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#imagine them at parties they would be so good
woso-dreamzzz · 2 days
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Breakfast VII
Ellie Carpenter x Daniëlle van de Donk x Teen!Reader
Summary: Your Olympic debut
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Ellie can still remember her first Olympics.
She'd been sixteen too in Rio.
But her Olympics had been for football.
Yours is for gymnastics.
Daan had told you that it's okay not to reach the finals but, against the odds, the uneven bars had called your name.
Neither of your mothers pretend to know much about gymnastics apart from it being incredibly difficult and that it had taken over your life for years.
You hadn't quite cared when you missed school or a friend's birthday parties or opportunities to go on holiday.
Gymnastics was your life and when you had made the leap to senior gymnastics, you'd held your own fairly well and, now, you were here.
At the Olympics.
In an arena full of gymnastic enthusiasts watching you closely.
Ellie grabs at Daan's hand, sucking in a harsh breath as your name is announced.
You seem content though, happy even as you approach.
"It's going to be okay," Daan says, though it sounds like she's more trying to convince Ellie than herself," She's going to do amazing. This is just for the experience. There's no pressure on her."
It's a nice lie to tell but you're the only Dutch athlete to qualify for a gymnastics final.
Ellie's sure the whole country has tuned in to watch you compete.
There's no pressure from her and Daan.
There's pressure from the country.
You adjust your hand straps, chalking up your hands before approaching the bars.
Ellie doesn't get gymnastics but she does know that uneven bars are your favourite. She's not even sure if you know why but it is.
You've always loved them and multiple times, she's picked you up from practice while you're doing another routine.
She's admired you multiple times on the bar, star-struck by the confidence you have to just fling yourself off of them. She's even more star-struck when you land a series of complicated flips.
There's something impossible about the things you do and the ease at which you do them.
But those things are just in the gym, just at practice and Ellie knows practice doesn't always translate into the real thing but, as you grab onto the higher bar, Ellie can't see any terror in you.
The scariest part of your gymnastics, Daan thinks, is the injuries. She has been your mother for sixteen perfect years and every time you do a flip or a spin or some kind of complicated combination, she can't help but imagine all the ways it's gone wrong.
Your biggest injury was a dislocated shoulder when you were thirteen but you'd never had anything else but Daan had been to enough gymnastics meets to know that breaking legs and torn muscles aren't out of the question.
You spin around the high bar, releasing onto the lower one and Daan squeezes Ellie's hand.
Her eyes slam shut suddenly.
Ellie's always been the one that can't look away from you, awestruck by your abilities but all Daan can see when she looks at you is the slip you had when you were little, down the stairs and cracking your head open on the bannister.
It's not the same but it's all she can ever think about.
So, whenever you're on the bars, Daan has to shut her eyes, if only to give herself some peace of mind.
"Come on," She hears Ellie mutter next to her," Come on. You've got this. Come on."
Ellie's always been a talker at your competitions, a steady stream of commentary coming from her mouth that she had picked up bits and pieces of from tv commentators that actually know what they're talking about.
"Nearly done," Ellie says," And...And...She stuck it! She stuck the landing!"
Daan's eyes open up just as you walk off to your seat.
She hadn't watched a moment of your performance but from the roar of the crowd and the wild look on your coach's face, she knows it's good.
Good enough for a medal perhaps.
A bronze or silver would be perfect for your debut.
The waiting is tense, for everyone in the arena and Daan wonders what exactly she has missed with her eyes closed.
Everyone is waiting.
Barely anyone is breathing and you took a long drink from your bottle, eyes up on the screen.
A 14.540 would get you a bronze. A 14.700 would get you silver and Daan grips Ellie's hand more firmly than before.
The person in first sits pretty at the top with a score of 15.420 and Daan hopes you can weasel your way onto the podium.
The stadium erupts but all Daan can look at is you.
Your fists are pumped up into the air as your coach jumps around and hugs you.
"Fuck," Ellie says in awe," Oh my god."
A 15.500 puts you at the top and with only the lowest qualifier left, it's already in the bag.
It's confirmed the moment the last competitor slips from the bar and messes up her landing.
"It looks good on you," Ellie says after everything is all over.
"It's gold," You say," Gold looks good on everyone."
"It looks the best on you." Daan feels tears prick in her eyes and her bottom lip trembles. "I'm so proud of you. God, so proud!"
You tug her into a hug, holding her so close as you finally sob into her shoulder.
"I tried so hard, Mamma," You say," I just want to make you happy."
"You make me so happy," Daan says, cradling your face," All the time. You make me so happy and so proud."
"We'd have been proud of you even if you came last," Ellie says, joining the hug.
A little laugh escapes you. "But the gold helps, right?"
Ellie winks. "Gold always helps."
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Listen, I love Fiddlestan as much as the next guy, but where did we start getting the idea Ford was cold and dismissive towards Fidds during their time working on the portal???
I could totally be wrong because I haven't read every single GF related thing (hell, my journals aren't decoded because I'm a slacker), but like??? The first time he saw him, he bought him his favorite snacks *and* a whole ass banjo and said he'd make it his mission that Fiddleford would be comfortable in his home.
They go adventuring together and talk about things like fashion trends and the future and go stargazing.
Ford is *so* happy when Fiddleford returns that he hugs him immediately. Abd then he feels bad that Fiddleford feels bad about his failing marriage that he throws him a holiday party even though he doesn't celebrate and hates the holidays honestly. And he put on Fiddlefords favorite song (which he despises and honestly? ME TOO FORD. I HAVE BEEF WITH THAT SONG) and drank seemingly spiked eggnog with him despite not usually liking to drink. So that he could make Fiddleford feel better.
He also just openly adores everything Fiddleford does. Maybe it's only in his journals. You could argue he doesn't say it out loud but, like, he exclusively describes him as impressive all of the time-
And I get where it's coming from in like a "oh he's a workaholic who has the pressure of Bill breathing down his neck that he has to be working on the portal 24/7." And like yeah, but in the pages he's a workaholic he's a workaholic practically begging Fiddleford to stay up with him because he loves working along side him. Fiddleford and him work *together.*
Like the page where they're sorta fighting with each other because Ford wants to work more its not "leave me alone Fiddleford, I have to do this" it's "hey! How come you won't stay up with me! Ugh this is so unfair that you're going to bed even though you know I plan to continue working for another hour."
I'm just saying if Fiddleford wanted to cuddle, I imagine Ford's response would be "Oh! Awesome, I love spending time with him 🥰🥰🥰" but he'd just end up using Fidds' back as a table for his studies. Or they'd do that thing where one of them is working on a desk and they sit on one chair in each other's arms.
And, while we're here, realistically? Emotionally stunted, slapped by more women than He's dated, "I can't cry in front of people, and the only thing I'm good for is my fists." Stanley Pines??? He's not cuddling shit. He's got that toxic masculinity ingrained into him. It doesn't matter how incredibly touch starved he is, cuddling is too emotionally intimate and "girly" for him. Honestly if Fiddleford tried to cuddle him he'd probably throw him in a headlock because he's also been on the streets for years now with people constantly trying to attack him.
And I'm not saying this to diss on Fiddlestan. Again, I *like* Fiddlestan! But when I read "Ford could never appreciate him like Stan could" I don't understand it.
They so clearly bonded well together, and if Ford truly was being an asshole (or not an asshole, but just generally unpleasant even when he wasn't possessed) the whole time, I doubt Fiddleford would've stayed. Nostalgia and physical attraction can only get you so far, and Fidds is already facing the horrors in Gravity Falls, Stanford has to be a hell of an amazing person to make someone want to stay. Like, he's a grown adult. Sure he really wanted to impress Ford and allotted himself to be "the tech guy to Ford's smarts" but if he wanted to leave, he could've. And there didn't seem to much keeping him there. Especially when he was having doubts on the portal.
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lovelynim · 1 day
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May the best one win
Genshin Impact - Xiao, Aether, Albedo and Wanderer
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A/N: First things first, I want to thank @eliankrios for his support, patience and - above all that - his trust. This is my first big project in a good while and I think (and hope) that I managed to do a good job so... yeah.
I'm not really used to larger fics, but before I noticed, I was already reaching the word count. This was trully a ride, hahah. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this, my dear, faithful customer!
Summary: One day away from starting the next cycle of his journey, why not gather a few friends - and a special person - to hang together?
Word count: 6605 words
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Aether sat down and placed a bunch of letters on top of his desk, spreading them out in a fan. He couldn’t help but feel the expectation building up inside him, hoping for a positive outcome.
A couple weeks ago, Aether decided to promote some sort of gathering with his friends. A little farewell party before heading out to the next cycle of his adventure - after all, who knows for how long he will be away in Natlan?
So, with this thought in mind, Aether used his bestest writing to invite the ones he held dear over. Delivering the letters across all the continents he visited so far was a tough task, but Aether knew it would be worth the effort. Not only his friends, but he was also inviting him over, so of course he had to do each and every thing in his reach to make it work.
Back to the present, the replies to his invitations began to arrive, one after the other. The different seals in each stamp showed where they were from: Mondstadt, Liyue, Inazuma, Sumeru and Fontaine. Aether sighed, picking up the first one and carefully ripping it open.
His eyes scanned over the words written down, beaming with excitement with the positive answer by the foot of the page. A sense of relief and happiness filled his heart by the time he opened the second letter. And the third… well, the traveler pouted, maybe not everything would work out, after all. The fourth and fifth balanced each other out: both answers surprised Aether as they came as the completely opposite of what he had anticipated.
So far, Albedo, Xiao and Wanderer agreed to come over, while Kazuha and Lyney had to decline his request: one thanks to The Crux’s sailing plans and the other to his busy agenda. Still, managing to bring these three, with him included, was enough to fuel Aether’s imagination, dreaming of the day of the gathering.
He looked down at the letters, his mind now wandering to the second matter: what was he going to do with those three together? Thinking about it, would they even get along? Well, surely about was an easier person to be dealt with, but Xiao and Wanderer…
Aether shook his head. He shouldn’t be expecting the worst. What if they ended up enjoying each other's company? Or even became friends? Yes! The traveler stretched out his arms above his head, crossing his hands behind his head as he stared at the Serenitea Pot’s ceiling. He couldn’t wait for the day to come!
Well, they were talking to each other, at least. Not in the way Aether expected - or wanted, for that matter - but, still, a conversation, he supposed. 
Clenching his hand around his cup, Aether peeked left and right, hoping to spot any improvement in his guests’ mood. So far, however, Albedo was the only one to be enjoying himself, it seemed. He sighed, a faint voice inside his head already telling this whole meeting was a bad idea.
It’s not like he could say things went downhill from the very start. At first, with just him and Albedo - the first one to arrive -, everything worked out just fine: they had a little chat, Albedo tried out one of his dishes and even complimented Aether on the whole idea. It, indeed, felt like it was about to work out amazingly.
However, it seemed like his plans shattered in front of his very own eyes from the moment his second and third guest arrived - both at the same time, coincidentally. As soon as Xiao and Wanderer landed eyes on each other, animosity and an ominous feeling began to fill the room.
For some unknown reason, they did seem to get along. Aether couldn’t recall a time where they could possibly have interacted before and, being in his right mind, he wouldn’t consider inviting them both together if he knew about any of this - so why do they seem to… hate each other?!
Still, at first, Aether tried to think that it was just his impressions. After all, they wouldn’t be at each other’s throats for the whole night, now, would they?
They would. In fact, they were still at it.
There was no need for words when the two anemo users stared at each other like that, silently threatening their opponent and throwing daggers with their piercing looks. Aether could barely breathe as the tension began to get to him. It felt like they would start to throw punches if Aether took his eyes out of them for a single second!
Suddenly - breaking the silence like a rock thrown at a peaceful lake - Albedo hummed, clearly pleased. “The tea is really good, traveler,” he said, taking the cup away from his lips as he lowered it, “where did you say it came from again?”
Aether’s jaw dropped. ‘My savior’, he thought, coughing to clean up his throat before proudly holding his cup up. “From Fontaine! It might be a bit too sweet, but I really liked it, hehe… I ended up getting a couple more, so drink as much as you want, ‘Bedo!”
“Huh, ‘a bit too sweet’?” Wanderer scoffed, leaning back in his seat and cocking his head to the side, throwing Aether a teasing stare. “You have such a childish taste, traveler. I bet you even added sugar to your cup, didn’t you?”
“A-ahah,” Aether giggled nervously, blushing slightly. He indeed added an extra sugar cube… “Well, I just-”
“You don’t have to drink it if you don’t like it,” Xiao interrupted drily, his arms crossed in front of his chest while his brows furrowed. Uh oh. “Aether had all the trouble in preparing it for us. It’s rude to complain like that.”
“X-Xiao, it’s not that ser-”
“So what? Why are you even hurting in his place?” Wanderer snapped back defiantly, barely shifting in his place if not for his head tilting back - moving it just to look down at Xiao.
This was bad. Really, really bad. Aether looked left and right, trying to utter something to ease the tension, but ending up just getting interrupted before managing to utter anything. He didn’t even know if he should step in at that point - what if they thought he was taking a side? Even worse, what if they wanted him to take a side?!
While Aether lost himself in a flurry of thoughts, with one idea running over the other, Xiao and Wanderer continued their ‘little’ bickering, getting more and more flared up with each other.
“You should show proper respect to your host - especially if it’s someone as Aether,” Xiao hissed, leaning forward in his seat as if ready to jump at Wanderer’s face within the next seconds. 
Still, the other guy didn’t seem like he was planning to back down. “I can talk to him however I want. We are friends and he doesn’t mind. Why should I listen to you?”
“Apologize to the traveler. Now.”
“Or what, Yaksha?” Wanderer grinned. “Want to take it outside? I can b-”
Clap!
“Ahem.”
The two stopped, widening their eyes in surprise and turning their attention to Albedo, who still had his hands together. He also managed to call Aether’s attention, who watched him with expectant eyes - almost as if begging him for a solution. Someone as smart as him surely could come up with something, right?
“I didn’t plan to step in, but it doesn’t seem like you two will figure it out peacefully,” he sighed, his eyes scanning the room from one side to the other, making eye contact with Xiao and, then, with Wanderer. “Am I right?”
The two guys looked away, one puffing out his cheeks while the other clicked his tongue. Why did it feel like he was dealing with two kids..?
“He started it,” Xiao mumbled, saddened to see how distressed Aether was at the whole scene. “He was being rude to Aether.”
Wanderer sighed, rolling his eyes, “exactly, to Aether. Not to you. He doesn’t even care, you are the only one complaining.” Just as he finished speaking, Wanderer also shot a glance at Aether’s face and, despite his attempts to conceal his emotions, it was clear that it also bothered him.
However, even when they were aware of the consequences of their bickering, it didn’t seem to be enough to appease the mood. In a blink of an eye, they were about to start the whole discussion all over again.
So, for the second time, Albedo decided to meddle in their fight. “Do you two really wish to fight each other so badly?”
The unfriendly duo huffed, keeping themselves quiet, but clearly agreeing with Albedo’s statement.
“Sure, you can fight, then.”
“A-Albedo?!” Aether gasped, what was he even trying to achieve by allowing such a thing? Did he want to take notes on the results of Xiao and Wanderer’s falling out?! “N-no, you can’t fig-”
“But,” Albedo continued, skilfully capturing the attention of all the people in the room, “to prevent any harm to be done, you’ll have to solve this through a contest. And, whoever wins, gets to be ‘right’ about this matter. Good enough?”
Silence quickly sat in the room. Albedo could be a really mysterious - if not confusing - person when he wanted and, at times like these, it was almost impossible to figure him out. What was he even planning with this ‘contest’?
“Why would I even joi-”
“Fine for me,” Xiao abruptly cut Wanderer’s speech, looking at his possible opponent. “I can do it, no matter what it is.”
Wanderer gritted his teeth, growling quietly as Xiao managed to easily get into his nerves. “Ok, let’s do it. I can’t wait to hear the Yaksha begging for my pardon.”
Albedo smiled, looking at his side to meet Aether’s eyes. “Would you like to join as well, traveler?”
“H-huh? Me?”
“Yes, you can take part in it too,” Albedo nodded. “If you win, then they both shall apologise to each other.”
Aether furrowed his brows slightly, taking the offer in consideration. Certainly, winning on their terms would probably prevent Xiao and Wanderer from getting into another fight so it should be worth the try, right?
“Alright, I’ll join you guys too!” Aether clenched his hands, excited. This was getting interesting. “So, what’s your idea, Albedo?”
“Yeah,” Wanderer added, “what’s the ‘contest’ about?”
“Endurance.”
“What?” Xiao, Aether and Wanderer asked, almost in unison. 
Albedo chuckled, taking back his seat and elegantly crossing one knee over the other, ready to start his explanation. “So, the main goal here is to prevent you,” he pointed to Xiao, “and you,” then at Wanderer, “to hurt each other. My proposal, then, is an endurance test. Whoever lasts longer, wins. Simple as that.”
“And how exactly do you plan to test our endurance? Making us run around the house?” Wanderer mumbled, supporting his head on his hand as he looked at Albedo.
“By tickling you,” Albedo said with a smile, contrasting the unsettled faces of the other three. “Whoever takes the longest time to yield, wins.”
It didn’t take long for a pink hue to cover everyone’s faces. While Aether’s eyes widened and his whole body tensed up with a shiver running up his spine, Wanderer looked away, trying to hide his blushing cheeks by pretending to cringe at the idea. Meanwhile, Xiao fiddled in his seat, trying to find courage to face such a trial while telling himself that ‘it was for Aether’.
And, just like that, no one dared to object to the idea - each of them with their own reasons to not do so. “It’s settled then,” Albedo said as he clapped his hands together, his eyes scanning the whole room while a subtle smirk planted itself on his lips. “Is there anyone that would like to go first?”
That question seemed to spark a whole new level of anticipation among the ‘contestants’. Eager eyes shifted back and forth between one and another, trying to read who was going to make the first move.
A sharp inhale, then, directed everyone’s attention to Wanderer. “Fine, I’ll do it. Just get over with this stupid contest already,” he groaned, throwing a deadly glare to the other three as if daring one of them to even lift a finger towards him.
And as expected, his silent threats seemed to do the trick for Aether while, as for the Yaksha, it seemed to make him hesitate - after all, he wouldn’t want to start a fight in front of the traveler again. However, during the few seconds Wanderer occupied himself with keeping an eye on them, Albedo made his move.
“AH!” Wanderer squeaked like a toy, quickly shooting his arms down and pressing them against his body as hard as he could, trying to stop Albedo’s hands from climbing his ribs any further. “Y-you- fuhuck! G-grhrr, I wihill f-fuhucking kihill you!!” He growled, leaning his head back into the chair rest, but further into Albedo’s grasp.
“You’re allowed to laugh, though. I think I forgot to mention that,” Albedo mused, his index fingers poking at different spots in Wanderer’s ribcage, prodding at the little spaces between each bone in search for a sensitive spot that would make him crack. “Just say ‘yellow’ when you can’t take it anymore and I’ll stop, ok? That’s also what will count as ‘yield’.”
“I d-dohon’t need a fu- pfft, d-damn it! A sahahafe word! I’m n-nohot tihihicklish!”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Albedo mocked, digging into the back of Wanderer’s ribs with his thumb. Getting behind him was proving to be awfully convenient for him, he thought while making little notes in his head about Wanderer’s ticklish spots.
It was a sight to behold, from Aether’s and Xiao’s point of view. Albedo made touching someone like Wanderer seem easy, even casual, completely tickling his way through the threats and curses. 
“You’re pretty ticklish here, right?”
“N-NOhohoh!! G-gehehet off, ahAHAH!!” 
If it weren’t for the fact that they were up next in the line to get that treatment, it would be a pretty amusing scene to watch. As expected of Albedo, it seemed that every tweak of his fingers, every poke and every stroke were planned, calculated. Wanderer didn’t stand a chance as no matter what direction he arched or twisted his body, Albedo would already have his hands ready to welcome him with more tickles there. “Yohohou jehEHEHerk!! It tihihickles!”
Albedo simply scoffed a laugh and continued with the ‘contest’s trial’, his digits kneading at Wanderer’s lowest set of ribs. “Of course it does, that’s my goal.” 
But despite how hard he tried to make it tickle or how bad Wanderer claimed it to be, he was still not yielding - which meant it wasn’t time for Albedo to stop or let him go yet. A small pout took place in his lips while he pondered if he should try a different spot or, maybe, look around Aether’s place for a quill or a brush?
Then, feeling the gazes of his audience upon him and the current contestant, a different idea popped up in Albedo’s mind. Right, why didn’t he consider asking for some helping hands before?
“Would you like to join us?” Albedo suggested, cocking his head to the right while one of his hands managed to sneak under Wanderer’s arm, managing to tickle the smooth skin with the tip of his digits even with Wanderer clasping his arms down as hard as he possibly could. “Oh, did I hit a good spot?” He mused, looking down to the one squirming in his grip.
“NOHohohoh!! I-it’s ahAHAHahwful!!” Wanderer whined, his feet kicking up as he threw himself back in his seat, hoping to make Albedo lose contact with him, even if it was just for a split of a second. 
Back to the other two, they pondered about Albedo’s offer - after all, that seemed to be a double edged knife: if they did join, that meant Wanderer would also get to join when it was their turn to get tickled? But wouldn’t that also mean they had the chance to make him surrender faster? Well, it was worth the shot, Xiao thought, while Aether only considered that it would make things more fun - and that should be enough to outweigh the cons. 
Wanderer - too busy laughing and squirming in his seat, trying to fend off Albedo’s skilful fingers - barely noticed the two figures walking towards him. Not only that, but it wasn’t like any other sound besides his giggles could make it out of his mouth at that time.
All he could pay attention to was Albedo’s fingers trying to move and wiggle their way further up his torso, still managing to tickle him under his arms even when he tried so hard to protect that spot. Each move sent that awful signal that made him want to smile and laugh through his nerves and straight into his brain, over and over. 
He wasn’t even human, so why was he so sensitive?
Suddenly, that and other inquiries that crossed his mind lost all the room they had inside Wanderer’s mind. With his eyes still pressed shut, he could only feel - as focused for a brief moment - that Albedo’s hands managed to… multiply? Wait, that didn’t make any sense. If he was tickling his armpits, then who the hell was holding him down by his waist?
Oh.
“W-wahahait!! I didn’t sahahay you’d gehehet to join!” Wanderer whined, pulling his knees up close to his stomach as his in a vain attempt of stopping Aether from joining in. “GeEHEhet ahaway frohohom me!!”
“Stop squirming,” Xiao groaned coldly, grabbing one of his ankles and forcing him to stretch out his leg, “Albedo said we could join. You weren’t already thinking of yielding, were you?”
“Don’t be mean to him, Xiao,” Aether said, but didn’t complain about the extra room Xiao provided him. His fingers roamed freely, wiggling over Wanderer’s lower sides and stomach.
“YOHOHOU!! AHahAHaha, y-you suhuhuck!” Wanderer laughed, scrunching up his shoulders and thrashing his head left and right.
Albedo tickling his armpits and ribs from behind, Aether playing with his middle like an instrument and that stupid Yaksha holding his legs down. This couldn’t possibly have gone any worse, Wanderer thought while a wide, careless smile bloomed into his face.
“Tickle tickle tickle! ~” Aether cooed, repetitively poking Wanderer around his navel, circling his stomach and even going down to tease his sides as well. “I think I’m better than Albedo at tickling you, won’t you agree?”
“That’s bold coming from you, traveler,” Albedo snapped back, “I would say he is barely feeling your hands.”
It was hard to even process what was happening around him. Wanderer’s body mostly moved out of reflex, barely having room to ponder about his actions. He arched his back, tried to kick his feet up and even twist his torso, swatting his hands at any ‘threat’ within his reach. “S-stohohop it!! Y-yohou ahHAHare all s-so- aHAHaha, so l-lahahame!”
If this was how things went, Wanderer could probably achieve a decent score with much effort. However, there was a missing piece that he failed to notice: Xiao. The Yaksha, while keeping Wanderer’s legs held down, watched the whole scene carefully and plotted his strategy - the main goal was to defeat him, after all. Why show him any mercy?
“I tohohold you to stahAHAHAH!!”
Aether and Albedo widened their eyes as his laughter soon rose a pitch. Maybe even two. To their surprise, the ‘best tickler’ wasn’t Aether nor Albedo, but Xiao. “This is the weak spot,” Xiao muttered, his eyes coldly staring at Wanderer’s laughing face. He kept one of his legs outstretched while, with his free hand, he squeezed the spot just above Wanderer’s knee, sending him into hysterics.
Simple. Effective. Even a bit cruel, if you asked Wanderer. The tickling from Albedo and Aether even slowed down a bit, but Wanderer’s laugh only seemed to grow more and more frantic.
“NOHOHOH MOHOHOREHEH!! AHAHAhah, f-fiHIHIHINE! AHAH ~” He whined, desperately trying to pull his leg out of Xiao’s grip, “Y-YEHEHEHELLOW!! StahAHAH-”
Clap.
Xiao lifted his eyes from Wanderer’s to Albedo’s face. The alchemist had a pleased smile on his face while holding his hand out in front of his chest. 
“A-ahah… ah… y-you freheheak…” Wanderer cursed through tired giggles, his body going limp on top of his seat. His disheveled hair sticking to his forehead while his chest waved, trying to catch up his breath.
“Well, that wraps up our first round,” Albedo explained.
A cocky smirk took place in Xiao’s lips as he looked down at his main opponent, almost as if mocking him. Meanwhile, Aether’s eyes opened wide, beaming with excitement and anticipation - as that was probably what would wait for him. “H-how long was it, ‘Bedo?”
“I can’t say it yet, traveler,” he chuckled, “I don’t want anyone trying to push themselves beyond their limit just because of a silly game. So, let’s just stick with the rules for now, yes?” With that said, Albedo slowly walked around the chair, letting Wanderer rest while looking at Xiao and Aether, “should I decide who is going next, now?”
If it weren’t for Wanderer’s heavy breathing, the room would have been engulfed by silence again. However, just as Albedo was about to say something else, his attention shifted from the pair of “upcoming contestants” to the one next him. “Wanderer, what are you-”
“The Yaksha is going next,” Wanderer said as he got up, walking towards Xiao with bloodlust in his eyes. Did he really remember the goal of this contest was to not use violence?! “Come here!”
“G-get away from me!” Xiao groaned, trying to step back just to be tackled down into the soft carpet. Before Aether or Albedo could express their concern, Wanderer was already… tickling him. “S-stohop it! I dohon’t want y-you to doho it!” Xiao whined, kicking up his feet and swatting his hands at Wanderer's in a rather careless manner - it was not like he would bother himself with trying to not hurt him by accident.
Wanderer, with a wicked grin spreading over his face, continued to knead into Xiao's sides, determined to break him into laughter as soon as possible. “What do you mean? You wanted someone else to tickle you, you freak?” He mocked, pushing his hands away before dig into his lower stomach.
“S-shuhut it!! This ihihis nohohothing!” Xiao laughed out loud, caught off guard by the sudden change of spots. A faint blush began to spread over his face as he realized Aether had been watching him all this time. “I c-cahan tahahake it,” he boasted, almost as if trying to impress the traveler.
Wanderer, however, wasn't going to let that slide off easily - he was also one of the contestants, after all. “Suit yourself, Yaksha,” he muttered, half annoyed by Xiao's stubbornness, half amused by the whole situation.
Xiao was fighting not only one battle, but two. One to restrain himself from laughing, to make that revengeful tickling a bit more bearable and last the longest among them - or, at least, longer than Wanderer. The second was to maintain a collected image in front of Aether - the one he was ‘fighting’ for. It was just a childish, stupid game, not something that could beat a Yaksha. It was just tickling - he could, and would, take it, yes. 
“I-ihihit’s useless!” Xiao mumbled through gritted teeth, trying to mock Wanderer’s attempts to crack him up. “Yohohou are teheherrible at this!”
And as much as he would hate to admit, seeing Xiao taking it so well was starting to get on Wanderer's nerves. He tried tickling his sides and ribs, scratching his stomach and even pinch his waist, but couldn’t find a spot that really worked: all he could get from Xiao was those quiet, annoyed chuckles. “It doesn’t sound like you agree with that, Yaksha.”
“Are they always this competitive?” Albedo muttered to Aether with a surprised smile on his face, unable to do anything but be amused by the whole scene. “I didn’t expect they would take it so seriously.”
“W-well, they never hung together before,” Aether chirped, scratching the back of his head in surprise. At least no one was getting hurt and they were… enjoying themselves? Having fun? Something like that, he thought. “But I think it’s a good thing they… are sort of getting alo-”
“Hey, you two,” Wanderer groaned with a frown, “aren’t you going to help me as well? Or did you suddenly decide to not get involved?”
“H-hah, I knehehew you cohohouldn’t do it b-by yohohourself,” Xiao taunted again, a confident smirk taking space in his lips amidst the restrained giggles. He, however, kept a tight grip around Wanderer’s wrists, limiting a good amount of his moves. “You ahahare not up fohor the tahask!”
“Shut it, Yaksha,” Wanderer groaned, growing frustrated. He moved his head left and right, switching his attention between Xiao and the other duo, “I’ll make you eat your words, j-just you- ugh, let go,” he hissed, yanking his hands out of Xiao’s wrists before latching them at his sides again, making the latter arch his back and kick his feet as a loud fit of laughter nearly broke through his throat.
Aether and Albedo couldn’t help but to snicker at the scene. Nodding as if in some kind of silent agreement, they decided to join Wanderer’s efforts in making Xiao laugh. 
Albedo first positioned himself behind Wanderer’s, further restraining Xiao’s legs. Despite the whines and protests, he managed to pull off one of his boots and pin his leg into the soft mattress to scribble over the socked sole with his free hand. Albedo’s fingers wiggled upwards, stroking from Xiao’s heel up to his toes.
As for Aether, he took upon himself the task to take care of Xiao’s hands, taking a seat right next to the Yaksha’s head and allowing him to use his lap as a pillow. With a bit of Wanderer’s aid, he managed to pull Xiao’s hands up, exposing more of his torso for Wanderer’s merciless tickles. For some reason, having Aether holding his wrists down was flustering him the most among everything that was happening around him. 
With the ticklish feeling running back and forth all over his body, Xiao thrashed his head, pressing it further into Aether’s lap as he laughed brightly. His free leg kicked and his back arched - his defenses had, indeed, crumbled. Still, the whole point wasn’t to make him laugh, but to make him surrender.
“T-thahAHAH- that’s unfahAHAhair!!” Xiao laughed, a faint red shade covering the whole extent of his cheeks. “L-lehehet go, trahAHAhaveler!” He pleaded, his hands clenched into fists while he desperately tried to pull down his arms, only to have Aether stopping him midway and pinned down again
“Not so cocky now, eh?” Wanderer grinned, his fingers digging into the side of Xiao’s ribs while his thumbs prodded at the spot below his chest, determined to find that spot, that sweet spot that would make Xiao apologize for nagging him. “Tsk, just yield already, stubborn Yaksha,” Wanderer groaned, quickly shooting his hands down to pinch Xiao’s sides, “you are clearly at your limit.”
“It would be wise to not push you to your limits, Xiao,” Albedo said, barely bothering himself to look back at the whole scene as he was too entertained with Xiao’s foot trying to squirm away from his fingers. “If you feel like it, just say the word.”
“I’m doHOHOhon’t neh-HEHEHEH NEEHEHED IT!”
The three sighed, something giving them the feeling that Xiao would rather have his brain melted by the laughter than admit defeat. “Oh, Xiao, why are you always so stubborn?” Aether chuckled, his fingers itching to do a bit more than just holding Xiao down… but, if he were to join, he should pick a good spot - but where?
His eyes roamed from Xiao’s flushed cheeks down to his neck, then up to his ears and to his arms, which were held up next to his head. Oh. Aether smirked, letting go of one of Xiao’s hands and reaching out for his exposed underarm, clawing at it with his free hand. “Come on, Xiao ~ I know it tickles too bad, even for you ~”
Just as expected, Xiao bursted into a louder fit of laughter as soon as Aether joined the efforts into cracking him up. The Yaksha’s banged his free hand against the soft mat underneath him, clenching it into a fist. 
His cheeks and the sides of stomach were hurting from laughing so much and he couldn’t even make some meaning out of the conversation that was happening around him. It tickled so, so bad… Xiao pressed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the tickling, but each second of that electric feeling running all over his body felt an eternity. He couldn’t take it.
“AHAHAHAH, YEHEHELLOW!! YehEHEHEllow, plehehease!!” Xiao barked out among his cackles, turning his laughing face to the side and trying to bury it into Aether’s legs to hide his blushing cheeks. It took his brain some solid seconds to process that the tickling was over and, after all that “torment”, he was free.
“H-hehe, are you ok, Xiao?” Aether hummed, brushing his hand through Xiao’s head and wiping out the little tears that clung to the corner of his eyes.
“Tsk”, Wanderer pouted, totally not jealous of the little aftercare the Yaksha was receiving, “it’s just tickling. What kind of warrior would he be if he can’t take it?”
Albedo chuckled, but spared Wanderer of the reminder that he was the one laughing his head off just moments ago. “Don’t be mean, he did a pretty good job at this round,” he added, sliding off Xiao’s legs, “now… there is only one contestant left, right?”
That comment seemed to switch something inside Wanderer and Xiao’s heads. While Albedo displayed a playful smile, the other two locked their gazes into Aether’s face, one from below and the other in front of him, the latter just a half-a-Xiao away. “A-ahm… wait a second, I-”
“You’re not going back on your word, right?” Wanderer said with a smirk on his lips, already moving off of Xiao’s lap. Before Aether could even think of arguing back, the Yaksha was already sitting back up, staring at him with his golden eyes.
Aether swallowed, already accepting that there would be no way out for him this time. “F-fine, you cahAHA! W-wahahait a second, Xiao!”
“No,” Xiao muttered in a quiet, almost serious voice tone while he shyly pawed at Aether’s exposed sides, kneading into any patch of skin he could reach. 
Truth to be told, Aether would have to deal with both him and Wanderer tickling him from the start if it weren’t for the way Xiao looked at the other two - like a wild animal fighting for its territory. Still, Aether was too busy laughing and trying to defend himself to notice those bits of possessive behavior. “You shouldn’t have agreed to this, traveler,” Xiao hummed, his words as firm as you’d expect from a warrior, but still… gentle somehow. “You’re too ticklish for it, it’s unwise.”
“I wahahanted to try!” Aether giggled, letting himself be handled by the Yaksha and comfortably placed on Xiao’s lap. With one arm around his back, Xiao continued to tickle Aether, smiling fondly as he managed to hang this close to the traveler. “X-Xiahahao,” Aether whimpered, scrunching up his shoulder, “n-not my ehehehar!”
“But I’m not tickling you there, I’m just breathing,” Xiao chuckled, his fingers dancing around Aether’s stomach while he nuzzled his face against the side of Aether’s neck, “I told you, you’re too ticklish for this contest.”
While Xiao insisted on teaching and lecturing Aether about the sensitive spots in his body, Wanderer and Albedo exchanged glances, watching from afar as Aether laughed out brightly. “Doesn’t this count as going too easy on him?” Wanderer pouted, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he sulked against the couch.
“Let him have it,” Albedo sighed with a slight chuckle, “and I’m not talking about the traveler,” he added quietly, making Wanderer arch one of his eyebrows. Well, at least someone in the room knew how to read in between the lines, after all. “Besides, don’t you think you’re taking this competition a little too seriously?”
“What?” Wanderer huffed, entertaining himself with the conversation while Aether’s laughter grew in the background, “do you expect me to compete for the second place? Someone needs to teach that Yaksha his place.”
Albedo laughed, covering his lips with the back of his hand in a charming manner. “Well, if you say so,” he shook his head, returning his attention to Aether - who was already blushing from laughing. For some reason, Xiao was also blushing just as much, if not more, while tickling the traveler.
“Xiahahahao, n-not thehehere!” Aether giggled, tugging at Xiao’s wrists and leaning his head back into Xiao’s shoulder while Xiao pinched and squeezed his waist, prodding at the soft spots just above his hip bones. “I-it tihihihickles too bahahahad!” 
“I-it’s supposed to,” Xiao nodded, resting his chin by the side of Aether’s neck and allowing him to sink deeper into his embrace, “but you’re d-doing quite well, traveler. I expected you to tap out much faster than thi-”
“It’s because you’re going too easy on him,” Wanderer interrupted with a smirk, pushing himself back up into his feet and walking towards the little couple duo. Xiao frowned, too greedy to share his precious traveler with that… guy.
“I know how he likes it,” Xiao snapped, making Aether groan in embarrassment. Did he really need to say that out loud, the traveler thought, but didn’t voice it. “Unlike you, it seems.”
However, against what he expected, Wanderer chuckled at his snark. He shook his head and clicked his lips, almost as if spotting a fatal flaw in Xiao’s method. “That’s the problem. He shouldn’t like it, right? He needs to beg!”
“AHAHAH!!”
Xiao widened his eyes as Aether bursted out in a loud, unrestrained fit of laughter - and only then he realized the traveler was only giggling all this time, and not laughing for real. “He is pretty ticklish all over, all somewhat the same,” Wanderer scoffed, pushing his hands under Aether's arms and clawing at his ribs and the sides of his chest, “you need to go harder or you’re not going to make any progress.”
As much as he hated to admit, Xiao couldn’t deny that Wanderer seem to be… right. Could he actually have been going easy on Aether all this time without notice?
Despite the little bickering happening around him, Aether could only mind the fact that it tickled. Xiao’s gentle, playfully tickles around his stomach and hips made him feel lighthearted, made his heart flutter. Meanwhile, the restless, almost maniac-like touches from Wanderer’s fingers around his ribs made his head spin and even made his chest hurt a little from the lack of air. “A-AHAHAHALBEDO,” Aether cried out, pressing his arms down against his sides as he tried to protect his vulnerable torso from the tickles that seemed to come from all sides, “HEHEHELP MEHEHE! AHAHA!!”
“I can’t,” the alchemist said from the distance, his voice barely audible among the loud cackling, “you didn’t say it yet.”
Right, the word. That word. Aether shook his head, gritting his teeth as he tried to gather strength to say it. “Y-YEHEHE- AHAHAH!! Y-yehehell- hhahAHAH, I CAHAHAN’T!”
“Come on,” Wanderer mocked, “it’s a simple word, how come you can’t do it?”
“I’M TRYHIHING! AHAHAH, PLEHEHEASE!” He whined, shaking his head while tears of mirth clung to his lashes, “Y-YELLOW! YEHEHEHELLOW!”
Wanderer grinned triumphantly and Albedo sighed in relief, but Xiao pouted slightly, feeling like his fun was ruined by that other guy - even though he was still glad he managed to have Aether for himself, even if for just a bit.  
“A-ahahah… o-oh my…” Aether giggled, nearly melting over Xiao as the tickling finally came to halt. His head was spinning and he could swear he almost ascended to Celestia right there and then. “T-thihis was fun, heh…”
“It’s not supposed to be fun, it’s a competition,” Wanderer corrected him, that self-assigned superiority back in his eyes. “Now, alchemist, who wo-”
“Wait,” Aether stopped, shaking his head as if to force himself to recover, “it’s not over yet,” he smiled, taking one last gasp of air to stead his breath. “It’s Albedo’s turn now.”
“What?” Albedo blinked in confusion, pointing to himself with one of his hands as if to emphasize his shock. “But I’m not participating,” he said while letting out a small giggle, trying to hide his nervousness.
“How come?” Wanderer added, reading through Aether’s intentions and deciding to encourage them for once, “it’s only fair you get a turn too, this was all your idea, after all.”
Albedo’s eyebrow twitched slightly while his body leaned back into the couch, the apprehension growing within his chest. “M-my idea to solve your conflicts, I’m not part of the deal. W-what would I even win by beating you?”
“That’s up for you to decide,” Xiao added, standing up again before helping Aether to get back into his feet, “but I agree you should participate.”
Aether looked at Wanderer, at his right, and then at Xiao, at his left. He didn’t expect them to join or support his plan - he only wanted an excuse to tickle Albedo, after all - but this whole ‘contest’ thing seemed to, indeed, have made them closer. “Get ready, ‘Bedo! ~”
“A-Aether!” Albedo gasped, trying to get up in a hurry to evade Aether, but only managing to get a few meters away from the couch before being tackled down by the traveler. “S-stohop!”
“I didn’t even start,” Aether laughed, straddling Albedo’s back before starting to tickle his sides and lower ribs. “Show them how it’s done, ‘Bedo!”
Damn it. Of all the things that could’ve happened, a turn of tables against him - with even Xiao and Wanderer fighting on the same side - was the last one Albedo expected. “Nohoho! I dohohon’t wahahant to pahaharticipate!”
Aether smirked, shaking his head, “too late for that! But don’t worry, I’m rooting for you,” he said, letting out a short giggle while trying to move his fingers towards Albedo’s armpits - an attempt the alchemist promptly blocked, stopping to flail his arms and using them to try to protect his body instead. “You two,” Aether called out, looking over his shoulder, “aren’t you going to join?”
Xiao and Wanderer nodded, walking towards where Albedo had been restrained, “of course, he is the ‘most promising contestant’, after all, “Wanderer commented sarcastically.
“W-wahahait! Yellow! I-I quihihit!”
“That’s not acceptable,” Xiao added in a cold voice tone despite the warm, playful smile on his face, “you’re clearly not being fair with us. You should always give it your all, no matter the circumstances.”
“Nohoho! W-what ahahre you two doin- aHAHAH! H-hehehey, lehehet me go! ~” Albedo laughed, feeling some more weight against his legs before the new sets of fingers began to roam and tickle any spot they could find around his legs. If they were already so determined to tickle him, Albedo didn’t even want to imagine how they would react when they found out that there was no true winner - after all, he had never timed their turns to begin with.
Sigh, at least they seemed  more friendly towards each other now, Albedo thought while trying to sound “genuine” enough in his attempts of yielding between his laughter. This was going to be a long - but fun - night…
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I find it endlessly hilarious that Rook Hunt invited Malleus to his birthday party and Malleus, guy who yearns to be included in stuff and to be invited, didn't go. To be fair, Malleus seems to find Rook annoying and Leona also didn't want to come though Ruggie was there for food. It's just funny that Malleus clearly has a bias and will not accept just ANY invitation.
Mally being like "only two people invite me anywhere 😔 (yuu and lilia)" when Rook Hunt is right there lol but then Malleus doesn't vibe with him so that's just how it is
Poor Rook Hunt, my fave lil guy
it's a bit sad in some aspects as well, of course. Guy invites two of people he finds super interesting and they don't want to come but such is life. And then another who rejects the invitation probably for fear of further alienation.
Still, very funny to think about Malleus having such a clear bias
Imagine Malleus ignores the invitation to Rook's birthday and goes to hang out with Yuu instead only to find out Yuu was hanging out with Rook. Rook offers some of his favorite food to Yuu (liver pate, basically a creamy spread made from liver, usually some type of poultry, blended with spices like onions, garlic, herbs. It sounds like a meat dip basically, sounds good, spread on buttered toast, he says he doesn't often get have it because it has to be fresh to taste good so he's very happy to have some and offers yuu some).
Here he is enjoying the fuck out of his favorite snack
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Anyways i feel like Malleus would get so peeved and put out when he finds out his fave was hanging with Rook and Rook shared food with them at his party. He's extra annoyed with Rook now lol
Malleus may want to be invited to thing but even he has standards. 😑
But yeah, I feel kind of bad for Rook, People just don't seem to be able to handle the guy's silliness and whimsy. He's sweet and would be all happy likely with any gift you end up bringing too.
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miller-n-morgan-2 · 2 days
Text
Take Me Home
4. John Fucking Marston
Arthur Morgan x Texas Red!Reader
A/n: GUYS I GRADUATED MY FROM MY COURSE! i give you this chapter as a token of my celebration... now I just have to make sure I don't have any models fall off the runway in my line up lmao
Summary: The newest arrival makes his way into camp, and inadvertently becomes the reason that chaos begins to spread. Luckily, his new uncle Arthur is there to carry the woes on his broad shoulders.
Warnings: mild swearing, canon typical violence, birth?? mentions of past death and Arthur remembering his deadbeat dad days. drinking, mild alcohol abuse?? also Hosea is a real one we love Hosea
WC: 4.5k
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“Need I remind you of the price you’re gonna pay?”  “She’ll be safe with you. The boy, too. I ain’t leavin’ them in incapable hands.” “But you’re leaving them,” Arthur reasoned, trying his best to make any last effort to save what could have been, but he knew his found brother would not be changing his mind. His only thought at this point was to beg him to stay. If only because he was the one who asked. “Don’t do this. They need you, we need you.”
A week after the heist, Arthur’s shoulder was feeling better… but his head was hurting like hell. 
In fact, on this specific night, nearly everyone’s head was throbbing on account of the wails and cries of terrible pain coming from the edge of camp. 
Abigail had gone into labor around five hours ago, and the little baby had still not come into the world yet. As of right now, the men were huddled close to the fire, passing around a fresh bottle of whiskey in attempts to pass out so they could get some sleep. Meanwhile, the women were rushing to and fro about the camp, working their asses off to bring a new life to the gang. 
You figured it would help you bond with the boys more if you sat with them, moaning and groaning about the noise… but you’d much rather be helping, making sure nothing went wrong in the tumultuous process of birth. 
It wasn’t until close to one in the morning that a tiny baby boy was born, strong as ever, with lungs so powerful they could blow a lark out of a tree. His cries replaced Abigails, but after all that time, everyone was pleased to know the delivery was over, and both parties were healthy and sound. 
The men did eventually pass out, all except two. 
Arthur and John were up till the crack of dawn arguing, and it didn’t look good from an outside perspective. 
You were about to take back towards your tent when you came across them, hurriedly getting out of their line of sight so you could listen without suspicion. You knew you had no right to eavesdrop, but with everything you’ve heard from Abigail concerning John, you were bursting with curiosity in a way that turned your stomach. 
“I don’t see why I need to be convinced otherwise,” John ripped into his dearest friend, and even from behind a wall of tented fabric, you could imagine the look on his face. 
“You’re makin’ a mistake right now, and you ain’t gonna see it until it’s too late.”
“How would you know? S’not like you did any better,” the tone of his voice was bitter, almost. John caught himself, taking a step back and breathing more evenly after his fit of anger. “I didn’t mean that, Arthur… but you oughta know where my head’s at.”
Arthur was silent, and you wished more than anything you could see the look on his face to determine how Marston had gotten to him. Was he saddened or angry? Maybe even confused? You didn’t know, but you didn’t have long to dwell on it. 
“You listen here, boy,” Arthur’s voice sounded threatening, intimidating. It was perhaps the scariest you’ve heard him speak. “You ain’t got no idea what’s comin’ to you if you leave. There will be no place in hell you’ll be able to hide from the decision you’re about to make. It’ll follow you the rest of your days, and haunt you when you’re dead, you understand me?”
John didn’t speak, didn’t answer or even mumble an excuse, he just walked away. He walked towards Abigail’s tent, ducking his head under and closing the front panel. You stood there stunned, afraid to move… but then Arthur came up around the backside of the area and scared the shit out of you. 
“You hear all that?” He asked, a slanted look in his eyes and a distaste for you in his tone. It might be the remnants from his past conversation, but you hate the way it sounds. 
“Arthur,” you caught your breath from the fright he gave you just in time to mumble out an apology. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t be listenin’, but Abigail’s been telling me things and I just…”
He managed to huff out one silent breath of a laugh, shaking his head. 
“Don’t be fretin’ on my account, I ain’t mad at you.” 
You sighed in relief, stepping closer to him now that you didn’t feel so burdened. 
“I don’t know him very well, but what I’ve seen… he doesn’t know his head from his ass. Is he really gonna leave?”
“I don’t know,” he started, crossing his arms and letting out a small yawn. He’s just as tired as you are. “I think I just bought a few days, maybe more, but who knows.”
“You think he can change his mind?” You relaxed your demeanor in front of him, but kept your head on a swivel just in case
He was so tired, you felt bad for keeping him awake, but you figured these thoughts were weighing heavy on him, and it might be good to get it off his chest. “He’s far too stubborn to do it on his own. We’d all have to raise hell for him to think badly of his own choices.”
You frowned, turning towards the tent of the new, young family… There were already so many problems in their unit. 
“Poor Abigail.” 
She’d be alone, and with a child to take care of. And meanwhile John would be scott free and having the time of his life.
“She’ll be alright, her and the boy. I’ll make sure of it,” he nodded towards where you were staring. “Around the time he started acting up, I told her I’d marry her, be the kid’s father if she wanted me to.”
Your head snapped around to him, and you processed his words. Abigail told you about part of his offer, because you’d given her the same one, sans one detail…
“You’re gonna marry her?” 
“Only if she wants me to, if John leaves.”
Good to know… but not really. It looks to you like John is pretty set in his ways, even if he ends up staying through the week, or even more. 
You nodded to him, but you hated the notion that he could already be promised to another person, even if you had absolutely no plans on pursuing him yourself. It was a small little envious monster that crawled in the pit of your stomach, and for a split second, you felt yourself resenting Abigail, who thus far, had become your closest friend after Arthur. 
“I actually offered the same,” you laughed, shaking your head and kicking your boot into the ground. “Not that it would last, but I just wanted her to know I was willing to help.”
“The whole gang chips in here and there, bein’ a family and whatnot… She’ll never go without help,” he assured, his posture becoming heavier with each minute passing. 
“Yeah,” you cleared your throat and stretched your arms out, faking a massive yawn that looked real enough to pass you off. “It’s probably time we all turn in, huh?” 
For some reason he seemed vaguely sad for the interaction to be over. 
“Just about… I’ll catch you later, then,” he waved you off, heading back to his wagon and you to your tent. Even though they were relatively close, the entry points were on opposite sides.
You fell back into your cot with a heavy exhale. It’s been a long night, and with a crying baby in the camp, it’s looking to be a long next few months. 
-
The next few days were wonderful, despite the ill attitudes of a few grumbly men, Arthur not included. 
Dutch has been going on and on since the birth of the baby that the newest member should be given a worthy name. You assume he suggested his own namesake a few times, but since he’s been nothing but playful about the whole thing, you know he isn’t too bitter when they do finally settle on a name. 
Abigail picked it out, and you understand why. 
John Marston Jr, or as the two have taken to calling him already, Jack. 
You were surprised to see that waking up in the late afternoon the day of the birth, John was being… really different. He was putting in effort to help Abigail, he was making sure the others knew of all the information as it came, and most importantly, he was being positive about the whole situation. You suppose Arthur did knock some sense into him, and it was evident in how he was carrying himself. 
You weren’t sure how long it would last, but you felt relieved. Not only for Abigail, but selfishly, for yourself. If John sticks around and pulls his weight, Arthur doesn’t need to be tied down to a family. Not that he would ever see it that way, but still. 
You didn’t know where you stood with Arthur. He was a dear friend, you knew you could say that by now. You think that maybe the playful banter between you holds more than just friendship, but you can’t be sure, and you’re too damn chicken to test the waters. And obviously, a plain and simple conversation is entirely out of the question, because of ridiculous reasons you don’t care to list off. 
Maybe you’ll never know, and you’ll always be playing the game of ‘will we, won’t we’, unable to come to a sound conclusion. You think you’d be well enough with that, even if you never settle down with anyone. 
It’s a terrible absolute, and you should have never decided on it, but you think that being open ended and in this endless cycle of banter with Arthur is better than being in a committed relationship with anyone else. It makes the one on one interactions with him that much sweeter, though. Like today, when it was both your turns to watch baby Jack. The others were working on something in the town, and Abigail and some of the women were napping, having taken care of him through the night.
“He might be hungry,” you suggested, laughing at Arthur’s attempt to sooth the wailing infant. 
“I get hungry too, y’never see me cryin’ about it,” he was joking, clearly. He shook his head and reached for the glass bottle Miss Grimshaw had prepared this morning. 
Jack fed on the bottle and stopped crying, and in the aftermath, you paused to watch the scene before you. A big, gruff outlaw, with his hair tousled and shirt out of place from tiny hands fisting at it, and relaxed in his arms, a tiny baby being bottle fed. It was such a contradictory picture, but one you couldn’t tear your eyes away from. 
“Cute,” you mumbled, nearly under your breath, but he heard you. 
“He’s somethin’,” he chuckled, a small smile on his face when mentioning the boy he held so close. Arthur was many things, but amongst them was gentle. He was a kind creature by nature, that had only been hardened by experience, and these soft moments let his internal goodness show. 
“I meant you,” you teased, and he rolled his eyes, shaking his head. He didn’t even know how to respond for a second. 
“I’m quite the opposite, but I’ll thank you for the thought.”
As tough as he was, and as rightfully boastful over his skill with a weapon or with his bare hands, he seemed to negate himself often. His intelligence, his artistic talent, his looks, even his presence during group gatherings. It saddened you, and you didn’t even know the root of his struggle.
“Why you always doin’ that?” 
“Doin’ what?” he asked, his head tilted to the side and a narrow look on his face. 
“Bein’ mean to yourself…” you answered, sitting down on the other end of the log he was relaxing against. 
What a treat it would be for Arthur to see himself through your eyes. He’d never think poorly of himself again. 
“M’not, just the truth.” 
And that was even sadder. Who on earth ever convinced this man that he wasn’t good enough? Whoever it was, you’d like them to be on the other side of your pistol’s barrel. 
You huffed out a sigh, leaning forward so he didn’t have to strain his neck to look back at you. 
“Y’know it’s too damn bad, I happen to think you’re a pretty decent person. I pity anyone who thinks otherwise,” you spoke firmly, laying it on thick so that maybe he can come to terms with believing you. 
“Is that so?” 
“Mhm, very much so…”
He looked back down at Jack, trying to distract himself from your complimentary onslaught. He didn’t much care for compliments, so he wasn’t even sure how to receive them, if he accepted them at all. He has a very strong belief system, and it’s constantly just a mantra of things like ‘I am a bad man, I do bad things, I am dangerous, I am getting old, I am ugly,’ and so on. He didn’t understand how much he had hurt himself by forming those beliefs in the first place. 
You sat with him in silence for a few minutes, just watching Jack finish the bottle and settle into Arthur’s arm for a nap. He slept a lot for someone that cries through the night. Hearing the soft cries in the night isn’t peaceful, but it’s better than the anxiety and feeling of dread his cries brought you the first day, when John was set on leaving. 
You keep replaying a moment from that morning in your head, when the sun was just over the ridge, and you were heading to your tent… 
“Arthur?” 
“Yeah?” He turned his head again.
“The day he was born… that argument between you and John,” you wanted to make sure you phrased this correctly, unsure if it was a sensitive topic. “He’d apologized for sayin’ something… Sayin’ that you didn’t do any better? What was he talkin’ about?” 
Arthur took a deep inhale and shifted around in his seat, the ground beneath him feeling like it could cave in just at your words. John had struck deep with what he’d said, but having to rehash it, and with you… it wasn’t a thing he’d ever do for fun, to put it nicely. 
“I mean, him talkin’ about leaving Abigail, and you givin’ her your offer… You’re already better than he is.”
“I wasn’t always,” he shook his head. “Holdin’ him like this, it makes me remember just how terrible I am.”
You sank down from the log and scooted closer to him. No one in camp was around to see, so you didn’t bother looking. His eyes got foggy without even going into detail, so you didn’t push… but he seemed to open up on his own. 
“I had a boy when I was John’s age. Same situation n’ all,” he shook his head, trying to keep his sights on the ground in front of him. The longer he held Jack, the worse this feeling got, but he knew it wouldn’t ever go away, not really. Not with a new and constant reminder of his past. “His momma and I, we didn’t get on too well, so I kept with the gang. Didn’t ever come around except when we passed through that town. Could count on two hands the times I saw my own son…”
You didn’t know what to make of this. He has a son? Does he keep contact with him? You’re unsure if you want to know all the details, because hearing it as is, sounds messy. 
“Where does he live?” 
You had no idea that you’d just asked the worst question in response… but how else were you supposed to know? This was the first you’d heard of Arthur’s son. 
“He uh… he died, about three years ago,” Arthur shook his head, swallowing back the lump in his throat, though his teary eyes persisted. “They both did... I came back one day, and found two crosses in the yard. I asked around, townsfolk said a group of robbers came through and raided several homes.”
“Arthur…” you grabbed his arm gently, trying to convey your sympathy, and your sadness. 
“I knew it had been my fault. If I had been there, my son would be alive, his mother, too.” 
A cloud had rolled over the sun, and shrouded in a temporary shade of darkened light, the mood felt heavier than even his words could convey. This man and his layers, being peeled away before you… it was both touching, and terrible. You had no idea a man was capable of feeling so deeply, of being so open about his past and regrets. You’d never seen a man cry before. 
“Issac and Eliza were their names,” he finally looked at you, tears escaping his eyes at a rapid pace. He let them fall, somehow knowing you wouldn’t judge him for it. “And they aren’t here because of me.” 
You gently raised a hand and wiped his cheeks with your thumb, leaving your hand there for as long as he would let you. 
“I’m so sorry, Arthur…” 
Nothing you could say or do would help to heal his wounds, but you wanted to try. Wanted to be there for him, whatever that meant. You and him got on well. You were friends, but there was competition between you, all a part of your banter. You supposed you’d feel inclined to let him win in any circumstance from now on, just because you couldn’t bear to make him upset. Seeing him this way broke your heart, but it also empowered you in some way. To be more empathetic, and kind, and to not let your anger get the better of you. You’ve proven to him in the past that you were a hot head, no pun intended. You would have to be mindful of letting yourself fly off the hinge to him in the future. 
“Even if John doesn’t leave… I swear I’m gonna do right by this boy,” he let out, his voice trembling but his words were of certainty. 
You felt a tear roll down your own cheek, and did nothing to stop it. This moment, whatever it was, you wanted to feel it. Wanted to keep it buried within the depths of your soul. 
You’ve been on the run for four years now, and in those four years, you’ve been on your own, making some sort of fantasy world for yourself where death was just the thing at the end of a duel, and you never had to pay the toll of those losses. 
You’d not been living in reality, and coming to this gang, meeting Arthur… it must have been preordained. It must have been fate. He himself, day by day, was restoring your humanity, and your ability to feel something that wasn’t just a farce.
“Thank you for telling me,” you whispered, but being so close, he heard you clearly. 
He let out a huff that you suppose was meant to be a soft laugh. “You don’t just hear me, Red… you listen to me. I guess I’ll keep on tellin’ you things.”
And soon both your attentions were pulled back to Jack as he stirred slightly. 
You took a turn holding him while Arthur went to grab some food, and you found you rather liked this particular baby. He was a sweet little thing, not so bratty like the tiny cousins you grew up around. You can only hope he’ll stay this sweet as he grows older. 
-
A month had passed, and John was getting more angsty. 
Arthur was honestly surprised he had lasted this long. It seemed impossible that he stuck around, especially when he had to be the one to take a turn with the baby during the night. 
Fights had broken out with various members of the camp, mostly over John and his unwillingness to help anymore. Dutch had chewed him up and spit him out, and after that, John had made up his mind, for certain this time. 
“You ain’t leavin’, just sit down,” Arthur pulled him back by the shoulder, trying to stop him from packing up and saddling his horse.
“What makes you think I would stay with a bunch of folk who hate me?”
“We don’t hate you, you’re bein’ ridiculous. Sit down, we’ll talk about it.” Arthur tried to reach out for him again, but John pulled himself back and out of the way, two steps from the hitching post. “Boy, you’re not goin’ anywhere-”
“I’m leaving!” John burst out, taking Arthur by surprise. This wasn’t just another hissy fit or tantrum where he would eventually let it stew over. He was really gonna do it. “The kid ain’t mine, I counted back. She’s just try’na tie me down, Arthur... I feel for her, but I ain’t stayin.”
“Need I remind you of the price you’re gonna pay?” 
“She’ll be safe with you. The boy, too. I ain’t leavin’ them in incapable hands.”
“But you’re leaving them,” Arthur reasoned, trying his best to make any last effort to save what could have been, but he knew his found brother would not be changing his mind. His only thought at this point was to beg him to stay. If only because he asked. “Don’t do this. They need you, we need you.”
“You don’t need me, Arthur. You’re the better one, always were…” 
“C’mon now, you know that ain’t true. S’just another excuse,” he waved his arms around, trying to emphasize just how stupid it sounded. Yes, it’s all Arthur’s fault that John is leaving. 
John doesn’t even answer Arthur, he just turns heel and readies his horse, all while the older of the two stands by and ridicules him for what he’s about to do. All John can do is tune him out, and pretend he doesn’t hear the distant crying at the other edge of camp, where Susan is trying to console a tired and emotionally devastated Abigail. Their son sleeps in Tilly’s arms, oblivious to anything happening around him, but what’s to come will put a damper on his previously bright future. 
By the time John is on his horse, loaded up and ready to head out, Arthur grabs hold of his leg, yanking it back from the stirrup. He looks to his eyes one more time, to see if there’s any guilt, any resolve, anything that might show he knows what he’s doing is wrong… but he only sees annoyance and pride. Two things John Marston usually wore on his face. 
“If you leave this camp, you best never come back again, ya hear?” 
And for the first time that night, Arthur saw just a shred of fear in the younger man’s eyes. 
“I hear,” he nodded, the fear turning into sadness in this last moment. “It just ain’t worth it no more.”
And with that, he turned his horse, and left the camp. 
Arthur went storming through the camp after the interaction, needing to find himself a drink. 
-
You were angry and rightfully so, stomping back into camp like a bear hunting its prey. Walking up to the campfire, there were only a few left awake. Pearson and Hosea sat, hunched over and with half full whiskey bottles in their hands. Probably from the stolen stash, the brand was decent.
“Anyone seen Arthur?” You asked them both, knowing that at least Hosea could tell you. 
“He passed out ages ago,” He nodded towards his covered wagon near the trees and rocks separating your space. “John left camp tonight.”
“I know, I caught him outside the saloon,” you sat down by them, reaching out for either bottle they were willing to hand over. “Gimme some of that, will ya?”
And of course, drinking was the solution at the end of the day. 
After a while, Pearson dragged himself to bed, leaving you and Hosea to sit and stew by the fire, milling about your tumultuous thoughts. You should have known he’d ask for details of your run in with John. 
“I was out scouting today… realized I needed to go to town for a pair of socks, mine got holes too big for sewin’,” you began, gaze trapped on the fire, the alcohol making it harder to focus on anything else at once. “Came outside and found him hitchin’ his horse.”
“You were the one who approached him, then?” 
“I thought about just wavin’, I thought I’d be seein’ him back here… but then I looked at his saddle. He was packed up for the trek of a million miles,” you sighed, taking another big swig of the pricey whiskey in your hand. You would finish the bottle in no time if you kept up like this, trying to quench your raging thirst for something strong and potent.
“What did you say to him?” 
“Nothing really, not at first. Just asked how the day had been, how Abigail was. I haven’t been here since this morning. I guess they started fighting real bad after I left. Dutch tore into him, too,” you spoke heavily, suddenly the swigs you were slamming back were making you a bit less understandable. Hosea though, was easily able to listen, because after years of Arthur’s drunk slurring, and having to make out sentences between, he was practically an expert. “All I said was that he shouldn’t leave, because he’ll regret it.”
“And I suppose that didn’t help.”
“Nah, he just told me where to shove it. I think he’s scared… not of the kid, and not of Abigail. I think he doesn’t wanna end up like his father. Arthur’s told me something about it, but in my opinion, he’s trying to get out before the resentment turns to abuse n’ all that.”
“I reckon you're right. We all told him time and again he’d be a good father, but he’s stubborn as they come, and when his mind’s made up… there’s no stopping that boy.” Hosea shook his head once more, his sadness reflecting in the light of the fire. 
“I guess Arthur’s gonna marry Abigail, now…” you knew you were just trailing into your thoughts, and that while getting more drunk, you shouldn’t be saying them out loud… but you couldn’t help it. Selfishly, on your ride back to camp, this is all you thought about. 
“He offered, it’s up to Abigail to accept,” he said gently, raising his brows in thought as well. He doesn’t see it as a good match, but he thinks it’s honorable that Arthur would do such a thing. 
“I hope she doesn’t,” you murmured quietly, but it seems he still heard you. 
“What was that?” 
“Nothing, m’just gettin’ drunk.”
He chuckled under his breath, his side eye remaining on your features just a while longer before he stood up, patting you on the shoulder. 
“Don’t drink too much more. You’ll pass out before making the trip to your tent.”
And then he left you alone. With your thoughts and a bottle of whiskey in hand, who knows what more you could do in a situation like this. It was better to cut your losses and just turn in… so you did. 
Laying down on your cot, you expected sleep to take you. It should have, given how tired you were, but the single notion kept echoing in your head over and over…
Arthur Morgan isn’t mine, and he never was.
Tags: @photo1030 @sheepdogchick @snoopysshark @strvberrydoll @yyiikes @phantasyy @puffyhairedhipster @scorpio-echo
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fandomfluffandfuck · 3 days
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Hey S! My mind is in the gutter again (when is it not?) and I mean after all these years Anthony (Mackie) must’ve walked in on Chris and Sebastian doing the dirty.
So imagine: They’re filming catws and I don’t think that Chris and Sebastian would have told him about their relationship. Yeah, maybe they know that Anthony has his suspicions and they’d be okay with him knowing, but they just haven’t had that talk yet, y know. And Anthony’s a smart man, he already knows, gives them knowing glances (we’ve seen them enough in interviews). But then, they go film on a different location and they stay in hotel rooms. It’s already late, maybe they all went out for drinks after filming and Chris and Sebastian got back earlier to have some fun of their own. When they check in and they go to their room, they don’t open all the doors, because they’re too busy getting each other naked and finding the bed.
Anthony on the other hand also came back, he got the room next door. He does open all the doors and sadly, the hotel forgot to close the door that intertwines the rooms (like for families and or people who want a really big room?) and there right in front of him. Is Sebastian riding the living hell out Chris, moaning at Chris’ dirty talk. Anthony screamed like a 9yo girl (he would never admit it) traumatized by the sight, but happy for his friends.
From that moment on Anthony’s their proud supporter and he will forever tease them about their sex life.
Okay so sorry for that, but I needed to get that out and I really want a better writer (like you, Sir;)) to write this.
For reference, my ask box is no longer open for requests, but this is from before I closed it, so I will be writing for this ask.
Hey! Lmao, fair enough, I fucking feel that shit. I live in the gutter at this point. I do not leave. And as far as poor, poor Anthony having to put up with Chris and Sebastian's shit...
May I interest you in this semi-recent ask answer from Minnie (@musette22) on this exact subject? Because, fuck yeah, you're not the only one thinking about it, lol. Also, though, I will add to that ask answer with another fic rec from Minnie that sort of fits the bill. Depending on how you look at it, haha. Technically Mackie doesn't walk in on them, he's already there when they get started, but still, I love the fic! It's "Intervention" by musette22 on AO3. Highly recommend!
Imagine, yes, though, I will 👀
(This was going to be actual smut, but then I couldn't help myself, and it turned into crack, so, my apologies. But I think I had more fun writing Mackie getting punked, anyway 💀💀)
Anthony has been dragged around on his fair share of film sets and he's been in the middle of fucking nowhere for that shit before. Thank you, no thank you, Hurt Locker, in the middle of the goddamn desert with practical explosions that blew them back onto their asses. Literally.
So, he thinks he's pretty damn lucky to have it nice and cushy this time as far as filming locations go. First in Cali, L.A. babyyy, then Washington D.C., and now Ohio. Sure, Ohio is a fucking abyss in the middle but Cleveland isn't so bad. It's nice. The location, the film budget, and his friends. It's all nice. Chris is a good buddy, Sebastian he hasn't seen much of but he's getting to know more every time he does and they have a scene together, and Scarlet, well, Anthony wants to see a hell of a lot more of Scarlet. Maybe before the movie and press are up he can convince Chris to tell him the secret to working on too many fucking movies with the same person. Yeah, that'd be good. He's gonna do that. That's a good plan.
He's set up good. He's got a good life. And he's had a good fucking night, following Evans around in downtown, club to bar to club to club--who knew Cleveland would have so many places to party, goddamn--after a day of relentless filming.
At some point after tipsy but before outrageously drunk, where Anthony is now, Chris and Sebastian split off from the group and disappeared. Anthony didn't let himself worry about it, they got it covered, and knowing how Chris gets when the lights go down, he was probably just off to a different place with some new friend he made and charmed the pants off of. It's no big deal. Everybody's having a good time.
Everybody was having a good time.
Now, he's been shuttled by taxi back to their newest hotel in their string of hotels over these past months of filming and stumbling into the lobby, falling into the elevator, and toddling toward his room as he shoves his hands in all his pockets, searching for wherever the hell he left that keycard. He's got it somewhere. It's a little hard to find, though, when his world is spinning off its axis and he's warm and loose with liquor. His fingers buzz and feel good, but can't really grab anymore.
It takes Anthony a few minutes, swaying in front of his door, to get into his room, but he does eventually. And, for another few minutes, he thinks that's it. That's all the fanfare for the evening, y'all. No more gaggles of lighting and film crews, no more well-meaning but pestering PAs, no more directors calling cut to confer, pressing their heads together like a two-headed expert, no more crowds of sweaty, writhing bodies, dancing, singing along to music loud enough to make his ears ring, rowdy shouts for "shots, shots, shots!" or cheering calls chug whatever is left in your glass. Just him and his hotel room.
After giving up on finding the lightswitch, Anthony's trying to figure out where the fuck his suitcase got dumped by one of the personal assistants without tripping over it or smacking into it first. Fuck it, he'll settle for just not smacking into the corners or walls, never mind his suitcase. It's fucking fine. He can just strip out of his shoes, socks, and pants, fiddling with his belt and dumb, drunk fingers, rip his shirt off, and he'll be good. The pile of clothes he leaves behind like a shedded snaked skin is sober Anthony's problem. That's a morning issue (just like the pounding headache he knows he'll have, but it's fine, tomorrow's Saturday anyhow).
But, his mission to get naked and fall into his hotel bed, ruining the nicely done sheets, and pass the fuck out is interrupted by two things that filter into his conception of the spinning world at once.
One) Someone is knocking? Hitting? Something? Squeak, squeak, squeak, it happens again and again and again. It's probably someone knocking on his fucking door at whatever ass o'clock it is but why the fuck now. It can't be call time already.
Two) His lights are on. Motion sensors? That, or, he hit a switch as he fell into the wall, slapping his hand out to catch himself. What the fuck.
While Anthony is trying to blearily figure out both of those things that hit him at once like a backhand across the drunk, uncoordinated face it comes to him. The understanding, that is.
Ah. Boom. Figured it out. Easy as shit. He's smart as fuck. There's an open door in his hotel room and Chris and Sebastian are fucking so hard that the bed over there, in that lights-on room, is hitting the wall.
Wait--
There's an open door in his hotel room?
Wait.
Chris and Sebastian are fucking?
They're fucking in his hotel room?
What.
Anthony reels back immediately after having just pushed off the wall in the first place, falling back against the drywall and slapping both hands palm-down onto the wall, needing support while his head spins faster than the world around him. He gawks at what he sees, blinking his blurry eyes hard, trying to figure out if what he's seeing it real.
Unfortunately for him, it is.
There's an open fucking door in his hotel room that leads straight to Chris and Sebastian in their room and Chris and Sebastian are all sorts of tangled up.
There's Chris, lazing back against the headboard of the bed. And there's Sebastian, straddling Chris' lap, his legs quivering, his arms trapped behind his back, caught in one of Chris' hands by the wrist, and his neck arched, head thrown back. Sebastian's bouncing in Chris' lap, moving so fast that he's really just a fucking blur of horny movement.
He's riding Chris hard.
So hard, that that's what the fucking noise is. Squeak. Squeak. Squeak. Their poor bed is screaming out for help under their enthusiasm, the springs squeaking beneath them, so loud they're nearly the same volume as Chris' voice, rumbling smooth and pressed into Sebastian's throat that's blushing bright pink and looks to have been mauled (oh my god, makeup is going to hate them). Sebastian throws himself into that too, not one to be outdone in his performance, and moans, guttural with its depth yet needy and high in pitch, "d-AH!-daddy!"
Anthony's eyes go so fucking wide they probably fucking bulge out of his head.
Oh. my. god.
This is blackmail material.
Anthony takes a single hysterical, terrible, hilarious second to recognize what the fuck he's seeing--the white-boy fuck he's seeing--and then, instantly, lurch forward the handful of steps he has to make it through, off-balance to get to the door. When he's finally close enough, Anthony slaps a hand out, gets it around the door handle, and slams that fucking door shut, sealing their rooms off from one another. Giving everyone the privacy they all desperately need.
Oh my god, he thinks again, dizzy.
Anthony ends up leaning back against the door he's just rushed to shut, needing support before he falls to the floor in a mess of drunken limbs and fucked-up reaction timing. His heart is beating out of his chest, double time with his alcohol-thinned blood rushing faster, faster, faster. It pumps loudly through his ears.
Chuckling in horror and pure hilarity, Anthony reconciles that he's never gonna fucking look either of them in the eyes ever. again.
What the hell.
He can't believe none of the staff thought to or paid enough attention to shut that door! What are the chances of that? That needs to be on the room clean-up checklist! What if there had been a fucking murderer next door? What if his suitcase and shit were dropped and the person next door just walked through a stole it? Also, fuck, he can't believe neither of them told him! Not the staff, but the idiots fucking next door. He's known Chris for, like, forever. Relationships--friends with benefits, serious, or otherwise--are important!
And, hold on, numbers zoom around in his head, too fast for his drunk ass--when did the first Captain America come out? When would that have been filmed then? How long ago was that? Did they start messing around then? It's gotta be right? And if it is, then it's been a good fucking while. Why wasn't he told? He wouldn't go gossiping, Chris knows that. He wouldn't loved to know. He would've cheered Chris on, he's cool, man. They're friends! Tight friends. That asshole, leaving him out of the loop.
Asshole is the wrong fucking insult to think of because then he's seeing the two of them together all over again in his head and hearing the noises Sebastian was making and, ugh, Anthony shakes his head to get rid of it only, leaning more so back up against the slammed-shut door, Anthony can hear them.
They're laughing.
They're laughing, those shameless motherfuckers.
Laughing and probably kissing because the sounds go quiet for a second but then they're back. And then Sebastian's distinctive, uncontrollable giggle that he gets going sometimes when he's tired and loopy and Chris is making dumb, shitty jokes is there. Half that giggle and half-gasping, moaning sounds that make Anthony have no choice but to pound on the door with his fist (which is probably the liquor talking, if he's honest, there are other options), shouting, "I'm gonna call the front desk and file a noise complaint, you loud fuckers! I swear to god! I am!" He's teasing and his voice is slurred from the drinks he had tonight, so there's no real threat, but it's annoying that those dicks (again, wrong fucking word for his mind's eye) don't take him seriously at all.
In fact, to make matters worse, Sebastian has the gall to sass him back through the wall, loud and almost joyful as he verbally sticks his tongue out at him, "m'kaa-ah!-yy! Mmm-hmm! You, you do that!" Reacting sharply, moaning-gasping more, to whatever Chris is doing to him.
Helplessly, Anthony laughs at him, shaking his head.
What is his life?
How did he get here?
Why are these his friends?
At least, for the most part, they do seem to try and keep it down as much as they can after that. No problem, though, Anthony is already planning to spend the time they keep him up workshopping all the embarrassing jokes he can make at their expense tomorrow. He can't wait to see their stupid faces when he knows and prods at them but no one else does. It's gonna be fucking hilarious. He's hilarious. He'll show 'em. Those assholes.
Bonus:
this video of Mackie [indirectly] calling them kinky
and this picture because it's so funny to me
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glisten-inthedark · 2 days
Text
Byler Analysis | A Master Analysis
Oh boy, this will be a long one but let's go.
In this analysis, I won't talk about lighting, or about pocket squares, arrows or rainbows. I will talk about only about what the show has showed and told us.
Because while I won't dispute that said lighting, blocking and signs might be important to the story, general viewers aren't aware of it and yet somehow they keep missing vital parts of the story.
The following points are those provided by us by the narrative, by what they show vs what they tell, so strap in because this is a long one. Some of these points have been brought up, actually I think most of them considering I'm new to the fandol but don't mind that.
Our first scene has the boys playing together, but only Will stays behind. It's important to note that while Will bikes away, Mike's eyes follow him as he leaves and he keeps on watching him, fact which is further proved by how the camera remains steady on him for a good while and just after cuts to Mike.
Mike is the first to notice how Will didn't show up at school, and two of his other friends didn't worry about it at first. Then, when Will's body is found, the reaction they choose to focus on it's Mike's. Which begs the question, why differentiate between reactions when all the boys care deeply about Will? Why is Mike's reaction more visceral, more aggressive? And more importantly, why follow him home where we can see him cry into his mother's arms? They didn't show us Lucas' reaction, or Dustin's, instead they focused solely on Mike. And yeah, you could argue that it's because he knew Will the longest, but then we remembered that according to Mike himself, he knew he loved El the moment he met her (I know that's BS, but bare with me for a second), so why wouldn't they show us him being that upset over her apparent demise? Yes, he asks them where she is but that's the only thing he does, and after he just keeps trying to contact her on his walkie but he never actively looks for her. We see that. We even see that he thinks he saw El at the school and yet dismissed it as his imagination.
Later, Mike would claim he never stopped looking for her but that's also not we actually saw. Yes, he called for her, but didn't actively look for her like we saw him do with Will.
There's a stark difference, because with Will he literally started a search party to look for him.
I'm not saying Mike doesn't care for El, of course he does and he always will, but it's not near the same vicinity of what we saw him do for Will and we can't pretend otherwise.
So, why was important that we followed Mike home as he comes to terms with Will's "death?"
It's one of the first signs that their friendship is different, more profound and of more significance.
3. Mike knew that Will was alive
I think most people don't realize that, but Mike knew, just like Joyce knew, that the body didn't belong to Will and he didn't even have the advantage of seeing said body.
They are the only two characters on the show that experience this level of connection to Will. One of them is a mother desperately looking for her child, the other is their best friend.
5. Mike's monologue to Will vs Mike monologue to El
By itself, it's easy to interpret Mike's monologue to Will as the act of a friend. But context is fundamental to storytelling.
Mike isn't the only friend Will has, Lucas and Dustin both care about him. But they made Mike the focus of that moment.
Why?
Bare in mind that all the people that are speaking to him are the people who love Will the most on the world. His mother, and his brother. It isn't just that these are people Will cares about, they are the people that care about him and that love him.
Again, Mike didn't need to be there. All the other boys were left behind, and yet, there was he.
Shouldn't we wonder why? Shouldn't we think about what was trying to be conveyed here?
Why is Mike different? Why is his voice that breaks Will out his trance? Why weren't all the other people that care about Will there too?
Why was it so vital that we saw Mike tell the story of when they met? Why wasn't Lucas there, or Dustin's?
Oh but that only proves they have a close relationship.
Sure, I'd buy that if it weren't for the fact that in season four, we are shown the opposite.
When confronted with his feelings - or lack thereof- Mike literally gaslights El, claiming he does say he loves her.
Later, in the actual scene, everything is pandemonium. El is chocking, the camera keeps showing us Will, there are multiple cuts that get us her reaction and Will's, and Mike hesitates.
The supposed love of his life is chocking to death and he hesitates. He's desperate, he wants to help but he can't, and the only thing that forces him is Will. He only says it because Will reminds him of the painting.
The more I think about that scene, the more contrived and nonsensical it becomes. Because look, I can be a pretty objective person, I can take my feelings out of the equation and state, confidently, that there's a contrast between Mike talking to Will vs him talking to El.
Another thing to note is that Mike doesn't hesitate to share about the brilliance that was meeting Will Byers. He doesn't have to think about or lie. He knows.
He tells the story of this little boy that was all alone, saw another boy on the swings, approached him and asked him to be his friend and how this boy said yes. But is not just that, is how making that decision turns out to be the best thing he's ever done.
He doesn't need to tell Will he loves him (in whichever way it is), it is evident that he does. Even it it's not romantic at the time.
When talking to El, he hesitates. He calls to her, doesn't use the words that he was meant to be using all along. It's only after Will tells him he's the heart that he does.
The contrast exists on the writing, on how things were edited and directed, and how the scenes land themselves.
You don't believe me? Watch them side by side.
The existence of Mike's monologue to El puts into perspective the existence of Mike's monologue to Will. In one, there's the presence of other people, a lot of cuts in between frames, there's the focus on someone that shouldn't even be there and above all else, there's a lie.
Mike didn't love El. He claims he knew then and there - the moment he met her - that he knew he loved her. But he couldn't have. Not when he was trying to send her away, not when the only reason he found her was because he was looking for Will.
But above all else. If that's the case, then choosing Will as a friend couldn't possibly be the best thing he's ever done, simply because the best thing he has ever done would have been harboring El, because he knew the moment he met her that he loved her. Or would've been any moment in which he could be with the supposed love of his life.
In the other, the light is deem, the focus is only on them, Mike tells this story and it's moved to tears by the sheer emotion of that moment.
If we treated Mike as himself and Will as a girl, the trope of true love that breaks the spell would be evident. Because that's what happens. Mike's love - in whichever capacity- breaks the trance.
6. The sudden and 180° shift in Mike's behavior from season 2 to season 3
I know that Mike has been acting well, how to put it nicely? Not like the Mike we met during season 1 and 2
And I particularly viewed that sudden as a combination of multiple things. Firstly, I believe Mike thinks he needs to grow up, and that involves leaving childish things behind.
He is trying to conform to the notions of masculinity, trying to adept himself to what he believes to be socially acceptable and that doesn't include spending time with his friends, one in particular.
But I truly believe that the main focus of Mike's behavioral shift lies in Eleven. He isn't aware of what he's doing, but his ovverfixation with her exists because of his mental state.
What happened in season one? Will got taken and El helped get him back.
What happened in season 2? Will got possessed and almost died, but El managed to shut the gate and save everyone.
But you know what else happened during that time? Mike was solely focused on Will. While yes, he was calling El, his only focus is on him.
Now, I can only guess and infere at this point because unfortunately we lost Mike's POV, but I believe that during the summer he started to figure out things about himself he wasn't ready to face yet, and the reason why he realized ironically lies between El and Will.
El brings Mike a sense of stability, of trust and reliability. At first, she makes him feel needed, but she also makes him feel safe.
As people, we tend to rely on what's safe. Most of anyone will safely not take the plunge, would rather be stuck on eternal revolving doors just so that they're safe.
It's a lot safer for a teenager to pretend.
To pretend that this is the life he chose, and he must commit to it. He compensates, and he deflects and projects because his mentality is all or nothing. He needs to like the girl, he needs to feel something for the girl because that's what everyone has been telling him.
And when he tells Will that is not his fault Will doesn't like girls it wasn't about Will. It's about projecting onto him everything he supposedly hates about himself.
And as El tells him he loves her and kisses her, he doesn't close his eyes and why wonders why is there this feeling of wrongness?
Because he doesn't want things to change. As he stares at that house, at the place full of memories, is not El he misses.
As he comes home and holds his mother, we get a full parallel to the first season. And I wanted to point out, that at both points he believes he lost Will.
In the first to death. In the second, to a different life.
And as he holds his mom, Mike almost seems... Numb. Like he shut down all high level functioning so he won't break down.
7. How Mike and El's relationship is structured
I would be saying this even if I wasn't a shipper, but it's clear that the writers themselves made a point of showing that whatever Mil*even has, isn't love.
When Mike lies to El about Hopper, it isn't to protect her feelings. It's to protect himself.
And when El lies to Mike, it isn't so he wouldn't worry, it's to put up a front. It's so she can pretend that she's normal and that she isn't a monster. She isn't a monster, but somehow he doesn't make her feel like he accepts her as well.
Now, let's compare this to Jancy. We know that Jonathan doesn't intend on telling Nancy about college because he knows she'd come with him and he doesn't want to hold her down. He wants her to be happy, above all else, even if it breaks his heart.
That is love.
Love is wanting the other person to be happy and accepting that they might not be happy with you.
Now, does that sound familiar? Well, it should.
Because it's exactly what Will does. He lies because he loves Mike and he doesn't think his words would matter, so like Cyrano de Bergerac, he treats what he says as words from El.
And I know some people would claim Will deserves better than Mike, but the thing is... While Mike made mistakes, we are shown that whenever Will is concerned, he apologizes for those. He admits he's wrong, he knows he shouldn't have done.
Mike acting like an ass sometimes doesn't suddenly erase every good thing he's ever done. And we don't love people who deserve it, that's not how it works. We don't choose who we love, love isn't a button you can turn on and off whenever it's convenient and only when the other person deserves it. Love is so much more complicated than that. Like, scholars have been trying to explain, quantify and apply rationality to it for ages, it hasn't worked so far for a reason.
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callmearcturus · 1 day
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redoing this ask because fuck that poll lmaoooo i have a persona question, IMO persona's romance system can sometimes fail when its clear the devs wanted one character to be the "canon" love interest for the overall story, but added in side romances to please fans (p2 with [spoiler redacted], p3 with aigis, and p4 with rise based on how much time is focused on their dynamic and bond) but i feel like P5 *intended* for Makoto to be the go-to romance option (especially with how she was handled in the anime) but Royal switched it to Akechi. Do you think that Persona should just stick with one romance option, have a small number of options that they develop, or have it be "every npc is an option" type deal. personally i think it depends on the game? but i feel as if P5 would have benefited from only having 5 romance options (Haru, Makoto, Akechi, Hifumi, and maybe Yusuke?)
Hmmmmm.
It's hard to consider this without also thinking about the other dating sim RPGs, i.e. Bioware. What's interesting there is that some of the romances felt intended (Liara in Mass Effect especially) but there were multiple really good options.
What I find interesting is how Persona and Bioware games handle the shared authorship of the characters. There's an entire Game Maker's Toolkit video about how the narrative designers had to design on a tightrope, keeping the cinematic nature of the story rolling but also making the player feel like they had a handle on the direction (even when the latter was mostly imagined).
Okay, here's two weird thoughts:
The wide array of Persona romances are pretty shallow and would benefit from a shift to much fewer romances that are far more fleshed out.
Akechi is so shocking and compelling because the comparative shallowness of the other romances, because he is a subversion of them.
To me, what makes Akechi the far-and-away best 'romance' of Persona 5 Royal is that he's not a romance 'option.' The player has very little agency over how Joker feels about Akechi. If you hit a couple of flags, then Joker is fucked up and in love with Akechi. That's just it. Maruki gives everyone what they want, and what Joker wants is Akechi.
The fact that Joker is a partially player-directed character that autonomously decides to be in love with Akechi is the secret sauce, imo. Ergo, if you improve the romances overall, you lose some of the specialness inherent in Akechi.
I had a LOT of problems with P5R's writing and especially its structure. I would remove Makoto entirely but for pacing issues, not for the strength of her writing. I'd cut a lot of cruft from the game.
I don't know if I would take away the gutpunch of Akechi though. Not for P5R. For other Persona games, 100% yes, I would. Narrow the scope of romances, maybe even stick just to party members so its easier to build a coherent, meaningful narrative with the love interest.
i hope some of that makes sense, i'm a bit sick and meandering today
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quirrrky · 5 hours
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—•✦ STUPID CUPID! 
BOKUTO's got it all, but while all his friends have special someone in their lives, all thanks to him, he was left single and alone until that one accidental night ‧˚꒰happy birthday, bokuto!! 🥳꒱༘⋆
3k+ f!reader, accidental marriage, suggestive
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Bokuto “The Volleyball Hero” was the center of MSBY Jackals. He got special interviews, merch of his own and even a vlog series for god’s sakes. He seemed like he’s the most fortunate among the members, but little to what the outsiders know, he was the most envious. 
“I hope you both fulfill the love, family and happiness you're dreaming of,” Kenma called for a toast for his newly wed best friend and his wife. 
Everyone around Bokuto was getting married, engaged or partnered up.
Let’s not go anywhere far. Just take Kuroo right there who was so busy sneaking kisses from his bride from time to time.  
Not long ago, he was single as a pringle like Bokuto too. Man had casual to shallow relationships but nothing’s ever going anywhere, until that day Bokuto brought him as a plus-one at a wedding. Kuroo hit it off with another plus-one who’s not even related to the couple. It was love at first sight according to him, and now, he’s the one getting married.  
Bokuto was left single.  
He took a deep breath and saw his kouhai, Akaashi. Since he had been an athlete, he seemed to see his junior less. Excitement brewed inside him only to turn cold right away as he watched one of MSBY’s road managers lace her fingers with Akaashi’s. Yeah, it was all because of Bokuto’s meddling as well.  
Akaashi was an editor of a Volleyball-centric manga and he needed Bokuto’s insights back then and so Bokuto gave one of MSBY’s road managers as contact person to communicate with Akaashi. Now, they were set to get married next year too. 
A long sigh escaped through him. Everywhere he looked, everyone was happily in the arms of another. He slumped his shoulders. What’s so good about romance and relationships anyway? It’s not as if it’s as fun as Volleyball.  
He pouted.  
Bokuto was jealous, seething envious.  
He wanted someone to give him a loooong kiss after winning a match just like Atsumu and his fiance. He imagined someone would call him long-distance whenever he’s away like how his pretty manager would do for Akaashi. He would very much love to look at someone and laugh with her like the world only belongs to the two of them just as how much Kuroo was having the time of his life right now with the love of his life. 
All of them happened because of him yet he was left all by himself.  
Tears triggered to fall from his eyes, but he swallowed every drop of them in. He was genuinely happy for his friends, and he wished, with all his heart, that their relationships would be successful and fulfilling.  
Perhaps, he’s lucky in Volleyball but totally sucks in love. This is life. You can't have it all. So he won’t. That simple.  
All night long, Bokuto partied like an animal he never was. He drank all the hard liquor together with the bitter truth that he’s the fun single uncle his nephews and nieces would love to play with.  
“Bokuto-san, you've had enough! That’s- that’s too much!” He heard Akaashi called out to him, but he didn’t care.  
Curse all the gods! All this time he was playing cupid to all his friends and now he’s the one without anyone.  
“F@#k you!” He shouted to the heavens. Big F to that dumbass Cupid! He had been doing that loser’s job all along yet he ain’t having any reward. Asshole better train. He’d been missing his arrows when it came to him. “Aaarghh! Fu-” 
Bokuto clasped on his chest. A strong sting came right through and, all of a sudden, he bumped onto someone. He looked back and a shroud of white flooded his vision.  
Is he dead? 
But how can he hear birds chirping?  
Are there birds in heaven?  
Well, there can’t be any in hell so he’s lucky he’s in heaven.  
Bokuto opened his eyes as he slowly brought himself to sit upright. He rubbed the sleep off and took in his surroundings. Fancy room. He thought. Was this his apartment in heaven? 
He glanced at his side, and he marveled at the ethereal being he saw. Must be an angel. A smile appeared across his face. He’s so lucky to wake up next to an angel, indeed. Itching, he poked a finger on her cheek.  
Her eyes gradually opened, and he sure heard a chorus sang in his ears by how beautiful she was. She got up, wearing a large white tee, which looked immaculate on her by the way. She didn’t need wings to fly. She had already taken flight in Bokuto’s head.  
Wait! Was this even true? You blinked twice. Thrice. Four times.
"B-Bokuto..." Your eyes widened. He’s shirtless, looking so hot this early in the morning beside you in bed... 
Last night... 
You inspected your clothing which gave out every sign of intimacy and if you were right...
"Y/N!" It finally registered in his head! He's still alive and it was you? He studied you closely, taking in your swollen lips, flushed cheeks and beautifully disarrayed hair. You're lovely. You're still an angel regardless if he's just dreaming.
Who thought you were this pretty all along! Bokuto's the type of guy who could never take a hint unless you initiate and you...You never initiate nor flirt with him obviously that's why he'd never really see, consider you in that way.
Maybe it wasn't Cupid's fault, it's his. An angel was just around him but he always failed to notice.
Gulping the thick lump in your throat, if you would remember correctly...
You turned to the bedside table on your left. Surprise coloring your expression as you take the paper on the table. 
It was a dream. It was a dream. It was a dream.  
But no. 
Bokuto took a long read at the paper you were holding.  “W-Wait- We are...” 
“Yes.” 
You were, indeed, married to Bokuto Koutaro.  
One of the guests at Kuroo’s wedding was a government employee, who had the authority to officiate a marriage with just a stamp and now... 
“Semi!” Bokuto proclaimed. “It’s him! What happened?” he asked. “How?” 
You blushed. You’d rather not recall what happened last night which was a bit clear for you unlike Bokuto who was totally clueless. You snuck a glance at him. He’s so comfortable in his own skin, attractive mire than he knows it, and you were flustered, seeing him half uncovered.  
“I-I-I guess we better get dressed first!” 
“Oh! Yeah!” He agreed and stood up. The blanket slipped off his body completely, unraveling what’s left unraveled that had your eyes popping at the sight in front of you. “I’m sorry! I'm sorry!” 
You turned away red-faced. 
You were the content creator especially assigned by the JVA to Bokuto. Since he had a strong clout and they can utilize it to promote volleyball, he had exclusive interviews and vlog series, which were something you were doing for him.
You probably know Bokuto more than himself by now with all the research you've done about him and with all the time you spent with each other.
Since you were assigned to him, your career was centered around him, which was your entire life right now. You would be lying if you'd say you didn't find him attractive at all. You may have quite a soft spot for him you kept on burying to death, keeping things professional between you two until last night. If there's something aside from volleyball he's a pro at it's definitely...
You shook your head. You shouldn't be thinking these things.
Once dressed, you both decided to seek Kuroo's help. After all, the newly kept hinself sober last night.
“So we got married at the same day, huh?” Kuroo told Bokuto while waiting for Semi on the phone. The two of them talked over the guy in question to seek for a solution.
Apparently, according to Semi, divorce was the easiest method since annulment would be pricier. 
“He said we have to divorce,” Bokuto informed you. Now, this part came with a little bit of disappointment for him. “The papers will come in a month or few.” 
He was lowkey sad. He got his chance for a love life only to be taken away in a snap.
"No worries," you said. "I can wait."
Somehow, you shared the same sentiments as him. Despite your close relationship professionally, you'd want to get to know him more...personally—not as an athlete, but as an individual.
You were about to exit the hotel but a small commotion suddenly made its way towards you.
The reporters and vloggers were quick to pick up on the news, and as soon as someone saw you both together, they all approached with questions.
Bokuto couldn’t lie as he was actually proud and happy to have you, while you were worried that your accidental marriage might affect his image and sponsorship.  
You tightly held onto his hand and looked at him. He leaned down and you whispered. “I can be your wife.” His eyes grew in surprise. “For a while.”  
An ecstatic grin appeared on his face. Who would’ve thought he’d be so lucky? He got an angel as his wife, though he felt so stupid not to realize how good of a match you two would make until something unforeseenike this would happen.
Bokuto's quick to pull you close to him and he proudly announced that he’s officially a married man. You couldn’t help but feel the same happiness he was radiating. You giggled just watching him. He glanced back at you, eyes watering with gratitude. 
“You’re the best!” 
Sure, he already said that to you a hundred of times, but there's something about the way he said it this time that made it different.
•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•
You both agreed to live together in the meantime since people’s noses would be up his business. Also, soon, he’d be away for overseas training so it wouldn't be much of a big deal.  
Bokuto took his role as a husband very seriously though. He’d welcome you with a big tight hug whenever he’d come home from practice. After all, you have already done more than that the very first time you got re-acquainted.  
You’d spend the rest of the day eating and doing chores together. Some nights, you’d be playing card games and watching movies together just like two best friends, enjoying each other’s company in cold nights. 
“There you go! Catch him! Go!” Bokuto screamed at the TV.  
“Uhm...I think that’s the killer though,” you pointed out. “He’s chasing after the victim.” 
Bokuto stopped, stupefied. Damn! How could he look so much like a loser in front of you. You just laughed at him. It was not mocking, rather it was very endearing. Just watching you laugh sort of made him much bubblier too.  
Silly! He was so silly. He laughed at himself and you both shared that small but warm moment. It felt so good he didn’t want it to end. 
Aaaargh! He was truly an idiot for realizing that you were there right beside him all along and he kept his sights to non-sense pursuits. It didn't matter now what mattered the most was he got you right with him at this very moment.
Days turned into a week and it’s time for his overseas training. Bokuto felt a little off. Everybody could tell that he wasn't his usual chirpy self. He got so used to being around you that not having you in a day made him lose all balance in spirits. A pout never left his face the entire flight.  
They took a break from practice and his teammates were teasing each other when his phone rang. Lazily, he looked into it and his face lit up when he saw it was you.  
“Y/N! It’s youuu!” He exclaimed with enthusiasm. “You called!” 
“Of course,” you said. “You were away so I thought I might check up on you.” 
Timezones had it. It was during this time when you’d both watch your favorite show together, so it reminded you of him. And...maybe a day without him was something so new now for you.  
His smile stretched from ear to ear. “I never thought you would! It’s great to hear your voice.” 
You giggled from the other line.  
“Me too.” 
“Will you call me tomorrow before the game too?” His tone was almost pleading. 
“Sure,” you said, rolling all over the bed like a giddy high school girl.  
“Yes! How ‘bout even after the game? Then the next day?”  
“I would. Everyday.” 
Atsumu quirked up an eyebrow, watching Bokuto go from zero to a hundred. Just what kind of vitamins did he take just now to be so bolstered up at an instant like that.  
“What’s with him?” The blonde asked his teammates. 
Hinata scooted close to Atsumu and whispered like a gossiping old lady. “Y/N...” 
“Ohhhh...” Tsumu reacted as they talked about Bokuto and his express wedding setup, but the person in topic had all his ears on you over the phone.  
Distance didn't matter between the two of you. He enjoyed listening and talking to you over the phone. It also made coming home more exciting. He never felt this way before.  
“Y/N!” Bokuto announced, arriving home. You turned in anticipation and he copped you in his arms and twirled you around like a Disney princess.  
You were in a fit of laughter and he simply found joy in your happiness.  
“Miss you so much!” He hugged you super tight, rubbing his cheek against yours. 
“Me too! Me too! I stopped watching the series because I’m waiting for you.” 
“Oh, Y/N!” he exclaimed then remembered, “I smelled like airplane! I better take a bath first before we get back to episode 7.” 
You laughed and he headed off to the bathroom, while you set aside his luggage and kept some of his stuff.   
“Y/N! My angel!” he called from inside the bathroom and you covered your face. He was always so cheesy like that even if it’s just you two and you’re still not used to it. “I forgot to bring my towel with me.” 
You grabbed his towel and knocked on the door. He partially opened the door, showing you a glimpse of his well-toned abs and a slight peek at his bare pelvis and legs. You reached the towel to him not looking at back at his direction.  
“Are you embarrassed?” he asked, curiously. 
“Y-Yes,” you admitted, flushed to the neck. “Are you not?” 
“Why would I?” Bokuto wrapped the towel around his waist. “I believe I look good,” he said. “The same as you.” 
“W-What?” Your face heated up profusely.  
“I think you look good with or withou-”  
“Stop!” You ran away, diving into your bed and hiding under the blankets. You knew you couldn’t say no if he’d ever make a move. Under the context of your agreement, you were married..for a while. You also live uder one room, so the possibility of that is highly likely.  
You heard his steps getting closer. He sat beside you and lifted the blanket, revealing your bashful self underneath.  
He giggled. “You’re just so cute. Do you know that?” His face inched closer to yours. He kissed your nose and you closed your eyes. Next thing you knew, he had already captured your lips. His arms now caging you as you got lost, fallen under his spell.  
His eyes were so loving when you’re under him. Peeling you off from where you hide, his smiled like he couldn’t believe what he’s seeing. “You look so good. So good just like how I thought.” 
Right then and there, you allowed yourself to believe him and get swept away.  
•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•
Koutaro usually comes home early but he was getting home a little late recently. You were glancing at the clock when the doorbell rang and you thought it was him. He probably left his keys again. You headed towards the door and opened it. 
“Mail for Bokuto Koutaro-san,” the mail man informed and you signed the receiving form.
You read the delivery details attached on the envelope. 
From: Semi Eita 
You gasped. 
Divorce papers. You knew this would be the divorce papers you and Koutarou requested when you initially found out that you got married by accident.  
And you remembered that this setup was only for a while.  
Your heart ached so suddenly. You didn’t want this to end. You didn't want you and Kotarou to end. You might not start the way normal couples do, what you had for him was real. At least, for the few months you spent with each other, it seemed so real. But was it ever real for him too? 
You must’ve prepared yourself when you agreed to this arrangement. 
Tears crawled down your cheeks. You’re in love with Koutarou, but you must do the right thing.  
The door to your, no, his apartment opened. “Y/N, my angel! I’m back hooome! Where are you?” Bokuto excitedly announced, but his face dropped to be welcomed by your crestfallen face. “What happened? Why are you...” 
You wiped your tears away and forced a smile. “No, this...is just...nothing. Nothing really!”  
He sat beside you. Before he could even tease you, you handed over the envelope to him. 
You heard the material being torn open as you focused your vision to your hands on your lap.  
Several scenarios played in your head. It’s either he’d play it cool because all this time he knew what he’s singing for, and all this was just a random episode in his life—something he could easily shrug off. The other one was the probability that he loved you the same, but he wouldn’t want to ruin the agreement between you and him, so he’d gladly set you free. 
You weren’t prepared for this. Could you ask for one more night, days, weeks, months, years with him? Would he allow that? Do you really have the courage to ask that of him? But you knew your heart would be broken into shards once he rejected you.  
Your mind spiralled out of control.  
“Is this...why you’re sad, Y/N?” he asked, full of concern. You couldn’t lie about that. “Actually, I asked Semi about this. I really wanted to divorce you immediately.”  
You pinched close your eyes and gripped the fabric of your skirt. 
“But seeing that this got you sad, I guess, I better tell the truth.” He took your hand and cupped it between his. “I want us to divorce so I can do things properly.”  
You raised your head to look at him.  
He knelt down on the floor and brought your hand over his cheek.  “Oh, how could I even hurt you? It’s my fault I made you cry like this.” 
“Koutaro...” you mumbled in confusion. 
“My friends are helping me plan things. Kuroo even helped me pick, but this couldn’t wait.” Scurrying inside his pocket, he pulled out a box, flipped it open and revealed a diamond ring. “I want to marry you properly, Y/N.” 
Your tears of sadness were replaced with pleasant surprise. Your hands flew to your mouth.  
“Now, this wasn’t as grand as we are thinking of but...” His lips quivered and soon he joined you in sobbing. “I can’t afford to see you crying. I can’t break up with you, Y/N. Ilove you. You’re my angel. How can I survive knowing that I let you fly away?” 
You lovingly laughed at his signature dramatics and you knelt beside him, engulfing him in a warm embrace. “I love you, too, Koutaro.” You parted a little, looking him in the eye. “I’ll marry you.” 
He burst out in happiness as you giggled like pre-school kids encountering the magic of puppy love.  
Bokuto recalled wishing for this not a while back...To laugh like the rest of the world doesn't matter just like Kuroo and his wife back then when you two first met.  
Now, he’s got a wife too.
Maybe it wasn't Cupid who was stupid all along. Maybe it was him. The love of his life was always right in front of him yet he failed to notice.
Thanks to Cupid for doing his job at last. He finally struck an arrow to the woman Bokuto could never live without. 
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@pixelcafe-network
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hrizantemy · 5 months
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Stop guys I really want an older Archeron sister who sticks up for Nesta, who doesn’t let the IC lock her in the house and refuses it and instead takes her in herself, she doesn’t excuse Nesta’s wrongdoings but she doesn’t blame everything on her, she’s patient and works through it, bonus if they run away to the summer court and she ends up with Tarquin. Like y’all know they would be a power couple, new fanfiction idea, guys Nesta needs an older sibling who knows what she’s going through and they lean on each other. Y’all ain’t ready for this one.😭😭😭😭🙏
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heybiji · 3 months
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Roshan walks with the two Potts, gazing around at the fields and forests painted in warm colors by the setting sun. He remarks, "It is a lovely view from here."
Gazing outward, past the broken walls he had put up 20 years ago, Arthund nods and says, "Forgot. Forgot how... how pretty it all is."
I recently finished running an original oneshot for some friends, The Reaching Woods. It was a story about a little village surrounded by a big wall and the nearby forest's sudden overgrowth threatening to crush it all. It was also a story about blame and guilt.
Arthund Potts, when we met him, could barely speak at all. Too many years spent drinking and weeping. If he was even conscious he was all grunts and sloppy gestures. The scene above was at the end of the oneshot (okay, eighteenshot), once the party returned from the dark, evil woods.
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torchstelechos · 23 days
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Genuinely think there should be an AU/fanfic where the party post-canon end up in another time craft bullshit wish and end up back in Dormont except there's past version of themselves also right there so the post-canon party have to like, explain what happens to pre-canon party. The mental image of Post-Canon Siffrin looking at Pre-Canon Siffrin is amazing, imagine the angst but also unhinged levels of OH IM LOOP NOW :D!!! I think it would be sssuuuuuuppppeeerrrrrr funny
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venomgaia · 1 year
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Guys that go bump in the night
(minorly inspired by @karniss-bg3 's response to this ask)
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Lily and Regulus: *dancing together on a table wildly while drunk* James: *watching avidly* Sirius: oooh who are you watching so intensely Prongs Remus, chuckling: oh I think I know Sirius, following James' gaze and laughing: watching Lily I see Peter: not the only person he's watching Sirius: Remus: James: Sirius: what does he mean by that James?
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akkivee · 11 months
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i’m so stoked to see they’re still in their new outfits!!!!!!!
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helpimstuckinafandom · 4 months
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Me starting another bg3 run where I will make virtually all the same decisions in mostly the same order as if there isn't different branching paths
#the horrifying idea of things going differently if i choose something different#my ass sitting here wanting other content for it as if i'm not actively refusing to make the choices to get other content#i've still only romanced astarion bro#i had my og. the EXACT copy of my og but durge this time.#began a karlach run to romance wyll and am still in early act 1 so nothing will happen for a long ass time#and i left that because i missed my paladin. the party feels incomplete without them bro#started a rogue/fighter run of one of my ocs retrofitted into the game.#but also am incapable of staying true to the character cause i'll miss stuff if i do and i need to do EVERYTHING explore EVERYWHERE#nearly couldn't get over the hurdle of having no strength and no speak with animals (so karlach and wyll gotta speak to critters)#then just started a sorcerer to try to really push myself to branch out. but all it did was reaffirm that being a spell caster sucks#no jump cause no strength no health no armour no decent melee. like motherfucker pick a struggle#luckily that oc is into music so sorcerer-bard here we come#but every single one of these bitches is good aligned#(and anything i SHOULD do different i don't cause there's still different varoeties of good but alas)#still haven't romanced another party member (but that's not ENTIRELY my fault!!!!)#my og/og durge was the same person i couldn't just romance someone else. they got with astarion i don't make the rules#karlach WILL romance wyll if i ever get farther in#my rogue/fighter oc is heading the baldur's gate for his boyfriend and they have an open relationship so he COULD fuck other people#alas he would never due to his own issues#BUT THIS WILL CHANGE#my sorcerer/bard (who is the boyfriend of the rogue. just imagining the plot as if he was on the adventure or rogue was in baldur's gate)#and he WOULD fuck other people no strings attached#so my goal is to fuck all potentially non-monogamous party members#so lae'zel shadowheart astarion#wyll is a slow burn so that's emotional depth we wouldn't put in#gale is king or monogamy (plus him and this character together would make the rogur pass the fuck out)#karlach is complicated because of the no touch thing? hard to say how much emotional depth ends up required there#meanwhile shadowheart has mentioned she does no strings attached hook-ups#lae'zel propositions you ten seconds in for a good tumble#and from romancing astarion i know fucking the first time seems like it'll just be casual hook up time and i needn't go further
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