#i think i was actually going to throw up. i have never been this shaken over anything in a game EVER

[slime-crafters]

It's actually insane how video games Get to you because I'm playing Witcher 3 and I got to the quest where you're ridding the guy of the hym and I went through the scene and I had to put down my console and try to get rid of my nausea. Who the fuck thinks like that???? 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[froggiewrites]

HAII, I rlly love your writing style and the way you portray the characters! I was wondering if u could do an Ace x shy (ish) reader except the reader is an extrovert but completely loses all social skills when it comes to Ace and practically avoids him lol (cuz he’s so fineeee oml like how can u talk normally to a fine man like him?) I’m sorry Ik it’s a bit specific but I’ve had this scenario in mind for a while and I was wondering if u could write abt it please 😓😓

This was such a cute request, I had fun with this one 😊 I hope you enjoy it!

Tongue Tied

Pairing: Ace x Reader

SFW

Summary: You've decided you're done embarrassing yourself in front of your Commander, but your attempt to avoid him doesn't work out how you'd hoped. Warnings: Fluff, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Ace and Reader both being idiots Word Count: 1.7k

If you make a fool of yourself in front of him again, you might throw yourself off of the ship.

There’s only so many stumbles, so many stuttered words, so many awkward laughs that you can handle. Every time you speak to Ace, you somehow manage to embarrass yourself. You’re done with it. If you can’t get your act together, can’t impress and enchant him how you want to, then it’s better not to speak to him at all.

And so here you are, curled up in a corner of the kitchen, praying to any god that might listen that your Commander doesn’t come looking for a snack.

“You alright down there?” Thatch’s voice is kind, as it always is, but you can hear a bit of a laugh. You’re used to the good natured teasing of the crew, so it doesn’t get under your skin as much as it used to, but you can’t help but bristling a bit.

“I’m fine.”

He puts his hands up in surrender. “I’m sure you are. I just wanted to check. I heard there was an incident earlier–”

“God, don’t remind me.” You had been in the middle of telling a story, complete with very enthusiastic hand gestures, only for Ace to sneak up on you and get clocked straight in the face by a particularly large sweeping motion. He was fine, obviously, as a Logia type, but you had barely managed to squeak out an embarrassed apology before you had sprinted off, nearly tripping down the stairs on your way out. “I’m never going to live that down.”

“It’s not like you hurt anybody. Everyone on the ship has at least one story way more embarrassing than this, I promise you. You remember how many times Ace got thrown overboard when he first got here, don’t you?”

“I don’t think losing a fight to Pops is as embarrassing as accidentally punching a commander in the face because I got too excited.”

“Well at least your thing is cute.”

“Cute? It made me look insane!”

“It made you look clumsy. There’s plenty of clumsy people on this ship, and we love them all the same.” You don’t want to give in, want to sit in the hurt and the shame until it eats you whole, but Thatch’s words are so kind and his words are so gentle you can’t help but let your hold on it slip a bit, your shoulders relaxing just a tad. “I promise you this is going to be nothing but a funny memory someday. Probably someday soon. I’m surprised you’re so shaken by this, honestly. Haven’t you had a lot of moments like this?”

“Where I made myself look like a dumbass in front of a crowd? Yeah, I have, thanks for reminding me.” There’s no bite to your words anymore, and you can see the small shimmer of victory in his eyes as he realizes he’s gotten to you.

“But those don’t bother you. Because it isn’t about the crowd, right?”

You sigh. You had a feeling Thatch knew about your little crush, considering how poorly you’ve been hiding it, but he hadn’t said anything before now. You had hoped that no one ever would, and you could keep pretending you weren’t horribly obvious about your feelings. “So you’re going to make me talk about it now?”

“I’m not going to make you do anything, kid. I’m just giving you the chance to. In a safe space. And I promise that not a single word of what you tell me will leave this room.”

You don’t want to. You may be horribly uncomfortable and embarrassed now, but this is a familiar discomfort. A safe sort of pain, dull and easy to deal with. If you talk about it, let your soft parts show, well, who knows what will come after that? Nothing is more terrifying than the unfamiliar, whether it’s joy or disappointment or something in between. At least you know how pining feels, how it sits so snugly in your chest.

But Thatch’s smile is so warm, and his eyes are a little bit pleading, and you’ve never been good at turning away an outstretched hand. “...I just don’t know what it is about him that makes me such a mess.”

“Does he make you nervous?”

“Yes, god, so much. I’m not used to someone making me feel so…small. And jittery. I never know what to say, and even when I do the words come out wrong. It makes me feel so stupid and silly, like I’m a dumb kid again while he’s so…everything. I hate it. I hate feeling so out of control and self conscious. I hate that even seeing him makes me completely lose it, and that everyone can tell. I hate how hard it is to avoid him, because even despite all of that I still want to be around him. It sucks. So goddamn bad.”

“It can be hard to feel like you’re not in control of your emotions, that’s true. But caring about someone isn’t a bad thing, really. Especially not caring about someone like Ace. He’s a good guy.” 

“He is a good guy.” It’s part of the reason he had stolen your heart so effortlessly. He was just…kind. He cared about other people, and other people cared about him. When he passed through somewhere, he always left it a little better than he found it, whether he actively tried or not. You can’t help the small, self deprecating laugh that bubbles out of you. “He’d be a hell of a lot easier to get over if he wasn’t. But maybe he’s worth the trouble.”

“Worth making a fool of yourself?”

You smile, a small and fragile little thing. “Yeah.”

It feels good to have gotten off of your chest for a moment, and you let a little of that weight fall off your shoulders.

And then you hear the creak of the floorboards outside, and you and Thatch look up to see Ace, his hat quickly pulled down to cover his face, just barely showing the very red tips of his ears.

“Oh my god.” You can barely squeak out the words, so mortified it almost makes you nauseous.

Thatch has the nerve to laugh. “Well, this isn’t the ideal way to do this, but hey. At least it’s out there. I told you they didn’t hate you, didn’t I?”

What?

Ace’s voice is about an octave higher than you remember it. “Yeah, you mentioned that. I–um–I’m so sorry, I was just coming down to talk to Thatch, and–I really didn’t mean to eavesdrop.” He lets his hat drop a little, his eyes peeking over the brim, allowing you to see his flushed cheeks, making his freckles stand out even more over the pink.

Thatch very casually walks past Ace, shoves him into the kitchen, and walks away, calling over his shoulder to, “Have fun with that!”

He blinks at you.

You blink back.

“I–uh.” You can’t bring yourself to acknowledge what’s happening, your brain frying under the stress of trying to process the situation. “I’m sorry I punched you earlier.”

He chokes out a strained laugh. “It’s alright. I didn’t even feel it.”

Another beat of silence.

You’ve never seen Ace looking so unsure, shifting on his feet, eyes darting everywhere but you. Normally staying in his presence this long would make you curl in on yourself, taking up as little space as possible, trying not to make an idiot of yourself and failing massively. But something about seeing him look so vulnerable compared to how you usually view him, so human, makes you speak up. “You thought I hated you?”

The red on his cheeks grows deeper. “I–you always run when I try to talk to you. I thought it was because I made you uncomfortable, and I was hoping talking to you more would fix it, but it just made it worse. So I just…make you nervous?”

“Yeah. You do.”

“Why?”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you. “What do you mean why? I thought you just heard why.”

He chuckles nervously. “Right. I–um. I just can’t believe it.”

“Which part?”

He tenses further, but instead of running, he begins to approach, slowly lowering his hat and sitting on the floor across from you. “Any of it, I guess. That you like me. That you think I’m some cool, strong hero, or something.”

“Do you not think you’re cool?”

He hums, closing his eyes in thought. “Yes. But not really.”

“Care to elaborate?”

He sighs. “I know I’m strong, and capable, and I try my best to help people. But…I don’t know. I just don’t think of myself as someone worth getting nervous over.”

“You don’t see why someone might be nervous around an extremely talented and handsome man?”

He grins. “You think I’m handsome?”

“Shut up. You already knew that.”

“You didn’t actually say it earlier. You just said I was good.”

You roll your eyes. “It was implied!”

“Maybe I’m not good with subtext!”

You both laugh, and you find yourself leaning closer. “I think you know damn well that you’re handsome and cool and all of the other amazing things I implied earlier.”

Before you know it, your noses are brushing together, and you can see every fleck of color in his eyes. “Do I?”

His lips are softer than you expected, his touch gentler than you could have dreamed. You don’t even realize what you’ve done until you’re already pulling away, cheeks flushed and a goofy smile on your face.

Ace looks downright giddy. “I never thought I’d get the chance to do that. This is the first time you’ve actually talked to me in months.”

It suddenly strikes you that you’ve finally had a normal conversation with Ace.

And kissed him.

You flush red.

He sighs fondly. “I was wondering when that was going to happen.” He leans forward, taking your hand in his, and is kind enough not to mention how clammy they’ve suddenly gotten. “It might be a little rough doing this if you can’t talk to me. But that’s alright. I think maybe you’re worth the trouble.”

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay

[pboogerswbb]

TOO LOST IN YOU - pt II

Paige Bueckers x bartender!oc

Warnings: toxic!paige, language, some sexual thoughts but no smut in this one (sorry guys), paige is an asshole fr

Wordcount: 4.9k (sorry)

A/N: i got so much love and so many people asking for more after the first part <3 ty all i'm so grateful! this will likely be around 7 parts so please buckle up lol. ALSO I'M SORRY FOR NO SMUT but let me cook guys it'll get good. the point of this part is to get inside paige's head and understand why she is the way she is, things will speed up in the next part i swear. OK GO READ ILYSM MWAH

-

It’s hard being Paige Bueckers. Not every 23-year-old had to deal with the kind of pressure I did. Most of the time it felt like the whole world was watching me, waiting for me to fail. It used to bother the shit out of me but after all the injuries, everything I’ve been through, I thrived on it. I knew I would prove them wrong - prove that I’m great, that I’m me. Just like my dad would tell me, over and over again. I knew I was great, so greatness was expected. But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t come with a great deal of pressure. I always said pressure is a privilege. But sometimes when I lay in bed alone after a game, even a win, the pressure consumed me. I didn’t like to be alone. So I went around different girls’ beds, like they meant nothing. Because they didn’t - they were just a distraction from my own mind. Like I said, it’s hard being Paige Bueckers - hard being me.

“You okay babe?”

I’m shaken out of my thoughts, returning back to earth, back to the small bed I was lying in. The brunette next to me nuzzles her nose into my arm, watching me with that look I knew too well. Like she wanted something from me. I hated when girls looked at me like that.

I clear my throat, trying not to flinch as she wraps her arm around me. “Yeah Zoe, ‘m fine,” I murmur, letting her press herself to my side, her body sticky from our prior activities. Zoe was a cuddler, so she was usually last on my roster. It’s hard to plan your escape when a girl clings to you like a koala and worst of all, wants to sleep like that all night. I never got that, cuddling while sleeping. It gets hot, sweaty and cramped, I find it hard to believe anyone actually enjoys it. People just think they do because they’re in love or something. And I can’t afford to be in love. I had a natty to win.

Zoe’s slender finger brushes through my blonde hair and I can feel that claustrophobic, uncomfortable tightness inside me. Like I had to get out. Her dorm was dim and the air was heavy and slightly humid from the second round I had insisted on. The sheets stuck to my skin uncomfortably and her bed made this annoying sound everytime I moved or even breathed.

I turn my gaze to Zoe who’s looking at me, all googly eyed. Oh God. She smiles wide and presses a kiss to my cheek. The scent of her shampoo lingers in the air, the smell of banana and some kind of citrus. I had never liked banana scented things.

“Uh, anyway that was fun,” I mumble, and sit up on the bed, forcing her off me as gently as I could. “But I got practice early,” I add, reaching for my t-shirt and throwing it on.

I don’t notice the offended look on Zoe’s face. I grab my phone from the floor, checking my texts urgently.

Yo you tryna do a lil sum tonight?

I know ur not workin sooo we could have a lil fun like we did the other day

Valerie?

I sigh, feeling the knot in my stomach tighten as I stare at the read receipt underneath the texts. I tap on the back of my phone case impatiently, wondering if sending a fourth text would make me pathetic. Maybe I should just call her? Nah, I must be trippin.

Since I met her at Ted’s, Valerie was the first I called when being in my bed alone was tearing up my mind. But it didn’t mean anything, she was good in bed, good at making me forget who I was when I needed to. Also, I liked how she smelled, like coconut. And when she tangled her legs with mine I didn’t shutter or pull away. Sometimes I even wrapped my arm around her, pulling her into me. Not because I needed her. But because her body felt good against mine.

“Aw baby really?” Zoe whines in an overtly soft voice, wrapping the blanket around her as she scoots up on the bed. Her plump bottom lip, swollen from the rough kissing earlier turns into a pout. I quickly avoid her gaze, my eyes landing right onto the floor looking for my pants. “I wanted to cuddle.” Figures.

“I know baby, me too,” a lie, she would never know that though. “Can’t keep my hands off you if I stay tho and I need some sleep.” I lie more, never looking at her. She buys it though, like she does every time. It’s not like I liked to lie, but I also didn’t like disappointing people. Especially girls that looked at me like that. It would kill her to know I texted three girls after Valerie didn’t answer, and the only reason I was here was because Zoe was the fastest to reply..

I leave Zoe like that, naked in bed, pleading with her eyes. Sometimes I felt bad, because I could tell she really liked me. But then I remembered how hard it is to be Paige Bueckers, and I didn’t feel so bad. My job was to be great on the court. Everything else was just background noise.

-

I sit by the court, my chest heaving, throwing my head back to down some water. The squeaking of sneakers echo all around me, blending in with the sound of Geno’s voice screaming at some of the girls working on plays. Coach had been killing us today, not happy with how the last game had went. We had still won, but that was merely a reason to celebrate in his eyes. 

All day I’d been missing shots that should’ve been child’s play for me. I couldn’t help but beat myself up. I was distracted, unfocused. I had been killing myself on the court, hoping it would bring me to my senses. Geno had been the one to tap me on the shoulder and force me to take a break I wipe the sweat off my face into the inside of my shirt, and grab my phone.

Bro are u alive?

I’m gettin worried lowkey

i’m fine paige

Five days. For five days Valerie hadn’t texted me back anything but that. I clench my jaw in frustration, shaking my head to myself. It made no sense to me - yeah we had a falling out but that’s what we did. We bickered and then we kissed and made up, and that’s what we had been doing for months so why was she acting like this now? Well… maybe calling her a psycho bitch last week hadn’t been the best move on my part.

I don’t know why the things she did bothered me so much. When she didn’t laugh at my joke, when she didn’t answer my texts. I don’t know why I felt a constant nervousness swirl inside me when she was mad at me, I had no reason to care. I guess the pussy was just that good, it was tricking me into thinking I did.

“Va-le-r- oh that’s the girl from Ted’s!” KK slams her hands on my shoulders, coming up from behind me, peeping at my phone screen. In a panic, I lock my phone, hiding it from her view.

“Bro, you heard of privacy?” I complain, shoving her playfully as she sits next to me on the ground. KK snickers, her nose scrunching a little as she does. 

“Not since you started peeing with the door open,” the shorter girl next to me argues and I scoff loudly, my mouth wide open.

“One time! And I was drunk!!” I groan, my voice rising a little and eyes going wide. CD quickly turns around and shushes us, shaking her head. Me and KK quickly shut our mouths, my cheeks turning a little red from the scolding.

KK looks at me with raised brows, and then at the phone, and then at me again. Most of the team knew how I kept myself busy when I wasn’t training, but KK was the one who had joined me those countless times at Ted’s and sat with me at the corner table as I watched her. Valerie. There was something so intriguing about her I just had to keep coming back. I always thought once I’d get her to my bed and have my way with her, I’d be done with her, which is how it usually goes. Before I realised that one time turned into five, which turned into me being in her bed getting her right, not even caring about my own most of the time. Getting her off got me off. Just thinking about the way she looked when she came, the way her back arched, her perfect mouth fell open - I really had to stop thinking about her. Why was it so goddamn hard?

It won’t be hard to find another Valerie if she’s gonna keep this difficult act up.

“Girl trouble?” KK asks, her tone more genuine and I roll my eyes, looking at her sideways.

“Yea right,” I chuckle sarcastically, leaning my elbows to my knees. “Just need to find a new one is all.”

KK lets out a small laugh, sipping her water bottle. “The five you got not enough?” She jokes.

I smirk a little glancing at her. “Four,” I correct, as if that made it better somehow. “Just need someone… new,” I mumble, knowing it was the best bet to get my mind off Valerie. I’m sure eventually I’d find someone who was just as hot. Someone who also smelled like coconut.

“Then what do I say to Zoe.”

“Wh- Zoe?” 

KK nods and grins at me. “She texted me asking about your shoe size or sum, wanted to get a gift for you.”

“She- she what?” My voice is full of shock and I can feel the claustrophobic tightness quickly grow inside me. I had never given her KK’s number. She was doing too much. KK just nods, clearly finding the situation amusing.

“Bro…” I groan quietly, as to not piss off CD again, and lean my head forward, resting my forehead against my arms. Zoe clearly hadn’t understood what “just fucking around” meant. Sometimes shit slipped out of my mouth, sure, but I never let her think I liked her. I had to be careful with her.

KK kisses the her teeth and is still nodding. “Yeah… probably time to let her go huh?”

“That bitch is crazy I swear,” I murmur and KK laughs out loud again. I punch her arm, reminding her to keep quiet - an impossible task for KK. Before I can stop myself, the words just slip from my mouth.

“Ted’s tonight?” 

KK looks at me pointedly. “Valerie workin’?” she teases but I shake my head sternly.

“No man, fuck Valerie.” The words tasted bitter in my mouth. “Just need to find a new one, k?”

“You sure you’re not just gon’ ogle at her all ni-”

“KK.” I say sternly

KK nods. “Ok,” she repeats but I can tell from her tone she doesn’t buy it. She shuts up though knowing she could tease me about anything but anything about Valerie got under my skin. Truth was Valerie was working today. I just needed to see her just for a second. Just to know if I was overthinking it, or if she was really icing me out.

-

The Friday night had brought many other students to Ted’s as well, the bar pretty packed and the chatter loud over the music. KK had convinced Ice to join us so the three of us made our way in. The best thing about crowds was it made it easy to blend in, even for us. We push our way through to the bar, my eyes immediately searching for a glimpse of Valerie’s golden brown hair or her wide eyes. All I needed was to see her, I told myself. Even for a second. Then the twist in my stomach would straighten out.

“What can I get you?” The perky voice of the redhead asks over the buzzing crowd. I think her name was Natalie or something. Ice looks over the flyers on the bar, advertising a range of new drinks.

“Let’s try some of these,” Ice suggests and I grab the flyer from her hand. I didn’t really come here to drink so I couldn’t have cared less what we ordered. Especially now I realised Valerie wasn’t even here.

“Uhh yea can we get three Aperol Negronis,”

“You won’t like it,” a stern, but sweet voice interrupts the conversation. I’d recognise that voice anywhere.

Valerie steps out from the back, pinning her hair away from her face and for a moment our gazes meet. Her dark, wide eyes make me let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. For a moment I want to jump over the bar and touch her, to make sure she was really there and not just a mirage of my desires.

“W-why not?” I ask, my voice uncharacteristically shaky. Only with her I got like that. Suddenly my throat felt dry and the nervous twist in my stomach was turning into something you could only call butterflies. Of course I knew it couldn’t be butterflies, because that would mean I cared. I couldn’t afford to care. I didn’t have the time for distractions. I had a national championship to win.

Valerie scoffs looking away from me, ignoring me as I chase her gaze. “Because I know you won’t,” she says. The way she thought she knew me that well irked me. Still, I’d be lying if I said a part of me wasn’t beaming at the fact that I had her attention after a week of trying to chase her down.

I can’t help the pout that forms in defiance. She’s still ignoring me, pouring drinks for a group of boys clearly ogling at her - which only irked me more.

“Well… I want three of them,” I say matter of factly, trying to prove a point.

“Whoa Paige, maybe we should just get a shirl-” Ice chuckles but I shake my head.

“Three Aperol Negronis,” I dictate. Valerie’s stern eyes finally look at me. She looks almost a little scary, not pleased with my tone. “... please.” I add urgently, not wanting to get on her bad side. I guess some would say I already had.

Wordlessly, Valerie rolls her wide eyes and gets to mixing the drinks. I allow my eyes to wander for a moment, noticing how the white shirt of the work uniform hugged her body, the curve of her breasts making my mouth water. Just seeing her was enough to ignite the fire deep in my abdomen. The things I would do to leave with her tonight and take her to my bed, like I had so many times before. I would even settle for just some kissing. Just wanted to let my hands wander down her body, squeeze and feel where I wanted, with no urgency. I needed to feel all of her, wanted to drown in her.

“By card orrr…?” Valerie asks, clearly waiting for the payment. My eyes had gone glassy, and my lower lip had a small dent from the way I’d been biting down on it. I blink stupidly at her, struggling to calm myself down.

“I got it,” KK murmurs and slides her card to Valerie. I grab my drink, and the smell is enough to make my face scrunch up in disgust. I swear it smells like battery acid, and as I take a sip I notice - it also tastes like battery acid. I swallow the orange liquor, it burns on its way down making me cough a little. Valerie was watching me amused. I hated when she was right.

“People actually drink this and like it??” Ice asks, her voice hoarse from coughing as well. KK nods agreeing but I’m too stubborn to admit defeat.

“I actually like it,” I lie with a straight face, my fingers twitching around the glass as I try to get over the bitter aftertaste in my mouth.

“Oh right,” Valerie says, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she turns to another group of customers. I can’t help reach over the bar, my hand grabbing her arm. She turns back to face me, icier than I had ever seen. It shocks me enough that I let go of her, taken aback.

“What?” she asks, her voice filled with annoyance.

“You seen my texts?” is all I ask, and it comes out a little too desperate for my liking.

“Yes,” Valerie says matter of factly. I wait for her to continue but she doesn’t.

“Uh… well thought we’d link up or something,” I add, shifting on my feet as I do.

Valerie sighs in frustration and takes a deep breath to compose herself.

“I’m good,” is all she says and flashes me an ice cold smile. I feel a strange pang in my heart. She had iced me out before, but not like this. Usually seeing her face to face was enough for her to forget our petty little arguments, enough to get her on me again. “I have work,” she adds before finally returning to serve the other customers.

I stand there for a moment, astonished. An uncomfortable ache that had been wavering in my chest was growing too intense for me to ignore anymore. Maybe it was all my fault after all. I had told her I wouldn’t sleep with anyone else and in the moment I had meant it. But then I remembered the stakes. Last year to win a national championship, last year to prove my greatness. I wasn’t going to mess it up just because of some girl. A relationship would be nothing more than a distraction, an unnecessary responsibility. I had enough on my plate. Valerie was selfish for wanting me all to herself. She didn’t understand what she was asking for. Maybe calling her a psycho bitch wasn’t so far off.

I feel someone bump into my back and turn around to find a girl, cheeks blushed and apologetic. I see her eyes widen in recognition - it was always that moment when I knew I could have this girl if I wanted. 

“Oh fuck, I’m so sorry, I’m a little drunk,” the girl giggles and I offer her an easy smile. I consider taking this girl home, imagining the way I’d lure her into my bed, just a little bit of sweet talk and a smirk would be enough, a hand on her waist, thumb rubbing her skin and soon she’d get this look on her face like she had to have me. It would be so easy, and I wouldn’t have to think about Valerie at all.

But the pain in my chest doesn’t go away, even when I let my mind wander further, how this girl would look underneath me, whimpering while I fuck her. It did nothing to make the pain go away.

“‘S fine,” i murmur and decide to ignore the way she was blinking at me, biting her bottom lip. I grab my drink from the bar, and push past her, finding KK and Ice sitting at our usual table. They both look at me, but don’t ask where I’d been. They both knew better. I sip my drink, cursing to myself in my head about ordering it. With sheer stubbornness I finish it quickly, finding that easier than taking small sips. 

“You’re never picking what we drink again,” KK scoffs, copying me, her face scrunching involuntarily when she finishes her drink. But I barely register her words, as I lean back in the chair, head tilting back to watch Valerie.

She’s giggling with Natalie, throwing her head back in amusement. The chatter in the bar is deafening, but I swear I could hear her laugh in my head vividly. Like my brain had memorised each tone of her voice. There was something different about Valerie, she always shined the brightest in every room she was in. Even the dingy bar was lit up by her. She wasn’t even necessarily extremely lively. It was her mere presence that just made everything better. 

I noticed it the first time I ever saw her, early september. All she did was walk past me on campus, talking lively into her phone. It was her voice I had heard before even seeing what she looked like. Her voice had been enough to make me have to see her. Of course she hadn’t even looked my way, not even a glance. That was the moment I knew I had to have her.

“You enjoy it?” Valerie asks KK and Ice, fully ignoring me as she walks to our table to clean up. I watch the golden bracelet she always wore dangling on her wrist as she grabs the empty glasses. I lean back and tilt my head to look up at her, needy for her attention. Licking my lips I look her up and down, that usually worked enough to get her naked. But now, she didn’t even glance at me. Annoyance grew within me as she chatted with KK, laughing at her jokes.

It was then when my eyes moved from her lips to her neck that I saw it - a dark bruise underneath her ear, right on the spot where she liked to be kissed. I knew, because I had left many bruises there and gotten scolded for it. But this wasn’t mine. This was someone else’s.

“Okay well see ya around,” Valerie smiles and turns to take the glasses to the back. I feel the pang in my chest quickly flip, turning into anger. I was furious. Who did she think she was? Sleeping around with someone else, not answering my texts, letting someone else mark her like that. I felt my body turn hot, and without a word to KK and Ice I get up from my seat, nearly knocking it over as I take quick strides to reach Valerie, following her into the back, ignoring the STAFF ONLY sign on the door.

My steps are heavy and loud as I reach her, standing by the sink, handling the dirty glasses. I was shaking my head to myself, trying to control my anger. But it was getting the best of me.

“Staff only plea-” Valerie starts and turns to me, unable to miss the redness of my face, the clenched jaw and the way I was biting on the insides of my cheeks. “Paige?” she asks, furrowing her brows, confused.

The pounding in my head grows and I let out a scoff, not feeling in control of myself. My brain was moving faster than I could follow, I felt lightheaded. I felt furious. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I ask, my voice loud. I didn’t really care about being overheard.

“Huh?” Valerie asks, clearly bewildered, but already getting defensive in response to how I was acting.

“What, you don’t text me, call me or nothing? Because you’ve been too busy fucking some other bitch?” I yell, my hand pointing to her neck. Valerie’s eyes widen in realisation but quickly turn angry too. 

“I- WHAT?” She yells back and takes a step towards me.

“Don’t play dumb. So who is it?” I say sternly, grinning bitterly at her, my eyes looking down at her.

She scoffs and rolls her eyes shaking her head which only infuriates me more.

“I said. Who. Is. It?” I repeat, grabbing her arm. She pushes my hand off her, anger growing on her face as her brows furrowed further.

“How is it any of your business who I sleep with Paige?” She argues.

She had a point. We weren’t exclusive. Matter of fact it was pretty hypocritical of me to be so angry when I had a roster of girls on my phone, ready to answer my calls at any time of day. My anger had taken over though, and the little sense I had when it came to Valerie, was completely gone.

I throw my head back and chuckle bitterly, provoking her further. “See I knew you’re a lotta things but didn’t know you were a slut too,” I hiss, the words slipping out without much thought. I couldn’t think of anything but how furious I felt.

Valerie laughs loud, but it’s not the sweet laugh I was used to. It was a bitter, angry laugh.

“Me?! You’ve slept with every girl that swings your way on campus and even some that don’t! You’re the slut Paige!” she screams, her wide eyes burning with anger, her finger coming up to point at my face. It pissed me off, the way it was assigning blame, like all of this was my fault. Like it wasn’t she who slept with someone.

“I don’t owe you anything!” she declares, her voice revealing a hint of hurt, the way it cracked slightly. “I’m done with you. I’m serious Paige. Done,” she adds, her voice calmer, but more authoritative. “Now get out of my bar.”

My face was hot and red, my chest was heaving and my head spun. The hurt in her voice made me waver, made my chest ache more. I blink at her stupidly as she turns back to the dishes, already missing having her attention. I was fine with the yelling, the fighting, as long as it meant she was looking at me, or talking to me. But now she’s done with me? Fine, so was I. Wouldn’t take me longer than a day to find a new Valerie.

“Pshh whatever,” I murmur and storm out of the back, heading fast towards the exit. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, my chest felt tight and I could taste the bitter Aperol on my tongue still. It made me nauseous,

I’m gasping for air once I feel the chilly breeze of february hitting my skin. The silence outside was overwhelming, forcing me to realise the rapid pace of my own thoughts. My mind was swirling with flashing images of Valerie, on top of someone, looking down at her like she did at me, the idea of her moaning someone else’s name made me sick.

“Fuck!” I shout, unable to control myself. A group of girls near me turn to look at me but return to their conversation when I sit myself down on the curb. What a standard I was setting for student athletes everywhere right now.

My eyes burn and before I notice, a tear rolls down my cheek. I bury my face into my hands and rub my jaw, my anger easing with each exhale. I didn’t know why I was crying, I didn’t understand any of this. I couldn’t believe the things I had said, the way I had acted. I was supposed to be disciplined, in control, but I felt so out of control when it came to Valerie.

“Paigey…” KK murmurs and suddenly I realise her and Ice are standing in front of me, looking down at me sympathetically. Embarrassed, I wipe the tears away and try to steady my breathing.

“Uhh sorry just gimme a sec guys,” I sigh looking at the ground. They sit on either side of me, wrapping their arms around me. I lean into Ice’s shoulder and I’m grateful how they don’t pry, or talk. We just sit there in silence for a while.

I take a deep sigh and lift my head back up, chewing on my bottom lip. I glance at both of the girls sitting next to me, grateful for the friends I had. At least I got one thing right.

“I dunno what just happened,” I sigh, shaking my head thinking back to my behaviour. The shame I felt made my cheeks turn a shade of red.

KK chuckles softly and ruffles my hair affectionately. “I do,” she mumbles.

I furrow my brows and turn to look at her. She looks back at me like whatever was about to come out of her mouth was obvious. KK and Ice glance at each other before KK opens her mouth to speak.

“Bro you have feelings for her.”

Oh?

Oh.

My mouth parts in realisation as I move my gaze from KK to the pavement. It’s just us now, sitting in silence, the sounds of passing cars and the muted sounds of the bar the only noise in the chilly evening.

“C’mon P boogers, let’s go home,” Ice says, standing up and reaching a hand down to lift me up. 

KK hops up and nods. “You need some Tru Fru,” she adds.

With a nod, I let them pull me up, following them to the car. I had feelings for Valerie. Shit. I'd just have to find a way to get over it - I couldn’t afford all this. Not right now. Not with the world watching, waiting for me to fail. Not with a national championship on the line.

-

taglist: @thaatdigitaldiary @wbbismypassion69 @bueckersfive @onlyhereforpazzi @lovegalor333 @mandyvivic @frankoceanlvr303039 @angryflowerwitch @taylynbueckers44 @mamixdanni @rosemariiaa @d3arapril @darkskinchristiandiorpostergirl @vbueckers @sageworld @makethemhoesmad @sierrale8ne @tndaqlifwy @justliketoreadsowhat @oreo2sblog @sftlyortega @slvt4her

NEXT ONE WILL BE HOTTER I PROMISE

[emchant3d]

modern au, exes to lovers, transfem stevie harrington

Stevie Harrington is not having a good day.

By all accounts, she should be. Robin woke her right on time by pressing a perfectly made brown sugar shaken espresso into her hand. Nancy and Chrissy got to the venue earlier than expected. The hair and makeup people were on schedule. Their boozy charcuterie brunch during their prep time was perfectly served, the mimosas delicious and the food fresh and light enough to put on her nervous stomach. 

Everything’s gone off without a hitch. She looks gorgeous. She’s got her something old, her something new, her something borrowed, and even her something blue. Her hair’s done in a soft blowout, framing her face but out of the way, ready for the combs of her veil to slip into. Her makeup is elegant, not too showy and not too dramatic, neutral and warm and sweet. And her dress. It’s what she always dreamed of, clingy and silky with a dramatic leg slit and a long train, off the shoulders, perfectly white. She’s staring at herself in the mirror knowing that in forty-five minutes, she’s going to hold the world’s most beautiful wedding bouquet and walk down the most perfectly decorated aisle in the quaintest, sweetest church she could find, and she’ll stand across from her fiancé and take his hands and say “I do” and all of her dreams will come true.

So she should be having a good day.

Because it’s her wedding day, and Stevie Harrington is about to become Stefania Hagan.

Maybe that brunch wasn’t so perfect after all, because she thinks she’s about to puke.

“I can’t do this,” she says, but her voice is so soft it’s barely a whisper and the girls don’t even glance at her. “I can’t do this,” she repeats, and Robin - bless her, her favorite person in the world, her soulmate, her other half, her maid of honor - glances up. 

“What’s that, Evie?” she asks, and the others look over at her, and Stevie stands there beneath their gazes and knows if she just says it again, says I can’t do this, don’t make me marry him, get me out of here, all three of them would drag her to an exit and get her the fuck out.

They don’t even like Tommy. Robin actively hates him, actually, and that should have been enough for Stevie to never look at him twice.

But it wasn’t. It wasn’t enough.

She thinks back to a few days ago, drunk in a bar with a white sash wrapped around her torso, a tiara on her head, and mascara running down her face as she desperately sobbed on Robin’s shoulder during her bachelorette party. That little meltdown wasn’t enough. And she thinks back further, to when Tommy proposed - in public, at a fucking baseball game, on the goddamn jumbotron. Dread had settled in her chest at the sight of the ring (huge, gaudy, she hated it on sight) even as she pasted on a smile and said yes. That hadn’t been enough.

But somehow standing here done up head to toe, about to walk down the aisle in her absolute dream wedding - that’s enough. Because everything about today is right. Everything’s in place. Everything’s gorgeous and going to plan and she should be so, so happy - but it’s the wrong man waiting for her at the end of all of it.

She can’t do this. 

She looks up and meets Robin’s eyes and forces a smile. “I said I need to get my veil,” she lies, and she slips into her shoes (red bottoms, a gift from Tommy’s mother, perfectly white and pointed and it’s her dream day, how can she be throwing this away?) and walks into the other room where her garment bag is hanging, and her veil is there with its delicate detail and it’s scalloped edges and it’s all so fucking perfect she’s going to scream, she wants to rip it to pieces and she wants to tear this dress off and she wants to sob, she doesn’t want to do this, she doesn’t want to get married - not to him. Not to Tommy. 

She could ask for help. Robin would have her out of here in five minutes flat, Nancy would craft an excuse to tell everyone, and Chrissy would cause a distraction. But even that’s too long of a wait. Even that’s too much attention, too much suspicion. She needs to move faster than that. She needs out now.

She quickens her pace as she crosses the room, dress dragging along the carpet, and she snags her phone where it’s sitting on the end table next to an overstuffed love seat, and in three long strides she’s out the door and in the hall and the church has been busy and packed all day but somehow, miraculously, there’s no one here.

No one sees Stevie as she gathers up the fabric of her dress in her hands and starts to walk towards the exit. No one sees as her walk speeds to a jog, and then a run, and then she slams out of a side door and she’s on the sidewalk and she’s sprinting, her heels are going to get scuffed by the pavement but she can’t care, she’s running as fast as she can and dodging people on the sidewalk as they turn and gawk at her and she cannot give them a thought, cannot focus on them even a little bit because she has to get away, escape is the only thought on her mind as she gasps for air, her dress is so heavy and it’s not made for running that’s for goddamn sure, and the last few years with Tommy flash through her mind - every time he’s undermined her or given her a backhanded compliment or policed her, told her she wasn’t feminine enough, told her she wasn’t trying hard enough to pass, told her to just keep it all to herself so no one would know she wasn’t cis, wouldn’t embarrass him by making a scene, all the times that come together to a glaringly obvious conclusion that he doesn’t really love her and she kind of hates him a little actually, and obviously she can’t fucking marry him and–

There. 

A beat-up four-door with an Uber sticker in the window. 

That’ll do, she thinks, and she changes course, shoulder-checking a man and not apologizing for it as she makes a beeline for the car. She pops off an acrylic wrenching the door open and tossing herself into the backseat, and she yells “DRIVE!” at the top of her lungs and somehow, through some miracle, they listen, swerving into traffic with a loud curse and a myriad of honking horns and a quaint, sweet little church growing smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror.

She’s gasping for breath, chest heaving, staring out the back window like she’s waiting for someone to follow her - and maybe she is, maybe Tommy is hot on her trail, or maybe Robin is coming to kill her for not including her in her mad dash to freedom and instead jumping in a stranger’s car going God knows where.

“So uh,” a voice says, and she whips around, staring wide-eyed at the brown eyes fixed on her in the mirror, and no, no fucking way– “where to, ma’am?” 

“Um,” she says, and her voice is shaky, cracking a little, she brushes her hair out of her face and stares and– wait.

There’s a beat. The driver’s eyes widen. Recognition flashes over his face at the same time it registers for Stevie. 

“Stevie?” Eddie Munson, her ex-boyfriend of several years, the man she hasn’t spoken to since that fateful night they went their separate ways, is staring at her in shock, not even looking at the road, and the only thing she can think is how he’s just as averse to road safety now as he’d been way back when.

“Eddie,” she croaks out. 

Too many emotions are overwhelming her at once and it feels like the biggest cliché in the world, but honestly, Stevie feels like she’s entitled to some dramatics. It’s her goddamn wedding day, after all.

Her failed wedding day.

Where she just left her fiancé at the altar.

“Oh god,” she manages. Her lower lip wobbles. Her vision blurs.

“Stevie,” Eddie says again, like a warning, and that’s enough to push her over.

She bursts into tears in his backseat.

“Hey hey hey!” he says like she’s a fucking spooked horse or something, which only makes her cry more, ugly sobs that shake her shoulders and drip tear drops onto her dress. “Stevie, honey–”

“Do NOT call me honey right now!” she manages, and he raises a hand in surrender before flipping on a turn signal and finding a parking lot to pull over in. 

“Okay, okay! No comforting pet names, you got it,” he agrees, and he shuts the car off, turning in his seat to look at her, concern painted all over his face and that’s just really not fair, she thinks, that he still looks so earnest and sweet and fucking worried about her.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, urgent and serious, and she shakes her head quickly.

“No! No, I’m - I’m fine, really,” she insists and he proves that he is a gentleman after all, because he doesn’t call her out on the blatant lie.

“Okay,” he says, level, his hand hovering in the space between them like he wants to touch her. “What do you need?” he asks, and she wipes at her face with her hands, swallowing down yet another sob.

“Get me out of here,” she pleads, and he searches her face for - something, she doesn’t know what, because she’s sure all she’s showing him is how much of a fucking mess she is, but he must find whatever he’s looking for.

He gives her a sharp nod. “Anywhere in particular, sweetheart?” he asks, turning to start the car again. She doesn’t call him out on the pet name this time.

“Anywhere but here,” she says, and he puts the car in reverse, pulling back onto the road.

“You got it,” he says, and some of that old charm must kick in - he winks at her in the rearview. She resolutely ignores the spike of emotion it gives her. 

Then she takes a deep, shuddery breath, and opens the group chat to break the news to her wedding party.

part 2

[pers1st]

i can't handle change - leah williamson x reader

part two of let down

pairing: leah williamson x barça!reader

warnings: bit angsty

You had expected your first day, merely a day after arriving in the city, to be full of football. Barcelona did media duties occasionally, for sure. But you had expected to throw yourself into training immediately here, mostly in an attempt to conceal your emotions and at least act as though you wanted to give everything for this club. In truth, you wanted to give everything for yourself. You wanted to keep yourself a candidate for the national team, you wanted to keep yourself a candidate for Barcelona once they were ready to sign you back, you wanted to play, partially, out of spite as well. Anger was one of the emotions in your mess of a mind, and although you knew that it was no use, you wanted to show Jona the mistake he had made.

What you hadn't expected was the absolutely overwhelming amount of cameras, catching every inch of you they could. London Colney, otherwise known as the Arsenal training centre, was nice, but it was different from what you were used. The corridors were small and you feared they'd squish you if you stared at the white walls for a second too long. The friendly woman from the entrance, who's name you had missed due to her heavily accented English, had led you all the way to Jonas' office on the first floor, and the man was gauging at you with a grin you couldn't quite place. You shifted uncomfortably.

"So, let's put pen to paper!", he clapped his hands as he gently motioned to the seat next to him after having shaken your sweaty hand.

"Yes", you croaked as you sat down, taking the pen with the Arsenal logo into your shaky grip. The smile on your lips was fake as ever as you scribbled your name onto the dotted line. You fooled them again when holding up your shirt for the cameras. And again as you sat in front of the social media's team, answering all of their questions.

Your move surprised everyone in the Women's Football Community, can you tell us what exactly made you choose Arsenal?

Of course. I think Arsenal are very good with the fans, and they play really good football. I'm really excited to maybe play at the Emirates, and yeah I think anyone can see they are a real family so that's why I'm happy to be a part of it.

They payed the most. That was the answer you would've given, had anyone actually wanted to hear the truth from you. But people didn't want the truth. People wanted you to love Arsenal. And although it pained you, you had to admit that so far, it wasn't that bad.

Leah gave you a tour of her home that was now yours too, and the training grounds were nice. The gym was nice. The changing room was nice. The cafeteria was nice. You couldn't hate the club as much as you had when you hadn't seen it yet - hadn't been a part of it.

"So, do you like it here?"

You thought for a second that you would choke on your food when Wally asked you this, completely blindsiding you as you sat with her, Leah, Laia and Teyah in the dining hall, letting most of their conversation slip past you. Their English was difficult for you, not because you hadn't learned (or, attempted to learn) them language, but because you'd never heard it as much as you did here. The words were starting to become a constant, distant noise somewhere in the back of your mind, but as Wally looked at you expectantly and the others turned towards you, you knew that this wasn't something you could escape.

"Yeah, sure", you smiled. "It's nice here."

"Your contract is two years, right?"

You nodded. "Sí."

Two years. Two long years of being away from Alexia, except for Spanish camps. Two long years of being away from your parents, your actual teammates, your actual home. The thought didn't scare you as much as it used to.

"So, two years and then you'll go back?", Leah nudged you playfully, sipping her water as she smirked.

You shrugged. "We should see."

Over the next few days, you got to know the team, and London, even better. Leah spent every minute she could with you, always partnering with you during training and offering to show you her favorite cafés and places in the city when you weren't kicking balls around, inviting you over to her flat for a movie night or taking you to the little Spanish market she'd found halfway across the city. You appreciated her company, knowing that she was trying to make this transition as comfortable for you as possible. She didn't succeed completely, as you still felt homesick whenever she spared you a minute to call Alexia, or when you checked Barça's social media to see all of your teammates together, seemingly not even missing you.

Logically, you knew that they did. Barça was a family, and Alexia told you everyday that the girls were asking about you. Many of them texted you as well, informing you that they would try and find a livestream of your cup game against Reading, in which you would likely make your debut for your new club. Still, seeing them without you felt like someone was shooting daggers through your chest, piercing the skin and leaving you to bleed. You wanted to be there. You should be there. They had taken that opportunity away from you, ripping it out of your hands and tearing it apart like a piece of paper.

Anger and longing rose within you interchangeably, and if you didn't know any better, you would've believed you were simply going through a breakup like any other. But you forced yourself to push through the first week as hard as you could, keeping conversations with Alexia short in order to not be pulled back into memories and instead attempt to enjoy the present.

You were glad when Laia told you about her birthday party just a few days before your first match. The team had planned to go to Laia's favorite Spanish restaurant, and as you were a part of the team now as well, Kim had extended the reservation for another person. That was how you had found yourself, dressed in a tight black dress with a pullover on top, in Leah's car, allowing yourself to accept her offer to share a ride, trying to ignore the ringing phone in your hands.

Your ringtone cut off the soft country music playing in the background, which you had told Leah many times you would not enjoy. When the ringing finally stopped, you breathed a sigh of relief. Just for it to start again mere seconds later.

"Maybe you should answer that", Leah huffed, her eyes focused on the road but a soft smile on her lips. You shrugged.

"It's Alexia."

"You're ignoring the Alexia Putellas?" Leah's expression turned into a shocked one at once, but you could only chuckle.

"You're feeding her ego. She's just- my best friend, you know?", you attempted to explain how Ale's success had never driven a wedge between the two of you, not only because many believed you were equally good at football, but because Alexia was likely the most down-to-earth person you knew. Of course, the woman knew how good she was. Everyone did. But she'd never let it change her.

"Isn't that just more of a reason to not ignore her?"

You shrugged again.

"I dunno. Don't want to talk to her."

Leah's eyebrows furrowed as you finally reached your destination and she put the car into park. Your phone began ringing again. This time, you declined her call, texting her quickly that you couldn't talk right now.

"Why?"

You shrugged again. It seemed like all you knew to do, but as you looked at the way Leah's expression didn't relent in the slightest, you knew that it wouldn't work anymore. Maybe it was good to talk to Leah. Maybe she would understand.

"It just reminds me of home, you know. I miss it", you croaked, suddenly overwhelmed with longing once more. You wanted nothing more than to be in your apartment again, to drive to the Barcelona training grounds in your blue and red shirt, to join Mapi's banter, you even missed being yelled at by Irene and Marta.

"Are we really that bad?", Leah attempted to joke, a hand of hers flying out to gently land on your knee. Your breath hitched at the sudden contact, your eyes leaving hers to stare at her fingers on your skin.

“No”, you huffed. “Not at all, that’s the problem.”

Sitting in the car with Leah, nothing but the annoying country music in the background, for a second felt like a breath of fresh air. For just a second, you could focus on the warmth of her skin, on the air refresher dangling from her rearview mirror, on the eyes that she lay on you gently, on the softness of it all.

“Should we go?”, you broke the silence, knowing that Laia would not be happy if you were late. It was past ten already, and you softly smiled at the knowledge that some Spanish habits never truly left. It felt comforting to eat this late, as stupid as it sounded. It reminded you of the countless team dinners you’d had with Barça. You didn’t allow yourself, once again, to dwell on the fond memories as you pushed your door open without awaiting Leah’s answer, her hand retrieving from its position as she followed you into the restaurant, a bottle of Spanish wine in your hands. You had brought as much as you had been allowed to bring, and you figured passing Laia one singular bottle couldn’t hurt too much.

The restaurant held a nice atmosphere, one that immediately pulled you in as the bell jingled above your head. Most of the girls were already sitting at the table reserved for you, who all turned as they waved at you happily, grins plastered on their faces. Laia caught your eye first - she was wearing a little plastic crown, grinning like a kid on Christmas as she rose from her seat, hurrying to welcome you and Leah, who seemed to be the last ones to have arrived.

"¡Feliç aniversari!", you hugged Laia shortly, rubbing your hand across her back before pushing the bottle into her hands.

"Merci", she smiled as she accepted it, taking Leah into a short hug as well before you made your way towards the only seats available. The warmth of Leah's body next to yours, the familiar food and music playing softly in the background almost made you forget about the guilt in your stomach. You weren't supposed to enjoy all of this half as much as you did.

Seemingly as a distraction, though you figured you subconsciously wanted to remind yourself of what was your actual home, you opened Instagram. A video of Aitana singing the Barça chant, laughing into the camera with golden confetti around her shoulders, made you halt. You scrolled. You saw the trophy.

Shit - that was what Alexia had been calling you about. Of course. It came back to you flying - the supercopa final was today. How could you have forgotten? It was all you had been looking forward to ever since the winter break had ended. Yet you were so far away from it all, the match had slipped between your fingers, and you were left with nothing but the reminder that Barcelona functioned just as well without you, that they had simply moved on, while you were stuck here - in a Spanish restaurant, with your "friends", trying to remind yourself that if you tried hard enough, this could feel like home.

With a screech, you pushed your chair back and wobbled out of your seat uncomfortably.

"Just need the bathroom", you excused yourself in response to Leah's surprised expression, before marching through the restaurant and leaving all of the girls behind.

The bathroom was empty, luckily, and you let the tears flow at once. How had you been so stupid? How had you thought that, even for a minute, you would be okay so far away from your home, watching your teammates do all the things you wanted to do with them, while seemingly not missing you at all?

It didn't make any sense to you- Barcelona could win every trophy they wanted, while you were stuck in London, not even sure whether they would want you back after your contract was over. Were you delusional? Were you ever going to return to Barcelona?

Just as your brain started spinning further, and you had to steady yourself on the sink, knuckles turning white from how hard you wanted to keep yourself grounded, the door to the bathroom swung open. You didn't need to look up to know who it was - her body was right behind you, and she smelled of vanilla, just like her car did.

Leah. It was Leah who had entered the bathroom. Leah who was frantically trying to get you to talk to her, all the while you were choking on your sobs. Leah, who had tried her best to make you somewhat comfortable in the club she loved so much. How were you supposed to look her in the eye?

[frenchkisstheabyss]

🖤 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖒𝖆𝖓 🖤

🖤 Pairing: ex boyfriend!choi san x chubby!fem!reader (mingi's spoken about but doesn't appear)

🖤 Genre: angst/fluff/smut

🖤 Summary: You make a living stepping on men's necks, literally and metaphorically speaking. Men spend every dime they have for the chance to be your lapdog. You are their weakness. Your dirty little secret? You have a weakness of your own, one you've tried your hardest to leave in the past, but you've managed to make him jealous and, oh, I think he's knocking on your door right now.

🖤 Word Count: 2.3k-ish

🖤 Warnings: reader works as a dom so she does qualify as a ✨sex worker✨ & it's treated as a positive cause slay queen, jealous /possessive San, unprotected sex, fingering, nibbling, scratching, reader for sure has a lil praise kink, this man does not pull out, San's giving dom vibes & reader's quite subby for him, pet names (baby, my girl, good girl) & that's all darlings

🖤 A/N: My chubby girl smut agenda continues with this fic as it will with all others and the best part is, no one can stop me. Mwahahahaha. No, but really, I hope you lovelies enjoy reading it.

Also a big thanks to @anyamaris for test reading everything my brain throws out all of the time. Love of my life, truly.

Your night routine is sacred. Never more so than on nights like tonight when you take extra steps to make it particularly romantic for yourself. You treat yourself like a lover, running a nice warm bubble bath and preparing your favorite fruits to snack on while you soak in it. You don’t rush to cover your body afterward, instead taking the time to find pleasure in every stretch mark and every curve as you massage rich tropical oils into your skin. 

The rain is your companion, singing to you in the form of raindrops patting at your window. Candles burn on your windowsill, tiny lanterns reflecting shadows in the darkness of this place you call home. Crawling into your bed, you slip beneath your freshly washed sheets and scroll through your phone to find the right song. It doesn’t take long to find it. You hit “play” and close your eyes, ready to be swept away by the sweet notes emanating from your phone. 

This is serenity. This is heaven. This is—

“What the actual fuck?” you shout, shaken by an unexpected knock at your door. The knocking is impatient, the agitation of the person on the other end undeniable. You jump from your bed, the sheet still clinging to your figure, and cautiously approach the door. You specifically didn’t schedule any sessions for tonight and your clients know better than to pop up unannounced. 

“Whoever you are, go away! I have a gun!” You do. You have to. In your line of business being able to protect yourself is a necessity. It’d be silly not to have one and if ever there were an example why, this has to be it. The knocking stops. A brief moment of silence passes and then—

“You have a gun?” San asks, more confused than he is threatened. You don’t notice until now that you’ve been holding your breath this entire time but at the sound of his voice, you can miraculously breathe again. “San? What are you doing here?” you frown, cracking the door enough to get a good look at your ex.

The look is, in fact, good. Better than good, it’s wonderful. For all of this mysterious frustration he seems to be carrying, he still manages to be the most handsome thing you can imagine finding in your hallway near midnight. 

San pushes past you, marching into your cozy studio apartment as if it were his own. “We need to talk. Now.” You roll your eyes, holding back laughter as you close the door behind him. “Someone’s sassy tonight” you tease, watching as he removes his wet boots and coat. He places them exactly where they’re meant to go.

You smile to yourself, finding it sweet that he still remembers how things go after nearly a year apart. “Don’t patronize me.” “I’m not patronizing you,” you say, approaching him with a hand outstretched to stroke his cheek, “Sannie—” 

San takes a step back, the darkness in his eyes intensified by your attempt at affection. “And don’t call me that!” “Lower your voice! This is my home. You can respect me in it or get out.” Seeing you upset cools him down a bit. Enough to question the emotions that led him to drive over here to begin with.

He shouldn’t be here. He has no right to confront you. To care what you do or who you do it with. But it’s been eating him up inside for days, plaguing his every waking thought. Some part of him is still tethered to you and that’s why, against his better judgment, he’s here.

“Are you…” he stutters, the anger bubbling up once more at the thought of what he’s about to ask, “How long has Mingi been coming to you?” “Ah,” you gasp, fully realizing the awkwardness of the situation. Dodging eye contact, you head for the kitchen, busying yourself with the tea kettle. “You want some tea? We should have tea.”

Raking his fingers through delicate strands of pitch black hair, he approaches the kitchen and lets himself, for the most fleeting of moments, enjoy seeing you like this again. He’s missed you making him tea late at night. This would be everything he ever wanted under any other circumstance than this. “I don’t want tea. I want you to answer my question. How long?”

“A few weeks” you sigh, abandoning the kettle on the counter, “We ran into each other at the club one night and we started talking then, I mean, I don’t know, it just sorta happened.” In an instant, he’s on you, fingers squeezing your wrists as he presses you against the counter. “Things like this don’t sorta happen!” “Oh, come on, San. I have bills to pay. If I don’t take on clients, who’s gonna pay them? You?” “Haven’t I before?” Something about being reminded of before makes you as breathless as he is. “That was a long time ago.” 

A long time ago but why does it feel like yesterday when he last had your body pressed against every wall in this apartment? So many hours were spent using your fingertips to traverse every exquisite muscle on his body. There are new ones now, you see them flex when he readjusts his grip on you. How good they must feel to touch. God bless the gym.

Shaking yourself free of your lust fueled daze, you break your wrists loose from him. “If that’s all you can go.” Why are you doing this? Why are you so stubborn? You don’t want him to go. Your body—your heart—begs him to stay even if it’s just to argue for the rest of the night. 

“Fine, I’ll leave, but not until you tell me one more thing. Does he touch you? Like I did?” he asks, his expression cold as he tries to contain his jealousy. “Touch me like you did?” you giggle, reaching to stroke his cheek again. This time he doesn’t step away. He lets you touch him, your soft hand warming the cool raindrops on his cheek. A fire ignites in his eyes, not unlike the flames dancing atop the candle wicks. It’s distant, buried somewhere deep, but you see it and it makes you smile.

“I never let anyone touch me like you did” you whisper, “Mingi just wants someone to boss him around. I happen to be good at that. There’s nothing sexual. I could…” San tugs the sheet tightly around your body, gathering the two loose ends at your hip where his knuckles just barely graze the plush of your thigh. You let out a sound that’s almost a moan but not quite. He smirks, bringing his other hand to your side to massage the softness of your love handles. You're so cute when you’re flustered.

“I, uh, I…” you stutter, watching as his lips grow nearer to yours, “I could stop seeing him if you want.” “You’d do that for me?” San asks, teasing your lower lip with his. “I would do anything for you. You know that.” This is what he does to you and this is why you broke things off with him. San’s love brings you to your knees. You fold for him in a millisecond. You’re supposed to have every man in the palm of your hand yet you find yourself, delicate and fragile, nestled in his. 

“Will you do something else for me?” “Like what?” “Kiss me.” And you do. No hesitation. No time for second guesses. Anything for him. A rush hits you, threatening to knock you off of your feet. San only holds you closer, his tongue tangling with yours, indulging in the taste of you. A craving much overdue to be satisfied. 

“Do I still have to leave?” he pants, his voice a low rasp as he kisses his way down your chin. He buries his face in your neck, his kisses growing more passionate with each passing second. You smell good enough to eat and he almost does, nibbling at your neck sharply enough to send chills down your spine. You shake your head, wrapping a leg around his waist to grind against him. The simple act of kissing you has him hard enough that not even the few layers of fabric between you can suppress his need. 

“Fuck, baby” he groans, his eyes nearly rolling back from the rhythm of your hips. You run your fingers through his hair, pulling him back up for another kiss. “Don’t leave me, Sannie. Please.” You’re prepared to beg more, as much as he wants you to, but your words turn incoherent at the sensation of his thumb stroking your clit. His other fingers dance dangerously close to your entrance, happily collecting the juices dripping from your core.

You look down to find that the sheet barely clings to your body, except for a small corner stuck between you and the counter. Everything has fallen away leaving you completely exposed. San’s favorite way to have you. “You’re so wet for me. My girl” he coos, easing two fingers deep into you, “Still my girl? Hmm?” You’re trembling, gripping his shirt as you ride his fingers in time with the flicking of his wrist.

Only he could do this. Make you feel this unbelievably good with just his fingers. "Always your girl. Always—ah” you moan into his mouth before he’s kissing his way down your neck again. The way your back is arched makes your breasts sit so deliciously that he has to taste them. San needs to feel the weight of them in his hands as he captures your perked nipples between his lips, circling them with his tongue. 

His mouth is so full of you that every moan that leaves him vibrates through your chest making sure that you never once underestimate the intensity of his longing. Your thighs are soaked, your pussy dripping—pulsing—clenching around his fingers. Your little squeaks and moans are too pretty. Too addictive. San picks up speed, his only mission to make a complete mess of you or to make you make a complete mess of yourself. Either or both. Definitely both. 

“Sannie. You’re gonna make me—fuck, I’m gonna cum!” you cry, feeling the pressure build within you. “Mmm,” he hums, releasing your nipple but not without taking one last lick of your overstimulated bud. You didn’t need to tell him. You never do. He knows when you're close, down to the second, which is why his timing is perfect when he pulls his fingers away leaving you hanging on the edge of oblivion.

You whine at the unexpected loss, your clit twitching and your walls greedy for something to hold onto. San moves out of reach, taking his time to shed his clothing. “Not on my fingers, baby,” he says, flashing that devilishly handsome smile of his, “On me.” He disappears around the corner and you trail behind him like a bright eyed puppy who wants more than anything to be the object of its owner's affection.

San sits on the edge of the bed, admiring the way your body jiggles as you skip over to him. He takes you by the hand, lowering you onto his lap, and the skin to skin contact sends a shot of adrenaline coursing through both of you. “I could just look at you all night. So beautiful” he muses, palms slapping your ass. His fingers dig in, keeping your hips raised enough that the tip of his cock almost presses at your slit.

You drape your arms over his shoulders, kissing him on the bridge of his nose, “You can look at me all you want.” One of San’s hands disappears beneath you, stroking his length as he lowers you down onto him. He stops at the tip, letting your arousal run down his shaft. “All I want because you belong to me?” You bite down on your bottom lip, eager to take him. “Yes,” you mewl and he feeds you another inch. A reward for being his good girl.

“No more Mingi?”

“No more. I swear.” 

Another inch and your heart skips a beat. This is evil. “No more anyone else” he demands, taunting you with one more inch before taking it back, “I’ll take care of you, my sweet girl. Only me.” “Only you” you promise, unintentionally batting your eyelashes in the most innocent way. San grabs your hips, slamming you down onto him, “Good now cum for me.”

Being stretched by him, full of every thick rigid inch of his cock, is intoxicating enough. But the feeling of handing over control, of letting him have you completely, has you buzzing. San bounces you in his lap, kissing you everywhere his lips can access, whispering every praise he’s saved up for you over time.

Precious. Perfect. Never letting go. Love you. My everything. My world. Mine. Mine. Mine.

“Sannie—” you draw a breath in. A flash of heat hits you and you’re lost to pleasure. Your body explodes and implodes. Heavy and weightless all at once. You gush down his length, every inch of him drenched with your juices. San doesn’t stop, not even when your nails dig deep into the skin of his shoulder. He only goes faster and harder, wanting to break you, his precious girl, and put you back together then do it again. 

But his body’s as sensitive as yours and he can’t hold back, spilling into you to the point of overflow. There’s so much warmth and fullness. It’s comforting, soothing you as you gradually float back down. Lying back on the bed, San cradles you in his arms, not wanting to be anywhere else than right here with you.

You rest your head on his chest, feeling his love for you in every breath he takes. How you ever pushed him away you can’t understand but you know, as he softly kisses your forehead, that you never will again.

[moonsaver]

thoughts on sunday after 2.2? i remember playing through the quest and being FLABBERGASTED the whole time like my GOD he is not beating the yan! allegations after this one. literally so much about his philosophy and perspective on life, and everything seemed to align with that sort of mindset imo and it was just like LSKJDGLSKJDGLJSFJKD

I wanted to answer both asks because i really want an opportunity to just go full blown in on sunday right now!!

Also, YESS i know right? I want to put him in a little glass jar enclosure and shake him around a bit. He's my creature dont touch him!!

Tw: yandere, manipulation, lovebombing(?)

Okay so one thing that I majorly believe in is Sunday was actually deeply lonely, and was much more prone to loneliness than Robin ever was, especially considering the fork in the road regarding their "paths" with Harmony vs Order. I feel that Robin was generally able to get along well with the adults like an amiable kid, but Sunday only ever got along with adults being looked at like "an old soul" and was let in on far more complicated and morally messed up stuff earlier than Robin, which could explain his tendency to never share about his own troubles (as Robin mentions).

And I feel like having been bottling up these feelings for so damn long, it's honestly messed with his head. And the slightest bit of resistance from anyone supposed to be under his control is met with overwhelming "disciplinary actions".

If yan!sunday ever manages to sit down and have a quiet, long talk with his darling, it's going to be quite possibly the most frustrating talk ever. He's not wrong, but he's not completely right either. Trying to disprove him is futile – he'll bolt down each and every argument against his ideals, and honestly starts trying to embed his own ideals into you bit by bit. Like water droplets on a weathered rock. He wears down his darling over time, and it's quite possibly over for you if he decides he wants to throw in the whole "triple faced soul" hypnotising debacle. You can't hide a single thing from this man.

Of course, I don't think he'll go that far unless it's absolutely necessary. Or he has, and you just don't realise it until you're stuck deep inside of a sweet little dream. However, I feel like even if you have the complete opposite views, he's still going to let you be for the most part. He doesn't want to transform his darling – frankly speaking, that's practically changing the very person who he loved in the first place. He holds a bit of sincerety in his heart, which he constantly condemns, but still keeps; a part of him does hope his darling comes around to his views, and at least learns to adjust to them instead of vehemently resisting. He still wants to be able to maintain some level of equity/equality in your "relationship" (as long as he still has more control, of course).

In the other route as mentioned in the second ask, if darling does have similar, but not same views, Sunday is a bit disappointed, although he does suppose it's not the worst..

He's most likely going to ask you about your views, and earnestly listen and make sense of it. Sits down and quietly, patiently listens to you as you try and explain your own views, why you think he's wrong, etc.. and for a moment, you think he's actually being.. kind of sweet. Which is promptly shaken off in the next phase –

He becomes the biggest ASSHOLE.

At first he's pleasant about it; gently persuading you to consider other ideas (his, basically). Sooner that persuading turns to thinly restrained coercion, until he's in a full-blown argument with you.

He starts out with each and every point of yours, whittles it down, breaks and crumbles it apart and hands it back to you with his own, perfectly polished views. He denies, manipulates or twists every little thing you said to his own benefit, speaking in that calm, factual voice of his with pityingly warm, golden eyes that frustrate you; this is the man that's bending every word of yours to his benefit, but at the same time he has so much loneliness and earnest in his eyes you don't know what to say, whether it'll be too harsh, or not. It's a weird game of manipulation and wordplay that eventually breaks you down into hot tears, which he so gently and lovingly wipes away after taking off his gloves. Burying your head into his neck and softly whispering comforting words into your ear; I know, darling, it's hard. I'm sure it's not easy to accept, I know, dear.

It's frustrating, but it's so.. comforting and loving that you almost don't want it to stop. His hand is lovingly petting your head or rubbing your back, his voice coos at you in comfort. If you didn't know any better – you'd think he was more akin to a siren than an angel.

[kanguin]

You know it deeply saddens me how much of an echo chamber Terfs are in. I'll be on desktop and I'll go into the notes of a post, see a shit take from a blogger with a glowing red username, go to their blog, and it's just. 10-30% normal posts, the rest nonstop Terfarama going on. Click on one blog, and all of a sudden there's a free blacklist the more I scroll through. Like, idk, I do not understand people who can dedicate so much of their life and their free time to hating other people. I hate bigots of all varieties, from your common conservative to the libertarian horde to ecofascists to the common Acolyte of Rowling, but this is the first post I've independently made about them because, I don't know about you, as much as these people actively work to make my life and the lives of people I love miserable, I just generally do not want to think about them in my spare time? Idk, I like being happy, I struggle to be happy, so why would I spend so much of my time dwelling on how unhappy a group of people make me?

But idk, maybe they're just keeping themselves in a different environment than I am. I used to consider Tumblr hellish, but ever since I've started curating my dash through selective following and liberal blocking, it's just been so much more peaceful. I come here now to relax, to hear about global events, and to share interesting posts I find, be they fandom or science or what have you. Life in general is rough as it is, why would I ever want to spend more time dwelling on that reality when that doesn't change anything?

I honestly don't think terfs know nor care that all they're ever going to do is push people away, isolate themselves, alienate the world, and harm the people they care about. They're an interesting hate group, one that isn't solely a group in power at the top punching down, but one that is largely comprised of cis women who are scared and shaken by the pain and suffering inflicted upon them by misogynistic society. But fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, and hate leads to teaming up with all the other people who hate just as strongly as you to feel powerful. But that feeling of power is only ever going to be a feeling. Terfs neuter their capability to effect actual change because instead of actually going after men who abuse their power, instead of nurturing their communities to grow past the need for toxic masculinity and the degradation of women, they direct all of their focus on attacking trans women, policing other women, gaslighting trans men, pushing cis men as far away as possible, and throwing everyone else under the bus to get there.

This is such a stupid strategy that even if trans women were actually secretly men and bioessentialism was true, trans women still wouldn't be men with any actual power because they neither claim masculinity, act it out, benefit from it, nor are welcome among it. Cis men regularly attack and abuse trans women en mass, deny them human rights, and deny them positions of authority. It is so, so apparently clear that trans women are below cis men in the social pecking order, so even if someone is so wrapped up in 8th grade science class biology that they can't see trans women as women, it STILL wouldn't make sense to devote so much of your energy and hate toward a group of people who objectively do not hold any societal power over you instead of the ones that do.

I sincerely hope that this epidemic of faux-feminists who court neonazis when it's convenient for them becomes a footnote in the history book someday. Ace exclusionism was largely nipped in the bud years ago, though there still are some shitheads who've never left it, but I've seen hategroups come and go. This one has had staying power thanks to JKR and other prominent figures championing it alongside the global movement mobilizing against the increased rights of trans people, but it can't last forever. I hope all the blogs I've blocked so full of hate get deleted one day when their owners can't stomach the hate poured into them anymore. It probably won't happen, they'll probably still be here until the site goes under, but I still hope. Everyone is capable of change with the right incentives, so hopefully someday soon it will be more rewarding to love trans women than to hate them.

[angel-kyo]

Pay it no mind

Part XXV

In which reader confesses their feelings to Gojo, but it seems these are not returned (maybe?).

Warnings: reader is on the receiving end of rejection (kinda), and the fact that I'm obsessed with unrequited love is a warning itself. Drinking is mentioned, Satoru is ooc and a bit mean. Umm... I don't know. If you think of anything, let me know.

Previous: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII, Part XIII, Part IV, Part XV, Part XVI, Part XVII, Part XVIII, Part XIX, Part XX, Part XXI, Part XXII, Part XXIII, Part XXIV

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“Are you sure you don’t want some company? You look kind of…” Haruki did not finish that sentence, but you could guess what he meant.

Affected? Dumbfounded? Hurt? I am, all of those.

After your argument with Satoru, both of you had returned to the table looking gloom and shaken, and none of you had had the stomach to try the dessert after all.

Out of decency, Satoru had not made any excuses to leave early. But his eyes did not meet yours for the rest of the night, alternating between Haruki, Shoko, and the dessert he would push around over his plate but would not eat. And just like you, he had lost all will to chat with the rest. Then he had said his goodbyes quickly and left you all standing on the street outside the restaurant.

After you accompanied Shoko part of the way in the direction of her house, Haruki had insisted on walking you home.

Now you were standing in front of the closed door to your apartment with concerned hazel eyes trying to decipher what was going through you head.

“I guess I could not impress your friends, could I?” he asked, testing your mood.

You still did not look at him when you replied “You didn’t do so bad. Shoko was quite pleased.”

It was true. Even if the mood had become awkward towards the end of the night, you could tell Shoko had apparently enjoyed herself for a while.

“But Gojo wasn’t… It must have been quite a chat if it let you both that quiet.”

You knew there was no hostility in his tone, but it still reminded you of everything Satoru had told you.

“Is it because…?”

“Why did you have to…?”

Both of you had spoken at the same time, but when Haruki’s eyes connected with yours, he knew the answer to the question he had not finished. “So, it is because of what I said that Gojo got so weird. Am I right?”

He sighed.

It was not like you to look for someone to blame, and in all honesty, you could probably blame yourself for most of what had happened, but…

“He got the impression you and I have something, and now he thinks I was toying with him.”

He figured it had been something like that. He had felt like Gojo was mentally throwing daggers at him when he finally returned to the table and set his eyes on him.

“I’m sorry...” Haruki’s eyes showed genuine regret. “I guess I got petty. The other night, when you told me you felt he actually likes you, and that you wanted to give him a chance…” He smiled sadly. “...I felt happy for you, really. But when I saw him tonight, and the way he looks at you, I realized I would have to let you go.”

He had never seen it up-close, the way you and Gojo orbited around each other; how any of you would say something and immediately look at the other as if waiting for their reaction, the looks and smiles between the two revealing the complicity shared, like a dance you were the only ones who knew the steps of, a synchronized waltz perfected through the years.

You leaned against the door and looked down. “He hates me now though.”

Haruki leaned his side against the wall, looking at you. “You know,” there was a slight change in his remorseful tone from before, “when I was in high school, I was working parttime at this coffee shop, and one day during cashier duty, I spotted this person in the line and immediately felt like I needed to know them. I could have just given them their order and taken their money, but I asked them about the keychain dangling from their bag.”

I remember.

“I’ve never once regretted it,” he said looking into your eyes. “They turned out to be fun and smart, and made me so happy during a time when I was so miserable at home. I even felt a bit jealous of the friends who got to see them every day, and of that Satoru they talked so much about, and who obviously had loved them long before I even met them.”

Right, even back then, you would constantly mention Gojo during your outings. You had thought it was just natural for friends to talk so much about each other, to be constantly reminded of your bond, to see something and wonder if Satoru would like it, eat it, what would he think of it, and the need to share anything you found enjoyable with him.

‘Satoru would say this is not sweet enough.’

‘Satoru likes this anime too.’

‘The other day, Satoru said…’

Looking back at it, maybe you had fallen for him long before your lips touched his.

“I am sure he still feels the same,” Haruki said almost in a whisper as he reached for your face.

Looking at you, Haruki wondered what would have happened if you two had had more time. Would he have had a chance if you had met at a different stage in life? Would you have still drifted apart if your time had not been cut short when you were younger? If only he had met you sooner or maybe later than that hot summer that persuaded you to enter the air-conditioned coffee shop where he was working to escape the heat for a few minutes, would things have been different?

No... It is unfair to blame timing.

Those few minutes making small talk with you stretched into one of the happiest seasons of his youth. He did not want to change it, and hoped you did not either, even if the period when he could hope for anything more than friendship had come to an undeniable end.

“And you and him will sure have many more happy seasons together,” he said before pressing a caste kiss on your cheek and embracing you.

To you and Haruki, this was his way of saying goodbye to the possibility of anything else between you and him, an amicable end to a bright summer.

Unfortunately, to the white-haired man standing farther away in the hallway, who had not heard his words but witnessed his actions, although unnoticed by any of you, it felt like the end of the world he had been living in for the last few weeks.

***

If anyone had told Yaga that hiring two of his own former students as teachers would make his life this hard, he would have decided against it from the start.

Gojo was MIA, and he had had to call a substitute to cover for him. And then, there was you, who while physically present before your students, did not look as focused as usual.

You had taken your class to the training grounds for an improvised training outside, or that was what you were telling to Principal Yaga.

“I didn’t think ‘improvised’ was your teaching style, [name],” Yaga said while observing your students. “That’s more like Satoru’s.”

“I suppose,” you agreed, trying to ignore the painful feeling hearing his name caused.

Yaga glanced at you from the corner of his eye. Your face was turned to the training grounds ahead of you, but a look into your eyes would easily reveal your mind was somewhere else.

As your former mentor, Yaga usually trusted your teaching methods and knew better than to pry on your personal business, so he opted for letting it is slip.

“Now, about Satoru, you wouldn’t happen to know where he is, would you?”

That question seemed to briefly pull your mind from wherever it was, and Yaga saw you focus on the kids running around in the field and shake your head lightly. “No, I haven’t heard of him.”

Nothing since that night.

“What a way to slack off,” Yaga grumbled. “I’ll have Ijichi pay him a visit.”

Despite your low spirits, that thought amused you.

Poor Ijichi; he had been your junior in high school, and while he had become a reliable assistant, still looked up to you and Shoko. You suspected he held some of the same respect for Gojo, and that may be why he put up with his antics so much. That did not mean that Satoru had stopped treating him as his underclassman, though.

Even if he can find Satoru, he will be lucky if he can talk any reason into him and drag him to the school.

“Right, why don’t you go instead?”

Yaga was looking at you, waiting for your answer.

Had you said that aloud?

“Me?" you asked. You? Reach out to Satoru, after everything that had happened? "I can’t.. I mean, I have to watch my students.”

Lame excuse, and by the way Yaga kept his eyes on yours, you could tell he knew it was just that, an excuse.

Of course, he probably was not caught up with all the drama between you and Satoru, so he did not see any issues with his request.

“You mean the students who are about to shot us an arrow?”

“What…?”

You did not have time to finish the question when indeed, and arrow infused with curse energy flew by between you and Yaga followed by the gasps and ‘watch out’ screams of the kids.

You looked at them in disbelief and yelled, “I said no cursed tools for now! Put that away.”

Their obedience probably was motivated by Principal Yaga’s stern watch on them rather that your scolding.

“Sure, you may need to keep a sharper eye on them.” The principal’s expression was a severe as always, but you thought you saw the ghost of a smile on his face. “Check on Satoru later, alright? And tell him that he should pass by my office when he finally decides to grace us with his presence.” Now his tone had been a bit more serious.

With that, Yaga left.

Only once he was out of your sight, he allowed himself to smile more openly, remembering a certain group of students who had done their own fair share of mischief back in the day. Not that he would not give one of them a good scolding for skipping work though.

***

“Hello?” you asked, cautiously stepping into Gojo’s apartment.

You had knocked, many times actually, but there had been no response.

He had missed the whole workday at the school; as far as you knew from the assistants, he not been sent on any missions, and even Shoko had confirmed not having communicated with him at all that day.

He had not responded to your texts or calls, so you did the one thing you had been hoping to avoid all day: going to his place.

After some awkward minutes knocking on his door, you decided the situation was getting concerning and took out the emergency spare key you had to Satoru’s apartment.

When you were finally in, the darkness was the first thing you noticed. The sun was going down and some light still filtered through the partially open curtains.

Maybe he is not home?

“Satoru?” you called.

You walked further into the apartment and saw Gojo laying down on the couch of his living room. You stepped closer and noticed he was asleep.

Carefully, you towered over him.

Is he sick or...?

Only then, you noticed the half-full bottle of vodka on the table. Since when did he have alcohol at home?

“[name].”

Satoru was laying still, looking at you with half-lidded eyes, and you took a step back, straightening up. “You’re awake.”

He sat up. “How did you get in?”

At least he does not look too drunk.

You raised your hand, still holding the spare key he had given you. “You did not come to the school. Have you been here the whole day?”

His focus shifted to his surroundings as if he was disoriented.

“Where is your phone? We have called you a hundred times. Yaga is pissed, and…”

“Can-can you stop?” His brows were furrowed, and he was pinching the bridge of his nose. “I have a headache... Why is it that you are you here again?”

You huffed. “Yaga asked me to come here. Are you drunk?”

You did not recognize the look he gave you and his eyes drifted to the bottle sitting in front of him, the recollection of the last couple of days slowly coming back to him. Him telling you those awful things in the restrooms, him going to your place because he felt bad for saying them, him seeing Ikeda getting all affectionate with you, his blood boiling at the sight and the ache in his chest that followed.

The rest was a blur.

He had bought that bottle and been hesitant at first about drinking any of it. No, he did not like the taste of it nor the burning feeling in his throat, but once the alcohol had settled in, it would numb his senses, and if he was lucky, he would fall unconscious into a prolonged dreamless sleep. At that moment, it looked exactly like what he needed. The only thing he had not considered was the pounding headache he would wake up with.

The place was almost completely dark, but the little light getting in shone too brightly. He closed his eyes.

“Satoru?”

With effort, he opened his eyes enough to see you were handing him his blindfold. He must had left it discarded on the floor.

He took it, and the way his fingers brushed yours did not go unnoticed by either, but he quickened to pull his hand back and cover his eyes as if it had not happened.

You let a soft sigh scape your mouth. “Can we talk?”

You looked at him expectantly.

“I think we’ve talked enough,” he said in a flat tone.

He knew you needed to talk. What had happened in the restrooms that day had hardly been talking. It had been yelling and accusing, mostly from his part. He had felt ashamed for exploding like that, but when he thought of Ikeda holding you in front of your apartment, he could not help but feel hurt and betrayed all over again.

“No, Satoru. I mean, actually talking, explaining, and…”

And telling you I love you.

“I said there is nothing to talk about, [name]. Please just leave me alone.“

You swallowed your words. He wanted alone time. That was understandable.

“Okay,” you agreed almost breathless. “I get you are not feeling well.”

You eyed the bottle on the table in front of him. “Don’t drink more, okay?” Your voice was soft, mindful of the headache he had.

You wanted to stay and look after him, just as you always did when he was not feeling well, but his rigid posture and the way his face was turned away from you, was a clear sign that he would not be receptive to your presence now.

“And call Yaga," you continued. "He wanted to know if you’re coming to the school tomorrow or if he will need another substitute.”

The slight nod he gave you was the only confirmation that he had heard you.

“Okay,” you nodded back and turned to leave.

“[name]?”

You halted at the mention of your name and walked back, hopeful.

Satoru was still looking at some invisible point in front of him instead of your face, and the fact that his blindfold was on, and the room was almost completely dark made it only harder to read his expression.

“I’d like you to please leave your spare key.”

Huh?

You blinked once, twice. Your throat was closing. Why did you suddenly felt like crying?

Was it the foreign courteous tone in which he had request it? Was it because he was asking you to return a symbol of your friendship and trust in each other?

Perhaps, it was the underlying meaning behind such action why your hand trembled slightly when you placed the key on the table in front of him.

If he noticed the tear that landed on his carpet when you bent forward or if he was tempted to stop you and comfort you, you could not tell because you had never walked out of Satoru’s apartment faster.

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

Note: Sorry for any typos, errors, etc. I'll proof-read later... at some point...someday.

For now, I hope you are all well. <3

Thank you for reading!

Next: Part XXVI

@mavs-stuff @witchbybirth @crookedlyaddictedone-blog @tqd4455 @maybe-a-bi-witch @mo0nforme @maliakealoha @zacatecanaaaa @blushhpeachh @astriarose @missesgojosatoru @ba-ks @sukunasleftkneecap @songbirdlully @cole-silas @heijihattorisgf @chokesonspit @hersheyzzz @smolbeanzzz @luciledreamz @avidreadee123 @moonmalice @ratscandaler @sadmonke @allie-jay @username23345 @spin-garden @ashehateaccount @kayzens @blehtotheblehtothebleh @stellasloth @bloopsstuff @cheesemachine44 @tetsuski @rosellerinfrost @catowru @bi-narystars @wondermilka @fortunatelyfurrygiver @shrxui @cc1306 @chili-paste

[shes-an-artist]

My Snowman and Me - Bucky Barnes fluff

summary: you and Bucky have a snow day

 Warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff, fluff, fluff, fluff and you guessed it, fluff

A/n: So I may or may not have gotten everything accurate but there's more fluff in here than I wish to admit. And it might have been a litter longer than needed, but what the bloody heck, who cares, have some fluff.

You had never seen so much snow in your life. True, you'd seen the pictures of New York during Christmas time, but you'd never actually BEEN there. And it was worth every moment.

And your boyfriend was there too. 

Not that he wasn't absolute boyfriend material, and he was. Or is, however you wanted to put it. Bucky was a perfect gentleman. 

Tony had texted you earlier that morning, saying that you and Barnes could have the day off since everything was going smoothly at the Avenger's tower. You immediately bolted to Bucky's apartment down the hall and started stamping on his door. 

"Bucky Barnes! Wake up!"

When his sleepy face appeared in the crack of the door, you smiled. 

"Hey, doll." He mumbled, looking rather shaken from his evident sleep. "Whats wrong?"

"I wanna go outside. We have the day off." You showed him your phone which displayed Tony's text. Bucky rubbed his eyes and looked at your phone before looking back at you. "Baby, it's 20 degrees outside."

"So? C'mon, there's a reason you have a jacket!" You pouted, taking your phone back. "I wanna build a snowman!"

"Right now?"

"Yes, Bucky. Right now."

"Oookay. Lemme wake up first."

"Dress warm!" You called before he shut the door and bolted back to your apartment. You wolfed down a bowl of baked oatmeal before making one for Bucky when he got there. Your baked oatmeal was crunchy and creamy, not that mess of tasteless glop normal oatmeal was. Plus your threw in some brown sugar on top of it before you warmed it up. 

After eating you hurried to layer up, a next-to-skin shirt, your thermal leggings, a cotton t-shirt, a pair of jeans, your wool socks, your combat boots(compliments of Bucky) and your white jacket with black gloves. You were tugging on your hat just as Bucky knocked on the front door.

"It's open, Bucky!" You called as you started to lace up your boots. 

He walked in and leaned against the doorway, his hands shoved into his pockets. "You look warm enough to snuggle with."

"Hey, patience, soldier." You stood up, smiling. "You'll get some later. I got you some oatmeal." You squeezed by him, grabbed the bowl and set it in the microwave.

"Thanks, doll." He rested his chin in his hand as he sat on the counter, watching you move through the kitchen with fluid steps. "You're cute." 

You touched your face, sure that your blush could be seen a mile away. You spun around, trying not to look flustered p, but you evidently failed when he broke into a grin.

The microwave stopped you from making a remark as you set his breakfast in front of him. "Eat before I say something silly."

"Yes, ma'am."

He finished off his oatmeal, watching the entire time. "I still think you're cute."

"James Buchanan Barnes." You couldn't hide your smile as you crossed your arms. "Flattery will gain you nothing."

He stuck his tongue out which made you hide your face again. A giggle erupting from your core.

"James!"

"What??" He slid off the bar stool and put his bowl in the dishwasher. "Now are you going to show me how to make a snowman or not?"

You straightened up, fixing your collar and before you knew it, you were both downstairs making a snowball apiece to see how far you could throw it. 

"Ready?" You raised your eyebrows, your competitive spirit rising. 

"Anytime you are," Bucky returned the glance before gazing out over the white blanket that hid the trees that peppered the courtyard. Oscar and the old man were back inside already, but there was a number of younger kids and their parents playing in the snow. Apparently they had decided to make one giant snowman, and they had made pretty good progress so far, with a massive ball on the bottom, about four feet high.

"We'd better throw over in that direction," you pointed to your right, toward a less populated area in the courtyard. 

"Good idea." Bucky nodded. "Wouldn't want to get pelted in the back of the head by the Winter Soldier."

"Noooooooo." You tried to sound serious, but you both knew you weren't fooling the other.

"And no using the metal arm either."

"You know I can't throw left-handed." 

"Just a precaution." You closed your eyes as you finished rounding off your snowball. 

Bucky said nothing but shook his head, you were glad he hadn't cut his hair before winter set in. You had to convince him to wait til spring to do so. 

"Okay, if we get it past the fountain."

"Five dollars says you don't." He grinned at you. 

"Deal." You returned the grin. "After you, good sir."

Bucky made a show of looking like a baseball pitcher, the frown, the look of concentration, everything. You snickered before he let the snowball loose. It sailed over the courtyard and burst into powder against the light post next to the brick wall.

"Impressive." You smiled as he backed up. "But I know better than to compete with that."

"There's still five bucks on the line."

"Yes, yes, yes," you stepped forward, weighing the ball in your hands. You looked outward and hurdled the ball over the fountain, but it barely made it ten feet past it before it fell into the blanket of snow.

"You owe me five dollars, you swindler." You spun around to face Bucky, his eyes rolling back into his head, and his arms crossed.

"Whatever. Okay, so I was wrong."

"C'mon." You smiled tugging his arm into the snow. You were so glad for the boots he had got you, they were definitely keeping your feet dry and warm. You let him go and flopped into the bank of snow, the top layer fluffing up and the next layer making you grunt as it was harder than you thought. But you didn't care. You giggled as you pushed yourself up, but Bucky wasn't beside you. You looked around and spotted his dark figure holding a small child up as they put the orange nose on their rather tall snowman. When they stuck it in firmly, they clapped and cheered, turning to see Bucky's reaction. He made a gasping noise and set them down, making sure they were steady on the lumpy snow.

"Thank you!" They said in an enunciated voice as they waddled away. Bucky straightened up and walked back to you. 

"Are you comfy?" He bent over you, his hands shoved into his pockets. 

"Mmm, if you were down here too, just maybe." You tried to look innocent. 

"But it's cold down there."

You muffled your laugh with your mittens, completely sure your cheeks were red. 

"C'mon," Bucky laughed and hauled you to your feet. "Build me a snowman."

"On it, sir." You began to ball together a large lump of snow, patting the looser parts into place. 

You rounded it to around two feet tall, making sure it was solid before rolling another ball from the snow. 

"Sit on that." You pointed to the second ball. 

"What?" Bucky tilted his head. 

"You heard me, soldier, sit on it, please." You repeated with a grin.

"Yes, boss." He smarted, lowering himself onto the snow, resting his chin on his hand which was propped up on his elbow. "Now what?"

"Now get off."

"Whats all this on off stuff??"

"I had to compact the snow, how would you do it?" You shrugged, finishing off the ball and picking it up to place on the bottom ball. 

"Touché." He shrugged.

"Almost done. Ah, shoot!" You slapped your hands on your sides, shaking snow off.

"Whats wrong?"

"I didn't think about the eyes and the nose..." 

"Don't move-" he tapped your arm before disappearing across the courtyard, bending over a bed of rocks that the kids had dug up from under the snow. 

"Haha!" He returned victoriously, holding up two rocks about the same size. "For you." 

"Thank you, Bucky." You reached up and pecked him on the cheek, but you could see his cheeks flush red before you turned and began to make the top ball, or the head. "How about you hang onto those? Wouldn't want them to run off."

"Noooooo," he imitated you, pocketing the rocks.

Ugh, why did he have to be so sweet? You laughed inwardly, gingerly picking up the top ball and setting it on the center of the middle ball. 

"Tada," you stood back, admiring your work. "Now, you put the eyes in."

Bucky looked at the rocks in his metal hand and held them out to you. 

"No, no, you can do it. You're helping me." You smiled, shoving your mittened hands into your pockets. 

"Okay," Bucky shrugged and popped the rocks into the snow, shoving them just far enough to secure them. 

"Now, the nose...." you muttered, looking around. "It's not a reasonable snowman without a carrot nose.."

"I can't pull a carrot out of thin air." 

"Dang it."

"Shhh, Steve can hear a flea swear."

You snickered, the image of Captain America screaming through a magnifying glass, "LANGUAGE!" appearing in your head. 

You and Bucky looked around, you knew you didn't have a carrot in your apartment, and neither were you about to walk four blocks to the grocery store just for one carrot-

You were about to give up, but the small child Bucky held earlier was tapping on his pant leg. He looked down and crouched to the child's level.

"Yes?"

"Here." They held out a tiny carrot, a small bite taken out of the end. "Snowman needs nose."

"He obviously does." Bucky nodded. "Do you want to put it up there?"

"Uh-huh." 

"Okay, here we go." He picked them up again, carrying them gingerly to the snowman and made a booking noise when they poked the carrot into the snow. 

"Tada!" He looked at the little boy.

"Ta- da!" He tried, enunciating more and looking to you for approval.

"I love it!" You smiled, clapping.

Bucky set the boy down and let him wander back to his family. 

You watched as he did, snuggling up to him. "You're too sweet."

"What?" Bucky looked down at your when you looped your arm through his. 

"I said you're too sweet."

"I think your hallucinating." He smirked.

You shook your head, looking back to the snowman. "He's a little lopsided, but he'll do."

"And I'll bet you'll watch him when the snows melts and just wave goodbye." 

"I just might do that!" You laughed. "It'll be like loosing a family member!"

Bucky just rolled his eyes, but the grin on his face indicated his amusement.

You stifled your yawn for the fifth time as you and Bucky walked through the lit street, the Christmas lights had been up for a few weeks now, but you hadn't been able to really enjoy them. Missions and SHIELD business, all that junk.

Bucky seemed to be mesmerized but the display, his eyes scanning everything he could take in. A smile grazing his lips every time he glanced at you.

"You like it, Bucky?" You held his metal hand, knowing it was probably cold from the extended time in the cold. Not that he complained. 

"It's gorgeous. But you outdo it all."

"Aww..thank you." You ducked, hiding your blush. "You just looked so far away."

"It's been a long time since I've seen Christmas." He rumbled, your boots crunching over the snow. 

"Mm, do you remember it?"

"Vaguely. Just the feeling, I guess. The smells, some of the tastes, nothing more."

"Did you guys have a tree in Brooklyn when you were growing up?"

"I..think so? I'm not sure if we did or not."

"That's okay," you assured, squeezing his hand. "I have a tree."

"I'd like that," he smiled at the ground. 

You smiled as you both paused at a window, the glass was a little foggy but inside was one of those ceramic villages decorated like an old town for Christmas. The train chugging around in a circle around the edge of the white cloth that was laid for snow on the side table. It was almost magical how nostalgic this was. 

You looked at Bucky who was utterly fascinated by the little houses and shops spread before him, the hand painted little details on the roofs, the tiny people in and out of the street. 

"I really like these little things," you commented. "They really just make Christmas the way it is."

"Look," he pointed through the glass, there was a small building with the Avenger's symbol on it, and on the outside were tiny figurines of the team, Stark, Thor, Cap, Natasha, even Banner and Clint were there. 

You and Bucky shared a glance and burst into a laugh. "We'd better not let them live this down."

"Oh, no, no." Bucky shook his head, his smile making your heart swell. To see him happy and smiling meant the world to you. "Not on your sweet life."

"At least they didn't include you, that would have been cruel and inhuman."

"What?? Hey, I have a key role in the team, young lady. What are you talking about?" He grinned, his tone playful. You snickered and bumped his shoulder as you kept walking down the street. You were glad he could take your mild banter, you used to have to walk on eggshells when it came to teasing. But it was one of your love languages, which he soon learned and even sassed back every once and a while. He had a sense of humor somewhere under that stone wall he had built around his mind. You just had to chip through with a little kindness and patience and simple human companionship.

 You felt his metal arm squeeze harder, the metal plates shifting down the forearm.

"You cold?" You slowed your pace and looked at him. 

"A little."

"You wanna go home? I'll make hot chocolate."

He seemed to turn your offer over. "Okay."

You smiled as you both turned around and began to head back to the apartment complex 

Apparently while you were both gone(and it probably happened the previous night, you just didn't notice) but your apartment building was showered in lights and a massive wreath hung where the building split into two parts.

"Oh, wow--' you breathed, awe overtaking you. You felt the chill as a warm tear traced it's way down your cheek. You hurriedly brushed it away, this was not a Hallmark movie for Pete's sake--

Bucky drew you closer to his side, his presence making it all the better. This was probably the first real Christmas he'd spent in his hometown. HYDRA wasn't on his back, Steve was here, no enemies(at the moment) and most importantly, he thought, he had you. He knew better than to ask since he probably knew the answe- 

"Can I stay over tonight?" He slowly asked.

"Of course, Bucky." You smiled. "You know I'd never turn you away."

He was silent all the way to your apartment. He was always quiet, but when he rarely spoke, he was going numb quickly. Had you dragged him outside and brought on past memories? Was he about to have a flashback...?

"James," you started as he shut the door behind you both after you walked inside the warm apartment. "I'm sorry if I made you remember things you don't want to remember, I know you don't really like the cold, and I don't blame you, but-"

"Shhh." He right hand came up and touched your chin, his finger barely coming in contact. "Baby, I'm okay. Honestly? If you hadn't been there the whole time, yeah, I might have gotten scared...and ran off. But I have you. You're my rock, you make everything better."

You could have sworn you melted right on the spot.

"I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't showed up." 

"Thank you, James." You smiled warmly, you hand coming up and grasping his. 

"Now about that hot cocoa."

"On it, Sergeant." You made a salute and strolled into the kitchen, turning the small radio you always kept on the counter to the AUX setting and plugged your phone it, starting the playlist you always had for soft moment or just background noise.

Bucky settled onto the bar stool and watched your movements as he always did, it was a habit he'd made after being 'assigned' to you. As the Soldier, he'd watch your movements carefully as you'd move around the kitchen while making your dinner and his. He inhaled the scent of cinnamon as you sprinkled a little into the mix before shaking up the bag and pouring it into the ceramic mugs that stood on the counter. You looked up and met Bucky's eyes, a smile breaking out on your face as he stuck his tongue out. 

"Would you stop, James? I look like a teenage girl when you do that."

"Do I look like I care?" He raised an eyebrow. 

"Oh, what am I going to do with you." You sighed with a smile, leaning against the island while the water warmed on the stove behind you.

He smiled at you again, his gaze turning to the radio as an older song came on.

"You listen to 40's music??"

"Etta James is not 40's, Bucky."

"The song is." He slid off the stool and came around the island to your side. 

"What?" You looked up, his frame much taller than yours seemed to demand something. "You want to dance?"

He nodded, his metal hand finding your soft flesh one. "Uh-huh."

"Okay." You gently let him lead, his hand pulling your middle close to his, your feet practically on top of his as you both glided over the wooden floor of the kitchen, the song was low enough that you could hear Bucky's heartbeat through his shirt. It was fast as you guessed, yes the super-serum made his heart-rate higher than normal, but you were not a serum. You made his chest fly away when you touched him or even whispered his name.

"Bucky, the waters ready." You mumbled into his shirt, your warmth just now taking the biting pain rom his arm.

"But you're busy."

"Bucky." You knew better than to push away, but you reached over and turned off the burner before you boiled all the water away. 

When the song ended, you felt his kiss on your forehead, his hand fingering through your hair.

"I love you." His whisper nailed you to the floor. He'd never said that, not out loud at least.

"W-what?"

"I said I love you."

"I..I love you too, Bucky." You breathed. His fingers traveled to your neck, gingerly falling behind your hair and resting on the back of your neck. 

"I really don't know what I would do without you." He admitted, his eyes soft.

"I'm here, James. I'll always be here."

You felt his weight shift as he forced himself to pull away to let you get the warm drinks made, his eyes always following your movements. 

"I should have put the blanket in the dryer..." you mumbled as you carefully pouring the still-steaming liquid into the mugs, putting a spoon in each to stir.

"But I have my personal space-heater." You smiled at Bucky while you pushed his mug across the island to him. "Would you like marshmallows?"

"Please." He said softly. 

You poured three marshmallows in your own mug before plopping three in his mug.

"More?"

"More."

You dropped in three more. 

"Thank you." He shyly smiled, taking a long slow sip of the warm drink. His features brightened as he warmed, his left shoulder became less tense and his fingers seemed to tingle.

"You want to move to the couch?" You stirred your marshmallows into the drink so they dissolved.

He nodded, his tiredness showing through. He wasn't active today, but you could tell he didn't sleep long last night. The bags under his eyes were getting smaller each week, though.

You watched him very carefully lower himself onto your couch, his hand immediately finding the large blanket you always kept there. You smiled as he silently patted the cushion next to him, inviting you over, 

"I'm coming, soldier," you smiled. He did this a lot before he went to Wakanda. You never understood why the Soldier was so...docile toward you when he was so aggressive toward others. Was it something as small as your presence, was it your similar need for healing?

"Hey," he tugged on your sleeve, pulling you from your thoughts, "you look far away."

"Sorry, thinking again," you nestled against him, your legs tucked under the blanket as his hand found your hair again. Even though he had a need for other warmth, you could immediately feel his heat through your small space. 

"I love my space heater." You giggled, bumping the side of your head on him.

"Space heater, really??"

"Don't deny it, you're like a fire."

"Love you too, I guess." He smirked as he took another drink. You knew he was playing. You looked out the window to see the lights across the city. You felt safe and secure, like there wasn't a horrid world out there that would take your mind and your very being away. Maybe it was going to be okay.

As long as you had Bucky and he had you.

It was gonna be okay.

Thank you for reading! <3 ~ Sandy

Dividers by @strangergraphics, credit to @embbarnes for inspiration.

Part of @buck-star's Fluffy Winter Event.

[moonacrefarm]

anticipating love

summary: sometimes the only way up is backwards.

contains: childhood friends to lovers to strangers, second-chance romance, angst, hurt/comfort, slight miscommunication, fluff, 18+ series, mentions of stalking, mentions of cancer, no mention of y/n

authors note: i think i rewrote this like four times. editing this one was so difficult bc i was never satisfied, i'm not used to writing dialogue and all of it felt unnatural </3. for this chapter, i was listening to home by danny knutelsky... i'm not sure if you can tell that was the vibe i was writing with... enjoy!

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05. a secret place to hide

"You can live your life, you know?" Your mother's hand caressed your hair as you laid in her lap. Since the last time Bradley visited you’d avoided him, holing up in your room or Hard Deck during it’s off-hours. You found yourself taking advantage of the sights San Diego had to offer if it meant avoiding him. Your run-in with Bradley had seemingly shaken you up more than you thought. 

You pushed yourself up, leaning on her shoulder as you watched a movie. 

"I am living my life, though?" You riposte. 

She gave you a look and sighed, surrendering to you, “Look, Penny called. She needs help working tonight. Would you please give her a hand?” 

You narrowed your eyes at your mother. You knew her like the back of your hand and you could sniff a scheme out. “Did you hear the conversation I had with Bradley the other night?” 

She held her breath for a second in deep thought. 

Before she sighed, “Yeah I did.” 

You groaned, throwing your head back on the couch. You’d been found out. 

“Only a little bit! I didn’t hear a lot, just you scolding him.” 

“Does Penny actually need help at the bar or is this just another scheme?” You raised a brow at her. 

“She actually did call for help. Her server called out sick last minute and tonight a ship is docking.” 

You stared. “Why does this feel familiar?”

“You know we can’t schedule when the fleet comes in.”

“There’s a ‘but’ at the end of that sentence.” 

Your mother and Penny had always been team Bradley Bradshaw; they even placed bets on when you'd be married. The worst part? They weren't wrong. You'd done everything but date, including sharing every first with each other. 

“Neither of us can guarantee Bradley won’t be there tonight. So you might have to break the cold war you have going on.” 

“Might?” 

“You weren’t hiding it, you were avoiding him. I’ve never seen you drive yourself around this much.” She laughed at you, slightly coughing at the end. 

She turned to face you, "You should talk to him..." She said softly, leaning her tired body on the couch as you faced each other. 

"I don't want to. Not with…" You looked away from her, "Not with everything going on." She sighed before smacking you on the arm. You yelped as you tried to soothe the pain away. Glaring at her as she smiled. 

"Do I look like I'm dead yet? You might as well lay me in the coffin with your attitude. I can still smack some sense into you." She guffawed, you joining her laughing fit soon after. 

“I’m not saying to talk to him tonight. With the boat docking his detachment might not even be there, but your aunt has managed to run a very successful bar. You’re in his territory, there’s always a risk.”

“Oh risk my ass, North Island isn’t that small Mom.” You huffed, you both laughing. 

You thought about it for a second. It seemed like a very loose scheme, one where they’re placing bets on Bradley being there tonight. Your mother wouldn’t throw you into anything that made you genuinely uncomfortable, but she is more than willing to give you a push. 

“Just one ship docking?”

“God I hope. Anyone who isn’t married is gonna be bar hopping once they get their land legs back.” 

“I’ll go help her. I’ll call her on my way down there.” 

She nodded looking at the TV and sinking in the couch. The chemo had taken its toll this time, her breathing a little faster, her body a little smaller, but she was fighting. “Are you sure you won't need me tonight?” 

She looked back up at you, “Your father will be home in a couple of hours, by the time you leave I’ll be in the kitchen scolding him into how to make proper lasagna.” You smiled at her. “He must be so excited.”

“He doesn’t even know yet.” 

The sun hung slightly above you, finally coming down into the view but not quite evening yet. Penny had stopped by to pick you up suggesting that you could spend the night at her place anyway. 

You took a deep breath and sat in the passenger seat before you could talk yourself out of this. 

“I’ll man the bars, you dish out the drinks?” Penny’s voice pulled your attention, her hands around the steering wheel. 

“I’m much better at customer service anyway.” You told her with a grin. She reached over and pinched you lightly on your side. 

“I do appreciate the help. I don’t know what it is but this must be the third time I’ve asked you to help on boat night,” 

“Fourth Pen.” You interjected, she continued anyway. 

“Details details…,” She waved her hand at you, “You're the best waitress I’ve had.”  You chuckled to yourself and leaned your head on the window. 

She was quiet for a few moments before asking you, “So, your mom and Simpson worked things out again?” 

She was prodding lightly. She was always weary of navy men and had never fully trusted your father. 

Your parents had never fallen out of love, but when they separated your father was busy climbing ranks. The constant time apart and they didn’t know how to live with each other anymore. Besides the issue of neglecting his family, your father wasn’t very affectionate and no matter how hard your mother fought, he was stubborn and a straight shot. He was blinded until he got what he set out for. 

What made him a great pilot made him a horrible husband and father. 

You shrugged at Penny, “I’m not sure. I think mom’s cancer plays a part in how normal they’re being. I can’t say though. You probably know more than me.” 

“Hmmm. But you live with them, you see more.” 

“I do, but…you know Dad’s never been the one to have a range of emotions.” 

Penny let out an airy laugh. “You’re right about that hon. That man is a piece of concrete if I’ve ever seen one. A true military man.” 

She sighed, pulling in front of the bar. You both crawled out, the Hard Deck loomed over you two. The building seemed twice its size and you’d need the room for tonight. 

“Alright, one boat docked, and maybe the usual crowd. Did your mom warn you about tonight?”

You nodded. “She warned me about the boat and about Bradley.” 

Penny smiled brightly. “Perfect. I can prepare you for mermen, but I can’t prepare you for a Bradshaw.” 

You shooed her away as the first bar patrons came in. Settling in a booth and flagging you over. 

You looked at Penny, and she looked at you. Both nodded at each other as the sun sunk lower into the skyline. 

One thing about the Hard Deck, it was only open after 5:30 pm. Not a minute sooner and not a minute later. The first thirty or so minutes were quiet. 

Until a group of shored fish popped in. Once you saw the first group you knew more were sure to follow. The sun had set and you had been running around the bar all night. As the shift went on, you realized you hadn’t seen Bradley’s detachment. 

There was a solid chance they wouldn’t be here tonight with how crowded it was and their training. 

“Penny, two whiskey sours and a craft beer please.” 

“Coming right up darling.” 

You leaned on the bar a bit, standing between two empty stools and letting your body sag. You hadn’t played waitress like this since your last restaurant job. You caught your breath for a second before Penny plopped three drinks in front of you. 

“Do you need your break?” 

You shook your head no. The buzz from keeping busy kept your mind so preoccupied you didn’t have time to think about anything else. 

“I’ll let you know when Penn.”

She nodded at you and served a couple more beers to the guys waiting. 

Dancing through the crowd kept you on your toes. Time had passed that threshold where most people weren’t worried about decorum or balance. No matter how alert you were, someone always caught you off guard. 

A bar-goer stepped back into your space, catching your shoe and you braced yourself as you tried to regain your balance. A couple more stumbles pulled your weight to the side, your gravity off balance and the tray going with the momentum. 

Until two arms engulfed your frame. 

Gently, they pulled you upright, one hand jutting out to grab the tray out of your hands. As you righted yourself, you noted said hand lingering lightly on your waist, “You alright?” Bradley leaned down to ask you. 

Him and his darn height.

“I’m good Bradshaw.” You fixed your shirt and readjusted your apron. One deep breath in and you went to grab the tray of drinks. They had only slightly spilled. Hopefully, they’d be too drunk to notice. You’d give them a 10% off when you closed their tabs out. 

“You sure?” He asked, turning the tray away from you. 

You huffed at him. “Yes, I am sure. I promise.” 

His eyebrows rose and gently he set the tray back into your hands. “Careful bugs.” You nodded once more before carrying on for the night. 

You could feel his eyes on you the rest of your shift, didn’t matter where you went in the bar or where you went into the crowd. Bradley’s eyes found you with ease. 

“You talk to Bradshaw tonight?” Penny asked, eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“Somehow, this all feels a little familiar…” You gave her a small side-eye. 

“Aye, I’m not letting you off the hook this time. I’m paying you to work the whole shift.” 

“Okay okay… I’m not gonna run away just because he looked at me.” 

“I know you won’t, you would’ve ran as soon as he walked in here.” The side of her mouth twitched. “You also don’t have your car.” 

Reminded of your shameful past, you took your restocked tray and carried on for the night. 

Bradley nursed his drink until his group was ready to leave, pulling away from them and promising he’d see them tomorrow. He set his eyes on you. Your chest slightly rising and falling from exhaustion, your bangs framing your face, and a couple of other strands out of place.

You could feel his warmth and he pulled up on your side. 

The bar had quieted significantly, the majority of the group's bar hopping elsewhere or down at the beach. 

He sat on the stool and watched you silently. You didn’t make a move to speak to him, trying to close the register and get the last of the tabs shut out. His watching you didn’t make you uncomfortable. Did you want to face him after the heart-to-heart?

Yes, but also… absolutely not. The feelings that were crawling themselves out of their graves were overwhelming and you didn’t want them pouring out again. 

“You finish up that last tab, I can check out the rest,” Penny said from behind you. 

“Are you sure? I’m already doing it.” 

“I’m sure.” She nodded at Bradley, “I might be a little late closing, think you could give her a ride Bradshaw?” 

The scheming commenced. 

“It’d be my pleasure.” His grin lopsided. 

Him and his darn grin. 

“I’m staying at your place tonight? I even promised Amelia.” 

“I never said you were going home. Just might get there a little earlier than me.” She smiled slyly, testing the waters that were you and Bradshaw. “‘Sides, I wouldn’t come between a promise between you and Amelia. Strong-headed that one, I wouldn't dare.” 

You huffed, “Alright, this register is checked out,” You looked at Penny, “I'll do the final count.” 

Turning to Bradley, silence suspended between you both, Bradley smiling lightly while looking at you. 

"Got a starin' problem?" You jested. 

He smirked at you, "If I do?" Your eyes narrowed as he laughed. 

"Don't mind me taking in the view." He grinned, a slight flush on his ears, "You're dressed real purtty' tonight." He added with a mock southern accent. 

Your face ran hot again. The tips of your ears bloomed red as blood rushed to your face. Bradley looked at you again, reaching for your bags and throwing them on his shoulder. "How have you been?" He inquired, holding the door open for you as you walked. You weren't sure what to answer; how had you been? With everything going on, you hadn't had time to process it all. 

"Alright?" You trailed off. "As good as I can be." You said sardonically. He read your body language, deciding not to prod any further. "And you?" You questioned back. The awkwardness finally settled in. His shoulders tensed. "About the same." He stilled. You watched him fidget with his lip, something he did when he wasn't sure what to do. "About back then..." He started. This time, you didn't stop him. 

“I meant it when I said I’ll come to you. This time, let me do the heavy lifting.” “Bradley, what does that even mean?” 

“It means I’ve seen a future with you for years and always ran away out of fear. We’ve waited for ‘later’ to come for years, I’ve waited for years. When you’re ready, whenever that is, I’ll be here.” He paused for a breath, opening the car door for you and leaning on the frame of the car, “I was the one who left…I think it’s only fair that this time I come to you.” Your breath hitched as you regarded his hazel eyes, firm in resolve. It almost sent you stumbling. 

After a few beats of silence, he ushered you in the car. Climbing into the driver seat and starting the engine, pausing for another moment, “Do you know Penny’s address?” 

Your belly laugh ran out in the cabin of the car. Watching as his ears tinged pink. 

“Wasn’t the best ending to a confession of love was it?” 

“No…” You teetered off, “But it was very you.” 

He frowned, “I don’t think I’m starting off very strong here.”

“Maybe not, but you Bradley Bradshaw are the one I’ve chosen over and over again, you and all your fumbles,” You leaned over the center console of the Bronco, “I’ll tell you what Bradshaw, sweep me off my feet one more time and I’ll be yours forever.” You kissed his cheek tenderly. 

The back of his hand grazed your cheek and you leaned into it. “I know we have a lot to work out, but I don’t want to fight it anymore, you’re here…and that’s more than I ever had of you before.” He flinched. 

“They're gonna have to pull my teeth out if they try and ship me off anywhere where you aren’t.” You laughed again. 

“I’ll let you come to me this time.” You kissed his knuckles. “You were always best for me, Bradshaw.” 

Bradley leaned in and kissed your forehead, lingering there for a few seconds, “This time, I’ll make sure I’m the best I can be for you. I promise Bugs.” 

You two pulled apart for a couple seconds before you registered the sound of the engine, “Do I need to type in the address?” 

Bradley groaned.

[randomprose]

missed calls and white cosmos

[ao3] - set during chapter 452 Guan Shan will never say it, because he’s a lot less brave than He Tian is, but he hopes He Tian knows he feels the same way.

Mo Guan Shan will be the first to admit that he tends to get absorbed in his work. He can’t help it. It’s a job that he actually enjoys, pays ridiculously really well, and lets him express his artistic side. Of course, he’d get bouts of hyperfixation.

He really didn’t mean to blow off He Tian and he really did intend to call when he’s done. It’s just that he got done late. Really late. And on a night when He Tian said he had some good news to share too.

‘Ah, shit,’ Mo Guan Shan thinks, sighing to himself. ‘He’s gonna throw a bitchfit. I just know it.’

10 missed calls and 20 messages though, really?

He doesn’t bother going through each of them now as he hurriedly dresses himself while trying to ring back He Tian.

“C’mon, chicken dick pick up,” Guan Shan mutters, cursing when he nearly busts his nose on the floor as he hastily changes out of his overalls and into his pants. “I know you know I’m calling, asshole. Fucking pick up already.”

‘sorry. late. where r u?’ he types with one hand as he shoves his feet into his sneakers.

“Fuck,” Guan Shan growls as he revs the engine of his scooter. In his head, he’s frantically thinking of a way to make it up to He Tian but he’s drawing up blank. In the years he’s known He Tian ignoring him is just about the worst thing you could do to him.

He passes by a flower shop and thinks about buying a bouquet but his skin is not thick enough to carry one around while he’s on his Vespa trying to find a stupidly unresponsive He Tian. He knows it’s probably the kind of gesture He Tian will be surprised at coming from him, would likely get him instantly forgiven for being late and not checking his phone just because He Tian is easy like that when it comes to him for some reason, but it seems so insincere and very obviously pandering and Mo Guan Shan does not do insincere or pandering, especially not with He Tian.

Instead, he stops by the road when he sees something that catches his eye. He plucks a single stem of white cosmos from the plotted plants on the sidewalk because it reminds him of He Tian. He tucks it in his pocket, careful not to squish it as he cruises the streets to find his no-doubt sulking boyfriend.

Blessedly, he finds him soon enough by the bridge near the restaurant they agreed to meet. He’s leaning on his parked car and even from the distance Guan Shan can feel his bad mood, can just imagine the pout on his face and the tantrum he’s gonna throw. 

“Hey, there you are. How long have you been waiting? Have you eaten?” Guan Shan prods even though he already knows He Tian has been waiting for him for three hours and he likely hasn’t eaten because he’s always hated eating alone.

Silence. Mo Guan Shan tries a different tactic.

“You look pretty handsome in that suit.” The compliment comes easily to him because it’s the truth. He Tian really does look handsome in his suit which is why it makes Guan Shan all the more sorry and the guilt in his gut much heavier that he didn’t come to meet him sooner. “Say something. I really was busy.”

Mo Guan Shan has long shaken off the habit of ignoring He Tian. How could he when the man is so stubbornly persistent in making sure Mo Guan Shan’s thoughts are never devoid of him? Not for long anyway. And it’s not like Mo Guan Shan has ever had any success in keeping his thoughts free of He Tian either.

Yet right now He Tian is making a valiant attempt at ignoring him and Mo Guan Shan finds that he does not care for it. He does not care for it at all.

‘Fuck. He’s even giving me attitude.’ Mo Guan Shan can’t help it. He’s so irritated his hand comes up on its own to snatch at the cigarette dangling from He Tian’s lips because he knows for a fact he’ll hate it.

Except He Tian unexpectedly turns to him, thin eyebrows drawn down into a frown, eyes full of annoyance and a touch of anger.

‘Fuck me. This handsome face,’ Mo Guan Shan furiously thinks even as he appreciates the view. ‘I swear to god your stupidly handsome mug is gonna be the death of me one day. Fuck!’

“You…really forgot about me?” He Tian finally speaks and Mo Guan Shan blushes at the slight whine in his voice and the almost imperceptible pout on his lips even as the bastard blows smoke directly at his face.

Guan Shan coughs and pulls back as He Tian turns away from him again, still sulking. He digs into his pocket for his peace offering, wincing slightly when he sees that it’s wilted and bent in the bud but still offers it in all sincerity.

“He Tian…” Guan Shan holds the small flower up and it immediately catches He Tian’s eyes. “Don’t be mad…okay?”

The crease in He Tian’s brow vanishes and an arm reaches out to pull Guan Shan by the waist. Guan Shan easily goes, wanting to be close the moment he found He Tian. His hand fists at Guan Shan’s shirt as if he’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold tight so he wounds an arm around He Tian’s shoulder and leans down to plant a featherlight kiss on his temple, an apology and an assurance in a single gesture.

“Fine…” He Tian sighs, sagging against Mo Guan Shan in what feels like surrender. “It’s my fault I can’t live without you.”

Mo Guan Shan will never say it, because he’s a lot less brave than He Tian is, but he hopes He Tian knows he feels the same way.

[robinsegghead]

Danny's Daycare Part 3

        [Master List]

Danny sighed, picking up the last of the toys and dusting his hands off. Today had been an all-time max of six kids. Ember had been a lifesaver (ha) taking over the majority of tasks for the day, knowing he wasn’t mentally present. Lunch Lady had stepped up as well, playing with the kids Ember didn’t have her eyes on and letting Danny take as many breaks as he needed.

            He felt ridiculous. He barely knew the man, he shouldn’t be so shaken.

            Trying to focus on something else, he thought about the recent growth of the daycare. He had known from the beginning that if the daycare was successful he’d need to hire help, but he hadn’t thought about it much more than that. With his duplicates and Ember and the Lunch Lady’s help he had a handle. Dora worked more in the background, helping Danny with paperwork and purchasing supplies (mostly clothes) for the kids. Some of the other ghosts who’d originally offered their help had gotten caught up in other things (read; obsessions) and hadn’t been around.

            It was fine.

            Hiring help was going to be even more difficult with Ember and Lunch Lady around, anyone he hired would have questions about their appearances. As it was, the parents were already getting confused about why they’d never met the other staff at the daycare.

            He hadn’t taken a day off since opening the daycare and while hiring someone who would actually help was tempting, it wasn’t likely. He didn’t have any applicants as of yet and most of the parents didn’t have kids looking for part time work as a childcare worker. He was here to help those who already had jobs keep said jobs. Between the daycare, the realms, Jazz, his friends, and Gotham University asking if he’d like to teach some engineering classes, Danny was entirely booked. He didn’t have time to vet new employees.

            It had been two weeks since he’d managed to do brunch with Jazz.

            All he wanted to do was pass out in bed and enjoy that tomorrow was Saturday, and he could sleep in before going to the realms. But tonight he was supposed to bring Mrs. Bianchi’s family dinner. He grimaced, remembering the man he’d saved a few weeks prior and offered a job when he got out of the hospital. The man who’d gratefully accepted the offer and planned on building the fence for Danny’s Daycare. The man who apparently had enemies that sought him out the moment he left the safety of his own home.

            Although it wasn’t uncommon, not everyone was so understanding of those who became goons. Mrs. Bianchi was struggling to keep her and her family together. Her daughter, Allegra, had been a regular face at his daycare every day since he’d gotten the call and after hearing about her father, he’d offered to bring them dinner to help out. It took a lot of convincing, but finally, she’d allowed it.

            So, no break tonight. But that was alright.

            The Bianchi’s needed a break more than he did.

            And he needed to help.

            His apartment was, thankfully, very close by, and he’d already prepared the casserole ahead of time. They would only need to throw it in the oven for twenty minutes to warm it up, but he wanted to do something extra nice, something that showed he was thinking about them. An hour later, with a casserole and a plate of fresh cookies in hand, Danny made his way to the Bianchi’s.

            “Mr. Nightingale!” A voice called out warmly. He paused, a short way from the front door, looking for the voice. A dark-haired woman was crouched by the front garden, herbs in hand. “I’m Mia, mama said you’d be coming by.”

            Returning her smile, he nodded. “Hi Mia, you can call me Danny. I brought dinner?” She nodded towards the door and led him inside.

            The home was warm and welcoming, knick knacks and tchotchkes decorated every surface and wall, family pictures sat among them, it was a beautiful home. Not that he knew what a home was supposed to feel or look like. 

            Mia led him into the kitchen and directed him to place the goodies he’d brought on the stovetop. Just as he’d set down the containers of food, a small body crashed into his legs, he managed to keep his balance.

            “’Llegra!” Mia shouted. “Sorry Mr.- Danny.”

            Danny crouched down to speak with Allegra, tell her hello and ask how she was doing, but she immediately crawled into his arms and wrapped her own around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder.

            “Allegra, that is-” Mia started, sounding tired.

            “It’s okay.” Danny stood up, the girl held close in his arms. He didn’t mention the wet spot on his shoulder. “I’m sure little miss Allegra just wanted to say hello.” He rubbed her back soothingly. “Is your mother home?” He asked, hoping he sounded older than he was. He wanted to sound like a grownup- an adult who knew what he was doing. Not some kid with a surplus of wealth and a gung-ho attitude.

            Mia hesitated a moment, still looking like she wanted to make Allegra get down but decided better of it. “She’s this way.”

            Carrying Allegra, Danny followed the older girl. The two sisters looked a lot alike with dark wavy hair, thick eyebrows, and strong cheekbones and it was clear Mia felt close with Allegra. Why did Danny keep running into siblings who reminded him of his and Jazz’s relationship? Not every sibling duo is the same as his!

            In the living room he found a woman who looked exactly like Mia, or he supposed, the other way around, just a bit older. There were gray hairs in her raven black hair and laugh lines and crow’s feet adorning her face. She was still beautiful. She was going through a pile of photos with a sad look on her face. She looked up as they walked into the room and masked her pain. He knew that feeling all too well.

            “Mrs. Bianchi, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” He shifted the squirming child in his arms. “The casserole just needs to be reheated and I made brownies.”

            Mrs. Bianchi gave her daughter a look. Mia gently pulled Allegra out of Danny’s arms and left. Danny wanted to ask what that was about but gave the woman time to arrange her thoughts. “I didn’t trust you.” She started. “My Victor told me… you’d offered him a job. I’d heard that before and it ended with him getting shot in an alleyway.”

            She let out a shuddering breath, placing her fingers on a picture of what he could only assume was her late husband. “But what would a scumbag have to gain from saving a dying stranger in an alleyway?" Her voice was almost a whisper. “He insisted on trusting you and I trusted him.”

            “I’m so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Bianchi. I- I don’t know what you’re going through but… I’d like to help in any way that I can. If you’ll let me.” He understood pain he understood pain she’d never understand but he had no idea what losing your spouse was like. He’d never lost anyone to death, not like this.

            Her eyes pierced his, he tried not to fidget as she peered into his soul. “Maybe he was right to trust you Mr. Nightingale.” She stood, putting the pictures aside. “Thank you for looking after Allegra, I believe you’ll be seeing more of her for a while yet. And,” She paused. “I believe you’ll see an influx in children in the coming days.”

            He wasn’t sure what she meant, but didn’t ask as he was shown outside soon after.

~~~

            Exhaustion was a feeling Danny was getting used to. To be completely frank, he’d been getting used to the feeling since he was a child, and his parents Jack and Maddie forgot his seventh birthday because they’d gotten the idea to create a ghost portal. That was more of a mental and emotional exhaustion but when he was fourteen and died because of said ghost portal… that was a physical exhaustion.

            Still, he wasn’t sure the last time he’d felt this bone deep exhaustion in his human form. He remembered the last time he’d felt this way in his ghost form he remembered the feeling of the blade slipping under his skin he remembered the taunts Jack and Maddie threw at him as he cried and screamed he remembered dissociating to save himself from-

            “Hey, why don’t you move away from the edge?”

            Seriously, how were so many people sneaking up on Danny these days? First Tim, then Damian, now this guy?! Looking up (Or maybe it was down? Danny was on his back so the man in front of him appeared to be upside down) Danny recognized Nightwing and sighed. He’d been so clear with the others about not running into vigilantes, and now here he was… running into one of them.

            Hey, at least it was one of the supposedly nicer ones.

            “I’m not gonna jump man.” Danny groaned. “Too tired anyways.”

            Gravel crunched under the vigilante’s feet as he approached. “I’d still feel a lot more comfortable if you weren’t one careless move away from becoming a pancake.”

            Danny chuckled. “Your comfort isn’t exactly my concern.” Nightwing came into view, frowning. “Don’t look at me like that, man. You’ll make me feel bad.”

            “Well we wouldn’t want that.” His tone was sarcastic, and his frown had turned into a smirk. “If my discomfort isn’t your concern why should your happiness be mine?”

            The halfa stifled a laugh. “Aren’t you supposed to be a hero or something?”

            “Vigilante.” Nightwing amended.

            “Same difference.”

            Nightwing crouched beside Danny, watching him like a hawk. It was uncomfortable. The angle Nightwing was watching him from while Danny was lying on his back reminded him of-

            Bolting upright, Danny shifted away from the edge and Nightwing simultaneously; the vigilante watched him with confusion, reaching out to help until he realized Danny was hyperventilating. “Hey- hey, hey, breathe with me, okay? In,” He took in an exaggerated breath. “Out.” He exhaled loudly and repeated the action a few times.

            Danny evened out his breathing easily (he didn’t need to breathe so it wasn’t difficult once his brain remembered that fact) and leaned against the HVAC behind him. “Sorry.” He managed, embarrassed, looking out towards the city.

            The vigilante watched him for another minute before fully sitting down and following Danny’s gaze. “So what are you doing up here?”

            “I like heights, needed a good view after the last few weeks.” They lapsed into comfortable silence after that, though Danny was sure Nightwing was planning on asking a few more questions. He’d enjoy the silence for now.

            The city was much louder than Amity on its loudest night and he couldn’t say he loved the sounds, but he loved that it sounded nothing like his hometown. His hometown that sounded like silence and willing ignorance and purposeful arrogance and bigotry. His feelings towards Amity were mixed but mostly leaned towards ‘would only visit again if it were a matter of life and death’ (and even then he might not because he was already alive and dead).

            Gotham’s least desirable feature was the smog that blocked out the night sky. It had been too long since Danny had been able to see the clear night sky, trace the constellations with his eyes, and calm his breathing while reciting facts about space. Lady Gotham was going to owe him big time after all this was done.

            “Where are you from?” Nightwing asked, settling on one of the most boring questions he could have asked.

            Danny rolled his eyes. “What an original question, Nightwing. I’m assuming my accent gave it away?” The vigilante nodded. “Illinois.” He had no intention of mentioning Amity Park to anyone in Gotham. Tucker had given Danny and his sister new identities after the Incident, and he had promised no one would be able to figure out who they had been before. Danny tended to trust Tucker’s abilities, but when it came to Amity Park, the Fenton’s, the GIW, and ghosts, he leaned towards paranoid. Plus, the birds and bats were notorious for getting whatever information they wanted.

            “Why on Earth would you move to Gotham?” Nightwing laughed.

            “Someone asked for my help.” Danny admitted. “I can’t say no when someone wants help so… here I am.”

            Nightwing nodded, knowingly. “And what do you do?”

            “Opened a daycare in the Bowery.” The vigilante’s eyebrows lifted, surprised. “The friend who wanted my help has a friend who…. well they’re very rich and it’s entirely free. I just run things, make sure parents are able to go to work without leaving their kids home alone.” Danny shrugged.

            “That sounds really helpful.” Nightwing smiled. “So the exhaustion..?”

            “Oh yeah, kids are a nightmare. Not something I ever thought I’d do, but I’m good with them- I had a really good example of what not to do.” He chuckled bitterly earning a frown from the vigilante, but he didn’t notice it. “Even with how exhausting they are… they’re good kids. Like, Marco, he told me his dad used to leave him home alone while he was at work- the kids five! But his poor dad could either quit his job, leave his kid home alone, or turn to gooning. So…. Daycare.”

            Nightwing’s smile had only grown through Danny’s little rant. “I’m sure Marco and his dad are both grateful to you.”

            Danny stood, dusting his pants. “They should be grateful to the person who asked for my help, I’m not doing all that much myself, wouldn’t have even thought to do it if they hadn’t asked. You on the other hand, you guys do a lot for this city. No one asked, and I’m sure people don’t always thank you.” He offered the vigilante a hand and pulled him up.

            Now, Danny was pretty confident in his appearance, but when Nightwing stood up straight Danny was once again reminded that he was only 5’6”. Nightwing was clearly half a foot (or more) taller, and it was…. Well it was annoying. Pushing down that observation, Danny turned towards the rooftop exit door. “I’ll see you around, Nightwing.”

            “Hey, wait-”

            But Danny really didn’t want the birds and bats getting too close to him, so he let the door swing closed behind him, turned invisible, and flew back to his apartment.

            He was really tired.

~~~

            Danny woke to a crying sound. It took him a full panic-stricken thirty seconds to remember the kittens he’d taken in and relax marginally. He’d been giving the sick on its medicine, feeding them on a schedule, scooping the litter, and everything else he thought he was supposed to do, but he’d been busy and hadn’t gotten around to spending much time with them.

            Or naming them.

            Ancients dammit Danny!

            Rolling out of bed, Danny followed the crying sound coming from the living room. Mama cat was sitting on the couch cleaning herself, and the three little kittens were trying to find a way to follow her up. She clearly wasn’t interested in helping them.

            Dropping down next to them, Danny held out his hand. The orange kitten -despite being sick and making little wheezing sounds at all times- was clinging to the side of the couch a few inches off of the ground and crying for help. Gently, Danny cupped his hands around the little cat’s body and pulled him away from the couch.

            “Hey little guy, curiosity killed the cat, so I’d be careful if I were you.” He held the kitten close and scratched under his chin. He nipped at Danny’s finger and twisted his body to escape, only Danny’s quick reflexes kept the kitten from falling to the floor. “Woooah there! Curious little guy aren’t you?”

            He set the orange kitten down and noticed the calico had disappeared. Looking around frantically, he found her on the opposite side of his apartment, (seemingly) looking out the balcony door. “How’d you get all the way over there?” He chuckled, following the kitten and looking out the door. “You can’t really see the stars in Gotham.” She meowed in response.

            After a few moments of staring out into the starless sky, Danny noticed the calico toddle away from him. It seemed Mama had decided she’d had enough time to herself and had jumped back down into the reach of her children. The kittens barreled into her; she laid down so they could nurse, and Danny watched, an idea coming to him.

            He felt the need to make their names official, so he found a website that made custom nametags for pets and put in his order. Instead of putting away his phone he snapped a picture of the cats and sent it to his newest contact.

Danny: Thank you again for all of your help the other night, Damian!

Danny: [Image of three kittens nestled into their mother’s belly]

Danny: I decided on names for them. The orange cat is Curiosity (like the mars rover lol), the Calico is Cosmos, and the white one is Spectre. Mama cat is Mars but I’m gonna call her Marzipan!

Danny: This is Danny by the way.

~~~

            Damian couldn’t fathom who was messaging him at this time of night, but he wished they would stop. Father kept looking at him strangely from the batcomputer every time his phone vibrated. They’d called it an early night due to father still recovering from an injury and Damian having a test in his first class the following morning. Damian had just finished taking his gear off and was planning on hitting the showers just as his phone began buzzing.

            Father quirked an eyebrow at him as he swiped his phone away. “I’m sure it is Grayson spamming the family group chat with meaningless memes again.” He explained nonchalantly.

            It was not, in fact, Grayson.

Unknown: Thank you again for all of your help the other night, Damian!

Unknown: [Image of three kittens nestled into their mother’s belly]

Unknown: I decided on names for them. The orange cat is Curiosity (like the mars rover lol), the Calico is Cosmos, and the white one is Spectre. Mama cat is Mars but I’m gonna call her Marzipan!

Unknown: This is Danny by the way

            Damian had not given that fool his number to be spammed with useless information- what kind of name was curiosity? Why were they all seemingly space themed? Despite his annoyance, Damian responded.

Damian: How is the sick one healing?

            He didn’t expect a quick response, it was almost four in the morning, why had the man been up so early anyways? He got a response almost immediately.

Unknown: Curiosity’s healing pretty well although he hates the medicine and it’s a battle every time I have to give it to him!

Damian: That is unacceptable. Fighting a sick cat will not contribute to its healing.

Unknown: He hasn’t missed a dose or anything, he just squirms a lot! 

Damian: Do you require assistance?

            Damian refused to change the man’s name in his phone until he knew his last name. He would not be calling him…. Danny. Unfortunately, Damian was only a volunteer at the vet clinic and as such had not been privy to any of Danny’s personal information and therefore, did not know his last name. It felt strange to ask for it.

Unknown: Nah it’s fine, just wanted to show you they’re doing all right and I appreciate you helping me figure this all out!

            He did not feel a spike of happiness shoot through him- that would be ridiculous. Something this simple from a complete stranger, albeit a strange who listened to all of his advice and took him seriously when others never did, would not make him happy!

Damian: I could not let someone completely untrained take care of animals, especially when one was sick.

Unknown: :’) You do care

            “Damian?” Father’s voice cut into his thoughts. Looking up he realized he’d stopped short of the shower room and had ended up having the entire conversation over text in the entryway between the main cave and the showers. Father raised an eyebrow, glancing between his son and the phone. “Is everything all right?”

            He nodded sharply, turning off the phone and pushing away the ridiculous feelings he’d been having. “I’m fine father. I’ll just shower and head to bed for the night.” He didn’t bother looking at his phone again for the rest of the night.

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[agaypanic]

i just need more vamp! reader x ethan morgan /preferably hc's (you choose the plot)

Ethan Morgan With a Vampire S/O Headcanons

Masterlist

Request Something!

***

I’ve said this before, but he’s cautious about your teeth being near him

Specifically, your fangs near a bloodstream

He’s scared you’ll either drink him dry or turn him

Usually, you’re good about keeping them in around him, but sometimes, they just come out

Especially since, canonically, Ethan has really good blood

You and Ethan had been studying in his room for a few hours. Well, he was studying. You decided to just sit on his lap and accompany him, okay with risking that you’d probably be doing a frantic study session the night before a test. Ethan had stopped trying to get you to study with him, learning to just be content with the fact that you were spending time with him.

One hand was planted on your hip, keeping you steady in your place, while the other turned the pages in his textbook. Every time he reached to turn a page, he’d kiss your cheek or forehead.

Somehow, Ethan cut his finger while lifting the page he was on, and you stiffened. 

Ethan looked at you, soon becoming scared at the sight of your fangs and yellow eyes. Usually, he thought you looked cool. But then again, your fangs usually showed when you were fighting a bad guy of the week, not when you were staring at your boyfriend.

“Uhhh, Y/n?” His voice shook you out of your bloodlusting trance, and you slapped a hand over your nose and mouth, scrambling off of his lap.

“Oh my gosh, Ethan, I’m so sorry.” You both seemed shaken up at this moment. You were genuinely thinking about taking some of Ethan’s blood as soon as the delicious scent hit your nostrils. 

And by the look on Ethan’s face, it seemed like he knew it.

“It’s okay,” he said reassuringly, but he still stood up and moved out of the room cautiously. “You stay here; I’ll go clean this up.” 

Yeah, sometimes things get a lil rough

But usually, you and Ethan have a great time together

If you have to hunt at night, he likes to go with you

He won’t look because he’d probably throw up or something

But he likes spending time with you and doesn’t want you getting hurt or anything

Even though he knows you can take care of yourself

“Okay, I’m gonna grab a bite to eat.” You stood from the park bench you and Ethan were sitting on. It was about eleven at night, so the place was empty except for you two and wildlife. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be here.” Ethan smiled up at you. You kissed him briefly before speeding off, hoping to find something filling.

Although he never accompanied you during the main part of your excursions, Ethan liked to come with you when you had to hunt at night. It was nice to spend some time together away from everyone else.

Ethan only had to wait a few minutes before you returned. You sat down next to him, sighing in satisfaction.

“That was fast,” Ethan commented. 

“Yeah, I found a pack of squirrels.” Despite the situation, Ethan laughed. He threw his arm over your shoulders and looked down at you.

“Oh!” He moved his head back a bit in surprise, looking at your mouth. “You got a lil something there.” He pointed to the corner of his mouth, mirroring the spot where you had a smudge of blood. You wiped at your mouth and, after seeing the red, licked it off your finger. Ethan shuddered but still held you close. “Okay, then.”

I feel like Ethan would eventually want to be turned

Kinda think that death and dying scare him a bit

Plus, he hates the thought of you outliving him since you’ll live forever

It takes a bunch of convincing on both sides before you actually do it tho

“Ethan, are you sure you’ve really thought about this?” You asked, staring up at his ceiling as the two of you lay on his bed. “I mean, once I do it, there’s no going back. The chances of there being a cure are slim to none.”

“I know.” He sighed. “But I’m sure.”

“A hundred percent sure?”

“Yeah.” Ethan turned his head to look at you, just to see that you were already looking at him. “And besides, we agreed to do it after graduation. So if I’m suddenly not completely sure, I have a few months to say so.” He reached down to grab your hand, giving it a tight squeeze. “I’m not gonna change my mind, though. I don’t wanna lose you.”

“I don’t wanna lose you either.” You said softly.

You turned onto your side, shifting so you were pressed into Ethan’s side. He let go of your hand to wrap his arm around your body, keeping you close.

“Just a few more months.” He said before kissing you.

“And then forever.” You replied once you broke apart.

[magicjesuscup]

I have feelings towards solo-romanced Halsin's ending/epilogue.

Halsin and Tav celebrate all night, and in the morning Halsin starts throwing out mixed signals. He's leaving to take care of the kids that were orphaned after the netherbrain fight and doesn't give any indication that he wants Tav to go with him, but it also doesn't sound like his feelings for Tav have changed.

I would've been (1) confused by the lack of an option to go with him, (2) hurt because this sounds like a break-up speech (like a "we shouldn't be together anymore, but let's stay friends" type thing), and (3) concerned that something's wrong because he's otherwise been a very good communicator up until this point.

It looks like originally going with him wasn't even an option (which was a weird choice to offer him as a love interest, but not give players a way to stay with him at the end of the game), and when that was patched in, they did it in the meanest way they could. Tav's line is:

Visit as soon as I can? Don't be an ass, Halsin. I'll come with you right now.

Oof. I wouldn't talk to my lover like this, and I don't know that I'd stay with someone who talked to me like that. I also want to note that I think you only get the cute, bragging "I love Halsin" lines to say to the other companions at the party if you call him an ass here first. Thanks, I hate it. I wish it was something more along the lines of:

Why can't I go with you?

Either option could've led to (most) of Halsin's dialog that followed.

But what about all that you'll miss out on? Your name will be feted in this city - there will be parades, medals, feasts, hands to be shaken, babies to be kissed…are you truly sure.

I know in the epilogue he's still surprised Tav chose him, and I'm trying to figure out why, and why he didn't throw out Tav accompanying him as an option. I get that a lot of people he loved/cared about didn't stay in life, but none of them left him voluntarily. His parents, the archdruid before him, and his peers died to either illness or the shadow curse. Thaniel's absence is only temporary if you lift the shadow curse, and the only reason he "left" in the first place was because he was trapped by the curse.

It would've made way more sense to me if he had a little freak out after falling in love with Tav and having the realization that the person he loves could turn into an illithid thrall. They would be gone, and he might have to kill what's left if they tried to eat his or someone else's brain. Also, it would absolutely be horrific to watch Tav go through ceremorphosis. Having a mind flayer parasite isn't the same as being sick, but it is a physical affliction that Halsin can't fix. He's weirdly positive that they'll find a cure, and they never do (at least not in the sense of medication or surgery).

It also would've made sense if he had a bit of a breakdown if Tav asks for one last kiss before the final battle starts ramping up. Things are getting stupid dangerous, and this has historically been when his friends start dying. But, nope he's still super calm here too and optimistic that they'd live (although after their night together, he admits he didn't dare believe they'd actually survive).

I'm not sure if they did the whole, "I'm going to ride off into the sunset, but watch the horizon for you everyday," thing to add some drama, but it feels out of place considering these other options. If Tav was going to "leave" it would've been due to the parasite or not surviving the battle. In the epilogue, those dangers have passed. If anything, it's at this part of the story where he should've felt most secure in their relationship because he's never had someone leave him "just because."

[vindicated-truth]

"How far do you think he's willing to go?"

I wonder if Dongsik has first thought of Joowon as a "necessary sacrifice".

I wonder if all the accusations he's been throwing at Joowon are his way of also convincing himself, because Joowon (as just another Han) is just another pretentious asshole anyway. Just like his father.

At least that's what Dongsik has first believed.

After all, it's not as if any of Joowon's actions has dissuaded Dongsik of that belief, particularly Joowon's seeming disdain of anything he seems below his level.

(It is not entirely untrue. In many ways, Joowon has believed himself above certain things—like walking in the mud and getting himself dirty, literally and figuratively.)

I think that's why as the story progresses, Dongsik is startlingly shaken out of this initial image of Joowon he has as Joowon himself continuously—adamantly—proves him wrong.

The reason why I'm saying this is because right after their confrontation outside of Munju Police Station where Dongsik openly dares Joowon if he can throw away his principles just to catch Dongsik—and Jeongje, whom Joowon assumes at this point is Dongsik's accomplice—we find Dongsik inside the taxi with a reaction not quite to be expected of someone who has once again one-upped Joowon.

Because whether or not Dongsik is actually guilty of the accusations Joowon is throwing at him, Dongsik's reaction at that point should be one of triumph.

If he's guilty, he should be triumphant that he has stopped Joowon in his tracks.

If he's innocent, he should also be triumphant that Joowon can never find anything to catch him with.

The problem is that Dongsik is neither. He isn't guilty of Joowon's current accusations. But he is guilty—for an entirely different reason.

That's why he doesn't want Joowon to stop—even if it means catching Dongsik. Just for a different reason Joowon has once believed.

In this moment, we see Dongsik in the taxi deep in contemplation—and, seemingly, regret.

Because he knows what he's doing.

Because at this point he remembers the partner he once lost, the partner he once failed to save—and asks his long-dead partner:

"How far do you think he's willing to go?"

It's not the question of someone who feels triumph over having bested an enemy. But it's the question of someone who's pushing their partner to a certain danger.

Dongsik knows this. Yet he knows he needs Joowon to keep going, to keep on pushing, to keep on digging, because it's the only way he can bring justice to all of Kang Jinmook's victims—including his sister, Yuyeon.

Dongsik, I think, has been partly convincing and comforting himself with the belief that Joowon, with his status and pedigree as a Han, will likely be protected anyway. That even if Joowon throws himself headfirst into danger, he has plenty of social safety nets surrounding him.

Except what Dongsik has never counted on is Joowon removing all those safety nets himself as he's prepared to dive headfirst into hell.

It explains so much about why Dongsik has been so adamant to stop Joowon from ruining his own life—starting with bargaining with Lee Changjin to take down the videos containing Joowon in them in exchange for withdrawing the assault charge.

And it's beginning to be clear why.

Part of it is because he still needs Joowon to investigate the cases for them to be finally solved.

Part of it is because he feels guilty as the one who's pushing Joowon into the line of fire in the first plae.

And part of it is because Dongsik, despite his best efforts, can't help but eventually, genuinely care about Joowon and what will happen to him, seeing as the boy he's pushing into the line of fire has no sense of self-preservation at all.

Dongsik is asking that question because he's apprehensive, because he's worried—because he's guilty.

And because he's scared.

Because he just might lose this partner, too.

"How far do you think he's willing to go?"