#i miss his sad pathetic aura

[charlie-dowds-migraine]

Julian Devorak <3<3<3

I just miss him sometimes yk

Every once in a while I have to draw him again to get it out of my system

Some older drawings of him from March 13, 2023 apparently wow I didn't think it was that long ago:

I was right, that is the best picture of him

[dufferpuffer]

Dude, I need someone to simp over David Thewlis with and I have no one to go to. I have a feeling I know your opinion about David Thewlis as Remus Lupin (and I think it's a positive one? correct me if I'm wrong, I know some people don't think he did the character justice).

To be honest, I don't think the movies did his character justice, but I think David Thewlis was THE cast for him. The movies made him too soft, too gentle, too perfect. Book Remus is a lot more polarized than that. For every soft quality, he has a YIKES counterpart that is never shown in the movies. The only time we truly see this "yikes" counterpart is the Shrieking Shack scene when he smirks menacingly at Sirius and you think he's a villain. David pulled that off really good. I saw the movie before reading the book (I was a young kid at that time and PoA was too much to read for me) and I felt cheated, I suddenly didn't think I could trust him anymore.

The thing David Thewlis pulled off best, imo, is the fatherly quality of Remus. I know, Remus is a pathetic man with an avoidant personality, but we can't deny he is fatherly. And I feel that, no matter what movie I watch with David in it, the fatherly vibes just radiate from him. In a way I am glad it is like that in the movies because I use PoA as a coping mechanism in life. Stressed? PoA. Sad? PoA. Crisis? PoA. David absolutely nailed the comfy professor aura. Everything about him in PoA is inviting, it draws you in. His voice, his smile, the way he carries himself, his quiet strength. Who could've done it better? I love him.

Enjoy this young David Thewlis edit that I'm obsessed with. Cheers my tumblr friend <3

https://www.tiktok.com/@.dearlupin/video/7410813583577091334

David Threwlis is a fucking GEM and the PERFECT pick for the character in every aspect, yes. I can't think of how anyone could actually think otherwise. He looks perfect and acts perfect.

To the point where I would actually be happy if he played Remus AGAIN for the TV series or whatever - even though he looks so much older. Play up the fact he looks 'older than his age' or do some makeup, I dunno, I don't care. I would be alright with it.

I don't think any of the movies do anyone justice, TBH - ignoring the fact that of course things will have to be trimmed and simplified. I think most people agree though that the way they chose to do so was destructive and missed the point of the overarching story.

OotP and HBP were enjoyable as individual movies - but cut out so, so much that it damages the series as a whole. OotP especially should have been two movies, to REALLY get to know the Order Members, the adult world harry desperately wants to enter - revisit Lupin and Sirius, get attached to the real Moody - set up Tonks... maybe end the first one with Dumbledore leaving...?

But some actors pulled through wonderfully with the limited time they were given to portray their role, Alan Rickman of course being one - and I think David Threwlis is an underrated other. He did fucking BEAUTIFULLY and it made up for imo a half-assed performance from Gary Oldman as Sirius. He has perfect aesthetic and his fatherly moments with Harry were gorgeous... but most of the time he felt like his heart wasn't in it.

Remus, in the movies, HAD to be soft... but always carry a touch of coldness. A comfortable room but the heater isn't on. A cup of tea but you're asked to leave right after. Gentle eyes that pierce. Slightly odd expressions that feel kind, but also... off. He nailed that. Absolutely. That softness that makes you want to cozy up close, but a constant distance that makes you wonder why. Also the mustache was absolute genius. If only they gave him greys...

THIS LOOK? Underrated. SO MUCH PACKED INTO IT. Displeasure, surprise, 'oh shit im in danger' - but then forced innocence, a bit of weariness, a cheeky idea...

How he came out of the darkness, too - Snape specifically calling Lupin to show him the map was meaningful in the books, but Remus walking out of the pitch black was symbolic in the movies. It was a decent change. THIS is when I felt a 'Hm...' about Remus. (I saw it as an adult though, first time last year. I had no idea I'd love him so much.)

I LOVVEEEE going on and on about Remus being a wet tissue paper - because he is so often mischaracterized in so many different ways... but he IS good. He IS strong, compassionate, wise, clever... Fatherly. He will put himself aside to comfort someone in need. He just can't do that for himself. He will punish himself for the things he is gentle with in others.

"His voice, his smile, the way he carries himself, his quiet strength. Who could've done it better? I love him." YEAHYEAHYEAH David can pack layers of depth into every movement he makes. His little head bobbles, the ways his eyes pin on something and stare, his control of exactly how he smiles... ITS SO GOOD AHH

Normally a link to tiktok earns an instant vaporization but you get a pass aight I wont kill you God he's so wonky looking, look at him, he is delightful, I am going to spread him on toast with my vegemite

[somber-sapphic]

Point of No Return

Ya'll, I have a killer headache. Anyways- (wandanat x reader)

You've been feeling depressed for awhile and your girlfriends aren't home. When you let your health go they find you sick and unable to take care of yourself. Depression TW

Word Count: 888

-----

Depression is a fickle thing. It was your girls who convinced you to get help, who held you while you confessed your trauma and who had picked you up in your darkest times. Nevertheless, even with years of therapy and endless support from the women who loved you, you still hit rough patches. 

Sometimes weeks in which you would go without showering and rarely leave your bed. Usually Wanda and Natasha were there to coax you out of it, making sure that you ate and even washing your hair when you couldn’t do it for yourself. That was in most cases. This time, they were away. 

Their mission had been for three months and halfway through the second you’d felt yourself slipping. It started with a missed meal and now, three days before their return, you’d been in bed for a week. The others had tried hard to get you out of your funk, but none of them really knew how to help you no matter how hard they tried. 

You sniffled into your pillow, wiping your runny nose against your sweat soaked pillowcase. Your sheets were far from clean and the fever that you had been fighting off for a few days had them constantly damp. If you had cared enough, you probably would have changed them. Then again, if you had cared enough earlier you wouldn’t have neglected your health to the point of getting sick. 

You blew your nose against your far too thin blanket, well aware of how gross you were. You just didn’t care. That was a common theme as of late. But you knew, as bad as it got, Wanda and Natasha would be home soon and they would make it better. They always made it better.

The cough that had been getting progressively worse, making you wonder if this stupid cold had perhaps turned into a case of bronchitis, rattled through your body, pounding against your aching chest. You tried to smother it against your pillow, but the sound was still awful. Maybe you should get up. You were pretty sure that there was medicine in the cabinet from the last time Wanda had gotten sick. 

You laid there for a while, trying to work up the energy to get up. But even as you pushed the dark thoughts out of your mind, you realized that you weren't physically capable of getting up. You’d let it go on too long, you could barely lift your blanket, muchless walk all of the way to the bathroom. 

Tears began to roll down your cheeks as you realized your situation. You managed to glance at the clock, 5:45 pm. They'd be back any minute. Wanda would insist on making you soup and They’d both cuddle with you for as long as you wanted. 

Quiet sobs wracked your body and you curled up tightly around the sweatshirt the three of you often shared, hugging it to your chest as the tears turned into yet another fit of exhaustive coughing. Spots flashed in your vision as you tried to breathe, your lungs crackling in protest. 

You were getting desperate for air when gentle hands lifted you up, pulling you into a sitting position. You leaned against a warm body, coughing as a beautiful woman with flame red hair pounded on your back, releasing some of the congestion. 

A tissue was pressed to your lips and you spit out a glob of mucus, embarrassment raising high on your cheeks in a deep flush. 

“Hi.” You finally rasped, blinking up at your two girlfriends with what you could only assume was the most pathetic expression. You were met with sad, concerned looks and the glowing red aura of Wanda’s magic. You could feel her in your head, but you didn’t mind. You couldn’t say any of it out loud. 

Natasha leaned over and kissed your temple while she pressed her lips against your hairline. You leaned heavily against them, soaking up their warmth and love. Wanda was infusing your mind with calm, washing away the depression for the time being. It wasn't permanent, it didn’t fix anything, but it would help in the short-term. 

“We’re going to get you a bath, okay love?” Natasha said gently, not giving you an option. You nodded, beginning to cry again. Their love was so strong, you could feel it emanating from the two of them. Wanda sat on the bed beside the two of you and wrapped you up in her arms, speaking to you in soft Sokovian. 

“It’s all going to be okay baby. We’ll get those sheet’s changed, get you some medicine and set up an appointment for when you feel better. We’ll make sure that everything is okay.” Wanda soothed, squeezing one of your hands. 

“‘M sorry.” You whispered, barely getting the words out. It hurt to talk, it hurt to breathe, but at least you weren’t alone anymore. 

“Never apologize for something like this. It’s not your fault.” Natasha murmured, hugging you close. You laid your head against her chest, taking comfort in the fact that they loved you no matter what. There was nothing that you could do to make them stop caring about you. They would always be there for you. In this world where everything felt upside down and unsure, they were permanent.

[bihanspookies]

Same Sides, Different Coin

Summary: 3 weeks after their talk at the bar, JJ gets another chance encounter with Alora.

References made to The Fuck Up.

Warnings: None really, just drinking

JJ couldn’t get Alora out of his head no matter how hard he tried. The way she spoke, how she carried herself, her attitude, her aura— everything was permanently etched into his mind like a tattoo and he wanted more of her. He constantly thought about the way her eyes shined under the cheap lights of the bar, the harsh yellow contrasting against her tan skin and how it gave a sort of mood lighting on the scars that decorated her face.

She looked even better under the moonlight of the night sky and god did she smell so divine when her scent wasn’t mixed in with the awful odors of beer, piss and who knows what else. Every time he thought about it he swore he could faintly smell it: clean clothes and something fruity but not overly powerful. Something subtle… grapes maybe? Did they even make grape scented things?

JJ shakes his head and scoffs lightly, being brought back to the present. It’s been about three weeks since that night and he has not stopped thinking about Alora. He came to the bar the last two Saturdays in hopes he would catch her, nevermind the lie he blurted out that he was there on those days, but she never showed. He had waited until it was closing time, the bartender politely telling him that he had to close his tab. JJ admitted that he was slightly disappointed, a part of him knowing that there was no way in hell that a member of the Black Dragon would willingly meet up with someone who was associated with Special Forces.

No way in hell.

He lets out a heavy sigh, calling the bartender over with a wave of his hand to close out his tab. It’s the same girl from his past three visits, offering a kind and sympathetic smile to JJ when she’s close enough,

“You waitin’ for that pretty girl again?” She says, collecting his glass, eager to hear his response. JJ can’t help but smile, his mouth curling up at the memory at Alora’s pretty face.

“Yeah… kinda pathetic huh?” He chuckles, fishing out a rolled up wad of cash from his pocket and pulling a bill from it. He slides it over to the bartender once she hands him his receipt, letting out a small sigh.

“No, not at all. I think it’s a bit sweet actually. She seems like someone who could use a friend.” The bartender takes his bill and walks to the register to grab his change, leaving JJ briefly alone with his thoughts.

A friend… JJ could do that. He didn’t really have too many of those considering a majority of his time was either spent at Falcon Company or his apartment. He could consider his boys his friends, family really, but it wasn’t the same as having someone outside of your work.

JJ is brought out of his thoughts when the bartender returns with his change, holding the few bills in her outstretched hand.

“Keep it darlin’, least I could do for you keepin’ me company.” The bartender grins, closing her fingers around the money and stuffing them into her apron pocket before giving a nod of appreciation. JJ glances around the bar and then to his watch, noting that he had been at the bar for at least four hours. His fingers drum against the countertop, humming softly to himself as he weighs his options.

Stay until closing or just give it up early and head home.

He could end the night here but what if she showed up right after he left? What if she was already here earlier and he missed her? What if—

JJ shakes his head, a few curls bouncing lightly against him. How much longer could he truly wait for Alora? He didn’t even know what her thoughts were about him after that night. With a heavy sigh he raises his hand towards the bartender, a sad smile on his lips as he grabs his jacket from the stool next to him. The bartender waves goodbye, calling out ‘see you next week?’ To which JJ gives a short nod to. He gets off his seat and makes way to the doors with ease, having gotten more used to his prosthetic leg since then.

He’s nearly halfway across the bar, shrugging his jacket on when there’s a rush of air that flows past him when the door pulls open. Something tells him to look up and he’s glad he listened to the little voice because when he does his heart nearly jumps out his chest.

Alora takes a few steps in, clear agitation on her features when she glances up and locks eyes with JJ. They blink once, twice, three times before Alora visibly lets out a huff, eyes darting around the bar in an attempt to find a different route towards her usual seating. When she can’t find one she chews on the inside of her cheek, heavily debating on just leaving.

But she’s already made eye contact with JJ who is still just standing there like a statue.

It’s when Alora turns back towards the door that he finally moves, broken out of his spell and making way to her. She’s wearing another sleeveless shirt and because of that he notices an odd patchy area on her right shoulder, the skin looking a bit disfigured. The closer he gets the more he sees and when he’s finally within range to touch her, Alora’s out the door with him close behind.

“Hey—“

He can’t help the soft gasp when Alora turns around, her pretty scarred face now colored with yellows and oranges. Instantly his eyebrows knit together, a flash of anger coursing through his chest.

“Your boss do this?” He asks in a low voice. He watches the way her blue-gray eyes float towards the sky, somehow showcasing even more of the bruising on her face.

“Mind your business.” She retorts, void of emotion but JJ can see something behind her facade. She starts walking again but JJ isn’t one to let her get away so easily. He quickened his pace and steps in front of her, holding a hand up in an attempt to get her to stop. The way her eyes narrow sends a chill down his spine but he’s willing to bet that she’s not going to hit him, not with how exhausted she looks on top of her injuries.

“I know you’re a tough lady— feel like my bones are still aching from our fight a few weeks ago but—“ Alora scoffs, effectively cutting him off. She rotates her right shoulder, dull throbs still present from that fight with Kano. She’s mostly healed, it’s just lingering bruises and slight discomfort that still reside in her.

It looks like JJ wants to reach out and touch her, use his calloused fingers to comfort her in any way he can. He can feel them twitching at his sides, itching to feel the warmth of her skin underneath his fingertips.

“Stop bothering me, you don’t know me.” She speaks up, hoping this’ll get him to stop.

“But I want to.”

JJ doesn’t know where it came from, what abruptly gave him the courage to blurt it out but it was true. He could see the minuscule changes in her expression as his statement rings in her ears and all he wanted to do was reach out and smooth his thumb over them.

“You’re an idiot for wanting that.” Alora finally says, breaking eye contact and deciding to stare at something else to avoid the piercing gaze of JJ. He feels the irritation flowing off her, like electric currents but he’s not ready to throw in the towel when she’s right there.

“Have a drink with me. Or a few… look like you could use a couple of those.” He chuckles, using it to hide the sheer nervousness that’s pouring from him. Jeremiah Jedidiah Mitchell is a confident man but something about Alora makes him feel like he’s performing a solo in front of a live audience.

Alora eyes him up and down, fingers tapping against her thigh as she ponders his proposition. She did come to the bar to get away from the base again, feeling suffocated by the stares she was still getting from her peers. Kano had gone back to treating her normal (as normal as he could) but didn’t hesitate to bring up her mistake. Alora even heard from Echo one night when the blonde was applying cream to her injuries, that they had already rescheduled another exchange but in Outworld. It made Alora peeved at how easy it was for them to fix it, the angry face of Kano appearing in her mind before bitterly asking Echo if they could change the subject.

“I’ll pay for them. Even though this ‘human garbage’ doesn't really do it for you.” He adds, lips forming a small grin as Alora finally cracks one in return.

“Fine.” She puffs out, taking one last look up and down JJ’s figure before turning and heading back to the bar. Something about the way she scanned his body made his cheeks warm up, heart buzzing in his chest like a swarm of angry bees just ready to get out.

“Are you coming or what?” She calls out over her shoulder, pulling the door open and looking at him with a raised eyebrow. JJ laughs and nods, hurrying over to Alora and taking hold of the door. He places his arm above her head, gesturing with his free one for her to go inside.

“After you, sweetheart.” He grins down at her, flashing his all too bright all too white teeth as Alora gives a short hum in response. She walks in, eyes scanning to find a decent place to sit while JJ follows.

“There good?” He gestures vaguely towards an empty table near the back and Alora nods, leading the way. As they walk past the bar, JJ makes eye contact with the bartender, who doesn’t bother hiding the ecstatic smile on her face when she catches Alora walking by. JJ grins back and points subtly at Alora, nodding back at her before returning his attention and sliding into the booth.

There’s a bit of tension at first, JJ trying not to pry about Alora’s injuries but eventually she tells him that she got in a scuffle with Kano, that it was ‘no big deal’. He opened his mouth to ask for more information but Alora had stood up and headed to the bar to grab drinks for them.

And then slowly but surely she relaxes; shoulders not quite as tense, posture going a bit slack and eyes softening the tiniest amount. Conversation lacks at first but that was okay with JJ, he didn’t mind the lack of words, he was happy to just be sitting there next to her and be in her company.

But with every drink that passes she puts a little more effort into her answers, adding another sentence after finishing one and then soon she’s asking him questions. JJ swears his heart grows a few sizes when he realizes that she’s comfortable, opening the door just enough for him to peek in and see a glimpse of her true self.

“Wait you’re banned from—“

“Yeah.” Alora groans in annoyance, swirling leftover alcohol in her cup before downing it. She clicks her tongue, glancing at JJ with an unimpressed face. “Won a plush though.”

JJ snickers, shaking his head and lifting his own glass to his mouth. He takes a sip and smacks his lips, turning his body a bit more towards her.

“Yeah but you dented the machine.” He adds with a raised eyebrow, laughing again when Alora waves her hand dismissively.

“That machine was trying to rob me of my very well deserved prize. I think I deserved a little compensation.” She brings her index and thumb finger together, leaving the tiniest amount of space in between them.

“Oh you think you deserved it, huh?” He teases, feeling a bit more confident in trying his luck at flirting with her. She very smugly shrugs, glancing at the bar and debating on getting another drink. JJ takes the moment to look at her, a tender smile growing as he stamps her profile into his mind a little bit more. He doesn’t even realize how hard he’s staring until Alora looks at him, puzzlement crossing her face.

“Something on your mind, cowboy?” She calls out, trying to ignore the flips in her stomach.

“You’re so pretty…” He murmurs, a gentle tilt of his head. His words hang in the air for a second, Alora’s eyes growing from his compliment while her cheeks start to warm. He seems to snap out of his daze, heat rising to his face as he laughs awkwardly and puts a hand to the back of his neck.

“Sorry I uh… didn’t…”

Get a hold of yourself, Jeremiah. Can’t even control your words after a few drinks?

He doesn’t remember being this nervous a few weeks ago when they were chatting on his truck but then again maybe it was the dautho numbing his senses. He clears his throat, breaking eye contact and suddenly feeling as if the rest of the entire bar was staring at his fumble.

“It’s fine.” The soft tone of her voice nearly startles JJ, not expecting such a delicate response from her. He trails his gaze back to her, finding her fiddling with her glass and passing it between her fingers. The corner of his lips quirk up, fingers tapping lightly on top of the table.

“Okay, okay good. I’m glad. Because you are, you know? You’re—“

Jesus Christ Jeremiah, pull yourself together!

“Yeah.” He ends it, laughing and going back to rubbing the back of his neck. Alora chuckles, quietly but it’s loud enough for him to hear it over the music and multiple conversations going throughout the bar.

“Well don’t get shy on me now, old man.” Alora rests her cheek on her fist, smirking at JJ who now seems lost at what to say now. Another nervous chuckle from him, sitting up straight and rotating his body to face her once more.

“I ain’t shy, woman.” He remarks, scoffing and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Can’t be shy in Falcon Company.” He adds with a playful grumble.

The once pleasant smile on Alora’s lips slowly sinks away, replaced with that expressionless face that JJ had just started to forget about. Alora runs her tongue over her teeth, sitting up straight and clearing her throat. She feels like a fool now, the reminder of him being on the complete opposite side of the law hitting her like a baseball bat.

“Yeah. Falcon Company.” She says with a cold tone, her demeanor shifting right in front of JJ’s eyes and he doesn’t know what to do. He’s wondering what exactly went wrong when it clicks in his head.

“Wait—“ He mutters, standing up and latching onto the back of the booth to steady himself.

She stands up and scoots out of the booth, bidding JJ goodnight with a tip of her head and walking towards the exit. He throws a few bills on the table and slides out the booth, hurrying as best he can to catch up with her. He makes eye contact with the bartender, shock on her face and her eyes scanning back and forth between the two of them.

“Wait, when can I—“ His arm extends out to grab onto hers but quickly retreats for fear of overstepping his boundaries. Alora immediately stops in her tracks and spins to face him, her face now sour as if she just bit into a lemon.

“Don’t,” She says curtly. JJ knows what it means, he’s heard it a few times before and it was never followed by anything good.

“This cannot be a routine.” Alora continues, looking straight into his eyes as she prepares to say what’s been on her mind the moment she stepped into the bar tonight. She knew she had to stop it here before she let it proceed any further.

“You’re Falcon Company, a technical enemy of mine. I’m Black Dragon. This,” She gestures between the two of them with her finger, the dark red polish he had noticed throughout the night, vaguely reminding him of his truck.

“Cannot happen. Whatever this is— was? It can’t happen.” There’s a firm tone set in her voice but JJ can tell there’s something else laced beneath it.

Doesn’t hurt him any less though.

“Look sweetheart,” But he doesn’t get to finish his sentence because Alora turns and makes her way out the bar, pushing open the wooden door and letting it slam loudly behind her. He does his best to get to her, shoving the door with more force than necessary and nearly tripping onto the ground when it gives away.

“Alora!”

That makes her stop, her auburn braids whipping as she spins to face him. There’s clear agitation on her face but JJ doesn’t care, he has to talk to her and try to level with her.

“Please! Just—“ He finally reaches her, shaking his head to get rid of the dizziness from all his drinking and sudden movement.

"I have never met a girl like you--" JJ stumbles over his words as her ice cold eyes stay hardened, "I know— I know that the people movin' the pieces on the board want us to hate each other, but I don't want that!"

“Once again, you don’t know me. And it doesn’t matter what you want, JJ. This shit is dangerous for the both of us and I am not going to risk my life for you.” The harshness in her voice doesn’t scare him, having been in countless dangerous situations due to his occupation. No, what scares him is how much he wants to keep talking to her and how genuinely fearful he is to have her slip through his fingers.

“I wouldn't let anything happen—“ He mumbles, trying to quickly think of something more convincing to say.

Alora scoffs, almost mockingly. “You think I need you to protect me?"

"No! I mean, of course not, but— we, I could be careful. We don't have to meet at the bar.” He’s practically begging at this point, stepping an inch closer to Alora without really knowing it.

"Why do you want to meet with me so badly anyway?" She asks. The question lacks anger or malice and she shakes her head with the barest hint of pity present before it disappears.

JJ opens and closes his mouth multiple times, shrugging and trying to convey something he doesn’t even know the answer to.

“This ends here. Goodnight.” Before JJ can even get another word out she’s already walking off, small clouds of dirt trailing behind her every footstep. He watches her until he can’t no more, her figure getting smaller and smaller.

It’s when she’s completely out of sight that he recognizes her scent as cucumber and melon.

——-

Alora finally makes it back to base, her conversation with JJ playing over and over in her head. Why the hell was he so insistent on continuing to talk? Fucking ignorant, foolish, old—

“Hey sweetheart!”

Alora doesn’t even bother hiding the face of disgust when she hears Jesse Geller calling out to her. She looks up to her left to see him speaking with Kano, the Aussie giving a short nod to her. She makes a vague gesture of a hello back before continuing her way to her room. She hears Jesse quickly utter something to Kano before he trots to her, his boots scraping against the cement floor and Alora so badly wants to rip them off and chuck them at his head. Jesse stops in front of her, whistling when he takes in the state of her bruised state.

“Now what happened to this pretty face of yours, darlin’?” His faux concern has her rolling her eyes, arms crossing over her chest. Jesse steps an inch closer, Alora taking a step back from him.

“Mind your damn business, Geller.” Jesse puts his hand over his heart, feigning hurt and pretending to hiss in pain.

“Girly got a lesson taught to her. Ain’t that right, love?” Kano’s voice booms across the room, reminding Alora that he was still there and watching the interaction. There’s only so many times she can roll her eyes before they get stuck in the back of her head.

“Fuck you, you got your fucking materials didn’t you?” She calls back, brushing past Jesse and trying to end the conversation. Jesse chuckles, swiveling his head to keep watching her.

“Lesson? Kind of lesson?” Jesse asks, an odd almost playful tone in his voice. Alora takes a moment to compose herself, wondering if he’ll go away faster if she plays along.

“Screwed over a deal.”

“Deal? How?”

“Socked a guy at the bar.”

“And how’d that—”

“Video.” She cuts him off, answering quickly to just get the hell out of there.

There’s an unusual expression on Jesse; curiosity but something else. Something that told Alora he wasn’t as surprised as he should’ve been.

“Video, huh?” He asks, the corner of his lips twitching. She narrows her eyes at him, opening her mouth to say something but Kano cuts her off.

“Oi, quit yankin’ her chain, Geller.” Kano’s laugh is mocking, enjoying the scene playing out in front of him.

“Boss showed me the video, sugar.” Jesse remarks with an arrogant grin.

“Oh ver a comer mierda.” She turns and leaves them behind, her fuse already nearing its end by the time she turns left and disappears down a hallway. She can hear Jesse’s laugh, Kano’s mixing a few moments later and for a split second she wishes she stayed at the bar to keep on talking to JJ.

———-

Echo: @roofgeese

Jesse/JJ: @chadillacboseman

Oh ver a comer mierda: Oh go eat shit

[venusruledmuse]

Notes to self as I try to get over my crush:

1. I am okay with people missing out on me.

2. At some point, ur just too exhausted and fed up to care anymore?! He grown, he can do whatever he wants! Release ur grip girl and free urself of the stressing the worrying the overthinking... like at some point its too much I can find someone else who doesn't stress me out like u do and can give me a worry free lifestyle

3. Let fate handle it. As with all things that are true and from the heart, if it's meant to be, fate will find a way. It's more beautiful and poetic that way anyway!

4. Focus on ur skincare routine and studies instead!!! Get ur glow up, get ur value up, get ur price up ✨️

5. What would Choi Hyeseon (from Singles Inferno) do? Acknowledge ur self worth like her and be willing to walk away from anyone!

6. "I can do it with a broken heart."

7. Sometimes... it's better to be the person that is just out of reach.

8. At the end of the day, I care about him, I want him to be happy, and I don't want him to be hurt.

9. Become a shrouded mystery.

10. Pretend ur a heartbroken Chinese empress in ancient times drinking away her sorrows.

11. Sad to see you destroy the image I had of you in my head. So disappointed and disheartening to realize he's not the sweet, strong, self assured, smart, emotionally mature, gentle, thoughtful, lowkey, dignified, introverted guy u had fallen for, who u trusted, who made u feel safe. Such a unique grief im feeling. Grieving the bond we had. Grieving the guy I thought I knew, and the pathetic insecure self centered petty average guy that replaced him. The guy who was my friend. Maybe that guy only lives in my head. Maybe I made him up.

12. Find the humor and lightness in the situation. Like if u didn't have feelings for him, if u didnt care so much about what he does, if u didnt care that he liked u, u would think: is he okay?????? Maybe he needs space...

13. Absence and inspiring/engaging negative emotions of loss.

14. You r a catch, u have the credentials to back it up, you are desirable, you r not constantly just there for him no matter what. never forget ur worth. Put yourself on the pedestal. They prove themselves to you. They are winning or losing out on you. Not the other way around. If ur love is unconditional, then it won't inspire a feeling of losing/winning for him.

15. The moment he makes u feel disrespected and unsafe and anxious. Take away access. Remove yourself from the equation. Friendship privileges (caring) r gone. Take the power back. It's okay if he wants another girl! Wish him the best! He can go! Hope he finds and chases what he's looking for out there!

16. This post below. You are his heart and soul. His core values exemplified. Everywhere else is hollow.

17. He lost: my care, my dynamic aura/humor, the vibe I give ppl, his motivation, and my vision of him. He can't find the universe I created for him (the music, the food, the art) anywhere else. Ya can't fix me into a box. I'm just that girl!

18. Read it ends with us again... both u and lily bloom deserve atlas, not ryle!!!

19. Ickkkkkk

20. He wants a superficial blonde sorority girl, he can go have her! I know who I am and I love my world and my universe my life and being me so that ain't stressing me out. He can go stress out another girl

21. High value women like go aeishin, hyeseon make choices out of self love and have a strong core. They have rules for themselves and others and they do not bend those rules. They stand on business. They command respect and so attraction.

22. Recognize when someone is toxic for ur heart and health. Pulling away from him is an act of self love.

23. Disillusioned with his image of me. I'm smart, I'm talented!!! There's a toxic pattern where he likes a girl that feeds his ego, that is a people pleaser, that is a hopeless romantic, that centers their life around him. Why does he never compliment her talents, her skills, her capabilities? I want respect and admiration, not attachment.

25. "If u don't speak up for yourself, they'll think ur stupid." -sza's grandma

I'm nobody's fool. Im not going to be remembered as someone who wasted their time on him, just for him to say he is no longer attracted. Im not going to have a boy crazy reputation. Im not there to stroke his ego, for him to get off on my devotion. I'm not a footnote in his life as an epic hero. It's my dreams. My goals. My wants. MY loves. I'm the main character. I'm the it girl. I'm that bitch.

26. Affirmation: I don't want him, I am out of his league, he is not up to my standards. His petty trivial games is giving insecure NPC... its below me. A girl destined for big things don't have time for the small shit to get her down... let the players of stupid games win stupid prizes, I've got bigger missions

27. Hated the way he described the women in his life. "She was alright at soccer" everything was always in relation to him, he never described the women as goated, the only girl he truly respected seemed unattainable to him.

28. I love myself and my life and a man should fit into it, and enhance and upgrade my lifestyle, not make it worse. I should not be contouring myself to fit into his life. I will not blow up my life to be with him.

29. I'm that girl. My vibe is addictive. He craves my attention. Call me dust the way you will return back to me.

30. Remember yumi's cells.

31. He said "you can't turn a hoe into a housewife" omfg....... he's literally so fcking shallow and toxic.

32. He said a girl was into him but he wasn't into her.... literally all girls r just ego boosts to him

33. I'm tired of exhausting myself over him. He likes girls chasing after him but I will not be blowing up his phone.

34. Crazy how easy I fall out of love when I lose respect for someone.

35. U r allowed to outgrow ppl.

36. This boy made u so sad u went home in the middle of the work day. Like ... be ur own protective older sister. Connecting with him is self sabotage girl.

37. He hurt me so bad that he singlehandedly cured my people pleasing tendencies, be unapologetic in my decisions and doing what's best for me, helped me stand on business, learn to say no and be inaccessible/unavailable to people, be more strict and disciplined with myself, value my own feelings/needs, stopped always being on the losing end, care less about what people think of me, stop chasing love from ppl and instead seek respect, prioritized my own personal appointments, and focus on my competence, inner confidence, and internal validation. I gotta treat myself well and not tolerate bare minimum and bs from myself in order to not tolerate that shit from others. From now on I am high maintenance.

38. What a privilege to be a character that experiences my love and attention, to be seen from my point of view. What a privilege to get to have the sue experience. Not everyone gets it.

39. "It's only because you love them. You are their source of power."

[honeybeekao]

top 10 enstars

im gonna take this as meaning characters just know im giggling at this

1. rei - who's surprised? no one. his aura is alluring if youre not ritsu so i think im justified. also im mentally ill and he's mentally ill and ive decided we're mentally ill together. vampires with back pain and gay tendencies unite. he's such a kind creature there's so much love in his heart, and i wanna hug him!! i think people should pull him out of his coffin more, if only to make sure he's alright because god can he isolate. if you get me started on how rei feels about himself i'll start sobbing, he doesnt feel human due to being placed on the highest pedestal and othered his entire childhood and i just want him to feel worthy of love. also need him to recognize the love HE feels is real and not evil and he's not evil and OUGDHDHZJ rei's so sweet he's my favorite weirdo, i love him

2. oh god okay Madara - i actually cant pick between him and kaoru sometimes so these two are interchangeable. i think madara's like the most interesting character ever, theres something wrong with him BUT it isnt in the way that /he/ thinks. he isnt a monster and i think he deserves to be held gently. also he needs to wear a wedding dress and more flowy sleeves in my opinion he's sooo pretty he's beautiful he's gorgeous. his whole outlook on religion being disdain and sorrow is understandable, i think the conversation with kanata where kanata says "you cant say such things, you need to respect it even if it isnt real. because it's real to them" - i think it's a little profound. he doesnt wanna respect something predatory and dangerous and life threatening, not to mention the worst thing of all, it hurt KANATA. which madara will never forgivw or respect. fuck you fish cult

3. kaoruuuuuu - i adore kaoru my aro babygirl my lovely poor sad little man, do you think if someone asked to take a selfie with him he'd get flustered? i think so. actually just boosting his ego would be fun because you know he's so pathetic IM NORMAL ABOUT KAORU I SWEAR okay Okay i think he's really sweet and deserves the world. he's oblivious and that's okay. also i need him to fix izumi for me because im not doing that (yes i am but dont tell him or izumi) date plan is like my favorite story, i love his conversation with rei soooo much. he's a little gay. (he's very gay) kaoru doesnt understand girls he should talk to arashi. also transfem kaoru fandom where are youu

4. chiaki - sweetie lovely "only enstars character with morals" my wonderful little hero boy, i dont think i need any justification if you dont like chiaki i don't trust you /j. he makes me feel so many emotions, i think everything he's done is so impressive because at a point he was Terrified that he couldn't do anything that he reeeaaally wanted to do. but he got there, eventually. scrimbly of a guy, he's so silly i totally believe he ends up in the hospital every month and kanata scolds him for it . and kaoru tsks at him for it and they both love him this is what i'm saying. ryuseitai as a unit are here too because i adore them all with my entire heart

5. rinne - never thought he'd be here but i'm also glad he is despite his attitude flaws. he's a bitch and i love him!! he's fucking ridiculous sometimes like i love that it's canon he's pretended to be walking a runway because of his FS outfit. also his ways of getting things to work, while insane and good god why would you do that, it makes him so interesting. i cant believe this man exists in the enstars universe he's like an anomaly to me (oh did i mention he also has the "im not human" issue? all of my blorbos are ill) he's pretty. dont tell him that. or do, see what happens he probably needs to hear it. he feels he's disappointed hiiro already and so he avoids him which also makes me unbelievably sad. please hug your little brother he misses you. i promise you didn't disappoint anyone!!!

6. izumi - i joke that he's my problematic fav but i think what happened here is he has the perfectionism illness that leads to self destruction and mean approach to loving others. and i understand this on a level due to people in my life, i think he deserves a caring hand and should also get shoved a couple times. like once a year. i got obsessed with ironic blue and i Never went back im not sorry. ALSO HE'S SO EASY TO BOTHER i think kaoru should challenge him to more shit it's incredibly entertaining, those two <3 there's something wrong with him and He knows it and Everyone knows it, No One here is acknowledging it though!

7. kohaku - I LOVE KOHAKU he's so funny he's like an oddball but isnt an oddball and it's because he fucking grew up on the internet! i love that he treats his 2 units like a day and night job umm DOES HE EVER SLEEP? dear enstars dear cospro, he's 15 that isn't healthy. he makes me sad because he's still a kid and will continue to sorta be a kid because of growing up in such a Way. being locked away by your assassin family cannot do anything good for your mental health. i'm glad he has companions though, and i'm sure he at least has fun in idol stuff. how the fuck does he deal with rinne AND madara daily? i think i'd die. dealing with them in my head is already a nightmare sometimes /affection

8. keito - picking these is not difficult actually im having fun. KEITO HASUMI'S MY POOR LITTLE MEOW MEOW dear god i look at him in any given moment and go Awwwww........ 😰 i love him so much. how can you be so stuck up yet So prone to causing problems. it's so fucking funny he's a little embarrassing and i think is very easy to mess with. madara says he's taking kuro away to be a solo unit and keito flips his shit he feels SO betrayed, this poor guy. i would say he's gullible, but that one's more on the sense of He doesnt trust madara at all and can totally envision that being the truth, hey madara at least one person thinks youre capable!! <3 keito's so normal and so very unhinged all at once, i love his glasses and his intertwining story with eichi and rei, i love his unit. akatsuki my beloveds i really like all 3 of them dearly

9. ritsu - oh ritsu dear ritsu you make me so sad i dont know what to do with myself. he can't stand change because it feels like loss to him, cough cough thisll happen when your brother is gone cough, but his home in knights is everything. he's sooo smart and i love when he's content and happy. just chilling out, he deserves it and i think him sharing that with others is really sweet. i think ritsu should take more shared naps with people, all of knights should nap more!! especially tsukasa. him and mao are insane to me i havent looked into them too much so you arent getting analysis, but mao's very obviously important to him

10. natsume - i love this witch boy with all my heart, probably just as much as i love the transmasc hc for him. i think he's a fucking genius, i think he's gonna dominate the world with his powers, i think he's insane but he's too little to be scary. also war era makes me Cry, the other oddballs were protecting him from as much of the evil as possible, sobs weeps hits the pavement. switch are very important to me.. i Love natsume's design they outdid themselves when creating him, coolest hair Ever..i think he should've had fangs though. Give natsume fangs and a trans flag thank u

honorable mentions!!

kanata, arashi, niki, mayoi, hinata, souma, hokke, shinobu

[iconicanemone]

A friend of a little Ghost

Ao3

It wasn’t human crying. It was most definitely non-human. Probably animal, but you never knew with mobs. It honestly sounded to false like a ghast, but perhaps it was more like a Sad little Ghost

I saw some art of a little ghostly fella following Empires!False around, so I ended up writing this.

I don’t watch False, and there are probably a lot of details wrong with this, but oh well ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

False was working on ‘cleaning’ up the base her counterpart had abandoned when she left through the rift when she heard crying. 

It wasn’t human crying. It was most definitely non-human. Probably animal, but you never knew with mobs. It honestly sounded to false like a sad ghast, but not airy enough.

The crying wasn’t coming from this side of the building. Leaving her counterpart’s build, False entered the bridge leading over to Joe’s old apartment.

False didn’t really know Joe. She wished she got to know him more. He seemed like a decent fellow. And he certainly made the apartment his own. She swore she didn’t put that staircase there, but shoving it into the corner instead of having it in the middle of the room did make the apartment more open.

False shook her head, focusing more on finding whatever was crying.

The sound was loud and piercing, and led her to what looked to be a bedroom. The only bedroom really that False could find. So it was probably Joe’s. And there on the lime green bed, was a cat.

Black and white in that tuxedo pattern, the cat was curled up on the pillow, ears flat in sorrow as it cried out, its transparent paws clenching at the pillow.

Oh yeah. The cat also looked like a ghost. So that means it probably was a ghost? False wasn’t too sure.

“Uh, hello there little one.” She said, walking over to sit on the other side of the mattress. “What’s wrong?” 

The cat looked up at False, its mouth wide as it let out a long cry before it starting inching over towards her, clawing into the comforter. 

“Joe had all those cats around, and you’re in Joe’s place.” False said, filling the silence that came as the cat pushed a noise into her thigh. It had more substance than she thought a ghost cat would have, so she moved her hand to lightly pet the ghostly feline. “I would assume you're his.”

The cat looked up at her, letting out a sad but quiet sound, before it curled up next to her. 

“You’re probably missing him.” False said, sighing. “He was here, but then he left through the rift.”

False solidly ignored the rhyme that came from it.

“It was probably best that he didn’t bring you along as he left.” False said after a beat. “He had a bunch of other cats around there, and I’m pretty sure they all got killed.” She looked down at the ghostly kitty. “I’m not entirely sure how that would work with you though. Maybe you would die a second time? Or were you born a ghost? I don’t really know how ghosts work.” 

The cat stayed silent this time, an aura of sadness clearly radiating from it.

False sighed again. “Maybe you’ll find him again. Some day.” She shrugged, her shoulders sticking by her ears. “Maybe? I don’t know how rifts work really.”

Maybe that was something she should have figured out a while ago.

“But hey!” She said, trying to break the awkward silence. “Maybe you could hang around my place while you’re waiting? It’s not perfect, but my place isn’t that far away from here, so you can keep an eye out for Joe.” 

She didn’t really know what she was doing, talking to a cat as if it could understand her. But the cat did look up, a pathetic look on its face as it sighed. Dejectedly it stood up and walked out of the room.

False assumed that it was saying yes to False’s offer? In a cat way or something. 

Deciding to follow the cat’s example False stood up and followed it out of the apartment. 

[leyyvi]

aaa are you. ready for a sad Levi headcanon.

basically, Levi hates taking photos. Sometimes the survey corps members have to pose for official portraits (perhaps one for all the leaders and one for all the recruits/cadets); Levi absolutely detests these moments and refuses to even look at the finished result. It’s because he can’t stand to see the way his eyes look; all he sees is a tired, broken old man. Someone so angry and battered and scared; forced into the cage that is the title of “Humanity’s Strongest”. He also sees the photos his recruits are in, sees the innocence and dedication in their eyes; he wonders how many more of them he’ll fail to protect, and he hates himself even more.

I’m sorry idk why I’m so mean to Levi I swear he is my fav

Bestie I had to take the whole day to process this and i might need an extra business day to recover. 

Are you sure he's your fave??? ARE YOU SURE???

Though your VERY PAINFUL headcanon reminded me of part of this post-manga ending fic in my wips. It's very angsty but  I'm just returning the favor :)))

It’s silent for a moment, the two of you pausing to take a sip of the tea. He observes you intently for your reaction. You exhale a satisfied sigh at the taste, immediately raising the cup back to your lips for another drink. A small wave of pride washes over Levi, knowing he picked a flavor you’d take a liking to.

“They’re very well-mannered,” you praise, “You’ve taught them well.”

He scoffs lightly, “Only around guests, after business hours they’re a pain in the ass.”

You’re giggling at his remark, it’s a soothing sound, Levi decides. His lip twitches upwards hearing your laughter. You lean back against the countertop across from him, taking another sip.

“How long has your café been around?”

“Just a year, haven’t been here for long.”

You brush a few strands of hair behind your ear in thought.

“What did you do before opening it?”

There’s a long pause before he answers your question, his brow unconsciously furrowing as he carefully considers his reply. “I was a soldier.”

You don’t look surprised. Probably obvious considering the state he’s in, completely fucking battered. A scarred face, nearly wheelchair bound, missing fingers, shit, even an eye. A small part of him grows self conscious when he remembers just how much of him has changed on the outside. 

He’s used to people being afraid of him, shying away from him. He’s well aware of the aura he’s given his whole life. But now, it’s different. He can’t distinguish if it’s fear now, or pity. If it’s the latter, he feels pathetic. Humanity’s strongest soldier reduced to a broken mess.

He knows you’re uncomfortable now, as you’re shuffling your feet and tapping your fingers on the counter as your gaze moves everywhere but him. Maybe he should’ve lied to spare you of the sadness that’s crawled into your eyes.

[wiremotherenergy]

my tiktok algorithm thinks im 16 again so here is MY ideal casting of if they ever make a movie of the secret history (which i both doubt and dont want) cause ive seen way too many wrong videos. first. richard MUST be gravely misinterpreted as the good guy actually and i demand he be played by a quirky charming hollywood ingenue. less weird than timothee chalamet and more weird than tom hollad are the example vibes, like miles teller pre-topgunification, or when logan lerman was in perks of being a wallflower. the cute preteen girlcrush vibe is so important for the whole direction of the movie, and if there are y/n fanfics about him on tumblr thats a plus. next the class which in my opinion should be a bunch of overall unknown/indie actors where maybe they were in an older a24 movie or mainly do theatre or are like an obscure nepo baby. a good vibe for francis typecast wise would be jaeden martell or even noah schnapp - former portrayals of sad gay children not required but has to believably have been a sad gay child (i want the ginger hair to specifically look too fake, think archie riverdale). this is already so long jesus. charles opinion (unpopular amongst dane dehaan fancast community) is i dont want him to look sleazy at all i want him to be an all american charm prettyguy type i want them to do the same thing they did when hbo cast ncw as jaime in got, except i unfortunately dont think the actor theyd get for charles would have the range to give the complex deep performance ncw did but the guy that played the love interest in where the crawdads sing movie that i saw begrudgingly is like, an acceptably flat boring option. with henry i think you could possibly go with making him poc (most probably asian) as either "blind casting" or "updating the source material" since im not sure if a major enough part of the people who would actually go see this movie would care enough about how its missing the point of the story. still this hypothetical movie would have bad reviews anyways. i predict he would have something a lil fucked up or quirky going on with his face. camilla i want to be a girl who is maybe a model or friends with lily rose depp predominantly, in the same category as the girls they got for the new pll, NOT mia wasikowska but the vibe of when mia wasikowska played jane eyre. and in a hotd world i would even suggest milly alcock cuz i think she could agree to that and it would be fun (mia goth could have been this but shes having her big moment now and has too much of a fanbase). in a compeltely opposite vein they literally have to get a random brashy popstar girlie to play judy, like charli xcx or bhad bhabie or even just go nuts with it and get keke palmer to do it. whats important is star factor and general chaotic messy vibe. bunny is difficult bc on one hand it would be fun to me if they made bunnys character the sweet poor little pathetic niceguy whose mean friends bully him for being fat stereotype but on the other hand a guy who has the aura of a victorian dandy meets content house fuckboy oscar wilde part time model would be absolutely perfect. maybe they could do both i want it to be both. and finally julian and now i get to the tiktok that made me think about this for over an hour straight i saw someone say richard gere and to that i say yes that absolutely makes sense. pick a former hollywood romcom guy whos old now but people still call him a daddy even though he is definitely way too old for that. hugh grant is also an option. im literally so smart

[allthingsarmin]

fckboy armin? + degredation is always a good combination <3

I was so excited to write this dose of Armin brainrot, omg 😩

If it’s alright with you, anon, I did this request in more of a headcanon format, but the ending is more of a fanfiction format. I’m also sorry I took so long to write this omg.

MINORS DNI!

Fem!Reader, FemBodied!Reader

TW: Mentions of NSFW topics + degradation, mean!armin, manipulation, fuckboy topics

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin whose style resembles that of the horny, manipulative, ghost-y men on campus yet is just too hot for you to handle. The way he wears dark silver rings on his left thumb, middle, and pointer fingers that accentuate his slender, pale fingers and clean-cut nails. The way the small, dark tattoos on his knuckles, right forearm, and collarbone add an aura of mystery and aggression to his being that just exudes sex. The way he wears a gold chain necklace with distressed jeans and a plain t-shirt that’s just a little too tight and shows off his pecks. Or the way he wears long black joggers and an oversized long-sleeve black shirt that makes him look taller. The way he doesn’t wear his mask correctly, always hanging on one of his ears which compliment his stud earrings and devilish smirk. The way he is broke because he’s always spending money on the newest, trendy shoes. The way he always uses way too much cologne… One look at him, and you can sense his ‘asshole attitude,�� but you can’t deny it makes your lower regions pulsate.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who’s body is so perfectly sculpted and toned that it leaves you thinking dirty thoughts in class. The way he sits in class with his sleeves rolled up, laying back relaxed in the chair, right leg bouncing out of boredom as his hard cock becomes noticeable in his grey sweatpants makes you want to run to your dorm and touch yourself. The way his abs call out to you to graze your fingertips against them when he lifts his shirt up to wipe away the sweat after walking home from the gym. The way his beautifully slender fingers hold his phone or push his hair back when he’s frustrated makes you think about how good they would feel inside you. The way his accentuated collarbone peaks through his thin t-shirts, allowing you to see the hickeys and imprints of love bites from god knows how many women makes you jealous. The way his skin is so pale and so soft that his blonde leg hair becomes barely noticeable. The way his golden hair brings out a plethora of the shades of blue in his eyes, and oh how his haircut suits him perfectly, shaping his jawline very well. How his beautiful blue eyes dangerously lure you into him, the soft but manipulative stares he gives you. How he can’t seem to maintain eye contact with you for more than three seconds because he looks at your breasts. The sinister yet sexy smiles he has plastered upon his face when talking with his friends about ‘some other whore’ he fucked the other day… Armin is attractive, and he knows he is attractive. Though you hate how arrogant his looks have made him, his suggestive stares and lip bites from such a handsome man make your heart flutter and mind only focused on one thing.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who is always posting thirst traps on instagram. You know… The pictures with the squinted eyes and the bitten lower bottom lip, either showing off his money or new shoes, pictures beside a nice car, suggestive pictures with the new girls he’s been fucking recently, biting his chain necklaces because he thinks it’s sexy. Only follows ‘successful’ men and offensive meme accounts but mostly follows half-naked women and supermodels. Leaves nasty comments on ugly womens’ pictures, calling them whores while he’s in hot girls’ DMs sending unsolicited dick pics and asking for nudes. Has thousands of followers, mostly from the party girls and rude men who go to his college. Won’t let you tag him in a photo unless he ‘looks hot.’

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who takes slutty gym pictures with his shirt off, abs out, shorts low enough to see his V line, hands in his hair, and a wink. Sends it to every girl in his snapchat contacts and posts it on his story with the ‘slide up’ text.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who hits you with the “you up?” at 2am on snapchat after ghosting you for two months. Tells you how much he misses your lewd moans and sloppy cunt, and then after pressuring you to give him nudes, he saves them and then doesn’t talk to you for at least a week.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who is so intelligent and dangerously manipulative. Who is so smart that he doesn’t need or want to pay attention in class, who convinces you to let him keep the nudes you sent him on snapchat, who reels you right back in when you try to move on from him.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who was nice to you at first, befriending you when you looked so alone, shy, and innocent, who only chose you because you looked so easy to take advantage of when he finally closes in on you.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who says he doesn’t want ‘any of that relationship stuff’ because all of his exes were crazy and that he only wants to date hot chicks.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who only texts you at ungodly hours during the weekdays and plays games like ‘20 questions’ with you so he can ask you if you’re either a virgin or a whore, if you like oral, if you’ve thought about him in dirty ways before… or truth or dare, asking you if you if you want to be his slut or daring you to send him lewd pictures of yourself.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who takes every chance he can get to turn anything sexual: the way your skirt is just a little too short that makes him suddenly grab your upper thighs, the way you innocently lick your ice cream cone on a hot summer day - he tells you to put your tongue on his cock instead, how you put your hair up in a high ponytail just makes him want to pull on it and kiss the crook of your neck… it all leaves him clouded with dirty thoughts.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who calls you ‘babe’ and refers to you as his ‘girl’ even though he has a million bitches on the side.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who makes you feel like shit about yourself because he’s constantly sending you womens’ profiles on Instagram, saying you should look more like them and ‘get a nicer ass.’

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who becomes more controlling as your sexual relationship continues, basically forcing you to let him check your phone in case you're messaging other dudes and being naughty for men besides him but gets defensive when you want to see his phone.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who refuses to eat you out but expects you to praise his cock with your slutty mouth and wet tongue.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who doesn’t really care about your personal problems or pain, and whenever you tell him you’re hurting on the inside, he offers to let you come over to his house so that he can fuck you: “once my cock is inside you again, you’ll forget all about your sadness.”

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who doesn’t use condoms because he ‘can’t feel anything’ when he wears them, so he just assumes that you’re on birth control when he cums inside you.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who violates your privacy when he’s online gaming with his closest friends, Eren and Jean, as he tells them through the microphone about how tight and wet your pussy is and how much you enjoy being treated like a slut, your mouth full of his cock and pussy dripping with his cum… going as far as sending secretive videos he took of you to them where you’re whimpering and begging for Armin’s cock.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who pressures you to do risky things you don’t want to do, but you just can’t find the courage to say no to him when he stares at you with his intense blue eyes… like when he asks you to sit next to him in the back of the class then without your approval, sneaks his slender fingers into your panties and starts harshly playing with your clit. He devilishly smirks as you try to suppress your cries of disapproval. Or like when he convinces you to let him take videos of you when you’re in a position that exposes your slick cunt to him so well. Or even how he manipulates you into trying something new that you’ve never been comfortable with, like swallowing his thick cum, letting him put you in a full-nelson, maybe letting him choke you while he spits in your mouth.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who finally closes in on you, begging you to help him study for the upcoming test since he wasn’t paying attention in class because ‘you’re just so distracting’ to him, acting so smart and innocent and respectably in front of the teacher when Armin really knows that your slutty outfits and wet pussy says otherwise… so you excitedly go over to his dorm, thankful that finally it will be a normal get-together where you could actually find out more about Armin instead of finding out more about how he likes his cock sucked. Upon entering his dorm, it is apparent that he never planned on studying with you as his textbooks are nowhere to be found, and he is sitting on the couch half-naked with Netflix on the TV.

ᵔᴥᵔ “Oh hey, y/n, didn’t expect to see you here so soon,” he says nonchalantly. You unknowingly stare at his broad shoulders, his strong chest, and of course his V-line that is not hard to miss as he carelessly talks shit about his teachers. “See something you like?” arrogance seething from his teeth as he brushes back his blond hair. You don’t say anything as your face grows red. He takes your hand and leads you to the couch. “Come on, let’s watch something.”

ᵔᴥᵔ The sound of skin slapping drowns out the voices on the TV. You don’t even know how Armin managed to get you into this position again where you’re so submissive under him, giving into him yet again. He flips you over on your back, and he props himself up, looking over your figure that’s so pathetically displayed below him. You can see his angelic hair stick to his forehead as the sweat drips down his soft but sharp cheeks. The look in his eyes has gone dark, and his smile is sinister as if he was a predator about to devour a prey. He wickedly laughs as you grind your needy cunt against his hard cock. This is where he really gets mean.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin loves to degrade you like the whore you are, constantly reminding you just how easy you are to take advantage of, how easy you are to win over with just some dick, how easy it is to make your sloppy cunt squirt and tingle from multiple orgasms, how easy it is to make you whimper and beg for his thick cock to make a complete mess of your pussy.

ᵔᴥᵔ “You really didn’t think I invited you over just to study, did you?” he snickers as he cruelly and slowly thrusts into your aching cunt, making eye contact with you and grinning as your face turns red. He grabs your throat, choking you, and begins to thrust faster which pulls shaky moans from under your breath. He inches close to your ear and whispers, “you even came over here without wearing underwear under that short skirt of yours…” he switches to the other ear, “and when I started touching your dirty cunt during the movie, you were already so wet,” you shiver at his words. He pulls back and gives you a gentle slap with his left hand, his rings stinging your face, and uses his right hand to twist your perky nipples. He begins to laugh, “but I’m not surprised that a filthy slut like you - my filthy slut - would think of such impure thoughts during something as innocent as watching a movie.” Armin leans closer to your face again, still thrusting into you at a quick pace. His warm breath raises goosebumps on your skin. He harshly grabs your mouth and tells you to open, which you submissively comply with, and he spits into your mouth which causes you to whimper. He smacks the side of your thigh. “You like being treated like some depraved slut don’t you?” You don’t reply, but the fluttering in your tight pussy says otherwise. He flips you onto your stomach, your breasts mushing into the couch, and without warning, he forces his girthy cock into your tight pussy. He is thrusting into you at an ungodly pace, making you scream and moan incoherent words. “What’s my little slut saying? Use your words, baby,” he teases. At this point, you can only call out his name. “A-armin…” He begins to torturously thrust into that one spot, and within seconds, you're bucking your hips, intensely squirting onto his couch and leaving a sopping wet dark spot. “Fucking whore, gonna have to buy a new couch because you can’t control your filthy cunt,” he growls into your ear. He quickly flips you over onto your back again, wanting to see your face. Your face is contorted with such pleasure; your eyes are rolled to the back of your head, and your mouth is wide open with drool dripping down your jaw. Armin shudders, his cock getting even harder in your tight pussy. “So hot… such a lewd slut.” He immediately brings out his phone, taking a picture. “Want me to show my friends what a cock-hungry whore you are?” You quickly nod. “So fucking pathetic,” he snarls. “I’m going to destroy your cunt, slut.” He shoves his warm tongue in your mouth, gently grabbing the hair on your foggy head. “I’m gonna break you in so bad,” he mumbles, wiping the tears from your face.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who maybe in fact does want to have that ‘relationship shit’ with you ~

__________________________

Requests are open, and feedback is appreciated <3

[mizunetzu]

Heyo!! Can I request a Kuroo x male reader, where yn goes to give him a love letter one day, but he sees him with his new girlfriend??? And he’s like-sad and he tears up the note and he moves on??? But then one day kuroo asks to talk to him, and he confesses to reader, but since reader already moved on he doesn’t accept??? Angsty ending if you will 💔💔💔 thank you, Mr. Mizunetzu !!

Hi paola ily paola hee hee

——————

Kuroo x reader - you did once...

⚠️Warnings - Kuroo gets a gf, angst, not so much of a good ending?

Pronouns- male, he/him

You can find part two here!

——————

“(Y/n), can I talk to you real quick?”

(Y/n) looked up from adjusting his loose kneepad, and wiped a bead of sweat rolling off his face. He turned his head to his teammates still on their diving punishment, and looked back at Kuroo. They just lost to another school again, but he got his punishment done rather early. “Mm? Okay..?”

He rose to his feet, following Kuroo out the gym door. The walk to a secluded place far, far away from the main gym was silent and awkward, not to mention suspicious. If Kuroo wasn’t one of his good friends, he would’ve thought he was about to be kidnapped. Or murdered.

Eventually, they stopped where the fenced pathway met the grass. Kuroo stopped ominously, further proving (Y/n’s) ‘serial killer’ theory. He turned around, facing (Y/n), and leaned on the railing.

(Y/n) stiffly held his hands behind his back. “So...” he rocked on his heels, trying to seem as casual as possible. “...what did you...need...?”

He was met with no response. Kuroo, instead, gripped the railing tighter, his knuckles turning a pale white. His eyes were downcast and he was sweating like crazy. He looked like he’d seen a ghost.

(Y/n) stepped forward and crouched down, so he could see Kuroos face behind the mop that was his hair. He rested his palms on his knees, trying to decide what to say.

“...I...think your hair looks nice...today...”

If it’s one thing he hates, it’s awkward silence. Not to mention the suspense of waiting on someone to say someone possibly life changing. I mean, why else should he drag him out miles away from the gym during training camp?

“Uh-If we don’t hurry up, we’re gonna miss our next match-“

“I need to get something off my chest.”

(Y/n’s) throat closed up. It was simple. The secluded area, Kuroo flushed face, fiddling and chipping the rust off the railing. He didn’t know how he didn’t see it before. He’s been in this situation plenty of times, with girls he can’t even remember the face of. But oh how much he’d love to be in this situation a few months ago.

————

‘Just do it. just do it. God, just do it. Worse comes to worse, he’s straight. It’s not like he’s the type of person to de-friend someone because they like them!’

(Y/n) gripped the white envelope behind his back harshly, crinkling it on the corners. It had a red, heart shaped sticker on the seal flap, with the words ‘To Tetsu’ written in dark pink across the back.

Both Karasuno and Nekoma were bidding their new friends goodbye, all scattered across the parking lot of Karasuno. (Y/n) paced around awkwardly, looking for Kuroo’s familiar mop of black, messy hair. He was nervous, to say the least. Very nervous.

“Ne, Kenma,” (Y/n) placed a sweaty palm on Kenmas handheld game, pushing it down lightly and forcing him to look up.

“Mm.”

“Have...have you seen Tetsurou? I need to give him something.”

Kenma hummed in acknowledgment, and nudged his head to the side. Sure enough, Kuroo was there, off in the distance and talking to someone he couldn’t make out. His back was facing towards them, and his hand was on his hip. (Y/n’s) heart pounded even more.

“Th..an..k...y-you...” (Y/n) gave a lopsided, very stressed out smile, and limped his way over to Kuroo. Kenmas eyes were drawn to the extremely obvious love-letter being wrinkled by (Y/n’s) sweaty hands. He pursed his lips.

He then looked up to the petite girl chatting with Kuroo. It wasn’t visible in (Y/n’s) line of sight, but it was to Kenma. He almost felt kind of bad.

(Y/n) stopped dead behind Kuroo, his eyes fixated on the ground as he ran through his memorized confession for the millionth time that day. He tapped on his shoulder, keeping the letter flush against his back with his other hand.

Kuroo turned around, and that was when his eyes landed on the brown-haired girl wearing an obviously oversized Nekoma jacket. From context of the scene, (Y/n) supposed it was Kuroo’s. He gripped the letter tighter.

The girl walked forward and extended her hand out. Her bubbly aura practically suffocated (Y/n). “Hi! You must be ‘(Y/n)’. Tetsu was just talking about you! You two are like—buddy buddies right?”

‘Tetsu.’ That was (Y/n’s) nickname for him. Only he got to call him ‘Tetsu’...and who gave her the right to call him by his first name?

(Y/n) glanced at Kuroo. Kuroo shoved his hands into his pocket and grinned. It wasn’t his usual shit-eater smirk, rather a genuine, lovesick dopey smile. A smile (Y/n’s) never seen before, not directed at him at least. It was a sight he wanted to burn into his mind, but at the same time, he wanted to slap that smile right off his face.

“(Y/n), this is Yumi-chan. She’s our new manager.”

Kuroo stepped behind Yumimite, and draped his arms around her dainty shoulders.

“She’s also my new girlfriend~”

“Oh-hush it, you!” Yumimite turned around and berated Kuroo with small punches, earning a playful chuckled from the Kuroo. (Y/n’s) grip on the wrinkled letter loosened.

“...ahaha! Congrats..! When...when did you two get together?” If (Y/n) was good at anything, he was good at pretending to be interested in something. Maybe he should’ve joined the drama club instead of the volleyball club.

“Mm. We got together just last week. She gave me a love letter.” Kuroo patted the girl on her head, ruffling her neat brown hair and making her blush red. It looked like it felt nice. He wondered how it would feel to have Kuroo’s undivided attention, to be pat on the head like a blushing schoolgirl. To be a small, pretty girl next to Kuroo, to have the ability to call him ‘his’. All his nervousness simmered away, replaced by a strange ache of numb.

“Well, that’s awesome dude! Honestly, I don’t know how you managed to snag a girlfriend before me...” (Y/n) slouched dramatically, quickly hooking the letter in the waistband of his volleyball shorts and tugging his shirt over it. “Especially such a cutie like her! I’m (L/n), by the way...”

Kuroo chuckled, slinging an arm around Yumimite. “Don’t go flirting with my girl now. You have plenty of girls practically throwing their panties at you.”

‘Yeah...but I’m gay, Tetsurou. For you no doubt! I-I love you-!’

(Y/n) almost wanted to yell that out. And he almost did. But he chose instead to keep silent and laugh in response.

(Y/n) bowed slightly. “Anyway, it was nice meeting you. I just wanted to say hi to Tets-uh, Kuroo...”

Kuroo tilted his head at the use of his last name, but brushed it off when Yumi hooked her arm in his. The couple bid their goodbyes, as they turned around and walked off. (Y/n) followed suite, turning around robotically and marching off.

Once he was a good enough distance away, he stopped behind a trash can and fished the letter out from his sweaty back.

He watched as the big pink words ‘To Tetsu’ bled and distort with every falling teardrop rolling down his cheeks. The water expanded and smudged the ink lighter and lighter until the words were practically indecipherable. You couldn’t tell it was a love letter anymore. Especially because (Y/n) ripped and trashed it up til it was a pile of pink and white paper shreds.

He tossed the stray flakes of soggy paper into the trash bin, watching as it fluttered and twirled tauntingly down the trash can. He quietly scrubbed at his red hot face, probably soaking his shirt with his salty tears. He rested his hands on the edges of the bin.

“Okay...” (Y/n) stretched up, spitting onto the concrete. “I...wonder...if my favorite ramen place is open...”

Strangely he didn’t feel devastated, or heartbroken at all. He just felt sort of numb. He didn’t feel the need to blast heartbreak music and cry out on his bed for hours on end. In fact, he was glad. Albeit a bit raw, and maybe a bit tired, but glad.

He got closure for the confusing feelings bubbling down his throat ever since he’d met Kuroo Tetsurou. He got his answer, and even if it wasn’t the preferred one, it was something.

The recovery process was easier than most people would think. It only took a couple long days to get him back to his prime condition. It was a given, since (Y/n) had so much other things to be worrying about. Midterms, volleyball practice, his friends. It’s a given that he would move on the things that was no longer on his priority list.

And Kuroo Tetsurou was no exception.

——

It was kind of pathetic to see such a high strung man like Kuroo so shaky and nervous. Though, he felt the same way three months ago, spending the whole golden week perfecting a letter he never got to read. What a hypocrite he was.

(Y/n) cleared his throat. “So...what did you wanna say?”

“I-just,” Kuroo swallowed thickly. “Ah-I...give me a second...”

“Okay, take you time, Kuroo~” he stood back up to his full height, and leaned on the rail across from him. It was obvious they weren’t gonna get anywhere. “So...hows ‘Yumi-chan’ doing?”

“Ah. We broke up. She’s gay. She has a girlfriend now.”

“Aw, I’m sorry. Though, good for her for snagging a girlfriend. No offense.” Kuroo mumbled out a ‘none taken.’ (Y/n) continued.

“Was that what you wanted to talk about? Her breaking up with you?”

“No! Actually, I broke up with her first. And it was...it was kinda mutual.” Kuroo sharply inhaled. “But it does have something to do with what I need to tell you.”

How could he be more obvious. (Y/n) forced a smile. It felt mandatory now. “Really? That’s interesting. Do tell.”

‘Please...Please don’t say it.’

“I broke up with her...because I had these...feelings.”

‘Please don’t say it. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to see it. I don’t want to read it. I don’t want to know it.’

“And you know how she’s gay? Well, I think I am too.”

‘No shit Sherlock. I don’t wanna hear it. You’ve been fiddling around with your hands like a schoolgirl. Stop it, so we can just be friends like we used to be. Don’t make it awkward. Don’t make me hear it. Please.’

“And...well...”

‘Don’t make me look at your crestfallen face when I say no. It’s too much for even me to handle. I don’t want to see that.’

(Y/n) knitted his eyes shut. A fierce shudder threatened to rattle him and cover Kuroo’s mouth, but he kept still, as difficult as it was. He braced for impact.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

There it was.

(Y/n) pursed his lips and let his smile finally drop. Kuroo looked up from his trained gaze on the ground, only to be met with (Y/n’s) pitiful expression. (Y/n) never saw his face go from hopeful and love struck to devastated and heartbroken so fast.

(Y/n) cleared his throat. He was going to lay him down gently if it was the last thing he did. “...uh.”

He never said it’d be easy, though.

“If it makes you feel better...I did like you once, Tetsurou.” He only used his full first name during important situations, as he switched to using his last name instead of his first a long time ago. A lump grew in Kuroo’s throat.

Kuroo jabbed at his chest exasperatedly. “T-then what’s the problem?! We both-“

“The problem is I don’t love you. Not anymore.” Kuroo fell silent. He was so prepared to do anything it took to win over (Y/n), but after standing in front of him now, it was clear. Watching as he looked down at him with a pitying expression that made his brain go numb. He would get no where if he tried.

“...a-anymore? You liked me before? When!? Why didn’t I know?!” Kuroo grasped fistfuls of his black hair, a cold sweat condensing on his forehead. He was so animatedly desperate it was kind of sad.

“Not too long ago. Though, you kept me waiting since forever. And I thought I could wait forever.” A sorry chuckle emitted from (Y/n’s) lips. “I watched you go though girlfriend after girlfriend, Tetsurou. You even introduced me to Yumimite when I was going to confess to you. How do you think that felt? Even I got tired of waiting.”

“You...you were...” Kuroo had never felt so helpless. (Y/n) shrugged.

“I would give you the love letter I wrote for you that day, but it’s in a trash can somewhere. Ripped to shreds. And I don’t remember the words I wrote. I’m sorry, Tetsurou.” (Y/n) sighed and patted Kuroo on the head.

“You missed your chance...”

Kuroo’s eyes stung, threatening to unleash hell, but he promised himself he wouldn’t cry. No matter what. Instead, he rubbed the back of his neck and stood back up.

“I never stood a chance, did i?” Kuroo chuckled. It was a sad chuckle, one that made (Y/n) want to cry aswell.

“That’s the sad part.” (Y/n) pressed his lips into a fine line, turning it into a smile conotated with pity.

“You did once.”

——————

Go sit there and stare at the wall in silence as you feel bad for Kuroo getting rejected by you. Go on, stare. Maybe then I’ll consider a part 2 (and if people comment or reblog asking for a part 2, hee hee.)

[dizzydancingdreamer]

You're My Home Too | Loki Laufeyson

Hey lovelies happy Saturday! I hope you all have had a lovely day! Here is the first Loki "drabble" of the event, please do enjoy and make sure to take care of yourselves today!

Appetizers (Tags): Angst, Fluff

Entres (Pairing): Loki x F!Reader (third person)

Sides (Prompts): 6: “You’re all I have.” “You’re all I have too, you know?”

Notes: None, Requested by Anon

Word Count: 2.2k

Dinner at Dizzy’s Master List

She watches as the black haired god tilts his head, eyes locked on his brother. It looks like he’s nodding along, agreeing to something Thor has said, but she can see it— the way his pupils dart across the blonde’s face, flitting over his shoulder before returning, latching on a different spot. It’s unnerving to watch him be so docile. So passive— not at all like the usual, fiery tempered, grinning god of mischief. She’s never seen him look so blank. Something’s definitely wrong.

She has a feeling she knows what it is, too. If she’s right then it’s the same reason she laid awake all night, curled on her side of Loki’s bed, listening to the sound of his steady breathing until the sun came up. She can practically hear the conversation— Thor’s been itching to go home for weeks now. Somehow they’ve always managed to get held up each time— saving the world and what not. Now, though, there’s nothing keeping them. No androids or aliens or wizards. Just her— the best friend— and that’s not going to cut it.

Loki’s eyes flick to hers, blue irises somehow vibrant even from across the room, and she forces the corners of her lips to turn up, an attempt at flaking off the frown that she’s sure has been plastered on her face all morning. If his frown is anything to go by, however, then she would say that it doesn’t work out. Oh well— she didn’t really expect it would.

He can sense lies and even if he couldn’t he would still be able to read her like a book. Half the time it feels like he’s more in her head then she is, always figuring out what she wants before she can think it let alone say it aloud. Usually that’s followed by him dropping whatever he’s doing to get it for her. Unless, of course, it’s a hug— then he’s dropping whatever he’s doing and pulling her into his arms.

Who’s going to hug her if he’s a galaxy away?

Is it even a galaxy? Surely it’s more. A dimension away. Her stomach tosses, the sting in her chest mixing with a wave of the nausea she’s been fighting all morning. A combination of not eating— not being hungry enough to eat— and sadness. No not sadness— grief. Sadness feels easier. It’s waving your best friend off to college— not to another fucking world. This isn’t sadness— this is losing everything she has come to need for an entire year. Warmth and protection and his sea-salt skin and elegant voice. Who else is going to speak so gently to her when he’s gone?

“Dove—” she blinks and he’s suddenly there, kneeling on the floor in front of the couch where she's been sitting for the past hour, legs curled under her and all the way numb— “what’s wrong?”

His dark brows crease together, his hand snaking from his side and reaching for hers. She offers him another pathetic half-smile, tangling her fingers with his long ones and shaking her head slightly. “Nothing, Loki. How’d your talk go?”

She doesn’t miss the way he winces. He tries to hide it, replicating her tilted lips with his own, but, like her, his eyes don’t follow suit. Instead they flash with something that looks too much like dread for her to keep her act up. When her mouth creases into a frown, so does his. It’s all she needs to know— he really is leaving her.

“My brother misses home.” The god reaches out his other hand and— like everything they seem to do— she copies him, meeting him halfway and lacing those fingers together as well. He runs his thumb over hers, his blue eyes intense— worried. “There are a few things we have to sort out. They’re getting impatient.”

They’re. That could mean so many things. It could mean his people— the asgardians. It could mean his family— it definitely means Thor, the god who she can hear pacing from the kitchen. Her eyes pool over the features of the man in front of her, landing on the circles under his eyes. Does it mean him too? Has she been keeping him from going home? The thought makes her throat sting— of course she has. She’s been so stupid, clinging to a literal god. Of course he would have to go home at some point. She was only fooling herself thinking he would stay with her. What’s upstate New York when you have a celestial castle or whatever the hell it is he has?

“Dove?”

She blinks again, zoning back into his even more concerned stare— shit.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, squeezing his hands if only to ground herself against slipping away again. “That sounds important. Your, uh, your kingdom needs you.”

I need you too, though.

It feels like her heart is lodged in her throat and that she’s speaking around it. When she swallows it doesn’t go away— if anything it grows, tears stinging at her eyes, threatening to fall. She hates how selfish she feels. He doesn’t belong to her— he doesn’t belong with her— and she should feel lucky to have called him her friend for this long. Still she can’t help but wonder what her days will look like without him. Empty. Boring. Terrifying. She has friends here but it isn’t the same. The connection isn’t the same— the warmth and smiles and laughter aren’t the same.

She isn’t just losing her best friend, she’s losing her home.

And she breaks.

And he notices.

God, he always notices.

She supposes with the tears now streaming down her face, though, that she can’t exactly blame him for that one. It’s a little noticeable. What she will blame him for is how he releases her hands, instead rising to his full height and settling on the couch, angling his lithe body towards her and wrapping his arms around her stomach. He waits— one beat, two beats— for her to turn as well, pushing up on her knees and throwing her arms around his shoulders. She holds him tight— tighter than she can confidently say she has ever held him before. She has to— it’ll very likely be the last chance she gets. She has to memorize it— him.

“I’m sorry,” she laughs bitterly. It’s more of a sob— the kind that catches in her throat, getting stuck between silent and booming. “I’m being silly.”

Loki shakes his head— she can’t see it but she can feel his jaw brushing her hair, his hands pushing her closer to his chest. She digs her fingers into his jumper, scrunching the green wool like somehow it’ll make this all okay. His hand runs up her back, curling it around the nape of her neck, hand cool and soft.

“No you aren’t.” He murmurs, face still pressed against her hair, and she fights back more tears— he’s too gentle with her.

She doesn’t say anything right away, she just sinks against him, biting her lip and forcing herself to just be in the moment. He smells like rain today. It’s always different— always changing— but today he smells like the summer pavement before a three day thunderstorm hits and it feels fitting.

After a few moments she finally pulls away, tugging against his hold and running the heel of her hand under her eyes. He doesn’t give her much leave, only a few inches to be able to look up at him, blinking away the blurriness of her glassy eyes and sniffling. His lips are pressed together, his head tilted again. Unlike with his brother, though, his eyes never stray from hers. As always, it makes her breath catch in her throat, her heart racing in the way only he can seem to do.

She finally brings herself to ask the hard question— the one that’s been hanging around them for weeks. “When are you leaving?”

His fingers on her spine tense— that can’t mean anything good.

“Today, dove.”

“Oh.”

She doesn’t know what else to say— that and if she says anything more she’s afraid she might start sobbing again. Sobbing or just stop breathing altogether. Today? She couldn’t have had one more night with him? You’ve already had ‘one more night’ for four weeks, the little voice in her head reminds her. It’s time to let him go. She slips her hands around his arms— easier said than done. She knows that once he leaves her life will change— and it might never go back to normal.

Loki’s eyes flash, the blue darkening, a crease forming between his brows. He opens his mouth but no words come out and soon he’s pressing his lips together again, the dejection in his eyes and aura tangible. She has to say something— she can’t leave it on this note. She just has no idea what to say. No idea how to say goodbye.

So she doesn’t.

“You should probably start packing then, yeah?” She pushes her lips into the tortured smile again, muttering the words.

She’s sure he would have forced himself to laugh—

“I want you to come with me.”

— were it not for him speaking at the same time.

Her heart stops when his words flit past her eardrums. “What?”

She must be dreaming— there’s no way he just said what she thinks he said. It has to be her imagination playing a cruel trick on her. Trying to protect her from the pain until the last second. But no, that’s not right, now when his cool hands move from her back to her cheeks, his thumbs running over her cheekbones and drawing her back to him. He leans down, pressing his forehead against hers and she gasps— she can’t help it. His skin is so soft that her eyes flutter close.

“I said I want you to come home with me, dove.” His nose brushes against hers, his words entirely soft.

She’s speechless— completely and utterly floored. “To Asgard?”

He chuckles, minty breath fanning her lips. “Yes, to Asgard.”

She pulls back, head so fuzzy she almost topples over from the motion, hands curling tighter to keep from falling. He really wants her to go home with him? Just like that her heart starts beating again, kicking starting her pulse which begins hammering as the notion of staying with him starts to become clear. He’s not leaving?

“But—” she stammers, blinking rapidly as she tries to form a coherent thought— “why me?”

For a moment he just looks at her, his brows knitting together once more, his eyes filling with something she can’t decipher. He kind of looks confused. Only she could confuse a god. She almost slaps herself, her pulse thrumming in her ears. Why the heck would you ask him that you idiot? Now he’s not gonna’ want to take you with—

“Because you’re all I have.”

He says it so nonchalantly— like it’s a fact and not a confession that makes her very essence roar. She supposes that to him it is just a fact. That when you’re all powerful speaking your mind is normal. It is just a fact and she is just a girl and he is just a god. Fact, fact, facts. Her head spins. This— he— cannot be real.

“I—” That’s as far as she gets before her sentence drops, mouth gaping but empty.

Thankfully he picks it up, continuing his unconcerned profession.

“It’s not home if you’re not with me, my little midgardian. Not anymore.” He shrugs and she almost chokes— how is he saying this so calmly when she feels like she’s going to combust? “I really think you’d like it, actually. It’s very pretty— lots of gardens. Oh, and the library! You would enjoy the library.” He tilts his head, his eyes fading out slightly as he thinks about his home. “I’m sure there will be a ball of some sort when we arrive home. I know, I know— you don’t like big events but—”

This time she’s the one who places her hands on his cheeks, shaking her head, letting the first euphoric giggle out. “Of course I’ll go, Loki.”

A grin spreads across his lips, his eyes widening like he just won the lottery as he leans forward, connecting them once again. It makes her heart jump in her chest. What did he think she was going to say? No? She giggles when his lips press against her cheek, her nose scrunching. He must notice because his mouth curves even more against her skin. Soon his lips aren’t just on her cheek but on her forehead and chin and nose as well.

“Even if we have to go to a ball?” He teases, his voice lighter than she’s heard it in weeks.

“Even then.” She confirms, fingers gliding into his hair and tangling them in the silky strands. She takes a deep breath, nerves thrumming as she adds softly. “You’re all I have too, you know? You’re my home too.”

Loki hums happily against her skin, taking her own confession the same way he had made his own— easily. It’s the best outcome she could have hoped for. She can’t wipe the wide smile from her lips as he wraps his arms properly around her once more. It’s not long before his lips find her ear, soft words echoing against her skin.

“You should probably start packing then, yeah?”

[pies-writes-and-more]

a broken heart

Word Count: 2,543

Warnings: sad bean vibes today guys, sorry! Breakup angst and jealousy.

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x Fem!Reader, Bokuto Kōtarō x Fem!Reader

A/N: I have no clue what got into me but we’re writing some sad shit tonight apparently. For all my broken-hearted beans out there, I promise I’ll write some fluff sooner or later! <3 Thank you to @thisnoodlewritesao3 for reading some of this for me and giving me the motivation to keep writing - sorry you’ll probably wake up to these feels (please don’t read if you’re not in a good head space, yall!)

Song inspo: When I Was Your Man by Bruno Mars (thank you @haikyuutothetop and @tobi-momo for bringing it up cause I totally forgot to add it 😂)

Haikyuu Masterlist

It was like life was stabbing him every few seconds, reminding him that you were no longer there.

Tsukishima woke up thinking that maybe everything would be okay today, pulled his headphones on while he got ready because he was refusing to be alone with his thoughts. But when his music shuffled, why did the first song to play have to be the song you had deemed your song? Why could he remember the melody so perfectly sung in your voice? The way you looked whenever the song came on on the radio.

He remembered how happy you looked that very first day, how you had dressed yourself up just to hang out with him, and how this song was playing in a playlist he had made you and was the one in the background when he had kissed you for the first time.

The melody made Tsukishima’s lips tingle. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you right now.

Yamaguchi’s half smiles didn’t help either. When he joined Tsukishima on his way to school, he just patted Tsukishima on the back like he normally did and danced around the question, “How are you?”

It’s not like Tsukishima would be honest. He’d just shrug and say, “Fine,” and hope Yamaguchi would fill the silence with some story or something dumb.

He knew Yamaguchi was still friends with you, that the two of you talked. He’d never ask for him to stop because if anything, Tsukishima could find out how you were doing without even asking.

“She’s okay,” Yamaguchi told him with a small smile, as if that was supposed to be comforting. Did he think that’s what Tsukishima wanted to hear? That you were doing okay? That you weren’t waking up in tears every night like he was? Part of him wanted to be happy that you were okay, because he always secretly knew you’d be better off without him. But he wanted to be angry at you, he wanted to blame you for the fact that he cried more in the last few weeks than he had ever before in his life.

Tsukishima just kept his eyes forward, like he didn’t even hear his best friend but Yamaguchi had seen the flicker of sadness in him. He had learned a few weeks into the breakup not to mention your name around Tsukishima, but not because the quiet boy asked him to. It was because every time he heard your name, Yamaguchi would watch as his shoulders tensed, how his fists would clench in annoyance. He missed you, but who would ever catch Tsukishima Kei admitting that?

Yamaguchi would never tell him, but he always wondered that maybe if Tsukishima had admitted his feelings more to you, maybe you’d still be here.

Tsukishima would never say it out loud, but he was already thinking the same thing.

It hadn’t taken long for it to feel like the whole world knew about your breakup. People whispered in the hallways, more than they usually did when Tsukishima’s cold aura came by. Your name fluttered into his ears through gossipy voices and the blond boy just wanted to tell everyone to shut up.

Why did your name have to follow him around? Why did people have to look at him like he had done something so wrong? It’s not like he had broken up with you.

“I just can’t do this anymore, Tsukishima, I’m sorry,” you had whispered to him, shifting uncomfortably in your stance. “It just feels like you don’t even want me around most of the time and I feel like I’m constantly bugging you.”

“I never said you were bugging me, did I?” he huffed. Looking back, Tsukishima wished he could’ve bit down on his tongue and cut the sass in half. You had winced at his bitter tone. It was the look on your face that made him realize you weren’t just being insecure or awkward again. You were genuinely trying to leave.

“I want to be with someone who actually wants me around… and I don’t think that’s how we are…” the words left your lips so easily but Tsukishima knew what you meant. You meant that’s not how he was.

“You’re the one who’s leaving,” Tsukishima spat out angrily, glaring at you as you picked up your things slowly, tears in your eyes. Why wouldn’t you look at him? Why wouldn’t you look him in the eyes and tell him why you were leaving?

But when you finally met his gaze, you were already at the door, glancing back at him with sorrowful eyes. Why did you look like you were mourning something? Had it really been that bad? Being with him? “You’re the one not stopping me,” you had said in a voice barely louder than a whisper. You waited there for a moment, as if proving your point to him as Tsukishima just stood there with his fists clenched.

He wanted to lurch forward and hold you to him, beg you to stay even though he wasn’t sure what words could possibly describe how he was feeling. He didn’t know how to explain why he was always so angry or emotionless with you. He didn’t hate you - how was he supposed to say that? He didn’t want you to go but you were already leaving. How pathetic of him would he be if he begged you to stay? What was the point of begging if you were already choosing to go?

The memory was still fresh in Tsukishima’s mind. He couldn’t help but think about it every moment of the day, even still. Some part of him had hoped you would come back - would show up at his house with tears in your eyes and beg him to show some sort of emotions so you could stay. He would if you had come. But he knew that you probably expected him to do the same.

But even if he did, would you accept it? Would you accept his apology? Or was he considered a lost cause?

Tsukishima’s ears perked up, hearing a familiar melodious laughter as he walked through campus for lunch. His eyes searched around and saw you with your friends, giggles erupting from your lips. He wondered how you were still able to laugh with your friends, how your smile still managed to brighten up the courtyard during your lunch. How were you so happy? How come you had never smiled like that with him?

Before he could stop himself, Tsukishima felt himself walking towards you. He needed to see you up close - needed to make sure that smile was genuine because it couldn’t possibly be right? How were you so okay when he was so not?

“Tsukki!” Yamaguchi’s hand grabbed Tsukishima’s arm before he could cause a scene, pulling him back from his zoned in thoughts. “You’re not gonna want to do that,” Yamaguchi insisted, meeting Tsukishima’s glare head on. “Trust me okay?”

Tsukishima watched him for a moment, his lips pursing into a thin line, “How am I supposed to apologize and get her back if I don’t see her?”

Yamaguchi’s gaze faltered this time and that’s when Tsukishima knew something was going on. Yamaguchi knew something. Something he wasn’t telling his best friend.

“What is it?” Tsukishima asked quietly, pulling his arm from Yamaguchi’s grip.

Yamaguchi started to say something but the most annoying voice you could ever hear was louder.

“Y/N! My angel! I did it! I ran all the way here just like I promised!”

Tsukishima’s eyes widened just slightly as he watched as Bokuto Kōtarō seemed to run over to Tsukishima’s girlfriend no, ex girlfriend.

“He didn’t, he’s just exaggerating,” Akaashi’s voice came next, trailing behind Bokuto with a look on his face that clearly stated he didn’t want to be here.

You were laughing awkwardly, a look in your eyes telling Tsukishima you really hadn’t expected them. So why were they here in the middle of a school day?

Tsukishima scoffed a bit, wanting to turn back and run away, bury his nose into his studies and pretend like it was fine. But it wasn’t fine. Because Bokuto wrapped you up in his arms and whirled you around in a hug that showed everyone nearby exactly how he felt about you.

“B-Boktuo, put me down!” You insisted through giggles, desperately trying to avoid everyone from staring at you but it was far too late.

“I’m just excited to see you,” Bokuto grinned, nodding towards his best friend. “Akaashi is too!”

Akaashi just gave a nod and continued his conversation with one of your friends, as Bokuto patted your head lovingly, “I told you I’d come see you today, didn’t I?”

“You weren’t supposed to skip school for it, you idiot!” You laughed, shaking your head.

“I’ll go back, promise! I just wanted to see you,” Bokuto grinned.

The smile on your face was wider than before and yet Tsukishima still didn’t understand why. How were you still smiling? How were you standing there with everyone assuming that you were dating Bokuto and not dismissing all the quiet rumours that were starting?

Tsukishima finally found it in himself to walk away, Yamaguchi calling after him and following his footsteps. You had left him and replaced him with a top ace. Of course you had. It didn’t matter how much Tsukishima practiced or didn’t practice. He was never going to be better than him, and he was never going to get you back either.

Over the next few weeks, Tsukishima would hear about everything that Bokuto was and did. He saw posts on your Instagram, which he still glanced at every now and then, and even stole Yamaguchi’s phone sometimes to see your Snapchat stories.

You had everything you ever wanted now from the looks of it. Bokuto would come see you every weekend, even if it meant coming right after volleyball practice. He’d crash on your living room couch or on your floor and according to your Twitter, your mom loved him already.

He brought you flowers one time, completely out of the blue, and there it was on your Instagram. Bokuto with a huge smile on his face and holding them out to you. Tsukishima could just imagine the glow in your skin as you accepted them, that shy smile that you had given to him, what felt like a million years ago.

Yamaguchi watched as his friend tortured himself with your social media, glancing at it with eyes said that he didn’t care, but his bad mood was just getting worse every day. Everyone on the volleyball team knew it too, and even the somewhat-empty-headed players like Hinata and Noya didn’t say anything.

“They’re not dating you know,” Yamaguchi spoke up after a while as the two of them walked home. Tsukishima shoved his phone back in his pocket, as if Yamaguchi hadn’t just caught him glancing at his text message history with you to see if you had randomly messaged him. “I think Bokuto just really likes her but she told me she’s not ready.”

Tsukishima wanted to tell him he didn’t care, but those words just twisted in his mouth and he couldn’t even make a sound. He did care. How could he not? He had loved you, even if he was absolute shit at showing you.

“He’ll be good for her,” was all Tsukishima said after a moment, staring out to the distance and trying not to note the surprise on Yamaguchi’s face. He wanted to mean it. He wanted to be happy for you because your smile was all that mattered to him. But... he couldn’t stop from thinking... from wishing... that your smile was at him instead.

As if the gods themselves had decided to torture Tsukishima some more that day, as the two friends turned into Coach’s shop to grab some snacks, there he was standing right in front of them.

Bokuto Kōtarō with his idiotic smile and a handful of snacks and ramen packets that he was plopping onto the counter in front of Coach Ukai, “Just these please!”

Ukai glanced uncomfortably at Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, clearing his throat as he started to check Bokuto’s items out.

Tsukishima’s ears were going pink - of course even the Coach knew. He wanted to leave right then and there, pretend like he hadn’t even come here in the first place.

But before he could turn on his heels, Bokuto caught his eye. The two of them shared an awkward look, Yamaguchi trying to walk towards the back of the store so that Tsukishima could follow him.

“Look man-” Bokuto started stiffly, his chest puffing out just slightly as he tried to come up with the words.

“It’s the wrong kind,” Tsukishima interrupted, a cold glare shooting right into Bokuto’s eyes.

“Sorry?”

“The ramen.” Tsukishima walked over to the nearby stand and pulled out two different flavours, dropping them onto the counter. “Y/N doesn’t like that one. You grabbed the wrong one.”

He should’ve just walked away then and there, avoided any more confrontational conversations but he didn’t. The two of them just stared at each other, Bokuto looking back and forth between Tsukishima and the packets of ramen.

“Boys,” Ukai’s voice was low, as if warning them not to start a scuffle in his shop.

After a moment, Bokuto just gave Tsukishima a smile, patting him on the shoulder, “Thanks.”

Tsukishima still stood there, even as Bokuto paid for his items (minus the ramen packets that you didn’t like) and as Ukai handed him his bag. The Fukurōdani boy gave a small wave to Ukai and started to head out, the tension just starting to lift.

“She likes flowers,” Tsukishima’s voice cut through the air like a knife, words thudding into existence. “She says it makes her feel like someone is thinking of her without an occasion. And she likes to have her hand held in crowds because sometimes she gets nervous around so many people. She’s not going to text you a lot at first because she’s going to think she’s clingy… and that’s my fault. I made her think she was clingy. But she’s not. She just wants to know that you’re thinking of her and that you’re honest with her.” Tsukishima’s fists were clenched so tightly, his nails were starting to sting into his palms, “And she likes to go dancing. It doesn’t really matter where but she likes to dance to music.”

You could’ve heard a fly buzzing around, or a pin dropping against the floor with how quiet it got. Bokuto’s back was still to Tsukishima, tensing slightly the more that he talked but never fully turning around.

“Slow dance with her okay? Because… I never did with her and she always wanted me to. Do everything I didn’t do with her, alright?” Tsukishima’s voice was louder now, as if desperately pleading with Bokuto.

There was another pause in the air and Bokuto only turned his head slightly to just say, “You got it,” before disappearing.

Tsukishima didn’t realize it until after he had gone that there were tears in his eyes. He thought about every time he saw flowers and thought about giving them to you and how stupid he had thought the idea was. He remembered every moment that he didn’t respond back to you right away when he had the chance to, or when he asked you why you sent him so many things on social media. The picture of that sadness growing in your eyes would haunt him for a while.

Worst of all, was all those times you two had sat in the middle of a field, just listening to music and humming to yourselves. How often you had looked around to find no one around and begged him to come dance with you. He had thought it was stupid. How childish, he had thought.

But right now, he’d give anything to slow dance with you.

Guess it’s true, Tsukishima thought to himself as he rushed home, ignoring Yamaguchi calling for him. He wiped his face aggressively, not even caring how crooked his glasses were getting as more tears streamed down his face. You never really realize what you have until you lose it.

haikyuu taglist (let me know if you’d like to join :))

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[redrobin-detective]

To light a candle is to cast a shadow

Dannymay Day 9: Candlelight

________________________

TW: Major Character Death

Danny had never been to a funeral before. Never in a million years would he have imagined this one would be his first. He was surrounded by his classmates and teachers and friends. His parents were sniffling quietly off to the while Jazz was a little more open with her grief. He felt so much, like he was a balloon ready to burst that he’d circled back to numbness. All he could do was stare at the gentle flickers of the candles people were holding. And like a candle, Danny was acutely aware of how quickly a life could be snuffed out.

“Danny, pay attention, it’s rude to space out at a place like this,” Tucker whispered in his ear. Danny squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of his best friend’s voice.

“Sorry, I,” he whispered back, “this is harder than I thought it’d be.” Sam looked over her shoulder at them. She looked worse than he’d ever her, greasy hair pulled back in a low tail, eyes sallow and not a trace of gothic makeup. It would have smudged with the tears anyway. She was wearing black as always but this time out of grim necessity. If it was hard for him he can only imagine how she was feeling right now. 

“Poor Sam,” Tucker huffed. “We should go stand by her, let her know she’s not alone.”

“Yeah just, let’s give it a minute,” Danny said quietly back. “This has been a lot, how are you feeling, Tuck?” 

“Oh you know,” Tucker chuckled, moving around to Danny’s other side. “Larger than life.” Danny bit his lip and looked down at the candle held in his shaking hands. He could see ice creeping up the sides, it would go out entirely if he didn’t keep it under control. He’d already let one light go out due to his negligence. 

“Not now,” was all Danny could say. He kept his eyes low so he didn’t have to confront his friend’s green skin and glowing red eyes. 

“Oh so only the half ghost can make dead jokes?” Tucker said with an audible eyeroll. He floated back around to Danny’s front but he could still see through the ghost to Mr. Lancer giving a weeping statement. “Come on, lighten up. It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to.”

“Tuck please,” Danny pleaded, a sad keening sound that sounded pathetic to his ears. He saw Star turn to look at him and offer a sad, sympathetic smile before turning back to the speech. “Please, just, can this wait until after the vigil?”

“You don’t have to be sad, dude, it’s not like I’m really gone,” Tucker chuckled. “It doesn’t even hurt. I mean it did, alot, for a second there but then it was over with. Easy. Just think of it as Team Phantom upgraded one of its members!”

“It’s not the same,” Danny frowned, “it’s not, things aren’t going to be the same.”

“And why not?” Tuck said with an eerie edge to his voice. “Danny is the same as Phantom, why can’t it be the same for me?” He grinned and his teeth had sharp edges. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous of me again? Afraid I’ll have better, cooler powers as a full ghost?”

“Tuck, you’re dead,” Danny stressed quietly, almost choking on the words he never wanted to say. “You were so brave and so stupid and tried to hack into the school’s PA system while Technus was inside and it... electrocuted you to death.”

“Haha yeah, we really are bros in everything, we even died the same way.” Tucker laughed, watching as Sam was discreetly wiping at her eyes. “Whatever happened to Techy? Things got kinda fuzzy there for a while.”

“Technus is gone,” Danny deadpanned. “When I found you, when I smelled that mix of ozone and cooked flesh I sort of lost it.” He’ll never get that god awful smell out of his mind. He remembered it from his own accident and smelling it again, paired with his best friend’s corpse and Technus’s idiotic ranting in his head. The next thing he remembered was Sam screaming over Tucker’s body and his hands covered in ectoplasm. Technus’ ectosignature had been entirely obliterated. 

“Oh hardcore, shoulda done the scary eyes when you said it. It would’ve had more of an impact.” Tucker turned to him with his beaming red eyes, so close yet slightly off from his normal looks. “Hey that means there’s an opening for a technology ghost around these parts. I gotta think of a name, someway to combine Tech and Tuck. I’ll think of it, I mean I have the rest of eternity.”

“Are you sure you want to stay?” Danny asked seriously, finally looking his dead friend in the eye. He was a new ghost, barely had an ectosignature and wouldn’t for at least another few months. Danny was the only one here who could see the ghost haunting his own candlelight vigil. A boy, a friend, gone far too soon. “You could move on, find your peace. Haunting Amity Park forever hardly sounds like a dream come true, I’ve only done it a year and I’m sick of it.”

“Peace? I’m 15, Danny. Peace was never an option.” Tucker lounged until his was floating on his back. He passed through Mikey and Kwan both of whom shivered at the contact. He playfully batted at Sam’s ponytail and she stiffened, like she was doing everything to hold back tears. Sam might not be able to see him but she knew Tuck almost as well as Danny did, knew what a prankster he was. Or at least they had known him. Now Danny doesn’t know quite who or what he’s looking at. 

“I’ll hang around with you guys until my core’s stronger then I can pick up some of the ghost butt kicking slack. Amity will have two awesome ghostly superheroes. Or at least until you get bored or old or whatever. Then it’ll just be me, Techer.” He made a face, “oh god that’s awful, forget that one.”

Danny almost smiled, despite everything because with Tuck in front of him chatting as usual, he’d almost forgotten. For a second, the smell and the charred, contracted limbs and Mr and Mrs. Foley’s wailing when they heard the news almost seemed like a far away nightmare. Then Tuck floated forward and clapped his hand around  the flame on Danny’s candle, snuffing it out.

“The wax was about to drip onto your hand, you’re welcome, dude,” Tuck preened with his sharpened teeth and glowing aura. “I already got this hero thing down pat.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Danny said wanly. Mrs. Foley got up now and was talking about what a good, considerate son she had. How she was going to miss him every day. Tucker watched her speak with a polite, distant face like she was talking about some character in a story written long ago. He was here, he remembered but there was a palpable disconnect between the Tuck of old and his ghost. Danny wondered how long it would be before his friend was gone entirely, consumed by amnesia and obsession.

“Ugh Danny,” Tuck huffed, crossing his arms petulantly. “Can you cut it out with the waterworks? I’m right here after all.” But he wasn’t, not really. What was in front of him was an echo. Tuck was here but not all of him came along for the ride. The rest, the part that Danny had cherished and relied on for most of his life, was at the morgue ready to be buried in the morning. Closed casket obviously. 

Yeah, his friend was still here but death had changed him, like it had changed Danny. And he was going to see a constant reminder of his friend’s death in his face every day until one of them decided to move on. Moments would pass and feel like normal only for him to realize that something vital had been lost. Like a candle casting a shadow, lacking all the warmth and life of the real thing. 

[gdcee]

Old Friends

Summary: Loki doesn't meet his three counterparts in the TVA's garbage dump at the end of time but someone else entirely.

Warnings: Some sexual innuendo. Troubling possessive childhood behaviour. Mention of unwanted sexual advances (not perpetrated by either of the main characters in the fic).

==============

Loki considers the words neatly painted in bright red letters on the large signpost.

NO LOKIS (except for the kid and alligator they're cool)

He squints, wondering if his earlier rough landing has jumbled some connections in the language processing bits of his brain. He shakes his head and reads again.

Nope, he evidently did not misread the bit about the alligator.

"What in the name of Buri's wrinkly left-"

Before Loki can finish uttering the obscenity, an overwhelming aura of powerful magic smothers him. He barely has a chance to retaliate before he's swept away like a pebble in a fluvial flood.

He finds himself lying on the half-withered gray-green grass, staring incredulously at the softly glowing incorporeal fetters wrapped about his chest and ankles.

There's only one person he knows with this particular type of binding magic.

But no, no it couldn't be. It couldn't possibly be-

"You have a lot of nerve," her achingly familiar voice rings out in the desolate silence. Her equally familiar face comes into view as she leans over his prone form, "Coming here."

"Sigyn," he can only manage a hoarse whisper at first, but giddy elation soon overtakes shock, and his mouth widens in a cheeky grin, "Oh, I'm certainly not doing that at present but since you've already skipped past dinner to the bonda-"

Sigyn whacks him sharply on the head with her staff. Not hard enough to cause any pain, but hard enough to startle him into silence.

"Brazen," she sighs, sounding more exasperated than offended, "Every single one of you."

"I prefer cockyyy-" Loki trails off at the unamused glare she shoots him, "-shutting up now."

"Good choice."

Sigyn shakes her head and dispels the fetters that hold him. Though familiar, in truth, Loki hasn't felt her magic so close to him in centuries. Not since they were children and he was showing her how to conjure fireworks in her hands.

He wonders briefly if her hair still smells like apple blossoms.

"Come on," she reaches for his hand and pulls him to his feet without waiting for his assent, "Time to go. You know the rules."

"I don't actually," Loki tries not to look upset when she lets go of his hand (pathetic, Norns, he is pathetic), "I don't even know where...what this place is." He frowns, considering. "Probably not Hel since you're here."

Sigyn coughs a short, sharp bark of a laugh. There's no humour in it.

"This is Hel," she says, "In all but name."

"So...I'm dead?"

Sigyn sighs again, closes her eyes and blows at the loose strand of hair hanging in her face.

"Wonderful. You're a new one then. You remember being pruned, yes?"

"Yes. Not very pleasant."

"Quite. Well, this-" she moves one arm in a fluid, graceful arc, gesturing in grandiose fashion at the depressing panorama of refuse and ruined buildings littered about the grey landscape. "-is where the TVA sends their rubbish. Everyone they prune, any physical material from a reset timeline - it ends up here."

"Everything?" Loki quirks an eyebrow, "Seems a little empty of clutter if the refuse of millions of dead timelines is being dumped here."

"Ah. Yes, that would be the work of the giant purple cloud monster of eternal, ceaseless hunger that devours all within its path."

An ominous sounding growl underlaid with the rumble of thunder sounds faintly in the distance.

Loki looks towards the distant horizon and sees a large dark, purplish smear like a fresh bruise in the grey sunless sky. Light flares and something that vaguely resembles a galaxy-class battlecruiser falls from the heavens. Immediately, the great bruised mass is upon the hulking remains.

He is uncomfortably reminded of that ridiculous nightmare he used to have about being phagocytosed by a giant amoeba (he longs for such innocent days, when his bad dreams were the result of his overactive imagination processing tedious microbiology lessons and not recollections of the various horrors he has experienced).

"That would be Alioth. The giant purple cloud monster. Don't ask me who came up with that name. Now if you'll excuse me-" Sigyn turns briskly on her heel and heads off in the direction beyond the NO LOKIS sign.

"Wha- hold on! You're just going to leave?You're leaving me to that thing??"

"Oh please, you'll have plenty of time before it gets here. Besides," she mutters, "You're a Loki. There's a thousand of you in this Norns forsaken wasteland. Trust me, if there's one thing you all do very well, it's survive."

Her words hurt more than he wants to admit. That bad memory loop with Sif had been more painful for obvious reasons, but...he knew what Sif thought of him. Even back then, those words she'd thrown at him had not surprised him.

As a child, he'd always felt special to Sigyn. She'd wanted to be his friend, his own true friend and not just Thor's friend who didn't mind having Loki along for the ride. She'd liked the same things he did. She'd always laughed at his jokes and pranks.

He'd felt like he mattered to her.

Of course that had only made him abominably possessive. He just couldn't abide any other child having her attention. The fear of an insecure wretch - so terrified that if Sigyn looked away even for a moment, she would see something better, that she would find him wanting.

He shouldn't have been surprised when Sigyn did not protest at her father sending her to live with her late mother's relatives on Alfheim when her true powers manifested on the cusp of puberty.

He'd...he'd said such awful things to her before she'd gone. When two people have been friends for centuries, they know exactly what to say to make it hurt. Sigyn had given back as good as she got, but instead of petty childish insults, her accusations had rung with truth.

She'd known why no one wanted to be her friend, she'd known exactly what he'd been doing behind her back - all the tricks, all the schemes, everything he'd done to ensure that none would take his friend from him.

As a parting shot she'd declared that even though he'd been horrid, she had stayed his friend because she had cared about him. That he had been special to her and she hadn't wanted to lose him either.

It was one thing to lose his only friend besides his brother - it was another to know that all his fears had been naught but smoke and mirrors. That he had been awful, that he'd made Sigyn sad and disappointed for absolutely nothing.

She had returned to Asgard.

Eventually.

Týr could only use the excuse of his daughter's magical education for so long. Someone of her abilities was too important an asset for the Allfather to ignore.

In the end, they had come to a reconciliation (of sorts) because they were tired of avoiding each other.

Or perhaps, the more simple truth (that neither would have admitted to) was that they missed each other.

They were never again as close as they'd been as children, but they'd stayed friends (or friendly at least). On good enough terms that the Warriors Four had not sought her out to spin their tale of treachery and magical incursion (Sigyn certainly would have been the ideal person to subdue a treacherous, power-mad and magically gifted regent). But not on good enough terms that he would have approached her for help in his ill-conceived scheme to delay Thor's coronation (perhaps events would have played out more favourably if he'd had someone to bounce ideas off).

That had been his Sigyn anyway. The one who didn't even exist now. Reset into non-existence by the TVA along with everything else on the timeline he'd been taken from.

Did you mourn, he'd asked his brother.

We all did.

He wonders if the Sigyn he'd known had mourned him.

The Sigyn briskly walking away now seems ill-inclined to mourn any Loki. What had the Loki of her timeline done to make her want to have nothing to do with him? He isn't sure if he wants to know.

He is tired. So very, very tired. Tired of feeling responsible for things he has not done (yet? is it really destiny if your life is just a series of bullet points on a checklist created and enforced by a totalitarian bureaucratic organization built by person or persons unknown?). Tired of not being able to do anything to make amends for the things that he actually is responsible for.

Except...he can.

Sigyn isn't a memory construct, she is real, she is here.

It's just one thing, one little thing and it is paltry compared to the other ill-deeds he has committed (and the ones he is fated to commit)-

But it's something at least.

Loki catches up to her easily (being roughly a head taller has its advantages) and grabs the end of her staff.

"Sigyn-"

She fixes him with those sharp, dark eyes and he realises he doesn't know how he's supposed to start this. He swallows past the lump in his throat and says the first word that comes to mind.

"Please."

Her eyes soften just a little, but her mouth remains set in a firm, hard line, and she tries to tug the staff out of his grasp.

He doesn't let go.

"Stop trying to stall me."

"I'm not-" Loki bites back the instinctive protestation and soldiers on. "I need to tell you I'm sorry about what I said before Alfheim and for everything I did before that. I'm sorry that I was selfish, I'm sorry that I didn't trust you, I'm sorry I made you cry and...I'm sorry I wasn't a worthy friend to you."

"...Loki," her voice is soft, "That happened centuries ago. I'm not...I'm not even the Sigyn you need to apologize to."

"You're still Sigyn. You deserve one regardless."

Sigyn has that look on her face. That gentle, pensive consideration tinged with something soft and tender that he can't quite name. She used to look at him like that whenever he did something nice (whether unprompted or as an apology for something not so nice he'd done earlier).

Norns. This is getting awkward. Existential fear at the potential cessation of his existence and his childhood night terrors featuring improbably large unicellular organisms notwitstanding, Loki thinks he might not mind if that giant purple cloud trundled in right now and swallowed him up.

"Well, I'd best get on, hadn't I? Surviving and all that?" He coughs, "I...I'm...it was good to see you again. Thank you for not kneeing me in the crotch mid-apology. I appreciate it."

He turns to leave. He doesn't have a clue where to go, but the opposite direction from the purple cloud monster seems like a good start.

Maybe he'll survive long enough to come across Mobius. Half of him wants to find the man as soon as possible (perhaps also be complimented on his intelligence and the betterment of his moral condition). The other half hopes that he never sees him again (because brainwashed amnesiac variant or not, Mobius has subjected him to very unpleasant situations designed to psychologically shatter him. Loki is the last person in the universe who would hold someone entirely responsible for actions undertaken after their minds have been tampered with, but still. Just because he understands doesn't mean he can forget.)

As for Sylvie...Loki doesn't want to think about it, but if the TVA is smart, they wouldn't prune her. They wouldn't risk a repeat of whatever had happened on Lamentis-1, and since he is already here...

"Catch."

The improbable sound of Sigyn's voice startles him from his ruminations and without thinking his hand shoots up to intercept the small rectangular object wrapped in plastic and foil before it hits his face.

Loki stares at the granola bar (expiry date 12/12/2075) incredulously and then at Sigyn, walking briskly at his side and keeping pace with his long strides.

"I thought you-"

"You looked hungry."

"Sigyn, I believe this is what the Midgardians call 'giving mixed signals'."

"Look," she sighs, "I've been looking for...someone very dear to me for a very long time. I can't deny I feel some resentment for everyone I meet wearing his face. My baggage isn't an excuse for my rough treatment of you. It was unfair of me, and I apologise."

He blinks, not quite sure what to make of what she's telling him. Sigyn had never been one to mince words, she either said exactly what was on her mind or nothing at all.

That she is being deliberately vague and yet throwing up strong implications with her choice of words means that she does not want to lie but believes the truth is not something that he will be happy to hear.

Well, by now he's had a lot of experience dealing with unpleasant truths. Another one added to the pile is hardly going to hurt.

Sigyn has just started drinking from a battered metal canteen when he voices his suspicions.

"It's Theoric, isn't it?"

She chokes and spits out half of her drink.

"What?!" She wheezes, "What in Ymir's hoary arse gave you that idea?!"

"Didn't you fancy him back in-" Loki grimaces, snapping his fingers as he tries to pinpoint the date in question, "That year when burgundy was all the rage. Burgundy, scandalously low necklines and uncomfortably tight trousers."

"I went on a date with him because he was handsome, he was annoying me and I was young and stupid," she sneers, "He tried to put his hand up my skirts an hour into the picnic so trust me, after that I wanted nothing to do with the louse."

Something a little too much like that old familiar selfish anger bubbles up in his chest.

"He dared," he growls, "He dared to put his hands on you. He should have had his filthy paws struck off at the wrist for the insult to your dignity."

"Eat your granola, don't crush it," Sigyn says calmly, "In any case, I resolved the situation quite easily and without bloodshed."

"Shame," Loki mutters. He takes a bite of the now somewhat crumbly Midgardian snack and wrinkles his nose at the taste. "So how did you handle that son of a bitch?"

"I rendered him impotent for a year. I would have kept it permanent but he came crawling on his hands and knees begging for my forgiveness, swearing on the souls of his ancestors never to trouble me again, vowing to gift me his firstborn as my thrall etcetera etcetera..." she shrugs, "What can I say? I'm soft."

Loki doesn't remember the last time he's laughed this hard.

[hisfavoritecherry]

right place, right time

summary: harry decides to take a trip to japan in an attempt to take his mind off of some things; that is, until one of the things finds its way back to him. 

warning: sadness, degredation, smut, all that good stuff

word count: 3.2k+

January 6, 2019; Tokyo, Japan. 

Harry would have never expected to find himself here. Well, he did at some points, but the ideas were never conclusive and he had never actually envisioned himself booking a flight, taking the plane, and arriving in the city that one of his most treasured books was based off of. The trip was obviously an irrational decision and after tour, there was no place he would’ve rather been (other than home, but even that didn’t feel like the right choice at the moment). He needed a new area, a new location, a new setting; to put it simply, a new place to miss you. 

You and Harry had broken things off just shortly before he went away for work, explaining that you just couldn’t handle him being away for that long and that maybe, just maybe, it was for the best. You were starting your new job as a journalist for the New York Times and it was a big step in your career for you, and you knew that there should be absolutely nothing that would prevent you from achieving it. Even him. 

He agreed, obviously, as he’s always respected you and your aspirations and he knew that he didn’t want to be the one thing that was holding you back. He’s encouraged you to do everything you can to do what you want to do as you’ve encouraged him to do the same, and even if it broke his heart, you deserved it more than anyone he’s ever known in his twenty-four years of life. You stayed friends and would call every now and then, updating him on gossip in the office or just things happening in your everyday life. You’d ask him about events happening around him as well and he would say the same thing every time. That it’s the same-old, that he’s okay, that he misses you. A smile would creep upon your lips as you knew you felt the same way, but nothing would change, no matter how much you both wanted it to. 

The only remaining problem was that you stayed on his mind the whole time after you had split, and regardless of how many times he tried to stray away from you, the thought of you always spilled back into his mind like ink on paper; you were his familiarity and he was yours.

He would see someone in the crowd who looked like you; there you were. He went on runs when he managed to get days away from the stage and put his playlist on shuffle, hearing the song you both claimed and danced together to in his kitchen that one time; there you were. He visited a random corner cafe and got your order just to see what all the fuss was about but ended up frowning and hating it deeply because it was too sweet; there you were. Every goddamn chance he got, there you were. 

Harry had expected things to change as he disembarked the outing, suggesting that perhaps if he had different people surrounding him, his conceptions would change as well. 

They didn’t. It worsened, in fact, and he ended up seeing you more wherever he went. Every face, every place, every name, it brought him back to you and he eventually accepted that you would never go away, or at least would go away in slivers at a time. So to take his mind off of the idea of you for the meanwhile, he used most of his days and nights to go out with friends and find new individuals to satisfy his cravings for the ghost of you. Not sex, or anything else, he simply just found new things to fill the void and help him ignore the pain he was so evidently feeling.

It’s currently February 1. The day he was dreading, his now second birthday without you next to him. Harry decided to spend today at Sarutahiko Coffee, a cozy cafe just a few blocks down from where he was staying. Partying and going out to karaoke with his friends was fun, hell, sometimes he thought about dropping everything and moving here just to be able to live this lifestyle, but it did get tiring at some points, and there is nothing else he’d rather be doing than perching up against a corner in the shop and reading his book right now.

The work of choice held tightly in his grip is The People Look Like Flowers at Last by Charles Bukowski, reading the poems flowing from the creme-colored pages and writing thoughts in a journal kept close to him about things that stood out the most. 

 “A love like that was a serious illness, an illness from which you never entirely recover.”

What a load of donkey shit, Harry thought to himself. Love was nothing but heavy unfair baggage to him now, and he no longer believed in it. Not if he didn’t get to have you.

He chuckles to himself softly at the notion, jotting it down onto the paper and crossing it out immediately after.

It’s pathetic to Harry. How he was acting this way towards your relationship with him, how looked at the situation so negatively and sourly. He loved you so much that everytime he saw you, his breath hitched and he felt as if his heart would pump out of his chest. That every step you took closer to him, it would land him closer to a casket or his deathbed.

The bell tolls and he doesn’t bother tilting his head to see if it’s a customer coming in or leaving, as it’s been occurring all day and he just doesn’t pay mind to the action anymore. He continues to let his eyes touch every word on the page but abruptly stops when he recognizes a tone of voice. 

“Hi, how are you?”

It’s not her. Can’t be. Wouldn’t be. She’s not even in Tokyo.

Nonetheless, he looks up in the most subtle form of curiosity beaming from his aura. 

There you were. Your head cocking to the side, smiling at the cashier taking your order as you speak broken Japanese in an hasty endeavor to communicate with them. You’re dressed in a flowy white dress covered in tiny pink flowers attached to green leaves, hugging your waist in all the right places and a nude bag clutched around your shoulder. Around your back and arms is the baby pink cardigan Harry gave to you for your twenty-first birthday, the one he was so strangely excited to give to you because secretly, he knew he would be able to take the material off of you once the party was over and everyone had gone home.

He’s stunned and stopped in place now, his eyes wide open as he had no clue what to do at this point.

As if the stars had aligned in place at the perfect time, you’re standing in front of him and it feels like he can’t move.

He had only ever spoken to you through calls, not getting the chance to Facetime because he never had the time to while he was away, and you look different. A good different. Your hair is a little longer than he last saw you and tinted lighter, and it’s apparent that your skin is glowing now. Not a pregnancy glow, he hopes.

He snaps out of his trance as you grab your latte off of the counter, turning to find a seat around the cafe and freezing as you both make eye contact. Your heart stops at the sight of him. Him. The person you missed so goddamn dearly and the person you’ve been yearning for since the day you broke up. The person who’s kissed you when you were nervous, who held you when you were scared. The person you’re still in love with to this day, no matter the lengthy amount of time you’ve spent apart. 

A few seconds pass and you start to make your way to the area he’s sitting alone at. You’re praying in this time that he isn’t here with someone else, but in return, he smiles at you. The kind of smile you love, when his dimple pops out and his pearly brights show through. He’s the sun.

“Harry,” you breathe softly, lips curling into a grin. The sound of his name erupting from your mouth makes your lungs skip a beat as you haven’t said it at all in what? A year now?

“Y/N,” he says in return.

“Mind if I sit?” 

He purses his lips and hastily moves all of his belongings over, making space for your arrival. 

“Be my guest.” 

Your perfume dials into his brain as you sit and he smiles at the easily recognized scent. The silence between the two of you now is deafening and to be frank, annoying. You wish you could hold him in your arms again and tell him you missed him and you love him and that this whole time, all you’ve ever wanted to do was call him and find your way back to him, but you don’t. You can’t. Not here, at least. 

“So-”

“You-” You both start speaking at once.

“Whoops, my bad. You go first,” you say softly, pressing your lips into a line which makes him laugh gently.

“I was going to say, y’ look good, Y/N.” 

Your heart stops once more and everything comes rushing back to you.

The first time he kissed you, the first time he held your hand, the first time you made love, the first time you fucked, the last time you kissed, the last time he held your hand, the last time you made love, the last time you fucked.

“Thank you,” you look down out of pure nervousness as you don’t want to mess it up. “You do too, I’ve missed you.”

A moment of stillness is shared between you two and you instantly regret saying it, God knows if he feels the same way and if he could be missing someone else who isn’t you.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, forget I said that, please.”

“No, s’ all good, was just registering into my brain that you actually said that,” he pauses, running his hands through the chestnut locks held atop his head. You never noticed but his hair has grown a large amount, almost touching his neck now. He’s wearing a light brown cardigan around a white tee shirt, sunglasses hanging off of the edge of the material. His eyes are duller and he looks more tired, worrying you, but you don’t want to fuss just yet about why that is.

“I missed you too.”

You both smile and nod together, almost as if in sync and you observe that although it’s awkward now, it’s a comforting kind of awkward and you know that he’s finally here in front of you, with a blatantly inviting heart and the softest smile to grant you access to it. 

“So what are you doing in Tokyo?” he asks, taking a sip from the mug filling to the brim with black coffee that seems like he didn’t bother touching since the moment he arrived. 

“I could ask you the same thing. But I’m here just to visit, work’s been on my ass and I just needed a way to escape. I worked my ass off everyday since my first day on the job and I never slacked. Not once. But it gets tiring, y’ know, so I was like, Japan seems like a cool option. So I used up my savings and booked a flight. Been here for a few days. Weird that we ended up at the same time, though, I guess,” you giggle delicately and it sounds like music to Harry’s ears, a melody he hasn’t heard in what feels like forever. He stays silent in response as he puzzles together in his mind how this could have happened. How you managed to come to the same cafe as him, at the same time, in the same city. Right place, right time, he suggests to himself.

“And you?”

You like that about Harry. You like that you’re able to spill your heart out to him and he would accept all of it with open arms, listening as closely as he possibly can and registering every spoken word into his brain. 

“After tour ended, I was weighing all the possible options on where I could spend the time writing the next record and getting my mind off of some other shit, an’ I guess we had the same idea of randomly choosing Japan.”

“Yeah? Where are you staying?” you ask quietly, tiny hands curling around the cup of your liquid of choice. You realize that maybe it was a bit of a reach to ask, but you’re curious and you’re almost positive he’s the same. 

“I can show you if y’ want,” Harry taps his fingers against the wooden table dividing the two of you and you nod in response, and him mentally breathing out in relief that it didn’t backfire onto him. You had no plans for the rest of today, anyways, other than exploring the city a bit more, and it wouldn’t hurt to check the place out for a few minutes or so. You both grab your belongings, heading towards the exit and smiling at the workers who do the same in return. 

You walk a mere five minutes in silence before arriving at a tall brick-built building. You assume it’s an apartment complex and he unlocks the main entrance, heading towards a set of doors that end up being an elevator. You both pile into the lifting device and he clicks the number 10.

“S’ nice,” you say softly, tugging at the hem of your dress-skirt. He nods in response and folds his arms together. 

Harry’s heart is racing faster than he can think and it feels like time is going slower than usual. It’s never normal for him to be anxious or nervous like this around you, you’re his sense of calmness and the only person he feels like he can totally know himself with.

But he can’t wait any longer. He doesn’t want to lose you again, not like this. 

Harry steps in front of you, eyes peering down and his hands tuck around the back of your neck. Your hands absentmindedly wrap around his waist, and you know what’s going to happen next but honestly, you’re so grateful for it.

“If you kiss me, will it be just like I dreamed it?”

He smiles at you once more before cocking his head to the side and stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“You’ll have to see for yourself.” You don’t let another moment pass before eagerly smashing your lips against his, him pressing you up against the elevator wall and wrapping your leg around his middle. He tastes like mint and forgotten love, the sweet tang of the person you’ve missed so fucking much. You can feel him hardening against your center as your lips move together in sync, releasing from each other’s embrace as Harry moves down to your neck and leaves soft pecks around the area. He moves up to the spot right behind your ear that he knows makes you go crazy, which makes your cunt ache for him and only him.

The elevator dings above your frames and he pulls off of you immediately, the both of you moving to the side of one another as an elderly lady enters. You look up to see Harry smirking to himself with his lips pressed into a line and you nudge his side while rolling your eyes, him chuckling in return.

It doesn’t take long before you arrive at his floor, his fingers intertwining with yours as he leads you to the exit and towards his door. He fumbles with his keys for a moment as you lean up to suck the nape of his neck fervidly, leaving marks as you go and him groaning tacitly.

“And don’t think I forgot that it’s your birthday,” you whisper against his ear, giggling and kissing against it as he’s finally able to get it unlocked. He pushes the door open to reveal a large penthouse that you don’t get a second to look around before you’ve dropped down to your knees, trembling as you unbuckle the belt around his waist. You don’t want to admit it but this is the first time you’ve both ever gotten laid since you ended things and you never would have guessed that this would’ve been with each other. Harry throws the stack of books previously held in his clutch onto the couch nearby and helps you tug down his jeans, his black briefs now in vision and erection planted directly in front of you. You stroke him through the material and leave kisses across it, making your way to the tip of it and pulling the briefs down with your teeth. He hisses at the teasing action with glistening eyes and you can’t help but smirk to yourself at the sight of it, grabbing him between your fingers and using them to move down his shaft. You’re looking up at him now and his head is thrown back, moaning at the feeling of pent-up deprivation finally being taken care of. 

You use your tongue to swirl around the tip, catching any of the precum dribbling from his cock in the swells of your mouth and he grabs a handful of your hair to guide you through it.

“Fuck, jus’ like that,” he pauses, using his strength to bob your head up and down but making sure it’s only the amount of him you’re able to take. “I’ve missed you, baby,”

Tears begin to gather at the crease of your eyelids before he releases his grip each time, and it doesn’t take long before he’s picking you up and carrying you to his bedroom. You whine in irritation and make rebuttals for him to put you down and he pats your ass, placing you down softly onto the mattress and continuing to work his way around your heart-shaped lips. He pulls up the material around your body and throws it to the other side of the room to reveal that surprisingly, you aren’t wearing any bra or panties, and his breath hitches before taking a moment to himself and placing his hands onto you once more. It’s obvious that he’s trying to be as delicate as he possibly can with you but to be honest, that is the last thing you want right now.  

“Harry,” you breathe out, cursing to yourself as he kisses tenderly down your torso. He tilts his head in reaction; you’ve always been very vocal with each other about affection and sex and how you wanna go about it so it wouldn’t hurt to be that way now too.

“Please,” you breathe out. “Be rough with me, I need you so much,” you beg, him humming as a silent notion of ‘are you sure?’ and you nod in return. Harry’s finger dips through your soaked folds, digit swirling over your sensitive nub and using his other hand to hold your hips down as they buck up against him. Propping yourself up onto your elbows to watch him work, you whine his name over and over as his mouth is now attached to your heat, him moaning from enjoyment in response as well. He pulls away and you can’t help but want to scream at him for it, eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. As much as he wants you, he wants to know that you’re just as needy and eager for his entrance. 

“What do y’ want, princess? Hm?” He taunts, pushing his thumb against your clit harder. 

“I want-” He presses harder, which makes you cry out louder.

“I want you to fuck me, Harry,” you mumble quietly and he halts his movements completely, making you squirm and wrap your fingers around his arm in a poor attempt to reattach his touch back to you. 

“What was that?” You know he heard you the first time but needs to hear you beg for him once more.

“I want you to fuck me Harry, make me c-cum, please,” you tremble and it doesn’t take another second for him to pull his weight up before wrapping his hand around his cock firmly and hooking his other onto your thigh. He doesn’t give you time to re-adjust before sinking himself into you and letting out a groan, the moan coming from your lips sounding like a symphony to his perception.

“Shit, you’re so wet, all f’ me,” he wants to let you adapt to his length again but instead, decides to start moving himself in and out of you hastily, head dropping to your neck and you use his nape to leave your traces up against. He never expected to end up here, fucking you like this in his bedroom, but that was the last thing on his mind, the first being to make you cum. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Harry,” you plea. “You feel so fucking good,” you cry out for him, sobs being jagged and covered with lust as you move your fingers into his sweat-immersed hair. His face is tinted a bright shade of pink and moisture is leaking down the sides of his face.

“Harder, please, daddy,” the accentuating whines coming from your lips almost mask the nickname you’ve bestowed upon him for the first time since you last made love, but it makes his stomach riddle with butterflies and he follows your request. Harry pushes himself into you harder each time, his fingers trailing down to your center and pinching the skin surrounding your nub. The only noises throughout his whole apartment now is a combination of your moans and the bed softly creaking against the hardwood floor. He knows that you’re close and he is as well, but he wants to make it last longer for your first time together again.

“Y/N,” he groans out, brown curls falling in front of his face. “‘m not going to last long, baby, gonna cum for me? Gonna let me fill you up like the dirty slut you are? Is that what you want?” 

You can only nod in response due to the dryness in your throat from crying out seemingly louder than you ever have and you feel yourself release and clench onto his dick, pinching your eyes shut and seeing fireworks glow against them. A moment passes and Harry loosens the grip from your thigh, stuttering and becoming more sloppy with his thrusts, but soon emptying himself into you and pounding into you one last time, sending chills throughout both of your bodies.

He waits for a while in order to recollect himself and give you a chance to as well, collapsing at your side as you feel his contents spill out of you. You know he’s about to grab something to clean you up with when he begins to move to the edge of the bed but you tug him back, nodding and pouting.

“Don’t leave, not yet,” you say, still out of breath and Harry chuckles quietly before pulling himself back and wrapping his arms around your waist, pecking up against the sweet spot near your neck once more and letting out a sigh. 

“I’m not leaving you ever again, not after what just happened.” You lean over and swat his arm, giggling and pressing your lips against his again. You’re both finally in the place that you’ve been dying to be in for the past year and you realize that maybe the time you spent apart was all worth it if it meant you got to be back here with him, in his arms, in his presence, in his bedroom, in Japan.