#it says volumes that he was willing to do anything for his court and to get who he thought was his love back

[bindinglove]

tamlin is objectively a good high lord and his crash out after his new and tentatively stable court was destroyed is completely understandable and i would probably do the same thing

[snoopyana]

one night.

the sequel.

“can i be with you just one night? i can wear you out inside.”

in which you meet eunseok at a basketball game, after your boyfriend, wonbin, left you alone during a heated argument— and eunseok swoops in to temporarily take his spot.

song eunseok. smut. darkish? eunseok drops his whole “i care for you” facade and blames you for the whole situation in the end.

everyone knew what was going on behind the bleachers. it wasn’t necessarily a private place to argue. definitely not to argue about you eyeing his teammates a bit too long for wonbins liking. you had no ill intention behind your gaze, but he thought otherwise. his voice gradually rising in volume when you denied having any interest in any of the other guys. it was almost as if he wanted to say you had a thing for his members.

“oh my god, what’s your problem??” you cut the man off mid-sentence. the bickering had gone on for so long that his members would peek their heads in to make sure anything was alright. “my problem? my problem is how you were basically glazing them with your eyes.” that was far from the truth, and he knew it. wonbin only said that once he finally saw the other men listening in.

“are you SERIOUS right now? you ASKED me to come and watch you guys practice and that’s what i’m doing. do you expect me to only look you? god forbid i’m not an airhead all the time and actually act interested in what’s happening around me??” wonbin stared at you dumbfounded. his eyes blown, fist clenched. “i’m done.” walking past his teammates, he snatched up his duffel bag before storming out the gym.

rubbing your temple, you finally let go of your emotions. eyes stinging as the argument looped in your mind. “oh my fucking god.” slipped past your lips as you made your way from underneath the bleachers. quickly being were surrounded by the rest of his team and bombarded with “are you okay?” which only tipped you over the edge. going from a small stream running down your cheeks to full crocodile tears.

their words quickly turning into hesitant hugs as you broke down in the middle of the court. eunseok lead you over back to the bleachers, this time to sit down and most importantly — calm down. the others stood in a semicircle around you two. you face falling into the palms of your hands as you continued your small emotional crisis. silence followed as eunseok rubbed your back, the others standing there simply for emotional relief. looking at their phones, sungchan was the first to speak up.

“hey, we gotta get going. but if you ever need anything, i’m pretty sure we’d all be willing to help. right? just call or text.” his sentence was followed by a bunch of “mhms” and head nods. stepping over to your side, sungchan ruffled your hair before walking to pick up his stuff. signaling for the rest to follow. “you coming eunseok?” anton turned back to you two, realizing eunseok was still seated. “no, she still needs a way to get home, wonbin had driven them here and clearly he left already.”

nodding his head, anton waved goodbye to his friend, giving you another glance before letting the door close behind him. the buzz from the overhead lights and your sniffles echoed through the open area. he continued to draw circles on your back until light cries and sniffles turned into light breathing. searching his pockets, eunseok pulled out his phone. ‘8:46PM’ stared back at him. it had been close to an hour since wonbin stormed out, and 20 minutes since the boys left.

as he looked at his screen, he could feel your body shift. finally lifting your head up from your hands — glancing over, eunseok put his phone down to move small pieces of hair that stuck to your face. wiping your cheeks with the back of his hand as well. “you alright now? i can take you home or we can just sit a little longer.” moving his hand from your back to your shoulder. “i don’t wanna,” you spoke in between sniff ,” see him right now.” it had completely slipped his mind, you two lived together. “oh yeah, sorry. i can just drive you around if you want.”

giving him a quick nod, eunseok helped you to your feet — slipping his hand around your waist as he led you out the building and into the parking lot. opening the passenger door for you, he made sure you were situated before going to his respective seat. starting the vehicle, the first part of the drive was filled with silence and eunseok making random turns as you stared out the window.

“so,” he finally decided to break the silence after nearly 10 minutes, “what happened back there?” coming to a stop, the red from the light illuminated your face. “he was being fucking stupid. saying i was ‘checking you guys out’ when i was just watching.” huffing, you let your head fall back onto the seat. “like does he not trust me around other dudes or something? but if i started to act like that when he’s around women i’d be in the wrong!” crossing your arms under your chest as you thought about the whole situation. tears threatening to roll down your face for the second time tonight. “hey its okay, calm down.” reaching over, he rubbed your leg — thinking nothing of it for the time being.

“god. i swear he just wants me to cheat or something.” looking ahead, you took notice to eunseoks’ now still hand. eyes darting over to him, his eyes were glued to the road. “what’s stopping you?” the question caught you by surprise. “because i..”

you wanna say love him. don’t you?

eunseok pulled into a vacant lot. “because you what? you love him?” he was now facing you, waiting for a response. eunseoks hand lingering on your thigh. you sat in silence.

spit it out. you don’t. at least not right now.

“no. i.. i don’t.” humming in response, eunseok leaned over the center console. lips ghosting yours. he stayed like that in silence, his eyes glued to your lips. you were quick to close the distance. lips colliding with his.

when was the last time you felt this way? this desperate. how would wonbin feel if he saw you right now?

eunseoks hands found their way your neck, pushing you closer into him. his lips curling into a smile when you whined. pulling away, a quiet snicker slipped from his lips as you caught your breath. eyes blown and lips already puffy. “get in the back.” opening the car door, eunseok walked to the back while you quickly crawled through the center. once he was seated, he tapped his lap — which you eagerly sat down in. thighs on the sides of his while his arms stretched over your waist.

it’s not too late to stop you know.

pushing the thoughts to the back of your mind, his lips found their way back to yours. feeling a little more relaxed, arms wrapping around his neck. a few minutes passed before the sound of your phone buzzing snapped you out of your trance. reaching for your purse, eunseok started to grind his hips into yours.

it’s him, isn’t it?

guilt started to kick in, this is cheating. “he’s asking where i am..” looking at eunseok, your eyes quickly started to gloss over. “tell him you went to a friends house. he doesn’t need to know you’re with me.” there was hesitation in your eyes, but you did as he said. throwing your phone to the side, his lips found yours again. a slight tremble in your touch while your hands snaked through his hair, and he noticed. his hand slipped under your shirt, massaging the skin — while his other cupped your cheeks.

it felt so intimate. would wonbin do this? did wonbin do this?

that feeling would quickly fade as eunseoks’ once gentle hands roughly pulled at your jeans. helping him, you tugged at the material, pushing it down until they laid on the car seat. pushing you to sit on his knees, the man pulled his sweats down just enough for his dick to spring up. “come on, we gotta make it quick.”

he seemed so much pushier now, what happened?

shuffling up to his lap once more, eunseok spits in his palm. giving his cock a few pumps before tapping onto your thighs — causing your body to automatically hover over his. lining himself up, the male pushed you down onto his hard-on. the stretch being even more intense from the lack of prep.

seems like he doesn’t care anymore.

he was now buried deep inside your cunt, giving you the bare minimum of time to adjust before snapping his hips into yours. eunseoks head resting in the nook of your neck — biting at the skin. “hey, no.. no marks.” but did he listen? of course not. biting harder as his pace increased. he didn’t even bother to talk to you. wasn’t this supposed to be distressing you? why aren’t you enjoying it as much now?

he was quick to finish, pulling out and jerking his way to his own climax. but you hadn’t reached yours. opening your mouth to speak, your words were cut off before they could even come out. “he’s outside, hurry up and get out so you can go home.” pushing your body onto the seat next to him, eunseok was quick to stuff himself back into his pants. opening the car door, wonbin stood just outside. eunseok slipped out, standing next to the other male. a small smile plastered on his lips — your lip gloss coating his face.

“this is your fault by the way. should have gone home.”

note- hii. i wanted to try and venture out of my comfort zone a little with my writing style AND themes. nothing too intense for now. i kinda liked writing this though. i will say it’s not one of my best works but hey, we live and we learn. if you guys enjoyed, please do tell me. i’d love to hear some feedback. also, can we tell i’m a little head-over-heels for car sex? like woah.

note 2- ALSO, took me less than 10 days to write another fic? are we proud of me guys? i feel like thats an accomplishment, im getting more confident in my craft.

[apomaro-mellow]

Every Baby Needs a Daddy 17

Part 16

Eddie's chin was perched on Steve's shoulder, reading through the contents of the letter. There was a bunch of legal jargon that went over his head, but it was purely the fact that his parents sent it that document that spoke volumes about the kinds of people they were. Eddie also took to heart that fact Steve hardly ever mentioned them.

"And what exactly are they asking you to 'cease and desist'?" It was too early in the morning for such small print and lawyer-language. Eddie rubbed his eyes.

"Nothing they haven't said before. "I'm an embarrassment to them and they want me to stop."

Eddie hugged Steve from behind and kissed his shoulder. Then he kissed the back of his neck. As he did, he pulled the letter from his hand and then kissed his cheek.

"I'll let my people look over this, but there's no way they can order you to do anything. And if they keep bothering you, we can counter-sue for harassment."

Steve turned around in his arms and smiled. "You'd sue my parents for me?"

"Anything for my baby. I'd keep them wrapped up in court dates for years."

No one bothered his baby. Especially when he wasn't doing anything wrong. Just the idea of Eddie doing so made Steve swoon a little. This was exactly what he had dreamed of. Being scooped up from his humdrum life, filled with stress and anxiety and disappointment and being embraced by someone not just willing to love on him, but take care of him. Steve hadn't worried about a single bill since he and Eddie got together. The amount of times he'd pulled out his own money to pay could be counted on one hand.

"Hmm, I think we'll let them squirm a bit", Steve finally decided. "They don't get to stamp their feet after ignoring me for years."

And so, the letter was pretty much ignored in favor of other things going on. Steve didn't make any effort to be seen less in public. If anything, he was seen more, on the arm of someone from Corroded Coffin. Steve thought he'd be bothered by being photographed all the time. And while it was odd (he didn't know what the fuss was about him and Gareth looking at stationary) so far no one had caught him in any sort of compromising position.

He and Eddie had fucked in the backseat during a car wash and the most provocative picture the tabloids had was one of Eddie's nose buried in his neck, one squeezing his behind as they tried to do a quick makeout in an alley.

And any negative comments were not only drowned out by the positive ones, but they were also easy to ignore when he had a pack of men showering him with adoration.

One night, his parents called and while Steve would rather not been bothered with them, he felt like a shield was cast over him while he was cuddled up to Eddie on one side and the rest of his pack sitting around the living room. So this time, he answered.

"Hello mother."

"You think you're funny, don't you? You think this is all a joke? Have you even thought about us once? Honestly, every morning I wake up thinking there's going to be a picture of you with your pants down or you on your knees or some other-I just don't know where we went wrong with you Steven but this is truly unacceptable."

"What exactly is unacceptable about all of this? What do you actually know about it?"

Eddie muted the tv and gestured for Steve to put her on speaker so that they could all hear. Steve did and his mother's voice sounded around the room.

"We know you're running around with a bunch of musicians, doing god knows what, probably drugs and ruining our family name. Do you know how many times Irene Netting has had something to say about you? I swear the woman has no life but I can't refute the facts she's telling about you."

"You never bothered to get the facts from me", Steve said.

"Did you read the terms in our letter?"

"You mean the cease and desist order?"

"You are going to stop besmirching the Harrington name. By any means necessary. And if that means we have to drag you back home, well, thankfully there's an associate of your father's that's still interested. He's a beta, but beggars can't be choosers."

Steve could scent the way his pack felt about that and if that wasn't enough, the way they were glaring at his phone told the whole story. Eddie held his hand out for it and Steve gave it over, wondering what he'd say.

"Sorry to disappoint, but Steve is already home. And he's not leaving just so you can sell him off to someone twice his age."

"Who is this!? Steven Phillip Harrington, are you living with those animals?"

Steve refrained from making a comment about how beastly Eddie could be in bed. But decided now was as good a time as any to introduce them all. "Mother, this is Eddie, my alpha. Eddie, my dear mother."

Her sucking in a breath could be heard, clearly about to admonish her son again, when Jeff spoke up.

"You know, if it's just about messing up the 'Harrington name' all Steve needs to do is change it."

"Yeah, but to what?", Gareth asked, like the answer wasn't obvious.

It was clear to Steve and Eddie. It was clear the moment they locked eyes. Steve felt the need to bare his neck, to let Eddie claim that last part of himself and be joined forever. Abruptly, Eddie got up from the couch and got down on his knees in front of his love. Steve hung up the phone without ever taking his eyes off of his alpha.

"Stevie, baby, angel, muse of my soul", Eddie kissed his knee. "Would you do me the honor of taking my last name?"

Steve thought back to the night they first met, when he was certain he'd never have Eddie's attention for more than a night, if only for an hour. And now he was prostrated before him, offering his bite. Unable to help himself, Steve fell to his feet, wrapping his arms around his intended.

"Yes! Now. Give it to me now", Steve pleaded, leaning his head to the side to expose his neck.

Eddie hummed into his skin, kissing Steve's neck and even pressing his lips to that special spot in a tease before pulling back. Steve's pout was almost enough to make him do it right now. But he couldn't. He wouldn't.

"You deserve a proper courtship, baby. And a proper mating." They may have skipped a few steps, but Eddie was determined to show his beloved how much he meant to him. "If you thought you were spoiled before..."

Steve kissed him and then kissed him again. He couldn't wait and wanted it now. But also the thought of being courted, like an old fashioned courting from back in the day. He also couldn't wait for that. And Eddie wasted no time.

The very next day, Eddie went in full force. Steve was met with courting gifts, Eddie got the approval of Robin, and even the rest of his home pack when they barged in on the video call with Robin.

"I'll withhold my full approval until we can meet in person, Mr. Munson. But for now, you have my permission to court him", Robin said.

When Robin was finally able to come down and meet him, Steve was excited to introduce her. What ended up happening was that he had two menaces on his hands. But that just meant that Robin saw him as an equal and thus perfect for her Steve. And so, two months after announcing his intention, Eddie took Steve on a nice night out. After shopping for an eye catching outfit, they went to a show, dinner, and then when they returned home, Eddie took them right to their bedroom.

By now, their den and nest had become one and Steve knew that he'd never have to take it apart unless an item needed to be washed or re-scented. Tonight, as Eddie lay him down Steve reveled in the scents there. More than one item was fresh. The boys must've scented their clothes while they were on their date.

"I can't believe we waited so long for this", Eddie said while kissing at his belly. "Wanted this since I first laid eyes on you."

"That long?", Steve breathed out, squirming a little as he felt that sinful tongue on his hips.

"Mmm", Eddie hummed against Steve's mound, taking his time, loving that they had time. "That long. I've wanted you to be my mate, bonded and pupped up that whole time."

Steve released a small moan as Eddie spread him and then blew on his cunt, watching it twitch with anticipation. Eddie didn't tease for long, wanting to build up before he sunk his teeth into Steve's neck. Only when Steve was putty in his hands, filled to the brim with his knot, crying out his name, did he finally take the plunge.

When they were catching their breaths, still tied up, and Eddie licking at the new bite, Steve tried to speak between his panting.

"Me...me too..."

"Hm?"

"I've wanted this, since the first night too", Steve finished. "Wanted you forever." He rocked against Eddie. "Wanted you and your pups. The others too now."

Eddie reached down to rub at Steve's clit, making his eyes roll at the sensation. If that's what his baby wanted, his baby would get it. There was enough seed to go around to keep Steve pupped up year round if he desired.

"All you gotta do is ask, sweetness. Fuck", Eddie bucked up into him, making Steve yelp. The thought of him, round with any of their pups was almost too much. For both of them.

It only took a few talks with the whole pack for Steve to stop taking his birth control. Steve was so excited to announce it that he hopped on the first dick that he saw, which was Gareth's. Eddie found them like that in the kitchen, Steve bent over a counter and he took his own turn when he found out what the celebration was for.

Three months later, Steve felt a series of symptoms that had him going to the doctor. And by the next visit it was confirmed: twins. While the doctor was giving him more information, Steve's thoughts were wrapped up in the hope that it was not just Eddie's, but Jeff's too. His body warmed at the memory of having taken both alpha's cocks.

Pictures began to surface of him and his new belly, tracking his progress and of course, speculating on which member of the band was the sire of his new pups. But as the gossip and rumors spread, they made sure it was clear they were reporting on Steve Munson.

End

And that's a wrap! I miiiight do an epilogue on what happens after but for now, that is the end :) thank all yall for reading and leaving such wonderful comments!

Here's that epilogue

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[fierymiasma]

〖 A Poetic Misunderstanding〗| Ominis Gaunt x Reader

Summary: The last thing that Ominis expected from their ten year class reunion was to end up in the middle of Three Broomsticks kissing the savior of Hogwarts.  He only wished he was able to see just how beautiful she had become.

Ominis and female reader reconnect at their class reunion after 10 years of being apart.The AgedUp! Reunion of Ominis Gaunt x f!MC.

Content: Fluff with some angst, flustered Ominis, Victorian Era Flirting, Happy Ending, Kissing

Word Count: 3k

|| Masterlist || AO3 || | Reunion request with Sebastian x f!MC

Ominis had begun formerly courting her in the middle of the fall of their 6th year.  It became commonplace to see the 'new student' and him strolling along the Black Lake.  They would find a secluded area, set a blanket, and lay comfortably with their favorite books.  Ominis liked it especially when she read out loud to him, despite being perfectly capable himself.  He claimed, "the words just sound better coming from you."  She wasn't sure if that was entirely true, nevertheless, she indulged him in the late night reading.

They didn't talk about what life would be like after graduation.  It was one of touchy subjects in which neither party wanted to think too hard about their futures.  In which Ominis would no longer be shielded from the chains of his family name and in which she had to rise up and take her solemn duties as a Keeper of Ancient Magic.

Unfortunately, the passage of time did not stop for them. It wasn't long until Ominis got that ominous envelope from his mother that sealed their fault.

He had sent an urgent owl to her, asking to meet at their usual spot next to the Black Lake.  When she had arrived, Ominis was faithfully standing next to their favorite tree by the lake, just as he had for every day.  His back was turned, facing towards a lake that he could not see. Although she could not see his face, she could tell from the heavy weight on his shoulders, that he did not bear good news.  

"Ominis, you wanted to talk to me?"  She asked, approaching him quietly.  She gently brushed her fingers on his right shoulder, as a guide for him to see where she stood next to him.

She finally got a glimpse of his ashy expression. Her heart stopped.  Though it was spring, the lake brought an cold front, freezing the pair that was standing next to it.

"I just received a letter from my mother." Ominis said quietly.  His hand was clenched on his wand, its red tip seemingly duller than usual.  "She told me what my family has in store for me after I graduate Hogwarts."

"What did she say?"

Ominis turned his shoulder away from her, as if unable to face his lover.  "Mum and dad found me a betrothed."  His expression was angry.  "Someone who've I've never met that I am to marry by the end of the summer."

The air left her lungs, only to be replaced by the icy wind surrounding them.  They did not keep their relationship secret from Ominis's family, though they did not openly advertise either.  Still, it was not unknown to them that the girl Ominis had been seeing was a Muggleborn. Despite her ability to control a magic that few purebloods could even fathom, Ominis's lover was still of inferior origin.

"Is your betrothed Pureblood?"  The Keeper of ancient magic couldn't help but ask.

Ominis's brows crinkled in pain.  "Yes."

The two were silent for a bit, standing in the cold.  She couldn't stop herself from wringing her hands, afraid of the question she wanted to ask.

"Ominis, do you plan on going through with the marriage?"

The sharp-tongued man was utterly silent. His lack of words spoke volumes.

Something fiery in her clenched heart exploded.  "So, that's it?  Just like that, you acquiesce to their demands?  You, who had no love lost on your family, finally bend the knee to their wishes?"  She scoffed at Ominis's stony expression, willing him to say anything, to do anything, to deny these allegations she was making.

Before Ominis could speak, she felt herself being pulled back as if there was a hook in the middle of her gut dragging her elsewhere.

With a gasp, the Keeper of ancient magic returned from the memory in the pensieve.  She was now back in her research chambers, transported back to her reality from her days as a Hogwarts student.  She took a shaky breath, trying to even her respiratory rate.  It was far too painful to continue with the rest of the ten year old memory, too agonizing to hear Ominis's sad reply.  Wiping her nose, she looked at her reflection in the pensieve.  The makeup around her eyes were smudged with her tears.  She couldn't help but marvel.  It has been ten years since their 7th year.  Ten years since she last saw Ominis in person.  Ten years since they had lost what was once theirs.

Feeling tired as she often did, she turned her back to the pensieve, sliding down its column to sit on the hard stone floors. She rested her head against the cool pillar, lost as to what to do.

Poppy and Natty had arranged a ten year reunion of their closest classmates at the Three Broomsticks tonight.  It would be fun to catch up with old friends.

It would also be devastating to see what Ominis looked like now, no doubt with his wife hanging off his arms.  Merlin she hasn't seen him in ten years.  She couldn't even stomach going to their wedding (not that the Gaunts even wanted to invite her).

Thunking her head against the pensieve, she wondered if it was worth it to go to the reunion.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Ominis worried at the cufflinks to his dressrobes for the millionth time that night.  He had arrived early to the Three Broomsticks to help to set up.  He only found however that he was quite useless with decorations and that sort of things, and Natty and Poppy gently (but very firmly) sequestered him away from the various party assigned tasks.  So he sat in the corner nursing a butterbeer, alone with his thoughts.

He wondered how his old flame was doing, having not seen her in all this time.  Their departure was a painful one.  Ominis never went without a day regretting how they separated.  He spent many hours thinking of how different it could have been, had he made other choices that day.  

In their time apart, he had wrote to her frequently, as he did when they were still in school.  He filled the letters with familiar poems, just like the ones they used to share together.  He would pour all of his regret, his sorrow, and his love for her into those stanzas.

She would sometimes, on the rare occasion, write back.  Her letters provided him a terse update on her health and a polite inquiry as to the well-being of himself and his family.  If Ominis was lucky, she would tell him what recent adventures she was on, though they were never more informative than those written in the Daily Prophet.  

He wondered what she looked like now.

Funny enough, it was Amit who kept in touch with her the most.  Amit, the clever, hard-working Ravenclaw, had quickly ascended the ranks of the Ministry and was now the new Ministry-appointed ambassador between Goblin and wizardkind.  Amit and the hero of Hogwarts often worked closely together, solving wars before they could even start with well-placed diplomacy.

Amit had also arrived early, punctual as he had been in their youth.  Spotting Ominis by his lonesome, he eagerly approached the other man, sitting down on the unoccupied stool next to him.

Perhaps if Amit were someone who cared more about romance and settling down, Ominis would feel a tinge more jealous about the time they spent together.  Instead, it gave Ominis ample opportunity to ask, "What does she look like now? Has she changed?"

As obtuse as Amit could be sometimes, the Ravenclaw instantly knew who Ominis was talking about without having to ask. "Um, I guess she's taller, maybe? And doesn't wear school robes?" He shrugged.  "She wears these really fancy real-proper robes now."

Ominis sighed.  Well, it was a poor choice to ask Amit of all people to describe the beauty in people instead of dusty tomes.

Poppy grinned having overheard the conversation. She was always the other Hufflepuff's closest confidant while they were in school together.  Poppy was the one always pushing the shy Hufflepuff to be more bold and daring when it came to matters of the heart.  Patting her hands dry, she approached the two former students, eager to join in some light-hearted gossip.  "Well, Ominis, if you're asking about our savior of Hogwarts, she's doing quite well.  She grew her hair out.  It's super smooth and long now, though she has these beautiful braids that she puts it in when she goes out for any business.  Whenever, she visits my creature sancturary, she's always dressed in colorful robes like royalty, like a noble from some old Pureblood family." Her voice took a rather teasing tone. "She's very pretty if that's what you're asking."

Ominis flushed, "Um, thank you, Poppy."

Poppy giggled.  Before she returned back to her tasks around the tavern, she threw a wink behind her shoulder.  "Good luck tonight, Ominis."

Ominis flush deepened.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It was well into the night, after the rest of the crew had long arrived and gotten themselves well acquainted with the bar, that she made her entrance.  Ominis knew the second that she arrived when he heard the boisterous applause and cheering flood the small tavern.  Pausing his conversation with Everett, he turned, hoping that she would approach him.

It was in these moments, where Ominis was frustratingly reminded of his lack of sight.  He wished he was able to see what she looked like now.  If Poppy's words were able to hold a candle to the true beauty that she must be.  He wondered if her voice was unchanged, enchantingly mesmerizing.  He remembered falling asleep to the sound of her melodic words as she read from their favorite books.

His wand, almost like his a sentient companion, was able to map her movements as she made her way around the tavern.  It took no effort for it to follow her footsteps as she introduced herself politely to all the party members.  It wasn't long until she arrived right in front of him, coming to a standstill.

Even amongst the crowd at the Three Broomsticks Ominis could pinpoint her unique scent.  Honeywater, lavender, with a hint of ivy.

"Hello, Ominis."  She shyly greeted.

"Hello.  It is a pleasure to be with you again, after all of this time."

Her eyes roamed greedily over his appearance. He had grown so much since their last meeting, now a good head taller than her.  His cheekbones were sharper now, giving him an air of an aloof aristocrat. His blue eyes somehow never lost their dull, instead they were more piercing.  He was wearing black dress robes, freshly pressed, and accenting the long angles of his torso.  He had on black gloves that hid his long skillful fingers.  To her shock, there was no waifish, beautiful woman at his side. Ominis's wife was probably getting herself a drink.  Or she hadn't even bothered to show up for this whole silly affair.  

"So," the former Hufflepuff started awkwardly. She wasn't sure how to make small talk with the boy she once shared her deepest fears and secrets with. "What are you up to now?"

Ominis chuckled.  "Well, finally decided to listen to you and Sebastian for once and use my words for something other than yelling at the two of you.  I'm with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as a lawyer.  I prosecute dangerous dark wizards and witches who commit crimes of hate towards Muggles."

She blinked, not expecting that answer. "Ominis doesn't that mean…people like your family…"

Ominis nose crinkled.  "Yes, I prosecute Pureblood extremists like my siblings and the rest of the godforsaken lot." He shook his head.  "It hasn't been an easy journey."

She couldn't help but smile.  "Well, if you were anything like how we first met, I’m sure you give those dark wizards a run for their money.  Merlin, I still remember almost being brought to tears when you first shouted at me, I can't imagine you in the courtroom!"

Ominis flushed.  He apologized for his lack of manners back then, and he'd continue to apologize for them now.  "We did have a bit of a rocky start didn't we?  Still, as awkward as it was, I am glad you came to Hogwarts, and came into my life."  He frowned, "Though you haven't been in my life much recently."

She felt off balance.  She cradled her drink in her hands.  "Ominis, please do not be mistaken.  I cherish every single letter you have wrote to me.  Especially the beautiful poems.  But…" she started nervously, something like jealousy building in her gut.  "what would your wife think?  I hope she is okay with you writing such provocative words to an unwed, single woman."

Ominis' browns wrinkled.  "Wife?  I'm not married."

She blinked rapidly.  Ominis, unmarried?  The room was spinning, and the floor rocked beneath her.  Her heart was pounding.  "But…after graduation…your parents…the whole betrothal."

Ominis scowled.  "Oh, they tried to marry me off.  Tried to make sure I produced little Gaunts as quickly as possible."

She choked on her butterbeer.

"But as soon as I came back home after graduation, I could see how my family were trying to sink their claws into me, trying to get me to do their bidding.  I couldn't stand for it.  I left immediately."  Ominis snorted, crossing his arms.  "My only regret is that I didn't do it sooner."

Her hands covered her mouth in shock.  Had all this been just a silly misunderstanding? "So, you and your family are no longer speaking?"

He snorted.  "Hard to be on speaking terms when you've been estranged and put away your cousin in Azkaban."  He touched his chin in deep thought.  "Not sure if I can even call myself a Gaunt anymore. Probably not even allowed to use the family name.  I most likely would take my wife's last name, if she would allow it."

Again, she coughed into her drink.  The butterbeer kept going down the wrong pipe. Trying to recover with as much grace as possible, she asked quite forwardly, "So, you aren't with a wife currently, are you seeing anyone now?"

He had a small smile on his face. "Now, not now.  Though, I do hope that changes for me in the near future."  Her face burned at his words.  Ominis did not relent.  "I must confess, I had asked the others to describe how beautiful you were to me. I seem to recall you being the most beautiful girl in all of Hogwarts.  I'm sure you look even more lovely now."

"Ominis!"  She gasped, scandalized at his forwardness.  "You're not too bad yourself."  She admitted.

He laughed.  "Nothing, compared to what you must look like I'm sure."

She felt bold.  "Would you like to see?"

Ominis frowned.  Although his guiding wand was helpful in assisting him to see the rough hazy outlines of people, it was by no means perfect.  "Sorry, I'm not sure I entirely know what you mean."

She set aside her glass on a nearby table. Nervously fixing her hair, she approached him.  She was much closer than she should be for someone having a mere cordial conversation with an old friend.  She anxiously bit her bottom lip, "Do you trust me?"

"With my life." Ominis replied without a wasted second.

She stepped closer, small hands slowly moving into his larger ones.  Delicate fingers started taking off his skin-tight leather gloves.  He jumped at her unexpected behavior.  The sudden skin contact between their joined hands felt like electricity between.

"What, what are you doing?"  Ominis blushed, incredibly flustered.  While he didn't share the old-fashioned ideals of the Gaunts, some traces of social etiquette still lingered.  Merlin, doing…whatever it was she was doing… between two unsupervised, unwed young people?  In public?

She giggled, her lingering touch felt like scorching hot fire on his hands.  "Muggles don't have wands to help them around.  This is how blind muggles see: with their hands."  

In Ominis's opinion, muggles were entirely too improper.  

She continued taking off his gloves with no future protests.  His hands had not changed much since their childhood.  They were still cold and pale with long piano-player fingers.  Though all she wanted to do was lace their hands together and press kisses to his palms, she refrained.  Slowly, she guided his hands to her face.  Her eyes flickered upwards, looking at Ominis face to gauge his reaction.  With her hands on top of his, she gently pressed the pads of his fingers along the curve of her jaw, giving him permission to explore.

Ominis felt faint, unsure if what was happening was a dream.  Enraptured by this new form of sight, his fingers followed the soft curve of her jaw up to smooth transition to her cheeks.  He felt her flutter her eyelashes at the sensation and marveled at how long they were.  There was much he could do to learn from muggle kind.  The formalities fell away and social graces were entirely forgotten. He traced the contours of her face, eager to see what she looked like.  

"None of my poems ever come close to describing you," He concluded.  "Merlin, you transfix me."  

With his hands still on her cheeks, he could feel her sharp intake of air.  One of her trembling hands reached up to meet his.  She held his hands in place on her cheek, begging for him not to stay. "Ominis, I've missed you."

His thumb brushed her cheek in a soothing manner. He was unwilling to drop his hands away from her, less he let her go.  "I've missed this.  There isn't a day that goes by when I'm not thinking of you reading me your favorite books next to the Black Lake."

She slowly steered Ominis's hands to the one last place he still had not dared to touch.  He could feel the edge of his thumb meet the soft creases of her lips. "Ominis, what if we were to go back?  Go back to how it used to be, when we used to spend our days walking around the lake."

Ominis pulled himself closer to her face, his thumbs brushing the cupid's bow of her parted lips.  Before his eyes fluttered shut and before his lips met hers, he whispered softly,  "I would very much like that."

[retrieve-the-kraken]

Young Royals Season 2 play-by-play analysis

The last episode, the climax to the conflict, the conclusion to this arc, the start of the revolution… it’s so dramatic, so tense and so satisfying.

(Ugh, why does it take me so long to find the gifs I want... Why can't I always find the absolute perfect gifs when I want them and I know they exist...)

Brace yourselves, because this analysis is LOOOONG. I can’t stop the thoughts, sorry. Too many moments, too many unspoken things that speak volumes…

EPISODE 6

The boys have been together for hours now, in their little bubble. As far as we know, there have been no food or bathroom breaks…? Just the two of them, making the most of every second together, just loving each other one last time… Then morning comes and the bubble bursts. Simon has to do the right thing, he knows that there’s a big chance that nothing will come off it, but he has to try. Even if it means that August won’t be next in line to the throne, which at least would be a giant blow for August, but an equally big one for Wille… but Simon has to try, he can’t just not do anything, he has to get some form of justice… and whatever happens after that they will deal with it together, hopefully.

So after hours of loving and being loved, Wille looks resigned again, watching as Simon gets dressed. He asks if he’s going there now, to the police station. Does it have to be now? Can’t we have more time together. Simon is heading to the police later, but he has to break up with Marcus first, once and for all. He hesitates before kneeling down next to the bed. If he doesn’t go now, he might lose his nerve. That forehead kiss, it’s so sweet, like he’s saying that everything will be alright, somehow. Like he wants to reassure Wille that it’s not the end, that there’s still love. Just kill me…

August is having a mental breakdown. He knows he can’t get out of this one without help. He knows that maybe the Royal Court can help him sweep the whole matter under the rug… But what if they don’t? He’s not entirely in there yet, he’s not exactly in their good graces yet.

“August, we are counting on you to not give us any problems whatsoever.” You’re on thin ice, August. They forgave you one scandal, they won’t forgive another. “You represent the entire Royal Court now.” Already? It’s like they’re already counting on Wille to give up, and August to need to step up. Way to keep putting the pressure on kids, by the way. Although August is of age, he’s still a fucking kid. But he will be tried as an adult…

“It’s silly, I will take care of it myself,” August says. Then he turns to the person who also already has a vendetta against Wille and Simon…

Listen, my work has let me see people’s different styles of public-speaking. Everyone has a different style, and there are some people that are more natural at it than others, some people seem to have been born for it… and some people just don’t. (And even the people who seem to be natural at it require training, they’re not just born knowing how to do it, it’s just easier for them to get it). I don’t have public-speaking abilities, although I could develop them, but I’m an introvert, and so is Wille. It takes more work than that. It’s not just knowing what to say, because anyone can read words from a page; it’s the delivery, it’s the power behind the words, and it’s the ability to look into a crowd and not lose your nerve… And the fact that they’re forcing him to give a speech at such a young age, during an event of such magnitude, without even giving him some sort of training first, is fucking unfair and mental. They just expect him to be a natural at it. Like becoming the Crown Prince suddenly means that he should be able to. Nah, it doesn’t work like that. It’s not an app or a plugin that you suddenly get, it takes work, especially if you’re not a natural… Fuck the Royal Court and Kristina.

Simon ghosting Marcus, but then showing up. And Marcus being all sour, because he knows, he knows everything. “You haven’t replied in days”. Guess what, Marcus? It’s not really your business. You’re not his boyfriend, no matter how much you wanted to believe it.

“Not compared to a prince, at least.” Fuck you, Marcus, you snob, you don’t know Wille. Wille being a prince is not a plus, it has never been a plus, in fact it’s been the biggest obstacle between them… You’re making Simon sound like an elitist, and that shows how little you know about Simon.

“You only brought me to make him jealous.” Well, you got that part right, but also, he brought you to distract himself, he was trying to move on. He wanted to like you, somewhat... (guess he dodged a bullet there...)

“I told you that I wasn’t ready for a relationship but you haven’t been listening to me.” Yes, and that negates the “perfect” thing. Stop being nice and telling him that he’s perfect, Simon. He’s not. He’s a manipulative snob.

“So it’s my fault that you treated me like crap.” OH WHO’S PLAYING VICTIM NOW…

You, sir, you are the problem. Not even the main one, no. Just a problem in Simon's life. Stop being so annoying.

“You see yourself as some kind of victim among all those brats.” FUCK YOU MARCUS. He IS a victim, he’s an outsider among all the privilege kids, he’s at a disadvantage and constantly reminded of it. He IS a victim of the system, the system rigged in favor of privileged kids, rigged in favor of the Crown, the system that protects powerful people and keeps the cycle of silence and oppression going. And he IS a victim of sexual harassment perpetuated by one of the brats. You have no fucking idea, Marcus. DO NOT believe a word he said, Simon.

And Simon tried to make it right, he tried to apologize, and Marcus just made him feel terrible and accused him of things that weren't even true. Simon doesn’t deserve that.

I still think it's ironic that Rosh and Ayub were like "Ugh, Wille's so toxic, you should totally hook up with Marcus, have a rebound," and Marcus turned out to be the toxic one... I'm not saying that Wille or Simon are perfect, and I know that what Simon did to Marcus was not nice, to ghost him, to use him like that, even if he had made it clear to Marcus that they were not a thing. But Marcus was full of red flags; he is a snob who thinks himself better than the "rich brats" at Hillerska, and doesn't fail to point it out; he calls out Simon for his relationship with Wille by saying that the thing that Simon liked about him was that he was a prince, which is actually the opposite; he absolutely LIED about not watching the sex video, because of course he did and that's probably what sparked his interest and made him approach Simon now, after knowing about him for much longer (everyone in Bjärstad knows each other, and their mums are literally friends, wtf); he used what he knew from his mother about the Eriksson family to manipulate Simon into not breaking things off with him; and he's slightly older so technically there's a slight power dynamic there. And as a final blow he accuses Simon of pretending to be a victim and loving the drama... You know nothing, you jerk...

(It reminded me so much of when August and Felice dated, and August was jealous at Felice's closeness to Wille, then going on and kissing Sara... and of course there's that little "funny" thing he said about her when we first meet him and find out what kind of person he is, and what he thinks of women... Of course August is much worse, the worst in fact, but Marcus was unexpectedly a wolf disguised as a lamb...)

The palatset is decorated with blue and yellow streamers and balloons and Swedish flags and other party decor. There will be a party after the Jubilee.

August with his back turned to the door, like a classic villain…

I think there’s an expression or a proverb or something for wanting something so bad that you would do terrible things to obtain it. There was a Huffington Post opinion article that someone shared on here recently on how the people who want to have power are precisely the people who should have it, whilst the people who are most suited to be in power are the ones who don’t want it at all. Real, good leaders are collaborative, they like to help others shine, they are selfless, they sacrifice. Power-hungry people are easily corrupted by power or by the desire to obtain it… August is so power-hungry he will do anything for it, and yet he’s not aware of what he would have to sacrifice for it and when the time comes he’s just not going to; Sara wants so bad to be part of the elite that she’s willing to screw over her own brother, lie to her friends, join forces with the worst person. Meanwhile, Wilhelm cares so little about being Crown Prince, and Simon has never cared about Wille’s title. In fact, the Crown has been for them both more of a hindrance than a promise… In fact, the only time that Wille uses his title is to weaponize it against August, but it turns him into a pretty bad person; he uses his power to get revenge on August, but it shows an ugly side of him. However, it doesn’t last long, because he’s not a narcissist like August. Once he’s back to being himself, to the person who doesn’t want the title, then he once again becomes perfectly suited for it. Beyond the royal title, beyond the inherited nature of it, Wille’s a good leader, he’s just young and misguided at times. That’s why therapy is so helpful to him, to understand his emotions, to find that balance.

August says he knows that what he did was unforgivable, “But Erik would not have let Simon go to the police.” HOW DARE YOU BRING ERIK INTO THIS. You do not speak for the dead, August.

“So now it’s my responsibility too to protect the Royal Family.” You’re just as bad as the Queen, August. You fit right in.

As it has been pointed out, Alexander doesn’t really work as the scapegoat: the video was recorded when Alexander had already been caught with the drugs; and it makes no sense to pretend that he’d still be in possession of August’s phone when the video was leaked either, a few days later, and already having been expelled. Especially since only a few minutes after the video was leaked, August had his phone with him and even answered a phone call from Minou from the Royal Court. Even if Alexander had had August’s phone, and had been able to record without unblocking the phone (August has an iPhone with a home button, so usually a fingerprint is required), it still would raise the question of when and how the phone was “hacked” to obtain the video, how long the video remained in the phone, etc. And August doesn’t seem to know that the Royal Court is in possession of the most damning evidence of all, the library computer from which he logged in and posted the video… As far as August knows the Queen and the Royal Court found out that it was August because Wille told them, because Felice figured it out and told him. So his whole plan is playing with fire and full of holes anyway. Either he and Alexander are too stupid to realize this, or they’re just counting of Wille getting scared. Which is why they’re warning him about what they’ll do if Simon reports.

And the weirdest thing to me is… Alexander is getting back at Will by willingly taking the blame for CHILD PORNOGRAPHY???? Something that he didn’t actually do???? He’s willing to be known as the guy who filmed the Crown Prince and Simon in an intimate moment and created a video that went infamously viral???? Like that could not have an impact on his future??? For fuck’s sake, he’s dumber than I thought…

But Wille is right, this whole stupid-ass plot won’t stop Simon from going to the police. But the drugs definitely will… There’s no escaping that…

“It’s time to stop this, everything calmed down once you denied the rumors… no one cares about the video.” “I CARE!”

Wille looks ready to commit murder. I would have loved him to use his headbutting skills to give August a nice purple bruise that would look really nice at the Jubilee.

I feel bad for Rousseau. That new owner is a dick.

“I want to be completely honest with you. No more secrets between us” says Felice, and Sara has been the most dishonest of the two this whole time…

“I’m in love with August.” Not “I’ve been sleeping with August” or “I have been seeing August in secret”. LOVE. Whoa.

This whole time Sara really thought that Felice would hate her for being in love with August just because he was her ex, when in reality it’s because Felice knows that August is a terrible person who can’t be trusted and Sara shouldn’t be in love someone like that… not knowing that Sara has been pretty bad herself and should not be trusted.

August being all “What’s this? The police? What is this police of which you speak?” Like he doesn’t know that Simon can knock him down and sit on him again and mash his face into the ground…

“I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to protect the royal family. Maybe you should do the same.” Very well, thinks Wille, picking up the gun to kill August and protect the royal family from the threat that is August.

Simon stepping back, in case Wille does shoot August or something, but not trying to talk him down. “He’s about to confess.” Wille says it, letting him know that he’s serious, this will turn into an “accident” if August doesn’t confess.

It’s been pointed out before that that moment, when Wille is ready to shoot August for what he did to him, to them, when he flinches as Wille shoots into the air, is the first time that Simon sees how much the video leak affected Wille, but also how much he couldn't do anything about it. Even if he denied the whole thing on an interview, people still knew that was him on the video, he was still outed, his privacy was still violated, and his own family still betrayed him, and it changed him forever. And this is all that built up anger coming out. So if Simon still thought that Wille only did badly for a while and then he was fine, now he sees that Wille is deeply traumatized.

When August glances at Sara, Felice already knows… Sara just revealed to her that she’s in love with August, so if she knew that Simon was going to the police, she might have told August. And then Sara confirms it.

The look on Simon’s face when Sara looks guilty. He’s in absolute disbelief. They all are.

“I was in love with him.” This is the first time August is hearing this…

“I thought the damage was done since the video was already out there.” More proof that Sara didn’t really understand what Simon was going through, that it wasn’t just about the video, it was the wedge that was driven between him and Wille, it was the fact that August got away with it, that the Royal Court protected him.

And for all of Sara’s excuses, the fact remains that she chose August over her own brother, even before she was actually in love with August. Which means she chose the privilege that August offered over being loyal to her own brother…

“He wanted to come clean. And I believed him.” Like she really kept it a secret for that reason… No, Sara, you weren’t hoping that August would come clean, you just wanted to live in Manor house and be elite and potentially even become the future Queen…

“It wasn’t enough that you destroyed my family, you had to destroy another one.”

At this point August really believes that Wille might shoot him and starts to beg him not to. It’s like he almost believes that Wille has nothing to lose.

“You don’t even want to be prince.” And August is right. As he watches Simon walk away, Wille drops the gun to go after him, because Simon is much more important than the fucking crown, something that August doesn’t seem to understand, something he will never understand. Wille walks away toward Simon, because he won’t let August destroy that too. (If Wille has ever thought of a long-term future with Simon, of being each other’s family, that’s the family that he wants to protect now.)

“You’re despicable.” Felice realizing what Sara is capable of. Was their friendship real? Was it just convenient to Sara? To have access to Rousseau, to be with the most popular girl in Hillerska? If she betrayed her own brother, what’s keeping Sara from betraying anyone else?

Personally spitting on August is a nice touch. Wille is basically saying “I won’t get my hands dirty because of you, but this is how I feel about you, this is what you’re worth, scum.”

“You were going to confess, August.” Sara doesn’t understand the value of secrecy in this society. Also August confessing was never really a major thing for her until Simon found out and wanted to go to the police. Before that, she was fine with how things were, even when she saw how miserable her brother was…

“You know about the struggle to get what you want… we’re the same, you and I.” August comparing Sara being working class and wanting to fit in in an elite school to him wanting to keep his status and become next in line to the throne… yes, they are the same, but at different levels. I’m not excusing what Sara did, but August is definitely worse. “It’s what I love about you.” What? You love that she became ruthless and deceitful and treacherous? Because that’s what you are…

“I had no other choice.” To be precise, he had no other choice that would keep him out of potentially going to jail.

Simon is keeping all of his emotions inside. Wille hugging him brings them too close to the surface and he’s at risk of them spilling all over… the way his voice trembles as he says “please…”, like he’s about to cry, but he doesn’t want to cry here, not where someone can see him, he just wants to go home, he wants to get away from it all, even Wille. You can’t fix this, he’s basically saying. Everything is destroyed in ways that he didn’t even know, because his own sister, his own family, betrayed him too. It’s not even about just August, it’s also now Sara, and it’s everything that has happened to him since the moment he met Wille. He hasn’t had a moment of peace…

And Wille watches him go, knowing too that he can’t fix it either. And he’s still trapped…

Kristina doesn’t even know what Wille’s crying about, she just comforts him, sort of… and he smiles sort of (because despite what she has done to him, she’s still his mother, he still wants to trust her, be comforted by her). But she doesn’t ask him what’s wrong.

Simon’s face and eyes are raw from crying. He called his friends, who know the whole story, to vent… And Ayub and Rosh immediately jump to the conclusion that Sara must have been brainwashed by August to have done this, otherwise she would be incapable… is clear that they don’t know her either.

Linda, again, what’s up with you? Your son looks like he’s been crying himself raw, and his friends look morose. How do you not get that something more is going on…? Simon doesn’t want her to know, anyway, because it would break her heart. He’s the protector, he wants to protect his family. I agree with a lot of people who say that the events of that day show Simon that Wille really had no choice, that he was after all just acting like everything was fine but he was most definitely not fine. After seeing how he pointed a gun at August, nearly losing it, it's clear to Simon that Wille's never intended to protect August, but had not choice but to put up with him; that of course he was traumatized by the leaked video, but he was forced to deny it. And after finding out that even his own sister had betrayed him, Simon realizes that he has no choice either, that someone else will always have the upper hand. So now he will have to change his strategy if he wants to protect those he cares about, including Wille. “If everyone is going to protect their families, then I’ll do the same.” Simon is a lot like his mother, he sacrifices a lot for his family. Linda looks like she understands. She is proud of Simon and she will support whatever he decides.

(gif by @almostliving84, because I don't know how to search for it in the gifs search bar when I already know where the gif is...)

As I mentioned before, Kristina also went to Hillerska, she knows about the palatset, she knows about the secrecy culture. Her choice to send Wille to Hillerska was never really about making him into a proper prince, it was about keeping him out of the public eye so he could do whatever he wanted without it becoming a scandal. A plan which majorly backfired when the secrecy cycle was broken… by August of all people…

“Your mother is not as innocent as she’d like to appear.” Yes, we know. “Stop it, don’t put ideas into his head.” Don’t worry, Kristina, your son will never ever be like you.

Wilhelm looking in pain as he is forced to participate in this charade. “How are you, gubben?” Now she asks. Boy has been moping since before you got there, and you didn’t even care, until now when it’s too obvious to ignore.

“It just creates new and bigger problems.” The way that the video, that everything has been handled, is nothing new; everything that doesn’t fit into the mold is swept under the rug, every wrinkle is ironed out, and then everyone goes on pretending like nothing happened.

“It’s important to talk about your emotions, but you can talk to us about anything.” “But it’s not enough.” Indeed it’s not. Krissy, you wanted him to talk to a psychologist, but that’s not the solution to the problem. Wille has finally understood why he feels the way he feels, and he’s learned to communicate. But it’s not enough, what’s the point of talking if nothing happens? If nothing changes? He’s expected to learn to handle his emotions, but the root of the problem, of the thing causing his distress, his anxiety, remains untouched. The monarchy, the cycle of secrecy, the traditions… everything stays the same…

The crowd of girls gathered outside the room. Either word spreads really freaking fast, or Sara took a very long time to go back to her room… Or did Felice leave the door open and then start telling Stella and Fredrika about it so loudly that everyone heard? Judging from the fact that just now the housemistress arrives, maybe it hasn’t been that long…

Sara very subtly threatens Stella with outing her. She unfortunately doesn’t realize how much like August she is. Making threats when she doesn’t have the upper hand, when she’s being called out.

“Sara has proven that she’s not a friend. She’s not loyal.” Obviously Felice can’t talk about the real reason why Sara’s betrayal is so big, not in front of Stella, Fredrika or the housemistress, but she makes it very clear to Sara.

“I don’t know what happened, I’ve never been in love before.” But again, Sara wasn’t in love with August when she decided to keep this huge secret from Simon. She might have had been catching feelings, because they kissed and she was curious, but still she made that choice to get an advantage. “I could always tell right from wrong, but with him it all seemed right.” Bullshit, she always knew it was wrong. Otherwise she wouldn’t have threatened to tell Wille last season; otherwise she wouldn’t have implied to Simon that a person can’t help what they feel, when Simon felt rotten about “cheating” on Marcus. She knew it was wrong. “You’re so totally full of shit,” Felice calls her out. It’s been months of secrecy at this point.

August texting “Please, I feel like shit.” You should. The drugs he claimed he would stop taking soon beckon him. Another lie. Then he looks in the mirror as he practices the speech and says “to make you proud.” Irony.

Wilhelm is lying in bed, bathed in red light, and I first missed the symbolism of him playing with Erik’s lighter… playing with fire… Cities on fire, won’t you burn it all… before he looks at Erik’s cigarette case… He’s thinking of Erik, he still feels the weight of his title and the commitment of living up to his brother’s memory and legacy, but also maybe he’s wondering what Erik would tell him to do in this situation…

(Could not find these gifs in the search bar either, so I found it in @levok s page, thank you for it. Seriously, if anyone can teach this loser -me- to search for gifs when you already know where it is, so that it shows up with the credit and all, please teach me so I can fix this, and all the previous posts. Thank you.)

Never not loving the scene of Ayub and Simon talking as they’re both falling asleep, that’s a really supportive friend, we all deserve an Ayub. “But he wants to keep it a secret, and you don’t.” Not quite; Wille doesn’t want their relationship to be a secret, he he just knows that it was an option proposed by his mother, and he was desperate enough to consider it. Simon tells Ayub about the possibility of him and Wille being a secret relationship until they’re eighteen. As far as we know, he hadn’t thought about that again, since Wille mentioned it in the locker room, because he had pretty much discarded that option as insulting. Because it made him feel like a dirty little secret… But now… now it seems like an option again, maybe the only option… to be with Wille, even if it has to be secret. He’s also bathed in red light as he ponders it…

“Only you can decide,” says Ayub. The light turns from blue (the color of calm, security and inner reflection) to purple (the color of royalty, but also as the combination of blue and red, it contains the stability of blue and the energy of red, and it also symbolizes spirituality, creativity and wisdom, and perhaps more importantly, it’s the color of resistance of the queer community) to red (the color of love and passion), signaling that Simon might have already made his choice.

The stage is set; the Swedish flag, the pomp and circumstance… On the bus, Simon looks pretty serene. Like he already knows, he’s already made up his mind. He just hopes he doesn’t regret it. Meanwhile, Wille practices the speech, resigned to following the charade, fitting into the perfect image of a crown prince.

Felice emerges from a room (a random room under the stairs? I had decided in my head that she either went to Stella and Fredrika’s room, or even more likely to Madison’s, and slept on the floor, but the way that she leaves the door open…), to find Sara gone, the expensive riding pants the girls gifted her left behind, a major symbol of how she realized that she’s never going to fit in with the girls at Manor house. (By the way, how long did Sara take to go from Manor house to the entrance, if Felice found her gone already, but by the time the jubilee is already happening and people are arriving she hasn’t even left the premises…? How fucking far is Manor house from the main gate??)

August arriving like nothing’s happened. He thinks he’s in. He still has to stand on the back of pictures, but he’s still living it. Kristina looking at Wille like she’s gauging how committed he is to the charade, to pretending that there’s no bad blood with August.

Vincent and Nils tease August, like there’s no bad blood anymore either. Do they know he’s next in line, did he tell them?

Wille glances at August, sees how different they’re acting in that lineup. Whilst Wille feels so awkward and stifled, August looks like he fits right in. If it weren’t because he detests him, he’d give it all up to August, who actually likes performing like this.

August is so ecstatic about how well he’s doing that he momentarily forgot about Sara. Until he sees her. Things are not perfect, indeed.

August buying Rousseau for Sara thinking that’s what she wanted. No, she wanted you to be a better person. You can’t throw money at everything. And also yes, of course she wanted Rousseau, but how do you expect her to take care of it???? She has no money. Then as she leaves, he calls weakly after her, but then he walks the other way. Clearly he has his priorities in the right order, and she’s not as important to him as everything else.

Simon signals to Wille that he wants to talk. Wille probably thought that everything had gone to shit again, that Simon would never speak to him again… again… They go into the coat room, the place where they had their first kiss, where everything started… Wille is so tense, he’s so afraid of what Simon is going to say. He listens, apprehensive, until he realizes where Simon is going… “It’s not worth destroying our families over that. And it’s not worth destroying what we have.” Simon and Wille somehow, deep down, might already think of each other as family, as each other’s future. My heart…

“I want to be with you. Even if it has to be a secret.” The tension melts. “But no more secrets between us.” The little smile of joy, the little relieved exhale, the excited little nod… and meanwhile Simon is smiling so big that his eyes crinkle. Then Wille takes his hand, because he’s allowed again… Then they look at each other and they hug, and Wille is home again. He’s happy again. They both are. They still have each other.

And then Simon says ‘I love you’, and Wilhelm has been hoping to hear those words for so long, the confirmation that Simon feels the same way, and he realizes that it does not deserve to be a secret. He doesn’t want it to be a secret. That they both deserve more. That he wants to love Simon openly. If anything else happens that jeopardizes them being together, he can’t allow it. He hasn’t decided what he’s going to do yet, or when, but he needs to make sure that they (the Court) can’t go back on their promise of letting him be with Simon. He’a willing to fight tooth and nail for that. He can’t let anything get between them again.

Jan-Olof interrupts them (asshole), and Simon immediately backs away, drops his arms, but Wille is not so fazed, he’s almost defiant. He wants to touch and caress Simon so bad, but he can’t be as effusive as he wishes, because someone is watching, and that’s how it would be all the time. But he gives in for the moment, walking away casually. And Simon is being so brave about it, knowing that they’re good, that they’re finally on the same page, even if they’re not entirely happy with the page.

Sara hears the choir begin to sing. She is missing out on the event that she was sort of preparing for, imagining having to greet the Queen, learning what to say. She is once again an outsider looking in (or rather listening in). The event has lost its meaning.

Meanwhile Wille watches as Simon performs with the crowd, looking dejected, just another member of the group. Knowing what Simon can do as a soloist, knowing how much he loves hearing Simon sing, knowing that that was supposed to be a song written by Simon, a song he was proud of, a song that (he later found out) was about him, it really highlights how unfair and outdated the system is, to deny one student, one talented choir singer, to stand out.

Sara might change schools next season, now that I think about it. What if she’s too ashamed to return? Continuing to attend Hillerska would mean enduring gossip about her, hateful looks from Felice and Simon, judgement from Wille and the rest of the people who know what she did (Stella, Fredrika, the rest of the girls at Manor House, etc.) and having to encounter August.

In a misguided attempt to make things right with her brother, she calls the police to report August. She should not have made that call, not only because we know it might make things worse now, but also because it was not her place to make the report, it was Simon’s.

Wilhelm braving his anxiety and feeling ill and making a last second decision to do the speech, because he saw Simon’s worried face when smug August starts walking toward the podium. Giving up this moment to August means giving everything to August, and it means they win. They, the Crown, the Royal Court, the system, they win. And Wille can’t let that happen, he needs to regain control of the narrative again, for himself and for Simon. This is it, this is his chance, anxiety be damned.

The confused look on everyone’s faces. What the hell was that about? August’s face as he is forced to sit his ass back down. The “torture”, the humiliation at the hands of Wille continues. Karma, bitch.

And Krissy looking so proud, thinking that her plan worked. But no mi ciela, it wasn’t August that ultimately lit the fire under Wille, it was Simon. His decision to step up is not driven by hate, but by love.

I don’t think that Wille knew what he was going to say when he stood up to do the speech, he just knew that he couldn’t let August take over, because then it wasn’t only him and Simon getting stuck with August, it was everyone else. Taking away August’s chance to give the jubilee speech, for example, is not about having revenge on August anymore, it’s about fulfilling his leadership role, and realizing that if he doesn’t, then there won’t be a leader, but a power-hungry narcissist “in charge”.

Wille chooses to lead by example, stopping the cycle of silence and secrecy by telling the truth, being honest, and if he had let August, August would basically lead by example too but by continuing that cycle of secrecy and silence.

Also Wille standing up to do the speech instead of August was at first about putting Simon’s feelings first, before his own feelings of unease and anxiety. Simon who has just been hit in the face with such revelations, like Sara’s betrayal, and how far August was willing to go to screw him over and Wille, his threat to use his father’s drugs against him… and it’s so clear on his face how much he’s putting up with August for his and Wille’s sake, now having to be a part of the people who have to pretend that they don’t know that August committed sexual harassment against them, that August exposed them to the world and ruined their lives, Simon has to hide his feelings, his distress at knowing that, despite all those things, at any moment August just gets everything he’s ever wanted, he’s Wille’s backup, he’s one step closer to his beloved Crown… And Wille’s not having it. Not for himself anymore, but for Simon. He will sacrifice his own freedom for Simon, and for the greater good.

The girl with the phone thinking “whoa, he’s going off-script. Better stream this.” Simon looking nervous, knowing what’s coming. Boris looking so proud and amused. And Krissy on the verge of a fit, silently begging “stop”...

When Wille says “it was me in the video, the video of me and Simon,” the camera cuts to several faces, including of course the Queen and Simon, and a moment earlier to Boris looking all proud. But it wasn’t until the Netflix reel announcing Season 3, when they did the 12 Days of Christmas song, in the part where it goes “Four pretty words”, the four faces being shown are Simon, Kristina, Boris… and Stella… Stella looking shocked. I hadn’t realized that the first face they cut to after Wille mentions Simon is Stella’s. They focused, albeit briefly, on her reaction to Wille coming out… of course Stella’s sexuality is going to be a big thing next season, but I love how they focused on her, making it obvious that we’ll learn more about her.

I thought it was a nice little detail that the two students whom we see filming Wille, when Wille says that it was a private moment, they both look up from the screen of their cameras and instead look directly at Wille.

The cameras flashing at Simon, at his distressed face. Foreboding. And yet he smiles.

Wilhelm knows that what’s coming now is going to be difficult, but at least he’ll have Simon by his side. He glances skyward, as if to check with Erik, wondering if he’s proud of his little brother. Yes, Wille, I think Erik would be really proud.

He then looks defiantly at us, like he knows we’re here, watching, and his lips curl into the faintest of smiles, a rebellious, daring smirk. He has regained control.

My royals babies have truly been through the wringer, and I know that yet more challenges will arise for them in the third season. But they will be together, they will face them together, and although they have been changed forever, in good ways and bad ways, they have made each other stronger

[wolfpackmuses]

Satan watched High Tide closely, seeing that it was pretty evident by his face that he... wasn't exactly a fan of the outburst Satan had had. He stayed silent, watching him, seeing how he would respond, but Satan couldn't have imagined anything that happened next. It was interesting to see someone else take on the anger that Satan himself possessed every now and again, but to see High Tide getting so visibly frustrated and angry about the entire event was really speaking volumes about the type of situation that he was in.

He really had no idea what he had gotten himself into, had he? The fact that was so clearly evident by his anger, the way he spoke... everything made it perfectly clear to the sin that High Tide had been thrown into a situation he didn't want to be in, like so many other sinners that happened to be in Hell. Satan himself couldn't say for certain whether or not he fell into that sort of category, as his own past was clouded in his mind, but... he knew enough people to know the situation High Tide was in was common.

And he had just unfortunately been the one person to piss off Adam right before the most hated day of the year.... Extermination Day.

Satan continued to say nothing, watching as High Tide's anger grew more and more, only for him to... change. Physically. To change into a form that was even larger than Satan himself was at the moment. Satan's yellow eyes cast glances up towards High Tide's head towards the ceiling and he couldn't help but wonder if being in the Wrath RIng had caused this sort of transformation to happen to someone else... That was a question for another day, but it was still an interesting footnote, nonetheless.

He watched him closely, changing back to his normal form, appearing to turn and walk away. High Tide was angry. Upset. Because he knows the costs of where he was and what may happen if Adam found him. At least this was what Satan was taking away from it. As he walked by some of the servants who were cleaning things up, the dragon rose to his feet and took a step forward on his throne, causing the ground to rumble and shake once more.

❝What makes you believe that I am not willing to help?❞ he asked, more of a... calmness in his voice now than there had been a few moments ago, ❝I know it is bold for someone such as myself to assume the situation someone is in and what they know. I have to oversee a court that deals with people like that on a regular basis.❞

He took another step forward and unfurled his wings to fly his way down and across the small gap to where High Tide had been standing moments prior. The impact caused another shake and the Sin stopped to see if High Tide would stop or not.

❝I can not promise that Adam won't be able to find you. If he knows anything, he knows there are only so many places within Hell that someone like you can be hiding. However... I know he also does not always enjoy the prospect of fighting other sins, such as myself. He may be a danger to regular sinners but to sins? We put up more of a fight,❞ he commented as the lights in the room flickered briefly from a yellow glow to orange, then dark red, and back to yellow.

❝I do not expect you to accept my offer, as I... made it clear, I was unhappy. However... I am willing to provide you a place of refuge here in the Wrath Ring until Extermination Day has concluded. I will fight by your side to push Adam back to where he came from if that means saving someone else's life,❞ he said in a softer tone, ❝You have a fighting spirit, I can respect that. And I can do all that I can to try and help you, as long as it takes for Adam to conclude the slaughter.❞

             High Tide’s brow raised as he tried to study Satan’s face to try and understand what he was thinking or, pray tell, feeling at that moment... Only to immediately get his answer roared to his face. Sure, he didn’t fully blame the Embodiment of Wrath to feel absolutely livid with the new acquired info, after all, that stupid angel was hated by everyone in Hell...

             But if there was something High Tide absolutely despised was to be assumed of knowing everything and get screamed at because of it.

             “If ye want me to be honest, no, I had NO FRAGGIN’ IDEA of the kind of danger I walked into!” He didn’t seem intimidated by the other towering over his frame, even though he should have. “It’s so easy to assume I have to know EVERYTHING about this fraggin’ HELLHOLE of a place even though I don’t look like a normal sinner!”

             High Tide had to take a few steps back while temporary having his back against Satan, as if he was trying to hold something back... and failing, given how some steam angrily billowed from his mouth and the joints in his frame. “Ye are the fragging Sin of Wrath, ye are immortal and have been here since the beginning of fragging TIME ITSELF, of course ye would know everything around here. Your normal sinner is a human who died and became something related to their death... Now look at me!”

             “DO I LOOK LIKE A SINNER TO YOU?!” Just as he turned to shout that question back at the Sin, his height quickly shifted to a perfectly normal 26ft as his voice grew full of static, the crest at the top of his head hitting any decorations in the ceiling with an angry growl coming from his throat.

             “No, I am not a s̸i̴n̸n̵e̶r̵!” Metallic footsteps boomed as he walked closer to Satan, his teeth quickly growing to its true sharpness and fully unclenching his jaw... forcefully. Which caused a distorted hiss to leak from his face pipes and blue-ish goo to leak from underneath it. Was that his blood? “I came far from a version of Hell from my species of which I lost everything! I spent most of my unlimited lifespan fighting and killing over and over, and I feel N̸O̴ ̴P̷R̷I̶D̷E̴ on it! I barely even came HERE in one piece and now I have to deal with a stupid angel after my aft for no fragging reason and instead of getting help like I had hoped, a huge fragging dragon towered over me and screamed at me like I was supposed to know everything! And I’m no flesh, I’m made out of M̶̅͆͜E̵̱̎̉T̴̖̲̑Ǎ̶̝͗L̸̠̀͝!”

             It took the flaring warning of leakage on his HUD for High Tide to realize he was practically towering over Satan, claws out and snarling in discontent. Looking from the corner of his optics, he noticed some servants trying to cleaning the pool of energon caused by his injured cheeks, which explained the craziness of the warning. He took a step back and returned to his smaller self with a dark hand cupped under his chin.

             “If ye didn’t want to help me, just say so instead of assumin’ b̷u̸l̴l̵s̴h̴i̸t̴ about me.” He turned and walked towards the exit, muttering an excuse me and sorry for the mess to the servants on his way. “I’ll deal with this m̶y̷s̴e̷l̴f̸.”

[koocycle]

play thing | drabble series (i).

pairing. basketball player!jungkook x female reader

summary. jungkook is aware of the fact that you’re not his to love, yet he’s eager to show you what you’re missing out on.

wc. 3065

warnings. none

taglist. if you’d like to be added, please send me an ask!

previous | next

‘‘You look really pretty today.’’

A hint of a barely visible flush creeps up your already heated cheeks upon hearing the words leaving his lips. You don’t want to show your vulnerability at such an everyday compliment, yet the act seems a bit too hard when your lips break into a grin you’d rather keep to yourself today - completely losing your focus under his heated gaze attempting to meet your own.

‘‘Thank you, Jungkook.’’

He tries to hide the smile that’s making an appearance on his face, but he finds your flustered state way too adorable to not be entertaining on this fine afternoon. He can tell you’re not used to getting compliments by the way you innocently play with the heavy fabric of your dress, pretending to dismiss the existence of the wet haired man in front of you, but he knows better than that. Better than this simple act of innocence you’re putting up for him. 

And he’s not making it any easier on you — not when he is looking at you like this. His entire figure is casually leaning back against the heavy door of the men’s locker room and his backpack hangs lazily over one of his shoulders as you can suspect that there’s nothing more in there besides a total of two pencils in desperate need for a new grinding.

‘‘You can look at me, you know?” He’s mumbling this time, words barely audible before his gaze shifts to his feet, his head tilting and the grimace not yet visible on his face. ‘‘Barely complemented you. I don’t bite.’’

His words make you shoot an eyebrow up your forehead, giving you the final strength to look him in the eye this time. You know exactly what he’s doing.

“I mean — unless you’re into that?”

There it was. The boyish grin just begging to show up, the hint of pure mischief continuing to gleam in his eyes — the kind he wouldn’t be able to hide even if he wanted to. You had expected it to come to this point already, had been waiting for it, actually.

You straighten your back, composing your posture in front of him. And he oh so desperately tries to not avert his eyes down your slightly pushed out chest. The lightweight fabric of your nude colored blouse is allowing him to catch a glimpse of your bra, but he won’t let his guard down.

“I’m not, actually.” You manage to answer smugly, a load of confidence washes over you as you already have a feeling as to where this is heading. This surprises him as well, the sudden hint of a tease clearly audible in your voice.

“Hm, no?”

You shake your head. “Nope.”

Your friend dramatically rolls his eyes at the obvious lie, a glimpse of a pretty smile tugging at the corners of his lips.  He shifts his weight on both his feet now as he disregards the locker room door by itself, prepared to make his way over to you now – and you can already feel the beat of your heart in the base of your throat with each step he takes. Because he’s looking bolder than the days before. More daring – defiant, almost. Ready to take on the challenge and not willing to lose anytime soon.

His entire aura screams fuck me in the janitor’s closet five minutes before your next class starts.

No.

No.

 ‘‘Tell me what you are into then.’’ His eyebrow cockily raises up on his forehead as his head just slightly tilts, knowing he’s got you stuck in place. The confident expression you had written on your face completely dismissed.  

 You can’t handle him.

You clear you throat, announcing your defeat. “You know I got you guys take out?’’ The high pitched undertone in your voice betrays you – but what else do you have in your power when he stands in front of you like this? The warmth of his body this close to you, you’re actually able to feel him? ‘‘Chinese.. take-out..’’

Both of his eyebrows raise up this time, the surprise coating his features perfectly. ‘‘What?’’ as his gaze shifts to the barely open bag hanging on to your fingertips, you feel a little less intimidated before him. “Seriously?” his tattooed fingers curl around the shoulder straps of his backpack, “I love Chinese take-out. You’re an actual angel.”

When he’s right in front of you, his gaze feels heavy on your shoulders. You tell yourself he’s only interested in the food, but there’s too little space between your bodies for that to be true. His cologne is even stronger this time and it makes your mind all cloudy.

“Uh.. It’s just,” you immediately stop talking as you feel yourself grow hot under his presence, stumbling over your own words before you attempt to gulp your nerves away. “Just some sweet sesame chicken with fried rice and egg rolls.. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Still an angel.” He smiles down at you, pinching the tip of your chin just slightly before taking his backpack off and hastily rummaging through it. “Let me pay you back.”

“Oh no,” You immediately try to reassure him, “Absolutely not, Jeon. Over my dead body. You guys trained for over 5 hours, this is the least thing I could do. ”

You watch him pull an eyebrow up, a small smile appearing on his features. As if asking you why you wouldn’t want the money. As if you’re the crazy one here.

“___” He goes, the stern warning in his voice not being dismissed. “You just bought an entire meal for a team of fifteen hungry men. It’d be disrespectful not to pay you back, honestly.”

“You’re not paying me back. End of conversation, Jeon.” You point an accusing finger his way, a cute smile on your face.

Nonetheless, your finger gets dismissed by him as he shakes his head in disapproval before rummaging through his backpack yet again.

Pulling out a rather small wallet, he opens up and goes through it.

“This should be enough.”

He holds the money in between two fingers in the air, pretty pink lips turning into a knowing smile when your eyes widen at the paper in his grip.

“That’s way too much, Jungkook.” A snicker leaves him when you cup your smaller hands over his bigger ones, pushing the 50 dollar bill back to his chest. “Way too much. Are you out of your mind?”

“Are you?” He challenges, eyebrows raising as he waits for you to say something, “I honestly don’t mind paying you back, ___. If anything, it would make me feel better knowing I paid for my own lunch.”

“I mind, though. We’re not doing this.”

“Come on,” He whined, tilting his head slightly but still remaining eye contact with you. “You bought me food, this is the least thing I can do.”

“I bought all of you food, not just you.” You correct him, pointing a long finger at him. He thinks it’s such an adorable act and can’t stop himself from wrapping his entire palm around your pointer finger. “You’ll treat me on Mexican next time, won’t you?’’

When your hand moves in its place to intertwine your fingers together, the last thing Jungkook does is protest. He proudly accepts your soft hand to take place in his own. His thumb gazes over the smooth skin as he can’t help the grin from appearing.

“You win.” He states in defeat, voice lowering a few volumes down until he goes mute, you almost don’t notice the “for now,” he mouths after.

Beats of silence pass between your figures. Your hands are still intertwined and there’s too little space between you to be seen as two average friends with platonic intentions only. The silence hanging in the air isn’t uncomfortable, but rather peaceful. 

You don’t see Jungkook that often, and that’s partly due to both of your packed schedules, growing stack of assignments, and his unending amount of training sessions in basketball court. Nevertheless, he is a great friend to you, and you’re grateful to share this friendship with him. You’re comfortable around him, and you’re sure it’s the other way around as well. That’s an obvious fact considering the way you’re standing here with him. Holding hands with giggly expressions on your faces. 

‘‘Stealing my girlfriend, Jeon?’’ 

It’s crazy how fast the distance between you and Jungkook enlarges within a second when the heavy locker room door comes to an abrupt open. You feel as shocked as you look like with the sudden change of atmosphere, eyes slightly wide when a startled, and rather uncomfortable smile finds its way on your lips.

That’s right; Jungkook kind of seemed to forget about this dude.

‘‘Oh I- uh.. we were just.. talking.’’ Jungkook manages to blurt out, fingers reaching out the scratch the back of his neck. 

‘‘I know. Don’t sweat it, man.’’ The new figure that enters the scene dismisses Jungkook somewhat faster than needed after his attempt on reassuring him, now centering his eyes on you. He stands in between you as if creating a shield around you – as if creating some sort of barrier between you. His hands are slightly up in the air, presumably ready to embrace you in his arms.

‘‘Minho..’’ His name trails off your lips in a rather hesitant manner, Jungkook can’t help but notice. ‘‘How did training go?’’ Your tone is so soft and delicate, filled with affection. 

The larger male takes a few more steps towards you, invading your space as his hands slip around the small of your back. You almost don’t notice the rest of the guys walking out of the locker room as well with him filling your sight, allowing them to have a front row seat on the scene unfolding in front of them. 

‘‘It went fine. What’re you doing here, hm?’’ His words are slightly mumbled before he pushes your body more against his own, his smell overtaking you. He barely gives you some time to process the question before his lips slam against yours, taking you in a hungry kiss. 

The guys watch the scene expand in front of their noses, a few ‘‘oohs’’ thrown in there when your boyfriend deepens the kiss even more, causing you to be thrown off guard a bit. 

‘‘Minho,’’ You try to speak in between the kisses, but he won’t budge. Nervous laughter manages to escape you, ‘‘We’re not alone.’’

Jungkook wants to look the other way a little too badly, but his eyes are somehow still glued on the show you’re currently putting out. He would rather not call the heavy feeling in his stomach something along the lines of disgust, but it’s hard for him not to with the way his insides are turning upside down.

“Better find a room for those two or we’ll be stuck here all day.” It’s Min Yoongi who snickers beside the damp haired boy, nudging his side with his elbow. But Jungkook can’t seem to laugh at the attempted joke. Instead, his fingers are tightening around the straps of his backpack once again, trying to collect his cool.

Your hand is carefully placed on your boyfriend’s chest in attempt to calm the kiss down before he finally quits the whole act all together.

‘‘Can’t even kiss my girlfriend now?’’ Jungkook wants to wipe the grin that's slowly but surely growing on his face off. And the feeling is only starting to increase when the large male turns back to his teammates, a disgusting smirk visible on his features. 

Such an ass.

Jungkook can’t help but scoff at the sight – and visibly so. He’s just using you to show off. 

‘‘I uh..’’ You start but trail off the rails soon enough, making the attention turn back to you, ‘‘I brought you guys some take out, you texted me that you guys have been training all day and I figured out-”

“You brought us take out?”

You don’t get to finish your sentence when Kim Namjoon speaks up from behind, eyes bulging out of his head before slipping past his teammates’ bodies. And even when he eventually stands before you, trying to peek inside the plastic bag in your hands, you can’t help but note the huge amount of height difference between you. No wonder his coach never let him rest on one of the benches during all the competitions played so far - he’s easily one of the tallest players on the field.

It doesn’t take a lot of peeking before a gasp escapes his lips, “Dude - she got them egg rolls, I’ve been craving those all week.’’ Eyes buckle out of his scalp, ‘’All damn week.”

Jungkook can see you shooting a warm smile at Namjoon from afar, content with the way it seems to light the male up – pretty dimples making an appearance as his nearly perfect set of teeth shine brightly in your view. He can almost compare you to a child who just gave their parents the perfect valentines gift, looking all bubbly and excited over this.

‘‘I got some chicken as well.’’ You thrillingly whisper to your side, another set of giggles escaping you once Namjoon, once again, is ready to attack that plastic bag in your grip.

‘‘I didn’t expect you to come with take-out, though.’’ Minho sighs heavily, catching your attention almost immediately as you look at him with a huge set of eyes. The tone of his voice is disgustingly sweetened up as he swallows you back into his embrace, hands dissolving around the small of your back, not caring about the remaining players gauging at the two of you from the other side of the hall. ‘‘We already made plans, babe.’’

You don’t hold on to him the same way he does to you, Jungkook notices. The bright gleam in your eyes from before has already disappeared, now replaced with a frown between your brows. And he hurts for you.

‘‘You can’t reschedule?’’ You ask hazily, almost afraid to ask the question. ‘‘I know Joon would like some take-out.’’ Your hair falls out of your face when you spare Namjoon a pretty glance from over your shoulder.

Yet your boyfriend shakes his head, ‘‘Not this time. You should’ve told me before you went all out to please my teammates like this, love.’’ He titters at his own joke, thinking he’s funny. Still, a few guys besides Jungkook seem to snicker a bit at your rosy-looking cheeks. But he can’t bash an eyelash.

If no one is going to say it, he will.

‘‘Of course we can reschedule.’’ Jungkook speaks up, catching the eyes of your boyfriend immediately, quickly followed by your own. ‘‘We can go for some fast food any other day.’’

When Minho raises a cocky eyebrow up his forehead, the question already written on his features, Jungkook heaves out a tired sigh.

‘‘Come on, man. She bought us an entire meal.’’ His open palm points to the bag, which is still hanging around your curled fingers, reddening the tips completely.  

‘‘It’s not like I asked her to.’’ He bites, almost as if what he had said offended him. ‘‘Right..?’’ He’s looking back at you now, fingers playing with the strands of your hair as he hides them behind your ears. An irky smile visible on his face.

‘‘Right.’’ He confirms once he sees you nodding, placing a hasty kiss on the soft surface of your cheek. ‘‘I’ll call you after. Promise.’’

You’re not worried about him not contacting you – that’s the least thing on your list you’re concerned about. But he doesn’t care. Will not now, will not ever.

‘‘Okay..’’ You manage to say, your voice coming out softer than you had expected. And even though his embrace hadn’t really done anything to warm you up, the void sweeping up to you once he leaves you in place feels a little heavier right now.

‘‘I’m out of here.’’ The guy states, convinced the other guys will follow after him when his hands are raised besides his head. As he turns around without a second glance your way, your eyes follow his figure until he’s out of sight, heading for the exit.

Namjoon, the one whose mouth was watering at the idea of take-out just a minute ago is the first one who breaks the uncomfortable silence. ‘‘Next time, little one.’’ He pats your head gently, making backwards steps to disappear in a second. ‘‘Thank you, though.’’ He’s shooting you an apologetic look before big steps follow your boyfriend’s down the stairs.

Min Yoongi is the next one who leaves the scene to what it is, followed by a few other guys. But unlike Namjoon, these guys don’t do much other than gifting you a few uneasy smiles — ready to leave as soon as possible. And for some reason, it makes you feel even worse.

The silence that follows when it’s just you and Jungkook standing in front of each other hurts more, though. You’re embarrassed, he can see that much.

“Come here.” Your friend spreads his arms for you to jump into, yet you don’t make a move to do exactly that. “We’ll get out of here and eat it together. It might be a little much—” He embraces you in his warmth when you don’t attempt anything, “but do you want to see how many rice cakes I can stuff in my mouth?”

You only glare at him, not having it in you to laugh at the attempted joke when your boyfriend’s irritated expressions occupies your mind.

“I know you’re tempted.” Jungkook wiggles his eyebrows at you, close to succeeding in cheering you up. And it nearly makes you want to give in and have just as a good time as Minho is about to have — but you don’t have the heart to do so.

Instead, your heart is seeking for validation.

Hence you decide to push him away. Only for you to doubt your previous actions for the upcoming few hours.

“It’s alright, Guk.” You smile at him, hand on his chest as you push him away. “I was gonna share some with my roommates anyways.”

The excuse sounds weak to the ear, even to you. But it’s not stopping you from making your way out of the hall before he seems to progress it, mind occupied with your insecurities.

[idontblushsrry]

Sesshomaru|| SFW Alphabet

A/N: Heheh he seggsy ft. a gender neutral reader

Word Count: 2140

A: Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Sesshomaru shows affection by cutting off the heads of those that would dare threaten you and overall ensuring your safety. He also lets you lay on him, whether in human form or demon form, the fact that he lets you lay on him, let alone be near him when he’s so vulnerable speaks volumes of your bond.

B: Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Sesshomaru doesn’t really do best friends, if he’s interested in you, he’ll make it known when he feels is most appropriate but otherwise you’re likely in his mind at least a subordinate or acquaintance at most.

C: Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

As stated before, Sesshomaru is a secret cuddler, even more surprising is the fact that he’s good at it. Sesshomaru’s cuddles are warm and fluffy and his arm wrapped tight around your waist makes you feel safe and secure. When he’s cuddling you, he’ll also bury his head into the junction between your neck and shoulder, to him this is where your scent is strongest and he loves to be reminded of it as the rest of your scent slowly blends into his.

D: Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Settling down for Sesshomaru is kind of a weird term, it takes a lot of explaining and even then he’s still confused. When you ask him about it though, he informs you that you’re more than welcome to stay at his castle, but part of his duty is patrolling his land. He can’t settle down but he swears to you that you’ll never want for anything so long as you allow him to stand by your side.

E: Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

To be honest, Sesshomaru would probably just drop you off at the nearest human settlement/demon settlement (if it’s a really bad breakup he’ll just leave you to fend for yourself). If Rin is particularly attached to you, he may feel bad internally but in his mind, she’ll have to understand that the two of you just weren’t meant to last.

F: Fiance(e) (How would they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Sesshomaru is kind of already engaged to you once you accept his courting offer. While he won’t be pushy about it, he does want to marry you as soon as possible. The moment you agree to marry him is the happiest day of his long life, and the whole affair is a week long festivity followed by a month long honeymoon.

G: Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Sesshomaru is by no means gentle. Maybe if pushed to the brink of desperation to where your life was in danger, he’d crack just a little bit, the aftermath of which he’d make some excuse to always be holding or carrying you. Overall though, he’s not really gentle but he doesn’t need to be, he more than makes up for it because he treats you like you’re a gift from the heavens and a grace to all living things.

H: Hugs( Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He doesn’t initiate hugs, ever. He lets Rin hug him and you but that’s about it. If anyone else tried to hug him, he’d cut their arms off and if anyone aside from Jaken or Ah-Un saw him receiving a hug they’d better start running.

I: I love you (How fast do they say the L-word)

Like with settling down, it takes some convincing and a lot of explanation on your part for him to understand how three words convey to you the depth of his devotion. The way he says ‘i love you’ isn’t through words (although he eventually does say so to make you happy) it’s through the way his gaze melts just a little bit when he sees you, it’s in the smile he gives no one but you, it’s in the way he’s willing to give up everything, just for you.

J: Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous)

When Sesshomaru gets jealous, it’s actually kind of serious. He doesn’t get jealous as he has no need to but seeing how Mukotsu stole you away from him and hearing how one of the thunder brothers tried to marry you made his blood boil with rage. If he hadn’t already disposed of Mukotsu he’d have made him die a slow death by Sesshomaru’s poison. Also, the fact that Inuyasha killed the thunder brothers is one of the few things he doesn’t begrudge his brother for.

K: Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Sesshomaru’s kisses are rough and demanding, even when he’s trying to be soft with you. Something in his nature that wants to assert dominance even in the tamest expressions of love. It’s not like you mind though, his kisses always leave you breathless and wanting more.

L: Little ones (How are they around children)

As evidenced by Rin (and kind of Kohaku), Sesshomaru is really good with kids. He’s just firm and uncaring enough to keep kids in line while still letting them play and explore. And deep, deep, deep down, he enjoys kids because of the almost naive outlook they have on the world, but he’d never admit that.

M: Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings with Sesshomaru are really nice and pleasant...until you have to pee. At which point it becomes an almost wrestling contest against a clingy cuddly demon who still wants to be pressed against his mate until time forces you both to wake up. It doesn’t help either that you’re likely sore from the night before.

N: Night (How are nights spent with them?)

The SFW version of a night with Sesshomaru usually consists of you telling Rin (and a bitter Jaken) stories around the fire. Rin will probably help you put your hair up before you go to sleep and when the little ball of energy finally collapses, you tuck her in and kiss her forehead. Sesshomaru in the meanwhile, would watch all of this from a distance, his superior senses negating any need to be close anyways; plus he prefers to watch over all of you from afar before sneaking under the covers next to you while you’re asleep.

O: Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Sesshomaru doesn’t necessarily mean to shut you out he just reveals information on a need to know basis. In addition to that, most of his thoughts are carefully revealed through small subconscious reactions or expressions that take you a while to even pick up on, much less interpret. Eventually though, he does become open with you, you become the only person in the world that he trusts with the full breadth of his secrets and vulnerability.

P: Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He’s a 50/50 split. He can be patient when he wants to, but sometimes people are moving too slow for his liking and he starts to feel his hand twitch with the urge to use his claws. To get him angry to the point of it being visible on his face or even to the point that he shifts into his demon form is something few (namely Inuyasha and Kagome) are capable of. With you though, he does get a little impatient, especially at the beginning when you didn’t understand his grunting, but never fully enraged to the point of transforming.

Q: Quizzes (How much would they remember about you?  Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Sesshomaru remembers things about you like your scent, what makes you happy, what makes you mad, etc., all very basic information for him. He doesn’t really bother to remember things like anniversaries or birthdays just for the simple fact that his concept of time is completely different to yours. He doesn’t see the point in celebrating anniversaries (he manages by noticing the changes in your scent when yalls anniversary is approaching) and he finds it amusing that you celebrate his birthday, he hates celebrating yours though because it just reminds him that you’re human and each year is closer and closer to an eternity he’ll have to inevitably spend without you.

R: Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Sesshomaru’s  favorite moment in your relationship was when Rin accidently likened you to a parental figure one day. You managed to keep it together, but the moment she got distracted you turned to him and just sobbed into the fluff of his tail. The memory still makes him laugh but you swore him to secrecy, and he fears ever so slightly what you’d do if he broke that vow.

S: Security (How protective are they? How would they like to be protected?)

Sesshomaru does all the physical protection in your relationship. He can sense danger better even when far away and has skills and senses that you really can’t compare to. Although, Sesshomaru never sees you as inferior to him, as long as you rub his head and shoo away Kagome whenever she tries to be too sisterly with him, he’s all good.

T: Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

As mentioned earlier, Sesshomaru, while he doesn’t care for anniversaries, definitely makes a big event out of showing his love to you. Although the two of you aren’t dating, you’re courting (or married), he still manages to make you feel like the most beautiful person on Earth when he takes you out. If your date isn’t a private personal affair, he’s making a big show of it. Everyone in the land will know that you are his and that you are incredible in every way (basically multiple feasts/parties held in your honor).

U: Ugly (What are some bad habits of theirs? (I’m gonna add arguments here because they aren’t on the prompt list I found))

A bad habit of Sesshomaru’s is his impatience. He can be patient, but it’s mostly a façade, one in place to maintain his cool, unbothered persona. Truth is, many things bother him and he tends to just bottle it up and let it build until it boils over. Now, he may snap at you, but it’s most likely that he’ll walk away to go hack at a tree and not speak to you for a while. This leads to his second bad habit, his aloofness. While Sesshomaru is always aloof, it’s not usually a bad thing. But if he gets into one of his moods and you push and push and push, it will cause an argument.

V: Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Sesshomaru isn’t concerned with his looks, he always looks flawless. 

W: Worry (changed bcus I don’t like how the original frames relationships)

Sesshomaru does worry about you a lot. He tries not to say anything or let it bother him but it seems like every second he’s reminded of your human fragility. One day for trip over a tree root, the next you poke your finger sewing Rin’s clothes, and just one after another until your damned birthday comes around again and he’s reminded of the fact that you’ll get old much faster than he will. Needless to say, he worries about you a lot.

X: (E)xes (Any previous relationship experience. How does that factor into your current relationship?)

He has some previous relationship experience, mostly from matches his mom set up or random hookups. You’re most likely his first and only serious relationship.

Y: Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner)

He thinks people who seek to gain power/get ahead through frivolous means to be some of the most distasteful scum of the Earth. Aside from that he doesn’t really dislike anyone, aside from humans, or half-demons, or other demons, or anyone weaker than him, or... we could be here all day, but he pretty much only likes you, Ah-Un, Rin, Kohaku, and sometimes Jaken

Z: Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Sesshomaru has never really had to sleep in a bed proper before you so he can just kinda fall asleep anywhere and be perfectly fine. His other skills include sleeping while standing and sleeping with his eyes open.

[cazzyvintage]

Just wanted to say that I really appreciate everything you write, and maybe could you write a NSFW alphabet for Laszlo? Hope you're having a good day!!

FOR MATURE AUDIENCES

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He is just the sweetest! He will be checking to make sure you are okay, that you feel satisfied, and then he would be so loving. Whispering words of kindness to you about how amazing you were. He would try his best to help clear you up as well and then hold you in his arm as you fall asleep.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Boobs. He loves your chest and he loves to rest his head on them during the day and then during sex smother his head in them, kiss them etc. He just can't get enough of them. He finds everything about your body beautiful but those he just adores.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

As contraceptives were very rare for that time if you didn't want to get pregnant he would have to pull out (please guys don't think that pulling out is a good way to prevent pregnancy it isn't) he enjoys seeing his cun fall on your body, dripping down you. It does however excite him to no end when you do let him cum inside you and then he sees it dripping out of you, showing how you were his.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He has masturbated to you. He's ashamed of it because it isn't gentleman like. Gentlemen should be able to resist their urges, wait until marriage but he just can't help it. You are so beautiful and because of his arm, he doesn't think he'll ever be able to be with you so he resorts to that instead.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He is not experienced at all. You would be his first time. He knows what he is doing though... roughly. He's read many books about it, he knows the inner workings of a man and a woman, he knows where all the best spots are for you, he knows exactly what to do to bring you the most pleasure but he doesn't have the practical experience and reading from a book is quite different than to put it in practice and therefore he would feel quite awkward at first.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Having you on top, riding him. Any position where you are on top he loves. He feels a bit guilty as he doesn't want you doing all the work but he loves being able to look up at you, see your boobs bounce, and in this position, he can make his deformed arm at least hold onto your leg whereas other positions his arm is basically useless.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He's very serious, he's a romantic at heart and therefore it would be a romantic experience for both of you so there isn't much space for humour. If something accidentally goes wrong such as clothes getting stuck on you or something he wouldn't laugh it off but start panicking.

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He takes pride in his appearance, his bread is always well-groomed and he tries to keep down below well groomed as well but it's harder for him with really only one hand of use. As for overall body hair, he has some on his chest, arms and legs but it isn't a lot.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He tries to make the moment so romantic because he wants to show just how much he loves and adores you. He'll be whispering lots of compliments to you, stroking and touching you all over. He might even try to make the scene romantic by bringing some wine to the bedroom.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

As mentioned before in D he does masturbate but he feels guilty about it afterwards, but he can't stop when he sees you about and he thinks he can't have you. After you two start courting though he doesn't as why masturbate when he can have you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Something we have discussed on my blog before in headcanons and what I will eventually make into a one-shot is that Laszlo has a mummy kink. The books already confirmed for us that he has mummy issues so it isn't a far stretch. He loves being praised and being called a good boy. He wants to do anything to please you and make you feel good so that you might reward him. He loves your breasts and he loves to suck on them, it brings him a sense of comfort as he does so. And of course, he loves to refer to you as mummy.

He also loves being told what to do. He gets so anxious and worried, doubting himself and that can affect him in the bedroom so when you take over and start telling him what to do, what you like he will instantly do just that and love surrending his power over to you for you to order him to do whatever you want him to

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

Bedroom. He's a traditional guy, times like that are saved for the bedroom. It is after all the most comfortable place for both of you. However... if the urge comes over you two at the institute, and it's a big need, he doesn't mind pushing you onto his desk in his office, having you sit on it so that you two are facing each other as you go at it

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Honestly, he loves you so much and has been deprived of touch for such a long time that you could the simplest of things and he would instantly be turned on. But somethings that really get him going is if you win in a debate about something, like for example the correct quote from one of Shakespeare's plays, your intelligence really turns him on especially when you use it against him or prove it to him that you know something better than him. Referring to him as stuff as well like 'good boy' while making him become really flustered makes him so turned on.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Degradation, he loves you so much he couldn't cope with being rude or insulting you, even if that's what you wanted, he would feel so bad about it. He also doesn't like slapping or spanking you, not only does it trigger memories of his childhood he doesn't want to hurt you like that, even if it was for your pleasure.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves giving oral, he has studied female autonomy so he knows exactly what goes on down there and where everything is, he knows how best to stimulate you and get you quivering to his tongue and his fingers. He loves to please you and he finds it easier than traditional sex because of his arm. He does enjoy receiving oral as well but he would never ask you for it. Only if you bring it up would it ever happen. He likes running his fingers through your hair though as you go down on him, as even with his deformed arm he can gently put his fingers in your hair and move your head gently.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

For the most part, they are slow and sensual, he wants to treasure the moment and savour it so he likes to take his time to feel all of you, experience all of you, but when he gets in one of his moods sometimes he really needs a fast and rough moment with you to get all of the stress and build up tension in him out, but those happen rarely as he is worried about accidentally hurting you while doing it.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are also very rare, like said above he wants to take his time with you, while quickies can be fun he doesn't experience as much joy as he might when he takes things slowly. However, when you two go at it in his office they are usually quickies as you are both at risk of having someone walk into the office at any moment.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Only if you discuss what you want to do beforehand, and when I say discuss I mean have hour-long conversations about it. He needs time to prepare himself if you would like to experiment with something. And even then he might not agree with it, he doesn't practically like taking risks especially if something negative could come of it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Around twice, he has moderate stamina but it can be affected by what position he is in and what he is doing, if he is on top he might not last that long because of his arm, he finds it hard holding all his weight on just one arm when he is on top of you. But in other positions such as when you are on top, his stamina can much longer.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't own any toys but if you had any he wouldn't be opposed to using them, depending on what toys they were. Because of the time, it was harder to access such things and they were a lot less developed so he would prefer just more traditional sex without them but if you wanted to try them he would be willing.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He doesn't like to tease you much, he might say something suggestive to you hinting at what he would like to happen tonight but that is as far as it goes for him, however, he loves it when you tease him, it makes him super flustered and stuttering on his words as his mind can only think of you and what you have said but he loves it.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He actually moans and groans quite loudly, he loses himself in the feeling of being inside you that he forgets really that he is making noises, he just wants to express how you are making him feel and that comes out in the way he grunts and groans into your neck or breasts as he feels himself getting closer to his climax.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He usually likes to have sex before bed, enjoying the passion in the night, letting go of the stress gathered from the day and just relax being with you pleasuring you and himself but he also likes starting off the morning with it as well. You might wake up to find his lips already on your neck, sucking a hickey onto your neck, his fingers already tracing down your legs and edging towards your core.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He's a little on the larger size dick, but he would blush at the thought of ever bragging about it. It would certainly be enough to fill you whole and make you feel the most amount of pleasure.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Higher than he would like to admit. After spending such a long time alone thinking he would never be a woman he craves you touch almost every moment, he needs to be in you, you feel you around him, but he also doesn't want to wear you out so he tries to restrict himself but it still ends up being at least five times a week.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He tries to stay up and let you fall asleep first, truly he does, he wants to watch you sleep and just admire how perfect you are but having sex can tire him out quite a bit till he accidentally falls asleep first, and you find it adorable watching him.

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[judge-claude-frollo-of-paris]

The lightweight of her palm on him brought a shiver down his tense body. Concern and care brightened those beautifully jade eyes, piercing into his. She stood so close, he could have easily pulled her body to his, pressed his lips to hers, and hushed those incessant pleas.

Damn this charade. Damn this personality she thought he was. Damn this unfathomable scheme for working as well as it has.

Frollo hadn't intended for his distant viewing to be anything more than that. At least, not without having his men at ready. He needed their awareness of the matter lest his life be lead blissfully down the gallows to certain demise in vain. He needed the court to be discovered at all cost.

Frollo took a glance around the room, noting only the bartender's attention in their direction thus far despite their commotion. Suddenly, an idea occurred.

"Esmeralda, I am humbled by the volume of your generosity." Frollo sighed, lightly covering her hand with his, "You've convinced me. I will go with you."

He went to hug her briefly in appreciation before pulling back, hands holding her arms gently. He looked over to the bar.

"Wait here a moment, if you would. I'd like to purchase some bread for us to take back. It is a small gift, but one I would love to give to thank you." Frollo willed himself to move swiftly away from her in a show of eagerness.

Once at the bar, assuring no one could hear his whisper to the man having taken notice of him approaching, Frollo revealed a red jeweled ring from within his cloak. Watching the man's eyes widen in realization, Frollo rose a finger to his lips to silence him, and quickly stated, "Monsieur Louis, take this. Have a guard send this to the captain. Say: there will be a revolt in two days at dawn. That I am being taken to their court. Prepare for battle, with or without me."

The bartender nervously took the luxurious item from him and gave a subtle nod.

"Good. Now hand me a bundle of bread and go about as you have. Remember the girl but do nothing."

Just as brief as their exchange did Jacques return to Esmeralda, holding out the freshly baked goods.

"I hope it is enough... It was all I could afford."

judge-claude-frollo-of-paris​:

Frollo quirked a brow at her surprising response. The irony illuding her, no doubt. A smile returned in silent agreement.

Just as he meant to leave, she called to him once more. Caught in mid-flight out the door, Frollo saw her own uncertainty war within. A divine figure of beauty in flesh, or carved of marble he could protest, dancing dangerously close to the truth.

 "There is a place I have been resting since I have arrived to the city. But dear girl, I am afraid it is unbearably far and rather unsightly.“ Abashed, Jacques looked away, clasping his hands in front of him.

“Never you mind, it is like any other a nomad must encounter on our journeys,” he gazed back at her in determination. “Nothing can dissuade me from what we have planned for the future, Esmeralda.”

 Frollo, needing to regroup with his men and prepare for what’s to come, feels his mind plead for the unthinkable. A glint of hope that the woman he has pined for fiercely would desire him back. Heart obscuring sanity, an urgency rises by the minute.

There was no thought to it. A man once confident, composed, and brave had shifted into a rattle state. Witnessing this only pained her more than it should have. She didn’t have it in her heart to risk his safety… but what about hers and her peoples? Already, she could hear Clopin scolding her in her ear and wagging that lanky fingered glove at her. The thought only made her cringe. A heavy gulp hesitantly ran down her throat. She was so close to having her prayers answered and couldn’t risk anything getting in the way.

Esmeralda made a rash decision, as she occasionally does, and hurried over to him, making sure they were in ear shot of one another. Catching whatever breath that may have fallen behind, she gently rested a hand on his shoulder.

“I couldn’t bare the thought of Frollo arresting you. Come with me… Please… I have to look out for you. Just like you are with me…” Her tone was soft, but apprehensive. It was obvious by now, she cared for Jacques.

“We can finish the plan there, away from everyone else. You’ll be safe, I swear.”

Even though she was listening to his words, she was trying to persuade him into this.

[ricadiosa]

in today’s reminder to maintain our standards:

do not be afraid to walk away from something, even if it seems great on the surface.

i won’t be going into too much detail as i’ve been enjoying being a touch more private when it comes to my love life. however this warrants sharing i believe.

one of my most recent suitors had to be let go. he had been pursuing me for months to no avail at first (along with secretly eyeing me for TWO YEARS… something he admitted to me on our first and only official date). i knew how i was feeling about him and what i’m ultimately looking for, so within approximately two weeks of us beginning to truly to get to know one another, i ended it. not because he wasn’t trying to come heavy with the princess treatment. (best believe he was.) it’s just that there were some yellow and eventually red flags that popped up. including when it felt like he was using a particular financial offer to give me an ultimatum. i won’t say just how much, simply that it was in the thousands, it was something i needed immediately, and was already planning on getting for myself. he offered to cover the entire cost as long as i “gave him his job”, aka, say yes to being his girlfriend. and that’s what did it for me (among other things not listed in this entry). there is nooo way i am going to say yes to exclusivity and titles after only ONE date! not even two, three, etc. no matter how handsome and/or wealthy you are. courting and convincing me properly takes time. it doesn’t matter that you’ve had your eye on me for a long while. i have only just begun to notice and get to know you, so how unfair it is to expect me to rush my feelings. it’s even more offensive that he would choose to dangle money over my head as though i’m some pet whom he can make dance. if anything, him stepping up to alleviate that need as a token of his affection and courtship would have spoken volumes to me. a “yes” still wouldn’t be on the table yet, but the gesture would’ve caused me to consider leaning in more for sure.

another issue for me was his persistence on the topic of sex (and even kids?!) after i had already expressed to him my current indecision regarding having children, as well as my desire to wait until marriage. of course when i ended things with him he begged profusely to make it right. claiming that he would in fact be willing to wait, blah blah blah. repeating how i “need to give him a chance in my life”. but that’s it, it’s over. when it comes to this more excellent version of me, my yes is yes and my no is no. told him to go invest in another woman. we don’t bluff or backtrack over here. no amount of money, fancy dates, etc is worth my peace. gifts? money? adoration and more? i LOVE all of that, no question. it’s what i deserve and require. however, i also require that it come from suitors (and eventually that one special person) with whom i truly feel safe, share a beautiful bond, and enjoy what they bring to my life.

he told me i was breaking his heart, and for that i have some empathy (assuming he wasn’t already trying to play me) as it was not my intention. never is, as i know all too well how much it hurts to hope deeply for something to work. i even told him to imagine how terrible he would feel had i kept going only to end things six months, or a year from now. his heart probably wouldn’t be able to take it. also, if anything, i have learned best from men that we need to be very selfish when it comes to who we give access to us. majority of these men (even the best of them) are not afraid to move on swiftly, and will cut through whoever and whatever, to get to what they want in love or lust. no matter the cost. pure heartlessness is something i have vowed to NEVER employ. however, putting myself first always is now a must. and that is just what i did in this situation.

so yes, the reminder here as i said is to walk away. better is out there. you don’t have to settle for someone who only checks certain key boxes, but not the others. even when it comes to suitors and general courtship. there’s no need to continue just because you want to go out to fancy places or be treated to nice things, if your peace and morals are being called into question. here’s to moving forward with faith and continuing to only accept what we are truly worth in TOTALITY.

xx

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello! I read your headcanons of how Azul, Riddle, Malleus, Epel and Silver would try to court Reader and I wonder if you could do the same, with Ruggie, Jack, Jade, Floyd and Sebek?

“Courting...that’s serious business. Once you pick a mate--and that mate chooses you, you’re together forever, so you can afford to be choosy. What, me? Hmph. That’s not something I need to be concerned with right now.”

If you want to read the same prompt but for Azul, Riddle, Malleus, Epel, and Silver, check those out here.

***Warning: mild spoilers for chapter 5 and Ace’s Groom For A Day personal story (part 2)!***

Curiouser and Curiouser...

He plucks little dandelion bouquets for you! Regularly, Ruggie would eat them in a salad or a stir fry, but he’s willing to sacrifice a few dandelions just to see you smile.

If you ever need anything done, Ruggie’s the first to jump and offer to help you out. He’s already used to running errands for Leona-san, so he insists that it’s no trouble at all to also run errands for you!

Ruggie picks up a few extra odd jobs (at the Mostro Lounge and Mr. S’s shop!) and saves up Madol to buy you small trinkets.

He plays his heart out in Magical Shift! He’ll play even harder if you mention coming to one of his games. Watch Ruggie pull off a bunch of cool tricks he taught himself while he plays--look, look, let’s upside down on his broom! Neat, right?

Cracks lots of jokes! Ruggie loves talking casually and being able to make you giggle. Please laugh more and more with him.

He’s still pretty curt when it come to speaking with you, but he makes sure to smile more. And his tail? It’s always instinctively wagging when he’s around you.

Jack will spend more time with you! He’ll find himself offering to walk you and from class. When you finally get to your destination, Jack tends to linger like a lovesick puppy until you vanish from his sight.

He’ll show you his cactus children! O-Only if you want to see, of course. Jack beams with pride as he tells you about each one. Hopefully you find them as interesting as he does!

Jack will play to his strengths! Need help with your textbooks or moving something heavy? Jack’s your guy. He already excels in  P.E., too--whenever Jack pulls off an impressive physical feat, his head will whip in your direction to gauge your reaction.

If letting you touch his ears and tail is what will get your attention, then so be it. Jack will allow it--even has he stiffens and blushes a bit at your touch. He wouldn’t mind doing this every day, you know...

Expect nothing but honeyed words from Jade. He has a silver tongue, and he knows it, that bastard. He’ll use that to his advantage to make you blush and squirm.

Along with sweet words, Jade will always “accidentally” touch you, be it brushing his fingers against yours when you’re reaching for the same book, or bumping into you at just the right moment to send your papers flying. Oh dear--let him help you with that. It’s not as though he had this orchestrated from the start, fufu.

He’ll cook for you! Not in the Mostro Lounge--he insists on a more...private setting. Perhaps your place--or his? Jade promises he will prepare an extravagant meal for two.

Jade will send you flowers--nothing too extravagant, just a few of them here and there, straight from the Botanical Gardens. Other times, he’ll send mushrooms. He cultivated them himself--isn’t he so caring?

You can always rely on him to be a shoulder to cry on. Jade offers soothing words and wipes away your tears with a gentle smile. You’re playing right into his hands. Ah, but it feels so sweet and comforting that you just let yourself fall into the abyss of his love.

Floyd straight up says that he “loves you” every single day. He makes sure to remind you plenty, too--he somehow always manages to sneak the phrase into conversations.

Demands praise! Like, allll the time! Look, look! He just squeezed this naughty runaway guppy of Azul’s! Didn’t he do suuuch a good job? Give him compliments and head pats now!

Glomps you without warning. He’ll lurk around corners and attack you when you least expect it--like some shark charging at you in the water. It’s going to be hard to shake him off--Floyd hangs all over, pressing his weight against you and nearly causing you to topple over!

If he’s in the mood to see you, he’ll drop whatever he’s doing (be it class or his shift at the Mostro Lounge) and come seek you out! Eh? What do you mean you don’t have time to hang out right now? That’s okay. Floyd will just toss you over his shoulder and haul you off to play anyway.

He’s not tactful at all in his “courting” (if you can even call it that). Floyd tries to monopolize all of your time, and he gets whiny if he thinks you’re paying too much attention to other stuff! If you question him about it, he’ll be extra cheeky and ask, “Eeeeh? I thought we were pretty much already dating~”

Sebek tries to court you by using Lilia’s outdated dating advice. That means he’s going to send you letters--and several of them. Each one seems to be longer than the last, and every three letters, he’s sure to include a photograph of him smiling in it.

Tones down all of his shouting about Malleus-sama. While Sebek continues to devote his life and body to the Young Master, he is aware that a potential partner would not enjoy having their ear talked off about some other man. Sebek wants to make himself come across as agreeable and available!

He generally has a better control over his volume! If he talks too loudly, that might frighten you--though he also (unintentionally) laughs harder and louder when he’s with you, flashing his little fangs as the while.

He fusses over you! If you look the slightest bit tired, Sebek will swoop in with a cup of tea or the offer of assisting you with your schoolwork to lighten your load and send you off to bed sooner.

Sebek invites you to read with him. He has a selection of novels that you can borrow, and you can even discuss them with him if you like. He’s able to give recommendations if there’s nothing in his collection that catches your eye. If you’d like, he can be a part of your story.

[aiylabaysal]

Aiyla narrowed her eyes, the corners creasing as she looked at him, "Is that what you want?" She asked firmly, not ready to take silence or Fae trickery as an answer. Still hovering eye level she looked him directly in the eyes and spoke before she could think better of it, "Nothing is holding you hostage here," she did not want to keep anyone from going where they wanted, to keep a member of court who would rather not be there. She softened with her next breath, some anger waning into something indiscernible, at least for the breadth of the next sentence, "You don't have to be here, in the court if that isn't what you want." Aiyla spoke quietly, avoiding eye contact a moment. She didn't want him to leave the court or tocease existing in either manner, but Aiyla learned a long time ago you can not beg people to stay when they want to go. "You realize that is death, right?" She pointed out, "You'll come back and look the same but you won't be the same. This life, everything will just be memories for others, because whoever you come back as you won't be Suresh again," Aiyla worried, brows knitting harshly together, to be so willing to end it all she thought he must have been suffering a great deal. Her chest squeezed in that uncomfortable way it often did, and she ignored the empathy, much favoring at the moment the indignant anger that, while red hot, tended to simmer quickly.

"Do you resent me because she chose me and not you?" Aiyla asked unwavering in her pursuit of something she didn't know if she actually wanted or not. She looked to him, wandering for the first time how much did he actually know about her from before? Did Hazal tell him anything or was it all doled out in pieces that she had forgotten about? "Do I understand having something that belongs only to me?" she repeated with a huff. Had anything ever been hers? All of it seemed to slip through her fingers the moment she became comfortable with it, reminding her nothing was permanent. No matter how terribly she wanted something, how hard she worked to earn it, how much she loved it, it often felt doomed to be taken from her. Wasn't that the way of life? A pained, non-verbal sound followed his words, the indignation, the righteous anger, hers or his, she could no longer tell. "You don't need to remind me of what is out there, Suresh!" She shouted, her anger and grief flaring in equal measure, "You are not the only Faerie to have lost something, to lose everything," Aiyla practically sobbed, the sound tearing from her graveled and raw, the rims of her eyes reddened with unshed tears that she willed away. Her fingernails biting into the palm of her hand. When she spoke again her voice had fallen in volume, the tone she carried strained with a multitude of emotion. "I have no idealizations on the sort of man you are," she confirmed and added, "I foolishly care anyway." Aiyla paced close enough that she could have reached out and shoved him, "Because she did, and because you're older," Aiyla reasoned. "Life isn't fair, but you get up, do what you're supposed to do, and try to make something of whatever long, disappointing life you have to live. It's better than the alternative," she concluded firmly.

"So never love or care because someone might hurt you," it was not an accusation but an understanding. It was a sentiment that, in some ways, felt familiar to her. If she were to fall in love, she knew she'd do it quietly rather than face unstable magic that came with a broken heart. "I have thought you plenty of things," Aiyla paused but did not list them off as she so petulantly wished to. Instead, she said, "Unaware had never been one." She didn't care for how he presented the truth, the awful twisting feeling it put inside of her to have him say it the way he did, " I bid for no one. I knew it couldn't have been as simple and easy as they were saying," Aiyla spoke, knowing it wasn't what he meant. She didn't want to face the truth, and for a moment, she wondered if even he knew what his words had implied to her. Aiyla was only significant for what she could do and what she represented, nothing more.

Aiyla stared a moment, quiet and trembling with memory. Pressing her teeth together, she decided it was better to show him all at once. So she showed him her memory of that day via a carefully orchestrated illusion that left no vital detail out. She skipped over the attack, unable to face the iron-wrought ache that attempted to pluck away her wings. Instead, she went right into what Hande had shown her, every unforgettable detail of the horror her first mother had participated in. Once it finished, Aiyla dropped the illusion, and everything was exactly as it was. She was quiet momentarily before speaking directly to him, "I thought you deserved to know."

Suresh grit his teeth, his lip curling upward in distaste. "So let it be then. Perhaps I should crumble into fairy dust right now and find some other corner of the globe to haunt. Then I shan't even remember what I've missed. A whole new life beyond this." His own voice faltered a bit, a flickering instant of self-awareness. Despite his successes, despite the discretionary funds that had allowed him to wrap himself in liquor, and clothing, and belongings, despite the endless parade of conquests that moved through this bloody suite, he still had some sense that he did not have what he desired or needed in this goddamn life, whatever that was. He sniffed.

"What? What is it you have wanted? Out with it. Treat it as a royal edict and proclaim it loud now," he retorted bitterly. He did not want to lead the Fae; he knew how dreadful he would be at such a task. But there had once been peace, quiet, a bubble in which to conceal himself. No one asked him for a damn thing. And now, there were forces on the outside, internal and external, threatening to encroach on this well-earned space. He could do nothing but thrash like a cornered beast. "I hide up here because....it's mine, Aiyla. It's bloody mine. Why should I not be here? Do you understand?" He narrowed his eyes. "Do you care for me? Or do you care for what you think I might be? An idea of me? Am I anything but cruel and selfish and callous? Have I ever been? Do you think I came to Lunar Cove to sing happy songs around the campfire? I came here because out there, out there there is nothing. Nothing. Here, what I have is this." He clicked his tongue, averting his gaze as he gestured about the room. Looking back, he allowed his featured to harden. "Ah. And what have I done to deserve to be the vessel of your misguided expectations? Our lives are long. Disappointment is something we all have to carry."

Swallowing, Suresh actually cowered a bit in that moment, a physical retreat, a deflation of his wound-up frame. "I am Fae. I can speak only truths. Those whom I have mustered an ounce of love for have done nothing but fail me. I shan't allow it to happen again." He closed his eyes, stiffening. "Perhaps I like the trap. Perhaps it is better than the alternative, to be alone without it. Do you think I am unaware that I was locked in that ballroom only through my own actions? If I had not bid, I would have walked free. No one else would have deigned to keep me there, nor did anyone deign to come looking when it was done. Nyra bid for you and only you. Why? To save the Court? To save the species? Preservation is so nice wrapped in the right bow, is it?"

Meeting her eye, Suresh narrowed his own. "And what did you see of her then?"

[eggtoasties]

Pairing: Eventual Osamu x Reader

Rating: E for fucking Samu in the car :-)

Word Count: 4.4k of Miya twin shenanigans, fluff, then eventual smut

Summary: A hopeful love and a blossomed love; years of wishing on candles and they’re both content.

a/n: @powderblew​ ur the hopeful love my beloved

Contrary to popular belief, Miya Atsumu does not speed. Yes, he nearly loses his mind on the interstate every other day but his road rage is completely contained to cursing in the confines of his car. Most people think Atsumu’s the reckless driver with his loud personality and penchant for pulling off risky moves on the court, but surprisingly, it’s his counterpart who fully believes that the actual speed limit is at least ten above the posted signage and weaves through lanes with one hand on the wheel and the other on her thigh.

Atsumu got Osamu the car as a birthday gift—black, sleek, and quiet. He had been dropping hints for weeks but Osamu had brushed them off, figuring his brother was spewing incoherent nonsense.

It was the weekend before their birthday. They decided to take a trip to the mountains—it was rare at this point in their young adult lives to have the free time to spend with each other. Osamu was busy with the shop: serving customers, preparing food, and trying new dishes. Getting Onigiri Miya off the ground was a seven day work week with early mornings and late nights. Atsumu on the other hand, had regularly scheduled practices and travel matches with the team. Although his schedule was incredibly hectic, there was a sort of rhythmic regularity to it.

So, for the first weekend in a long time where it would be just them, Atsumu wanted it to be special. Afterall, it was their birthday. Atsumu was the one who drove them to the campsite, taking in the scenery with appreciation, going slowly on the winding roads while mindlessly tapping a beat on the steering wheel. As they got closer and closer to their destination, Osamu could tell his brother was antsy.

His eyes would flicker from the road, to Osamu, then back again. His mindless tapping to the music turned into an incessant drilling and he kept readjusting his legs and changing his hand position on the wheel, fidgeting in his seat.

“Wouldya’ quit that, yer gonna crash the fuckin’ car,” Osamu said, exaggeratingly clutching to the grab handle at the top of his window.

“Yer really gonna yell at me on ma’ birthday that’s jus’ like ya’ Samu—”

“It’s ma’ birthday too ya’ idiot!”

The sound of his brother’s bickering quelled Atsumu’s nerves and he settled in the driver’s seat, humming along to the song playing on the speakers. In response, Osamu turned up the volume, but Atsumu just grinned.  

“You will arrive at your destination in .2 miles,” the smooth voice of the GPS chimed.

Atsumu began fidgeting again and Osamu swore he was gonna punch him the moment they made it out of the death trap.

They pulled into the winding driveway and Osamu banged his head against the dashboard.

“Please tell me ya’ didn’t screw up the reservation,” he said quietly.

“What kinda idiot, do ya’ take me for, Samu?” Atsumu whined. Although Osamu couldn’t see with his forehead pressed against the polished wood interior, Atsumu was smiling.

“Then why is there another car parked in our spot?” Osamu deadpanned, turning his head to his brother, still pressed into the dash.

“Look again an’ eat yer words ya’ scrub.”

Driving slowly forward towards the car and parking next to it, Osamu realized that a bright red bow was tied to the hood. He stilled in his seat and stared dumbly out his window, slowly turning towards his brother.

“Do ya’ like it, Samu?” Atsumu nearly whispered, leaning in close to his brother, eyes wide, committing every micro reaction to memory.

Osamu blinked once. Twice. Then turned back to the car.

“Yeah, Tsumu,” he said shakily, “I really do.”

Against the burning in his throat and the tightening of his eyes, Osamu willed himself to remain composed when he heard rustling. Atsumu took out a crumpled and worn piece of notebook paper, its edges frayed and torn and began to smooth it out in his palms.

He cleared his throat and stared at the empty space across Osamu’s shoulder.

“So, uh…” he began, uncharacteristically shy and Osamu sent a prayer that this wasn’t a speech about how Tsumu had somehow accidentally razed Onigiri Miya to the ground in the short period that he wasn’t there and this was all an elaborate apology.

“I know that this year’s been tough with Onigiri Miya jus’ startin’ out an’ everythin’ but I jus’ wanted to say,” Atsumu trailed off and scratched his ear before suddenly, startling Osamu, squaring his shoulders and directing a piercing stare into his brother’s eyes. “I’m so proud of you Samu!” he nearly yelled, face flushed with embarrassment.

Osamu felt the heat prickle against his neck and all he could do was blink owlishly at his twin.

“What on Earth are ya’ goin’ on about?” he questioned incredulously.

“Okay, okay, wait I wrote it all down,” Atsumu said quickly, smoothing the worn paper once again. He cleared his throat a few times before reading.

“Osamu—”

“Oh my god is this a proposal, why is this so formal?” Osamu asked out loud.

“God, shut yer big ol’ trap wouldya I am tryin’ here,” Atsumu bit back to the amusement of his twin. “Anyways,” he grumbled. “Samu. I’ve been thinkin’ for a while and I jus’ wanted to say thank ya’ for always bein’ there for me.”

Osamu did not often feel stupid. Well, that’s a lie, he thought. It’s been a year since Onigiri Miya’s opening and he was only just beginning to feel as if he was able to call his job stable and that he had a solid understanding of how things should be ran. However, it was not often that his brother made him feel stupid, but here he was, at a loss for words at this uncharacteristic show of appreciation.

Yes, high fives and hugs had always come easily after a particularly clean hit or a perfectly executed pass, but they never sat down like this and talked about how much they appreciated each other. Osamu figured it was unsaid in the little things—how the clothes Atsumu stole in high school always ended back clean in Osamu’s closet, how Osamu usually ended up making two bentos when they still lived together, or how Atsumu had always tried to include Osamu in team bonding even when Osamu was in college.

“I think,” Atsumu said, breaking Osamu out of his thoughts. “That you were what made me work so hard at volleyball. Not because you were the only one that could challenge me,” Osamu scoffed at this. “But because you were the only one I cared to play with for a long time.”

Tears pricked at his eyes and Osamu nodded at his brother to continue.

“An’ thinkin’ back, yer probably the only reason why ma’ teammates didn’t excommunicate me like they did to Tobio-kun,” Atsumu joked and Osamu cracked a smile despite the burning of his throat.

“An’ I know we’ve talked about this before, but I am still really sorry when I went off on ya’ when ya’ told me you were quittin’ volleyball. I don’t mean to beat a dead horse or anything—”

“You sound like Baa-chan,” Samu choked out, still trying to hold back tears, hands balled into fists on his lap.

Undeterred, Atsumu continued to read. “But the fact that fer the first time, ya’ wouldn’t be by my side on the court was jus’ never a possibility I’d considered. So ‘m sorry ‘bout the fuss I made even though I know that’s all old news.” He paused and nodded at Osamu, noting his fists and drew in a shaky breath.

“’Samu, I jus’ want to let ya’ know that I am so endlessly proud to be yer brother and all the work ya’ put in in college and startin’ Miya Onigiri honestly scared me a little,” he said chuckling. “The way you really focus in on somethin’ when yer concentrating was always so intense, but I’d only really seen it with volleyball. But ever since you went to college, and especially with this past year, I can’t believe I fought you to go pro with me because I’d never seen ya’ more fired up or intense than ya’ have been this past year.”

The sides of Atsumu’s paper begin to tear with the force of his grip, and both twins are mirror images of each other. Red in the face, hands in fists, and willing the other to cry first.

“Basically,” Atsumu drawled on, hands slightly shaking, “thank ya’ for bein’ the best brother and teammate I coulda’ ever asked for and I’m so, so, proud to be the brother of the founder of Onigiri Miya.” He lowered the paper from his line of vision and accidentally crumbled it with his hand as he blurt out, “And I love you!” turning even redder in embarrassment. “Even though ya’ never respond to my texts and make fun a’ me when I bring my teammates ‘round,” he quickly added in.

Osamu undid his seatbelt and forcefully opened his door. He heard Atsumu’s confused “huh” and watched as he fumbled with his seatbelt through the windshield as he crossed to the other side. Atsumu stumbled out of the driver’s seat and Osamu captured him in a bone crushing hug. One hand wrapped around his back and the other held Atsumu’s head as he cried into his neck.

He thought back to the first semester of culinary school when he questioned himself every single day if it was the right choice to have made. Learning and practicing different techniques that felt foreign was a hurdle that had seemed impossible at the time. Then, when he graduated and he figured he knew almost everything there was to know about the food industry after hours and hours of lab, internships, and class and began preparations for opening Miya Onigiri, he realized once again that he knew nothing. Even a year after founding Miya Onigiri and he still found himself doubting his success.

But, hearing his idiot brother tell him he was proud—was all he needed. Because Miya Osamu also pushed himself to the upper limits of his physical and mental abilities because his brother was the only one he wanted to compete with. It didn’t matter who else might try and challenge them, at the end of their finish lines, the only person they wanted to see was each other.

The autumnal air was incredibly crisp and although the forest surrounding their luxury cabin was teeming with life, time around them seemed to still as they both cried.

“This is too much, ‘Tsumu,” Osamu sniffled out. “My gift ta’ ya’ was literally like, two hundred dollars.”

“It’s okay,” sniffled Atsumu. He paused. “What’d ya’ get me?”

Osamu pulled away and wiped his face with the bottom hem of his sweater.

“I got ya’ a signed copy of that book you were yappin’ on about with yer favorite author and I got her to make a video for ya’ sayin’ happy birthday and all that—”

“Oh my god,” Atsumu said excitedly, “Yer tellin’ me ya’ got Sonia Barnes to write me a handwritten message and a private video!?”

Osamu grimaced at the snot Atsumu had dripping down his chin. “First of all don’t say it like that, an’ second of all, wipe yer nose or somethin’ ya’ scrub.”

Completley ignoring his brother’s complaints, Atsumu lunged at Osamu, begging him to show him the video. Osamu tapped at his phone, opened up the email attachment, and watched the myriad expressions of surprise, admiration, love, and happiness flicker across Atsumu’s face during a 20 second video while red eyed and swollen. He mused that this was possibly the best birthday they ever had.

.

“Let’s take this baby on a test drive,” Osamu said, eagerly waiting by the door as Atsumu watched his birthday video for the umpteenth time.

That Sonia Barnes was a very pretty lady, Osamu reasoned, but if he had to hear her chirp, “Happy Birthday Tsumu!” one more time, she was going to be the cause of fratricide.

.

Settling into the leather seat, Osamu pressed the start button and nearly cooed at the soft rumble of the engine.

Throwing himself into the passenger’s seat Atsumu said, “Let’s figure out how ta’ connect to Bluetooth so I can hear ma’ angel on speaker,” fiddling with the touch screen.

Osamu grabbed Atsumu’s phone and threw it in the backseat and put the car in drive just as Atsumu started to clamber in the back for it. He peeled down the driveway as Atsumu screamed and picked up speed down the secluded road as Atsumu managed to get back in his seat and secure the seat belt.

The pretty autumn foliage was a blur of orange and reds and Osamu breathed in the smell of new leather and wood polish.

“S-slow down!” Atsumu yelled, quickly activating the lock function on the seatbelt and gripping the grab handle with both hands. “I-is this b-because I told the whole team you’d giv’ em’ free food if they said they were my teammate,” he screamed, “I’ll tell ‘em nevermind!”

Osamu rolled down the windows and the sun roof and laughed as the wind ran through his hair while his brother cried for the second time that day.

.

A year later and Osamu’s still in the driver’s seat of his car, but this time, she’s in the passenger’s seat. They have all the windows down and he’s speeding along the coast of Hyogo, sea breeze whipping through their hair and the sound of waves breaking in the distance.

She had planned a full day for his birthday: brunch at their favorite restaurant, a walk through the shopping district, and a homemade dinner with a fruit tart from his favorite bakery. Now that he had two years of experience running Onigiri Miya, he could afford to step away from the shop every so often. Unfortunately, his counterpart was on the other side of the world for a match, but they managed to squeeze in a short videocall despite the time difference.

“’Samu!” Atsumu screamed from the other line, “Happy Birthday!”

Wincing, Osamu turned the volume of his phone down as she giggled and wished his brother a Happy Birthday.

“What’d ya’ plan for Samu’s birthday,” Atsumu asked her, “good luck beatin’ ma’ gift from last year—”

“Tsumu!” Osamu berated.

“Unfortunately, my research job doesn’t pay as much as being a pro-volleyballer,” she rolled her eyes, “but I do have some fun things lined up,” she said, smiling softly at Osamu to which Atsumu gagged.

“Ya’ scrub, just ‘cause yer jealous—”

“Tsumu!” she interrupted, “did you get our gift? We were a little nervous about the international shipping but your hotel said they got it so—”

“Yes!” Atsumu exclaimed, screen blurry as he shuffled around his hotel room. He set his phone down and propped it up, showing them the neatly packaged box. “I can’t believe ya’ got me another signed copy of Sonia Barnes’s book—I couldn’t even get this one off preorder, it was so popular—”

“Did ya’ open the envelope yet?” Osamu asked impatiently.

“Of course I did! I always open the letter before the present, what do ya’ take me for, Samu?” Atsumu whined, but the duo noticed how Atusmu’s hands were off screen and they could hear quiet tearing noises in between pauses.

Rolling their eyes, they patiently waited for Atsumu to unsubtly open their envelope. They watched as Atsumu quickly scanned the contents of the letter and Osamu hit screen record as his brother’s mouth dropped open.

“T-tickets to a live reading and meet and greet?” Atsumu whispered to himself. He pulled the letter closer to his face and read it over and over again before gingerly setting the cardstock down and gently looking into the envelope to produce two ticket stubs. Carefully placing the tickets back into the envelope, Osamu failed to cover his snickers as Atsumu’s lower lip trembled.

“I know it’s no car,” she said, “but I do happen to know people who know people, so I hope you like your gift, ‘Tsumu” she said kindly.

Atsumu suddenly held the phone close to his face and Osamu could see his brother’s ears turn pink.

“Yer the best sister in law I coulda’ ever asked for, I don’t know why yer with that good fer nothin’ scrub—yer not married yet, so ya’ still have time to run away, but ‘Samu, ya’ better not mess it up,” he rambled, roughly wiping his nose with the sleeve of his jacket.

Osamu scoffed and she placed a placating hand on his shoulder.

“I can’t believe I get ta’ meet ma’ angel,” Atsumu mumbled to himself in disbelief, pacing in his hotel room, running his hands through his hair. “Angel, angel, angel—I gotta bring ma’ copy of her books with ma’ notes! I have so many questions for her, like how she came up with the storyline—didya know she went to school in New York City? Isn’t that the coolest? And she made a video for me for ma’ birthday last year,” he broke his monologue to gasp. “Do ya’ think she’ll remember me—”

Osamu put him on mute and groaned.

“Maybe we shoulda jus’ gotten him those fancy mugs,” he complained, leaning heavily into her side.

She rubbed the sides of his neck as she watched with amusement as Atsumu continued his ramblings, completely unaware that she and Osamu were having a side conversation.

“But look how happy he is, Samu,” she crooned, giggling as Osamu pinched his nose bridge. But she knew that Osamu was the one who spent hours scouring the web for those tickets and sent several emails to Sonia Barnes’s manager for a signed copy.

Watching his brother run his mouth with no regard to himself or his girlfriend, Osamu clicked the unmute button and nearly yelled, “We get it ya’ scrub, we get it!”

“Let me be happy why dontcha!” Atsumu retorted.

“Alright well I’m gonna spend ma’ birthday with ma’ real girlfriend,” Osamu taunted, finger hovering over the ‘end call’ button.

“Once Sonia meets me she’s gonna fall in love, just ya’ wait!”

She yelled one last, “Happy Birthday!” before Osamu disconnected the call and tackled her into the bed.

.

For the end of his birthday, Osamu requested a car ride. It was just past sunset; the sky’s vibrant pinks and oranges faded into a cool indigo and the stars were extra bright in the rural area they were driving through.

They rode in comfortable silence, listening to seagulls call their good nights and the wind beating against the car. The supple leather of the seat underneath her contrasted with the rough pads of Osamu’s fingertips on her thigh and she stared out at the horizon, perpetually in awe of the beauty of the coast line. Here, twinkling city lights were hardly discernible specks in the distance and the only tall structures were the trees dotting the cliffside.

They rose higher in altitude until they were surrounded by lush forest—rustling underbush and singing cicadas took over the sound crashing waves. He pulled into a secluded nook that overlooked a cliff and she couldn’t believe they were only a forty minute drive from the main city.

He killed the engine and unbuckled her seat belt while she was still leaning forward, face close to the windshield, taking in the scenery.

“I’m feelin’ a bit neglected over here,” Osamu said, soft grin taking over his face as he watched her, lips parted and eyes wide.

“Sorry Samu,” she said, still looking out the glass, “it’s just so incredible here.”

“I told ya’ I knew a spot,” he teased and she intertwined her hand with his.

He pulled her arm towards him as leaned over the middle console so his lips caught her neck when she lurched towards him. Her surprised chuckle turned into a content hum, fluttering her eyes closed as he kissed the pulse point of her throat, her exposed shoulder, then where her neck met her clavicle. From there, he dragged his lips slowly to her ear and grinned when he felt her clutch at his sweater.

Nipping her ear and tracing the shell with his tongue, rough palms kneaded her thighs and his fingers played with the hem of her skirt. He let out a heavy breath when she brushed against his tightening pants and he smirked when she involuntarily shivered.

“Do ya’ like this?” he asked, mouth kissing down the expanse of her chest, pulling the hem of her shirt low.

She arched her back into him and guided his hand under her shirt and he grinned when she impatiently unhooked her bra and took it and her shirt off in one swift motion.

“Does that answer your question?”

Eyes half lidded, lips slick with spit and plump from his repeated ministrations, she had one leg folded under her and the other anchored to the floor. Fully facing him, she cocked her head to the side and dragged her eyes down his body, lingering for a moment before directing her heavy gaze at him. She leaned back against the door as he leaned forward on the middle console and she ran a hand slowly from her knee, teasing a peek under her skirt, tracing a finger around her navel, then making her way upwards, rolling a nipple with two fingers while slowly rocking her hips.

Osamu’s lips parted and his eyes flickered from her hands to her face as she brought her other hand to rub at the cotton beneath her legs. Gaze hungry, he licked his lips and rolled his neck, languidly leaning back against his door, mirroring her.

“Gonna give me a birthday show?” He rasped, slowly unbuttoning his pants and palming his length through his boxers.

Skirt bunched at the waist giving him an unhindered view of the growing wet stain between her legs and Osamu felt himself tighten at the sight. He wanted to press his nose against the ruined fabric and lap at her through her pink panties, he wanted to curl a finger in her and listen to her keel for him, he wanted to—

“Take your shirt off,” she demanded.

“I thought it was ma’ birthday,” he chuckled but does as she asks, pulling the fabric from the back of his neck. He tossed the garment to the backseat and lazily looked back at her.

The tops of her cheeks are flushed and her breasts shake with each pant. She’s worked two slender fingers from the side of her underwear and Osamu watches with rapt attention as her pretty folds are presented to him.

“Touch yourself, Samu.”

“Again with the demands,” he complained but freed himself from the confines of his boxers and matches the pace she’s set on herself.

“Fuck,” she whined, moving faster. The hand teasing her nipples moved south to pinch at her clit and Osamu couldn’t wait anymore.

He nearly launched himself to her, abdomen uncomfortably resting on top of the center console and she seemed all too satisfied with the result. He buried his face between her legs and groaned with her as he sucked and lapped at her overstimulated bundle of nerves through soaked cotton.

“Itadakimasu,” he growled and she rolled her eyes at the line.

Long languid licks interspersed with quick flicks of his tongue, he took her right to the edge of her orgasm. Her thighs clenched around his head while her nails dragged through his gray hair and she rocked her hips against his mouth. Toe curling heat had her buck helplessly against his tongue, rough hands gripping her in place as she reached her peak, but at the last second, he pulled away.

Her gasp was lost with the loud bang his head made as it slammed against the car ceiling and he let out a string of curses as he tried to fit in the passenger’s seat with her. She half stands, leaning back on the glove department as he sat down and she couldn’t help but giggle when he cursed at how slowly the seat was reclining back.

But just as quick, he grabbed her by the hands and has her straddle him. The seat is narrow but neither of them mind as he slowly entered her. She gripped at the back of his head as he teased a nipple and sucked constellations across her chest while her other hand gripped the grab handle, giving her more leverage.

Osamu slowly rocked into her and he captured her moans in a kiss. He gave her a second to adjust to his length before slamming into her, head falling back into the headrest as he watched her bounce above him.

Beautiful, was all he could think. Hair wild around her shoulders, a glistening sheen of perspiration across her forehead and chest, and the incredible sound of her slick around him. He was in heaven.

He slid his thumb between her parted lips and she immediately began to suck. She bobbed her head back and forth while giving kitten licks at the tip and nipping the underside of his thumb.

“Good girl,” he cooed as he pressed his finger further back in her throat and watched as her eyes rolled back and she rocked her hips even faster against his.

Removing his thumb and making a show of putting it in his mouth, he pressed the wet digit against her clit and grinned as her moans became louder.

The sweet call of his name as she begged him to make her finish led him to snap his hips up, rubbing against the spongy bit of her inner walls and he held her close to his chest as they came undone together.

Breathing heavily, he rested his forehead on her shoulder and watched as a rivulet of sweat ran down the valley of her breasts and he shifted his hips forward, just now noticing the dull ache in his thighs. She shuddered against him and he kissed her shoulder, her cheek, then her other cheek.

“We really have to thank Tsumu for the car,” she said, chuckling.

“Yeah?” he questioned, running his blunt nails across her back, “should we tell him what we used it for?”

She scrunched her nose and Osamu’s heart clenched too. Wrapping her arms around his neck, soaking in the warmth of his warm body, her lips ghosted the side of his cheek and he shuddered at the tingles running down his back with the contact.

“Happy Birthday, ‘Samu,” she whispered sweetly.

Rocking into her again just to hear her breath tick, he nestled his head into her neck and smiled.

[drinkyourfuckingmilk]

Do you have an opinion on the whole Johnny Depp and AH situation? Would you be willing to share it? I think it's a shame that despite all evidence he has against her, he's still being torn down. People really don't think men can be victims.

yeah I do but Im always hesitant to express it because the narrative in the mainstream media is so negligent and still very much supportive of her despite actual evidence, and we absolutely live in a world where abuse against men isn’t taken seriously. that’s not just me repeating hot takes from online sources, I chose to do research topics in criminology at uni on abuse against men and the fact is, is that the way we raise and perceive masculinity means its very rarely taken seriously when a man comes forward and says he’s been sexually, physically or emotionally abused - particularly by women. 

there is also something to be said - and I have NEVER been a conspiracy theorist - but AH dated elon musk who has incredible wealth and influence over the media, and that the judge who decided the recent libel case between the two actually had personal and professional connections to AH’s own lawyer and LITERALLY said “it is not relevant whether AH assaulted JD” in his fucking ruling - this all means JD has not received unbiased judgement or justice in this case. 

I think that there is a fuckton of evidence against AH (actual recorded audio evidence), and corroborated and unbiased evidence against her that shows she is a consistent liar, abuser and toxic person including evidence that shows she is physically abusive towards her own sister and a previous romantic partner - she also blatantly stole the story of her former personal assistants rape experience to use for her own benefit. 

while there is a history with johnny depp of him losing his temper, its always been at inanimate objects (trashing a hotel room, slamming cabinet doors) or any actual physical assault alleged against him has been disproved by countless eyewitnesses. and every single character references for him shows he’s never been abusive towards another romantic partner. and I think that’s key. typically, in criminology and in statistics easily accessible by the public, a man doesn't just become suddenly physically violent against romantic partners at the age of like, what was it? in his 50s-60s? 

there’s ALWAYS a history of that abusive behaviour because its a chronic, behavioral pattern. JD has none of that. AH does. and I’ve had people message me and use a harshly worded text JD sent about AH to a friend where he uses vulgar language and violent ideas about her as proof he’s abusive. a shitty text written about an abusive ex isn't abuse. I’ve sent plenty of horrifically worded texts about fuckwit exes in the heat of anger. who hasn't? it doesn't make you abusive to the person themselves. who hasn't, in anger, wished horrible death and violence internally or in conversation with friends about exes who have profoundly hurt them? you can express these feelings as a means of venting anger in a safe place with friends - that’s entirely different from acting out those thoughts on the person themselves. 

basically; I completely believe JD is innocent of being an abusive person. because I didn't just take the media at face value, I have been actively reading all of the court transcripts. JD and his witnesses are consistent and supported by audio and video evidence. AH consistently changes her stories, her witnesses are much fewer, inconsistent, and are now no longer her friends. it speaks volumes. 

I still very much support the idea of believing victims at face value when they speak up. but I think, like anything in the world, its never black and white, and that grey area is that we need to be more thoughtful and considerate of men when they say they have been abused. because almost fucking nobody takes them seriously. 

because thus far, in light of INSANE amounts of evidence against AH, people will either deny it completely, or they’ll say “okay well then they were equally abusive to each other”. no, they weren’t. even in the audio tapes you have AH admitting to being violent and refusing to promise she wont become violent again, while NEVER saying to JD that he was ever violent towards her which you’d expect in a mediated conversation - and JD frequently says he insists on leaving situations where she becomes physically violent. he actively and repeatedly says in audio convos with her that she is violent towards him, and he HAS to leave the situation because its not appropriate. I’ve known physically abusive people - they dont leave a physically violent situation, they escalate it with their own violence. crim stats show the same. this is not mutual abuse to me. 

so yeah. I support JD in this, not because I’m a JD stan because I’m really by practice not a die hard JD fan, but because the evidence shows he is innocent, and having experienced forms of abuse myself, I know how important it is for victims to get justice or at least be heard. honestly fuck AH, she is a toxic horrible person from all accounts. 

if anyone would like to actually investigate this case beyond mainstream media, here are links to the court transcripts of both sides and of the audio evidence. 

court transcripts: https://www.nickwallis.com/depp-trial

audio evidence: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCg0C-N_MPYYOXyF4T3jMxNQ/videos

EDIT: another key thing from the audio tapes is that AH is CLEARLY not afraid of JD. A person who has been physically or emotionally abused is meek, reassuring and placating to their abuser. She is not. At all. He is the one who seems to submissive and mediating in the conversation. Accusatory but still willing to smooth it out which in my experience is characteristic of an abuse victim who is sick of the bullshit but just wants the bullshit to stop.

[alonfic]

in conclusion (i love you)

pairing: tsukishima kei x reader genre: college + fwb to lovers au | fluff, suggestive wc: 3,742 description: In which Tsukishima discovers that love can bloom in inconspicuous ways, even when you and him are supposed to be conducting a (not so) simple experiment. author’s note: cross-posted onto my ao3. still not sure if i’ll be posting here frequently, but i thought i’d see how i like it first.

Tsukishima doesn’t understand romantic relationships. 

He thinks they’re illogical, impossible, and most of all, irrelevant. They seem like too much hassle when it comes to the ordeal of courting. From the hours spent preparing complicated banners for asking significant others out to the extensive search for gifts that are supposed to appease pointless “monthiversaries,” Tsukishima finds it all to be a waste of time. 

Just acts for appearances. Sure, they’re cute, heartwarming even, but what does all of that show for anyway? What happened to qualitative experiences?  

He ascertains that he may never truly understand what it means to love another person by modern day standards; for those standards are all full of overhyped bullshit trying to make a trending post on Twitter and Instagram. If avoiding those things means saving himself from love, then so be it. (Irrationality and heartache be damned!)

Tsukishima decides in his first year of university that he won’t do any of those things. 

How? His friends ask, guffaws in tow.

He simply tells them that he won’t fall in love. 

/

Not many people share in this same ideal, Tsukishima finds. 

He can’t say he’s very surprised or disappointed to have his philosophy rejected, especially by those same friends who have questioned his goal, Yamaguchi and Hinata. They’re fools who deem love as something akin to fate’s gift. 

Love is a choice, Tsukishima tells them, and this is his decision. 

They think he’s being a little silly for not wanting to fall in love. They say he’ll get bit in the ass when he least expects it and he’ll go back on his word, but he hardly thinks that’s true. 

If he doesn’t want to fall in love, then he won’t, and that’s perfectly okay. At the very least, you agree with him. 

You have always understood him on wavelengths that others simply could not. You have always stood by his side when it came to debates on this matter, and even more so when he really thinks about it. 

Tsukishima has been able to lean on you even in high school. Him being so introverted has made things difficult, and what he needed then was patience, something many people lacked, but unlike those people, you took the time to understand him and his struggles. 

It’s made him grateful to you. Even now. Scratch that, especially now. 

These days he isn’t just shooting you texts about how he could’ve let someone down easier. Sometimes it’s checking out hot pot places at 8PM on a Tuesday; other times, it’s going to the library until 5 AM because statistics midterms suck at an unbearable level, but you take the 8AM class with him anyway, just because it’s him, and General Education requirements may suck but they’re mandatory. 

It’s also sharing jokes that no one else gets, and teaming up against the rest of the group when they heckle you two about being the only ones who sees love as the bane of both your existences. 

Tsukishima has heard plenty of love advice and received Cosmopolitan articles on how to woo a friend from those same punks who think that love is given by chance. He has seen the knowing stares exchanged at kickbacks. Hell, he’s heard all the whispers, too. But it means nothing. 

This is friendship. No matter what anyone else tries to insinuate, you both know it means nothing for either of you. 

What you are together is simply platonic. 

Friends, that’s all. 

/

Somewhere along the way benefits become a factor for you two. 

These are the sort of benefits that forgo late night convenience store runs for ramen and other delicious, overly processed foods that Yamagchi and Sugawara blanch at the two of you over. Instead it’s the kind that means heated kisses in one another’s bedroom and wandering hands in places very few people have become privy to in both your two-decades long reign on this planet. 

And, it all starts over a simple experiment. 

At least that’s what you and Tsukishima like to call it. 

/

“Isn’t it stupid that Ennoshita would say that?” Tsukishima asks, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “We can be friends. How can he say it’s impossible for us to be just friends? I mean there’s nothing wrong with being attracted to one another, right? You’re good looking. I’m good looking. We’re acknowledging each other’s attractiveness.” 

He pats the open space beside him on his bed, feeling it dip a little soon afterwards. You’re visiting him after he blew off the post-kickback get together. He shouldn’t be surprised that you came by to check on him.

You smile at him as one of your fingers pokes his cheek. “You sound awfully bothered over something that shouldn’t matter.” 

He frowns at your nonchalant tone, even if you are messing with him. 

Tsukishima has never been that particularly fond of other people telling him that his friendship with you is only the stepping stone to something more, that it would only be a matter of time before you two were calling one another cutesy pet names and holding hands for other reasons than as a precaution from getting lost in crowds, and that if he didn’t step up to the plate now, then he would lose you to someone else. 

But how could he? If anything, you’ve been more against love than him. Seeing you with someone else is as impossible as seeing Hinata at Aone’s height. Possibly with some help, but still highly unlikely. 

“I mean, aren’t you? So what if we’re attracted to each other? That doesn’t mean we’re going to start dating because of that.” 

You hum in affirmation. 

You know he has a point. It’s silly to expect two friends to date when both your admissions came as a result from a simple game of “truth or dare.” While it comes from a place of truth, it isn’t like either of you admitted to harboring deep-seated feelings for one another or anything. It’s simply an admission of truth. 

He thinks you’re attractive, beautiful even, and it helps that you share the same opinion as him when it comes to love. And, you think he’s attractive, handsome even, and it’s because you both share the same opinion on love that he doesn’t have to worry about frivolous things like falling in love with you. Or you with him. Your dynamics just work like that. 

“You know, there are other alternatives to relationships anyway, right?” you ask him, watching as he turns to face you on the bed. 

“Like what? Hooking up?” He feels a little dumbfounded. The idea of hooking up with you never really occurred to him. Clearly not because he wasn’t attracted to you, but didn’t those end up… badly? 

You nod. 

Seeing the instant confusion wash over his face, you explain, “Yeah, hook-ups aren’t so bad. It’s like a one and done. It doesn’t even have to lead to anything more. It’s like a preliminary thing. Trial or whatever. We give it a go and if it doesn’t work out, then we can just go back to being friends.” 

“And if it does? Work out, I mean,” he gulps. He doesn’t want to think of an option that means losing you or this friendship. But he’s intrigued, he wouldn’t have asked if he wasn’t, and you know it. 

“Then we have one of two options.” 

He blinks. “Which are?” 

“Well, if it does, then we can continue and enjoy the fun. Or, we really fuck ourselves over and do exactly what our friends have been betting on for years.” You lean in closer, eyes alight with mischief and interest. 

He feels a tug within him to concede, as if his own body knows its answer, while his mind’s doubts seem to lower in volume the longer he’s under your gaze. 

“What do you say? Up for an experiment?”

He still has to ask: “And, what if we can’t go back from this?”  

“I don’t know,” you whisper, eyes softening as you note his hesitancy. “Even that’s something I can’t answer. This is just a risk we both have to be willing to take. Truthfully, I’m in. But, are you? I-it’s okay if you aren’t, though, Kei. This was just a suggestion, of course—”

He doesn’t take a second longer to tell you his decision.

“I’m in.” 

After all, it couldn’t hurt… right?

 /

Tsukishima discovers many things in this time. 

Things that he never really gave a second thought on. Somewhere between how you look bathed in moonlight with the curtains half-open to the just-right way you feel beside him, he realizes how soft your skin is, how low and husky your voice can get when you’re feeling a particular way, and how powerful you are. 

There’s something enticing about you. Not just in the way you look bare, but the way you can make him feel even without the lack of clothing. He realizes that he enjoys the lingering taste of your lips against his, the heat that your fingertips leave behind, and the small voice you use when you call his name. 

It’s normal, he tries to convince himself. This is how it should be. 

It would be ridiculous to hate the way you feel or sound when it comes to him. And while that is true, that becomes a whole different matter when it bleeds into everyday life outside of the bedroom.

He swears there are moments where he can hear you say his name and you aren’t even in the room. His eyes catch sight of something familiar, at least enough to remind him of you, and suddenly you’re popping up front and center in his mind. He can’t help but smile, of course. 

Even just the taste of last night’s kiss rears its head when he’s doing homework, suddenly taking him right back to that night you two shared talking about the latest fantastical escapade in his reading arsenal. 

He believes the simplicity of these exchanges is the best part of this entire experiment. 

Being able to switch between friendship and, well, sex. And he isn’t sure if the consistent exposure to your presence has brought him to think of you constantly or if it’s some other seed blooming in the vestiges of his chest. He can’t say. Partially because he’s scared to. Because admitting to the second possibility means changing something good, something normal. And change, in this regard, often means a relationship. One that he isn’t sure if such feelings will truck through or crash and burn the moment he mentions it. 

Instead when you call out his name, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows and a fingertip tapping his cheek, he flashes one of his heartwarming smiles your way and brushes aside the concern. 

“It’s nothing,” he tells you. “I’m fine. Everything is perfect.” 

And while you aren’t convinced, you simply nod and take note to ask another day. 

/

The thing that bothers Tsukishima most is being fickle. 

He doesn’t like being fickle. He knows it is transcribed in the stars that he is a fickle being. And it doesn’t help that everyone is constantly telling him that he is indecisive. He knows already. He knows it well. He hates it, but only when it comes to you. 

He is never indecisive with you. Well, only because you’re the assurance he needs when it comes to decision-making. Maybe it’s your influence. You’re bullheaded and more self-assured than Patrick Verona from “Ten Things I Hate About You.” (Mind you, you’re the one who forced him to watch it. And, fortunately, he wound up loving it.) 

He constantly thinks about how opposed those two main leads are about love, simply because it is exactly against what everyone else expects from high school teenagers. They don’t conform to the status quo. They make their own status quo. Perhaps that is where Tsukishima garnered such a strong stance against love from. Partially from the movie and mostly from you. 

While everyone is banking on your relationship to become more than just friends, he truly can’t help but consider the possibility of a ‘more’ with you anymore. He realizes this when he sees you underneath the incandescent fairy lights hanging around your room. 

Your tranquil visage, how effortless you look sporting one of his T-shirts with a giant crescent moon on the back, and the way your limbs so effortlessly remain entangled. This is comfortable. This is… right. 

He doesn’t stop himself from brushing aside the stray locks covering your face. Normally, he might like to turn over and occupy another part of the bed, but he prefers to remain where he is with you in his arms, just so he can listen for your soft and steady breathing like his own personal lullaby. If he was brave enough, he probably would’ve kissed your cheek. 

Truthfully, if he were in a relationship with you, he truly wouldn’t mind. Not even a little bit. 

Realization strikes him then. A simple, yet vital question crosses his mind, one that he hadn’t thought needed to be asked before—could you feel the same way about him? 

Tsukishima doesn’t have any other answer besides I don’t know. 

/

When Tsukishima said he could never be as irrational as any other lovestruck fool, he never imagined what it would be like to see you in the arms of another man. 

Given, this is a man he knows well. Trusts, even. He can’t help but feel a large pang in his chest when Kuroo spins you around on the dancefloor. It’s a drunken habit that everyone either loves or hates depending on their sobriety levels, but even while sober, you seem to bask in this treatment with glee. 

It makes Tsukishima grumble under his breath, “What’s so good about him anyway?” 

He doesn’t ask anyone in particular and expects no one to answer him back, but a nudge and a pointed look from Sugawara tells him that his ruminations have not gone unnoticed. 

Sugawara nods his head in your direction. “You finally realize you’re in love with her?” 

“W-what? I am not in love… with her,” he says. It’s all weak and unconvincing.

The smirk on the silver-haired man’s face says it all, much to Tsukishima’s annoyance. 

“Shut up.” 

“I didn’t say anything.” 

“You’re thinking about it.” He doesn’t want to say it aloud. He hardly feels right feeling what he does when you probably don’t even feel the same way anyway.

“What am I thinking that has you so peeved, Tsukishima?” Sugawara raises his eyebrow. “The truth?” 

The tone elicits a wince from Tsukishima, making him frown. Not that he’s unhappy, he’s just frustrated that the proverbial cat is now out of the bag. 

Tsukishima simply shakes his head, wanting nothing more than to escape from the scene. Maybe go home and burrow away into his bed, away from all of this. Afterparty milk tea trip with the rest of the group be damned. Did he really have to go when he was this emotionally compromised? Stewing right here just spells trouble, and not just for him, but for your friendship with him as well. 

“You should just be honest, dude. None of this ‘experiment’ bullshit. You both lost. Own up to the results.” 

Tsukishima raises an eyebrow at Sugawara. The rest of the party seems to cease with more drinks getting passed around, which he receives one quite graciously. “What are you talking about ‘both?’ It’s just me. I fell first.” 

Sugawara snorts. 

Tsukishima shoots him an accusatory glare, but when he receives nothing in response, he chugs down the red Solo cup without thinking of what’s inside. 

The mixture kind of tastes like shit, and it makes him feel even worse, because now his mind won’t stop fixating on you and Kuroo. A match that could be made in heaven. 

The dark-haired man has always been handsome, adorable at times, funny without trying particularly hard, caring, and worst of all, certain. God, was Kuroo a certain bastard. He always seemed to know what he wanted. He did as he pleased and got whatever he set his heart on too. 

It’s cruel, really. The way fate has metaphorically bit him in the ass like Yamaguchi and Hinata predicted. 

Tsukishima can’t stand the thought that maybe you would choose Kuroo’s sauve side tonight. He particularly dislikes that he really did lose his chance thinking that this experiment would last forever. A few months should’ve sufficed. Should’ve. But only an idiot would let something as good as you be a temporary fling. 

“Maybe I’m the idiot,” he mutters, shutting his eyes.

Sugawara doesn’t respond immediately, in fact, he doesn’t respond at all. Instead a voice he swears is yours does. 

“Who’s an idiot?” Fingertips digging into his sides are unlike Yamaguchi or even Sugawara. In fact, these ones are all too familiar, even with two layers of clothing blocking access to his bare flesh. “Kei?” 

When he looks at the perpetrator, he nearly tumbles over to see you in Sugawara’s place. 

You immediately steady him by interlocking one of his arms with yours, and it’s only you. No Kuroo trailing behind you. No Sugawara in sight either. It’s just you and him walking toward an empty section of the house. Milk tea trip really be damned, you seemed to tell him. 

“Are you alright?” He notices you make eye contact with Yamaguchi before you two round the corner into the surprisingly unoccupied hallway. 

Tsukishima’s begrudgingly grateful that Kageyama’s place is a lot spacier than he remembers. It’s enough that he’s been granted some relief—no trip or an audience to bear witness to his major crash and burn.

He sighs. “N—yeah. Er, no.” 

“Yes or no? Which it is.” You flash him a half-smile as he sways inside the empty guest bedroom. 

He looks around after noting just how quiet it is without the thumping bass of music or the chatter of others drowning out just about everything else. It feels bare here somehow. 

He shakes his head. 

“Why?” Your eyebrows screw together. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“I fucked up,” he whispers. Looking from the beige walls covered bare of any sentiments, he meets your softened gaze. “I fucked up the experiment.” 

“How did you do that?” 

“T-the results are inconclusive. I can’t continue, because,” he rubs the back of his head, “well, I caught feelings.”

The surprise is evident on your visage, even from the weak lighting created by the moon and street lamp outside. But he can’t deny seeing the sight of a smile beginning to grace your features either. Amusement, he can discern with absolute certainty. Relief, dare he say? All of the things he never imagined in any of his scenarios about this moment. 

“Leave it to you to be able to use big words when you’re buzzed.” 

“It’s true. We can’t continue this. I mean I’d love to have something with you, but this isn’t a one and done for me. Not anymore. Maybe not ever.”

“Really? You mean that?” Even though you won’t say it directly, he knows there’s a huge burden of thoughts on your mind from the way your bottom lip gets captured by your teeth. 

“Yeah, I mean it. I—I can’t pretend that I don’t love you anymore. I just can’t. I don’t think I ever expected to feel this way for anyone, but spending so much time with you in and out of bed has shown me that whatever shit I said before has gone completely out of the window. I mean I’m not asking you to be with me if that’s not what you want, but if at all, you feel something too, then…” He can’t help but fiddle with his fingers. Why is his heart beating so loudly? Can’t you hear it? 

“You love me?” 

He swears then that you probably can. 

Slowly, he nods. “I don’t know how I came to love you exactly, but it just struck me when you were sleeping. It felt right that you were beside me. Easy and comfortable, even. I debated so hard about what these feelings were when it came to you. I didn’t think I could like someone this much. But I just do. I just love you for you, for being there... for existing.” 

The last part has his cheeks burning, and Tsukishima can’t help but look away to save himself the humiliation of looking like a fresh tomato. You laugh when he does this, and he can’t even help himself from trying to catch a glimpse.  

He loves your soft exhale, it’s one that he relishes in. Somehow you don’t look as perturbed or aghast as he expects. If anything, you look quite content. It makes him wonder if Sugawara was right, if everyone else was right all along. 

He asks, “Well, what do you say?” 

This time you laugh again. A much louder, but he can’t help but break out into a broad grin, because the atmosphere feels lighter than any tension breaking to grip the room. He knows without being told.

“Only you, Kei. Of course, I love you too.” 

His heart swells, and a greedy part of him wants to hear you say it again. “Really?”

You nod and look at him as if there couldn’t possibly be any other answer out there. “There’s no one else in this world that could understand me the way you do. No one could touch me like you, make me laugh like you, and certainly not watch ‘Ten Things I Hate About You’ five million times with me like you.” 

“Five million and one times,” he corrects. 

His fingers shyly brush away the hair threatening to cover your face, and he refuses to be denied that luxury. Not when he can’t seem to get enough of you. He can’t even bear to move his hand away after he’s done it. “And I’d watch it over and over again with you, by the way.” 

“Good.” You smile at him, cupping your hand over his. “I’m glad we finally came to a conclusion on this.” 

“Even if it means getting ‘I-told-you-so’s’ and teased to all hell?” He smiles when you nod. “Good, ‘cuz I don’t think I’d have it any other way.” 

“Yeah, me either,” you say, leaning in to peck his lips. Of course, he returns the gesture (and then some). 

(The room is empty, after all.)