#i have ALWAYS had trouble sleeping ever since i was little and if some cheap over the counter supplements will help I'm Going To Take Them

[grayve-mistake]

"Ohh you take melatonin? Be careful, if you take it too often you'll become dependent, you won't be able to sleep without it..."

Hey.

Psst. Yeah. Hey,

Come closer?

Lil closer..?

...

.......

📢 I COULDN'T SLEEP WITHOUT IT ANYWAY THAT'S WHY I'M TAKING A SLEEP HORMONE YOU BUFFOON

[mariabtsos]

Never Ending ||m.yg||

Description: wasn't Yoongi the one that was supposed to give you flowers for no reason?

Genre: One-shot, Yoongi x f!reader, established relationship, fluff, Yoongi is literally the sweetest man alive (wbk)

WARNINGS: None, this idea came after seeing this really sweet like reddit post, it will be at the end of this post.

Word Count: 2.6k+

Ever since coming back from service, BTS’ comeback preparations had been nonstop. It was almost like their debut days, they started early and ended late, whether they were practicing the choreography for a new song or recording their parts again, or getting back into recording RUN BTS.

You and Yoongi had seen very little of each other, working almost opposite schedules with a Saturday or Sunday off sprinkled in where you would mostly sleep and catch up on what you had going on so far, having those little moments made all the time you missed him worth it, you loved them, it was how you were able to build your relationship in the first place.

You and him met when your best friend practically begged for you to come with her to a double date. Yoongi was the one you were paired with, and you connected almost instantly. You had so much in common, more specifically your mutual love for music and the art behind it, you had small dates where he would take you to his small studio space, he'd told you he was a trainee, and that he was set to debut soon with the guy your friend was on a date with.

A year later, the guy your friend dated didn't debut, but Yoongi did, and that's when the small gestures started, you were at every music show that you could be at, bought every album, and went to every showcase or small gig you could afford. Yoongi showed his gratitude in small ways, he would get you a single rose, or a small cheap necklace, or if he wanted to really treat you he'd save up and take you to a nice restaurant. And as his success grew he was able to give you more, although he wasn't one for extravagant gifts, he always gave you something that made you feel special.

Even whilst he was serving, at the end of each week when he came home he'd bring you flowers and your favorite food, you had never felt more loved.

And now that he was back, you wanted to show him just as much gratitude. He was working so hard to make their first comeback grandiose, and even if he was exhausted, he'd spend his days off spending his time with you only sleeping if you were accompanying him.

You decided to do something simple, you found a flower shop that did the most beautiful arrangements and you called, setting something up that you imagined Yoongi would like; they even gave you the choice to add some fruits, and what better for your boyfriend than to give him the absolute love of his life, tangerines. You hoped this would help him relax a bit, and feel your support even if you didn’t see each other much.

“Okay guys, why don’t you take five, hmm?” Sungdeuk announced to the room, the seven men and their backup dancers immediately heading for water or laying flat on the floor, the latter was Yoongi’s case.

“I said it in 2013 and I’ll say it again, I was told we would only rap, not dance,” Yoongi’s breathing was heavy as he spoke, causing his hyung and Jungkook who were laying on the floor to laugh. “This is good for you hyungs, at your old age you need to exercise to keep your joints healthy,” the maknae giggled, followed by chuckles and laughter around the room from their members and some of the dancers.

“Yah!” Jin yelled as he smacked Jungkook in the back of the neck.

“Yoongi-ssi!” he sat up as he heard their manager’s voice from the practice room door, “come to my office please,” Yoongi nodded, carefully standing up from his spot on the floor, softly kicking Jungkook after he loudly announced he was in trouble.

Yoongi giggled at the the whole thing, his mind slowly making his way back to you, he didn’t have to record anything today, maybe he’d go to his studio later and call you, yeah, that’s what he would do, they were told they wouldn’t be here till midnight today, and that they could sleep in tomorrow before they had to do some photoshoots for their upcoming album, so that meant he could get home before you did and make you dinner. You worked as a nurse, and unfortunately had been assigned 12-hour shifts the past couple of months; going into work at noon and getting out at midnight, by the time you got home and ready for bed, Yoongi would arrive, exhausted, but he still would want to at least have small conversation, your relationship was built with communication, and he wasn’t one to disregard it.

He met the man at the door and followed him to the elevator, reaching the floor where the offices were, they made it to his quickly, where Yoongi’s eyes almost popped out of his sockets when he noticed a medium-sized vase with a beautiful arrangement of flowers and small basket of tangerines. A little white piece of paper stuck out in the middle of all the flowers, Yoongi opened and he smiled so wide.

From Yn, just because. I love you ♡

“As you can tell, they are for you,” the manager chuckled humorously, “you better not fuck it up with her Yoongi-ssi,” he said candidly.

“I haven’t fucked up in 10 years, I don’t plan on starting now,” he kept re-reading your note, he thought your handwriting was beautiful, even when you didn’t.

When he made it back to the practice room with his flowers and tangerines his members immediately started teasing him, especially Jungkook. “Look at our hyung with his flowers! And they say chivalry is dead,” he would say, “yeah hyung, I thought you’re the one that’s meant to get her flowers?” Taehyung added, grabbing him by shoulders and ruffling his hair.

“Yah! Stop it, Ynie is sweet for doing this, don’t see how Yoongi hyung’s face is about to split into two?” Namjoon pointed out smiling, his dimples showing proudly.��

They had lived together for 13 years after all, all Namjoon wanted was for his hyung to be happy, and the fact that you did that for him had his heart swelling with warmth. You were so good for Yoongi.

“I need you guys to talk me off of running to the jewelry store and getting her a ring,” the room went silent.

“You don’t have one already?!” Hobi piped up, smacking his shoulder, his good shoulder. Yoongi shook his head.

The guys look at each other, and then at Sungdeuk, “I don’t think no one’s going to talk you off of it Yoongi-ah, in fact, I think everyone should take the rest of the afternoon off,” he announced loudly, “you six, please help him set up,” he asked the other members who immediately pulled the cat-eyed man, grabbing all their stuff, including the flowers and tangerines, and headed out to prepare.

It was 8pm

They had made it to the jeweler just in time, they were lucky he owed Jimin a favor, otherwise Yoongi would’ve had to wait, and he sincerely didn’t think he could.

You guys had started talking more seriously about marriage about 5 years into your relationship, mainly because you had started to feel scared that with idol life, Yoongi would enjoy not being entirely tied down to a person. Thankfully that wasn't the case, and he'd promised you, when the time was right, he would get down on one knee.

He wasn't sure why it took him 10 years to come through with that promise.

Yoongi was grateful for your late nights of conversation after that, every so often you would have little YouTube marathons that would start with alcohol reviews and end in proposals, and he had remembered every comment you made about those rings, he’d also remembered the comments you’d made when one of your friends got engaged. He was able to find a beautiful ring, something he knew you’d like. His members helped get all the materials he needed, as they rushed to your shared apartment and started decorating the place, Yoongi and Jin cooked whilst the rest added finishing touches, at some point Jungkook went and got his camera, stating he’d be the one to stay so he could capture the moment.

Yoongi could complain about the maknae all he wanted, but there was no one as loyal and dedicated to his friends as him.

It was 11:30pm when they were finished, Jungkook and Yoongi were saying goodbye to the others as they made their way into the car they would have to share back to the HYBE building so they could get their own vehicles, they had all ran around in Yoongi’s car, a medium-sized SUV that barely fit all of them, but they managed.

“I call shotgun! I deserve it after going in hyung’s trunk,” Jimin ran after he had said his goodbyes, with Taehyung following closely behind as he whined about him getting shotgun, the rest walked away at a normal pace, not eager to deal with the soulmates and the game of rock-paper-scissors that they would certainly be playing.

Yoongi was pacing around, it was 12:48am now, you’d be home any minute now, Jungkook had hid behind the black sectional in your living room, thankful you had left some space between it and your wall due to the heating system. Yoongi started serving dinner, he’d kept it as warm as he could so that you could enjoy a warm meal before he asked what he believed to be one of the most important questions of your lives.

He heard the digital ping of you punching in the door code and he knew there was no backing out now.

You opened the door to find your house lit by small candles, your dining room table set up with your good plate set, and the flowers you had sent Yoongi as a centerpiece.

“Hi baby,” Yoongi smiled widely as approached you, kissing your lips softly, as if he was savoring you, “hey,” you sighed as he pulled away, as always he took your breath away, “did I miss an important day? Our anniversary has already passed, hasn't it?” you went through the different options nervously, and Yoongi could only chuckle at your silly concerns.

“No baby, I just wanted to thank you for the flowers,” he explained, taking your jacket off and grabbing your bag, putting them both away. You took off your shoes and slipped on your home one on, walking hand in hand with your boyfriend.

He pulled a chair out for you, you whispered a thank you and sat down; Yoongi left a kiss on your hair and went to sit down himself. He’d cooked your favorite meal, you both started eating, it was a comfortable silence at first, which you broke when Yoongi sat up to clean your dishes after you were both done. “How early did they let you all out for you to have pulled this off?” you asked him, supporting your chin on your fist as you watched him.

“Maybe…8:30?”

Your mouth dropped, he’d invested this much time to thank you for something so simple like flowers? You truly didn’t deserve him. Once he was done, he scrolled through his phone a bit, selecting one of the songs on the 3rd CD of Proof, he walked toward you and held out his hand, you recognized “Quotation Mark” almost immediately.

“We’re planning on making it a full group song,” Yoongi explained as he spun you around, making you giggle, how he wished to hear that sound forever.

And maybe, after tonight he would.

He danced around you, because truly they were planning on making it an OT7 song, and there was this bit of the choreo he had added for the purpose of what his plans were tonight. He truly hoped Jungkook was recording this, if you said yes like he hoped you would, he wanted to rewatch this every day until you were married, and eventually show it to your children. Here it came, the part that he’d be taking over once the song was done, the first half of Hobi’s rap was perfect for this. 

“...Today, I make sure to throw my heart to you first, a safe landing with you, the catcher,” He got down one knee, pulling out the small velvety box from his pocket, you hands immediately covering your nose and mouth in shock, your eyes filled with tears as the song went on, Yoongi had stopped after he found himself tearing up.

“I’ve always known you were the one for me, you’ve been with me when I was nobody and when success came, you kept me humble, you kept my feet on the ground whilst being one of my biggest support systems. I told you when the time came, I’d get down on one knee, and your kind gesture today was what tied it all together for me, I don’t care if people think it’s not that big of a deal, it was to me.” your chuckled mixed with your sobs, “I want to be able to hear you giggle every day, and selfish as it maybe, I want you to be mine forever, would you marry me, Ynie?” the words left his mouth miraculously, as he was fully sobbing now.

Did your small gesture truly lead him to such a big decision? To join your lives as one was something you had dreamed of for a while, hell recently you’d had a dream of yourself and Yoongi dancing in what felt like cloud, with a beautiful white dress and him in one of those suits that made him look like absolute prince, you could only assume you dreamt of your wedding day.

“Baby my heart’s about to fall out of my ass please say yes,” he chuckled nervously, bringing you out of your thoughts. Poor guy, he’s probably watching you watch him and he’s thinking the worst.

“I’d like nothing more,” you thought Yoongi’s face would split in two, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in for a tight hug “and I promise to send you pretty flowers and tangerines every chance I get, for the rest of our lives,” you whispered. Yoongi couldn’t help himself, pulling away slightly so he could give you the kiss of a lifetime, he knew how much you love his lips.

“She didn’t say no hyungs!” You heard Jungkook’s distinct giggle and muffled cheers.

“You FaceTimed them?!” Yoongi whined, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. His dongsaeng walked out of his hiding spot, camera in one hand phone on another hand, “I thought you were recording with it!”

“I was recording with my Samsung, you know when you post this video they’ll want to see that,” the younger rolled his eyes, bringing the camera over so you could see the pictures.

“I wish I wasn’t wearing scrubs for this,” you complained, thanking your lucky stars there was no puking or excess of blood spilled on you tonight.

“You could’ve worn a burlap sack and Yoongi hyung would still think you’re the most gorgeous person alive noona,” Jungkook laughed, causing your fiancé to blush intensely. And between the guys congratulating you and Yoongi actually putting the ring on your finger, it really hit you that he was now your fiancé, and that your biggest dream had come true.

Your life would have a never ending amount of love, laughter and chaos, and you wouldn’t want anything else when it came to Yoongi.

A/N:

Hello! Sorry this took so long to get to you! I had a plan for this and when I saw this particular like reddit story thing I just NEEDED to do it with Yoongi. I hope y'all like it!

[zqmbiescorpse]

THE MORNING AFTER THE LAST

lottie matthews x female reader

a/n: i used the word 'homosexual' once and every time i see it i giggle a bit, so if it feels out of place for you it felt out of place for me too lmao

summary: you and lottie have always been suspiciously close for best friends. one night at a party, the feelings finally surface. the only thing left to complicate the situation is a plane crash and a possession.

warnings: alcohol, smoking, brief mentions of homophobia, kissing, sexual tension, suggestive themes, possession, minor depictions of violence (like once i think)

word count: 5.6k

(masterlist)

Your head pounded rhythmically, in time with the pulsating music blaring all around you; the consequence of partying in the middle of nowhere with an abundance of alcohol. By some miracle, you and your team had made it to nationals and were due to fly to Seattle the following morning, so naturally, every member of the Yellowjackets could be found here, either drunk or high - in hindsight, it was not the best idea, but you were teenagers, a lame excuse for the fact that you'd get up to some stupid shit. 

If you'd had a mind of your own and had refused to succumb to the pressures of high school, you would most likely be at home now, snuggled up in the warm comfort of your own bed, attempting to fall asleep since tomorrow was going to be very busy for you. Without a doubt, as much sleep as possible would have prepared you for the day, even if you were kept awake for a little while due to an overwhelming anxiety and excitement gathering in the pit of your stomach, like butterflies were congregating to flutter around down there. 

However, you were currently standing propped up against someone's car. You didn't know whose it was, just that it was oddly parked in the middle of the party, surrounded by towering trees and irresponsible youth. Either way, it provided you with something to lean on, eliminating the need to hold yourself up while you slumped against it - red plastic cup in hand, you occasionally sipped the cheap alcohol, the flavour reminiscent of metal, bitter and sour, burning the back of your throat as you slowly swallowed it until there was nothing left. 

Why were you here then? You'd find yourself pondering that question every other moment of the night, each time, your brain would trigger a similar answer and you'd suddenly be fine with the atmosphere again. The social gathering was merely a non-suspicious justification to spend time with Lottie, who was off scrounging for more beer to supply the both of you with. It hadn't been long, a few minutes max, though, you still wished she'd hurry up and come back. You weren't really invested in conversing with any other members of your team, or anyone else here that attended your school for that matter - leaving you awkwardly awaiting Lottie's return. 

This didn't automatically mean that you disliked the people you would play the sport with, you did like a large majority of them and they were your closest friends. You weren't a loner, despite your lack of socialising at that moment which suggested otherwise; everyone else seemed to be scattered about, maybe in pairs or threes, moseying around with their own designated companion. You'd even catch glimpses of some of the girls kissing random guys, undoubtedly sparking trouble and unwanted romantic drama. You didn't want to be part of it. Ultimately, you were quite content with reducing yourself to clinging to Lottie's side, as you typically did.

The girl was witty, and cleverly humorous despite the fact that she was more subtle than harsh, never getting in anyone’s face or poking unnecessary fun at an oblivious target. She wasn't mean, bearing no intent to harm or cause trouble. Aside from her stunning looks and adorably gorgeous face, her genuine friendliness, sarcastic nature, and intelligence only ever intensified your infatuation with her. In addition, Lottie was incredible at what she did, her footwork being the cleanest on the team - how could you not admire her? 

At times, it frustrated you to no end, considering the world you lived in, people would avoid homosexuals like the plague, meaning you had precisely zero people to talk to about your troubles. You'd attempted to dismiss such feelings for your best friend, however, each instance proved useless.

Creating distance between the pair of you failed miserablely, for starters, the image of you and Lottie Matthews being miles apart caused eyebrows to raise immediately - purposely avoiding her made you feel deflated while it drastically upset her. It was inhumane to do that to someone, especially someone so special to you, therefore, that plan was scrapped within minutes. Besides, you played soccer together for your school, it was only a matter of time before you'd be attached at the hip again. 

'Newbie' was not the correct term for you, regarding your experiences with the team, nevertheless, you couldn't help but question your own utility. Although you could never exactly pinpoint why you were valued so much, apparently everyone else thought you were a spectacular asset and essential if they had any hope of winning Nationals. You disagreed. 

On the other hand, Lottie acted like she was your personal hype woman, constantly drowning you in praises throughout every second of every game. Those things got under your skin, in the best way possible. It was a miracle that your performance didn't waver when she'd encourage you with such charming words, blushing and fumbling after every compliment. 

You watched the brunette make her way toward you, a new batch of murky liquid in her hands, your heart a flutter at the mere sight of her. Lottie stumbled across the bumpy terrain, careful of the mud to prevent a fall, yet, she didn't hesitate to raise an arm excitedly to greet you. You smiled, shyly returning the wave. 

"Jesus Christ, what idiot chose here of all places to have a party!" Lottie giggled, slipping the new cup of alcohol into your old, empty one. 

"I have no idea, we kinda just show up, no questions asked," Your response was nonchalant, "Oh, thank you, by the way, for the drink," You quickly added on, eager to show your gratitude, even if it was over something minor. 

"What?" She stared, wide-eyed, struggling to hear you over the booming beats of whatever shitty song was playing. 

"I was just saying thank you for the beer!" Somewhat slurring your words, you began to shout, ensuring that you wouldn't need to repeat yourself again. 

"Yeah, of course! It's no problem!" 

Neither of you was severely intoxicated, at best it was more of a faint buzz guiding your bodies closer. The proximity gradually narrowed - there was not much hesitation as you were too busy caught up in the pointless, drunken conversation flowing between you and her. 

Equally giddy, you became progressively needy, hanging onto every word she spoke, whereas Lottie continuously rambled on about everything and nothing, informing you about insignificant details; a vast grin plastered to her face. Out of all the Yellowjackets, it was obvious that you and Lottie had consumed the most alcohol, the image of you together - fairly isolated from everyone else though still in view of anyone sober enough to care - her free hand lazily played with the ends of your hair and you gazed up at her wearing a toothy grin. 

Although it was strange for her to publicly display physical affection for you, the action didn't linger on your mind due to the woozy atmosphere. The man-made peace surrounding you, created by the beer, was soon broken by a few incoherent voices quarrelling suddenly. 

"You're a fucking sociopath!" 

Lottie, instantly detecting where the commotion was coming from, followed the sound of arguing. You trailed behind her, also eager to see some excitement.

"That was Shauna, right?" You inquired, cracking up at the idea of Shauna of all people getting into it with someone else, she was definitely not the type to start trouble.

"Sounds like her," The taller girl delighted, "Look! There, with Taissa."

You and Lottie merged with the congregation of people intensely monitoring Shauna and Taissa as they bickered back and forth about an incident that had occurred prematurely. Van had evidently been tangled up in the crossfire, the poor girl trying her hardest to separate her agitated teammates. You momentarily realised the situation was because of the gruesome injury inflicted on Allie, having been present when her flesh was ripped off her leg and her kneecap smashed. 

"I don't need you to defend me? Last time I checked you were totally fine with the whole 'freeze her out' strategy," Nat, feeling targeted, counted herself into the dispute, "I don't know why you two decided to come over here and just laugh when you were very much involved too?"

Her attention focused on you and Lottie, pointing fingers, exaggerating your amusement that had washed over with concern long before it had been mentioned, and hearing everyone shout at each other conveyed the seriousness of the situation plenty.

"Hey, what? We're not laughing?" Lottie defensively piped up, "I even said that I was unsure about it! How was I supposed to know that Tai would take it that far!"

Natalie shook her head, unimpressed with Lottie, instead, aggressively addressing you now. You hadn't spoken a single word, yet, the terror that shot through your veins was indescribable.

"What's your excuse? Apart from the fact that you go along with anything Lottie does," The blonde condescended.

"Fuck off Natalie, I didn't do anything. I didn't bust her leg and ruin her chances at playing sport," You quipped back at the unwanted blame, humiliated at whatever she was trying to hint at concerning Lottie.

"Bull. Shit."

Many negligible disagreements erupted violently inside the once collective dispute, drawing attention to you and your group. The volume was out of control, girls verbally attacking one another over nothing, arguing for argument's sake.

Due to the commotion, you started to attract bystanders, which in turn, alerted a very annoyed Jackie. She stopped what she was doing and promptly stomped over, disappointed and desperate to defuse the situation. Stern words from the girl with honey-coloured hair swiftly lead the fighting members of the Yellowjackets into a clearing, isolated from the party's intense atmosphere. 

You suppressed a groan at the suggested team-bonding activity, not particularly thrilled to forcibly compliment them at Jackie's request. Originally mimicking a military lineup, everyone disassembled from the formation and awkwardly approached each other, mumbling positive affirmations.

You were fortunate enough to be right next to Lottie, the taller girl swivelling around to meet your smaller self. She was without a drink, likely thrown it away before arriving at the new destination - in its place was a freshly lit cigarette. The crisp air dancing across your bodies sobered you up a bit, although not completely, you still felt more capable of thinking straight. 

There were millions of compliments you could've shower the beautiful brunette with, deciding what to actually say was a challenge. Taking drags of the cigarette and blowing the smoke in your general direction, because Lottie knew how it would make you blush, she peered down at you expectedly, awaiting an answer. Alternatively, she could've just taken the lead but didn't, for reasons you couldn't figure out.

"Jackie seriously couldn't think of anything better to fix our problems," You offered, seriously unsure about what to say to her. Lottie certainly wasn't going to let it go, yet the issue of accidentally being too forward and implying your romantic feelings for her was a looming threat that held you back. 

"What is it, not got anything nice to say to me?" She mused, smirking. 

"I admire your commitment to sport and…" You cut yourself off. 

"And what?" 

A strangled chuckle left your tightening throat, leaving Lottie amused. 

"I don't know, well, I was gonna say something like…you're a really great friend to me."

For a millisecond, you considered coming out with the truth and telling her how pretty she was. Ultimately, you fumbled and quickly covered it up, though you couldn't shake the feeling that Lottie knew how awfully you were lying. 

"Sure, you're a good friend to me too," she mocked, playfully jabbing her finger into your shoulder before returning the cigarette to her lips. 

This your eyes followed, trailing up until you inevitably met hers. You didn't know if it was because you'd gained confidence after the alcohol you'd had throughout the evening, or if you had internally decided to be more bold - forward with her - but you didn't want to look away. You couldn't look away. 

You noticed as Lottie's face changed from playful, to something more gentle, yet serious, like she had been suddenly whisked away in the same trance that had lured you into a daze. The ever-present background noise of the girls laughing and joking with each other danced happily around your ears, your subconscious pleased to hear your teammates having fun again. Though, you felt isolated from them, too focused on Lottie's plump lips and how they would part slightly, ready to say something, but freighted to do it. 

Her tanned skin glistened under the shine of the moon, creating something other-worldly out of someone who was already beyond ravishing. The distance between you shortened with each second, Lottie's hands were itching to reach out and pull you closer - you craved it. 

"Me and Shauna are gonna start heading back, get home safe!" 

The lust-filled atmosphere concealing you and her from the rest of the world crumbled, the interruption from Jackie announcing her and Shauna's exit brutally snapped the pair of you back into reality. There were a few awkward glances shared while you casually backed off from her. Nothing really happened; the fear of rejection crept in nonetheless, wondering if you'd overstepped her boundaries. 

Jackie and Shauana disappeared into a clearing, prompting many of the other girls to disperse and start to make their own way home.

"Are we leaving too?" You shyly asked, the tension from moments ago playing on your mind.

Lottie paused, considering her options thoroughly. She scanned the surrounding area, her face radiating an internal conflict so severe she couldn't have just been deciding whether she wanted to return home or stick around for a little longer.

“No. We’re staying.”

Her voice was fierce, a dangerous fire blazing in her eyes as she snatched your wrist and dragged you further within the trees, the taller girl guiding you to an unknown destination. You didn't complain nor protest. It was completely in the norm for her to do whatever she pleased with you trailing not too far behind. One could even say, you were totally whipped. She had your entire trust.

"Where are we going, Lottie?" You laughed nervously - that curious, giddy feeling back again.

"Away from everyone…just the two of us."

You couldn't determine her tone and you couldn't see her face. A silent blush tinted your cheeks. Was she messing with you? Was she purposely sounding so seductive? Did she know how hard your aching heart was pounding frantically against your chest?

The brunette came to a halt and you followed suit. Lottie finally spun around, meeting you face-to-face, her eyebrows were furrowed and her breath against your skin was unsteady, but it didn't stop her from grabbing your jaw and sloppily locking her lips with yours.

Tingles and hot flushes spread across your body due to the very sensation that was her mouth pressing bruisingly into your own. Any whimpers or whines you let slip as you reciprocated the passion she was gifting you, were shushed, Lottie taking the quickest of breaks from being attached to your lips to remind you to keep quiet made your insides melt - having the opposite effect, instead encouraging you to get more impatient.

She forcefully guided you backward until the rough bark of a tree was up against you, your hands clutched to her waist and your nails dug deeper because of this, earning a pleasured groan from the one who was basically on top of you. You could taste the liquor from earlier on her, she could taste it on you too. It didn't stop either of you from wildly exploring each other's mouths. 

Desperate to somehow be even closer to you, Lottie's weight smothered you, her height compared to yours left you with no chance of gaining control, but that wasn't an issue at all. Unintentionally, she lifted a leg for reasons only justifiable because of the positions you were in and the circumstances of a limited area, causing her knee to press into a certain spot between your shaking thighs. A moan slipped from your throat, louder than expected.

"Oh, my," Lottie chortled, taking a step back, "Did you like that?"

"Shut up and keep kissing me…please."

She obliged, buzzing with delight, the kisses slower at first, filled with love, the pace gradually picking up until you found yourselves similarly to where you were before: heated, messy, and running out of air.

-

The weight from your foot cautiously stepping up the rickety rungs of the old ladder made quite a racket, the wood rotting, similarly to the entire foundation of the cabin. It was a surprise that the structure was even suitable to live inside. Your designated pillow and blanket were slung over your arm, consequently, you struggled to make it to the top - climbing a ladder one-handed was not on your bingo card for this summer. Then again, neither was surviving a plane crash and having to live in Canada's brutal wilderness for an insufferable amount of time.

"What are you doing?" Taissa, who must have heard your endeavour, leaned over the entrance of the attic, "Here, I've got you."

The athlete assisted you with ease, collecting your belongings for you and placing them to the side so they would no longer be an inconvenience.

"Thank you, Tai," You nodded, briskly moving to set out a place to sleep, busying yourself in an attempt to avoid any questions you knew were about to come your way.

"Why are you up here?" 

"I just thought I'd support my friend, prove to everyone that there's nothing to be scared of and that the cabin isn't haunted…" You lied confidently.

"Right…If you were so sure, why did it take you this long to join me up here? I mean, I would appreciate it more if you displayed your so-called unity ten minutes ago? When I proposed the idea and got no response? You tryna make me look stupid?" Taissa quipped, mostly light-hearted, but you knew that she wasn't buying it - she was more bothered about getting the truth out of you than wasting time being annoyed.

You brushed it off with a laugh, kneeling down to fluff up your pillow and adjust the extremely thin blanket-crafted mattress. You relaxed yourself against it, now snuggled up on the floor. Taissa copied this, bringing herself to get comfortable next to you. 

"So are you going to tell me the actual reason why you chose to come sleep in this creepy attic?" She was relentless, never shutting up unless your response was satisfactory. "Shouldn't you be down there, with Lottie?" 

"What? What's that supposed to mean?" You choked, disappointed that she'd guessed part of your problem this early on.

"Oh c'mon, don't be like that, I'm only pointing out that it's unusual for you to be this far away from her. You and Lottie, not up each other's asses? That's unheard of," She smirked. 

"Okay, shouldn't you be down there with Van, then?" You mimicked the suggestive question, turning the suspicious homoerotic friendship allegations onto her this time. 

Taissa let out a sigh. Not because of you or anything that you'd said, rather, she missed her secret lover after mere minutes of separation.

"Van's too freaked out, she wanted to stay with the others," She spoke, deflated, the cheeky way of her words had disappeared, the reality of what you'd seen at the seance front and centre in her mind. 

"I'm terrified," You bluntly admitted, "I'm way too scared to be near her and I know how selfish it sounds but I can't do it. Lottie…she, well, she was fucking possessed!" 

After the party, you and her never spoke about the kiss. Things carried on between you as they normally would, thankfully, yet the memories of that night corrupted your every thought. You assumed that the plethora of alcohol you shared caused her to forget, which was still strange since you remembered it perfectly, but ignored it anyway. If she genuinely had no memory of it, that would probably be for the best; you'd hate to ruin your already-established friendship. 

However, over the past week subsequent to the crash, there was a minor difference in her that made it so the pair of you were somehow closer than before, this including physical closeness to one another. Hence, you were under the impression that she simply refused to mention the kiss due to reasons unknown. Possibly some variation of fear. 

Then, as her way of 'pulling her weight' to help the group adapt to their new life, Jackie cooks up an amazing idea to host a seance that, in turn, offers Lottie up to any available demons, her body becoming a vessel for the supernatural. 

It was horrifying. The delicate flicker of the candles had blown themselves out, ripping away any source of light; the room was filled with disorientated screams and panicked suggestions to make Lottie stop chanting - your 'sort-of girlfriend' had been repeating something demonic in French, successfully freaking everyone the fuck out. Vague translations had left the group mostly in the dark about what was happening, the only parts that were figured out included the spillage of blood and the demands of an unnatural being. 

The shock that struck you then stayed with you now, the thought of sleeping next to her was unbearable, thus explaining why you relocated to the attic to be with Taissa.

"It's okay to be scared, you know that, right?" She offered, trying to smile.

"I feel horrible though. I can't believe I just left her because I'm too much of a coward to face an issue that wasn't even her fault!" You fussed, grumbling into your hands to hide your face and the tears that were forming in your eyes. 

"Hey, it's not your fault either. I'm sure Lottie will understand if you spend one night away from her, with good reason might I add," A friendly chuckle strived to cheer you up, Tai shuffled up to you in case you needed to borrow her shoulder. 

"We kissed."

You don't know why you told her, you were planning on keeping it a secret, locking it away forever like the situation never even existed in the first place and was just another daydream, about your best friend, that nobody would ever know about. 

The girl beside you took in a shocked breath, "Shit…I kinda guessed that you weirdos liked each other a bit too much but oh my god I wasn't expecting that." 

"We've both been acting like nothing happened that night. Then this had to happen and make everything more complicated." You explained, slightly calmer than you had been a few moments ago. 

"Try not to worry about it. Get some rest, clear your mind, and talk to her about it tomorrow, okay? 

The suggestion had you nodding in agreement, what else could you really do at that point in time? You were in great need of an undisturbed rest and if you had to move away from the possessed culprit to do that then it was in your right to do so. You concluded that at the first chance you got throughout the busy, chore-filled day, you would go off and find Lottie. The idea made you anxious, nauseous even, but you couldn't avoid her and 'it' forever. 

When you finally awoke the next morning, the sun was beaming through the window, golden rays shining down on your face and painfully in your eyes - you rolled over to avoid it, only to discover that Taissa was already gone. 

It must've been later than usual since nobody besides Coach Scott could be found inside the cabin, everyone else had vacated it to carry out tasks, individually pitching in, which you were falling behind on due to the late start.

You recalled Shauna asking you to assist her with something, probably revolving meat rations. You weren't sure why she chose you of all people to help her with that stuff, but you supposed it was because you originally showed some willingness and then suddenly, you're dragged into it every time. 

Luckily, you spotted her immediately, stood around with Jackie, seemingly waiting for you. 

Apologies for unintentionally lying in came tumbling out of you, explaining how Taissa kindly forgot to wake you up. This earned you a hearty chuckle from Shauna who reassured you that it was okay, and that she knew you'd take a little longer as Tai had taken it upon herself to inform the group that you needed the extra rest. Feeling partially relieved, you followed Shauna into the forestry areas to the shed where the dead animals were kept - you didn't fail to notice Lottie's absence. 

As instructed, you thinly sliced the portions of raw meat for rationing; the blade smoothly cut through. It wouldn't be long until you'd run out of food again, the one deer unfortunately wasn't enough to sustain the group forever, hence, you'd rather not worry about it, the hunters were out doing all they could and you had to put some faith in them. 

Your mind drifted to Lottie, not a great decision since thinking about her was very distracting and you were wielding an extremely sharp knife - to accidentally slash your fingers while concentrating on her would be an amusing story for everyone else, not so funny for you however.

"Are you nearly finished?" Shauna checked up on your progress, peeking over your shoulder. 

"Pretty much, yeah," You murmured, preoccupied, "Hey, have you seen Lottie this morning? I'm just curious since she wasn't around the cabin."

"Yeah I saw her, it wasn't for long," She recalled, "Laura Lee took her to the lake. You know, after the seance and everything…she's been acting really weird."

Having finished your task, you placed the knife down and rested your palms against the rigid table, then said, "I don't know how I'm realising it now but, something has been wrong with her for a fair few days. We haven't brought any attention to it, is all. 

With a dirtied rag, Shauna wiped the blood off her hands and urged you to do the same. 

"Maybe keep an eye on her if it makes you feel better. I think we've all been acting reasonably different." She replied, wanting to keep the hopes high, this you appreciated, giving her a small nod as she gathered up the meat and took it away to be stored. 

You sighed deeply and shut your eyes tight, focusing on nothing, ensuring that your head was clear. The heat alone, out there in the wild, made you feel exhausted.

Stretching your back, you heard a faint rustle from no more than a metre or two away. Expertly scanning the surrounding area, you were ready to snatch the weapon up from the table and call for backup. If you were lucky, this could've been your next meal. Your mouth almost watered at the many possibilities of which animal would come into your vicinity without a single clue in the world of what their fate would be. The low grumble in your stomach grew. 

Emerging from the trees, you quickly learnt that it wasn't an animal at all, it was Lottie; her hair had been wet but was gradually drying, some of the strands still clinging to her face, and the t-shirt she was wearing had a few damp patches splattered about. 

Abruptly feeling awkward, you met her eyes sheepishly, waiting patiently for her to break the silence. 

"Is now a bad time?" She carefully questioned you, her hands joined together in a  nervous clump. 

"Not at all," You uttered, feigning confidence when you were actually as equally anxious as she was. 

"Can we talk?" 

You had no objections, having been patient all day, awaiting an opportunity to set things straight with Lottie. Trailing behind her into the woods, you thought back to the party, the way she was leading you to a secluded area so the pair of you could be isolated, it was a direct parallel to that night that seemed a lifetime ago, the night where you had hopes that your relationship might have progressed. 

"Is everything okay, Lot?" You gently asked.

"Where were you last night?" The taller girl decided you'd walked far enough and that this spot behind the cabin was suitable to converse, thus she stopped, "I woke up and you weren't there." 

"I went to the attic."

"Why?"

There was no use in lying, it wouldn't benefit neither you nor Lottie, the excuse that you went up there for Tai, that you failed in convincing her, wouldn't make much sense anyway because the brunette had slept through the proposal. Plus, you just wanted to be honest. That's why you agreed to this in the first place. 

"I was scared of what happened to you," You admitted, the anxiety you felt after seeing her possessed came flooding back, distressing you all over again. 

Lottie paused, conjuring the perfect response. She didn't say anything - a small, understanding, but sad, nod was the best she could do. A harsh pang of guilt struck your lower body. 

"I'm sorry, leaving you like that was probably wrong and I shouldn't have done it, I didn't mean to upset you, Lot. I'm really sorry," You apologised sincerely, "I'm not freaked out anymore, maybe a bit on edge still but, you're better now, right?" 

You wondered if you sounded too whiny, your intention was to ensure that your best friend was okay, nothing else. 

Her big brown eyes swirled with confusion, she couldn't even tell herself if she had returned back to normal, her voice brimming with anxiety, she whispered, "Do you hate me for what happened?" 

"What, no! Of course not, I promise I don't hate you," You explained in a panic, absolutely heartbroken that you'd caused her to say such ridiculous things. 

"I don't just mean that," Lottie slowly spoke, testing the waters as she was concerned about approaching the upcoming admission, "The party too, we never talked about it."

To say you were astonished was an understatement. Lottie, someone who you thought had completely forgotten about the kiss, openly acknowledged the fact that it definitely happened.

"I didn't say anything because I didn't think that you remembered, or that you chose to ignore it. I could never hate you, especially because of something like that. It was amazing!" You exclaimed, red tinting your cheeks, joy spreading across your face. 

This same cheer infected Lottie, her frown lifting into a beautiful, more confident grin. 

"Yeah, it was good," She agreed, blushing furiously. 

Although she appeared happier, the furrow of her brow indicated that she remained slightly apprehensive, prompting you to inquire, "What is it, Lot?" 

"There's another problem, I think I've been seeing stuff and I don't know if it's real or not." The brunette troubled, shuffling around. 

"Like hallucinations? Visions?" 

"Visions. I went to the lake earlier, with Laura Lee, and she dunked me under the water - and I ended up in a candle-lit room and then I saw an explosion and… I don't know what's happening to me," She rambled on, her eyes pricking with tears. 

You reached out to her, firmly rubbing her shoulder for comfort, "You can talk to me about anything, I'm here for you."

"So, you'll believe me? Laura Lee does, but the others are cautious. You're the one that I need." Lottie's expression was solemn, entirely serious about the discussion you were having; her vulnerable side shining through. 

"I believe you and I trust you. I care about you so much, you know?" 

 Your attention was brought to the blossoming pink patches covering her face due to your honesty, the taller girl experiencing an overwhelming mixture of emotions, she launched herself into your open arms. You hugged her back, tightly, letting go wasn't something that you'd be doing anytime soon, the height difference when you'd have such drawn-out, warm embraces always succeeded in making you laugh. 

After an undetermined amount of time, you both instinctively pulled away simultaneously. You gazed up at her, body language oozing with love while you brushed her dark strands of hair out of her face. Lottie's tanned hand cupped your cheek, you could see that she was feeling the warmth radiating off of it, yet, it didn't humiliate you, it felt freeing. 

You leaned in close, pecking her soft lips once, then going back in for a second short, though, sickly sweet kiss. Lottie began to giggle - the melodic noise identical to the one you would hear in the Yellowjackets locker room after a long, tiring game, or when you and her exclusivity went around invested in your own dumb shenanigans. It had been a while since you'd heard it, your heart beating faster as a result. 

Her palm traced your skin until she arrived at your chin, tilting it upwards, accessing your mouth easier as she towered over you - this kiss was not a short peck. It wasn't a sloppy, heated mess either, rather, it was slow and filled to the brim with affection. 

"So are we like a thing then?" Lottie beamed, remaining incredibly close to you with an indescribable bliss. 

"If you want things to be official, then I do too," You marvelled, mirroring her wide, toothy grin. 

You continued to pepper kissing all over each other's faces, showering your counterparts in affection. From there, things were appearing more positive; your hopes were high for the future.

[greg-montgomery]

It’ll pass

pic by @masterwords <3

this is just something angsty based on this post <3

warnings for pining, unrequited love, thoughts of cheating and no happy ending ❤️ lmfao idk wtf is wrong with me i’m literally sorry

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“Please, don’t be her. Please, don’t be her.”

Aaron shut his eyes and repeated these words in silence as he made his way to the door. His prayers were pointless and he knew it. He knew it was you. He could tell from the knock on his door; a double tap loud enough to be heard, soft enough not to wake him up in case he was asleep.

“I knew you’d be awake,” you said when the door opened, revealing your sweet, relieved smile.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “But I can’t sleep. My brain won’t stop coming up with new theories about the case.”

Aaron stepped to the side, so you’d walk into his room.

He stared at you, thinking that he was now cursed, just as much as he was blessed, with the sight of you in your pajamas. Soft, sleepy, warm…If only he could just wrap you up in his embrace, take you to bed, kiss your forehead, and melt all those troubling thoughts of yours away.

“I figured you’d understand,” you added, softly.

“I do,” he admitted.

“Can I sit?”

‘No. Please, leave,’ he wanted, desperately, to say. “Of course.”

You smiled at his words, settling on the small couch next to his bed. You took off those cheap hotel slippers you were wearing, revealing a funny pair of socks. “Birthday gift from Reid,” you said, defending yourself before Aaron even had the chance to comment on them.

“I didn’t say anything,” he chuckled. He hated that you had already managed to make him laugh.

“You thought it,” you argued.

You took one of the couch cushions in your arms, holding it like a teddy bear, and made yourself comfortable, as he sat on the side of the bed that was facing you.

You always seemed comfortable around him, and that was a fact that made him both happy and sad.

Why would he hate the fact that the woman he was madly in love with was comfortable around him? Because being comfortable in his presence meant that there were no unspoken feelings towards him from your side. Nothing complicated keeping you from being yourself. You were just visiting a colleague; a friend. But Aaron was far from comfortable. His palms were growing sweaty as his fingers played with his wedding band; a small way to remind himself of the vows he had taken and why it would be a terrible idea to kiss you breathless right now.

His eyes dropped to your lips; a little pouty but soft as ever. You always went to bed wearing some coconut lip balm. He knew that, because he had once heard you talking to Garcia about it. “It’s the one thing I never forget to do before I go to sleep,” you had announced, proud of your little beauty secret. “No matter how tired I am.”

He always paid attention to the things you said about yourself; always keeping note of the little details about you that he’d never have the chance to learn in any other way. He would never be the one laying in bed next to you to see you swipe the pad of your ring finger across your lips.

He’d never get to know you more than a boss would know his subordinate.

“This case is affecting you too, isn’t it?” your soft voice, snapped him out of his thoughts.

You had translated his silence wrong and he was grateful for it.

“I just want it to be over,” he said.

“So do I....I don’t want anyone else to get hurt. It’s been a while since we saw murders this brutal.” You made a face, and Aaron could tell that images of the crimes flashed in your mind just like they did in his.

“We’ll catch him. We always do,” he said in an attempt to reassure you.

“I know…”

He couldn’t help it. Before he had the chance to talk himself out of it, he stood up and made his way to the couch, sitting next to you. Your thigh touched his, and the feeling of this simple contact alone took his breath away.  

His hand covered yours, and you stared at it with a smile, before raising your head to offer that beautiful smile to him.

“We’ll be okay,” he said.

You nodded. “I knew it was a good idea to come here.”

His eyes softened at your words. That’s all he wanted. To make everything better for you.

Maybe it was all in his head, but he sensed some kind of tension as you looked into each other’s eyes. Maybe you wanted to kiss him as bad as he did. Maybe you had the same fantasy that Aaron did, of him throwing you on his bed, opening your legs and getting lost inside you.

But you broke the spell, pulling your hand away from his grip. “You always have this…” you paused, giving some thought to your next words “…this confidence. Or…I don’t know how to explain it. You’re Hotch. And when you tell us we’ll catch the bad guy, I believe you.”

He looked at you with a confused smile. Perhaps he didn’t fully get what you were saying, but he knew your words were flattering.

“What I’m trying to say is that you’re a good boss,” you explained. “And we’re lucky to have you.”

“That means a lot,” he answered.

You grinned; proud that your words were important to him.

“Well…I shouldn’t keep our favorite boss man up for much longer,” you said, getting up, giggling at the implications of your innocent sentence.

It didn’t mean anything to you.

Aaron walked towards the door, making sure to open it for you like a true gentleman.

“Good night,” he said.

“Good night,” you said before turning around to leave. “And thanks for having me.”

You had only taken one step, when he called out your name. Your eyes locked with his as you stood there, waiting for what he had to say.

“Please, don’t come to my room again.”

You froze. He saw the embarrassment in your eyes, the concern that you had somehow crossed a line you shouldn’t have or made him uncomfortable.

He was quick to take those worries away.

“I mean that…with the greatest of compliments.”

The realization hit just a second after Aaron had fallen silent. You nodded your head, without looking at him anymore, and a moment later you were out of his sight.

“It’ll pass,” he whispered to himself.

[ollieofthebeholder]

to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest): a TMA fanfic

<< Beginning < Prev. || AO3

Chapter 31: January 2010

Gerard slips into the room, closing the door as quietly as he can behind him, and gives his eyes a second to adjust. It’s dark, not necessarily by design, but it is well after sundown and the curtains are tightly closed. The green glow of the luminescent hands of the alarm clock on the nightstand gives texture to some of the shadows around it, but little more than that.

“Hey,” he says, keeping his voice as low as possible. “How is he?”

“Sleeping. I think.” Melanie’s voice is barely above a whisper. She sits at the side of the bed, both hands wrapped loosely around one of Martin’s. “He’s not fighting things that aren’t—that I can’t see, anyway.”

Gerard comes closer and sits beside Melanie. As usual, he’s struck by the difference between this room and his own, or Melanie’s. Gerard’s room, one of the few spaces in his life he’s always had control over, can be most charitably described as organized chaos, his clothing spilling out of boxes rather than bothering to put it away and the carpet and wall behind and beneath his easel splattered with long-dried paint, all the furniture and woodwork painted or stained as dark as he could get it and a haphazard collection of tapes and CDs littering the area around his stereo. Melanie’s, especially these days, frequently looks like a small localized tornado has swept through, and her walls are so covered with band posters and pictures cut out of magazines and photographs of the three of them that you can’t see the original wallpaper, but the furniture is the same white gilt-edged furniture she inherited from her late mother that she’s used her whole life.

By contrast, Martin’s room is neat as a pin, all his belongings carefully tucked away out of sight, the walls perfectly blank and painted in clean, light colors. The furniture is cheap but serviceable, although the bed is of surprisingly good quality and size (or would be if Gerard didn’t know it used to be Roger and Lily’s), and everything is laid out very precisely and logically. There’s no decoration, no personalization, no expression of individuality.

Gerard knows that at least part of that is because Martin always had trouble focusing on his homework as a kid if there was literally anything to distract him, but damn, he’s a grown adult with a job now. Surely he can let himself have something. On the other hand, part of it is also that he’s ever so slightly paranoid about losing things the second they’re out of his line of sight and thus minimizes the clutter and places for things to hide as much as possible, and Gerard isn’t sure how to alleviate that. Especially not since there’s a good reason for him to fear it.

He reaches out and gently lays the back of his hand against Martin’s forehead. “Jesus. He’s still burning up.”

“Maybe we should take him back to the A&E.” Melanie’s voice wavers uncertainly. “That doctor said he’d be fine with a bit of rest, but…it’s been three days.”

Gerard worries at his lower lip for a moment. He’s never going to forgive himself for this.

He’s been touring the continent for the last few months, mostly in the south, trying to get away from…everything. Chasing he doesn’t know what. Freedom? Change? He never planned to be gone forever, just long enough for things to settle a bit. His thought was to take a year, learn a few things, and then come home in time for Martin’s birthday in August. It was when he’d called to find out if Melanie had got the Christmas present he’d posted from Athens that he changed his plans.

It’s been an unusually cold, wet winter, and while Martin never complains, and wouldn’t have said a word even if either of them had been in town, Gerard likes to think he would have at least bought his brother a decent pair of boots. Instead he’s been walking around in shoes that aren’t waterproof with the soles nearly worn through, without a warm enough coat, and the car finally gave up the ghost three weeks before Gerard left the country. No wonder he’s sick now.

Bronchitis. Not as bad as it could be, but bad enough, and Martin let it go untreated too long, according to Melanie. Unsurprising, since he’s been alone for the last few weeks, between Gerard being thousands of miles away on holiday and Melanie trying to get that ghost-hunting show off the ground, and also because it’s Martin, who will run himself into the ground to take care of the people around him but would rather chew off his own arms than admit he needs it too.

Gerard is just thankful Melanie made it home from her filming a couple days before Martin collapsed while trying to re-shelf some books. And that he called her when he did instead of a few days earlier, because if he’d moved on to another country, she wouldn’t have been able to let him know what’s going on.

“They discharged him, though, right?” he asks. “I mean, he was at the A&E and they said he was good to go home?”

“Honestly, I think they were overfull and didn’t consider him a priority,” Melanie grumbles. “But he was awake…sort of…and we got an official discharge with a prescription, but the second I got him home…” She nods at the bed.

Gerard swears softly under his breath. “I’m rubbish at this.”

“Me, too. I thought I could do this because Martin always did it for me—and for Dad and Lily—and I thought I’d learned from watching him, but…” Melanie won’t meet Gerard’s eyes. “Martin never let it get this bad when it was us.”

“We weren’t here.” It’s a weak excuse and Gerard knows it. Even if he’d been in London, the likelihood he would have noticed anything until it was too late is slim to none. Since the incident with that early edition of Stand Still Like the Hummingbird a few years back, he’s become adept at spotting when Martin’s mental health is starting to fray, but hell, Gerard can barely tell when he’s starting to actually get sick with something serious, let alone when Martin “it’s supposed to do that” Blackwood is. Besides, Martin isn’t the sort to give in to illness. Partly it’s the same situation as Gerard and the migraines he’s finally outgrown—that his being sick was never taken seriously growing up, that he was expected to suck it up and deal—but partly it’s that he focuses so hard on taking care of others that he won’t let himself be sick. For him to be like this…

Gerard hears an odd sound, only obvious because of how quiet the room is—a faint rustling, a riffling of cardboard—coming from Melanie’s direction and frowns at her. “Neens? What are you doing?”

Melanie stills, her head still bowed, looking at whatever is in her hands. “I won’t lose him.”

“Melanie.” Gerard’s stomach lurches as he realizes what she’s holding. He reaches over and covers it with his hands. “Do you actually think you can cheat Death?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, yes, you can, but—Melanie, you know you won’t like the consequences.”

“Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.” Melanie’s voice is nearly inaudible. “To be trapped by one of Them forever, if it means you and Martin are okay…I’d put up with a lot for that.”

Gerard gently cups Melanie’s chin and turns her head in his direction, forcing her to look at him. “He will never forgive himself if you bind yourself to one of the Fourteen for him. Ever.”

Melanie’s eyes brim with tears, and she pushes his hand away roughly, but she does put the deck of cards in the drawer of the nightstand. “I fucking hate you.”

“So what else is new?”

They sit in silence for several more minutes, listening to Martin’s raspy, labored breathing. Finally, Gerard breaks it, just because he can’t stand the sound. “Bets on whether we’ll be able to get him to stay in bed once he wakes up?”

“He’s going to stay in this bed until he’s well if I have to tie him to it and sit on him,” Melanie says fiercely. “If he gets up he’ll just get sick again. I mean it, Gerry, I am not losing him. Not him or you. Not to something like this.”

“It’s not the way I’d want to go out,” Gerard agrees. Not that he thinks he’ll have the luxury of dying of old age, not with the life they lead, but getting taken out by something preventable like a virus just feels anticlimactic and unfair. He’s sure he’ll end up dying at the hands of one of the Fourteen, probably in agony. He just hopes it’s not in front of Melanie or Martin.

Melanie lifts her hand and begins brushing Martin’s hair back from his forehead in soft, rhythmic strokes. After a moment, she begins humming, then singing softly. Gerard recognizes it as the old seamen’s hymn, the one Martin sings sometimes when he feels sad or lonely. When he feels the fog closing in, as he puts it. Gerard joins in as soon as he remembers where the words are going, trying to keep his voice as low as possible.

The tattoos on his joints give a dull, pulsing throb, and Gerard realizes they aren’t just singing for no reason, even if Melanie thought they were when she started. Something is trying to get at them, probably the Lonely, and the song is helping to push it back. Maybe.

Martin’s breath hitches, then evens out. Slowly, almost painfully, his lashes flutter open, and he squints up into the darkness. “Melanie?” he croaks. His eyes widen suddenly, and he tries to lift a hand to her face. “Melanie, your—eyes—”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Melanie says gently. She grabs at something on the bedside table—Gerard is about to reprimand her for going for the cards—then comes back with Martin’s glasses and slides them onto his face before leaning over to kiss his forehead. “There. Better?”

Martin blinks slowly once, twice, then nods. “Yeah,” he says, sounding uncertain and disorientated. “What…time is it?”

“Half-two,” Gerard says with a quick glance at the alarm clock. “In the morning, not in the afternoon.”

“Gerry…?” Martin tries to sit up. Both Melanie and Gerard make noises of concern and try to stop him. “What…are you doing…here?”

“I came back when Melanie told me you were sick.” Gerard concedes the inevitable and gets up to help Martin into a reclining position, leaning against the headboard and propped against his pillows so he can—hopefully—breathe. “What, did you think I’d just say ‘oh, well, that sucks’ and keep traipsing across the continent?”

“I mean…yes?” Martin blinks at him, evidently confused. “I’m not sick?”

“You are,” Melanie says, her voice wavering between exasperation and worry. “The doctor at the A&E said it was bronchitis.”

Martin turns his confusion on Melanie. “When was I at the A&E?”

“Three days ago. You fainted at work and they called an ambulance for you.”

Martin coughs, a wheezing, rattling thing that sends a spike of anxiety up Gerard’s spine, and Melanie hands him a glass of water that she’s evidently had waiting for him. “Okay. Maybe I am sick.” He takes a sip of water, then looks up at Gerard, guilt written all over his face. “I’m sorry you cut your holiday short.”

“I’m not. Traveling alone was starting to get old anyway.” Gerard sits on the edge of Martin’s bed and pats his leg under the blanket. “And since I’m here, I can help Melanie force you to stay in bed until you’re actually over this.”

Martin opens his mouth to protest, but Melanie forestalls him. “Shut up. You’re not putting me through this again. If you try to get up too soon, you’ll just get sick again, and next time it might turn into pneumonia. You are going to stay in this bed until your fever’s been down for at least twenty-four hours without medication and I’m satisfied you’re back to normal.”

Gerard can’t help but smile a little. “Dr. King has spoken.”

“You can shut up, too.”

Martin sighs. “If I went to the A&E from the Institute, I’ll have to have a doctor’s note to go back to work anyway. Good job I’ve got plenty of sick time, I guess.”

“Have you taken a sick day since you started?” Gerard asks.

“No, not really. A personal day here and there, but nothing like this.”

Melanie hesitates. “There was a text a couple days ago—I didn’t recognize the number and it’s not saved in your phone, but whoever it was told you that you had plenty of time built up, and not to come back until you were ‘properly well’ because ‘the Library needs you at your best’. So I think you’ll be okay.”

“That’s…not as comforting as you might think.” Martin lets his head bang gently against the wall and closes his eyes for a moment. “All right. You win. I’ll be good.” He yawns, then breaks off into a coughing fit. “Ugh. I think I’m going back to sleep for a bit. Um, I’ve still only got the sofa, but—“

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not leaving you.” Melanie scoots the chair closer to make her point.

Gerard nods in agreement. “Get some sleep, both of you. I’ll be here.”

It’s a sign of how sick Martin is that he complies immediately, letting his eyes drift shut and his shoulders relax. It’s also a sign of how little sleep Melanie’s had in the last three days that she folds her arms on the side of Martin’s bed, rests her head on them, and falls asleep barely a heartbeat later. Gerard slips out to the living room long enough to grab the knitted throw Martin made when he was twelve, then tosses it over Melanie’s shoulders before settling onto the end of the bed cross-legged to watch them.

He doesn’t regret coming back. Not in the slightest. The trip’s been good for him, but he’s glad to be home, even under the circumstances. And when Martin is better, he’ll be gladder still. For now, he sets himself to keeping an eye on his brother and sister. He doesn’t doubt for a minute that Melanie’s been wearing herself to a thread with fretting, and she needs looking after as much as Martin does, in a way.

That’s his job. He may not be as good at it as Martin—nobody is, really—but he’s still the big brother, and he still feels a need to look after them. He probably always will.

After all, he loves them, and love is worth the work put into it.

[mochikeiji]

Looking Like U Got Me

Request: "Prompt no. 56 and 55 for Gojo ＼(^o^)／"

55. "You look like my husband/wife"

56. "Keep doing that and I'll marry you faster"

↠ Pairing: Gojou Satoru x Reader

↠ Warning: none! Simply fluff

↬ Word Count: 1.7k

↠ a/n: i accidentally mixed up prompts 55 and 57 ;-; but still hoping this turns out good!!

↳ from Go! Go! Gogatsu Event!

All he wanted was to wake up in bed, next to you— who would cuddle deeper in his arms even in slumber so he'd smother you with his kisses and tighten his hold around you and drift back to sleep longer, finally free of responsibilities for once and enjoy quality time with his only favorite person. But instead he wakes up with a groan passing through his lips, supporting his back side with his hand while shuffling to his side in a different position as the light sun rays shun through the window blinds, softly fanning his eye and forehead.

Gojo chuckles a bit before wincing. His lower back so tensed that he feels himself get older by the day. Pouting at the empty space next to him, he palms the cold sheet in wonder of where you are. Up so early in the morning when you could've just stayed in for him. How annoying. His eyes shut for moment when the scent coming from outside the room intruded his senses. Ah, you must be cooking breakfast. How sweet of you.

Thank goodness it wasn't another batch of dried crackers or cup of noodles that'll enter his mouth. He was never one to cook meals when he was on solo or when you weren't around. The very thought of not only the meal was awaiting for him outside, but also you excites him that it made him feel tingly inside. Call it dramatic, yeah, but it's not every day someone gets to wake up and immediately feel this full of love in the morning. You were the only and last love he's ever wanted to have in this world. It was so surreal even to him.

Sighing before pushing himself up, Gojo yawns out the remains of drowsiness in his system and stands. He didn't bother wearing a shirt since last night, claiming that he misses how his body rubs off yours in both comforting and suggestive ways. Plus it was just you and him home, he'd rather walk naked than wear the usual long sleeved uniform on a warm day.

The scent of coffee got stronger as he closes in his journey towards the kitchen. There was faint sizzling coming from the pan as you stood there in attendance. Stuck in your own little world, swaying to the sound of the radio playing, U got Me by Yung Heazy. It was one of the few songs that reminded you of Gojo back when you were both high schoolers. The exact song you remembered playing when you both hung out on a small cafe in Tokyo. Where he was so flustered, attempted to hide his blushes with his round glasses. The little things that reminded you of that memory never fails to make your heart race.

Of course Gojo knows this one as well. Because it was on that date as well he had call you, "his" after masking his embarrassment and from obviously checking you out every minute. How could he contain himself? He was a young man who was having trouble in the arts of love. Nevertheless he was glad to have grown up from those years. If his younger self could see him now, he'd be gagging at the sight of a softer version of his older self.

Snaking his arms around your torso carefully to avoid surprising you, he places his chin above your shoulder. Salivating at the sight of thick bacon in deep frying, shamelessly letting you know he was hungry from the sound of his stomach growling. "This is a nice way to greet me." you smile at the man behind you, who had his eyes closed in delight while rubbing his cheek against yours like a cat in need of attention. "Good morning to you as well, sweet cheeks." he says after  pressing a kiss on your skin.

"You got up early." whining softly, his hair and nose tickling the side of your neck and shoulder, "I was hoping to stay longer y'know?" trailing his hands underneath the his shirt you were wearing, mapping out on all the skin he could squish and hold with his large palms. Noticeably pressing himself closer to your body, the much needed space gone but you weren't complaining. After all, this was Gojo, a man who knows no boundaries.

"I wanted to make breakfast for you. We haven't had one together since we're both busy." you say as you grabbed the nearby plate, turning off the stove as the now cooked meal sizzles softly from the pan before sliding down to the porcelain surface. In attempt to lick his lips at the now prepared food, his tongue grazes upon your skin, sending you to jolt a bit, hearing the joyous laughter from him as he places a kiss on the spot as an apology.

"W-why don't you go sit down, there's rice bowls and cooked eggs prepared already." stammering, you quickly excused yourself away from his embrace to clean out the mess from the counter. Gojo sighs out the adoration but obliges to your command. Not long after you had finally settled down in front of him. Seeing him in all smiles as he scarfs down on his food made you smile as well. Thank goodness his blindfold was off, they looked adorable twinkling in happiness.

This felt nice. To have an opportunity to be a normal couple once again. So many times you could only daydream of scenarios like this. He could say the same as now that you were present on the usual spot he'd come home to empty. Often dozing off during meetings thinking of where you were or how you were, the multiple times Megumi has fed up with his whining about how he never gets to see or have more time with you. Nobara even pointed out a fact saying, "You act as if you're both married." and Yuuji, being the happy child of the three had said something that always ponder in his mind, "Why don't you marry each other yet, sensei?"

It was a statement he's been considering for a long time. Marriage. Of course Gojo wanted to marry you after years of torment love. To have his precious students say that you both already looked as if you were married got him all heart racing, and very very happy. He's had vivid images of a life with you. Not far from what it is today, but imagine. Unlimited happiness after so long of fearing it. Perhaps maybe even tiny legs running around, giving him such big love as his grows for the family he's craved, watching you smile beside the doorway and calling them in for a meal.

If marrying you means he can have that every day, then the hell with it.

"You look like my wife."

The spoon drop echoes. Slowly his face erupted into a faint blush while staring back at your widened eyes and opened mouth. "What?" gulping down the stuck food in your throat, Gojo bites his lips watching you maintain your composure. So cute. "Y-you know you say funny stuff when you're out of it. Maybe some daifuku would help? Yeah! Wait a sec." quickly getting up from your seat and rummaging in your fridge, you breathed out the heavy puff of air from your lungs.

He did not just say that so directly towards you. Maybe you were dreaming? You wouldn't be if your heart wasn't practically being forced out. Gojo is always fun and games, right? He doesn't mean that.

Sad to think of it that way.

"Ow!" thumping your head above the fridge as you grabbed some of the take outs of Daifuku you got yesterday, closing the fridge back before returning shortly to Gojo, who seemed as out of it as you were. "You did say your brain functions best when you eat sweets. Luckily for you I bought these yesterday. That's why I cooked earlier now because I wanted to try it out with you!"

Gojo can't tell if he wants to be offended at the fact that you think he was joking or just now, cover his half of his face to hide his laughter and igniting squeals. God he wished he had his phone right now, the moment was just so priceless and precious as you were.

"...ter"

Muffles from behind his hand was heard. Tilting your head to the side, trying to process what he said but no avail. "What was that?" you moved a little closer next to him, tapping his hand away almost eagerly. When he does, you spot that knowing smile present on his lips and the uncharacteristic blush still painted on his cheeks.

"Keep doing that and I'll marry you faster, honey."

You've gotten more shy when his hand held yours in the most loving way while drawing patterns. Searching through his eyes if he was playing around, but you were met with ones you know of when they were full of sincerity. "I-i. You know, they were so cheap anyways and I figured you'd want them." he snorts before leaning his head on your arm and laughs hysterically. It was painfully obvious that you were in state of shock that you couldn't even process his words.

Up until now the effect he has on you was still there like before.

"Sweetie." he turns his body away from the table to face you, pulling you so that you were standing in between his legs looking down shyly on the floor. "I'm serious." his fingers reached for your chin to pull your head up to meet his features. His other hand still holding your smaller one; index finger tracing your ring finger in circular motions as if he was creating a make believe ring.

He should thank himself for falling in love and be trusting once again.

Because now, staring back at your eyes filled with the same amount of emotions as his. Reciprocating the exact thing he was feeling. Waking up just to start the day already wanting him to be there. Knowing all the littlest things he's shared. Hearing the erratic sound of both of your heart beats.

He knew he's made the right choice.

"You really do look like my wife. My future."

© all content belongs to mochikeiji. Please do not repost or copy, ありがとうございました!! (=^･^=)

[trickkombowerskru]

Runaway-Young!Sam Drake Imagine

Request: Anonymous:  Can i request a 18/19 yr old sam x reader where she ran away with him (both of them living in the orphanage at that time) after he was kicked out of the orphanage and it’s just them living in his small flat while they both work full time (reader at like a diner or something) thank you :D

A/N:  This request is literally a year old and I am so sorry for the long loooong wait anon. Thank you for waiting this damn long and being patient with me

Warnings: None

You sigh looking up at the ceiling, you got sent straight to your room by Sister Korine, you weren’t in trouble, but some of the girls tried to start shit with you, and they didn’t want you to be there as the girls got scolded.

Your eyes lit up as you see a flashlight in the distance, Sam. You two had always snuck out to see each other. Growing up at orphanages across the street together, ever since your first joint field trip you two had hit it off. 

At this point you completely and utterly trusted each other with anything, having learned essentially each other’s life stories throughout all these years. You’ve even had to look after Nathan a few times when Sam was out on retreat with some others, and Nate had to stay behind for whatever reason.

You knew you had about 10 minutes before the rest of the girls came back to the room and you intended to use every one of them. You flash back your other code and open the widow rumors had been swirling around and you needed to know what the deal was. 

“Hey,” he greets coming in, making sure not to fall on his face.

“Hey.”

“I know that face, what wrong?”

You sigh and just rip off the band aid.

“Is it true?”

“Is what true,” he asks playing dumb.

“Did you get kicked, you know when something big like that happens it spreads like wildfire.”

“Yeah, yeah they finally dropped me,”

“I mean I guess it was bound to happen sooner or later,” you joke.

“Where you gonna go?”

“I don’t know,” he responds.

A moment of silence falls between the two of you before Sam gets a sudden thought.

“Come with me,” he offers.

“What?”

“You and me. Screw everyone else. Let’s just go.”

“Sam I...”

“Think about it for a minute I mean do you have anything keeping you here?”

“You know the answer to that,” you tell him, breaking your eyes from his for a moment.

“Exactly so you should come with me. We could find a cheap apartment somewhere, and just live free. Adventurous! Spontaneous! Do whatever we want just because we want to! It’ll be you and me against the world!,” he hypes.

That was a good point, it wasn’t like you had friends or any family, and if you were going to live with anyone why not Sam. 

“Okay.”

“Yeah?” he asks with a grin on his face.

“Yeah let’s do it!”

He grabs you in a hug, picking you up and spinning you around,

“You should go tell Nathan,”

“He already knows I was kicked, I told him I’d sneak back to see him as much as I could,” Sam explains. 

“You should go, come back here at midnight and we can leave, I only have about 7 minutes left to pack until everyone gets here.”

Sam nods, starting his way out the window, he turns back to smile once more.

“I’m really glad we’re doing this,” he says.

“Me too,” you reply and honestly it was the truth, getting to have fun with your best friend, what more could you ask for?

You quickly pack your bags, shoving your suitcase out of sight and under your bed. You change into pajamas and decide to get a little sleep before Sam returns, as the rest of the girls return to prepare for bed as well. 

A few hours later you hear the window open, and shoot awake. You grab your suitcase and hand it to Sam, he moves it out side the building.

“You ready for this?”

“Hell yeah,” you reply.

He reaches his hand out and pulls you out the window.

You close it behind you and look to him.

“So how are we getting down?”

He laughs and swings his grappling hook, catching it on a structure nearby.

“I figured due to your bags, jumps were out of the question, so we’ll just slide down the rope. It’s not like the sisters are out here patrolling this late.”

“I’ll go first, then just toss your stuff down to me,”

“Alright,”

You watch him slide down, then throw your bag, following his lead.

And thus your adventure began, it was now six months later, Sam had made good on his promise and visited Nate in between his jobs, you had gotten a job as a waitress down at the local diner, and you two surprisingly worked up enough to afford a two bedroom place. 

Though small it was nice that neither of you had to sleep in the living room. Although today you wanted nothing more than to lie face down on the couch and scream. It was an absolute madhouse down at the diner today. You felt like you had been running around almost more than Sam on his jobs. 

Opening the door you do exactly that letting out a loud UGHHHHHHH noise, alerting Sam you were home.

“Well hello to you too,” he laughs.

“Sorry,” you apologize sitting up.

“Rough day?”

“So. Many. Customers. I didn’t even think we could hold that many people. ON the bright side I think I made enough in tips to cover next months rent,” you joke back. 

“Damn. Well I guess you win in the surprises today.”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, come outside.”

You follow him to see a nice new bike.

“Woah. Where’d you steal it from?” you ask with an eyebrow raise.

“She questions my honor,” he says sarcastically holding a hand to his chest, making you roll your eyes at his antics.

“No, but for real this is all hard work.”

“You’re new employer gave it to you for a job didn’t they?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t make it any less cool”

“No. No it doesn’t Now you can ride me into work everyday 

“Oh. Joy,” he says deadpan, making you chuckle.

“Oh please you’ll do it because you love me,”

“That I do.”

Sam takes a second looking at your lips, you both can feel the tension in the air. 

If you had to admit to yourself you kind of had gotten feelings for him a few months ago, you only pushed them away 

The two of you kiss and as absolutely ridiculous as it sounds, the rest of the world was gone, and it was just you and him in this moment. 

“Should we...” you trail off.

“Should we?”

“I mean do you want to?”

“Do you?”

“It’s like you said you and me against the world,” you reply kissing him again.

“Well looks like we have news for Nathan next time we go see him,” you joke when you pull away again making the two of you laugh.

You couldn’t wait to see what the future had in store for the both of you, and oh boy there was no way you could’ve possibly guessed the absolute craziness that would soon come into your lives either.

[the7thcrow]

indulgence | part one

~

pairing: felix x (fem) vampire!reader series

summary: an indulgence grows to become dangerous, as the society of hampden college takes note of y/n’s new blood bag.

series masterlist.

word count: 4.9k

genre: forbidden love, angst (sorta), fluff, suggestive.

warnings: blood, suggestive content (kissing and a shirt comes off, nothing too crazy lmao), hook-ups (but nothing is explicitly described), strong language, and vampires ofc.

rating: 16+

a/n: hi everyone! this is my first fic, so i’m sorry if it’s a little messy. this is part one of what will be a series. i’d love to hear some feedback, so don’t be afraid to shoot me an ask or message! i hope you enjoy!

...

..

.

You are late. The pattering of rain echos from atop your umbrella, the puddles of pooling water soaking your loafers as you hurry along the busy street. However, you pay no mind as the liquid seeps into your shoes, mud embedding itself along your pant leg. On a normal day, you’d scowl. You’d curse the shitty weather, and grumble as you marched home to change into a dry pair of shoes. Only today is different. Today it doesn’t matter, not when you have far greater troubles warranting your concern.

The Council isn’t pleased. They’d be even more upset, if that were even possible, if you arrived tardy. You can imagine their old, petulant faces, looking down on you with disgust. Perhaps even pity, seeing you as nothing more than a childish young girl, who’d been foolish enough to break her vow. You frown to yourself, that’s all they would ever see you as. It didn’t matter how the years passed by, to them you were, and would always be simply that. A child. Always younger, always naive. Most of all, always beneath them.

The headquarters becomes visible in the distance, clouded in the slight haze of fog. It appears to be like any other building on the Hampden Campus. Old and rustic, elegant in the way it was shaped and carved, a relic of history reflected in a modern day era. Only this building holds a far different tale than those surrounding it.

Far more bloody. Far more gruesome. A home to monsters.

Monsters like yourself.

You knock on the door. Twice, slowly. Then a pause, before three times quickly. A code, letting anyone inside know that you are, in fact, a member of The Society. 

The door opens with a creak, a young boy with electric blue hair peeking out through the crack. After recognizing your face, he smiles, ushering you in quickly as the door slams shut behind you.

“Y/N! It’s good to see you. It’s been a while, huh?” The boy says, casually leaning against the door. It has been a while, you never came to this god awful building unless it was absolutely necessary.

“I guess it has been. But it’s nice to see you too, Jeongin,” you speak warmly in return. You’ve known Jeongin for a couple years now, since he first arrived at The Society doorstep. Alone and confused. A freshling, having just been turned. While perhaps not physically, he’s certainly grown since then, in both confidence and courage.

Suddenly, the smile drops from his face, his expression becoming sullen. “I hear you’ve gotten yourself into some trouble,” he states. When you don’t respond, he continues. “It’s not true, is it? I know you wouldn’t-”

“Listen, Jeongin,” you cut him off quickly. You aren’t in the mood to be lectured, especially not by someone whose opinion you actually care about. “I’m already running late. I’ll catch up with you after, okay?”

“Wait, Y/N!” He calls after you, but you’ve already disappeared down the hall, heading towards the council room. You quickly cast a glance at your watch. Shit, five minutes late. They wouldn’t forget that.

With only a quick breath to gather yourself, you burst in through the large wooden doors. The silence in the council room is deafening, as all heads turn to face you. In all your life, you’ve never seen so many dissatisfied faces. 

“Ms. L/N,” the head councilman calls. He has an old face, embedded with wrinkles and a scalp of thinning white hair. Unlucky. He could have been beautiful, or at the very least, young. However, he must’ve been turned late. A pity, to stare at such a reflection for eternity. 

You stifle a laugh. The frown he always appeared to be wearing probably wasn’t helping. 

“Take a seat,” he states, motioning to the chair seated in the center of the room. How dramatic you think, to put you in the middle of so many staring eyes. While the council was only composed of three individuals, the room seems to be full of other lower ranked members of The Society. 

As you take your seat, your gaze wanders the room, landing on a familiar head of shaggy brown hair. His eyes bore into your own, his expression serious. Perhaps even angry, the longer he stares at you. 

You want to say something. Mostly, to ask him what the fuck he’s doing here. This isn’t any of Chan’s business, yet for whatever reason he has the audacity to stare at you as if it is. As if you will grant him answers. As if he deserves answers.

“Ms. L/N,” the chairman interrupts your thoughts. “Do you know why you’re seated here today?” 

Why are you seated here today? Well, that answer is complicated. How could you have possibly gotten yourself into such a mess? How could you have been so foolish? You knew the rules. You knew what was permitted and what was not. Yet, you chose to ignore these conditions.

Why? What could possibly have made you toss everything you’d promised to the side? 

Well, that story starts with a head of bright blonde hair, and a set of curious eyes.

~~~~

The library of Hampden College had become something of a second home to you. Late nights spent bent over a book, transcribing various philosophies and literature into latin. Sometimes greek, however you didn’t have quite the same knack for it. That’s where you found yourself tonight, your beaten down copy of The Iliad staring back at you from its place on the table. 

Your classics degree was coming along just fine. You didn’t mind the endless books to read and poems to analyze. Nor the papers you often found yourself crafting from this very spot in the corner of the library. It was always quiet, always solitary at this time. Even the night owl students having gathered their books, departing the library for a brief rest before their early classes the following morning.

Tonight however, was different. You heard the door creak open, glancing up as a boy appeared in the doorway. He had long blonde hair, fluffing at the nape of his neck. Sporting a sharp blazer and a pair of oxfords, you couldn’t deny he was well dressed. Perhaps that’s why he grabbed your attention immediately, you were attracted to effort. To someone who was put together, who cared. 

The boy took a seat just a few tables away from your own, gently setting his books down and disappearing into the maze of shelves to your left. You attempted to go back to your work, but couldn’t seem to find your focus. Who was this boy? You’d never seen him before in all your time at Hampden. Also, why would he possibly be at the library so late? You recognized the faces of those who while rare, might possibly be here at this time of night. He wasn’t one of them. 

You would remember if he was.

You strained your neck trying to find his figure, having lost him almost immediately.

“A fan of Homer?” A voice rang out from beside your ear. You jumped in shock, greeted by a sweet smile and wide eyes. The boy chuckled. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

You smiled sweetly, trying to calm your beating heart. “No worries. And well, you translate the entirety of Book Eight overnight into Greek, and tell me if you could still consider yourself a ‘fan of Homer.’”

The boy laughed before beginning to pull a chair out beside you. “May I?” He asked.

Looking back, you should have said no. You had a lot more work to do, and near no time to do it. Not to mention of course, rejecting him initially could have saved you from this whole mess. Instead you nodded, a grin forming at the corners of your lips as he sat down. 

“What’s your name?” He asked. His voice was sweet, sultry. Alarming in just how deep it was, not quite fitting his bright and youthful exterior. 

“Y/N, classics department. Yourself?”

“Felix,” he answered. There it was, the first time you heard the name that would cause your undoing. “I’m majoring in history. Listen,” he began, leaning in slightly closer as if he were going to tell you a secret, his voice lowering further. “I must say, I’m in here all the time, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”

You hummed, leaning in closer to him as well. His eyes glinted. “Well that’s simple, I’m assuming you don’t frequent the library at-” you glanced at your watch- “2:32 in the morning.”

Felix’s eyebrows furrowed with something like concern. “You’re here every night at this time? Why?”

“Hey,” you began, not wanting to lose the playful nature to the conversation. You’d heard enough concerned voices to last a lifetime already. “Aren’t you here this late yourself? You’re in no place to judge.”

He laughed, and you knew you could get used to that sound. “Fair enough, I’ll leave it be.”

“Why are you here this late, anyway?” You asked.

“Oh, so you get to know my secrets, but I can’t know yours?”

“Of course.”

He rolled his eyes playfully, resting his head on the desk, cradled by his crossed arms. “If you must know, I couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d read some of your classics, thought they might help me doze off.”

You shoved his arm, to which he feigned a groan of pain, clutching his shoulder. “Excuse you,” you laughed. “I have a lot of Homer to struggle through, and no time for your cheap shots. You can go ahead and leave now.”

You were surprised when he got to his feet, worried for a moment he’d taken you seriously and was actually about to make his exit. Instead, he disappeared into the philosophy section, emerging with a copy of The Odyssey. Felix flopped down back in his chair beside you, extending his feet on top of the table and leaning backwards. 

“Well, then I guess I’ll suffer along with you,” he said. Without another word, he flipped towards the first page.

Felix was a good person to study with. Well, technically you weren’t studying with him, but nonetheless it was nice to have him in the room. He didn’t bother you, didn’t speak, just let you do your work. Sometimes you’d look up and meet his gaze, his eyes imploring you. Curious. Mischievous. 

Dangerous.

“Alright,” you yawned after an hour or so had passed by, stretching your arms high in the air. “I’m done.”

He smiled, slowly closing his book and setting it down on the table. “Yeah? Finally going to go home and sleep?” 

“Sleep? What’s that?” You said, playfully scoffing. “Nah, it’s already past 3:30, it’ll be 4 by the time I get back to my apartment. Not worth it at this point.”

“Hmm,” Felix hummed, a flicker of mischief in his growing smile. “What ever will you do to pass the time?”

“I don’t know,” you returned, excitement building in your chest. “But I suppose I’ll leave you now. You still have about 3 quarters of The Odyssey to get through, and I don’t want to tear you away from-”

You shouldn’t have been surprised when his lips crashed into yours, but you were. You let out a small “mff” against the sudden impact. It took your brain a second to catch up to speed on what was happening. Here you were, with this incredibly beautiful boy of whom you literally just met, kissing in the middle of the library. 

Your second thought was about how you’d never done this before. Not kissing someone, hell you’d done a lot more than just that. But never a stranger, and certainly never a human, for that matter. You had to be careful with who you got close to, you never knew who could be dangerous, who could be a hunter. Besides, The Society had rules, and this alone was undoubtedly breaking a few of them.

So what the hell were you doing?

You should stop this, you thought. But the more you settled into a rhythm, the more your worries trailed from your mind. Felix was a good kisser. A really good kisser. His lips were soft, warm, his breath sharp with the taste of mint. When the dork had a chance to pop a tic tac you didn’t know, but it made you smile against him. 

You ran your fingers through his hair, leaning into him. He groaned in response, moving his hands down your figure, settling in on your waist. Carefully he began to fiddle with the buttons at the bottom of your blouse, and with that it all suddenly became real.

“We can’t do this,” you breathed, finally breaking away from him. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I went too far, I-” he began to apologize, frantically removing his hands from your body and shifting backwards into his chair.

“No,” you replied, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips at his sweetness. You grabbed the collar of his shirt, gently tugging him closer to you. “We can’t do this here.” 

The Society had rules, plenty. Human’s, in any sort of relationship, were out of the question. Public displays of affection with even your own kind, especially of the more vulgar sort, were off limits as well. The idea was to not bring attention to yourselves, to not cause a scene. And if you were going to break one of these rules so terribly, you figured you could at least pay the respect to do so privately.

“Okay,” he mumbled, placing his forehead against your own. “Where should we go?”

“My place? It’s a little far from here, but I don’t have any roommates. So..”

Felix smiled, planting a soft, lingering kiss at the nape of your neck. “Lead the way.”

~~~~

The walk over to your apartment wasn’t awkward per say, it was simply...charged. Felix had his arm looped around your own, making your way silently down the dark, lantern lit path through campus. You could feel your heart beating rapidly in your chest, a desire thrumming down inside you, resurfacing. It had been a long time since you’d last been with someone. That last person being Chan, your ex as of eight months ago.

Things had been good with Chan. Great even, in the beginning at least. He was intense, thoughtful. He loved you deeply. Most of all, Chan understood. Like you, he was a member of The Society. He was under every restriction you were, and felt all the same frustrations. 

Of course, not all good things can last. Eventually your relationship began to sour. Your arguments became full on brawls. Your differences and quirks became unbearable. You couldn’t be in the same room without being at one another's throats. You were the one who finally decided to end things. 

Chan was the only man you’d ever loved, and since him you’d never entertained the thought of being with another. Until now, that is. You glanced towards Felix, who was staring ahead down the street, his eyes dark. You could feel his own desire radiating off of him, visible in the way he slowly swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing. Besides, Felix could give you something more. Something Chan could never.

No. You stopped yourself. That wouldn’t be happening tonight. It would only make things more complicated, more dangerous. Still, you could feel it deep inside you, pounding for control. That familiar, incessant hunger. The more you tried to ignore it, the more it was there. Becoming stronger as your ears focused in on Felix’s heart beat, the sound of blood pumping through his veins.

You were pulled from your thoughts as the sight of your apartment complex appeared in front of you. Quietly you entered, making your way up the stairs and towards your own door. Releasing your arm from Felix’s, you fumbled for your keys in your purse. Giving him a small smile, you twisted your key in the lock, and allowed him inside.

The moment you closed your apartment door, all bets were off. Felix tossed his books onto your kitchen table, clashing into you with a speed that almost made you lose your own breath. You felt your back press against the wall behind you, Felix’s lips devouring your own. Desperate and wanting.

He quickly revisited the buttons of your blouse, this time starting at the top and beginning to make his way down. All the meanwhile his lips traced your neck, gently brushing against your skin. With every new kiss fueling your own desire, you slowly began to rock your hips into his own. This was escalating. Fast. As he finished with the last button, he allowed your blouse to drop from your shoulders, smiling to himself as he took you in. 

“Your turn,” you breathed, tugging at the collar of his shirt as a signal to take it off. He did so, absent-mindedly tossing it aside into your living room. He took your chin in his hand, forcing you to look up at him, staring deeply into your eyes. Then he proceeded to say the very last thing you ever expected him to:

“Look at your eyes… You haven’t fed in weeks, have you?”

You slapped his hand away and shoved him off of you, rushing to the otherside of the room, putting the coffee table between yourselves. “How-How do you?” You stammered, physically unable to form a complete sentence. How could he possibly know what you were? How did he even know you existed?

Felix’s eyes widened, clearly shocked by your reaction. “No, no. Don’t worry!” He said frantically, outstretching his hand to you. “Listen, I’m not going to hurt you or anything. I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry! I’m sorry.”

You stared at him, disbelievingly. “Yeah? And how do I know that?” You let this man into your home, your safe space. How could you have been so stupid?

“Look, I grew up around Vampires okay? My neighbors, back in my childhood home, they were like you. I know the signs. I know how your eyes blow out when you’re hungry, the way they glaze over when you haven’t fed in a while. That’s it. I didn’t even realize until I got a good look at you, back when you were translating. It’s no big deal, really.”

You scoffed. No big deal? Felix didn’t seem to realize just how big of a deal it actually was. Humans weren’t supposed to know what you were, certainly not at Hampden. The Society had made well sure of that. God, if The Council saw you now...

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I should have told you back at the library. I honestly didn’t think it would freak you out this much. That’s on me,” he said, inching slightly closer to you. Despite yourself, you didn’t move away.  “I’m serious though, it’s been a while since you last fed. Hasn’t it?”

A while was an understatement. The Society had been going through a shortage of blood bags, after having severed their connections with one of the nearby hospitals. Meaning if you wanted to drink, it would have to be from one of their Certified Donors. Which was another, fancier and far more innocent way of saying prisoners. These were humans who had given their lives to The Society, some willingly and others not so much.

You didn’t like going to their quarters. Located in the basement of the main district, it was always quiet down there. Always solemn. You’d never been to a place lacking so much hope. You’d only gone once, and drinking from that man still haunts you to this day. The way he didn’t move or speak, or even wince when your fangs broke his skin. The way his eyes were hollow and empty. How when you were done he simply laid down in his bed and turned away from you, without another word. 

The Certified Donors were what made you begin to hate The Society in the first place. Since then, your resentment only seemed to grow. 

You sighed, walking past him and flopping onto your couch. “Yeah, it’s been a while,” you confessed.

Felix carefully approached you. Instead of seating himself next to you, he got down on his knees, resting a hand on your thigh. “It’s okay, you can use me. I don’t mind.”

You were ready to tell him no, the word lingering on the tip of your tongue. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him. Perhaps it was your hunger, the fact that a few more weeks in this drought, you might actually become ill. 

Or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that you wanted to disobey the society. That this little act of rebellion, this utterly wrong indulgence, was what made your desire grow unbearable, unchained. You hated The Council, you hated the Certified Donor system, and you hated the way they had such a firm grip and control on your life.

A beautiful boy was seated in front of you, begging you to drink from him. How could you possibly say no? Better yet, why would you say no? To deprive yourself of something so great, for something you despised so deeply seemed ridiculous. That was the moment your judgment lapsed, that you crossed the point of no return. If you drank from Felix, there would be no going back. If the council found out, there would be consequences. Big ones.

But who doesn’t love a little risk?

You sunk down to meet him on the floor, staring at his bare chest. You could hear his heart pumping, its pace quickening the closer you got to him. 

“Are you sure about this?” You asked.

“Yes,” he whispered. You shifted your position. Not quite seating yourself in his lap, but hovering above, your knees on either side of him. 

“This might hurt a little bit,” you warned. You extended your fangs, approaching his neck, carefully. You didn’t realize until then how nervous you were. It had been a long time since you’d fed from a human. You’d drank from Chan of course, but he was also a vampire, and your blood didn’t have quite the same effect. There was pleasure in it, usually accompanied in moments of ecstasy, but it didn’t replenish you. It didn’t heighten your senses, nor fill you with energy. Most of all, it didn’t satisfy your hunger, your thirst. Not at all.

Felix’s blood would. 

You kept this in mind as you finally plunged your fangs into his neck. Felix let out a gasp, tensing beneath you, his hand clutching onto your arm for support. The taste of his blood grazed your tongue, metallic and warm. Delicious.

Fuck, did blood ever taste this good before? You didn’t think so.

The sweet taste consumed you. Intoxicating. Raw. Cascading over your mind in a blanket of pleasure, reveling in the way its effects seeped over your body. You could feel your mind growing sharper, your senses becoming more alert. It was a relief, after weeks of blurry weakness, of being too close to humanity in your thirst. You felt yourself again, the monster you are. The monster you are glad to be.

Here you were powerful. Invincible. And all you wanted was more. More. More.

More of this power, this sensation, this strength. This is what feeding should be. What feeding can give you. Not from a blood bag, nor a helpless prisoner, but from someone you want. Someone you desire. Someone who desires you in return.

It was as you felt Felix’s grip on your arm loosen that you finally broke away, breathing hard as you caught your breath. Felix’s eyes shifted to yours lazily, dazed. Perhaps even delirious. For a moment you feared that you’d taken too much. He blinked slowly, his eyes regaining focus.

Then he smiled. “Shit Y/N…” he began, his voice appearing more of a croak. “That felt really fucking good.” 

You grinned, leaning into him and pressing a series of kisses up along his jaw. Felix shivered, allowing his hands to slowly slide up your figure. Wanting.

“Yeah?” You whispered, your lips brushing against his ear. “Then how about we continue where we left off?”

      ~~~~

The next morning you woke to the sound of your alarm buzzing, sunlight peeking through the opening of your drapes. You heard a low groan next to your ear, quickly becoming aware of the hand wrapped around your waist. 

So last night really happened. The reality of your situation dawned on you. You’d both drank from and fucked a human. There was no going back now, you’d completely disobeyed The Society.

Worst of all? You didn’t care. At least, not near as much as you should have. 

You shifted to face Felix, seeing his eyes still closed, eyebrows furrowed. “Hey,” you whispered, planting a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. “We have to get up. I have class.”

He groaned again in protest, shaking his head and burying his face into the crook of your neck. Between last night's events and the ringing of your alarm, you both only got about two hours of sleep, and that was being generous. This was no problem for you, as while sleep was a luxury, it was not a necessity. The same didn’t go for Felix.

“Come on,” you laughed, worming out of his grasp. “You’ll be fine, I’ll go make us some coffee.”

You rolled out of bed, throwing on Felix’s discarded shirt and heading towards your kitchen. Flicking on the radio, you felt oddly blissful as you grounded the coffee beans into a filter. It had been a long time since there’d been another person in your apartment. It made the space seem less… haunted. No longer lingering with the essence of Chan’s ghost. It felt fresh. New. 

Felix emerged from your bedroom, rubbing his eyes sleepily, sporting only his khaki’s from the past day. His gaze met yours and he smiled. “So, I take it my shirt is yours now?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, leaning forward over your kitchen counter. Felix bent down, causing you to become nose-level with one another. The close proximity made your heart race.

“Mean,” he murmured, leaning forward to kiss you softly. There was no unchained desire, no promise of more. It was simple, warm. A morning of peace after a night of wildness.

You could get used to this, you thought.

The thought sunk in your chest like a stone. This wouldn’t be as simple as you wanted to be, as you needed it to be. There would be sacrifices to make, and cautions you’d have to adhere to. You had to get the truth out in the open. Better to rip the bandaid off now rather than later.

 “Felix, you can’t tell anyone about this.” You said. The smile faded from Felix’s face, and for a moment he looked so… hurt. He stepped back.

“About the feeding? Y/N, I wouldn’t tell anyone what you are, don’t worry about-”

“No, not just the feeding. About us. About any of it.”

Felix opened his mouth to say something, but then quickly closed it. His gaze hardened. “Ah. Got it,” he stated sharply, grabbing his blazer and motioning to the door. “I’ll just head out then.”

“Wait, Felix! No, it’s not like that,” you said, rushing around the kitchen island and reaching for his arm. He turned around to face you, his expression wounded. “Listen, I don’t know how it was with your old neighbors, but here at Hampden things are different. There’s certain rules we have to follow, and what you and I did? Well, that broke about a hundred of them.”

Felix was silent for a moment, then sighed. “Okay… But what do you mean rules? Who’s enforcing them? Hampden?”

“No, it’s bigger than that. There’s a group of us here, a society. There are rules we abide by, and they’re meant to keep us safe. Keep us united,” you explained.

“Like a cult?” Felix asked, and you had to refrain from rolling your eyes.

“Well, if that helps you, then whatever. Yeah, sure. A cult.”

“Where do you-”

“I’m sorry,” you cut him off. “But that’s all I can really tell you, at least for now. Honestly, the less you know, the better. Just for safety’s sake.”

“Oh. Alright,” Felix said, his lips pursed. He wasn’t pleased, that much was obvious.

“I know this sucks, I’m sorry. But if we want to keep doing this-”

“Wait,” Felix interrupted, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “You want to keep doing this? I thought you’d get in trouble?”

You smiled, and were pleased to see the corners of his mouth curve up in return. “I’ve already risked getting myself in trouble.” You trailed your finger along the bare of his chest, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin. He was so alive, so real. And it only made you want him more. Perhaps, that’s why he wanted you as well. You were unpredictable, wild. A challenge. 

A match made in hell.

“I dug myself a grave, Lix.” You looked up at him, entranced by the curiosity swimming in his eyes. “Might as well lie in it.”

~~

next chapter 

[oodlesofsnootles-main]

A little something I wrote for Bo-Katan Week, day 6:

****

She sets her helmet down on the control panel. It seems to stare back at her, phantom eyes peering out of the visor. Her own haunted, green eyes. Bo-Katan shakes her head, This trip is getting to her; when was her last decent sleep? Or conversation with an actual being? Luckily, she requires neither. She is just fine with her thoughts, as pulsating and plentiful as the stars ahead.

So when her com beeps, she hesitates to answer.

“Bo-Katan…”

“Bo…”

“Lady Kryze?…”

“Bo-Katan…”

“Bo…”

“Aunt Bo…”

That last one is a cheap shot. That little di’kut...

“What is it, Korkie?” she snaps, unable to ignore him any longer.

There is a long silence and she wonders if she scared him off.

“Well hello to you, too! If you didn’t wish to speak to me, you should’ve never given me your private—”

She softens her voice, just a little. “Hello, Korkie.”

It’s been at least two years since their last contact, she thinks, even longer since he appeared in front of her, travel-worn and weary, out of the blue. It was a shock; she expected him to be dead, certainly not alive and begging for forgiveness. “I must make amends for how I treated you,” he had pleaded, quite pathetically. He hadn’t done anything wrong. Her pain, her guilt, her blunt unveiling of secrets drove him away and she did not deserve forgiveness, from him or herself, she concluded. She knew little about her nephew, but it was at that moment she understood all she needed to. And they were not alike at all.

“What do you want?” She does not intend for it to sound harsh, yet it does. Her expression is far from harsh, though obviously he can’t discern that.

“I…I thought I’d see what you were up to.”

“What are you up to?”

Another long silence. “Nothing much. I got into a bit of trouble recently. Just a brief Imperial entanglement, but all is well now! It’s kind of a funny story, actually—”

She cuts him off, uninterested. “So this isn’t a plea for me to rescue you?” He is in his early twenties now, she realizes. Probably still thinks he’s invincible. She knows she believed the same thing, once.

“Nothing of the sort!” he laughs.

It is not a sound she’s familiar with. She assumes he was once a boy who laughed often, and has learned to do so again. She is stricken with envy over this ability. He’s not a boy anymore, she reminds herself, suddenly feeling old, tired.

“As I said, I’m only checking in on you.”

He is checking in on her? Shouldn't it be the other way around? She feels bad enough this evening, she does not need Korkie reminding her what a horrible aunt she is, too.

“We both want the same thing, Aunt Bo. There’s no need to be strangers. Or enemies.” He laughs again, a nervous tinge to it this time.

The same thing, yet by different means. He can forgive her and call her and act annoyingly cheerful, but they will always butt heads. Just like….

“Perhaps we can meet in person again? When our paths cross, that is. I’m sure they will eventually, especially since—”

“Fine, sure.”

“Wonderful!” he exclaims over some static, “a family reunion!”

The word family does it, sends her over the edge. He’s doing this on purpose, he’s twisting the knife, he’s wounding her from millions of light years away. He can dance around the subject and pretend to care about “Aunt Bo” all he wants, but they both know it was five years ago to the day.

“I’m not stupid, Korkie, I know why you called me, why you chose today. You aren’t as clever as you think.”

A small whimper, barely audible, transmits across the galaxy, to Bo-Katan’s ears. “She’s always on my mind, but today…I wanted to feel closer to her. Through you.”

She sits back, relaxes her hands, which had reflexively curled into tight fists. He isn’t trying to guilt her, or play some cruel game. He doesn’t blame her, not anymore. They have more in common than she assumed; they both still miss her.

A fire rages through Bo-Katan, an ever present one, but the flames rise higher now, threatening to burn unchecked. She wants to smash something, or scream, or at least end the call and never hear his cloying laughter ever again. She doesn’t; she is stronger than that now.

“I’m honored that you would say that.”

“You meant so much to her, you know? I hope you know. Anyway, I won’t push you, but if you have any stories you would like to share, from when you were young kids…it would mean the worlds to me, Aunt Bo.”

Something heavy catches in her throat. She wants to disappear into the stars but she refuses to. She still has work to do.

“Your mother would use her lilies to gather ants. She’d let them crawl onto the petals, and then bring them to a safe place in the gardens. Because she couldn’t bear for them to be stepped on.”

Korkie laughs again, this time accompanied by a sniffle, then another. “Thank you.”

Her nephew, who also lost everything, who still has nothing, seems whole again. Yes, there are pieces missing, but he carries on despite this.

If he could, maybe one day she can, too.

[firewoodfigs]

for the only one bed prompts......... "and only one pillow so a used b's chest or stomach" 🥺

EMMA, MY LOVE. FOR YOU I WOULD GIVE THE WORLD AND MORE <3 I hope you enjoy, friend!!! <3

also on ao3 - i like it when you sleep (for you are so beautiful yet so unaware of it)

                                      ++++++

She falls asleep on the car ride back.

It’s unusual, such behaviour. Ordinarily, she’d be keeping watch or the one driving, but throwing herself at wolves and flirting with married men (and tolerating her commanding officer’s unwarranted jealousy) is indescribably wearying. It’s even worse than military training, having to put up all these fake niceties and pretenses. She wonders how Roy does this every day. Maybe that’s why he’s so tired all the time, Riza thinks. Now she knows why.

She startles awake briefly when the car jerks. Riza mutters, unintelligibly, something about safety and watching the road. She dimly registers the sound of a murmured apology from the driver’s seat.

Riza nods, and drifts back uneasily to sleep.

(In her sleep, Riza dreams of a dimly-lit courtroom and of Lady Justice, so white and pure and glorious even in the shadows. It is a recurring dream of hers, but it still leaves her palms clammy and her heart racing, like she’s just pulled the trigger on someone for the very first time.)

—

“We’re here,” Roy announces.

Riza groans as she rouses from her nap. There’s an ache that’s starting to crawl into her head, and she wonders if she’s just had too much to drink earlier (she thinks she’s done a pretty good job of turning down the offers of free, expensive wine though). She rubs at her temples wearily, blinking hard in an attempt to dispel some of the lingering fatigue.

“Are you alright, Lieutenant?”

“Yes,” she answers, without hesitation. Riza straightens in her seat, smoothing out the creases in her outfit. It’s a fitting, champagne-coloured number that is as meddlesome as it is pretty. (Riza hasn’t worn something like this in a while, simply because there hadn’t been any occasion to. She thinks she’ll probably have a hard time getting out of it later.) She opens the door and stretches her legs out. “Let’s go, sir.”

“Alright.”

The motel is just like any other motel, Riza thinks. It’s old and musty and right in the middle of nowhere, managed by a receptionist who’s clearly half-asleep at their workstation. They check in under the guise of a civilian, childless couple, as usual. Elizabeth and Andrew Ditlev, yes, a room for two. We won’t be needing anything else, thank you. There’s the sound of keys jangling and paper notes rustling, and then she’s dragging her feet up the creaking stairs towards their room on the second floor, Roy’s hand hovering uncertainly over her back.

Riza nudges it away and reassures him that she’s just fine. (He continues fretting, anyway.)

—

It’s only after she’s taken a shower that Riza notes the irregularity in their room.

“Sorry,” Roy says. There’s a sheepish edge to his voice, but the way he’s grinning tells her that he’s not altogether unhappy about their current predicament. “I tried asking for another pillow, but reception said they’ve none left.”

Riza frowns. She moves to sit on the edge of the queen-sized bed, drying her hair with a thin towel. It’s not uncommon for them to share a bed; going on these undercover operations as a loving, married couple meant that it was only logical for them to do so. It’s not like she has anything against it, either, but she’s always maintained a distance from him, even while on the same bed. They usually sleep with their backs turned (although Roy has a peculiar habit of snaking his arm around her waist just before daybreak).

“Sorry,” Roy repeats, stifling a yawn. He’s already taken the liberty of going shirtless, while she was bathing. “You can take the pillow, if you’d like. I can go without.”

Riza shakes her head and gestures towards the shower.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll figure something out.”

He yawns again, dragging himself to the shower.

“Really, Lieutenant. It’s no hassle at all.”

Water starts running again, from the shower. Riza shifts towards the nightstand and picks up the phone. There’s a little note beside — press ‘0’ for reception and/or room service.

She does exactly that.

“What?”

“Hello,” Riza greets in response. “I’m calling from Room 204. We were wondering if you happened to have a spare pillow —”

“I already told you we have no more pillows,” the receptionist interrupts, groggily. Riza picks up on the poorly-concealed hint of annoyance and, somewhat annoyed herself, apologises insincerely for the apparent inconvenience caused. “Goodnight.”

The phone line goes dead.

Riza huffs. She puts the phone down and mutters something to herself about cheap motels and their stinginess. Resignedly, she fluffs the lone pillow and moves to lie down once her hair’s dry. (She thinks she’ll continue to keep her hair in a manageable bob like this, just for convenience’s sake — even if Roy prefers it otherwise.)

“Lieutenant,” he calls, sounding scandalised. Riza cracks an eyelid open and stares at him, as if to say, what? (She still has no idea how men do this so quickly, even after all these years in the military. It barely takes more than a minute for them to finish their ablutions, even though their bodies are nearly twice the size of hers. Thrice, if she’s including people like Major Armstrong in the count.) “What are you doing?”

“Sleeping. Or trying to.”

Roy makes a sound of disapproval as he dries himself (Riza turns away respectfully at this) and puts on his pajamas. She feels his weight on the mattress once he’s done, and when she refuses to budge from a spot he starts poking her from behind, like a needy child badgering their parents for an impossible gift (she doesn’t even remember behaving like this as a young girl).

Riza groans and rolls her shoulders. “What?”

“I told you to take the pillow, Lieutenant.”

“I told you it was fine.”

He clucks his tongue. Roy rolls her around to face him, and she bites her lips to stifle another groan.

“Stubborn as always, aren’t you?”

“Pot, kettle,” Riza murmurs wearily. She can barely keep her eyes open at this point, much less keep up with his nonsensical, baseless arguments. “Go to sleep, sir.”

Roy tries, vainly, to slip the pillow under her head a few minutes later, but Riza elbows him in the ribs and pulls the blanket over them, effectively ceasing the argument. He huffs petulantly and closes his eyes.

—

“Trouble sleeping?”

“No,” Riza mumbles, but it’s a lie. She knows that he knows it’s one. (It’s no secret that both of them have had trouble sleeping since the war.)

“You’re lying,” he says, though not accusingly.

Riza ignores him and clutches a handful of the motel’s standard-issue white blanket. She covers her eyes with them and tries to sleep, again, but she fails spectacularly at this otherwise simple task. There’s just something about motels and their pastel walls and background music that tends to set her on edge. Maybe it’s because it’s so unlike what she’s used to. (She’s fallen asleep to the sound of gunshots and explosions, more times than she has to Debussy.) Or maybe it’s the fact that she’s no longer sleeping on a single-sized bed, by herself.

“Are you sure you don’t want the pillow?”

“No.”

“Stubborn as ever,” he mutters. She thinks he’s given up on fighting a losing battle, when she feels his arms pulling her close.

“With all due respect —”

“Nothing inappropriate, Lieutenant. I promise you.” She struggles to free herself from his grip, but clearly, all the work he’s been putting at the gym lately has paid off. Riza glares at him, murderously. He simply grins. “Since they ran out of pillows, we’ll simply have to make one.”

“What, with alchemy?”

“Actually, that doesn’t sound entirely implausible.” Riza is about to push herself off his chest, when he tightens his grip around her. “But it’s late, and I’m tired, and besides, we’re supposed to be an ordinary couple, nothing else.”

The word rolls off his tongue infuriatingly. Riza gets the peculiar feeling that he’s enjoying this far more than he should be. She frowns, glancing at him from beneath her lashes.

“I do tend to move around a lot in my sleep, sir.”

“I know.” He shrugs against her, positioning her head so that it’s resting comfortably on his chest. Then Roy wraps his arms around her again, almost gleefully, uncaringly, as if there’s nothing inappropriate about their shared embrace. Riza huffs. “But it’s fine. Anything to help my favourite subordinate sleep.”

“How very kind of you, sir,” Riza mutters drily. She attempts, somewhat furtively, to tickle him - she knows all his weak spots by now - but Roy dodges it with surprising agility, like he would a bullet.

“Of course. Please make sure to give me a good performance review when the time comes,” he says, smirking in a way she can only describe as insufferable.

“Only if you stop drooling all over your desk.”

“For the record, I do not,” he says, with an injured sniff.

Riza rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t protest further. She won’t admit it aloud, but it’s nice, being held like this. Roy is unusually sweet in a way that he isn’t anywhere else. He hasn’t been this way since they were kids.

“Yes, you do,” Riza retorts softly, ignoring the lump in her throat.

(This scene is achingly familiar, like a vignetted memory, like an excerpt of a film she already knows the ending to. The ending is always the same in her dreams.)

Laughter rumbles from his chest. It is a lovely sound to hear, after a long day of work, but it rubs against her cheek ingratiatingly, and Riza makes a mental note to write a letter to the hotel when they’re back in the city — a not-too-gentle reminder to stock up on pillows and other necessities.

“We can save this argument for another time, Lieutenant. It’s two in the morning.”

Riza relents, because it is two in the morning. She thinks sleep should claim her now, rather than later; she’s been trying to cut down on her caffeine intake lately. But Roy starts stroking her hair, and then her back, like he’s trying to lull a child to sleep, and Riza has to swallow the satisfied hum lurking in her throat (she refuses to give him any satisfaction of knowing that she is, in fact, enjoying this, far more than she has any right to).

Riza clears her throat. She pushes his arm away.

“I’m not a cat, you know.”

Laughter, again. The caressing stops. She feels him pressing a kiss to the top of her head, and then he’s hugging her again, one arm resting languidly on her side like she’s some sort of a replacement bolster.

“I know. Goodnight, Riza,” he says, softly.

She doesn’t have the heart to remind him that they’re still on a mission.

“Goodnight,” Riza whispers. There’s a part of her that aches, yearns for this moment to be something more than a(nother) fleeting, stippled memory, but her bliss is abruptly broken by the commotion coming from upstairs — something about an adulterous affair and impecuniosity.

Riza shifts uneasily and tries to drown it all out by focusing on his heartbeat instead. It’s audible beneath her cheek — not quite like a lullaby, but close enough — just a gentle hum of life, enough to quell her frazzled nerves and lull her back into peace.

When she falls asleep at last, Riza dreams of something different, something that stems from her deepest desires.

(In her dreams, she’s in a white dress, and Roy is radiantly alive in a sunlit attic.)

[a-froger-epic]

Interview with a Queen “groupie”

Cross-posted to AO3. I encourage you to leave any comments you have there.

---

I compiled this interview following a long email exchange with J, a very sweet lady who went to Ealing Art School between 1972 and 1974. She knew all four members of Queen personally and was part of their larger circle of friends.

First off, you may find this hard to believe. I don’t blame you. But I assure you I’m not pulling your leg. As well as the pictures I share in this post, I have seen current pictures of J (which I will not share to protect her privacy). There is no indication as far as I am aware that she isn’t who she says she is.

Nastally, hold up. How exactly did you find this lady?

She found me. It turns out that she has been following my story Dawn of Aquarius for quite some time. The story is set in 1969. A lot of research about the era went into it, because I wanted to portray that time period - and Freddie’s and Roger’s surroundings - as accurately and realistically as I possibly could. That was what drew J in. She tells me it brought back a lot of memories for her. One of the reasons I love DoA so much is the nostalgia, she says, which genuinely means the world to me. Eventually, she talked to me in the comment section. Of course, I freaked out!

And then, I asked her for an interview, to which she replied: I will give it a go, but you must remember that I am 65 and there were great drugs in the 70s, and at 16, away from home, I had a lot!

And so...

Here’s what is IMPORTANT TO KEEP IN MIND when you read this interview.

These are one woman’s 50-year-old memories and subjective impressions. J has been incredibly kind to let me pick her brain, trying to recall everything as best as she can. In her own words:

Just remember that when I answer the questions, it is from a 16-year-old who is 9 years younger than Freddie and a little girl with no family and friends in a strange country trying to fit in. The only reason I was there, was because some hippie thought I had a unique art style.

---

J as a teenager.

[I have edited the interview together from our long, and somewhat messy at times, email exchange. Typos have been fixed and some punctuation added for clarity, but I have not changed anything J has written to me. Again, bear in mind these are personal opinions and impressions.]

So, J, how did you end up at Ealing Art School in 1972 and what was it like?

This was the painting done for the Australian school-leaving certificate.

It placed first and gave me a scholarship. I could pick France, the USA or England. As a dual citizen of the UK, the choice was easy. The scholarship paid for board and fees, so had to be and sell whatever for spending money.

This picture is from the dorm. We all had a 10pm curfew and a very thick rule book that, I am proud to say, I broke every one of them, one by one. The rooms were on the 1st and 2nd floor. We were on the first floor, rooms one side and admin staff the other end. We had two bathrooms for 18 girls. One of them had two baths. The walls were your standard half wall, so it was a given that if you had a bath you run the risk of having a bucket of cold water dropped on you. Downstairs was the kitchen and lounge room.

I want to ask you a few things about life in London in the early 70s, to get a picture of what it was really like. For example, was there alcohol at the music gigs you went to?

If it was a school, church or community hall, no. If it was a pub, yes.

Did you and your friends drink as much then as young people tend to drink now when you all went out?

No, we didn't. I think it had a lot to do with money. We didn't have the disposable income, and it was unheard of to still be living at home with the parents after the age of 20.

Was weed and LSD as big and easily accessible as depictions of the 60s and 70s would have us believe?

The drugs! Got to have drugs. Pot (weed) was easy to grow, very cheap. Used to smoke it in bongs rather than joints, more bang for your buck. Trips [LSD] were cheap, I think. About 2 pounds and you were on the high for over 24 hours with no sleep. My drug of choice was hash. Either the oil or the block. It was a nice high, but you could not function well. But if you listen to the music of the time it really does reflect what it was like, to have a group of friends over for a session. Having said all that the most outlandish and shocking drug I ever saw anyone use was the birth control pill. Didn't you have to hide that stuff away?!

Can you tell us some 70s slang that isn’t really in use anymore? What in the world does “ultra-blagging” mean? (As written in a letter penned by Freddie to his friend Celine in 1969.)

Abso-bloody-lootely!

Man, I thought I was the bees knees to be on a scholarship in London. But that didn't stop me from jigging or having a skive day. They were the days that I blagged my way into a pub, had too many lagers and ended up chundering in the gutter. That was how you knew your night was ace. I would get a right bollocking if anyone found out. It would be a bugger when all that you could find at a car boot sale was chavtastic, but sometimes you could be Jammy Dodger and tickety-boo you find something brilliant. Bob's your uncle. Anyways, I need to see a man about a dog.

[It seems to me that J uses a bit of Australian slang here, like chundering, which makes sense because she is, after all, Australian. She also provided the translation:]

Cheers

J

It would be my honour.

I felt very privileged to be given a scholarship that let me study in England. But being so young and having no family to guide me, it was often tempting to not turn up or give a false excuse for being sick. (I had a lot of food poisoning). These would often happen if the night before I had been drinking beer and ended up vomiting outside the pub. But in my young mind that was a good night. If any of the teachers found me drinking I would be in a lot of trouble. Often I would have to say I was holding it for someone else. Not having much clothes with me, I would buy them second hand from church jumble sales or other students and, yes, Kensington market (the market). Some of the stuff would not be very tasteful or in good condition. But sometimes you would find something that was cheap and in good condition. I will stop this text now as I must go to the toilet.

PS: Ultrablagging sounds very Freddie. Blagging was used, but not ultra, meaning to persuade someone to do something or act better than you are. They were always rock stars.

Sincerely

J

[It was at this point that I realised I was talking to an absolute legend. She also told me then that the majority of her old photographs had sadly been lost when her house was flooded in 1988, including most of the photographs from her stay in London. Noooo! :(]

When you went out to dance, did you have only live music? Were there DJs yet?

You know, that is hard. We did not have a DJ. Sometimes there would be a band. Often we looked for places with a band or the jukebox. I think pubs closed at 10pm and some stayed open to 12 or 1, but public transport stopped at 9. So if you had not arranged a lift then you had to make the last bus. Most of the time we would be heading back to someone's place to get stoned and then crash there. In the morning you would have to work out where you were. When I got back to Australia, the discos were all the rage. They could have been in London too but it was not cool to like disco.

How many people would show up to Queen’s gigs when they played in pubs or at, for example, the Imperial College?

Depending on the location and the night: 10 to 1000!

So how did you first meet the Queen boys?

I was at the pub talking about a band we saw last week when Brian stuck his head into our booth telling us he knew a better one. Thinking about seeing them at the stall... Roger not often, Freddie quite a lot. Often on different stalls, I think that is why I can't remember the name. [The name of the stall. Other sources confirm that Freddie also worked at Alan Muir’s stall, for example, selling shoes.]

How well did you know them?

Just looking at your tumblr account. [she has had a look at my blog, where somebody asked if ‘groupie’ meant she had slept with the band] No, I never slept with the boys. I would not say I was a close friend, but I started at Ealing Art College in ‘72 and moved in the same circles. I loved the music and could be called one of the first groupies. I had to sneak into the pubs because I was 16. Roger always teased me for being so young. They all did seem to be one very large family, not just the band. It was a group of about twenty regulars, both male and female. Everyone knew that Fred was too gay to function. We were all at the gay rights march in London in 1972, had to run after the march. Lots of sharpies [Australian slang: youth gang, thugs] wanting to bash us. Back then I was in every protest that was going, student union rights, even the secretary protest. Just part of the times, stick it to Man or Woman. I left London in ‘74 for Australia, been here ever since and lost track of the boys but have never stopped being a fan.

What do you remember about them? How would you describe their personalities?

Don’t let the trolls hate me, but I did not like Brian. I found him to be rather full of himself. Space was a subject you never brought up around Brian or you would die of old age before he stopped talking. He was always the first to speak and start a conversation and then quickly passed you off to John, who was always tired and shy. Roger was also quite shy at times. He was very self-conscious of his looks, as he felt being pretty, nobody would take him seriously. Fred, well, he was not yet the big star, so I think he was working on his stage persona. When talking to groups at parties, he had the best stories of things that had happened to him or close friends. They were very funny and very descriptive. He was the life of the party. When he had a few to drink or was the centre of attention, he would take a cigarette out of the closest person’s hand and start smoking. Now remember this is the point of view of a 16-year-old girl that was a fish out of water, trying to fit in and not having much worldly experience.

It is said that Freddie and Roger were very stylish. How did they dress in everyday life?

Fred would do his hair and makeup to check the mail. Yes, he was always turned out, but so were a lot of people. Freddie did go over the top with hats, scarfs and jewellery. With Roger, it is a surprise he was able to have kids his jeans were that tight. And his shirts were always open unless he was in a jumper. I think it could have been so that you knew he was male, as it was the start of the unisex clothing. When I travelled out of London I realised it was a London thing. When I got back to Australia everyone thought I was a show-off.

There are some disagreements about how tall especially Freddie was. I know this is a difficult thing to try and remember accurately. But do you remember?

Freddie was taller than me but everyone was. Roger was shorter than Fred, but I never saw Roger in platform shoes. I did meet up with the band by chance at Sydney airport in 1984, said ‘hello’ but they did not remember me, or if they did then they did not say anything and I did not want to be a dork. At that time Fred was the same height as me (5ft 8in/1.72m), Roger was taller than me. It made me think at the time that he had a growth spurt! John was shorter than me and Brian has always been tall. [I have a feeling the platform shoes - or lack thereof - played a vital role here! Although 172cm for Freddie seems likely.]

You said everyone knew Freddie was “too gay to function”. Attitudes towards homosexuality have changed so much that it can be hard for us, now, to fathom what exactly people must have thought of him. Was it more of a joke that he was so camp? Was it something he would have been teased for? Also, he had a girlfriend. Did you ever meet Mary or the other girlfriends?

In 1972 a whole group of us - and I am pretty sure that Fred, Roger, Brian and Tim were there - were in a gay pride march. [Since then, J has found and showed me a picture of a boy she thought was Tim Staffel, and it wasn't, so Tim was most definitely not there. Whether Freddie, Roger and Brian really were there or if J is misremembering, who knows?] Us youth believed you could not choose who you fell in love with and if it was same sex, so what? However, if it was two girls then it was every guy’s duty to change her!

It was also a time that the gayer the guy was, the more the girls were interested. Also, if a guy was gay then you did not have to worry about him and he was a good person to take with you if you were going out drinking. However, the police, parents, teachers and anyone of authority were horrified and treated them badly. I did meet Mary a couple of times at pubs and once after a gig. This is just my opinion, but I found her a bitch. It could be that I was so young. It could be that I was very Australian. It could be that she felt threatened as my accent was a magnet to people around. And the boys (Queen) were no exception. Brian had a cousin in OZ and was always asking questions. I remember that my close group of friends thought that Mary made the perfect girlfriend for Fred as they were as fake as each other. Having said that about them, I often wonder if I would think the same now and if my perceptions were just because she would not give me the time of Day. Chrissy and Jo were a lot of fun.

This was before your time, but I read that Freddie's nickname at Ealing Art School was ‘Freddie Baby’. Any ideas how this came about? His showmanship or maybe personality traits?

I don't think so. There were an older crowd that would talk like that. I think the slang ‘baby’ was a 60’s thing, like groovy baby.

How long, roughly, did Roger and Freddie have their stall? I can't find anywhere when it closed down. What did it actually look like? Was it a sort of wooden stall type of thing? Or an actual room? What were some of the other things people sold at Kensington Market? Mostly clothes or all sorts?

The markets were little divided shops. The back was brick and the walls wood. I have been trying all day to remember the name. [Of the stall.] I think it was something hard to say. More often than not it would be Freddie's dad in the store. It was still open when I left. Roger and Freddie were both in the store on Saturdays and some Sundays. There was a girl, I think Jill, who was in the store more. And during the week it could be anyone. You name it and you could get it at the markets. Second hand or designer clothes, shoes, jewellery, pot and assortments. Hair cuts, food, bric-a-brac.

Wait, wait. What? Freddie’s dad? Really now?

Yeah, it was an older Indian man. so we just assumed it was his father. It was my understanding that he started the stall then the boys would work it as the whole markets were set up for younger people, but if needed he would work there. I don't think the boys would be able to pay the rent on their own. [I have since found out that the stall closed in late 1971, and Freddie continued to work at the Market until '74, for Alan Mair and possibly others. So the stall J witnessed wasn't their original stall - explaining all the different people she saw there - but she had no way of knowing that it wasn't.] They always had incense burning that was very big in the 70s. I still occasionally bring out the sticks, but it does not last like the candles and diffusers of today. If you could get in touch with Robert Daniels, he ran ChaChaDumDum it was the stall across from Freddie. He would know the dates.

[J says it’s this look, in a picture she happened across while looking at my tumblr] Yep, that is the one. It usually means that he does not believe or agree with something that was said and is working out how to respond, or he has lost the plot.

You mentioned Roger seemed shy to you at times. Was he also quite charming? We read a lot about what a chick magnet he was. Was this the impression you had?

My favorite subject! I had a thing for Roger. Everyone has a type and mine is the blue-eyed blond. Now, before you ask, was he brunet? No, he was a mouse/dirty blond. If it was summer he would have blond streaks mostly at the ends. He knew he was pretty and was always dressed in the latest fashion and had the current hairstyle. So, being my type I was constantly watching him. Everyone slept around during that time. I did not notice Roger doing it more or less. 80% of the time he was with Jo. Yes, he was a chick magnet, but he did not do the chasing. He was always very polite to everyone. If it ever looked like there would be any conflict he would be the first to leave it. It was not that he was a coward, just not into conflict. If he saw anyone that needed help he was right there, and often had to have Freddie's back. I never saw him in a fight. He could always talk his way out of things. He was also very patient and would listen for hours to other people talk. However, he would get this vacant look in his eyes at times.

And Freddie would either click his fingers, change the subject or just give up. I don’t think that Brian noticed, and it would be fair game for John, he would see how far he could push it. Roger liked to drink a fair bit and when drunk he would be hanging all over Jo. If she was not there then he missed Jo. If, however, he thought that he or his friends were not being respected, then look out! It was a verbal volcano heading your way. That is what happened to me one time. I was trying to talk with my friends close to where a drunken Roger was and I yelled at him to shut the hell up, you wannabe blond. We/I coped a mouthful back, all in the same sentence, that finished with: Sorry, I didn't realise you were on your rags (period)! I have to have the last word, so I told him the truth: I don’t get them yet! (I was a late starter.) He went so red in the face and called me JB [jail bait] from then.

You also mentioned Roger’s cat Ziggy having kittens. I read about this but never when exactly it was. Do you remember?

I think it was winter ‘73. I remember being cold when he was asking around the pub. [To find homes for the kittens, I gather.]

Is it quite strange reading fictional interpretations of real people you knew? When did you first find out there was Queen fanfic?

No, we used to make up stories about people all the time, a verbal fanfic. Was looking up Adam Lambert and came across the fanfics. Some had me in stitches! Others, like DoA, had me hooked.

Please, allow me to be a little self-indulgent at the end. What's one thing I got totally RIGHT in DoA?

All the Ibex stuff.

What's one thing I got totally WRONG in DoA?

Roger did not have a temper, and I don’t know what the go with his father was, but he would talk about him quite a bit and was always visiting his mum. [Absolutely fair, not only did I change the timeline of Roger’s parents divorce in DoA - for lack of information at the time - but also created a completely fictional narrative around it for the sake of storytelling.]

J, thank you so much for all this, sincerely. Can you tell me a little more about yourself? Are you still an artist?

I don't paint or draw any more. At the age of a 50 the doctors operated on an aneurysm or three, and now my eyesight is very bad, I have no fine motor skills and a tremor. I was married in January 1984 and have just celebrated our 37 year anniversary. I have one daughter who is 30 and two great, although tiring grandkids. A girl, 11, and one boy, 5. I have lived my life as the average middle class Australian with great memories. Talking with you has helped me a lot to remember a time when the world was mine for the taking. When I returned to OZ I started nursing, met my best friend, and we planned that once we graduated we would go back to London to study midwifery. But I fell in love instead.

J's wedding in 1984. As you can see, she found her own blue-eyed blond.

---

Upon request, J has shared some of her past and present artwork with me.

These are from her time at Ealing Art School:

These were done later, back in Australia:

J: Did this just before Christmas as you had inspired me. It did not require fine motor skills!

So there you have it! I hope you found this little glimpse through a 16-year-old girl’s eyes as much of a fascinating read as I did. I urge everybody one more time to remember that J did not have to share any of this, and I think we all owe her a big thank you for delving into her memories. She is likely to see the responses on AO3, so I have comment moderation enabled there as I will not let anybody harass this lovely lady. The tumblr she created is @since72, but she isn’t really an active user and also very new to it all. Again, I can only urge everybody to be respectful.

If you have other burning question for J, feel free to leave them in the comments on AO3. I will either pass them on, or she may want to reply to them herself directly.

[mp100fanworkstranslation]

Better than when you found it -PART 1-

A Complete Doujinshi by Maruta

This book was published in 2016, and currently out of print.  PANELS READ RIGHT TO LEFT

-Flashback-

We’ve got an overnight job? 

Yep

It’s an apartment. According to the landlady, no tenant has lasted for more than three days. We’re going to stay there and look into what’s going on with the place. 

The tenants talked about seeing an evil spirit, but it could just as well be a curse. The other tenants are spooked as well. 

Anyway, this Friday after dinner, all staff will gather at the office and we will head out to the site. 

-The Present-

Reigen stands at the door fiddling with the keys: Eh !? 

Hurry up and open the door!

Master..

Ah, I’ve got our things

Okay, I’ve gotten the door open, Mob, you can go on ahead

Okay

Ugh...

Reigen: Before we go in, I want to go over a few things we should all be aware of. Our onsite investigation here will last three days and two nights....

Anything we do, we do in pairs. We have a strong team, and I don’t think we’ll have a problem, but we still have to take the utmost care to avoid being possessed by the evil spirit that resides here. 

Also, no one will hog the bathroom....or any other part of the unit,

Alright then! 

Let’s go Mob! You’re Up!

Mob: Oh... It’s me again...

Serizawa: Mr Reigen, should you not be the one to enter first, since you’re our......

Reigen: Okay, Okay....

Mob says as he enters the room: Sorry to disturb.....

Mob: Wow, this is cleaner than I expected. 

Reigen: I think the movers did a thorough job. It’s far cleaner than my place to be honest.

Ekubo: Why are you telling us this? It’s not like we’ve ever been there. 

Reigen: Yeah, It’s a corner unit, It’s got a bathroom separate from the shower, and rents for 200 dollars a month. 

Serizawa thinks: This is a really nice unit. It’s a shame it’s a Jiko Bukken only 200 dollars a month.... 

(In Japan, if something bad happens in a house, such as a death, or a murder there’s a belief the space is tainted by the event. So it becomes really difficult to rent the apartment out. Often the ONLY way to rent it out is to offer it super cheap.)

Ekubo and Mob thinks: There’s something here....

There’s a click as Ekubo opens a closet

Ekubo: Huh? There’s a folding bed here. 

He looks at Mob

Ekubo: So... Are we all going to fight over the single bed?

Reigen: No, Mob, you take it. 

Mob: I’m more comfortable sleeping on a floor futon. Maybe Ekubo or Mr Serizawa can decide? Rock paper scissors? 

Ekubo vs Serizawa, Rock Paper Scissors.

After many MANY rounds, there is no winner so they decide all sleep on the floor. Reigen is setting the alarm clock.

Mob thinks: It feels like a school trip for some reason, without the part where we talk about crushes. The others are all grown men.

Reigen: Hey we should tell fun stories! 

Serizawa: Yeah!

Reigen: You go first Mob! You’re the youngest. 

Mob thinks: Eh... what? Why am I always going first? 

Mob thinks: Something fun.....

Mob: When I was little, there was a takoyaki stand at the intersection near my house. Me and my brother often went there together.

We were very small then, but I still remember it clearly.

Tiny Mob: Takoyaki!

Tiny Ritsu:  Ya-ki

Mother: You want some? 

 Mother gives Ritsu some money. 

Mother: Here, take this. Don’t lose it. Split it with your brother.

Ritsu: ~kay

Mother: RITSU WAIT..WAIT

No, not like that! That’s not how you split it! 

Mob: That was the first time Ritsu got yelled at. I think it traumatized him, because he wouldn’t use paper money for a long time. 

All the Adults: ITS SO CUTE (Look at these dudes, overcome with the cuteness, haha)

Ekubo: Haha, never thought Ritsu would have a story like that. I thought he just liked coins so he could flick them at people. He seems the type. 

Mob: Actually, I recently got a wallet for him for bills. He accepted it but looked somewhat horrified.  

Ritsu: Th....Thank you brother.  Mob thinks: Please don’t take this the wrong way.

Ekubo: Okay, it’s my turn! Mine’s also about Ritsu! 

Serizawa thinks: Looks like a Ritsu bashing session is starting

-Elsewhere, Ritsu loses it-

Ekubo: He slipped on the ice outside of that new pharmacy, and was just flailing around for like nine or ten minutes.

Everybody is laughing. 

Some time passes and Reigen notices that it’s almost midnight. 

Reigen: Okay everyone, we should call it a day.

He burrows into his pillow and tries to sleep, but the others are still talking....

and talking...... and talking.....

GO TO SLEEP! -He throws a pillow into everyone’s faces.

This is one of Reigen’s special moves, where he accurately pitches a pillow into the faces of multiple opponents at once, shutting them up simultaneously.

(This doujinshi came out before the OVA, where he tries to start a pillow fight. Impressive that the author called it.)

Ekubo: WHAT THE HELL! 

Reigen: WE HAVE TO GO TO SLEEP NOW

Ekubo: WHY CAN’T YOU JUST TUNE US OUT AND SLEEP YOURSELF!

Reigen: ARE YOU KIDDING? YOU GUYS ARE SO LOUD

Serizawa: Um....Let...Lets please stop fighting. 

As Serizawa attempts to break them up, a shadow creeps along the wall behind him. 

Some time passes and everyone is asleep. Reigen is smoking on the balcony. The door opens behind him. 

Reigen: So... are you also the type that has trouble falling asleep on an unfamiliar pillow? 

Serizawa: N..No... I’m just feeling a little too excited to sleep.

Mr Reigen, you smoke? -ah no, I don’t want one.-

Reigen: Yeah, I have one now and then. I don’t smoke when Mob is around. 

Serizawa: Um..... I.....

I....I’m really happy about today.

Reigen: eh?

Serizawa: For a long time, was convinced that a real job would be too much for me. The stress, the pressure, the fatigue. That I’d always have something to complain about. I thought that was what it would be like.... 

-Claw out in public-

Serizawa: In many ways, my time at Claw was interesting....but now Kageyama senpai is my friend, and also my superior. Mr. Reigen is the boss. Ekubo is the first friendly spirit I’ve ever met.

But.....

Serizawa: This is the first time I’ve ever had an outing with people that I could call my friends.  I..... Im so happy, I don’t know how to express that. 

(Again, this book came out 2 years before the OVA)

It’s unprofessional, I know. I.... I guess I still have a lot to learn.  

It’s nice isn’t it? Don’t sweat it... you’re one of us. 

Serizawa: TH..THANK YOU VERY MUCH!

Reigen: Heh... it’s fine now, though you might want to tone down that excitement if we’re out in public. 

-The Next Day-Things start getting serious.

To be continued- 

This comic is about 30 pages and will be translated in parts. Check the table of contents for updates.

I love this comic. Team Spirits and Such is four dudes that are lonely in their own different ways, and it’s so great to see them just do stuff together, hang out and just be the friends that they all so desperately need.  

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS LOST EDEN SKiT Dolce Tokuten Drama CD ”Diabolik ★ Share House ~ The Younger Brother’s Independent Lifestyle~”

Original title: ディアボリック★シェアハウス～弟たちの自適生活～

Source: DIABOLIK LOVERS LOST EDEN SKiT Dolce Tokuten Drama CD [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Takashi Kondou, Kimura Ryouhei & Morikubo Shoutaro

Translator’s note: This CD has been on my person wishlist for quite some time and someone I know on Discord was kind enough to share the audio with me after they purchased it online! While it wasn’t quite as chaotic as I expected with these three living together, I still got a pretty good laugh out of it!

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

The scene starts outside at night.

Subaru: ...Ah, fuck! Those guys always manage to talk their way out and in the end, I’m the only one who gets fuckin’ yelled at by Reiji...! I’m sick and tired of this! I’m never goin’ back to that stupid house!

Kou: ...Huh? Ah, it’s Subaru-kun!

Subaru: Aah...? 

Kou: What are you doing here?

Subaru: Kou. I could ask you the same.

Kou: I’m currently running away from home.

Subaru: Running away from home?

Kou: Exactly! Listen to thisー Everyone’s just way too mean! I’m here exhausted from my idol work, yet Ruki-kun tells me not to sleep on the sofa, Yuma-kun’s trying to drag me away to help him with his harvest while Azusa-kun would try to cut my hair to test the sharpness of his new knife! Geez, don’t you think they should all go a little easier on me?

Subaru: Haah...Not much different at my place.

Kou: You too?

Subaru: Yeah. They keep on makin’ me do all the dirty work ‘cause I’m the youngest. ...Haah...Today Ayato-kun and the others blamed it on me after they broke one of Reiji’s plates, so I got pissed off and punched the wall, which led Reiji to believe I did both things and he lectured me for two fuckin’ hours. 

Kou: Uwaah...That must have been horrible.

Subaru: Siblings only ever bring trouble.

Kou: My thoughts exactly! They’re just too inconsiderate towards us!

Shin: Heeh? So you two had a sibling quarrel too, huh?

Subaru: ...! This voice...

Shin walks up to them.

Shin: Good evening. Didn’t expect to run into you guys here.

Kou: Since you said ‘too’, does that mean you had a fight with Carla-kun as well, Shin-kun?

Shin: I suppose in my case it would be more accurate to say that I can just no longer gloss over his selfishness. Guess you could say I’m tired of it.

Subaru: What do you mean?

Shin: Nii-san leaves everything up to me or the Familiars and no matter how many times I tell him not too, he keeps on making reckless purchases without checking the price tag. Whether it’s cured ham or paintings...And those things aren’t exactly cheap either.

Kou: I see...You must have it rough as well.

Shin: I didn’t think it was the same for you guys.

Kou: Say, why don’t the three of us just move in together then?

Shin: Haah...? I was wondering what you’d suggest, but where does that come from?

Kou: I mean, if we go back home after this, we’ll be back to square one, right?

Subaru: Hm...

Shin: Well...I guess it might be better than having to return to Nii-san’s place.

Subaru: Guess so...

Kou: It’s settled then~ ...First we have to look for a house. 

The three of them start walking.

Subaru: You’re gonna look for an empty house?

Kou: No way. I’m going to borrow a dorm from the agency. If I tell them that the two of you are idols-in-the-making, they’ll give me an okay in no time!

Shin: Fine by me, but just don’t expect me to actually do that idol shit.

Kou: Don’t worry~ That won’t happen. ...Well, they might make you do some model work though.

Subaru: No way in hell!

Kou: I’m just joking~ Come on, let’s go~

Shin: ...Will this really be okay?

*TIMESKIP*

Kou: Thank god we found a place where we each have our own private room.

Subaru: If I had to share a room with you two, I would have rather spent the night sleeping outside.

Shin: You take the words straight from mouth.

Kou: Geez, you twoー! Are we going to start fighting amongst each other now as well?

Subaru: Che...! So, what we gonna do now?

Kou: Hm...For now, it’s almost time for dinner, right? We bought food on the way here so...Ah! But we should probably clean the rooms and purchase everyday necessities as well.

Shin: Can’t we divide the chores for today?

Kou: Good idea. In that case, I’ll go to the store so I’m leaving cooking and cleaning to you guys.

Subaru: Haah? Don’t be keepin’ the easy task for yourself!

Kou: Huh? But you guys don’t know the neighborhood yet, right? Don’t you think it’s better than getting lost?

Shin: Well, he might have a point. I’ll cook then so Subaru can clean.

Subaru: Oi! Don’t just decide that by yourseーー

Kou: ーー I’ll be counting on you guys then! Off I go~!

Kou leaves the room.

*Thud*

Subaru: That bastard...!

Shin: Let’s see, what should I make...

Shin leaves to the kitchen.

Subaru: Ah, waiーー! ...Ugh...I swear all of these people...Haah...Guess I have no other choice.

Subaru goes off to clean.

*TIMESKIP*

*Thud*

Kou: I’m back~! Are things going well over heー ...Huh? Wah! What happened here!? I’m pretty sure it’s even more of a mess than when I left! ...It looks like someone was vacuuming and then just stopped halfway through. ...Subaru-kun! ...Could he be in his own room?

He enters Subaru’s room.

Kou: Su-ba-ru-kun~ ...Hm? Where did this coffin come from? Is he hiding in here?

*Knock knock*

Kou: Anyone home~? ...Come out if you’re in there, Subaru-kun.

Subaru opens the lid.

Subaru: Shut up. I was finally getting some rest so don’t get in my way.

Kou: What are you saying? You’re not done cleaning yet, are you?

Subaru: You really think I’d do that annoyin’ shit? If you’re back, you can do it.

Kou: Eh!? That’s just meaーー

Shin: Haah!? Hold up...What’s going on here!?

Kou: Ah. Seems like Shin-kun noticed the mess in the living room as well.

Shin: Say, can someone explain to me what happened to the living rooー Wha!? Why is there a coffin in here!?

Subaru: I brought it with me from home earlier.

Shin: There’s already a bed in our rooms, remember!?

Kou: ...Are you maybe the type of person who can only sleep with their own pillow?

Subaru: That’s not the problem. I can just relax the best in here.

Shin: ...Somehow I’m starting to feel stupid pointing out every single dumb thing these people say. (1) Anyway, dinner’s ready so why don’t we go eat?

Kou: Good idea...Subaru-kun, you better continue cleaning after we’ve had dinner.

Subaru: Hmph!

Kou: Say...Shin-kun?

Shin: Haah? What? ...Aah, I guess you’re impressed since you don’t get a chance at eating a Founders’ cooking very often?

Kou: That’s not the problem! Who came up with this menu!? It’s basically all nut-based!

Subaru: A salad with nuts, a meat-and-nuts stir-fry, macaroni gratin with nuts...Amazing.

Shin: Could you not complain when I’m here sharing my favorite food with you two?

Kou: I bought all ingredients for vongole bianco so why didn’t you make that...?

Shin: I wasn’t feeling it today. I’m the one in charge of cooking so can you really blame me for making something I like?

Kou: No way~~

Subaru: I’ll take any food I can get.

*Cling*

Shin: Come on, you should give it a taste too, Kou.

Kou: Haah...Guess I have no other choice. Tomorrow I’ll definitely put vongole bianco on the menu.

Shin: Mmh...! Just as I thought, nuts are the beーー Hah?

Kou: Haahn...Mmh...Mm... (talking with his mouth full) It’s better than I expected! ...You’re a good cook, aren’t you?

Shin: I’m a Founder after all, so of course I aーー Hold on!

*THUD*

Shin: That’s not the problem!

Subaru: ...!? Oi, Shin! Don’t slam your hands on the table while people are eatin’!

Shin: You shut up for a second! ...Kou!

Kou: Hm? (still talking with his mouth full) What do you mean? I’m just eating like I always would?

Shin: Haah!? What are you saying!? You’re spilling nuts everywhere and your mouth is covered in sauce! You’ve got zero manners!

Kou: Oh...Not my fault nuts are difficult to eat.

Shin: You’re using your fork the wrong way too!

Kou: Haah? I mean, it’s your fault for not making vongole bianco, right? 

Shin: You’re trying to blame me now? I can’t believe this.

Subaru stands up.

Subaru: Oi, I’m goin’ back to my room.

Kou: Eh? You’re done already, Subaru-kun?

Shin: Wait! What about cleaning?

Subaru: Ah? So you two don’t mind if I’m running the vacuum cleaner in the room next-door while you’re trying to enjoy your meal?

Kou: I wouldn’t like that...

Subaru: Then you guys can do the cleaning after you’re done eating. ...I don’t give a damn as long as my own room isn’t a mess.

Shin: Excuse me!? You really don’t want to work with us now, do you!?

Subaru: I just do as I please, simple as that. 

Subaru leaves.

Kou: Subaru-kun...! ...It’s no use, he won’t listen at all.

Shin: Seems like he’s even more of a loner than I heard.

Kou: Ah-aah...If only Ruki-kun was here, he’d solve the conflict in no time. Yuma-kun and Azusa-kun always did the tasks assigned to them as well.

Shin: Nii-san wouldn’t make a mess of the dinner table or leave things scattered about his room either.

Kou: And they aren’t selfish.

Shin: He wouldn’t isolate himself either.

Kou: Shin-kun...Don’t you think we feel best at our own homes in the end?

Shin: What a coincidence. I was just thinking the same thing.

Kou: Guess I’ll go back. ...I’ll go call Subaru-kun.

Shin: Wait!

Kou: Hm? What’s wrong?

Shin: Heh. In the end, that guy did nothing, right? So we’re going to give him a taste of his own medicine. (1)

Kou: A taste of his own medicine?

Shin: Lend me your ear for a bit.

*Rustle*

Shin: Soーー 

Kou: Hm, hm.

Shin: And then...

Kou: Hm.

Shin: ...Right?

Kou: Hm.

Shin: Okay?

Kou: Ooh! That’s a great idea! Way to go, Shin-kun!

Shin: Heh! Let’s get to it right away then!

*SCENE SHIFT*

Subaru: ...They’re not comin’, huh? I was convinced they’d be here to complain by now. ...Actually, the house has been completely quiet for a while. What is going on? ...Guess I’ll go take a look.

*TIMESKIP*

Subaru: ...Che! Where did those bastards go!? They weren’t in their own rooms either. ...Hm?

*Rustle*

Subaru: Huh? What’s this piece of paper doing here?

*Flip*

Subaru: A letter from Kou? Hm... ‘I’m sorry, Subaru-kun. Me and Shin-kun have decided to go back home. We’re counting on you to clean up the place. P.S. If you don’t make sure everything looks spic and span, you’ll have to work as an idol for one week, so best of luck.’ 

...Haahーー!? The clean-up? They just left the silverware laying on the table and there’s still food everywhere as well! ...Don’t tell me I have to do all of this by myself? On top of that, if I don’t get it done on time...A-An idol...Kuh...! ...YOU’VE GOT TO BE SHITTIN’ MEーー!!

ーー THE END ーー

Translation notes

(1) He uses the term 痛い目 or ‘itai-me’ which literally means ‘a rough/painful experience’.

[hypmicdaydreams]

Hey! can i order headcanons for Gentaro, Jyushi and Hifumi going to the cinema to see a scary movie with their S/Oc please? Have a good night, love your blog <3

(sorry for any error, i'm using google translator)

Ah man, I can not for the life of me watch a scary movie. They terrify me too much haha. But this was very cute to write! Thank you sm for the request anon, and I hope you enjoy 💕 (and dw, there weren't any errors!)

𝗚𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗼, 𝗛𝗶𝗳𝘂𝗺𝗶, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗝𝘆𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗶 𝘀𝗲𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮 𝗵𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝗼𝘃𝗶𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝘀/𝗼

-pairings: gentaro yumeno x gn!reader, hifumi izanami x gn!reader, jyushi aimono x gn!reader

-genre: fluff

Gentaro

he wasn’t one to really be frightened by a horror movie as it was nothing more than a story to him, so he found a much deeper appreciation for the storytelling

if a horror movie managed to give him chills or goosebumps (which wasn’t often as of late), then gentaro considered it a success. it must’ve been a rather good watch if he wasn’t able to predict what would happen next or if it managed to catch him off-guard

he adored a good and rather chilling horror movie as much as the next person; unfortunately, however, gentaro found the majority of the more recent horror movies to be nothing but, well, terrible, so it wasn’t his favorite genre

the cheap jump scares or ominous music had no effect on him, and the shallow plot and terrible writing was borderline offensive in his mind. gentaro, more than anyone else, loved a fantastical story with a good plot and stellar writing, and the more recent horror movies were far from that

so when you suggest that the two of you go to the theaters in order to watch the latest horror movie that caught your eye, gentaro is a bit hesitant at first and isn’t expecting much from it

but seeing how you looked quite excited at the prospect of seeing a movie together with him, gentaro agreed to it. this should, at the very least, be fun considering that you’d be with him

when the movie starts, gentaro is watching with an uninterested gaze, already able to tell where this would go, if it was a cliché one or not. and if it was the former, well, he practically zoned out during the movie or tried to rewrite the scenes to make it more interesting

(gentaro never could focus on anything for too long if it wasn’t something he liked)

if you easily got scared by horror movies or if this movie in particular was making you quite frightened, gentaro would catch on to that and discreetly hold your hand in attempt to comfort you throughout, perhaps even throw a funny comment here and there about the terrible quality of it in hopes that’d help (and it lowkey did)

after the movie, you’d be talking about what you thought of the movie, saying how the jump scares took you by surprise and how it took forever to calm your racing heart. when you turn and ask gentaro for his input, he simply shrugs and says that it definitely could’ve better

i feel like he could go off on a whole tangent on how the writing was a bit bland, the characters too two-dimensional, how the horror aspect was clearly lacking. honestly, you’re impressed that he could pick up on all that, though you couldn’t help but tell yourself that it was to be expected

gentaro hated nothing more than a bad story, especially one where it was clear there was absolutely no effort put into it; and as an author himself, it felt somewhat of a personal attack

he never really did talk much, so you’d be surprised if he does start to criticize each aspect of it. though if you were left feeling slightly shaken up by the movie, then it’d help ease you up really. it was sort of a reminder that it wasn’t real

even then, if you had trouble sleeping later that night, gentaro would have no problem reassuring you that he was there and perhaps even tell a story or two of his own

Hifumi

i like to think that he isn’t one that gets scared by horror movies at first glance, instead finding them to be sorta exciting. the jump scares, however cheap, were always thrilling and got his heart racing, in a good way he liked to think

but as night falls, hifumi surely gets a tiny bit frightened as he recalled the events of the movie from a few hours ago. all of a sudden, his slightly open bedroom door and the stillness of the night was just too eerie

still though, horror movies were a guilty pleasure for him, even if they did terrify him a bit afterwards. they were simply too much fun. so when you brought up the idea of going to see a horror movie, hifumi jumped at the prospect of it

he was rather excited, more so at the fact that you guys were going out on a date, and hifumi even suggests the two of you watch it at night in order to heighten the atmosphere and leave more of an impact (a suggestion he may come soon to regret)

hifumi is, well, rather emotive; so throughout the movie, if there was anything that took him by surprise, you could easily tell from the way he slightly jumped or the small, quiet yelps of his that he couldn’t hold back

even then, however, it doesn’t seem to faze him all that much; rather, he seems a bit excited? as if the racing feeling of his heart was way too thrilling

for some reason, i could see hifumi being the type to comment on things during the movie as well, such as mentioning how that particular jump scare took him by surprise or how this scene was giving him goosebumps

it’s not that he’s talkative, but instead, he simply liked to point things out to you

if at any point you were ever starting to feel terrified during the movie, he’d be able to tell and hold your hand for reassurance, maybe even ask with a worried glance whether you wanted to step out or not. hifumi understood that horror movies weren’t for everyone and could make some feel uncomfortable (he’s literally the sweetest, i live by that)

you’d have to reassure him many times that you were fine

regardless of whether or not the movie was bad, hifumi would enjoy it either way. for one, having the experience of watching it on the big screen with you was really what made it special. secondly, it was fun either way

as you guys walk out of the theater, hifumi is talking on and on about the movie and how scary it was, even if it wasn’t that frightening. as aforementioned, he’s quite emotive, so hifumi basically describes how he was feeling throughout the entirety of the movie

and if you admit that you also felt somewhat scared from it, he’d totally agree but then go on to tell you how none of it was real either way, so it was more exciting than anything

despite that, you may find him to be somewhat more antsy at the tiniest noises or find him holding you just a bit tighter when you guys go to bed later that night

Jyushi

needless to say, he and horror movies did not mesh well together, if, at all. just the concept or synopsis of said movies were enough to send a chill down his spine as jyushi couldn’t help but imagine the endless gruesome scenarios that could take place

and at night, well, jyushi could barely sleep without some sort of comfort such as amanda or you since the only thing on his mind was the movie and a multitude intrusive thoughts, not able to help but imagine what’d happen if he or you was ever thrust upon such a scenario (no matter how unrealistic it was)

so jyushi is veryyy reluctant at first to accept your offer to go watch a horror movie at the cinema, especially if it was playing at night. he could barely get through them in the midst of the day; how’d he even fare at night when he could barely see a thing?

but when he saw just how excited you seemed to be about it, especially since you were going to see the long awaited horror movie with your boyfriend, jyushi sorta gave in

besides, he told himself over and over again that it was simply another obstacle for him to grow stronger, a part of his training in a way. it did help ease him somewhat

still though, when you guys finally do go to the cinema, jyushi makes sure that he has amanda with him as well, knowing that he’d need it by the end

when the movie starts, jyushi is pretty much trembling slightly, terrified at what could happen, so you’d have to hold his hand and give him a reassuring smile, telling him that if it was too much, then you guys could leave

this does comfort him, however, and jyushi decides to tough it out and watch it through (honestly, even if you were scared by the movie, jyushi was more so than you)

all throughout the movie, jyushi does have a hard time directly staring at the screen, always shielding his eyes with his hands or closing them each time there was a jump scare of sorts

he was also quite emotive, so each time jyushi saw something frightening, he’d let out a small yelp of sorts, maybe even jump a bit if it really did take him by surprise. it was just a bit too much for him

holds your hand through it all, for good measure, and has amanda close by at all times

at the end of the movie, when you guys walk out of the theater, jyushi is more than thrilled that it’s finally over with, though he did have to admit that it was somewhat fun

when you ask him what he thought about it, despite the fact that jyushi’s emotions are as clear as day given how pale he looked, he’d break out into his v-kei persona and try to put up a front and say that it wasn’t scary in the slightest, if only to impress you, and save for his trembling voice

of course, you can easily see through it, though you may decide to let him have it and tease him by saying how brave he was, much braver than you who got frightened by it (and he certainly grows flustered by this)

afterwards, as the two of you are going to bed, jyushi cuddles you immensely, holding you close and tight given how the movie left him quite shaken up. he may even leave the hallway light on as to provide ample light to ward off the darkness a bit

you might even stroke his hair or give him a little forehead kiss to help calm him, which certainly does do its job. honestly, being wrapped up in each other’s embrace did help ease both of your fears

[daltonacademia]

There’s A Time For Daring - 1

charlie dalton x fem!reader [post events of the movie]

word count: 1.7k

warning: allusions to sex / slight sexual harrassment? drinking, mentions of neil’s suicide, horrible parents 

Charlie couldn’t help but emit a low growl as his vomit-inducing, picture-perfect, high-society mother and father, whom he despised, prodded him towards the expansive front entrance of Nealson Preparatory School located in southern Vermont. His fuschia-lipped, cakey-faced mother, Cynthia Dalton, was a well-dressed, dignified housewife by day and charming socialite by night; she was particularly harsh as she trampled his pen-stained oxfords with her spearish kitten heels. His eyes shot daggers at the snow-strewn path below, a familiar fire burning in his core.

There were many things Charlie was tempted to furiously spit out at his parents, but instead, he managed to keep his jaw clamped shut, his pearly whites digging into the light pink of his lips hard enough to draw blood. No matter what he shouted, cried, pleaded, they wouldn’t budge. They never would. And it was infuriating.

“Charles! Being expelled from such a prestigious school is no laughing matter, young man. That school cost us quite the pretty penny! How dare you defy the rules to the extent of expulsion. It’s disgraceful, and I will tolerate it no longer!” Charlie’s mother shrieked, furious tears smudging the thick mascara that coated her eyelashes.

“You’ll be shipped off to Nealson Preparatory School in February, and if I hear so much as a single mention of your name not followed with overwhelming compliments, you can expect nasty, nasty consequences! Go pack your things, you’ll be staying with Aunt Barbara until the first of February finally arrives!” The rims of Charlie’s brown eyes stung with anger, frustration, and furthest down, sadness. He was diminished to nothing but an image-ruiner to his mother. The person who was supposed to love him, protect him, save him from the horrors of this hell called Earth.

Mr. Dalton silently observed the boisterous outburst from his expensive leather armchair across the den, a glass of strong, half-drunk whiskey in his palm. Charlie couldn’t bear to see their despicable faces any longer, and as his body felt no longer under his control, stomped up the stairs in a huff, rapidly swiping away the glassy tears spilling from his eyes. Thoughts of running away, escaping it all, flooded his unstable mind. ‘I get why you did it, Neil. I really do. But did you have to go so soon?’ 

But instead of lingering on the image of Neil any longer, he hastily threw his bare necessities into his suitcase, which was still covered in an array of Welton Academy stickers.

The grounds of Nealson were unsurprisingly well-maintained; it reminded him a lot of Welton. The impeccably manicured lawns, gleaming, icy blue lake, the gothic stone arches and pillars. It was eerily similar to Hellton, even down to the ice-cold blanket of snow coating the distant rolling hills. It’s beautiful, Charlie thought, surveying the slow sprinkling of snow, No, it’s hideous. 

Before he could fully vomit at the vile grounds of his new school, his parents fiercely shoved him inside the Headmaster’s dingy office, politely taking the vacant mahogany seats beside him. Charlie couldn’t be bothered to listen to a word his parents said with pearly white smiles, which were no doubt tooth-rotting, sugar-coated lies about the real reason he was expelled over a month prior. 

He knew that they couldn’t just be transparent and tell the Headmaster that he had socked the utterly vile Richard Cameron’s face in (rightfully so, in his opinion), or that he was a star member of the infamous Dead Poets Society, or that he had gone to the extreme lengths to stage a phone call from none other than God himself. It didn’t work like that. 

His mother’s cheeky, artificial voice sounded precisely the same as it always had: carefully rehearsed and slathered with naivety. Seemingly without hesitation, the catty woman could deflect any less-than-pleasant questions or insinuations about her “golden role-model” son, who’s admittedly “a little misguided at times”. 

The new headmaster seated across from him appeared to be around the same age as Mr. Nolan, which, as far as Charlie was concerned, was older than the Cretaceous period at least. His pale-as-a-ghost skin was wrinkled and paper-thin; his patchy, gelled side-swept hair was (very obviously) dyed a deep, midnight black, reminiscent of an off-brand Elvis. 

Charlie’s ears continued to mute the awkward conversation happening amongst him, his focus instead shifting around to the various awards and certificates lining the ivory walls. They all seemed so phony; ‘Best Headmaster- 1947-1959’, ‘Nealson Academy: Exceeds Expectations’. The Headmaster had even framed his high school superlative: ‘Voted Most Likely to Succeed’. What a pathetic-

In a swift blur, his parents rose from their seats, his mother clutching her magenta purse with matching pursed lips. Charlie was handed a hefty, stapled packet packed full of school rules and guidelines with a denture-toothed smile from Headmaster ‘Campbell’. This’d make some decent kindling, he thought as he yanked the packet from his clammy clutches, leafing through its pages with a smirk, this garbage’s almost laughable.

A syncopated rhythm of raps on the door, followed by a gravelly, ‘come in', presented his new dorm escort. His chauffeur just so happened to be you, the accomplished and universally admired student body president in the same grade as the newcomer. You were dutifully donning Nealson’s horrendous uniform: a crisp, white button-up accented with a blue and silver tie was topped with a depressing grey sweater vest. An equally loathsome pleated skirt concealed your thighs, and your ankles were shielded from the chilly February air with black crew socks. 

You extended your perfectly manicured, soft hand out to your brand-new peer with a yearbook-worthy smile, introducing, “Hi. Welcome to Nealson, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You swore you heard the brunette mutter something disrespectful under his breath, but nonetheless, he, rather unprofessionally, shook your hand with an eye roll. Things between the two of you were not starting off the way you hoped, but you were determined to make a good impression. The best impression possible.

“Charlie Dalton,” he replied with a mischievous smirk. The brunette standing in front of you reeked of cigarettes, and there was the slightest smell of cheap beer clinging to his clothes. His brown hair was messy, springing out in every direction, despite the water furiously combed through it. His eyes glinted with rebellion, a look so alluring yet dangerous.

“I’ll be showing you to your dorm, which you’ll sleep in for the remainder of the year.” Since Dalton was starting in February, he only had five months of studying before long-awaited senior year. Mr. Campbell waved the two of you off, and with that, you trekked towards the Boys’ wing, Dalton sauntering at your side. 

The walk through the main corridor was silent and awkward. You had tried to enchant him with fun facts about Nealson and its (extensively selective) history, much to his obvious boredom and dismay. His umber eyes glazed the walls, uninterested in the decor. His mind seemed to be elsewhere, but for all you knew, it could be on the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. 

After a while of treading through the high-ceilinged corridors illuminated with fleeting pale rays of sunlight, the boy next to you made no attempt to hide him drawing designs up and down your body. 

“I’ve never been to a school with both boys and girls,” he drawled with a smirk. “Do things ever get exciting around here?”

You shook your head no while indiscreetly tugging down the hem of your skirt uncomfortably, and he said, “Do you think you’d maybe wanna spend the night with me in my dorm? Make sure I’m all settled in?”

Your whole body, from head to toe, froze. The audacity of this… creep! Your tongue poked, nearly stabbed, the back of your teeth, wanting to unleash a select few words to the disgusting Dalton beside you. But alas, if he were to tell anyone of your fiery wrath, you’d be demoted from class president faster than you could explain what really happened. It’s a corrupt system, sure, but even with the power that comes with such a title, there was no way to mend it.

Eventually, while you were wrapped up in the furies of your mind, Dalton revealed a small, autographed golf ball from his trousers pocket and began throwing it up and down above his head casually with every step. 

“Can you not?” you snapped at the chestnut-haired boy after he tossed the sphere up and down again in an arch. “Don’t wanna get in trouble on your first day, do you?”  

“You think this’ll get me in trouble? Have a little fun, it won’t kill you. I promise.” Dalton turned his gaze towards you, an annoyed but smug grin painted on his lips. He slowly tossed the golf ball to your hands, intending for you to catch it. However, the small ball evaded your grasp, instead bouncing around the hardwood floors below you, creating a series of loud, reverberating thunks.

“You were supposed to catch it, you know,” Dalton teased, nonchalantly watching you chase after the rogue orb. After it was finally safe in your clutches, you stomped over to the no-good newbie, irritated. 

“Nealson’s strict. They don’t let stuff like creating an awful lot of racket go unreprimanded.” You were seething; red-hot blood pumped through your veins. Dalton didn’t look anything but utterly amused.

“Wow, you’re just about one of the biggest suck-ups I’ve seen in a while.”

“A what?” you growled.

“A suck-up. A rule-following poster child of excellence? A bratty, know-it-all? Anything along those lines?” He sputtered insults so nonchalantly, it made your blood boil and eyes sting.

“You better watch it, Dalton. I don’t know who you think you are-”

“I’m the best thing that’s happened to this school, by the looks of it.” 

You had nothing left to say to this conceited shuck of a boy who really thought that he was all that and a side of fries. Well he wasn’t! Not in the slightest! And if his first day of classes wouldn’t drill it into him, you would.

The rest of the walk was pin-drop silent and tense. No more fun facts about Nealson escaped your downturned lips, just the light patting of his beat-up oxfords and your pristine mary-janes on the polished wood floor. The hallways seemed more depressing than usual, their framed portraits and condensated windows didn’t fill you with the motivation that you came to expect.

After finally arriving at the boys’ dormitories, you grumbled, “well, this is it. Have a swell life, Dalton.”

“Right back at ya, Y/L/N. Let’s hope this isn’t the last time we meet.” He gave you a cheeky wink before slamming the door in your face.

[smellsfaintlyofvanilla]

hewwo! Would it be okay to request historia x reader? I’m not sure if you’ve finished aot yet but the scenario in my head is set after historia became queen and the reader is a captain of the scout regiment. They’ve been secretly together since their trainees days and it becomes increasingly hard to find time to spend together. So like one day reader decide to dangle outside of historia’s window (how romantic than throwing rocks at her windows👀) and decides to make up for lost time. Lots of fluff and maybe Heheh I wouldn’t mind if it gets a bit (or maybe more) nsfw. Thankiess <33 sorry if it bothers you with this request

Stan Historia hours :) I love her sm

Also I didn’t proofread ‘cause I’m sleepy, so if there are typos... uh... whoops...

Missing You

(Historia Reiss x Reader)

AU: Canon

Warnings: None

Category: Fluff/smut

Summary: Ever since Historia became queen of Paradis, her s/o has been able to see her less and less. So, one day, they show up outside of her window for a surprise.

Words: 4.1K

Gusts of wind delicately brushed your hair behind your ears as you flew through the air effortlessly. You breathed in the cold evening air and gazed at the setting sun over the horizon tranquilly before firing the grapple of your ODM gear into the wall of a nearby brick building. Using the momentum it gave you, you rounded the corner swiftly and let your eyes settle of the sight in front of you--the Reiss castle.

It was a grand sight, no doubt about it, as the pristine stone and marble was decorated with shiny golden accents that fit the grandeur aesthetic. A tall gate surrounded the estate, and guards lined the outside.

Luckily for you, as the commander of the Scouts, you had no trouble bypassing them all quietly. It’s not like you were in any real danger regardless--even if you were caught, the queen would undoubtedly have you pardoned immediately. The worst you’d get out of it was a harsh scolding from a displeased Levi or Erwin.

You were on a bit of a risky mission. Not one sanctioned by the Scouts, but rather, a personal mission. You knew your girlfriend, who was also the queen, resided inside the palace, and due to her newfound status as a monarch, and your duties as a soldier, you found yourself with less and less time to spend with her. Knowing her, she likely missed you as well, and wouldn’t be at all apprehensive about your sudden appearance.

Your fleeting shadow was all that any guard could make out as your body flew over the wall, landing quietly, albeit a little clumsily, in the hedges lining the outer walls. A glance up at a familiar balcony proved that you had hit your target perfectly--you were directly under Historia’s bedroom.

You sat up and brushed the dirt off of your cloak with a scoff. Security was clearing lacking here if someone like you was able to slip by undetected so easily. Still, you were pleased with it’s convenience in allowing you to visit your girlfriend. You shot the grapple of your gear right above her bedroom window, and quickly zipped up to peer inside, placing both of your feet against the wall and letting your arms hang limp as your weight was carried solely on the wire of your ODM gear.

The curtain was already opened, and you took a minute to admire her sleeping frame, which was hunched unceremoniously over her desk and on top of some incomplete paperwork. The messy golden hair, which was out of it’s usual style, and the gentle rise and fall of her chest as her lips parted slightly. Despite her outward calmness, you didn’t fail to notice the light bags under her eyes, and the scowl that painted her usually cheery face.

You decided to cut your creepy staring short, as you balled up one of your hands into a fist and started gently knocking on the glass window. You stopped as soon as you noticed her stir, but you quickly realized she was still asleep. It was probably gonna take a little more than light knocking to wake her up.

You crouched your legs further into the wall, before jumping away and aiming your feet at the window. As your body swung back and into the window, the cheap wooden frame gave way silently, pushing the window wide open. You silently thanked whatever deity was up there that the glass didn’t shatter when you collided with it, because if it did, a rush of guards would undoubtedly storm in to investigate the threat, and you really wanted this little visit to stay a secret between you and Historia.

You gently closed the window behind you, not wanting to let any more of the chilly night air inside, and walked up to your girlfriend’s desk. You placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and shook her lightly.

“Historia...” You whispered into her ear, but the short girl only tightened her lips into a line and furrowed her brows, accompanied by a short, incoherent mumble. You cursed her for being so cute before you gave her a quicker, more forceful shake. “Historia...!” You whisper-shouted, and you felt her body jump at the sudden call of her name.

She yanked her head off of her desk abruptly and turned her body to face you with a slightly panicked expression on her face, but it lightened immediately into a small smile when her gaze met yours.

“Y/n...” She yawned out, covering her mouth and shutting her eyes peacefully.

“Hello, darling.” You smiled, stepping back a few paces to give her space to stretch her arms out above her head.

“What are you doing here?” She muttered, before perking her head up in confusion and continuing. “Actually, how did you get past security?”

You laughed softly before sliding your cloak off of your shoulders and throwing it carelessly onto her elegant, oversized bed. “Well, I missed you, and it’s been ages, so I decided to drop by for a visit. Getting past security was no big issue, either.” You laughed dryly, before continuing, walking over to stand by Historia’s desk chair. “Don’t tell me you didn’t wan to see me?” You smiled.

“No,” She mumbled sleepily, standing up and burying her head in your chest affectionately, wrapping her arms around you tightly. “I’m glad you’re here...”

You smiled at her bashfully and started to run your fingers through her loose blonde hair. She’s always so cute when she’s sleepy...

“So...” She pulled back after a moment, looking up to face you as the tiredness slowly left her eyes. “Did you have anything specific planned?” She smiled, “Or did you visit just for the sake of it?”

You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck with your free hand. “Nothing in particular, but I had an idea.” She raised her eyebrow, signaling you to continue, but you didn’t speak, and instead, you walked back to her window and opened it wide, the gentle winds causing the curtains to flutter. You waved your hand in the ‘come here’ motion, beckoning her to follow you to the window.

“I’ll show you,” You smiled, “But you have to hold on tight.”

She nodded wordlessly, walking over to you and wrapping her small body around your torso. You pet her head affectionately for a moment, before speaking.

“You ready?”

“Mhm.”

And with that, you climbed onto the windowsill and shot off your ODM gear outside of the palace walls.

As you flew through the air, you made sure to be quick and silent, trying not to make a scene, especially now that the queen was clinging to you like a koala. To an outsider’s perspective, it may have appeared like the calmest kidnapping to ever occur, but in reality, Historia couldn’t have been any happier to be so close to you for the first time in months, even if no word’s were spoken.

She finally pulled her head out of your chest when she felt you stop, hitting the ground and skidding along the dirt on your heels from the leftover momentum. You stumbled a little bit, before gaining your footing in the dirt and stopping in your tracks.

“We’re here.” You exhaled, and Historia reluctantly let go and stood up straight. She looked around curiously at the unfamiliar scenery. Tired oak trees towered over the sky, covering the view of the stars completely. Near her feet, green, unkept grass and shrubbery covered the ground, and the occasional patch of flowers gave a drop of color to the predominately brown and green scenery. She quickly concluded that the city was long behind them, and that this place had been free of human inhabitation for quite a long time.

“You dragged me out of my bedroom at 9PM,” Historia started, and you turned to face her curiously. “To show me some trees...?”

You laughed at this, finding her confusion quite adorable. “Not the trees, sweetie.” You grabbed her small hand in your own, and started to lead her down the closest thing to a path there was near here--an area of beaten down dirt and flattened grass. ‘I wonder how often she comes here...’ Historia thought to herself as you continued to lead her through the trees.

You finally slowed your jog to a stop once you found your destination, letting go over Historia’s hand and stretching out, breathing in the freeing night air. “Now, we’re here.”

She finally turned her gaze away from you, and glanced at the landscape ahead of her, mouth hanging slightly open at the sight of it.

The sky was composed of deep shades of purple and blue, mixing together elegantly like paint on a canvas. Shiny white stars freckled the sky, forming best and constellations. It was nothing compared to the view she got from her palace window.

She glanced down at her feet to see just where she was standing. The two of you were on the edge of the forest, which seemed to be the cliff that oversaw the beach that was at least 50 feet below her. It was a small outcrop of dirt and stone, a tiny little peninsula of cliff where trees and flowers ceased to grow, leaving only the small bits of grass and shrubbery.

“Pretty cool, huh?” You sighed happily, plopping down to sit on the short grass, and patting the space next to you.

She snapped out of her trance and settled down next to you, running her fingers through the soft grass, mesmerized.

You watched her with amusement before chuckling. “How long has it been since you’ve touched some grass??” Despite your playful tone, you were genuinely curious. After all, as nothing more than a soldier, you didn’t remotely understand what the life of royalty could be like.

She ignored the question for the most part, her gaze still fixed on the night’s sky.

“I haven’t gotten to see anything like this in a long time...” She trails off.

“I know,” You say confidently, “I go here all the time to look at the stars since the it’s so isolated, Plus, it has an amazing view. Levi always drags me out whenever he finds me here, but I caught him watching the sunrise here one time. I guess even a pessimist like him finds this place calming.” You chuckle, leaning you back against a dead tree stump and sighing. “But keep this quiet.” You smile. “It’s my little secret.”

She smiled back, a small blush creeping up on her cheeks at your laugh. It was so calming to her, so charming and unique to you. It made her happy to know you were happy.

A sudden gust of wind blew through the air, and Historia shivered, hugging herself in an attempt to conserve body heat. It was pretty here, no doubt, but she wished she had a chance to change out of her night clothes before you took her out.

You glanced at her for a moment, still clad in the standard Scout uniform (which, luckily for you, was very warm), and chuckled for a minute.

“Historia, darling,” You called out, bringing her attention towards you and patting your lap, “Come over here.”

She stood up quickly and made her way over to you, facing you before placing herself in your lap, her arms wrapped around your stomach and one leg splayed to either side of you.

You silently wished you had brought your Scout cloak with you so you could use it as a blanket, but instead, you just wrapped your arms around her in return and hoped that whatever body heat you were giving off would be enough.

It seemed to work, though, as she stopped shivering pretty quickly, and buried her head in your chest. You sighed in relief and started to run your hands through her hair absentmindedly.

“Y’know sweetie,” you start speaking, and although she shows no reaction at first, you know she’s listening intently, “I love you, and I love the cuddles too, but you won’t get a good view of the stars if you stay like this the whole time.” You giggled.

She let out a muffled hum into your chest, before speaking her response. “I don’t mind. You’re much better than some cool view of the sky. Warmer too.”

You laughed at her last statement, before settling down yourself, a hand making it’s way to rub small circles of Historia’s lower back soothingly. It seemed to have worked, as she only sighed and cuddled herself further into you.

The two of you sat like that in comfortable silence for what felt like ages, relaxing in each others’ presences for the first time in months. But, eventually the silence was broken as Historia quietly piped up.

“How has it been?” She asked, and you tilted your head to look at her, only to find her still relaxed against you. “Being commander of the Scouts must be tough work. They’ve been getting a lot of attention recently, both good and bad.”

You sighed and leaned back once again. Things had been tougher and more tiring recently, no doubt. Still, work was the last thing on your mind at this moment. You just wanted to spend time with Historia, free from stress.

“It’s been... okay.” You dodged the question subtly, and Historia elected not to prod you on it as you continued. “But I do miss spending time with my wonderful girlfriend.” You teased, and a smile spread across your features as she flustered up, and turned her head subconsciously to the side, allowing you to see her blushing face.

“And you know what else I miss?” You continued, grabbing her chin with your free hand, and lifting her head up to face you.

“What?” She stared back at you, bewildered and flustered.

“This.”

And before Historia even had the time to voice the words that formed in her mind, you pulled her face to yours quickly, quickly kissing her on the nose, then the forehead, then the cheek.

Historia giggled adorably as you continued to pepper her with chaste kisses against her face, and this time, she didn’t try to fight the blush that spread across her cheeks.

“Y/nnnnn...!” She continued to laugh as you kissed the corner of her lips all the way up to her ear, and her laughter started to infect you as well, as you let out soft snickers and laughs as well as you continued to shower her with affection.

You eventually stopped, and the two of you laughed together sweetly for a moment, before finally settling down against each other once again.

“You know what I missed?” Historia spoke teasingly.

“Hm?” You responded, interested in her response.

She gave no verbal response, much like you, instead opting to show her feelings with actions rather than words as she closed the gap between both of your faces.

Her lips met yours, and you closed your eyes to accept the soft, tender kiss, as opposed to the playful and short ones from earlier.

You continued the kiss, leaning over her slightly, and moving your hands to her lower back, and her hands went to grip your shoulders for support.

You playfully licked her bottom lip, silently asking for permission, but she gave in right away, parting her lips slightly and allowing you to quickly slide your tongue over her teeth. She felt her blush darken at the bold action, but continued to deepen the kiss regardless.

She’d be a liar if she said that she didn’t miss this as well, the more... intimate parts of your relationships. Like how you two would quietly make out in the dorm rooms before meeting up with everyone for breakfast, and how you would quietly finger her behind the barracks after training, and even the cute little noises you made when she went down on you.

She couldn’t help it as these dirty thoughts started to cloud her mind, and she could already feel her underwear growing damp.

You continued to make out with her, asserting your dominance more as your tongue started to explore the inside of her mouth, and Historia couldn’t help but let out quiet whimpers, especially when the hands placed on her lower back started to slowly lift up the hem of her shirt.

Then, in what was most likely a subconscious action, you shifted in place a little bit, and it wasn’t until now that she was reminded that her core had been placed directly on your thigh, and the subtle grinding against her crotch caused her to let out a moan against your lips.

You didn’t realize what you had done for a second, but when you did, you immediately used it to your advantage, and you ground your thigh against her core excruciatingly slowly. At this point, Historia couldn’t help any of the quiet moans and whimpers that escaped her throat.

You pulled away to catch your breath, much to Historia’s dismay, but you at least kept the slow movements of your thigh against her as you spoke up between pants.

“How about we go home now baby?” You asked (though it wasn’t much of a question), wiping your mouth and breaking the thin trail of saliva that connected you two. “This isn’t a very good place for... y’know...”

Historia only blushed and nodded, wiping her mouth as well. “Y-Yeah...”

You stood up to lead her out, and Historia tried her best to ignore the throbbing sensation that lingered between her legs ever since you stopped giving her stimulation.

You wasted no time on your trip home—letting Historia cling to you while you zipped your way back to the palace.

Historia tried to be patient on the way there, but she couldn’t help it as she started to subtly grind her hips into yours as you continued to fly through the air.

You sucked in a little bit of air through your teeth—undoubtedly turned on yourself—but you were quick to reprimand her softly.

“Not here, Historia, just wait until we get back.”

After an excruciatingly long four minutes journey, you one again flew into Historia’s unlocked bedroom window, stumbling on the floor a little bit, before regaining your footing and setting Historia down. You turned to close the window, not wanting anyone but you to hear your girlfriend’s sweet moans but you.

Once you had done that, you removed your coat and tossed it aside aimlessly before pushing Historia down against the bed, continuing to make out with her hungrily. She clawed at your shirt clumsily, and ceased to stop the whine in her throat when you playfully bit her bottom lip.

Your hands roamed to the buttons of her night shirt, fumbling to undo them while keeping all of your attention on Historia. Eventually, you got the stubborn things off, and you threw the shirt to the side carelessly, before immediately abusing your new access.

Your hands roamed her breasts hungrily. They were on the smaller side, but, as you had learned not far into your relationship, they were very sensitive.

You toyed with her happily as she crumbled beneath you, and you relished in the way her breath hitched and back arched as you gently pinched one of the pink nipples.

She pulled away from the makeup session to bite her bottom lip, muting any noises she made as you continued your teasing ministrations.

“Shit... Y/n...” She muttered bashfully, causing you to laugh slyly.

You slowly moved your way up her body, before straddling her hips and sitting up, your crotch flush against hers. You slowly undid the buttons of your shirt, sliding it over your shoulders cleanly once it was loose enough, and you discarded along with the sports bra you were wearing.

Historia shamelessly scanned your body, all the way from your shoulders to your toned, somewhat muscled stomach, and she ran her fingers over it delicately, stopping at the button of your pants. You smiled before leaning down to continue kissing her, curious to see where she was leading with this.

She didn’t seem to lose any confidence when you resumed your dominance, as she unbuttoned the pants easily, and slipped her hand into your underwear. You tensed up and let out a small gasp as her fingers brushed teasingly over your clit, rubbing gentle circles on it.

You pulled away from her mouth and let out a small whine. “Historia...”

She smiled at your reaction, deciding to be just a little bolder as she pressed down on your clit, hard, causing a jolt of pleasure to shoot up your body. You let out a strangled moan before lust took over your mind. Enough foreplay, enough teasing. This is starting right now.

You sat back up again, causing her hand to fall out of your pants to avoid the uncomfortable angle, and you slid of your pants and underwear, throwing it off to the growing collection of neglected clothing that littered her floor. You did the same thing to Historia right after, sliding her skirt down her hips gently, talking her underwear with it.

Your hand instantly settled in between her legs, and you stuck a finger into her up to the knuckle experimentally, and smiling sadistically at the lewd noises that fell from her lips.

You pulled it out gently, causing her to call out your name in both pleasure and frustration.

You didn’t let her go long without stimulation, however, as you lifted one of her legs up to go over your shoulder, pressing your heat against hers, and causing you to close your eyes and let out a pleasured exhale.

Slowly, you started to rock your hips against hers, scissoring her at a slow pace, enjoying the soft sounds she made.

“Y-Y/n...” She muttered, covering her mouth with her hand to mute the noises that fell easily from her lips.

You glanced up at her and grabbed her wrist, displeased with her action. “Don’t cover your mouth.” You groaned, moving her hand away. “I want to hear you.”

Historia nodded hesitantly, blushing in embarrassment as lewd moans and whimpers left her lips.

“Fuck...” She exhaled in ecstasy, causing you to smile. It brought you a lot of joy to make your oh so innocent girlfriend curse as you fucked her like this.

Her dormant hands reached up to grasp at your waist, running her hands up and down it and feeling you up with need, causing you to let out a shuddered moan as you sped your pace.

The increase in speed jostled her for a moment, and a startled, but pleasured yelp left her lips. You sighed and tilted your head back, biting your lip in pleasure as you rocked against her with force.

Slowly, Historia felt a knot grow in the pit of her stomach. Intense, heated pleasure that threatened to burst with every thrust of your body against hers, and helpless whines filled the room, only increasing tenfold when one of your hands went down to grope her breast.

“F-Fuck...! Y/n... I’m getting... close...” She exhaled, causing a surge of arousal course through your body. You could feel your orgasm slowly building in your stomach as well.

“Y-Yeah... me too...” You panted out as your thrusts started to get irregular as you got closer and closer to your climax, and lust-filled moans fell from your lips. You reached your other hand down to rub at her clit, finally sending her over the edge.

The hot sensation in the pit of her stomach finally unraveled as she arched her back up and gripped the sheets, rolling her hips desperately against yours, needy moans of ecstasy spilled from her lips, along with the occasional curse and yelp of your name.

Evidence of her orgasm dripped down her thighs and onto you as you came against her as well, riding out your orgasm with her.

You let out a few, slow thrusts as your hips twitched and legs shook, finally coming down from your high. You thrusted one final time, before exhaling and collapsing next to her, still sweaty and panting from your activities just moments ago.

Historia looked just the same as you, sweat dripping down her red face, the aftereffects of ecstasy still evident on her face. You turned on your side to face her, putting your hands on your back and pulling her close.

She let out a long, contended sigh and wrapped her arms around your back, and pulling the silk covers over you with her free hand, kissing your collarbone gently as sleep started to overtake her.

“I missed this.” You sigh, closing your eyes and running your hands through her disheveled and messy hair. “I missed you.”

You heard her quietly hum in agreement, before muttering sleepily into your chest. “I love you...”

You smile as her breathing evened against you. You were sure she had already fallen asleep, but that didn’t stop you from responding.

“I love you too, Historia.”

THIS IS SO RUSHED BYE EVERYONE SEE YA