did some black magic on you. 

he makes jokes like that all the time. 

“you okay?” you ask. 

“yeah. have you seen my dad?” he asks. 

you frown. 

“no.” 

megumi gives you a halfhearted sigh. 

“okay.” 

megumi gets nervous. the only people he feels comfortable around are satoru and tsumiki. 

“you know, your dad never changes. he used to do this to me all the time too.” you state. 

“do what?” 

“drag me to parties. it’s not really my scene.” 

megumi smiles. 

“really?” 

you nod. 

“i wouldn’t even know most of the people there. one time he took me to the birthday party of a girl who literally hated me.” 

megumi laughs. 

“of course he did. some romantic he makes himself out to be. but really, i don’t care. i just hate waiting for tsumiki to come back.” megumi states. 

you smile in response. 

“well, how about we wait in the kitchen? there’ll be less people there.” 

you tug megumi along to the kitchen, quickly lifting him to sit on the counter, as you rummage through the fridge – trying to catch your breath from whatever alternate universe you’re living in. 

you’re in satoru’s house, with all of his friends. his kids seem to like you. he scored the most points out of the game, including the winning shot with six seconds left on the scoreboard. you have no idea where he is or what you’re doing right now or – 

“hi.” 

you slam the door shut, only to find suguru getou towering over you, with a smile on his face. 

“hi.” you respond, reaching up to tuck the hair behind your ears as you take a step back. 

“it’s been a long time, girl scout.” 

you try to stifle your sigh. 

“sure has been.” you respond. 

“satoru’s really keen on hiding you away.” 

you awkwardly nod, twisting the silver rings on your hands, as you give him a smile. 

“we’re just getting to know each other, that's all.” you respond. 

suguru widens his eyes. 

“what is there to find out? you’ve known each other since you were toddlers.” suguru responds. 

you shrug. 

“i don’t know. a lot of time has passed.” you murmur. 

suguru pinches his eyes shut, in frustration. 

“you’d think that would make the two of you more eager.” he responds. 

“what do you mean?” 

“if it were me, if i felt the way the two of you obviously do, then i’d get a move on. i’d be unable to contain it.” 

you glare. 

“you don’t know how we feel. and there’s a lot on the line here.” 

suguru crosses his arms over his chest. 

“do you like him?” suguru asks. 

“what?” 

“because he loves you. basketball has always been his dream, but even more so when he realized that it would be a reason to talk to you again. he’s listened to all of your albums the second they came out, seen you perform every time you came around these parts, and cursed the hell out of every movie star asshole who has talked shit about you publicly or hurt your feelings.” suguru responds. 

you sigh. 

“i’ll ask you again. do you like him? because he. loves. you. you make him so nervous that he won’t make the first move, just like he wouldn’t when you were sixteen.” 

“of course i do. i –” 

“do i need to threaten to kiss you again?” suguru asks. 

it’s right at that second that satoru parades into the kitchen and you can tell from the way that he yanks suguru back by the year that he only heard the very end of the conversation. 

“that joke doesn’t get any funnier the fifth time you say it.” satoru seethes. 

“get a move on before i do, dumbass.” suguru responds, giving satoru one last shove before walking off. 

you don’t have time to think about his words, but one thought crosses your mind – that suguru might have been so insistent at that party all of those years ago, because he knew it would push something forward between the two of you. 

he sure had a strange way of being a wingman. 

at the sight of satoru, megumi’s holding his little hands out – something satoru obliges to as he picks him up – before turning over to face you. 

“do you want me to kill him?” he asks. 

you smile. 

“i know he’s just kidding.” you respond. 

satoru rolls his eyes. 

“i was kind of hoping you would say yes.” 

“did you used to date suguru too?” megumi asks. 

you widen your eyes. 

“absolutely not. just your dad, no one else.” you respond. 

“god megumi, that’s not just something that you can ask someone.” tsumiki murmurs, padding into the kitchen with pink cheeks, as she wraps her arm around your leg. 

you return the affection, reaching down to push her bangs away from her forehead, as you look back at satoru. he stares a little too long, before looking over at megumi and whispering. 

“can you and tsumiki take a walk real quick?” 

megumi gives him a nod as satoru sets him down, the two of them walking away hand in hand to the other side of the room, as satoru turns back to you, reaching forward to wrap his hands around your wrists. 

“hey.” he whispers. 

“hi.” you whisper back. 

he leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. 

“did you enjoy the game?” 

“sure did. tsumiki and i shared rainbow airheads. and megumi gave me a really big hug after you won, which almost made me cry.” you respond. 

“i’ll say. i almost cried when i saw all three of you hugging on the jumbotron.” 

you lean forward, pressing yourself against his chest, as you link your arms together behind his back. you can hear suguru’s words racing through your mind – if it were me i wouldn’t be able to contain it, do you like him? because he loves you – and it makes your skin burn. 

“hey. you okay?” satoru asks. 

you say the only thing that you can think of. 

“yeah. i’m just…really happy..” you whisper. 

satoru pinches your cheek.

“me too.” he responds.  

“ever since i left, my life has changed, so drastically, so quickly. i went from being a girl from a small suburb in new york to being someone that…that a lot of people knew about. wanted to know about. sometimes this stuff makes me feel like i’m not really that person anymore.” 

you pause. 

“but every time you look at me i can…i do feel like that again. like someone who was in high school, who hated school dances, and did the morning announcements. someone who loved you. who was with you.” 

you sigh. 

“no one’s ever had me like you. i don’t know if you’re joking when you say it, but it really is fate. you really are….are my soulmate or my invisible string or whatever. you…you’re it for me.” 

satoru lets go of your wrists, before reaching for the closest cupboard and reaching for a bottle, and placing it flat on the floor. he’s crouching on his knees, your chest so full of love you can barely stomach it, as he gestures for you to crouch on the floor close to him, his cheeks pink in the light. 

you watch as he spins the bottle, only for it to miss and land on the fridge. 

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me...” satoru responds. 

he reaches forward, twisting the bottle so it faces you, before looking at you expectantly. the same way he looked every other time – waiting for you to tell him what your dream job was, waiting for you to kiss him, and now waiting for you to confess for a second time. 

“are you going to kiss me, y/n?” 

you whisper it against his lips. 

“guess what?” 

“what?” 

“i knew what i wanted. and i got him.” 

--

an: our very first ttpd gojo as taylor <3 this post was sponsored by @yuutito, @neptuneblue, and @um-no-ok through my participation in fics for gaza! thank you so much for donating - I hope you liked the piece!!! i went a little bit over the promised wordcount as I started writing, but left it as is to be posted since we met the goal. a reminder that i'm still taking submissions for my wips (i'll be putting a new one up) and for requests!

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Adult Education Part 14 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jake does his best to be reassuring toward Jessica, because the truth doesn't change anything for him. His feelings are strong and getting stronger, but then he does something that could have some serious repercussions, whether it was warranted or not.

Warnings: Fluff, oral sex, angst, swearing, mentions of cheating, blood, punching, 18+

Length: 4600 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

Jessica couldn't take much more of this. She was so tired of always being on edge and having to deal with Brian's bullshit. The only time she felt truly calm was when she was with Jake. Just like this. He had his arms wrapped around her, and she was laying on his chest. She felt like she could just be herself around him without worrying what he thought about her. Then he asked, "Do you want to talk about it?" 

She did want to talk about it, but she was also afraid he would think less of her. But she just didn't see how she could continue on with Jake unless he knew. She was falling in love with him a little more every day, and there was no way she could ever accept those kinds of feelings in return without him knowing the facts. She carefully shrugged and whispered, "There's not a lot to say. Brian is trying to ruin my career."

Jake held her tighter and kissed along her hair. "Why, Baby? How is that possible?"

Jessica's body involuntarily tensed up in his arms before she took a few shaky breaths and eased her cheek away from his chest. She felt tears in her eyes again as she looked at Jake and whispered, "He and I were dating. And then we were sleeping together. For weeks. And I had no idea that he's married and has two kids."

"Oh," Jake gasped, his pretty green eyes wide as he looked at her, and the feelings of shame and embarrassment intermingled, making her feel sick to her stomach.

When Jake didn't say anything else, Jessica wiped at the tears behind her glasses and pulled herself free from his grasp. He was just staring at her. She always knew it would be hard to tell him what happened, but she expected him to say something. "I ended it when I found out," she managed as her throat grew tighter. "I understand if this changes things between us." Her voice sounded small and weak, and she hated it. 

She knew she was smart. She knew how to command a classroom. She used to have more confidence than anyone else, but now she was scooting away from her boyfriend in her pretty green dress while he looked at her and said nothing. She wanted to unzip her dress and slip into bed and get all of the rest of her tears out, but if Jake wasn't going to do anything except stare at her, then she didn't know what to do.

"What would it change?" he finally asked as she fought with the zipper as her hands shook. 

"I don't know," she mumbled, frustration rising inside her now. "But I'm sure you think I'm an idiot. Like I can't read the room or take care of myself."

"Jessica," he said, and his voice was sharp enough that she met his green eyes. "You're not an idiot. He took advantage of you."

"It's embarrassing," she whispered, ready to rip the zipper off her dress as Jake climbed out of bed and carefully slid it down for her. As her dress fell away, leaving her completely bare except for her tiny thong, Jake kept his eyes on hers. 

He ran his fingers through her hair and said, "Brian is the one who embarrassed himself, Baby. I'm just shocked anyone could treat you that badly when you're as sweet as you are. But you didn't do anything wrong, and I promise I still feel the same way about you right now as I did two hours ago and yesterday." 

She nodded and cried against his shirt, her glasses smashing into his chest before he carefully slipped them off her face. Jake was kissing her forehead as she sobbed. "Smart Girl, you've been holding this inside for too long." She nodded as he unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall to the floor. Then he scooped her up and pulled back the covers, climbing in bed with her in his arms while he still had on his undershirt and suit pants. 

"I told Advanced Calculus the other day, but she was the first person I ever said anything to. Chippy knows Brian did something to me, but he doesn't know what. That's why he's not allowed in the bar anymore."

He rubbed her back as she fought for each breath through her hiccups and tears. "I have a new appreciation for that grouchy, old man," Jake murmured, tightening his grip on her body as she settled against his chest once again. "And now I wish Bradshaw and his wife had let me level Conley tonight, because I'm really not okay with someone making my girlfriend feel bad about herself and continually belittling her." She looked up at him through her red rimmed eyes, and he kissed her forehead. "You don't deserve any of that."

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

Jake tried to keep his voice as calm as possible, but he was absolutely outraged inside. All of Jessica's hesitancies made sense now, including the way she thought he was already in a relationship the night they met. She was carrying this unfounded shame and hurt inside her while trying to protect herself from ever letting it happen again. But it wouldn't happen again; Jake would see to that.

The bottom line was, Brian Conley was a fucking asshole, and the next time Jake saw him, it was on. If that man ever so much as looked at Jessica the wrong way again, chances were good he'd end up in the hospital. Not that he was going to say that when she was currently gasping for air with her face buried against him. But he knew he'd take care of anything she needed, because he loved her.

"You're really strong," he whispered, and when she tried to shake her head no, he added, "Yes, you are. You go to work every single day and teach your classes and take care of your students, and you do it while Brian actively tries to make all of it harder for you. You're a badass."

"Oh, my god," she groaned, wiping her cheeks with her palms. "You're kind of right."

"I'm absolutely right," he replied. She gaped at him as he nodded, and soon she was nodding, too. And then Jessica ended up straddling his hips with her breasts pressed against his chest and her lips next to his ear. But it wasn't sexual which surprised him. He kept his arms loose around her and let her talk about whatever she wanted to talk about and pause when she needed to.

Brian's wife was named Sabrina, and their sons were nine and thirteen. He never wore a ring, and hardly anyone at the university knew he was married. Jessica found out about his family when she ran into the four of them out to eat one day.

"Based on the way Sabrina reacted to me when I walked up to Brian, she knew what was going on. I looked her in the eye and told her I was sorry and that I had no idea. So I'm convinced I'm not even the first woman he's done this with. And I know I'm not the last. He's sleeping with a TA from his department now."

"He's still married?" Jake asked softly.

"As far as I know. He had a good tactic for hiding it from everyone at work, too. He would tell me, 'Nobody can find out about us, Jessica. They would think I was playing favorites.' Then after I blew his cover to his wife, he started rumors about how I came onto him. He made himself look completely innocent while making me look like a slut."

Jake grunted. "He's a fucking scumbag. And what's the point of putting in the work and being in a relationship if you're just going to turn around and shit all over your efforts? I mean, obviously you're the kind of woman every guy wants, but you're mine now."

Jessica laughed softly as Jake ran his hands up and down along her back. "I was so scared to tell you," she whispered, her voice soft and sweet. "I didn't want you to think poorly of me."

Compared to every other woman he'd ever known, Jessica was the best. There was no contest in his mind. "None of this is your fault, Reedy. But what about the way he treats you now? What about getting tenure?"

She looked at him sadly. "If I fight it, I'll look bad. He's meticulously set it up that way. And that will reduce my chances of getting tenure even more. I'm honestly a little afraid I'm going to have to try to find a job at a different university."

Jake tried to think of other schools around the city. "Like Cal State? Or Point Loma?"

She shook her head sadly. "Do you know how hard it is to find an opening in a physics department when lazy old dudes still exist?"

Jake pulled her closer and kissed her cheek as he said, "Spell it out for me."

Jessica took a few seconds to snuggle in against him again, and he hoped she felt as comfortable and safe right now as he did. But her words made his heart sink. "I'm talking more like Penn State or Syracuse."

Pennsylvania or New York? Shit. That would never do. Not when he was already thinking about taking her home to Texas to meet his family. Not when he was falling for her more every day. "You should be able to stay in San Diego without being treated poorly."

"You're certainly helping with that."

Jake kissed the top of her head and laced his fingers with hers. "I just want you to be happy," he whispered. 

She smiled and said, "You're helping with that, too. Honestly, all I need right now is you, and a table at Chippy's, and for Brian to get hit by a truck."

"Baby, my new truck is all yours. Have at him." Jake was just happy that she was laughing as he let his fingers tangle in her hair. "You're a great teacher. And your fundraiser was incredible."

"Fratraiser," she replied with another soft laugh. 

"Fucking Bradshaw," Jake muttered. "Your fratraiser was incredible. You have a lot to be proud of. And I hope you can stay at your school, because I don't think I would do well in upstate New York. I turn into a bit of a whiner when I'm too cold."

Jessica looked up at him curiously. "Are you referring to my Syracuse comment?"

"Yes."

"So you would... come visit me? If I ended up at a different school?"

Jake's lips parted silently. He'd actually imagined moving there with her; the idea of shoveling snow made him want to cry, but he'd consider it for her. "Something like that," he answered softly. "Now... it's very late. Want me to read to you?"

He was reaching for one of the scientific journals on her nightstand with a questioning glance in her direction. "I would love that," she whispered. "How about the one about the one on electric propulsion?"

"Sure, Baby. I won't understand a single word of it, but sure."

"Yes, you will. You're smart."

Jake read quietly with Jessica snuggled against his side until she fell asleep. And then he read the remainder of the article to himself, because he actually did understand it. And it was fascinating. And he watched his girlfriend sleep as he considered registering for one of her lectures next semester, eventually dozing off as well.

It felt like he slept for just twenty minutes and simultaneously twelve hours when he woke up to Jessica's sweet voice in his ear. 

"Jake. Good morning."

He grunted softly as he felt her hand work open the front of the suit pants he'd fallen asleep wearing, and then her fingers were skimming along his cock. 

"Jessica." His eyes fluttered open just in time to watch her tits and head disappear underneath the covers, and then her lips were on his dick. "Oh, fuck."

He whipped the blankets off as she giggled in surprise, her pink tongue just an inch from his tip. "Is this okay?" she asked, licking him softly as she held him loosely with one hand. Her gorgeous ass was up in the air above her head, decorated to perfection with her green thong, and she was awaiting an answer from him. 

"Fuck yes," he gasped, reaching for her glasses. "Put these on first, Baby."

She took them and slid them on. "You want to make sure I can see everything I'm doing?" she asked before settling into place again. 

"No. I just like how you look in them," he whispered. 

She grinned and pulled his pants down a little bit more, kissing his length as she did so. This marked the first time Jake had felt her mouth on his cock, and he was way too excited for this. He loved getting blowjobs; always had, always would. But he couldn't remember a single girl who wore glasses for him.

"You need to tell me what you like," she whispered, wiggling her ass in the air as she cupped his balls. Holy shit, this woman had no idea how fucking hot she was. 

"I'm going to like anything you do," he promised, and then he was rewarded with her parted lips around the head of his cock. She sucked on him in a soft rhythm as her tongue swirled, and he groaned, "God damn. What did I even do to deserve this?"

Jessica popped him free and said, "You're a good boyfriend," before taking him deep with one long, smooth stroke until he bottomed out.

"Holy hell." He was scrambling now, one hand in her hair and one gripping at the sheets. "Baby, baby, baby," he whispered, watching as she bobbed her head. He had to suck in a deep breath through his nose and try to calm himself down. But when he exhaled, he just ended up moaning instead. "Oh my god."

Jessica's tits bounced and slapped each other and his thighs as she bobbed faster and faster before withdrawing him and grinning. The long strand of her saliva hanging from her lips was mesmerizing, and when it broke and landed on his hip he thrust up in her hand involuntarily. 

"You seem eager for more," she teased, shaking her ass again. 

"Jessica," he gasped when she started slowly jerking him off with her hands. "I'll do anything."

She leaned down and kissed his tip and then his abs and then his tip again. "Just ask nicely."

Jake watched her lick her lips, and he was desperate for that pink tongue again. He knew she was in charge right now, and he wouldn't have it any other way. "Please, Baby? Please suck me off? I can't get enough."

She leaned down farther, her tongue settling on his base as he watched his cock rest against her glasses. He had to stifle a moan at the feel of her warm mouth and cool glasses at the same time, and then she licked his full length before taking him deep. His girlfriend was meticulous and unhurried, just like she was when she was lecturing. And now he made the mistake of thinking of her in front of a room full of eyes wearing a short skirt and tall heels as he reached to squeeze her tits.

He had no idea what he was saying. Just depraved things falling from his lips.

"Jessica, your mouth was made for me."

"Fuck, Baby. I need to come. I need to come."

"You're so good. So good!"

He couldn't be sure how much time had passed, but he was whimpering and begging her now as she slowly dragged her lips up to his tip before pushing them back down. Every graze against his balls and stroke of her fingernails in his trimmed hair had him gripping her tighter. Each swipe of her tongue had him cursing under his breath. He couldn't remember ever being this verbal before. But now she wasn't changing her pace at all, favoring her current plan to make him lose his mind. 

"Please," he gasped, panting so hard it was embarrassing.

"Tell me what you want," she demanded between long stripes of her tongue, the change of pace taking him closer to the edge.

He wanted it bad. So he decided to say it. "Let me cum on your glasses?"

She grinned and wrapped both of her hands around his length, and he was immediately in trouble. "Cum wherever you want."

"Oh, hell," he whined, tilting her head just right with his fingers tangled in her hair, and then when she licked her lips again, he was right there. 

Jessica gasped as his cum hit her glasses before another ribbon landed on her forehead. She squealed in delight as he coated her up, and she kept pumping her hand up and down his length. "Jesus," he grunted, reaching for her hand and slowing her motion as she licked the last beads of cum from his tip. "Jessica."

Jake hauled her up his body and kissed her lips, tasting himself and needing more. He ran his tongue across her cheek, cleaning his cum from her skin. Then he licked her glasses, and when he kissed her, she moaned into his mouth. He dragged his tongue through his mess again and again as he cupped her ass and brushed her hair out of her face. But she was a mess everywhere, and so was he. It didn't matter, because she was smiling at him over the top of her glasses. 

"That was hot," she whispered, and he tipped his head back and swallowed hard, still tasting his cum.

He hadn't been needy like that in recent memory. Maybe ever. "Baby, you're what's hot."

She pushed her fingers back through his hair, and for some reason, looking at his girlfriend's cum soaked face had him completely convinced she was the one. "Come wash me off," she whispered, and Jake followed her into the bathroom and the shower. 

He cleaned her glasses and her face under the stream of steamy water, pausing frequently to kiss her sweetly. He ended up with his back pressed to the wall as she told him, "You made me feel so good about myself last night. Just like you always do. Thank you."

"I was just telling you the truth, Baby."

As he ran his nose along hers, he thought about all the things he wanted to tell her and tried to put all of it in order in his mind. Then she added, "Now that alumni weekend is over, your birthday is coming up. We can focus on that instead."

He smiled. "Nothing fancy, okay? I just thought maybe we could trade Chippy's for the Hard Deck for one night? You could meet the rest of my friends."

"Do they have Sam Adams on tap?" she asked with a coy smile. 

Jake scoffed. "I wouldn't have suggested it if they didn't."

"Then yes. That sounds perfect for your birthday."

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

On Monday morning, Jessica still felt incredible. She'd managed to get Jake to stay over again, and he'd left her place at six in the morning wearing his wrinkled suit. Just the thought of it made her smile. He'd taken so much time reinforcing that he didn't think less of her because of Brian. He'd told her over and over that none of it was her fault. 

Even though she had a department meeting, she practically floated down the hallway to her office. Seeing Brian today would have no bearing on her mood or her happiness. But when she got closer to her door, she saw someone waiting for her. 

"Advanced Calculus," Jessica called out, rushing a bit more with her travel mug of coffee and her bag. She was delighted to see her friend and thank her again for everything she and Bradley did to help her out. "Hi." 

But the other woman held her hands up with a remorseful look on her face. "Listen, Jessica. I'm really sorry if what I did or said to Brian on Saturday night makes things worse around here for you. I should have kept myself in check, but I just fucking hate him."

Jessica gasped, and her face broke out in a smile as tears welled in her eyes. "No way. It was kind of perfect actually. Do you know how good it felt to have someone stand up for me for once?"

Next thing she knew, Jessica was wrapped up in her arms, and the tears didn't even fall. They just provided a pleasant blur as both women laughed. 

"Oh, thank goodness. I was afraid you'd be upset with me. Bradley told me to text you about a million times, but I knew you were probably having an important weekend with Jake." Then she jerked Jessica out of her arms and eyed her closely. "Jake was good, right? You told him about Brian and he was a gentleman?" 

Something flashed in her eyes that Jessica thought might have been protectiveness. "Yes. I told him everything, and he was... perfect."

"I knew he had it in him," she muttered. "Listen, I can't eat with you today. I promised Dr. Rosenthal I'd meet him to talk shop about the summer term over lunch. But tomorrow?"

"Sure," Jessica told her as she took off toward the elevators with a wave. "See you tomorrow."

After that, she checked her emails and found one from Dean Walters about how successful her alumni weekend event was. She decided she'd stop by his office and try to set up a one-on-one meeting with his receptionist later this week. Jessica probably had former Kappa Pi alum Dr. Gregory Michaels to thank for this, because she was absolutely certain Brain wouldn't have said anything flattering to the dean.

Convinced that Brian at his worst would have no effect on her whatsoever today, she headed downstairs for the weekly meeting with her chin held high. Jessica held the door open for Dr. Leeland and Dr. Nguyen, and then she blended into the back row seamlessly. Of course Brian took the time to thank everyone involved with the weekend by name. Well, everyone other than Jessica. But she just smirked in response. She'd already seen the email from Dean Walters. Brian could just spout off his usual shit until he was blue in the face. She could take it.

Then her physics lecture went smoothly, and Luca turned in a perfect homework set. She almost wanted to hug him, because he actually seemed proud of himself. Even though she ate lunch alone, she had some leftovers that Jake made, and she didn't mind one bit. Especially when he texted her while she was taking her break.

I miss you. I'll be there tomorrow for your office hours. Maybe you can teach me a thing or two.

She was certain she could. She couldn't wait to show him. 

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

When Jake arrived on campus in his uniform on Tuesday evening, he expected to see Bradshaw's wife or perhaps Luca on his skateboard. What he didn't expect to find was a nearly empty science building. He smiled as he pushed the elevator button and rode up to Jessica's floor. Maybe he'd get a chance to have her alone in her office again. 

The weekend had been amazing, especially if he could cut out the parts where Brian Conley made his girlfriend cry. But Jake couldn't even be too upset about that, because after the frat fundraiser, Jessica had opened up even more to him. He finally had a better understanding of the way her mind worked, and he wanted to spend weeks reassuring her that he still felt the same way about her. 

Shit. He was definitely in love. There was no getting around that now. He would tell her soon. He'd figure out the best way to say it so she'd know he meant it. 

Her office door was open a few inches, and Jake could tell she wasn't alone. He heard voices, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. One voice sounded distinctly male, so maybe it was Luca looking for extra help. Based on what Jessica told Jake about his grades, Luca could absolutely use the extra help. So Jake just propped himself against the wall; he had no problem waiting until she was free.

"What the fuck do you mean Dean Walters emailed you directly?"

Jake pushed away from the wall immediately. That wasn't Luca. That was Brian, and he had just raised his voice.

Then he heard Jessica as she quietly said, "He emailed me to tell me I did a great job! This was my fundraiser, and you did nothing but try to prevent me from being successful!" 

"You don't deserve success," Brian hissed, and Jake tried to take some calming breaths. "And you'll never have it here. That includes tenure."

"What happened between us has nothing to do with how well I can do my job!"

When Brian laughed, it made Jake's skin crawl. With his fists clenched, he slowly pushed the door open as Brian said, "You deserve every label I gave you after you tried to ruin my marriage: the idiotic, unreliable department slut. You should have just kept your head down and your cunt available for me. Then you'd have tenure."

Brian had Jessica shoved up against her bookcase full of journals, the ones that Jake loved so much. Her face was red, and he could tell she was on the verge of tears. But she was so fucking strong as she told Brian, "I will get tenure, and you'll look like an asshole to everyone."

Then Brian put his hand on her face, and Jake snapped. "Hey, Conley," he barked, shoving the door so hard that it bounced off the wall before slamming shut. Brian turned to look at him, but his hands remained on Jessica who looked shocked now. "Hands off!" When he didn't back away from Jessica, Jake walked around her desk and as gently as he could with shaking hands, pulled her away from Brian. "You're even dumber than you look, man."

Brian laughed at him. "Yet you're the one trying to defend this slut."

Jake sucker punched him directly in his nose before he could think things through. "Oh, shit," he gasped as blood spurted onto Brian's suit and Jessica's precious collection of journals. 

She gasped next to him. "Jake."

"Fuck!" Brian nearly shouted, reaching for his gushing nose with both hands. "Are you out of your mind?"

But Jake shook his head, because Brian's bullshit wasn't going to work on him. "If I see you touch her or any woman like that ever again, I'll break your entire face. And you better start saying your prayers that I don't go to the dean myself. You think it's smart to leave the door open during Dr. Reed's office hours while you physically and verbally assault her?"

Brian just looked at him as his nose bled and his face started to bruise. Then his gaze shifted to Jessica where she stood slightly behind Jake. "Fuck you, bitch." Then he was gone, sending her door slamming once again.

"Jake," Jessica whispered as he looked at the droplets of blood on the floor and the bookshelf. 

"Jess, I'm sorry," he replied, raking his fingers through his hair. Her eyes were wide as he added, "I'm so sorry. I think I just made things a lot worse."

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

Okay, I love to see him get the punch in while they are in private, but now I'm nervous. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 15

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@cottagecori

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for exposing my sister-in-law's secret during a fight?

Ok, this one is going to need a bunch of context.

I (29F) started to date my fiance F (31M) when I was 26. While he is the sweetest person ever, his family is a bit difficult and it was hard for me to fit in. They are a very traditional family of Japanese descent, very rich too, and his mother MIL (60sF) had a dream of seeing all of her three sons married to other rich girls of Japanese descent. I am white and from very humble origins, so I was not very well accepted at first. The thing that bothered me the most was the constant comparisons to my brother in law BIL's (34M) wife SIL (33F), who is rich and of Japanese descent. I was deeply in love with F and decided to fight for my place in his family; I started to take Japanese classes and ended up really good at it, and I was also the one who took care of MIL after her appendicitis' surgery. She recognized my hard work and we became closer and closer, at the same time she realized SIL didn't make the same effort for her and the family as I do, and she started to be very vocal about how I was her favorite daughter in law and how SIL should do better and try to be more like me. Suddenly, the tables have turned and SIL was the one being compared to me, no the other way around.

Of course she didn't like that at all and started to antagonize me and criticize every small thing about me. She would complain my dog would bark too much (which she did, but SIL was a little mean about it), and when my dog died, she made a comment about how finally she wouldn't have to hear her barking anymore (that stung a lot since I loved my dog with all my heart and she was like a baby to me), she would also complain about my apartment every time she visited me, saying it was too cheap (as I said, I come from humble origins) and her newest topic of complaining are my earrings: I like to wear cute and funny earrings (only at work and family gatherings, I don't wear them at social events or anything like that) and she always talks about how I'm too old to wear them and how tacky it looks. F and I noticed she's been progressively meaner the closer we get to our wedding (three months from now) and think she's trying to scare me away before I become an official part of the family.

One last piece of context: some months ago, F told me in confidence about how 6 years ago SIL's brother and sister in law died in a car accident and left an orphaned boy of 4 years old. SIL was the little boy's only family, but she refused to take him in saying she already had too much work with her own son (who was also 4 at the time). That didn't go well with the family; MIL and my father in law (who was alive at the time) assured her they would help with the kid and she would have all the support, but she simply didn't want the boy, so he was sent to the system. That was something MIL never forgave her for, since family is everything to her, and it was something only MIL, BIL, SIL, F and his younger brother knew. He told me that in confidence and asked me to not tell anyone. I promised I wouldn't.

Now for the actual situation.

Our last family dinner was one of F's cousins' birthday, so all the extended family was around. No kidding, I think there were around 60 people there or more. SIL, once again, decided to mock me about my earrings (little cherry earrings, very cute) and talked again how I was to old to wear them, how they were kid earrings etc. I've been tolerating her bullshit for so long now and after her comments about my dog's death, I was more sensitive than usual, so I snapped back and said that it's not because she dresses herself like an old lady that I have to do the same. She got angry at that and a proper fight started; we saying worse and worse stuff to each other while everyone stopped to watch. It ended up with her mocking my upbringing and calling me a gold digger, accusing my of only being with F for his money. That really struck a nerve because I heard that before at the beginning of our relationship and it always hurt my feelings, since I genuinely love F. Before I could even think about it, I said: "At least I'm not a heartless bitch like you. How's your nephew doing, by the way? Oh, you have no idea, right? Since you put him in a fucking orphanage!"

She got speechless after that and left the place, went straight to her car with BIL and went home. I didn't hear from her or him since them. F is furious with me since he told me that in confidence and now all the extended family knows SIL's secret. MIL doesn't care at all; she never got over what SIL did to that little boy and it's been a while since SIL isn't in her best graces.

Now that I'm calmer I feel a little guilty for exposing SIL like that, but she was always so awful to me that I can't really feel that bad. Mostly, I feel bad for BIL, with who I always had a good relationship and even defended me back in the day when the family didn't accept me very well. Now he's not talking to me either and, as far as I know, he's also not talking to F.

So, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[jolalibrary]

phone sex

javier peña x f!reader | bonus scene of late night texts

summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.

chapter warnings: smut. phone sex. 18+. masturbation (female) i'd recommend you having read chapter four before reading this bonus scene. an: part of my birthday bash, hope you enjoy this little bonus treat.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

You still think you’re that good you could destress me miles away?

most definitely 

Do it then.

what call you

Call me and de stress me, Javier. 

I dare you. 

where’s your phone 

I have a phone in my bedroom. I call you a lot from it. 

you tease

“I can’t get over how you make saying hello sound so good.”

You laugh, it travelling down the phone, settling his nerves. “I still can’t get over how sexy your voice sounds.” 

Smiling, he runs his palm over his thigh. “Is it sexier if I tell you to take off your clothes.”

“Getting straight into it?” 

“I’m an efficient man.” 

You don’t answer, but he does hear you take a breath. 

A loud one. 

One which puffs and then simmers down the phone, through his ear until it settles in his chest. Stretching, spreading across his chest and down his stomach. 

“Take them off slowly for me. One by one.” 

“All of them?” 

“All of them.” 

He tunes into the rustle, to the movement of the phone against your ear and the occasional noise he can’t ascertain. Briefly whispering to tell him what you’re removing, earning him a half-sketched image of what is happening. 

Trousers first, pooling at your feet. A blouse that slides down your arms. Then, to torture him, he hears the snap of one of your bra straps, a slight whimper—

“That for me?” 

It’s soft, your laugh. Laced in heavy lust. “Maybe my finger slipped.”

“Bullshit, baby.” 

“Bet you wish you had a phone in your room.” 

“More than fucking anything.” 

Your laugh is different, briefly interjecting that you’re bra has met the floor, followed by your underwear. 

“Now what?” 

You’re nervous. 

He can tell from the infliction in your tone. He knows your voice now—can tell when something is off.

Usually, you’re so confident, put together, quick on your feet—likely even used to being in control, meeting him tit for tat. 

Now, he wonders if it’s apprehension or shyness. Whether you’d attempt to hide parts of yourself from him, not realising, or ever being told prior how good you look. How pretty.

Because he knows you’re pretty. And he knows you look good. He feels it. He imagines it—you. The outline of a person he doesn’t yet know and skin he doesn’t know the feel of, pebbling in the air of your room. Fingers fiddling, standing close to your bed but not quite on it. 

Licking his lips, he adjusts himself in his jeans. Thankful the house is alone—but still not risking undoing the button on his jeans. Not releasing the zip down the teeth of his trousers—freeing his hardening cock. 

“Lie down for me, baby.” 

It’s soft, the whisper of okay. It likely slipping out from between a teeth-bitten lip. Hearing shuffling, before nothing. 

“You there?” 

You swallow, it loud down his ear. “I’m-m here.” 

“It’s okay. Gonna look after you.” 

It’s sweet, almost comforting the way you sigh. Mumbling that you know, as he asks you where you’d want him to touch if he were there.

And it awakens you, stirs something which banishes shyness. Hearing how you’d want his lips on your neck first, hand on your breast—that you’d want him to kiss down your collarbone, taunt you, tease you—

“Make me wait. Keep me on the edge.”

His eyes close for a second or two longer as your words meet his ear. Hand rubbing his jaw as you continue to tell him how you’d want him to make your toes curl without so much as touching between your legs—

“And then what?” 

Javi balls up his fist, his jeans impossibly tight. The hour impossibly quiet. So much so, he can hear the blood pounding through his ears—can hear the way he lets out a breath. Not shaky. But close.

“Want to feel how heavy your cock is on my tongue, Javi.” 

He groans. Actually fucking groans. 

It stirs something in you that makes the softest whimper of his name travel down his ear. 

“Then want you to touch me, taste me, Javi.” 

Fuck.

“Bet with how much you talk, you’d be good with your mouth,” you add.

His lips curling, laugh hovering on his tongue. “Oh I am, baby.”

It’s the way you moan at that which makes him consider licking a stripe up his palm. He could take a hold of his cock—just hold it. Release the tension, waiting and stemming off the pleasure he could so easily let himself feel.

If only he had a fucking phone in his room. 

He could be palming his cock, doing so with you.

“Wish you’d called my handheld now.”

You let out a breathy laugh. Hearing how it’s followed by a gasped-moan. 

“Fuck, I like the noises you make.”

“Yeah?”

He smirks, hand tightening around his clock. “So pretty. Gimme more, lemme hear more of them, slide another finger in—please—”

“Fuck, Javi, how’d you know—”

He can hear it. Even through the shitty phone—the little frustrated groans you’re emitting because it’s not enough. But you wish it was. 

“Do it,” he says, eyes closing as you moan his name as you slide another in. 

Wishing he could hear it, the sound of them sliding in and out. Desperately wanting to forgo responsibilities and fucking fly to you and do what you just asked him to. 

“So good. You’re so good for me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby. Doing so good—“

“Fuck, Javi.”

He brushes his palm against the outside of his jeans, a spark rushing through him at the contact—not enough, but something. Desperate to keep his hand there, roll his hips to alleviate some pressure in the centre of his childhood fucking home. 

He needs a phone in his room. 

Half-tempted to even risk the bill from calling you back from his mobile, pay the charge—get to chase release the same as you. 

“Wish you’d come with me, Javi.” 

He balls his fist, pressing it to his forehead. Wishing the very same. Wanting it more than fucking anything. 

“Bet you sound g-good too. Moaning my name—“

“What I’d do to you if you were here,” he interrupts. 

Hearing you go silent. Words fading to nothing. How your breathing is heavier, quicker. That you’re suddenly whispering his name, closer to a chant than pleading. 

“I’d grip your thighs, keep you in place as my tongue tastes how much you want me.” 

“J-Javi.”

“I know, baby,” he soothes, hand over his jean-covered cock. “You’re so close, aren’t you? Just need to come.” 

You don’t manage to scream it, never mind mumble a yes. You just make a sound that shoots fire and desperation through him—from head to fucking toe. The hand clasping the receiver so tight, he could crack it—the other palming himself like he can’t control himself. 

And he can’t. 

Not with you. 

“Shit,” he hears you say. “Fuck.” 

He smirks, still hearing your orgasm in his ear—the way his name ripped out of your throat. How it sounded so fucking good. 

“You de-stressed?” 

It’s breathy, the way you whisper yes. 

Clearing your throat, the sound of you moving before you pause.

“Javi?” 

“Yes, baby.”

“Put the phone down, go to your room, and answer your mobile—“

“Wait, it’ll cost you—“

“I said—“

“You fuckin’ got it.” 

an: see you on tuesday for chapter five

[teamatsumu]

was i meant to love you? (last part)

pairing: miya osamu x reader

summary: the kanji on your arm says miya atsumu’s name. but every fiber of your being is in love with his twin brother.

word count: 1501

warnings: swearing, some angst, happy ending

tags: @hadukada @utopiamiroh @angstylittleb1tch @sassycheesecake @i-have-no-life-charlie @tsukiran-blog @mommyourcall420 @ak-aaa-li @ti-mame @ellesalazar @seijaelee @hiraethwa

a/n: this is so late im so sorry writers block is a little bitch but omg this is the last part! I hope you all like it xx

previous part // series masterlist

The living room was hardly silent, between the sitcom playing on TV and Atsumu’s incredibly loud chewing, but it still felt like the air was thick and still around you. You were sure it was just you, and not Atsumu who felt this way. It likely had to do with your apprehension, trying to prepare yourself for the topic at hand. You remembered Osamu’s words, drawing confidence from his encouragement. You tried to revise in your head how to approach this, but your bravery was failing you.

How the hell were you supposed to tell your soulmate that you weren’t in love with him?

Osamu’s platonic soulmates theory didn’t sound all too convincing to you, but hearing that it came from Kita did give you some confidence. You were sure Kita would never put forth an idea that he didn’t consider to have merit. So maybe there was some weight to his words. You were still on the fence though. It all depended on what Atsumu had to say about it.

Speaking of, you watched Atsumu slurp down his ramen like it was his last meal on earth, and you could empathize with him. His routine was grueling. A lot went into being a pro athlete, much more than you could have anticipated. You almost felt bad for springing this on him after a tiring day when he was trying to wind down. But you didn’t exactly have any other opportunity for it.

You cleared your throat and shifted in place, turning so you were facing Atsumu instead of the TV. He turned to look at you, slurping up a noodle dangling from his mouth before licking his lips and giving you a look.

“I need to talk to you about something.” You fidgeted with your fingers, unable to look him in the eye. Atsumu seemed to freeze, leaning forward to place his bowl on the coffee table before facing you and giving you his full attention. Somehow that made it harder for you to get the words out. Your mouth opened and closed like a dumb goldfish. Several moments passed.

Atsumu’s hand landed on top of your own, halting the nervous movements of your fingers. You closed your eyes, feeling a sudden wave of shame wash over you.

“Just say it.” He spoke gently, as if understanding the turmoil going on in your head. You looked up at him, at the calming brown of his eyes and the soft curl of his mouth, and you felt yourself tear up.

“You don’t deserve this.” You breathed, shaking your head. “I can’t do this to you. I’m a horrible person.”

His lip ticked up in a little smile. “Ya gotta give me more than that, babe. I have no idea what yer talkin’ about.”

“I don’t-” You felt the words pour out of you like vomit. “I don’t think I love you. Not like I should. And it’s tearing me apart because I care for you so much and Osamu told me about this thing called platonic soulmates which sounds like bullshit, I know, but it explains the way I’m feeling! But sometimes I just feel like I’m a bad person and this is my way of justifying it-”

“Wait-”

“And I do love you. So much Tsumu, you’re my closest friend and you understand me so well but I don’t feel it romantically at all, which is so fucked up-”

“Hey!” You stopped short, staring at the man before you with teary eyes. You expected him to look horrified. Maybe confused. Definitely hurt. But all you saw was amusement.

“Ya gotta cool it.” He grinned, running a hand through your hair while the other squeezed yours comfortingly.

“S-sorry.” You choked out, sniffling a bit.

Atsumu sighed, staring down at your joined hands. The moment was silent except your wet sniffles, and the very low volume of the TV playing in the background. You watched as Atsumu smiled a bit.

“I’m relieved.” He spoke up, and you blinked at his words. “I always thought I was a fuckin’ asshole, ya know? ‘Cause yer so beautiful and a great person. But kissing ya was kinda painful.”

You gasped. “Hey!”

“Yer telling me the thought of layin’ a smooch on me didn’t make ya wanna barf?” Atsumu retaliated, and you fell silent, still sneering. He chuckled a bit, shaking his head.

“What did ya say it was called?”

“Platonic soulmates.”

Atsumu hummed. “Makes sense. Yer my best friend.”

You smiled at that, squeezing his hand. “And you’re mine.”

When he opened his arms, you fell into them, reveling in his embrace. Somehow, it felt ten times better than any time you had hugged him. You figured it had to do with the fact that your chronic guilt was not bothering you anymore. You buried your face in Atsumu’s neck.

“I love ya.”

“I love you, too.”

A bout of silence.

“But not like that.”

You let out a laugh. “I get it, Tsumu.”

“Just wanted ta make it clear.”

“Shut up.”

And he did. You smiled and settled into him, feeling lighter than you had in years.

……………………

When Osamu saw the look on Atsumu’s face, he immediately froze. He knew, in that instant, that you had talked to his brother. He just knew Atsumu too well to not know any change in his demeanor. And his demeanor had definitely changed. Except it wasn’t the change he was expecting.

Atsumu looked more relaxed. Happier, even? Maybe that was going too far. But then his twin was grinning up at him and settling into a stool in front of the counter, and Osamu could no longer ignore the spring in his step.

“What’s got ya so preppy?” He tested, trying not to build up his hope. Atsumu grinned.

“I just got answers ta some really old questions.” He replied, and Osamu raised an eyebrow.

“Wanna tell me what yer talkin’ about?”

And Atsumu did, sounding jovial, and with a light tone. Osamu stayed rock still as he spoke, unable to believe that Atsumu too had felt this way his whole life. He was almost shocked that he had missed such a huge part of his brother’s feelings, but it was overshadowed by the kindling of hope in his chest at the prospect that he could actually be with the girl he loved.

So when Atsumu had stopped talking, and Osamu had served him a plate of fresh Onigiri, he worked up the courage to drop another bomb on his twin. One that was arguably worse than the Platonic Soulmates one.

“Tsumu,” he began. “What do ya think about her datin’…. someone else?”

“Hm?” Atsumu looked up at his brother. “Why? She like someone?”

Osamu nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. He finally let the words leave his mouth.

“M-me.”

Atsumu stopped eating then, eyes meeting Osamu’s. Osamu felt like he was holding his breath, heart racing.

“I like her too. Uh, it’s- I’ve liked her for a while. Didn’t do anythin’ for obvious reasons, ya know.”

Atsumu sighed, turning back to his plate. He bit into another rice ball.

“What is this? Kimchi mayo? It’s real good.”

Osamu blinked, trying to fight off his incredulity in favor of staring down his brother.

“Are ya for real?”

Atsumu rolled his eyes. “Samu, ‘m not really shocked. It’s pretty obvious ya got a thing for her. And I don’t have anything with her at all, so if ya wanna date, go ahead.”

Then he gave Osamu a lopsided grin, and Osamu felt like everything in the universe had just fallen into place.

“Ya better not break her heart though. She’s still my soulmate.”

Osamu’s smile was genuine. His relief was immense. He felt almost stupid with joy at that point. And he realized he gave Atsumu far less credit than his due. His brother had just stumped him completely, and he couldn’t be more grateful.

“I won’t.”

………………….

Your and Osamu’s first kiss wasn’t anything to write home about. It was at a train station, rushed and messy, so quick that you almost didn’t feel it. It was immediately followed by a feeling of regret, panic and guilt. Something you both wanted so bad, but couldn’t have. So forbidden that it broke your heart into pieces.

Your second kiss was the exact opposite in every single way. Everything that had broken your heart seemed to mend now. Heart and stomachs both full after the wonderful date you had just been on, when Osamu finally leaned down to press his lips on yours. It felt like every fiber of your body had been pulled taut and then released, and your hands felt shaky as you finally allowed them to run over his body. His own grip was worryingly tight, arms enveloping you completely, not that you minded. You reveled in the feeling of his mouth, hoping you never stopped kissing him. Hoping he never let you go.

The kiss did end. But he never let you go.

[gingiesworld]

Obsessions (6/6)

Wanda Maximoff x Rogers Fem Reader

Warnings : angst. Fluff.

Taglist: @sytoran @ginnsbaker @gb12d @lifespectator @natashamaximoff-69 @wizardofstories @canvascoloredin

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5

18+ MINORS DNI

AN: I have decided to leave it here so I may do a sequel series to this. Showing how Y/N and Wanda's friendship grows before turning into something more. Might be more than a mini series like this though :)

Wanda remained true to her word, she stuck by Y/N's side. Even as she watched her from afar as Y/N had to greet all of Peggy's family and friends.

"You really care for her." Sharon stated as she joined Wanda. The two had met briefly as Y/N shared Peggy's last moments.

"I do." Wanda admitted.

"Have you ever thought of telling her?" Sharon questioned as Wanda sighed.

"She knows now how I feel but that is a whole new story." Wanda chuckled as Sharon observed the woman beside her. "I had done some things that I am not proud of, I broke promises to her and abandoned her when I should have just been honest with her and myself."

"I'm sure it will all work out fine." Sharon told her. "Y/N can be stubborn, just like Aunt Peggy." She turned to watch as Y/N took a deep breath before heading outside. "Just give her time." Sharon told Wanda as she noticed her about to follow. "She needs time alone too."

"I can't leave her." Wanda told her as Sharon gave her a gentle smile.

"Y/N prefers to mourn alone, she kept to herself while she was mourning Uncle Steve." Sharon told her. "Smothering her will only push her further away."

"So you know about everything." Wanda stated as Sharon nodded.

"I do." She confirmed. "Y/N is my only cousin and I want to be there for her. So I became someone she could talk to about everything. So I know from the moment you abandoned her to the summer she read your letter."

"Why don't you hate me?" Wanda questioned as Sharon chuckled.

"I wanted to." She told her. "Believe me, but it seems that the two of you have your own bullshit you need to work through, and I have known how she looks at you, ever since you were kids." Sharon turned to see Y/N re-enter the room and head straight for the bar. "She has always loved you more than anyone would think is possible, but she is afraid."

"Why?" Wanda questioned as Sharon finished her drink.

"That isn't really for me to say." She told her before heading to the bar herself. Wanda decided to head out for some fresh air, remembering all of the times Y/N had helped her growing up, all the ways she would gaze at her intensely as they would hold a conversation.

"I thought you left." Y/N spoke up from beside her, Wanda watched as Y/N lit up a cigarette.

"I didn't know you smoked." Wanda told her as Y/N smirked.

"There is a lot about me you don't know about Wanda." Y/N told her as she blew the smoke away from Wanda. "The Y/N you knew was a dumb kid who believed in other people and friendships. Since then, I have somewhat decided it isn't really worth letting your walls down for someone to come in and break you."

"Is that why you're so cold with me?" Wanda asked her confidently. "You think I am going to leave you?"

"You did before!" Y/N told her angrily. "So what's to say that you aren't going to do it again."

"Me!" Wanda yelled at her. "I am not leaving! I am not making that same mistake again!"

"Why?" Y/N questioned. "Why should I believe you?"

"Because I am in love with you!" Wanda screamed, her breathing rapidly as her heartbeat fast in her chest.

"You have to be joking." Y/N chuckled dryly. "This is some sick joke of yours."

"No." Wanda shook her head. "I am in love with you Y/N. I guess on some level I knew all along and I was scared. I was afraid of what everyone would say about me. My parents, Pietro, my friends and peers." She took a deep breath as Y/N really listened to her for the first time. "I was jealous of all of those girls who had you. I was obsessed even. I followed your social media under a fake account. All of the pictures you posted of your artwork, or landscapes of places you visited. Even pictures with Christine Palmer and other girls. I kept track of you and your activities."

"You stalked me?" Y/N asked her with a look of disgust on her face.

"No!" Wanda yelled.

"So is that what this is? You came here to be with me and see my mom before she passed, is this you stalking me?" Y/N questioned as Sharon stood by and watched the two argue.

"No!" Wanda told her. "I wanted to be here for you when you needed someone the most."

"I can't believe this." Y/N stepped away as Wanda's tears started to fall. "I." She shook her head as she looked at her cousin. "I need to go. I can't be here." She pointed at Wanda. "I want your things out of my room before midnight." With that she left as Sharon approached Wanda.

"She'll come around." Sharon told her. "She is just going through a lot right now and her emotions are everywhere."

"No she won't." Wanda whispered as she wiped her eyes. "I've truly lost her. I have lost my chance with her." Wanda soon followed Y/N, but made her way to the hotel. Booking the next flight back to New Jersey, ignoring the feeling of dread in her stomach.

When Y/N had returned to the hotel, Sharon was sitting on the bed, turning to face Y/N as she walked inside.

"She's gone." Sharon told her. "Just like you wanted."

"Good." Y/N mumbled as she took off her jacket.

"She is trying Y/N." Sharon told her. "Maybe you should just try and forgive her, be friends again."

"I am sick and tired of hearing those words from everyone!" Y/N yelled as she slammed her hand on the vanity table. "I have heard it since I first started college from people who don't understand the shit I went through because of her!"

"Y/N." Sharon tried as Y/N shook her head.

"You don't understand Sharon." Y/N told her, her shoulders slumped in defeat. "I loved her. I was in love with her and she broke my heart. No, she shattered my heart when she broke her promises. Many promises and I can't go through that pain again. I just can't."

"So you're just going to be alone for the rest of your life?" Sharon questioned as Y/N sighed.

"No." Y/N told her. "I am going to keep myself guarded for the rest of my life."

When Wanda's plane had landed, Pietro was there waiting for her, a sad smile on his face as he noticed his twins' defeated demeanor.

"I'm sorry Wanda." He told her softly as he took her bag from her.

"It's ok." She shrugged as the two left the airport. "I guess I deserve it really."

"No Wanda." Pietro tried as they approached his car.

"I do." Wanda told him firmly. "I abandoned her when I promised I wouldn't. I was jealous and vindictive. I was an ass all through high school and well, Y/N is gone." She looked out of the window. "Because of me." Pietro remained silent as he drove, leaving Wanda to think about things that have happened over the years.

As the years passed, Wanda had taken over her parent's cafè, her parents wanted to retire and travel for a while. Wanda had remained single as she threw herself into work. Little did she know that Y/N had returned, renting her own apartment.

Everyday Wanda saw the Impala drive by the cafè, but she thought it was her mind playing tricks. Especially since she thought about Y/N everyday since they parted ways. Thinking about where she is? Is she married? Does she have children? Every question remained unanswered until Wanda was about to close up the cafè. Seeing a figure in the door, her heart beating rapidly in her chest as she recognised the eyes. The eyes she had longed to look into after all of the years.

"Y/N?" She questioned as she let her in.

"I uh." Y/N stumbled on her words. "I was out, clearing my head and this was the first place that came to my mind."

"Do you want a coffee?" Wanda asked as she locked the door and put her bag and coat down.

"I actually need to talk to you. Apologise for the way I acted years ago." Y/N told her as Wanda took a deep breath.

"I'll make some tea." She told her as she retreated behind the counter. Getting two to go cups and boiling the kettle. "Where have you been?"

"I stayed in England for a year." Y/N told her as Wanda filled the cups. "Then I went back to college for my last year."

"That was six years ago, Y/N." Wanda stated as Y/N nodded. "Where have you been after college?"

"Around I guess." She shrugged as Wanda brought the tea over. "I was around South America for a while. Then Europe and Eastern Europe."

"How long have you been home for?" Wanda questioned as Y/N sighed.

"A year." She told her. "I bought myself a studio apartment, just big enough for me and my artwork."

"So you still draw?" She asked as Y/N nodded with a bright smile.

"I do." She smiled. "I managed to make a comic, with the help of a new writer."

"That's amazing." Wanda beamed as Y/N nodded.

"It's not popular so you probably haven't heard of it." Y/N shrugged as Wanda shook her head.

"Actually." Wanda stood up and went under the counter, holding up a small comic. "When I saw your name, I had to buy it."

"Wow." She smiled as she looked over the pages. "Thank you." She whispered as Wanda reached for her hand.

"I know these past eight years we haven't been in contact, but I never stopped supporting you." Wanda told her. "Hell, I was gutted when you closed down your instagram, I had no one to stalk." The two laughed as Y/N took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry for how I acted after my mom's funeral." Y/N started, shaking her head as Wanda tried to cut in. "I was a bitch. A ginormous bitch and I shouldn't have taken it out on you the way I did. You flew to England to be with me. You helped me from the moment you arrived and I fucking hurt you that day." She looked at Wanda, her eyes filled with guilt and self hatred. "I remember the look on your face. Even after you confessed your feelings, some part of me in that moment wanted to kiss you, right then but the anger, grief and all of those years of pain thought otherwise and I couldn't stop myself."

"I deserved it Y/N." Wanda whispered as Y/N shook her head no. "I did. I made your life a living hell because I couldn't get over my own insecurities."

"Shall we just start again?" Y/N questioned with a small smile. "You know, get to know each other as the people we are now?"

"I would like that." Wanda smiled.

"Hi, I'm Y/N Rogers." Y/N smiled goofily as Wanda giggled.

"Wanda Maximoff." She returned as she shook Y/N's hand in a playful manner. The two ready to start a new adventure and forgetting everything in the past.

[snippychicke]

It's Just Business-- Part Two

Ya'll have seen that gifset of this man's smile, right?

Addicting.

Fandom: One Piece (LA mainly)

Rating: Teen so far

Pairing: Sanji/Reader

Warnings: No real warnings, but god, I hope you like pining

Summary: You felt like you had known Sanji forever, considering your family had been the main merchants Zeff used to supply the Baratie. You had a small crush on him, but knew it was hopeless considering you were the one woman he didn't seem to pine over. 

It was fine. Or so you thought until you ended up on the Going Merry as a bookkeeper and supply manager. Being around him 24/7 was a lot more difficult than just a few days a week.  

(Please note 》°《 denotes a scene in the past while -*- will be a regular scene break. Because yeah, I like my non-linear story telling.)

Masterpost | Ao3

Voyage 

You had been raised on a ship. Solid land was unnatural to you compared to a swaying wooden deck. And you were well aware Sanji was the same, except one crucial thing: the Baratie was free-floating for the most part. Sailing and navigating had not been a large part of the chef's education. 

And looking at Luffy, Zoro, and Usopp, you had your doubts it had been theirs. None of them struck you as experienced sailors. "Do any of you know how to sail?" You bluntly asked as you watched them prepped their ship to leave the Baratie after Nami. 

You definitely hadn't followed Sanji down to the docks, your stomach in knots because he was leaving the Baratie. And joining the upstart pirate crew that had both fought the legendary Mihawk and the infamous Arlong. It didn't bother you. You weren't worried at all. 

It was bullshit and you were fuming underneath all the fear you couldn’t shake. There were too many emotions that it was far easier to just bottle them up and focus on the problem at hand.

As you suspected - and feared - none of the men looked completely confident as they shrugged their shoulders. "Kinda?" Was the general consensus between the three men you didn’t know, which is not what you wanted to hear. 

You looked at Sanji, who had already stepped onto the deck. But he was hardly helpful considering he simply shot you an impish smile as if he knew what you were thinking and was all for it. The look in his eyes was virtually daring you. 'Come on. You know you want to.'

Granted, you weren't even sure what you were doing. Or why. (You did, you just didn't want to admit to it.)

You groaned as you rubbed your forehead. Men. "Okay, follow up question. Do you even know where Arlong's base is?"

Luffy lightened up at that question, giving you a moment of hope. "I don't, but Binky does!"

Binky?

To your horror, the wanna-be pirate captain led you along with the others into the cabin where a black bag sat on a table. Before you could even question what was going on, Luffy pulled a decapitated head out of that bag. "Bendy knows where Arlong is, and will tell us as long as we get his body back!"

You had a moment of severely doubting Luffy’s sanity before the head moved. And spoke, glaring up at Luffy. "The name's Buggy. Not Bendy, not Blinky, Buggy."

The only reason you didn't fall over or bolt was Sanji's arms suddenly wrapping around you as soon as you screamed, pulling you close in an attempt to reassure you. 

"WHAT THE FUCK!" 

The clown's grin grew, amused by your reaction. "Hello to you too, gorgeous. You boys didn't waste any time replacing the redhead, did ya?"

"She's not replacing Nami," Luffy stated firmly, which was at odds with his smile. "But she's going to help us rescue her, right?" 

Rescue. Right. Because that is what comes jumping to your mind when you heard Nami apparently left with the towering fishman of her own volition, as well as a map to the Grand Line. Why was no one else freaking out over the living bodiless head?

"She's one of the best sailors I know," Sanji said, his grip tightening slightly around your waist. "And could punt your head off the deck like a ball if you insult her again." 

Oh. You felt a blush rising to your cheeks despite yourself. "And she is right here and able to talk for herself. Besides, I know where the Conomi Islands are, it's just that most avoid it like the plague since Arlong took over." Including yourself. Because you liked living.

Gods only know why. 

-*-

Which is how you ended up as the in-term navigator of the Going Merry, and seriously considering jumping overboard after just a day of sailing with the Strawhat pirates.

Luffy was both obnoxiously optimistic and bullheaded. It probably wouldn’t be too awfully bad if he wasn’t determined to find out what your dream was, and the fact he was absolutely certain you were now part of his crew. 

You never agreed to anything of the type. You just didn’t want the idiots - mainly your idiot - getting lost at sea. 

Zoro was decent on his own, except he was also being rather bullheaded for an idiot that was just on death's door days earlier. Either he was green with seasickness, or from the combination of blood loss and pushing himself too far. And then there was the fact that when he was around Sanji the two were constantly moments away from throwing punches. Well, kicks and swinging swords, to be more accurate.

Usually you would instantly be on Sanji’s side, but considering Sanji was currently smitten with Nami you were about ready to take one of his skillets and knock some sense into him as well. 

You knew he flirted with girls. Ever since you were both teenangers, he'd been a massive flirt with every female-presenting person that walked through the doors of the Baratie. Every week you heard the stories that were romanticized by Sanji, incriminating from the rest of the crew, with the truth probably somewhere in between.

But you had never seen it up close like this. Usually it was an hour or two at kost before he moved on to the next. 

Nami was beautiful; there was no denying that. You had met her briefly while you helped Zeff stitch Zoro up - being a merchant meant pirate attacks, which meant first aid was a necessity to survive - and you could get why he was infatuated. But god, it made you ill to hear Sanji be as determined as Luffy that she had done nothing wrong and was incapable of being a traitor. You weren't jealous. Not at all. Nope.

Then there was a talking head of Buggy that was thankfully usually handled by either Zoro or Sanji. And actually, Usopp was pretty decent other than either being a compulsive liar or just enjoying telling tall tales. Sailed the East Blue by himself? You called that bull within seconds of watching him trying to manage the sail. You'd be surprised if he had more than a week's worth of sailing experience.

-*-

You managed the helm, noting the direction of your trusty compass when a shadow fell over you. Your stomach twisted, hoping it wasn’t Luffy again asking how much longer. 

"Figured you could use a little afternoon snack," Sanji offered when you looked up, causing a moment of relief. There was no denying the warmth that filled your chest at seeing him, or to see an assortment of finger-foods --each more appetizing than the last-- on the small plate he offered.

"I shouldn't… I'm still pretty full from lunch." Yet they looked so good, and smelled even better. But god, you had eaten so much at lunch, far more than you usually did. One of the perks of having a chef aboard instead of deciding how much energy you wanted to expend on cooking. 

Sanji didn't seem convinced as he leaned closer so he could faux-whisper: "If you don't accept them, I'm pretty sure Luffy will inhale them before you get a second chance." 

Fair. The boy had an appetite more legendary and unbelievable than his gum-gum fruit abilities. He was thin as a rail, but you had seen him eat more than his own weight already.  

As if sensing your waivering judgment, Sanji picked up one of the treats and held it to your lips. You hope you didn't look as red as you felt as you hesitantly opened your mouth to accept. Especially when you glanced up at his eyes while you did so. It did nothing well for you seeing that pleasant faint smile on his face as he fed you, his fingers brushing your lips slowly and softly. 

"I'm glad you're with us," He confessed as he pulled his fingers away. "I'd hate to have to rely on a clown for directions." 

You smiled despite a full mouth, taking your time to enjoy your treat - and maybe enjoying watching him relax against the nearby rail, indulging in one of the finger-foods himself. Seeing him relaxed and set against the open sea, wind teasing his blonde hair was quite the sight if you were to be honest.

"Well, that's what friends do," you offered once.you were finished. "Back each other up even if the other is being incredibly stupid." 

His eyes narrowed though his expression was playful. Which did not help your heart fluttering any. 

Oh yes, this was a very stupid idea. On both parts. 

You were not going to join once they got their navigator back. No way. You couldn’t stand being around him day in and day out. 

》°《

You frowned as you saw Sanji leaning against the railing overlooking the main floor of the Baratie, the young teen looking like a love struck idiot. You adjusted the plastic tote of used dishes and silverware in your hip as you approached, looking over the railing.

A group of girls - probably a few years older than you - sitting at one of the center tables. Dressed in beautiful gowns, hair sleek and shiny, and all laughing as they talked amongst themselves. 

It had been the running theme since your parents left you in the care of Zeff while they sailed to Logue town for some convention - apparently not trusting you enough to take you to one of the largest cities of the East Blue. 

You weren't bitter. Not at all.

"You'll just make a fool of yourself," You sighed as you returned to clearing the empty table from the lunch rush, well aware of Sanji's eyes glaring holes into your back. 

"What do you mean by that?" He shot back as he followed you, setting out new dishes and silverware from his own tote. 

"I mean exactly that. If you go down there and even try to talk to them, you'd end up making a fool of yourself. They'll be laughing their heads off." 

"They would not," He defended hotly. "And I would not make a fool of myself. I'd be absolutely charming." 

You laughed at that. Stuck between a kid and a teen, Sanji was anything but charming in your eyes. He had reached a growth spurt, losing some of the baby weight from when you had met him, but now looked like a bean pole with gangly limbs. "Sure, Sanji. Be honest, you haven't even kissed a girl before. How are you going to sweep them off their feet if you have no idea what you're doing?" 

It was fun to watch him turn bright cherry red as he spluttered. "You haven't exactly kissed anyone either, I bet!"

You could feel your own cheeks brighten as you huffed. "That's besides the point! You're the one doing the fawning, not me." 

There was a lull of silence as you worked until the rest of the tables were cleaned and ready for the dinner rush. "You know," Sanji said as you both surveyed your work. "There's an easy solution to our problem." 

You frowned as you looked up at him. "Our problem? I wasn't aware we had a problem." 

There was a pink tinge to his cheeks as he avoided your gaze, itching his neck nervously. "The fact we've never kissed anyone." 

Oh. 

You blushed as you looked away. "I think that's more of a you problem, more than anything." Still, your stomach twisted with butterflies at just the mere thought.  Surely he wasn't implying what your mind was jumping to. 

"I'm just saying if we kissed each other, then that's one less thing to worry about." 

Nope, he was. 

Up until this point, that was something that you had never worried about. Yet here you were, questioning if that was something a girl your age should be worrying about. You hadn't been around a lot of other people in your age group, except Sanji really. 

Did those girls down there already have their first kiss? Were they talking about their boyfriends or girlfriends or whatever? 

You screwed your eyes shut, annoyed at the sudden onslaught of questions your own mind was coming up with. 

"Fuck it," You swore - your parents were going to regret letting you live on the Baratie for a few months because of your new colorful language. 

You sharply turned towards Sanji, grabbing his tie and tugging him closer to press a kiss to his mouth

 Well, you were aiming for his mouth, but being as flustered as you were, it was equal parts his lips and cheek. But it still counted, right? 

"There, happy?" You bit out despite the burn in your cheeks as Sanji stared at you. It didn't help that he looked as startled as you had ever seen him.

"Y-you…"  He stammered for a moment before his brain finally started to work, his eyes narrowing in confusion. "You call that a kiss?"

"My lips touched yours!" You defended huffily. "So yes, I do."

“That was not a kiss,” He argued. “At least, not one that counts.”

“Oh? And who made you the kissing expert?”

As if you weren’t feeling flustered enough, Sanji stepped closer as he cupped your cheek, pinning you with those light blue eyes of his. You couldn’t move as he leaned in, gently pressing his lips to yours. And, okay, it wasn’t bad, but you still didn’t quite see the appeal of it as he pulled away. Granted, the way your heart was pounding painfully in your chest didn’t help matters much.

“That’s a kiss,” He murmured after a moment.  

Your anger rose to protect your honor as you took a step back, “Same thing as what I did. Just slow, like yourself.” 

The soft expression on his face changed as he crossed his arms, “Are you saying you didn’t enjoy it?” 

You shrugged your shoulders, “I mean, it was nothing special.” Honestly, him touching you had made your heart quicken more than the actual kiss itself. It was nothing like the earth-shattering experience your books made it out to be.

“Let me try again,” He insisted, causing you to scoff. 

“No,” You stated, already turning away. “You got two kisses, that’s more than enough.” 

Sanji whined your name as he followed you back towards the kitchens. “C’mon. You’re practically saying I’m a bad kisser!” 

You smirked to yourself as you shot a look over your shoulder. “Well, I mean….” 

The stricken look on your face made you laugh. “I’m kidding, Sanji. It wasn’t bad. I just don’t see the appeal. You’re a playboy, so of course you’d like it. I’m just different from you.” “I’m not a playboy,” He huffed. “Finding women beautiful does not make me one of those. Once I find the one, that’s it. I just… have to find her, is all.”

[sophswritingthings]

You are evil, sososososo evil because now Mizu calling reader princess is stuck in MY head too! 😭😭Also I didn’t know about that ab hydrangeas and I think their symbolism is quite fitting for that Drabble!!!

So what if mizu and noblewoman!reader were playing a game of Go (the board game we saw seki and akemi play), with lots of smart quips and teasing (SUCH AS MIZU CALLING READER PRINCESS AAAAAA) on each end. But little does reader know, she’s actually abysmal at playing and Mizu has been purposefully keeping the game going for as long as possible by losing pieces

But then reader teases mizu/says something that genuinely distracts her and because mizu was making sure they were on par with eachother, the reader actually wins the game because of how distracted mizu got imagining what reader just said

But because mizu is defensive as hell she quickly snaps out of it and says how she intended to keep the game going because of how reader is so bad, and if reader really wanted to beat Mizu, maybe mizu could “tutor” her in private 👀

pairing: mizu x fem!noblewoman!reader

warning(s): light swearing, god the flirting is palpable and they are idiots

a/n: EVIL????? LMAO. as a writer it is my job to get you invested so you leave more work for me to do!! I do what must be done!!

summary: playing a game of go with mizu, the tension is palpable. the samurai keeps strong, but it’s quick before you break her.

word count: 425 words / 2,257 characters 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“mizu,” you began, moving your white piece to the spot before it. “I am starting to wonder if you actually know how to play.”

you arch an eyebrow at her.

“of course I know how to play,” she hisses, moving her piece to a spot she probably shouldn’t have.

mizu did know how to play. In fact, she wasn’t half bad at it, either it.

she was truly trying to keep the game going for as long as she could.

“I used to play with my sword-father.” she kept her gaze focused on the board, trying to know where you (and she) should place your pieces.

“ah, I see,” you nod your head. “so he taught you, then?”

“yes he did,” mizu murmured.

“well—“ you chuckled, placing your piece directly atop of hers, circling it. “he wasn’t a very good player.”

she scoffed, “I will have you know, princess, he was a fine player.”

“just not good enough,” you giggle as you slid her white piece of the board.

she took in a sharp inhale, moving to also capture one of your pieces.

despite all of your teasing and confidence, she knew you were actually shit at the game.

she’d seen you play with a friend of yours, before. a few times, actually.

never had you won one game.

“hmm, maybe I’m a bit too distracting for your own good, mizu?” you smirked at her, giggling as you saw her face light up.

mizu was stunned, by your words. she didn’t know what to make of them, she truly didn’t.

“ha!” your yelp snapped her out of her thoughts, “I win!”

her eyes widened, big as the sun, staring down at the board.

you were right. you had won.

her eyes narrowed, directing her gaze back up at you.

“bullshit—I was trying to keep the game going so we could talk.” she grumbled.

“hm, yes? Is that true?” you laughed, “are you sure about that?”

“yes, princess, I’ve seen you play before.” she chuckled herself, “I know you can’t play for shit.”

“hm,” you crossed your arms across your chest, that smirk plastered on your face never dipping, “why don’t you teach me, then.”

the proposition sounded.. interesting, to say the least.

sure, she’d taught you things before—a bit with her sword, how to shoot a bow and arrow.

but getting to spend long periods of one-on-one time with you?

that sounded like music to her ears.

“alright,” she conceded. “I’ll tutor you.”

you nod, gathering your feet and bowing to her.

“tomorrow. same time.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[gay-dorito-dust]

Damian thinking he can cure depression and all of your negative mindsets by letting you cuddle and hug Bat-Cow.

He’d personally drag you all the way to the barn and then promptly point towards the half-awake cow lounging in the farthest corner and with the straightest face he says;

‘Hug the cow y/n.’

You’re confused, you’re depressed and have told him so in confidence, and here he was demanding that you cuddle up to the bovine, who was staring at you both with their dark eyes.

‘Why?’ You’d ask, eyes never leaving the cow and Damian sighs impatiently. ‘It’ll cure your current aliment of depression.’ He says with such certainty that you almost believed him for a minute…almost.

‘Damian this is stupid, even for you-‘ however before you could finish your sentence, Damian was already pushing you from behind towards Bat-Cow, who only watched as you were positioned into their warm side, silently chewing before becoming disinterested and went back to resting their head on the floor.

Bat-cow didn’t smell the greatest but then again…they were a fucking cow but they were warm and fluffy and comfortable, so much so that you ended up cuddling further into them found yourself falling asleep almost instantaneously with a small smile on your lips. ‘Good Bat-Cow…’ you murmur sleepily as the bovine only huffs out hot air, unfazed at you cuddling them as everyone from Damian to even Jason had come once in a while to cuddle up into their side.

Damian made a satisfied noise and was about to leave when he noticed that there was a space big enough for him to slot himself against Bat-Cow also. He shifts he gazed all across the entire barn, making sure he wasn’t being observed somehow, before cuddling himself into the side of the large animal.

Damian wouldn’t find out until way later that he was indeed being observed as he chased after Tim throughout the manor, sword in hand.

Jason who loves to cuddle you as though it’s been forever since you last saw each other.

(It had been five minutes max, you needed to piss.)

He’d even make it his personal mission to carry you in his arms anywhere and everywhere he went in the apartment. He will not hear the cliche ‘I’m too heavy’ bullshit excuse, let him carry you in his arms damn it! He wants to hold you! Do not reject him this golden opportunity!

He doesn’t care if anyone like Bruce, Dick or Roy are present because if anything it shows them that he had someone in his life that he loved and adored more than anything. Roy/Dick -mainly Dick- may tease him to high heavens about it but Jason only shrugs it off and says albeit childishly: ‘well at least I have someone to hold onto every night unlike you dickhead.’ Before casually carrying you into the kitchen with him to grab a drink.

(Remember that ‘Gator needs his gat, you punk ass bitch.’ tiktok Trend where ppl picks up their friend? Yh that’s what goes on in my head when writing this.)

Jason fears as though he’s not spending enough time with you. Which is bullshit because this man spends every waking moment with you being cute and loving and just the absolute best in general.

He’s not use to the whole relationship thing and he’s overthinking everything he’s doing and worries that it might be the breaking limit for you. So all you got to do is hold his face in your hands, rest your head against his own and reassure him that he was spending more than enough time with you. It’ll probably won’t get rid of the notion that he wasn’t doing enough for you out of Jason’s head, but at least it was something that he could be reminded of when he was getting too lost in his thoughts.

He’s a worrywart and a big one at that, but as long as you keep being his anchor, keep being the reason his head feels a lot clearer and so on, then Jason will gradually come to learn that he never needs to worry about anything when you’re more than happy to keep reminding him that it’s okay to worry, and that he wasn’t being suffocating or otherwise.

Jason maybe physically imposing and intimidating to look at for some people but to you, he was like those badly stereotyped big dogs that are the biggest sweethearts. Dogs such as:

Rottweilers

XL bully dogs

Pit bull

Doberman Pinscher and more.

He’s a sweetheart who just looks intimidating, nothing more nothing less…unless you happen to be a criminal then Jason is anything but the word sweet or adorable as they’re getting their asses beaten.💀

Dick always asks you if you still love him after every minor inconvenience.

It doesn’t matter what happens or how it happens, he always give you those puppy dog eyes of his and pouts his lips. ‘Do you still love me?’

‘Dick we’ve been through this before, of course I love you.’ You’d reply.

‘But you looked really annoyed right now and I just wanted to know if you still like me enough to date me.’ He then says as he rests his head on your shoulder, pressing himself against your back.

You sighed before looking over at him and pressing a tender kiss to his cheek. ‘Does that clear everything up for you?’ You asked rhetorically as Dick beamed brightly and stole a kiss from your lips, reinvigorated. ‘Yep.’ He’d respond before moving on with the rest of his day.

If you were to accidentally forget to kiss him good morning or before you were leaving for work, Dick would take full offence as he places himself in front of the door, arms crossed and lips formed into that pout you were more then familiar with at this point. ‘You hate me.’

‘Dick I’m in a hurry!’ You cry, looking at the time.

‘And you forgot my good morning kisses!’ He’d cry back at you and you would be several minutes late to work, all because you were making up for the misses kisses. You hate Dick sometimes but you knew you couldn’t be mad at him for long when he’d smother in kisses upon arriving him from work, so you guessed he could be given a pass…just this once.

[mollyjames]

Sonny Boy is a really interesting to pick apart because it's one of those shows where you feel kinda dumb for not following what's happening, but everybody is saying things that sound confident and correct so you just kinda assume that you missed something, only to go back later and realize "oh, we're just bullshitting this, huh?" I think it's extra sneaky because the first few episodes are actually very good at setting up some weird sci-fi scenarios, and it's a fun puzzle to try and figure out what's happening, and all of the rules make a kind of cosmic sense in the same way that good Doctor Who is able to construct an episode around completely made up alien timey wimey nonsense but it all works because we can follow the explanation and it matches up with what we've watched. It's only about halfway through the show's plot folds into itself and collapses under the weight of its own silly nonsense- like bad Doctor Who.

I find this a lot more forgivable though because, for one, it's only 12 episodes, so the relative fallout really only impacts like... 3 and a half episodes. Maybe 4 total, if you add it all up. For another, at a certain point, Sonny Boy doesn't really care. It makes a token effort to continue the narrative, but it's really at its best when it gives up on explaining things and just... is. When it realizes that none of that really matters. And that lets it push its premise to its logical extreme and takes the show much much farther than you would expect for only 12 episodes.

It helps that I really like the ending. Sonny Boy is an isekai, of sorts, but I think it falls better into an older niche category called Portal Fiction. Classically, this is where you get stuff like The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, Alice In Wonderland, The Wizard Of Oz, etc... I read a lot of Portal Fiction as a kid. It was my favorite genre, but my favorite part, the part that really got my brain bubbling, was the ending. See, one of the enduring qualities of Portal Fiction and isekai to an extent, is that it is transparent about the fact it is telling a story. We get engrossed in those stories in the same way the characters do, and at the end of the story the characters return to the Real World, and we are returned to real life. What the characters do at the end of the Portal Fiction informs what we were meant to take from it, but it's also the point where the characters feel the most real, the most complete. It never feels like it lasts long enough. It's what makes the last episode of Sonny Boy so brutal at first, and also so special. I finally got what I wanted.

There's more I want to talk about here... honestly if anything ever gets me to finally make the dreaded Video Essay (tm) it'll be this. I also think my own personal experience contributed a lot to my enjoyment. Confession time: I never vibed with FLCL. I've watched it through a few times; it just doesn't line up with my experience growing up, or what I was dealing with. Sonny Boy does. If there's one takeaway here, I guess it's go watch Sonny Boy. It's really shot up to being one of my favorite anime of all time. It's not gonna be for everyone, but I think the people who like it will really like it. And uh... don't feel like you have to understand it to get it.

[dandunn]

The experience I just had applying with a disability confident employer just entirely broke my perception of job interviews over my knee.

Like don't get me wrong it was some A-grade Bullshit before, but now I'm questioning why even neutotypicals are okay with how it works.

Like okay, I really bonked up my first interview, not only was I incredibly nervous but they asked me questions where even if I had been given 20 minutes to answer I would've struggled.

But they were nice to me and gave me the list of questions they asked so I could go away and answer them in my own time, then yesterday I basically interviewed again and gave my answers as a kind of prepared speech/PowerPoint presentation. Which went a lot better for me as you can imagine.

But it made me think why. Why isn't this how all interviews are conducted?

Like okay, maybe it's fine if you've already had some job interview experience and can predict the things they're going to say, but there's always going to be at least one question you're not going to have a pre-prepped answer for.

I flat out didn't know that asking for the list of questions was even an option before this, and I guess it's not really something you want to ask in case you offend a potential employer. But like, why. Sure they WANT you to be able to answer off the cuff, it's a great skill, but not everyone is gonna have that! I sure don't!!!

And why is it Expected of you in the first place! I need time to think about my answers so I can give a better and more accurate answer, let me do some homework dammit.

[thephantomcasebook]

Your posts about Olivia Cooke really opened my eyes, I went on a deep dive to see some stuff. and seeing her talk about alicent and everything it just seems like she's talking out of her ass. I read the other day about Sara Hess talking about a convo with her and Cooke speaking about how Olivia has her own "head canons" for alicent and rhaenrya.

Like just about how alicents mother found out that young alicent and rhaenrya were kissing and making out? That just rubbed me the wrong way. Like two girls kissing I don't give a shit? Love who you want but when your a grown woman, in your thirties talking about children making out? That's disgusting the way she plan out says that. I was wondering your other opinions on that whole mess she's got going on.

Look ...

I've said my piece about Olivia Cooke over the years. I think she's a really good actress. I just watched "The Secret of Crickley Hall" and I liked it quite a bit, and I got really attached to Nancy because Cooke was so good. I've liked her since "Bates Motel" and knew even before trying House of the Dragon Season 1 that I was probably going to like her as Alicent - though I was already predisposed because I already liked both Alicent and Criston as characters before the show. She has this uncanny ability to make you attached, strongly, to the characters she plays.

When she's on screen you can't help but love her.

In the end, my problem is not personal to Olivia Cooke, it to actors and Actresses in general, especially toward actors and actresses of a certain age group - mostly late millennial people. I think they're vapid, empty headed, morons, who say creepy and weird shit, cause, they're surrounded by creepy weird people and caught up in social bubbles that don't exist in reality.

Cooke is just one actress among many of our generation who lack empathy and believe less in inhabiting a character and their life and more stripping the character so that they can feel more comfortable in their skin by making them more like the actor/actress. It's naked narcissism, the easiest to spot from anyone who knows how to analyze personalities and performances. And while Olivia Cooke is very - VERY - good playing Alicent, she'll never get past herself, because, Cooke wants to play Alicent the way Cooke wants rather than how Alicent should be played as an established character.

Cooke's naked misandry and bullshit angry bimbo feminism got in the way of Alicent being played consistently.

Alicent should not be angry with the people around her, she should not be hitting and yelling at the people close to her. Criston Cole is her closest and most trusted friend, confidant, and partner in all things - more so than Rhaenyra ever was. When Criston Cole was named Hand of the King, Alicent should not be berating or trying to humiliate Criston cause he took her daddy's job. When Criston got named Hand of the King, it should've been played that Criston AND Alicent got named Hand of the King because they're partners and they do everything together. Criston was Alicent's in to regaining power because there's no one who knows Criston better and who Criston trusts more than Alicent. Any writer would've written with the actor's full support that Alicent would be living in Criston's lap, co-ruling and plotting with him. Not berating him and throwing childish temper tantrums.

It shouldn't have been Otto and Alicent trying to control Aegon and the Green Council. It should've been Otto versus Alicent and Criston in a power struggle as it was in the book. When Aemond and Criston were plotting in Aemon's apartments, Alicent should've been in the room with them. The Crownland Campaign should've been Aemond, Criston, and Alicent's brainchild together ... as it was in the book.

Now, you might say that this is a writing a problem. And it is to a large extant. But Olivia Cooke is not exempt from blame. The actors - because of the strike - had a lot more say in the development of the characters this season - which is big mistake. And while some actors had great instincts, such as Matt Smith and Tom Glynn-Carney. Olivia Cooke chose and championed to play the angry and embittered - Alicent hates all these warmongering men - angle. Several actors spoke up to fix their characters and pushed back against the writing to make their characters better - Tom Glynn-Carney being the golden example. But Olivia Cooke did not, in fact she made Alicent worse.

This is because Cooke relishes in Misandrists power fantasies in which she gets her rocks off belittling and dismissing men. She has made no secret about it, and has run her mouth more than once about it in interviews for not just House of the Dragon but other projects in the past.

There was even a scene that Sara Hess wrote about Alicent dismissing Criston before the dinner 1x08 with a cold and snotty attitude like he was a dog. And it was cut because GRRM and another producer felt that it was incredibly disrespectful to Criston's character and was completely out of character for Alicent to ever treat Criston Cole that way. But Cooke later came out and said that she was really annoyed they cut it and spoke candidly about enjoying treating men that way. She also spent a lot of time in Season 1 at premieres bashing men as a whole, to a nauseating, unfunny, degree.

With that context, and other examples of the like, the assassination of Alicent as a character in Season 2, really starts to take shape. Yes, a lot of it was Sara Hess with Condal's dumb ass never saying no. But a lot of the path leading to Alicent betraying Criston and her sons comes from Olivia Cooke's misandrist bimbo feminism.

Any actor, in their right mind, would immediately push back and argue how dumb and out of nowhere Alicent's betrayal comes from. Any actor would know their character and the source material enough to say "Yeah, there's no way Alicent would do that to her sons, her brother, and the man she's loved since she was 14-years-old". Other actors on this fucking show pushed back and fought to keep uncharacteristic writing from ruining their characters - Tom Glynn-Carney gate kept Aegon fiercely behind the scenes.

The reason that Cooke didn't push back or tried to maintain Alicent's character is because the idea of Alicent betraying her family to join Rhaenyra is something that Cooke wants and agrees with politically. She did it for the ops, not for the character. Cooke got a hard-on at the idea of betraying men to join team girl-boss, "cause Like Girl Power and shit!" and not once did she give a flying fuck about the integrity of the character she was playing. Because, fuck it, she's on team feminism!

Like I said, my issues with Olivia Cooke is not personal, she is a symptom of a narcissistic rot of the profession in general in which actresses no longer play a character but play out wish fulfillment and power fantasies, and if a character is "Problematic" than they change them to suit their personal preferences.

Cooke could and would play a flawless Alicent if she was kept in line by an iron fist of a competent and experienced showrunner and producer that would curb her selfish bad habits and demand a little more professionalism from her.

[ladykailitha]

Grief (A Friend Indeed) Part 12

And here we are at the end. Thank you so much for being on this journey with me.

Here we have Steve's POV of the last scene from last week, he talks to Hopper and Steve's uncle further proves he'd be a better parent than Clint Harrington.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt 11

****

Steve watched Eddie march to the truck and let out a shuddering breath. He thought that they had really connected here. But now as they were going back to Hawkins it appeared that Eddie was just going to leave that here in Ashland.

He got to his car and looked at the sad little cooler and just lost it. He started cursing and hitting the steer wheel.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” he hissed. “You never did hear a name, did you, Harrington? Apparently he was in love with someone else all this time and was only being nice because you were having a mental break down.”

He could feel the tears stream down his face. Bitter and angry. “You should have been supporting him not the other way round. That’s probably why he’s soooo pissed at you. Because he was grieving and you made it all about you. Like you always do. Fuck!”

Just then the passenger side door was wrenched open and Eddie slid in.

The tears dried up instantly in his surprise. “Eds?”

And then Eddie proceeded to just knock all his intrusive thoughts out of the fucking ballpark. Just sent them running like a scared dog with its tail between its legs.

Then kissed him about it.

They still needed to have a proper conversation but that could wait until they were back in Hawkins.

Steve could live with that.

*

When they got home they had that talk. Eddie learned about all the different girls who had propositioned him and was pissed on his behalf.

“That’s fucking bullshit,” he said. “You shouldn’t have had to deal with that.”

Steve shrugged. “You had enough on your plate. Plus, I sicced Uncle Danny after them.”

Eddie blinked. “Oh. I think I would have paid good money to see that.”

“I didn’t have to send anyone after Beth though,” Steve said with a grin, “Lauren did that all on her own.”

“I’m so glad you two got along,” Eddie murmured. “But in the future, you tell me these things. I want to protect you, the way you protect everyone else, okay?”

Steve agreed.

Wayne walked into the new house provided by the government, wiping his hands on an old rag.

“Everything is in the garage for us to sort and place later,” he told Eddie.

“You two going to be wanting help getting everything in?” Steve asked.

Wayne shook his head. “Lauren and her Uncle Hal are coming out next week to help out.”

Eddie ran his tongue over his teeth thoughtfully. “Yeah? I didn’t hear about that.”

Wayne had the presence of mind to blush. “It must have slipped my mind.”

“Uh-huh,” Steve and Eddie said together.

Wayne cleared his throat. “So I’m going to be seeing you a lot more now that you and Ed are together?”

Steve grinned, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s waist and putting his head on his shoulder. “I’ll be here so often, you’ll think I live here.”

Wayne hummed. “We’ll come back to that in a few months.”

Eddie blushed. “Nice to know you aren’t planning the wedding already, old man.”

Wayne blinked innocently. “Oh I am, but I’m thinking fall of next year or the year after.”

Eddie coughed and sputtered as Steve laughed.

He turned to Steve. “Why aren’t you defending me against this?” He waved at Wayne’s smug expression.

“Because I’m already coming up with arguments for a late spring early summer wedding instead.”

Eddie’s jaw dropped. “That’s some confidence you got there, darlin’. What makes you think I’ll say yes.”

Steve kissed him, slow and searing.

Eddie blushed. “Yup. Okay. Uh-huh. Point made.”

Wayne just smiled fondly.

*

Steve was really starting to regret setting the party on his Uncles Percy and David.

Robin, El, and Will had kidnapped Percy, while Dustin, Mike, and Nancy had absconded with David somewhere.

Eddie, Lauren, and Jonathan were talking to Hal and Lucas, Max, and Erica were talking to Wayne.

Hopper came up to Steve and put his arm around his shoulders.

Steve relaxed into the embrace.

“You did good, kid,” Hopper said. “I’m proud of you.”

Steve nodded and then rubbed the end of his nose, trying to fight back the tears.

“I had a long talk with Joyce about some of her choices that she made while I was gone,” he continued. “I’m glad I’m out of that hell hole, but she should have made sure everyone was safe first.”

“She had a lot on her plate,” Steve murmured.

Hopped cuffed the back of his head. “Don’t you go forgiving her without her apologizing first. I had to go back to California because apparently some fucked up general decided to shoot up the Byers house in Lenora.”

Steve looked over at Hopper in shock. “They did what now?”

Hopper nodded. “It was a complete shit show. But you have to know, I wouldn’t have just left you behind if I didn’t think you could handle it.”

“I know, I just...”

“Just wish you didn’t have to handle it?” he asked. Steve nodded. “I getcha. I wish you didn’t have to either. But I trust you to take care of everyone here, because I know they’re in safe hands with you.”

Steve choked back a sob. “Thanks, Hop.”

“Still can’t believe you’re dating that Munson kid,” he teased.

Steve pushed Hop way playfully. “Oh fuck off. He’s a good man.”

Hop looked over at him talking to Jonathan and Hal. “If he gets you to take care yourself or at least does it for you, he gets a pass from me.”

Steve blushed. “He takes care of me. It’s incredible how easy he makes it look.”

“I know your family was shit growing up,” Hop said. “But look at it now.”

Steve looked out at the fifteen-sixteen people out there lounging around the swimming pool with fondness.

“I always wanted a big family,” he said softly. “Who would have thought that all it would take is some extra-dimensional monsters to make it happen.”

Hopper chuckled. “I feel you kid. Before I started all this, I had lost my daughter to cancer and my wife to divorce. Now, not only do I have another daughter to take care of, I have a woman I love and her two boys that are like her sons to me.”

Steve made a grimace. “Does that mean Jonathan is my step-brother, because ew.”

“I heard that Harrington!” Jonathan called out.

Steve and Hopper laughed.

Eddie came bounding up to Steve. “I’m not sure I want the Chief as a father-in-law, babe.”

Steve smiled. “Oh that is going to make for some very awkward family dinners.

Percy came up behind Eddie.

“Hello, I’m Steve’s uncle, Percy,” he said extending his hand to Hopper to shake.

“Yeah,” Hopper said. “I’ve been hearing all about you. I’m sorry Clint Harrington kept you away from Steve for all this time.”

Percy nodded. “Jasper being an idiot didn’t help, unfortunately. But I’m in Steve’s life for good. There’s nothing that his parents could do that would change that.”

Steve gave Percy a hug in gratitude.

“Welcome to Hawkins then,” Hopper said with a smile. “It’s bit of a mess at the moment, but it’s home.”

“Well,” Percy said with a smile, “the welcome so far has been amazing I’m happy Steven has a support system now.” He turned to Steve. “May I pull you away for a moment. There’s something I would like to talk to you about.”

Steve looked at Hopper and Eddie who both shrugged. “Sure, lead the way.”

Percy went inside the kitchen and sat down at the counter. “When you told me that you didn’t get into the colleges and universities you applied for, I called around.”

Steve frowned. “Why? My grades slipped after Christmas my senior year. I ended at 2.76 GPA. I figured that wasn’t good enough to get in.”

“Yes,” Percy said. “If they only looked at your senior year. But they don’t. They look at a cumulative GPA from all your years at high school. You had a cumulative GPA of 3.16. Which is more than enough to get into any college you wanted. Especially with you still winning medals in swimming.”

His frown deepened. “But Dad said that I didn’t get into any of those schools.”

“Yes, which I thought was odd,” Percy further explained. “Which is why I called. Steven, you got accepted into two thirds of the schools you applied for.”

Steve leaned back. “What? That’s not possible.”

“I’m guessing Clint only showed you the one third you didn’t get into and told you the rest was the same.”

“Why?” he breathed. “Why would he do that?”

“Because the schools you got into weren’t the ones he wanted you to go to is my next guess.”

“I can go to college?” Steve asked, his lip quivering. “I don’t have to be stuck here my whole life?”

Percy shook his head. “You are a smart young man, and David and I are very committed to helping you get to where you want to go in life. Your parents mail have failed you, but I promise we won’t.”

Steve let out a shaky breath. “Thank you so much.”

Percy got up and hugged him. “Now go back out to your boy, he’ll be worried about you.”

Steve nodded and walked back out.

Percy followed close behind and wrapped his arm around David’s waist.

“You think they’re going to be okay?” David asked as they watch Steve and Eddie cling to each other.

“Oh yes,” Percy said. “It may have taken a tragedy to get them here, but they are smart boys with a great support system. There is nothing those boys can’t do now.”

“I’m happy to have met them,” David said.

“Me too.”

****

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @emly03 @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @vecnuthy @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @gutterflower77 @genderless-spoon @hel-spawn @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @mamafaithful @yikes-a-bee @dragonmama76 @flaming-reauxster @r0binscript @awkotaco24 @ilikeititspretty @5ammi90

[c-u-c-koo-4-40k]

The Silver Dragon Cometh - Part 1

Summary: Lullaby and Khopesh and their gaggle of Primaris friends/acquaintances are having a lovely picnic under the sun. The weather is warm, the food is filling, the conversation is surprisingly easy flowing. Lullaby even makes a few new close friends, and confides in them some struggle they're having with their powers. If Only things could remain so lovely...

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Where is all started! Here!

Warning: Social Anxiety, Fights, Injury, Cursing, Literally messing with people's heads, and what could technically be considered micro aggressions to go with the Macro aggressions.

Tags: This one is another collaboration with @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan! We've also got characters from @sleepyfan-blog and @kit-williams making an appearance. If you've contributed a character and I don't mention it here just DM me I'll fix that right up!

@bleedingichorhearts @beckyninja @bispecsual @passionofthesith @egrets-not-regrets @felinisnoctis

“Right,” Karlsor says, “try again, just like before.”

He holds out a hand, and like you've been doing for most of this session you hold out yours, a few inches above his. Parallel, not touching

“If it helps,” Karlsor says, “try to visualize the mycelium network stretching out their roots- like leaves of a plant extending to reach the sun.”

You try to do that. In recent trainings you had learned to Sense the slight difference when your powers were working. Feeling the flow so to speak, you could even tell when power was flowing out vs in. Sometimes, you could even see…Things very faintly when you absorbed enough energy. But it never lasted very long. 

And try as you might, you really weren't feeling any power flow one way or another, no matter how hard you visualized your little roots reaching up (or down in this case) to make contact with Karlsors hand. You could feel the Strain of trying to push them, and it was honestly starting to give you a bad headache. 

Karlsor meanwhile was using his warp sight, and feeling his own headache starting. He could see the mycelium tendrils reaching, but it seemed like a few inches was Lullaby's current limit as far as projection went for now. 

Part of him wanted to say Fuck it and touch the little roots so they'd relieve his headache. He hissed, patience patience…His head throbbed in vengeance and his sight wavered, spots of darkness flickering in and out.

Yeah fuck patience they'd been at this same fucking bullshit for over an hour and went from one inch to a Maybe two inch limit. Karlsor dimmed his warp sight with a gruff muttered “enough…Fuck damn shit this hurts.”

He heard you huff with disappointment before a warm small hand made contact with his and the pain and throbbing lessened. “Sorry Karlsor,” You murmur. 

“Eh, some training is harder to do than others,” Karlsor says, “Try and, ugh, meditate and think about stretching the network, without trying to use your powers. That might help?”

He sighs in relief, “Fuck I’m glad that your powers help. My headaches are a lot better now. Thanks.”

“No trouble,” You smile wryly. “You know as much as I do right now, Teach. I'll give it a shot. Besides, I'm glad I can at least do a few things consistently.”

“Consistency in what you can do, is really important,” Karlsor says seriously, “being able to do it more than once, means that it’s repeatable rather than just only being able to do something once. Scientific Method and all that grox-shite.”

“I Do appreciate the Scientific Method. But speaking of once in a while things…” You glance at the clock, “Would it be okay if we call today's session a little early?”

“I fuckin guess, but what for?” Karlsor asks. 

You smile, and start gathering your things. “Khopesh said Claude wanted me to meet some of the other Primaris Marines they know. So we're meeting at the park for a picnic!” You answer cheerfully. “There's apparently some new arrivals And I even baked and decorated a cake! Do you want me to save you a slice?”

You omitted the near mental breakdown you had trying to make the icing look nice. It was a fun process but you wanted to make a good impression. 

“Ah- I heard about them, one of them is a feral bastard of a Lamenter, and one of the other’s is another, ugh, Ultramarine.” Karlsor says- remember what Claude’s spoken of some of the newly arrived Primaris Marines. “A break’s a good idea- go on, have fun.”

“Pfft,” You snickered a bit at the shade Karlsor was throwing around. “Well as long as they like strawberry cake I'm sure it'll be fine. Thanks, Teach!“

“You’re welcome. Save me a slice, yeah?” Karlsor says. He likes cake. “If you can. Lamenters are very… soft with baselines.”

“Push meets shove I'll bake you your own cake, text me your flavor preferences!” You call back, and hit an eager run to the pantry. 

“Deal!” Karlsor perks up with a grin.

He texts you [Meyer Lemon and Raspberry] for his flavor preference.

You pass by Pyrus in the hallway who gives you a cheerful greeting. “Hello Lullaby!”

“Hi Pyrus gotta run!”

You pass by the med bay where apothecary Zariel is exiting a room. He happens to see you. “Ah Lullaby finished with your studies?”

“For today anyway, gotta go, there's a picnic with my name on it!”

Zariel laughs, “Very well, mind where you run.”

“I will!”

You come to the food pantry where you happen to see Zaarius examining the larder and taking stock. 

“Hello Zaar!” You greet him, clearly still bouncing with energy. “Is it still here?”

“Naturally dear,” He cooes, reaching to one of the high temperature controlled shelves. “One Strawberry cake with strawberry buttercream icing and Adorable vanilla buttercream rosettes. Unmolested…no matter how Badly certain individuals wanted to.”

You hear a familiar grumbling walking in with more items for the pantry. “I only said I wanted a Bit of the icing.” Khopesh grumbled, placing items on shelves with rapid speed even while he complained. 

Zaarius rolled his eyes. You trotted over to give your love a hug. (Carefully while still holding the cake.) “Hey Sweetness! You'll get to have some soon.” You reassure him with a kiss on the lips. “I'll make sure you get the first piece!”

Khopesh trademark purrs picked up as you embraced him. “That is acceptable.” He agrees then turns to Zaarius. “As promised all the items are unloaded and sorted.”

“Properly?” Zaarius asks pointedly, knowing younger marines penchants for slacking on work they deemed unimportant. 

Khopesh huffed with slight indignance. “Of course! What do you take me for a Space Wolf? Any Nightlord worth their pelts does Not mess around with Food.”

“And yet you wanted to snag a bit of my cake early?” You ask dryly. 

“Sorting and Storing food, not eating it dear Lullaby.” He explained with a flash of teeth. “When processing a carcass the most important factor is proper cutting, sorting, and preserving for the Purpose of eventual consumption. Or eventual leather work or scrimshawing in the case of skin and bones.”

Zaarius arches an eyebrow at him, “No, but young ones can get impatient and sloppy.”

Khopesh made a slightly dramatic gesture for Zaarius to examine his section. Which the Noise Marine did and actually gave a somewhat impressive hum. “Not bad, very well Khopesh, you are released until your next kitchen duty. Enjoy your outing.”

“Excellent!” Khopesh growls with vigor, before scooping you, and the cake up so you were riding in the crook of his elbow.

“Oop! H-hey!” You say with delighted laughter, and sling an arm over Khopesh's neck for better grip. “By Zaarius! See you around.” You call back as you are whisked away by your goofy Nightlord.

Zaarius chuckles and shakes his head at the two. Young love.

________________

Olly had brought some chocolate rocks- which were not rocks at all, but were chocolate with a crunchy candy coating as part of snacks for the picnic that he was invited along with. Ramiel and Cedric had done the lion’s share of the cooking, while the rest of them cleaned up and carried the picnic food stuffs, drinks and supplies.

Olly turned to one of his brothers, careful to approach while the other was not doing anything too consuming. In this case Claude laying out the blankets and cutlery.

“So…this baseline Khopesh is bringing…what are they like?” Olly asks.

Claude pauses for a moment. “Don't worry. They're very sweet.” He assures Olly. “And funny, and warm and reassuring.”

Jophiel gives Claude a sideways glance, but doesn't comment. Warm and reassuring? There's nothing warm and reassuring about being crawling with bizarre unknown (possibly heretical) psychery. 

Olly looks down to the chocolate rocks he'd brought with him. “Do you think they'll like the candy?” 

Kerubiel sneered a little, his arms crossed over his chest, still not certain why they needed to be interacting with a baseline human that wasn’t Bonded to a Night Lord, but somehow someone that they cared for. 

“Meet'in a new person won’t, likely hurt us,” Thressl noticed the look on his face and shoved an elbow into his side, “lighten up ya sour puss!”

If Kerubiel had actual fur it would've raised in hackles at that comment. “I am not a Sour Puss!” He hissed. 

Thressl smiled. “Sounds like somethin a sour puss would say.”

Kerubiel huffed. “I just don't understand why we're playing baby sitter to a soft handed, Soft Headed baseline.” He turned to get back to his proper task. 

Only to be met with Claude appearing Right in his face. The Dark Angel nearly jumped at having his space taken up so suddenly. His teal eyes were Deathly, serious. “Don't call them that. Unless you want me to tell Captain Ash'val you've had another ‘lapse in good sense.’”

Lion on the Hill what the Fuck?! Kerubiel had never seen Claude look so serious…and Much less threaten to rat him out to a First Born??

Still though! He wouldn't take it back, he just…wouldn't push the issue. “Fine…but only because it would be unbecoming as a son of the First.” He groused. “When are they supposed to be here anyway?!” He asked, trying to distract himself from Claude still Staring at him. 

He was three seconds from bapping Claude in the face, when a call came from up the path they'd taken. Claude rolled his shoulders and tilted his chin a little, his eyes flashing teal- ready to smack the shit out of his brother cousin if need be.

Claude did break from staring him down to swivel his head in the direction. All of the Primaris Marines hear someone coming over, and Claude relaxes, and smiles a little when he spots Khopesh and Lullaby

“We have arrived!” Khopesh called out to his gaggle of little brothers and cousins. 

“And we brought cake!” Your voice came after. “Hi Claude!” 

Claude happily approached you and Khopesh first, as you were set down on your own feet. You approached the short haired Primaris, and offered a hug, which Claude gladly accepted. He keeps half an eye on Kerubiel- just in case the other tries to smack him when he turns his back on the other.

The firm but affectionate squeeze lasted a perfect amount of time, as Khopesh then took his turn… He returns the gesture to you very gently, making sure to not use too much strength.

“C'mere you little Bird Fiend!” He growled playfully, snatching up Claude and lifting him a bit off the ground. 

Claude tilts his head back in a laugh, and hugs Khopesh back just as strongly.

“Ah brother this is a bit much!” Claude stated but didn't actually struggle. Khopesh did acquiesce to placing him down with a gentle thud! Followed by playfully ruffling his hair. 

“So! What is there to eat!? I've spent all morning around food I wasn't allowed to eat.” Khopesh says cheerfully, before taking several deep sniffs of the air. “OoOooh! Brawts from the Bakery run by that Templar. Yes!”

You notice a much…Taller fellow standing a bit awkwardly behind Claude. He has something in his hands. 

“Olly, Cousin! Come here!” Khopesh crows joyfully. “This is my Lullaby.” He introduces you and you give a small wave and a “Hello,”

“I've told you about them before.”

Olly has a look of realization. “Oh! Is this the human you said you wanted to place in a terreriu-

Khopesh cuts his adorable dense cousin off. “Ah Hey! What have you made now? More things that bubble and foam?”

Olly seems to shift a little in place. “Ah No Sorry…didn't have the time or supplies. I made chocolate rocks with candy shells and gems inside. I Hope they are to everyone's liking…”

You peak to see and indeed, that's what he's got in the box he carries. “They Look good! I can't wait to try one!”

“You can have one now if you like?” Olly says shyly as he approaches the pair of them. The colors of the chocolate are slightly off- made from natural (safe to consume for baselines and space marines) colors. Rather than that weird ‘food dye’ stuff that comes from uh… less natural stuff? Which tasted wretched he could taste Red 3, and it was. DISGUSTING. Yuck.

“If it's okay with you.” You agree holding the cake in one hand and your other one out. 

Olly smiled, and grabbed a piece of his candy (tamping down on the urge to spend minutes finding Just the right one), handing it to you. Although, he did pick one of the Best Looking and Smelling one. He had tasted tested- and had the others taste test them (and had a Baseline human- one who was Bonded to Hura, try them, just in case. Baseline humans had different tastes, different preferences, but sometimes Astartes made food that could be… odd to baseline human palates.)

You examine the candy, marveling at the color and the tiny bits of sugar gems. “It almost looks too good to eat! You made these?” You ask for a bite to see the cross section. 

There is a cross section of the blue colored chocolate jewel candy, the thin coating of candy is a nice blue, with dark chocolate with little ‘gems’ of crystalized sugar and bits of jam. A cross between a chocolate truffle and a jammy candy.

“Yes,” Olly says, then rambles on the process he had to go through in order to make the candies, the temperatures, the timing, the flavors and the combinations, and why he’d chosen the colors and flavors he had- he was able to ramble more when Kerubiel stomps over and shoves a sandwich in his mouth.

“Olly, shush!” Kerubiel says, “I doubt they care about you prattling on about candy making. Honestly, you need to learn to be quiet.”

“... Yes Keru,” Olly says, shuffling his feet and trying not to visibly wilt. 

OH! Oh No, This catty bitch did Not. “Actually! I Like hearing him talk about baking and candy making.” You huff. “And no I'm not just saying that to Spite you, though I do enjoy doing that.” You aim pointedly at the…familiar Dark Angel. 

You turn a much kinder gaze onto Olly. “I'd be a big hypocrite if I didn't like candy making. I got my bachelors in chemistry after all, they say chefs are born in the kitchen. Chemists, are born in the bakery…candy store in this case but you get what I mean.”

It is Now Kerubiel fully recognizes both the Night Lord and the Baseline human. Oh no. Not them. Again. Claude as does Thressl, and they both notice the way that Kerubiel reacts to them and they look at each other and then at Kerubiel and are on either side of him, and wait for the scolding to end.

“What did you do?” Thressl asks Kerubiel, a shit eating grin on his face.

“When did you meet Lullaby and Khopesh?” Claude asks.

“And how badly did you piss them off?” Cedric asks, with a disappointed sigh. Kerubiel was great at a lot of things, socializing was not one of them. And he was shit at socialization at times. The Dark Angel just groans at the indignity of the memory, and his subsequent punishment.

“It's fascinating how just a change in temperature can Completely alter the resulting structure of the final product! I mean take caramel for example!” You posit. “Bless my mother she tried to make me a caramel syrup when we were out of the regular kind one morning, but the temperature was off and we ended up with caramel drops that were like Cement on our French toast. Couldn't even eat it, because it hurt our teeth. And getting it off the plates was a Nightmare.”

“It’s a lot of fun!” Olly says, after finishing the Surprise Bite of the sandwich, that Kerubie had shoved it into his face, and pulled the rest of it out of his mouth.

“Khopesh also said something about bubbling and foaming? Do you make other things besides candy?”

Olly nodded. “I have made Marble soda before, using marble pieces and the base facilities. I was told it was quite enjoyable.”

You balked for a moment. “Wait! You actually made soda out of rock? How??”  Then your chemist brain caught up. “Marble has Calcium Carbonate! You actually used the calcium carbonate in the marble to make the Carbon Dioxide for the soda water? That's amazing!”

“Yes- it was a lot of fun to figure out how to make- and the experiments were still edible- uh, by Astartes standards, anyways.” Olly says, with a big grin on his face as his eyes sparkled. He didn’t have the patience to be a fully trained Chemist- trying to understand the different symbols and whatever the fuck a neutron is and why the different numbers matter hurt his brain. The teacher-brother had said that “you asked the right questions, but can’t seem to do the math, I think you’re better off staying a battle brother, little one.”

“What acid did you use? Or what source?” You ask excitedly. “Or I guess boiling or heating would allow for thermal decay which would also release CO2. One moment.” You place the cake down on the picnic table and pick up a Stick and your phone. 

“There are acids that can be used? Source? I did the boiling and heating method,” Olly replied.

“Source as in what food ingredient. For example, vinegar has acetic acid or lemon juice has citric acid. But you did the thermal option so in that case…” You reference your phone and drawn 

         CaCO3 — Heat –-> CaO + CO2 

“In simple terms you took this starting ingredient or Reagent, and applied heat until it broke apart into Calcium Oxide and Carbon Dioxide, notice how the same number and types of symbols appear on both sides, they've just been rearranged. When you were heating a white powder was left behind and discarded, that is the Calcium Oxide. The other is the gas you used to infuse the soda. So your not human safe products likely had too much Calcium Oxide.” You declare. “Which would have made them more bitter and well…poisonous.”

You break from your rambling, realizing you got a bit Too excited. “I Really like chemistry…sorry.”

“Oh no! You misunderstand.” Olly reassures you. “You are correct that the ones that were not baseline safe Did have a much more bitter taste- and activated the anti-poison glands.” Olly says. “Um- Zaarius was happy to take the Calcium Oxide off my hands for… some… thing? Huh… I probably should have asked the Chaos Chemist what he wanted with the by product, yeah? Hm. But well- at least he has a use for it… whatever it was.”

“Maybe he's making Cement or blowing shit up.” You say, mostly joking…mostly. “Calcium Oxide, also known as Quick Lime, is Caustic and reacts with water.”

“Ah, oh dear,” Olly says, “Cement is the friendlier option. I don’t think that Hura would allow him to blow up the Rot Bone Base. Uh- maybe let Anrir know?”

He had looked towards Khopesh and Claude at that. He hadn’t known that white powdery stuff could be used to make concrete, or into an explosive. But- it made sense why the Chaos Marine would want it. And why he’d paid so well for the powder, once he knew what it had come from. Oh bother.

There are some stumbling, scuffling noises- and a space marine, of similar size to the primaris in badly damaged yellow-gold armor looking armor with red accents and with a black and white checker-marked pauldron with a bleeding heart in the middle. 

Nanael comes over, “Sorry I’m late! I got - uh- waylaid- oh no. Am I too late?” He had brought some of the last minute items that they had run out of - and had been sent off to go get and was back. “I got the stuff…”

“Welcome,” you pipe up cheerfully. “We've got cake and food and some damn fine candy rocks so even if you've come by accident you should still snag some.” You say jokingly. 

The newcomer perks up at your greeting. “It’s nice to meet you- uh? I go by Nanael, what’s your name?”

Nanael blinks down at you then over at Khopesh and tries not to growl at the Night Lord. Shifting closer and setting the stuff down. “Thanks for getting it Nanael,” Cedric says. “This is Lullaby, and the Night Lord is Khopesh. He’s one of Claude’s Claw.”

“Nice to meet you Lullaby,” Nanael says to you. He looks over at Khopesh, a calculating gaze in his blue-red eyes. “... I’m glad to meet a couple of people that Claude cares for so much. I have heard some. Interesting things. About both of you. Good things.”

“Awwww! Claude, you been talking sweet about me behind my back?!” You ask with glee, “I'd honestly say there's no better compliment than someone speaking well of you, even when you're not there.”

“Well Yeah,” Claude says, “you’re pretty cool. And some- uh- some of us haven’t really met many baseline humans before coming to Ancient Terra in non-combat situations before.”

You notice Jophiel looking…unsure when Claude says that. You decide to pivot the subject a bit.

“I am curious…how many battles has each of you seen? Like I know ya'll are all different ages From different ages, so who's got technically the Most experience out of all of you?” You ask, gesturing to the circle of space marines around you. 

A beat passes, and for a moment you feel the creeping dread of having committed a social faux paus crawling up your back and stirring in your gut. Cedric is not thinking about the fact that, due to the standards of certain eras, that Jophiel would be considered a Neophyte, not a Scout. He is so desperately not thinking about that.

Only for Khopesh to pipe up. “Well obviously it's me. I'm the oldest here!” He states confidently. 

“That is most likely true,” The Primaris say with varying levels of grace.

“How old are you?” Jophiel asks Khopesh. “I know that all of us have at least fought in… one battle- many of us multiple even!”

Your Nightlord seems to pause, thinking it over. “Hmm…you know what? I forgot!” He says simply eating another bite of brawt with a smile. 

“HUH!? How do you not know how old you are!?” You ask incredulously. 

Khopesh shrugs. “Never bothered to count. After I passed the trials, and became a full fledged Nightlord everything from before got pretty fuzzy.” He says, still eating. “Regardless, as a representative of the 30th millenia I am Confident I've got the most battle experience.”

“Well…true, but battle experience isn't Everything.” Thressel hummed, a glittering mischief in his eyes. 

Khopesh regarded the Primaris coolly, but with interest. “Is that so?”

“Aye! What do you say to a little…competition? Friendly match.”

Khopesh smiled and you suppressed a groan. “Right here right now? Don't tease me Scout, you don't play with a Nightlord when it comes to challenges.”

“You're on!” Thressel howls with excitement, literally, and bolts off into the more open part of the field. “Oi! Old timer! You gonna move those creaking bones or am I gonna have to wait for the 30th millenia to come again!?”

Cedric shakes his head, before standing. “Honestly,” He grumbles, then calls to the eager Space Wolf. “HOLD On If we're going to do this, we're going to do this the Right way.”

Khopesh stands, then dips back down to plant a kiss on your lips. “For luck! Watch me win my darling!” He bolts after, and the other Primaris turn to watch or gather near their brethren. Seems a small tournament is going to be held. 

Surprisingly, it's just you and Olly left by the picnic blankets while the others set up, and discuss rules. Things are peaceful, steady, if still a Little awkward with most of your mutual group out on the field. 

“So…” Olly posits. “How has your training with Claude and Karlsor been going?”

(!) “Uh…what do you mean?” You ask, trying to hide your underlying nerves. Does Olly mean…? No, no he couldn't Possibly. Why would he have been told-

“It's okay, Claude has nightmares occasionally and ah…he sometimes talks in his sleep.” Olly explained sheepishly 

Fuck. 

“So wait…you know about…the Thing?” You ask carefully, trying to keep your voice down. Olly nodded. 

“You have some gifts that need training and to keep quiet about it,” Olly says, “I won’t tell anyone else- and Claude doesn’t know that I heard his nightmare-mumbling- and kept him from telling others. If you wanna talk about it with me you can.”

You glance at the others in the field. “Are they far enough away? They can't hear us.” Olly nods again. 

You take a deep breath. “Well I'm not…unhappy. But I'm also…frustrated.” You explain, still keeping your voice down. “In theory I Should be able to project my gift further, so I can use it Without needing to touch things.”

“I've learned how to intentionally move psychic energy from one space marine to another. I've even learned to make it go the Opposite direction it would naturally flow. It's like walking against the flow of a stream but I can do it…”

“But no matter how hard I push, I can't seem to make the…roots of my power don't go out further than a couple of inches…” You say, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly. 

“And…though it's unrelated, I can feel Jophie still isn't comfortable with me being here…” You say, with a little more sadness coming into your voice. “I guess part of me hopes if I can learn and Do more…he and others wouldn't be so afraid. I know that's silly, people are going to fear, it's their choice what they do with that fear. Still…kinda stings though.”

Olly hums for a moment, thinking over what you've just told him. He pulls out a candy rock and hands it to you, before taking one for himself and beginning to chew on it. 

“I don't know what to tell you about Jophiel…but for your Gift Perhaps…” Olly posits as he eats. “If your gift takes the form of Roots, maybe it doesn't want to travel in the air. Maybe it would prefer to travel through the ground?” He offers. 

You both sit there for a moment. Olly seems to think the pause is awkward and coughs a bit. “Ah sorry, that's a silly idea isn't it…”

“No, I think it makes a bizarre amount of sense and I'm…kinda surprised I hadn't thought about that.” You reassure him. You place your hand to the ground between the two of you. “I can't see it normally, but tell me if you Feel something…” You ask him. 

Olly looks confused. “Alright…what am I meant to feel?” 

You push on your power, taking hold of that subtle thread as you'd been trained to do. “Claude says it feels like…”

“Calm…” You glance up at Olly, who's now looking down at you with…well Wonder. “It feels calming…soothing…like a comforting hand on the shoulder but…in the heart.”

You smile widely. “Hang on Olly! Let me back up.” You scramble back a few steps then place your hands down again. “Ready?”

Olly nods and again, you push. It takes a moment, but Olly holds up his thumb when he feels the power connect. You feel the connection too. It's subtle but it's there. Olly grins a little- happy to be able to help, he doesn’t know much about Psykery, but he’s heard his Psyker touched brothers talk about it, part of sounds like it’s about finding the …resonance of things? 

Or something like that. Like with Psyhicic lightning- it’s like normal lightning, it wants to go down with the least resistance, so learning to not fight that and to direct and ground it so to speak is one of the major stumbling blocks- or so he’s heard the others complain about when he’s heard them talk about it. 

So he’s glad his idea about the roots wanting to be in the soil and loam, rather than in the air, is more than just a silly idea. Perhaps once they are more trained- and have a better idea of what they can do they’ll be able to push their roots through the air more? Sometimes that’s the case, sometimes it isn’t.

“What if I move?” Olly calls out to you- and then sends a vox text message that shows up on your phone. [Let’s see how far the reach of your root network is. I’ll back up a few steps.]

You give a thumbs up and the Ultramarine scrambles much like you had, just in the opposite direction. The others are still completely taken up with their sparring. Olly nods, and continues to move.

After counting his steps he sends another text message [I’m going to climb a tree and see if the Effect is still in place.]

After that he starts to climb- getting onto a supportive branch. You can just Barely see a bit of blue in the tree line, so you Push in that direction.

It's hard, but you feel a difference when you Assume your roots reach past the trees. You text Olly with one hand. [Can you feel it?]

No response comes for a moment, as you strain to make your roots Reach to their new maximum. But before Olly can respond you feel…something else. 

(!)You- you lose focus, and stop pushing causing the power to dissipate. You…you could've Sworn you felt…a Tap?

It was like something reached out to your roots and literally…poked them?? But that's not possible, the only one in the trees is Olly and he hadn't mentioned being able to do that?

Suddenly, your stomach feels…uneasy. You place your hand to the ground and push again, past the trees, past Olly on his branch. 

You pay closer attention. You feel the connection to Olly, same as you had before but there was…something that didn't feel like Olly, it didn't even feel like Claude or Karlsor or Xerxes or Dölgöön or any other psycher you'd touched it felt…

Dangerous. 

Draco had been walking through the forest- when he’d felt something strange- he had felt a light psychic energy. It wasn’t one that he recognized- so he’d crouched down and put his armored hand to the ground. He lightly reaches out his senses and pokes at the… whatever it is.

‘I wonder what that is?’ Draco thinks to himself. His brow furrows as he stretches out his senses to try and find the source of the strange weak psychic presence. It’s drowned out by some far brighter- and some far more familiar psychic presences- and some new ones as well.

Ah…the Scoutlings…and Other Scoutlings. Draco straightens back up to his full height. 

[Come to me.] Draco commands Jophiel and Claude- not only them, but to Thressl, Kerubiel and the very untrained Nanael.

Nanael- unaware of his nascent Psyker powers, that comes with his Perpetual state collapses to the ground clutching his head as his nose bleeds. “W-wh-what the fuck is this?!”

Jophiel, Claude, and Thressl all sway and groan clutching their heads and swear. “Fuck- it’s that silver bastard again.” Claude groans out.

Kerubiel hisses like an angry cat and clutches his head- he refuses to collapse- the way the other’s are. He’s a Son of the First- he’s better than that. The booming voice- has no Power of Him!

���GET OUT OF MY HEAD!” Thressl bellows out loud and with his Psykery. Damned witch- trying to take his mind- Out- OUT. GET OUT!

You whip your head back to the sparring matches at Thressel's pained howl. It's not just him though; Claude, Thressel, Nanael, and Kerubiel are all doubled over. Cedric, Ramiel and Khopesh are frantically trying to get the Scouts to Tell them what's wrong!

“Silver bastard,” Claude manages to choke out to Khopesh. Fuck his vision is going strange.

“BAH! ENOUGH! FACE US COWARD!” Kerubiel snarls, you notice he turns a certain direction so you do as well. Something moves just beyond the tree line and your eyes are met with a reflective Flash.

Your heart Sinks into the acid churning your stomach into nausea. 

no…No…NONONONONONONONO! You tremble, you shake, your legs lock up and you find yourself unable to move. 

Time seems to slow, and what fills your ears becomes muffled. 

A bright flash in the trees…

Reflections of glimmering gold armor…

NoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONO-

It's only when Khopesh's voice breaks through the haze that you come back to the present. “Silver Witch! Get your disgusting slimy mind bastardry Out of My Scouts Heads!” 

Wait…Silver? And that's when you see the true face of the current threat stride into the clearing where you'd all had your picnic. 

It's not an insurmountable monster in gold, but an unfamiliar and smaller Goliath in silver. Another Space Marine?

“Enough foolishness!” The silver space marine bellows again, and you see the way the psycher scouts tremble; grasping their skulls like something is ringing inside them. “Stand aside Bratlings, and I will make yours and your cousins discipline Merciful.”

Khopesh sets himself into position, alongside Ramiel and Cedric. They form a defensive wall between the afflicted Primaris, and the silver Goliath. 

Olly is Carefully hopping from tree to tree to get closer to The Asshole Witch in Silver. He heard about this asshole being here- and now from the others. Had seen some of his ilk take his Psyker brothers away. Some returned, some didn’t. Not again- he’s not going to let one of them take his brothers or cousins away!

You hear Khopesh respond, “It is You who will need Mercy, Silver Witch. But you will find it sorely lacking from us!”

Cedric's voice is lower, but were you to hear it you'd feel your bones ice over at the murderous tone coming out of the Marine you knew as a kind young apothecary. Who liked hugs but felt awkward about asking for them. 

“You wouldn't be the first body I've buried,” Cedric assures the Silver Witch. “Nor the first psycher to meet that fate, Any who threaten my brothers will be shown the same end.”

Ramiel, doesn't speak, his mind is pure focus, following and complementing the formation of his two other brothers. They are outmatched, and forced to defend, but they will give it their All.

A beat passes then…

The Silver Goliath becomes a blur, when your eyes can catch him again he has caught Rami with a blow, but the young Templar holds as firm as he can. It still causes him to skid back, leaving trenches in the earth. 

Cedric and Khopesh counter, setting upon the Silver Marine. Dealing with two opponents doesn't seem to phase him terribly, he bats away their strikes. 

For a moment it seems Khopesh has left him an opening, striking with his Lightning Claw his raised arm is a hazard. The Silver Knight moves to Capitalize!

Only for Khopesh to feint, turning both claws to catch the swinging blade, one sinking Into the Grey Knight's ceramite gauntlet. Like Ramiel he's pushed back a bit leaving short curved trenches, Cedric attacks the Goliath’s other side, covering and taking advantage of Khopesh momentarily stopping the sword blow.  

Only for the Silver Marine to raise his non-sword hand and set off a Blast of crackling silver Lightning, pushing Cedric back who is caught by Ramiel.   

“CEDRIC!” You scream in horror seeing the apothecary sporting soot marks and smokestacks on the armor he's wearing. 

“AGRh!” You turn back, seeing the Silver Bastard. Khopesh managed to pull one of his claws free and Sink it into the Bastards side while the fucker was busy frying Cedric. 

“VILE GUTTER RAT!” Draco bellows indignantly.  

Khopesh smiles with his full sharp teeth before he uses his claws to pull himself close and Slam the bastard for a jumping headbutt. It causes the Goliath to stagger, not expecting such an undisciplined move, but that's all Khopesh needs. He wrenches his stabbing lightning Claw free, and ferociously repeats the action, while the Other claw is still awkwardly impaling the bastard's hand, keeping them joined. 

And making the squirmy bastard Very hard to Hit! Draco thinks. As the Nightlord stays aggravatingly close, too close for punches or kicks to make impact. 

Meanwhile, Cedric only pauses for a moment to set back on his feet, before he lunges back into the fray alongside Ramiel. They capitalize on Khopesh being essentially attached to the Grey Knight: flanking their tormentor, and attacking his sides. 

The Grey Knight Is having a little more trouble batting aside these blows with the added weight of a Nightlord slowing his movements, And the bratlings, coming from his 3 and 9. Annoying little wretches! They want him to get mean? Fine!! He will get mean. 

You watch with hope as it seems your Space Marines are doing it! They're forcing him back! 

Until you see another crackling light, appear. Your heart jumps into your throat. “Watch Ou-!” You cry, but it's too late. 

A shock wave of silver lightning Blasts in a ring around the Goliath, knocking the attacking Space Marines down and back. This time they can't seem to get up as easily, and remnant sparks fizzle over their armor. 

“NO!” You cry out. This…this is your Nightmare! 

Weak, Pathetic, Not even worth a backwards glanc- Shut Up! There must be Something you can do! But it will mean...

Everyone with Know.

If the Silver Monster hears you he pays you no mind. Instead he flexes the fingers of his impaled hand, fucking casually. The psycher blast seems to have tired him a bit, but he's no where near going down.

He strides past the Space Marines he's just incapacitated, perhaps the shock has locked up their armor? They're still alive, at least you think (please be alive please still be alive Please Please Please!)

He's making his way to the Scouts, still incapacitated themselves, but they try…God they try to stand and fight. 

“We…we won't! We won't go with you!” Claude hisses. 

Though it strains him Draco uses his psychic voice. [Silence!] He says, forcing the defiant Scout to Bow. 

“That's better…Enough of your defiance. Obedience is what is expected of you. Now ACT LIKE I-!” He reinforces the next shout so it hurts more. All the Scouts tremble but he's cut off by a sudden Crashing weight!

“FOR MACRAGGE!” A voice bellows and the awful sound of Ceremite on Ceremite Screeches through the clearing! 

Draco is dumbfounded for a moment, only to find arms in Blue Ceramite wrapped around his midsection, pinning his arms and SQUEEZING. The strength is actually making it hard to breath, and denting the ceremite around his waist.

Draco glances behind and sees another unfamiliar face, another Scout, but Clearly not a psycher.…A shame, he must have guts or be Severely stupid. But the guts would be beneficial to a user of the psychic arts. 

As it stands though this Scout is just another Waste of his Time. Draco focuses his psychery into his core, and releases another Blast.

You watch in horror as Olly, sweet wonderful Olly is also Blasted back like your Khopesh…Like Ramiel…Like Cedric…

His body lays limp with the crackle of psychic lightning just like the others.

No…No…NO!

You slam your hands to the ground and you Push! You know this could mean your secret getting out, and you don't even know if you can soak up power like this but you're going to fucking try! You push your power to reach your Space Marines, to reach the Silver Bastard, you push to the fucking Limit!

And when you try…you finally See.