#it's almost 5am my thoughts quit and I need to go to bed

[pencilofawesomeness]

Hello!

*Taps fingers together* I come to bug you regarding the Secret Santa exchange!

I saw your character prompts and decided to try and mix all three. I wanted to ask if there was any Laxus + Cobra brotp, or Cobra + Thunder Legion friendship headcanons you'd want to see added?

If not headcanons, then anything in particularly you would like to see regarding the five of them?

Hahahah hello there, mystery person~

Oooo you bring to the table a tantalizingly interesting prospect. I do have waaaaaay too many thoughts, and many of them are admittedly steeped in my own AU because I accidentally sold my soul to it (as authors do) so by all means, do not feel encumbered by my thoughts/ideas. Treat them as a buffet to pick and choose and take inspo from, because unfortunately you just gave me license to ramble :D

(and this is going to be rambley; too tired to make this cohesive beyond bullet points)

(I love these idiots very much)

—Laxus and Erik brotp is so real to me, fam. It's the "hey we got a lacrima bestowed upon us, whoo" bonding, for one, but beyond that, the sort of....quiet mutual understanding of what it is like to have a "father" figure who is just treating them like a weapon, making them *stronger*, with a faux sort of affection. Beyond the trauma, though, they are both deadpan assholes and I love that for them. If Erik (and this is the htryds coloring) spends a good deal of time having the braincell, then with Laxus he can channel the little-shit-little-brother energy and bully him a bit, and Laxus can be grouchy back and know that Erik can parse through the emotions and figure out what's genuine or not without him figuring out how to put in the effort.

—Also, depending on the setting, they both have the tendency to pull the ~too good for you~ bad boy vibes as a defense mechanism, which makes it utterly unusable on each other, which is fun. Mostly, though, Laxus and Erik have the ability to enjoy a mutual quietness, so to speak; not trying to prove anything, but just leaning back and being normal young adults (with a little salt on the side) and doing whatever. That said, Erik is a bit too much of a dark mirror of how things could have been worse for Laxus, if Ivan was more involved, and this leads to Laxus winning the "big brother instinct" award of the two, which is an experience Erik is not used to but....does not necessarily hate.

—This is a fun headcanon that I haven't had the chance to incorporate into my series yet, but they have fun little music debates. Laxus got Erik into the magic of using music to calm the overstimulation, but they have wildly different tastes. Laxus loves rock and roll and metal, and Erik turned to liking types of bluegrass and straight up classical music. They meet in the middle at alt-rock. They are both always trying to win each other over on certain songs or genres. It works surprisingly often but it's part of the fun to swear undying rivalry to the other's favorite.

—For more Cobra-specific vibes (aka the canon edgemaster), I can see them being a bit more competitive with each other. Which quickly doesn't work when they have completely different specialties, but an effort is made.

—Also something I haven't had the chance to capitalize on outside of the scenarios in my head, but Bickslow and Erik definitely have a fun "we perceive you but we don't care" vibe that I love. Your secrets are obvious but not their business. Sometimes they people watch together for the fun of it, because all of the thoughts they *do* have regarding the things they know have got to go somewhere.

—Evergreen, being the queen of gossip, really really wants in on this. They tease her for it though, and purposely dangle that tea on a string. (Though sometimes Ever *does* get in on it, mostly when it comes to roasting anyone who was particularly rude or annoying, or the silly speculation at the expense of friends, like figuring out what job Nab will eventually go on or what animal Bisca will adopt next.)

—On this same note, Bickslow and Evergreen both have insufferable little sibling energy amongst the Thunder Legion squad, nevermind that Bickslow is the second oldest. Mostly it's just really fun to tease the more serious ones.

—Though Ever and Bickslow are also the most keenly aware of what it is like to be feared. Truly feared. Having eye magic that isn't quite controllable (as a kid, especially) will grant that experience. It is their unspoken agreement never ever to speak of this, of course.

—On an individual note, it is worth it now to bring up that I am an avid fan (read: it's canon to me and sometimes I forget it's not real canon) of the theory that Bickslow was one of the kids experimented on by the Bureau of Magical Development. He's got that unhinged flavor that comes from straight-up trauma, and it does add more context to his otherwise creepy magic. I also hc that the babies are all deceased test subjects, and that is why they have stuck with him all this time. (I am very passionate about the babies as characters, unfortunately, and my little mini series I'm doing for them on tumblr is proof. I am soooo normal.)

—Another theory I love, and that I have somewhat brandished into my own spin, is that Freed is half demon. He sees this as an awful thing, raised by his human parent (mother, in my case), without any real context for demon culture other than the fear of it, so that's why he's super edgy and has locked all of his demon traits away into a single form he swear never to uses unless things are ~Dire~ or whatnot. It's really not that bad though lol.

—The fact that Erik will Know Freed's secrets bother him immensely. Freed is, unfortunately, *just* a smidge too dense to realize that Bickslow has also known all along, just because Bickslow is strangely very good at keeping things to himself, whereas Erik's magic is more obvious. In my au, Laxus knows too, and is literally just waiting for Freed to admit it, because it's not that big of a deal, really.

—Laxus is also the only one who (at first) knows about Bickslow's past, among the team. Mostly because of some variant of Laxus having seen/met him when it was all raw. Depending on the au flavor, this either is what gives the chaotic dude and the stoic dude a sort of mutual respect (closer to canon) or makes them the og best friends (htryds style). In the latter case, they are each other's impulse control and/or voice of reason, which is probably unfortunate because they're not great at it. This is why Bickslow has doodled drawings on half of Laxus's furniture and why Laxus gets away with avoiding his problems a little longer than he should.

—Freed is simultaneously the most responsible and the most edgy and ergo reckless of the crew. Everyone agrees he's got to value his safety just a little bit more. He's also the only one who consistently remembers the schedule/to-do-list.

—Erik shares the "living itinerary, doesn't have executive disfunction problems" braincell with Freed, and in the right conditions, they work very well together. Bonding over the experience of herding cats, that is their teammates.

—Not a headcanon but I want to whack all of them with sticks. The Sad Boi Stick, the Whump Stick... All flavors. Getting the ones who never fess up to their trauma a good thwack makes the trauma spill out, and I enjoy the possibilities that entails. Put them in Situations. >:D

—I do also appreciate them being silly-goofy, too, of course. No need to be angry all of the time, in some of their cases. (They all need affection so bad. The hurt/comfort allure of it all. Just sit down and admit they need it, etc etc.) Something that is conveniently done after a good physical and emotional thwacking— *gets dragged away forcefully*

[multiwreckedmess]

February Filth Fest - Day 24

Pairing: Minho(Lee Know) x Reader Prompt: Pegging WC: ~800 Summary: PWOP ya’ll. Idk i wrote this at 5am and it’s not that deep. Previously established boyfriend Minho must defeat the 3 evil trainer sizes and strap megaboss in order to earn the right to your asshole. TW/CW: PWOP, sudden violent mommy kink (reader called mommy and calls self mommy, Minho is called baby), brat!minho, dom!reader, pegging. 

“How can I call you my hot top domme-y mommy if you don’t even know how to use that stupid big dick of yours?” Minho laughs, casually pushing you back into the pillows. “Cmon mommy, I stretched myself out all nice for you. And maybe if you fuck me really good, I’ll be a good boy tonight!” “You’re already being a brat.” Minho crawls over you, straddling your waist. No matter the position you both slipped naturally into your comfortable roles.

Earlier in the year you’d joked with him, if he wanted to try anal with you so badly he’d have to let you fuck him first. With most men this put an end to the discussion quickly, their fragile egos shuttering at the thought of being on the penetrated party. Minho was not like most men. Instead he cocked his head and smiled sweetly. Almost sauntering away to purchase two sets of training plugs leaving you flabbergasted in his wake. Hovering just over your strap he continues to coo and tease as he eases himself back onto it. “Am I going to need to teach you how to fuck me properly?” He gasps, fully seated on you. “No, no. I can do it. I can-” you shakily reply, feet fighting under you to bridge your hips up to thrust deeper into him. Flailing under him you lightly bounce him up and down, his erect cock slapping your stomach lewdly. Momentarily Minho’s cockiness is drained, the angle of his hips and yours slotting together drives your cock straight into his prostate. White of his eyes on full display and mouth catching flies he whimpers. Suddenly and unexpectedly out of control of his reactions the power needle twitches in your favor. The momentary slip stokes a fire in your belly. His angelic face rapt with uncontrolled ecstasy enough to spur your hips up again. “That’s it baby. Just help mommy a little okay? Just be quiet while mommy fucks you with her big dumb cock.” Holding his hips in place you drive upwards abusing the sensitive spot inside of him. “Ye-yes mommy,” he mewls, nearly a different man than you once knew. Mouth open and eyes to the ceiling, he leans back placing his palms on the bed. Finally you can properly appreciate his thighs, flexed and strong. They were always a favorite of yours. Of the times you spent riding and rubbing and squeezing them you never had the opportunity to watch them quite like this. His hamstrings tensing as they strain against gravity for a moment before your thrust meets his drop downwards. Your hands travel the marvel of his toned body. Each breath flattening and widening his ribs, abs stretching and contracting, lithe from hours of dancing instead of hours in the gym. Well groomed in case of costume slips. Beautiful, scars and all. One of Minho’s hands drifts to his angry red cock, shaft streaked with trails of precum. You slap him away, his facial expression shifting to anguish. “That’s mommy’s toy to play with, not yours.” He stares back at you, eyes wide with shock at your dominant display. For a second you think maybe he’ll talk back, you don’t know exactly how to handle that challenge to your fleeting authority.  Wrapping your hand around his member you snap your hips up into him suddenly, turning his wide mouthed indignation to slack jawed bliss with a single shrill whine. “Fuck!” He yells, back arching. Minho slides between your cock and your fist stimulated on both sides. You curl up onto yourself, just barely able to tease the very tip of his dick with your pursed lips, flicking your tongue over the slit. He whimpers and shakes at the sudden wet heat of your mouth on his most sensitive area. Small puppy whimpers emanate from his throat, caught between his mouth and his chest. “You need to cum baby?” He nods frantically, face and neck red as he gasps. “You can cum, but only on mommy's tits,” you pull back down, resting in the pillows. “Please mouth! Please mommy!” “No. Cum now or not at all.” Minho cums with a sob, body shivering as he curls forward on himself, abs contracting and shaking. Streaks of warm cum pool between your ribs on your stomach. Both of you panting, you can feel sweat trickling from the back of your knees down your thighs and soaking into the sheets. 

Slowly he slips off of you, kissing your cheek before heading to the bathroom with a smirk. Whatever you did to him he’ll do to you. Or at least, you hope.

sorry it’s real short i had an idea for a powerbottom minho but then thought it might be cute if he just went baby suddenly when getting drilled.

trying to remind myself not everything needs to be a 3k actual one shot and can just be a drabble.

i know next to nothing about pegging so oop err...sorry for inaccuracies.

stray kids, skz, stray kids fanfic, skz smut, stray kids smut, skz fanfic, lee know, lee know smut, lee know scenarios, lee know x reader, lee know fanfic, lee know x fem!reader, lee know drabbles, skz lee know smut, skz lee know

[what-if-queen-camilla]

Chapter 27

So... I'm pretty unsure about this piece... I didn't want it to be too sad but then again the subject is quite serious... I have to say I was having a hard time trying to imagine the feelings and emotions of an eight-year-old in that very situation... I hope you like it nonetheless, and please do let me know what you think in the comments...

21st November 1995, part 1

Middlewick House

The night had been hell. It hadn't been before 5am that Camilla had finally fallen into an unsteady sleep, tortured by all different sorts of nightmares until Andrew woke her again at about 7am. Andrew… She couldn't express her immense gratitude that, after everything that had happened and gone wrong between them, it hadn’t even taken him half an hour to get into his car and straight to them, his ex-wife and her illegitimate child, to speak the truth in all its cruelty, apparently, at least as he told her, more or less by his new partner Rosemary’s command. “She thought you might need someone to look after you…”, he’d grumbled while manoeuvring that poor little picture of misery that she had turned into, onto her bed, which was obviously amongst the only few pieces of furniture that hadn’t been dismantled yet. He had then gotten two glasses and a whole bottle of Whiskey for both of them, sat down next to her, put his arm around her and let her cry, until there hadn’t been a single tear left anymore. “Alright Milla.”, he had finally started, clearing his throat. “I’ll stay here with you until everything is fixed. But Rose will come over tomorrow as well. I want her by my side.” “Of course.”, Camilla sobbed, gulping a few sips of the Whiskey. She liked Rose and she didn’t mind her coming over at all, but somehow it bothered her to hear that he actually wanted a woman “by his side”; in all of the 20 years of their meanwhile divorced marriage, he’d never wanted her “by his side” the way he demanded Rose now. “I’ll meet our lawyer tomorrow.”, he then went on. “We need a plan as soon as possible. Have you heard anything from Charles yet?” Camilla shook her head. “I unplugged the telephone immediately, after…”, she explained and looked so desperately that it almost broke his heart. “Sure. Don’t worry, I’ll contact him.”, he promised. “It’s important that we’re all working together now. Thea will stay home tomorrow and you’ll tell her the truth. She needs to hear it from you. You can go on a walk or ride together and take all the time you need. But when you return I will be here and reassure her that I’m still and will always be her daddy. That’ll be important for her to know.” Camilla had almost cuddled up to him as if they were still married; she couldn’t believe how wonderful and supportive he was of both her and her daughter, but maybe it was due to the Whiskey. “Why are you doing all of this, Andrew?”, she asked, her eyes filled with tears again. Andrew looked at her in amusement, casually shrugging his shoulders. “Because you will always be a part of my life. A part of my heart will always belong to you and everything we had. We might not have worked out as husband and wife, but we’ve always been good parents to all our three children. Milla - I love Thea like my own flesh and blood. I brought her to life-” “You did…” “-and I will not allow anyone to hurt her or put her at risk in one way or another, no matter if it’s the press or the bloody Princess of Wales.” Camilla had started crying again while she’d been listening to him, but these were actually tears of joy, pride and relief that, despite everything, Andrew was still being such an amazing daddy for her little darling daughter. God only knew how she was supposed to explain to her that he wasn’t her biological father tomorrow… it’d surely break her heart. "I know you'll find the right words.", Andrew said. "You always have. You're an exceptional mother, Camilla."

"What do you mean, I'm not going to school today?", Thea asked and looked at her mother in irritation. She was maximum confused. Why on earth shouldn't she go to school today? It was an ordinary Tuesday. Of course she was going to school, unless something really serious had happened… "Well, darling, the two of us need to… talk about a few things.", Camilla murmured, nervously stirring in her breakfast tea. Thea frowned her forehead. "Mummy, I've got quite an important maths lesson today… The exam date is next week! I can hardly miss it!" "I know, darling, and I wouldn't do that if it wasn't for a really important cause… Please, just trust me, darling." Her mother's almost begging voice and the desperate expression on her face made Thea's little heart ache. She loved Mummy, she knew that she only ever wanted what was best for her and that this had to be a really serious thing if it bothered her that much. "Okay, Mummy… What are we going to do?", she asked. "I mean, where are we going?" "Where would you like to go?", Camilla countered, hoping for her daughter to name a place of two where she'd feel comfortable, happy and relaxed enough to record that sort of news… "What about a picnic in my tree house?", she suggested, referring to the really impressive and beautiful tree house which had been lovingly built up by Andrew and Tom a couple of years ago. "We won't have it for much longer anyway." Of course they couldn't move the tree to their new home so Thea was totally right when suggesting that they'd take every chance to spend a bit of time in it as long as they could… "Alright then. Let's wrap up warmly and meet up there in half an hour!", Camilla agreed and Thea nodded approvingly.

"Okay, Mummy, cutting to the chase: what's the matter?", Thea asked easily, looking at her mother in happy and curious expectations. They'd sat down on a blanket on the floor in her tree house, cuddled up tightly and covered in another, particularly soft blanket, each of them holding a good, hot cup of tea in their hands. Camilla nervously cleared her throat. "Well, darling… remember when Tigger had her puppies last summer?", she began a little uncertain, referring to Charles' beloved Jack Russell Terrier who had, indeed, had puppies last year, and Thea nodded enthusiastically. It had been a joy when Tigger had her puppies last year, they'd gone over to Highgrove every day and watched the little ones grow until they were old enough to be gifted to some of Sir's friends, they had kept one, too, Freddy was his name, and he was an absolute sweetheart. "And… um, darling, have you ever wondered how… the babies were… let's say put into Tigger's tummy?", she asked further and had to really pull herself together. Having to have this talk right here, right now, just felt so unbelievably ridiculous. Thea casually grabbed a macaron from the hamper Camilla had prepared, eating it with relish. "She must have been mated by a male dog?!", she replied, looking at her mother in confusion. "Y-yes, exactly…", Camilla responded, equally shocked and surprised that her daughter was already that familiar with this sort of vocabulary. "And, um, do you know what that… means?", she asked further and Thea rolled her eyes. "A tiny cell from a male body joins with a tiny cell from a female’s body.", she explained casually, almost precociously and Camilla almost choked herself with a macaron. "That's… right, darling, that's just… how things work.", she confirmed and helped herself to a glass of champagne. It was only just 10am but specific situations called for special measures. "And, do you know that it works just like that for humans, too, darling?", she tried to build the bridge to the actual point of their conversation, and Thea frowned her forehead. "But humans have sex to make babies.", she said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, casually grabbing another macaron, while Camilla almost spilled her champagne in shock. "W-what do you know about… sex?", she asked anxiously. She was her innocent little baby, she wasn't allowed to know about these things yet…

"Laura says it's a very private, grown-up cuddle.", Thea bubbled. "Oh does she?", Camilla wanted to know and couldn't help feeling very proud of her oldest daughter for having described it so beautifully. A very private grown-up cuddle… brilliant! She herself would never have come up with that! She absolutely had to tell and thank Laura for having explained it all to her little sister so clearly and carefully, or maybe rather not - it'd probably make her feel embarrassed… anyway. "She says that's what grown-ups do when they're very much in love. And that sometimes they get a baby… afterwards.", Thea added, and Camilla pulled her into her arms. "Yes, darling. That's true. And, um, you know… Mummy and Sir are very much in love, as well…" "So you have made that sex thing, too?" Once more, Camilla almost choked herself. "Yes, we, um… might have.", she replied, unusually shy, blushing in shame. "And now you're getting a baby?", Thea asked and, for a moment, Camilla didn't know whether she'd rather scream or laugh. Goodness. What a ridiculous thought! But of course reasonable from her daughter's point of view. "No, darling, no, no, no.", she chuckled, pressing her daughter against her chest. "At least not… now. But, you know, darling, a couple of years ago… I did have a baby after I'd had a… very private grown-up cuddle with Sir… In fact, it was almost exactly nine years ago. And nine months later… a little girl came into this world, and made it so much brighter and filled it with nothing but joy and love… and the little girl was named Theodora." Camilla hadn't been able to hold back her tears anymore as she had finally told her daughter the truth, pressing her against herself, desperately hoping she wasn't going to hate her for the rest of her life. Thea twisted around in her mother's arms, looking at her in a mixture of disbelief and excitement. "So - you're saying that Sir is actually my father, aren't you, Mummy?", her little sweetheart asked so cutely and attentively that it almost overwhelmed her. Camilla nodded, tears running down her face. "Yes, darling. He is.", she confirmed, sobbing heartbreakingly. "But why are you crying then, Mummy?", Thea wanted to know and lovingly wiped away her mother's tears. "It's okay. You and Sir are in love and I'm very fond of Sir, too. I think he loved me, too. Is he also Tom and Laura's father? But - wait, what's with Daddy?" Her clever little girl had so many, reasonable questions and, of course, Camilla was going to try and answer them all as best as she could. "No, darling, Sir's not Tom and Laura's father, that'd be Daddy, and Daddy will always be your Daddy as well. He loves you so much and this will not change anything between you two.", Camilla assured her. "He'll tell you himself as soon as we're back at the house, he's actually here, you know…" Thea's eyes widened in excitement. "Daddy's here?", she asked enthusiastically and Camilla nodded verifying. "He is, darling. And he can't wait to see you - wanna go and say hello to him?" "Yes, please!", Thea exclaimed cheerfully, and off she went…

[bobalegsanji]

Thank you for loving me - Chapter 1

Hii! I thought I might as well post my angsty Zosan fic on Tumblr!

You can also find this fic (and additional chapters) on AO3!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54749407/chapters/138761413

Summary: Sanji is going through a hard time. Zoro notices.

TW: panic attacks, depression, anxiety.

Sanji’s head hurts.

He lay in his bed, listening to the quarreling of his friends in the other rooms.

The clock on his nightstand reads 07:03.

He knows his housemates’ routine by heart. Zoro is getting breakfast before going to the gym. Nami is getting ready for her Friday morning class. Usopp and Luffy most likely just jumped into bed, a night full of imaginary adventures and alcohol behind them.

He sighs. Everything hurts.

He used to be able to do so much. He used to cook dinner every night. He’d occasionally join Zoro in one of his morning workouts (even though he could never keep up with him, he would always make him feel included and push him just the right amount). He would join everyone on their weekly Friday club night, usually going to the bar a couple streets down until they stumbled home at 5am, belly full of alcohol and heart full of laughter.

Sanji hasn’t joined in 3 weeks. The first week it was easy to come up with an excuse, an important project he had to finish before Monday hindering him from coming.

The second week was harder. He couldn’t use university as an excuse, not so close after last week. An excuse about a classmate's birthday party not entirely believable. In the end, he spent the evening at the library, only returning home when he was sure everyone had left for the club. Nami and Robin begged him to come, almost convincing him, but he refused. He wasn’t even sure why he did it. He could join them. Why go through the trouble of jumping through hoops to not hang out with his best friends?

Sanji isn’t sure. All he knows is that even thinking about the bright lights, dancing, alcohol and social contact makes his stomach turn.

The third week he faked an illness. Apparently, it was quite believable. Chopper, the sweet medical student he is, almost refused to go out in order to take care of Sanji. In the end, he managed to make them go. He needed a couple of hours of silence.

Sanji throws his hands over his eyes. His nails claw in his arms and tears prick at his eyes. Thinking about having to go out tonight stresses him out. He has no motivation to do anything. He could use university again as an excuse why he can’t go, even though he got dropped from his classes for not showing up. Not that he cared. He hadn’t told the others, not wanting to worry any of them. He was fine, he just needed some time alone and this would give him exactly that.

A knock at the door scared him away from his thoughts.

He quickly wiped his eyes to hide the few water droplets, hoping his voice didn't show any sign of emotion. ‘’Come in.’’

Zoro opens the door with a protein shake in his hand.

‘’Curly, you cooking tonight?’’

Sanji looks up at him. He used to cook daily, but in the last few weeks or so he hadn’t had enough energy. Last week he only cooked dinner for 3 days.

‘’What do you want, Marimo?’’

‘’Onigiri.’’

It puts a slight smile on his face. He’s been laying in bed dreading his whole existence, and all Zoro can think about is a potential dinner.

‘’Sure. You want salmon or tuna?’’

Zoro takes a swig of his protein shake before answering. ‘’Extra salmon.’’

Sanji puts his head down on the bed again, ready to go back to his morning rumination.

‘’Fine. Close the door on your way out.’’

He hears a humming sound before he hears footsteps coming closer and the door closes.

Sanji looks up, confused. Zoro usually doesn’t stay in his room any longer than he needs to.

‘’You want something else from me? I’m already making your favourite dinner tonight, leave me alone.’’

Zoro takes the last swig of his shake as he puts the empty bottle on Sanji’s desk and sits down in his chair.

Zoro looks at anything in the room but Sanji, slightly spinning in his chair as he speaks; ‘’Is something up?’’

Sanji almost laughs. Zoro and he are close. They’ve lived together for almost 4 years. He loves Zoro with his whole heart. But they don’t talk about feelings, ever.

He ends up staring at him.

‘’I’m great, thanks for asking. Shouldn’t you go to the gym? Don’t want your biceps to wait.’’

Zoro ends up staring right back.

‘’You haven’t been cooking lately, you love cooking.’’

Sanji awkwardly averts his eyes.

‘’I’ve been busy with university coursework. You know how it is.’’

‘’About that… You haven’t been to any classes this week, right?’’

Sanji stares at the ceiling. Zoro’s eyes are burning holes in him, yet he can’t make himself look back.

‘’Who told you that?’’

‘’Just noticed. Don’t think the others’ noticed.’’

Sanji sighs and hides his face behind his hands. What a mess he has created.

‘’Fine, I got dropped for this semester.’’

Zoro makes an acknowledging sound. If he wonders about anything else, he doesn’t ask.

‘’Want to come to the gym?’’

‘’I’m very content spending my Friday morning in bed, thank you very much. Please don’t tell the others about the… The dropped thing.’’

Zoro nods, ‘’as long as you’re fine I won’t.’’

‘’I am.’’

The two fall silent. It’s awkward. Sanji mentally curses Zoro for his good intentions. He just wants to be left alone.

‘’So you’re making onigiri then?’’

Sanji nods, looking up at Zoro for the first time since the start of their conversation.

‘’You should make something heavier as well. Only eating onigiri is going to give someone alcohol poisoning tonight.’’

Fuck. Now that Zoro knows, he can’t use university as an excuse out of the club night.

‘’I’ll make something else as well. Any recommendations?’’

Zoro shakes his head, ‘’I’m going if you won’t join me to the gym. You should come soon, or the progress you made will fade. Text me if you want anything from the store.’’

The door closes before Sanji can finish nodding.

He is tired.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #337

In stark contrast to yesterday, today I woke up and felt pretty good for reasons I don't understand. I did go to bed relatively on time, but the adapter on the power cord of my CPAP overheated (because I accidentally threw my wearable blanket over it), which caused it to power off at around 5am, thus waking me up.

...Maybe the glass of water I made it a point to drink before bed made a difference. I'm not sure.

It's just as well. J was waking up around then in order to go to the little airport; he wanted to go flying in his airplane with the mechanic, because they are fairly good acquaintances. I had a really weird feeling in the pit of my stomach, though; it was enough to almost get me to ask him to stay home. Instead, though, I decided to wake up and go with him, at least to the little airport.

...There are reasons for this that I don't think I can explain without sounding silly. So I won't.

J and I got some pretty good photos of the spectacular sunrise along the way; maybe you'll like these...

Here's one that I got:

...Here's one that J got:

...And here's one that I got of J getting one:

The little airport has a heated office with WiFi. So I just chilled out there, watched J take off in his little plane with the mechanic, and then waited for him to return. I got another few pictures for you while I was there...

After all that, I sat at the table with a playlist and worked on a doodle. This is the playlist I used:

...And... here is the doodle I worked on:

...Look familiar...? Hopefully...? And... do you remember the letter where I showed you just the face? It was a while ago, so it's cool if you don't remember.

...Yeah, I know; I've never been good at drawing hands. I didn't even bother to finish your right hand, there. The proportions of your face are... off... in a way that I don't know how to articulate. Still... still, I like the expression on your face. And it passes the “turn it upside down to see if it still looks like a face” test!!! And... I think I nailed the proportions for my borosilicate glass mug really nicely, too...

...It's been a really long time since last I doodled with any kind of consistency. Maybe one of these days, I'll write you a letter that contains some of the other things I've drawn... what I used to be capable of...

...I wish I could see you being that happy with my own eyes...

J returned shortly after I decided that this is probably as much as I'm gonna work on this particular doodle. As it turns out, he had another bounce similar to the one that led to the crash in the previous plane. So I guess there was a little bit of merit to the weird feeling I had this morning, after all. Fortunately, this time, he simply took to the sky again after the first bounce, and then tried landing again. He didn't have issues the second time.

We went home. And then I went to the grocery. We still have a lot of lamb leftover, so I thought to make gyros with the leftovers. A good gyro needs pita, cucumbers, onion, tomato, tzatziki, and a good feta cheese. I got all of those at the grocery, and then I returned home with the intention of dicing the veggies and cheese up into little bits, along with the lamb.

To my dismay, though, I discovered that we still have lots and lots of potatoes and mushrooms leftover. So instead of chopping up the cucumber, tomatoes, onions, and feta, I just fixed myself a bowl of diced lamb with the leftover potatoes and mushrooms. The gelled juices of the lamb and the veggies liquefied quite nicely, so it was kinda like eating a lamb-and-potato soup, and it was really good!

I had one of the pumpkin brownies with pumpkin cream cheese frosting afterwards:

...Given that I made these specifically with you in mind... it continues to be really sad that the best I can do is send along pictures. But... you have the recipe. If you ever get up out of that hole in the ground... you'll be able to make them. And when you do, I hope you'll tell me how you liked them.

I didn't do much else today. And... I don't intend to do much else today. So I guess I'll end today's letter here. I might play some Chrono Cross after this. Or I might do leisure writing; I haven't decided which. Or maybe I'll just go to bed early, I dunno. Suppose it depends on what M and J are up to.

Hey. I love you a whole lot. So please do your best to stay safe so you can get up out of that crater, okay? So then you can have brownies and mugs of tea, and wear expressions on your face that look kinda like the one I drew. Please...

I'll write again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

[ajokeformur-ray]

I've been meaning to write that gush post 2019!Erika style like I promised a few days ago but I keep watching the typing thingy blink at me on the screen and I just ???? How am I supposed to put into words how much Arthur Fleck means to me??? How can I do it? How am I supposed to articulate the fact that he's been my rock every day for the last (almost) four years?

How do I tell you about the sheer number of times I've been on my bathroom floor at 3am sobbing into my hands, trying so hard not to make a sound so I don't wake anyone up, and the only reason I've had it in me to brush off my tears, stand up and face the day is because of, smile, through your fear and sorrow, smile, and maybe tomorrow... or that's life, that's what all the people say... or step step step step step? How am I supposed to tell you that I have problems with food and it's easier for me to skip a meal but I have to actively coax myself into making something to eat, and most if not all of the time, I go and make myself food because eat, you need to eat (if food is pre-prepared, I have NO problem. It's just the effort and energy behind making the food which stumps me but I'm working on it)?

How do I tell you about all the times I get so frustrated with the work-study imbalance or not understanding something in my psych or counselling books that I end up banging my head on my desk and then I remember how horrified I feel every time Arthur does the same, and I stop because I'm sure he'd be horrified if he walked in on me doing it? How do I tell you about how, in my darkest moments, even when my cat can't get a smile out of me, Arthur can? How do I tell you that most mornings, on my way to work, I'm yawning, then chugging some coffee, wiping tears of frustration and/or exhaustion away, then yawning again, chugging coffee... for forty five minutes, this is my commute to work (and then from work), and sometimes I stop and do I have to do this again? I just did it yesterday and the day before and I'm tired but then I'll think about how soul-deep exhausted Arthur always was but he did it anyway and therefore, so can I? How do I tell you about all the times I've wanted to quit uni or I've been awake for 32 hours without a nap or any rest due to clashes between work and uni schedules or I've been awake until 3am working on assignments for uni only to then get up at 5am for work and I've been so tired I have cried every time I'm left alone, and I've wanted to quit uni and my job but ultimately I've picked myself up and got back in the race, that's life... and carried on because I started this for Arthur, because he and he alone inspired me so deeply that I took up a job which allows me to help vulnerable people, while doing a degree which will allow me to even further help people? And I've thought of quitting, baby, but my heart just ain't gonna buy it, and if I didn't think it was worth one single try...

How do I say any of this to you in a way which satisfies my heart that it's said everything correctly? How do I tell you any of these things in such a way that the sheer gravity of what he's done for me is properly articulated and put across?

I can't do it.

I just... I can't.

I don't even feel like I can say I love Arthur because it feels like such a silly statement when I compare it to the deep ache in my chest, the way I smile so hard it actually hurts my face, the way he makes the worst of days feel like they ultimately don't matter much because at least I can crawl into bed and watch him on a screen and feel like I'll be okay in the end, because how can I not be when he's up there on my screen, struggling but trying his hardest, and I'm doing exactly the same thing? If Arthur can handle it, so can I. Because no matter how bad my days get, I have some constants - my hair, coffee, music, my cat, my friends on here, fiction - but Arthur... he's the constant constant. He's seen me through grief, loss, tragedy, panic attacks, anxiety attacks, health scares, doctors appointments, operations, interviews, dentist appointments, fear, worry, stress, sorrow, sadness... through all of that, he's helped me to get back on my own feet and take another step, even if that step is right up on my tip-toes because I can't handle a proper step. But he's also seen me through happiness, joy, elation, pride, achievement, progress, he's seen me so happy I've cried, so excited I've squealed and jumped up and down and spun in circles while giggling, he's seen me through the last four years of my life and I'm sure he's gonna be with me for the rest of my life.

I don't know what our lives would look like together. I used to imagine it so vividly, but I'm not the same person I was four years ago - thankfully - but now I can barely see Arthur loving me. I mean, I know it, but I don't know it. Not like I used to. I feel like I've grown so much in this time that he would look at me and not be able to recognise me. My hair has grown out from when it used to be just like his in terms of length, and now it's just two or three inches away from my tailbone, I have glasses now, my room is always a mess because I don't have the time to clean it but if I do have the time, then I don't have the energy, I'm always a good few weeks behind on uni work, I'm always tired, and I just... even now, I look at Arthur and I look at me and I just can't... how??? And yet, at the same time, I have a firm belief that he and I would be a slow burn; we're both painfully shy but I always reach a point where it's like I get sick of my own shit and that's when I act, so maybe I'd be the reason we even talk to each other right in the very early days.

The way I envision our life together now is not at all how I used to envision it and I'm grateful for the change in perception but also I worry that as I am now, our 2019 Arthur wouldn't love me. But perhaps that's just my self-destructive streak making noise; it's much louder when I get stressed and unfortunately for me, I'm always stressed and tight-chested. Between a highly physically and emotionally demanding job which, even when I'm not on shift, I am still dealing with work commitments and group chats and stuff like that, and university, I am swamped, but then I get changed out of my work uniform and slide my Arthur hoodie back on or I come home and grab my Joker cushion and hold it tight or I get out of the shower and put my rings back on, and I feel like I can breathe again.

I would take every punch, every hit, every insult, every rude word, every glare, every 'joke' his co-workers make, I would take everything if it meant that Arthur would be healthy and safe and protected and cared for and loved. I want to take all of those violent marks and bruises across his body and replace them with love, make him feel like he can come home to me every night just like I get to come home to him every night, too. I feel most myself when I watch Joker because I see 2019 Erika, 2020 Erika, 2021 Erika, 2022 Erika, and now 2023 Erika is seeing all those Erikas, changed and new, and seeing an Arthur who is never changing and always the same, and I always find myself in this film. It's my true ultimate comfort and I wouldn't be here or be where I am without this film or without all the things Arthur has taught me. He's made me kinder, gentler, softer, he made me realise what I want to do in life, and I am forever grateful to the man who saved me. I've said it before, not in great detail, but the people who know, know; Arthur saved me. Oncoming traffic was too strong a temptation before I walked into the cinema on the 4th October 2019, and when I walked out, I found myself stepping out of the way of the road so I could go back the next day to see Joker again. And I did. Again and again and again and again until I looked at myself and realised I hadn't seriously thought about traffic or cliffs for months.

And since the day I realised that, I haven't once looked back. I only glance over my shoulder now and then to see how far I've come, and then I face my front again and step step step step step -

And I keep Arthur tightly in my heart all the while because I'm scared that if I let go of him for even a SECOND, 2019 will become my reality once again. It almost is happening again, I'm right on the edge, but I'm holding onto Arthur tightly. I'm keeping him right here with me to remind me that he is my reason. For my life, for my job, for my degree... I want to be someone he would be proud of, someone he could look at and love as deeply as I love him. He's a beautiful tragedy and I love absolutely everything about him. Everything. And we all know that Joker is the part of Arthur I always lean to the most, he's the one I think of for anything, he's the one I picture holding me when the world has me on my knees in my bedroom or in the bathroom, he's the one I picture brushing my hair and braiding it, he's the one I picture through it all, and I don't know if the start of Joker would bring about an end to what Arthur and I have or if he would only deepen it... I don't know if Joker would love me too but I do know that I only love him more because he's Joker. His lap is my crimson throne, his body is my weighted clown blanket, and I... I don't feel like I can say I love him, as I said, it seems silly in comparison, but it's the only phrase I have.

All I know is, if I thought I had even half a chance with Arthur, I would break down every carefully constructed wall around me, every promise to myself, and I'd let him in. I swore, almost six years ago, never again, but four years ago, I swore that I'd let one man in. Just one.

Arthur. Joker. Carnival. Whomever he is, he's my one and only, and I wish I could say even half of this stuff to him.💖

[kasplonkable]

Domestic Hcs: Layla El-Faouly

I just get the feeling she's an early riser. But by early riser, I mean she's up an already organising what you're both doing, while also in the process of waking you up too

Like, it'll be 5am and she's there with a cup of coffee, letting you know that she's going on a hike in less than an hour, and you're coming with her

"Babe, it's literally 4:47 AM, the sun isn't even fully up yet"

"But it's almost up, which means we're wasting time!"

Despite that, it's always worth it to see the way the early morning light casts shadows on her face; she looks even more striking than normal in the orange glow of the sunrise

You have these extravagant movie nights, where you end up making a blanket fort and putting up fairy lights, and making hot chocolates heaped with whipped cream and marshmallows

She gently kisses you when you get whipped cream on your top lip

She also gets mad at the movie you're watching, like if it's a horror movie then she's yelling about the logic used

"Oh yeah, great idea!! Split up with a serial killer in the house, what could possibly go wrong?"

But it's worse if it's a romance movie

Both of you will be playfully gagging at the kissing scenes and rolling your eyes at the cheesy lines, giggling whenever something dumb happens

Dancing around the kitchen in fuzzy socks

You get so caught up in the moment that you forget the pasta until it bubbles over, making a loud hiss that makes you both jump

I imagine her house being really bright and airy, and full of cool artifacts

When you first saw them, you thought they were just cool replicas, until you eventually figured out the truth

"Wait, Layla, is that the real statue of khufu?"

"..........it's too nice to sit in a museum"

"How did you even get it?......Babe?!"

It's not like you're going to tell anyone though, so for now it'll just have to stay on the bookshelf, right next to her collection of French poetry

One day you walk into the kitchen to find Layla talking to a stray calico cat at the window. She had given her a small plate of chicken that she'd been cooking for lunch and a bit of water

You didn't want to disrupt the moment by walking in, so you watched from the doorway with the most loving expression a person could muster

After that, the cat would keep coming back. Same time everyday there would be tapping and loud meowing coming from the kitchen; the signal it was time to feed her

You're not quite sure when it happened, but eventually she kind of let herself in, roaming the house, before getting comfortable on the bed and falling asleep

Since then she's never left

Layla always considered herself more of a dog person, but it melts your heart when you see her with the cat curled up in her lap

She has. So. Many. Boots. And because she takes them off at the door, you find yourself tripping over a pair sometimes when you're on your way out

But then, you leave books around the house constantly, sometimes to the point where she can't even see the table underneath all the papers

One would think you get annoyed at eachother for these things, but somehow it's endearing to find boots at the door and know Layla is home from a long day. Just like how she finds books on the table and knows you've become passionate about something new

Despite that, I reckon she's a pretty tidy person

She takes spring cleaning very seriously. On the first day of spring, she puts up a checklist of everything that needs to be sorted out, and systematically works her way through it

It's too much to get done in one day, but you work together and the list is cleared within about a week

It's nice to take a moment to sit down, knowing that there's nothing left to do except curl up, and enjoy eachothers company

---

Is it obvious yet how much I love her? I've been wanting to write this for ages, but studying has been getting in the way. Speaking of, this will probably be my last post for a couple of months. Exam stress is getting real and I want to give myself the best chance I can to do well! I do have some more stuff in the works, but I won't be looking at it until my exams are done. Hope you enjoyed this though, and as always, feel free to request anything and I'll get to it when I can!! :-)

[honeyabyss]

Mc falling asleep next to them

Lucifer:

he had been working nonstop for hours now and the pile of yet to be read and signed documents wasn't getting any smaller

you had been sitting in his study silently working on your own assignments, that was until you've finished them about an hour ago

pacing his room in boredom and looking at the stuff he keeps in his closets (mostly books, records and demonus)

"Could you stop wandering around, you're irritating me!" Lucifer is stressed, annoyed, etc and your sighs, constant footsteps and opening and closing of closet doors, didn't help him to concentrate

you could have left the room and found something else to do, but you were determined to spend some time with him, as the evening work hours are quite literally the only hours where you can be alone with him

so instead you seeked permission for putting on a record to have at least some entertainment, which was both a good and a bad choice at the same time

yes you had something to enjoy and relax to, but the relaxing part worked a little bit too well

after a good ten minutes you were sleeping peacefully, stretched out all over his sofa with no care in the world

"I'm going to take a small break and get some coffee. Do you want something as well?" Lucifer asked only to be met with silence, which he didn't appreciate

he was about scold you for being rude, when his gaze fell on your sleeping form and the words seemed stuck in his throat

how could you sleep so peacefully right next to one of the strongest demons of hell, he honestly didn't know if he was pleased you found comfort in his presence or if he should be annoyed that you don't take him serious enough

nonetheless you seemed to have a good sleep and as this is often near impossible in the House of Lamentation, he decided to let you sleep

he got himself his coffee and once back in his study he moved his workplace to the small coffee table and took a seat next to you on the sofa

he adjusted your form so you weren't hanging half of the edge and put his coat over your sleeping form for some warmth

"Foolish little lamb, letting your guard down in a house of wolves, good thing I'm here to protect you..."

Mammon:

"And then I, the Great Mammon, made an action movie worthy escape and totally didn't run away in a panic, because Lucifer was chasing me..."

he had been telling you how exactly he got into the situation of hanging from the ceiling once again, as you've tried as careful as possible to cut him free, which was harder then expected with the way he kept moving around

once finally free, he dropped onto the ground, whining about the rope burns he got basically all over his body, though demons heal quicker, it still wasn't a nice feeling

with a sigh you offered him your hand and pulled him up and away to your room to give him some of the salve Satan had made you the last time you had accidentally cut yourself while cooking

you sat a flustered Mammon onto your bed while you went ahead and searched through your bathroom cabinets that were filled with products Asmo had gifted you, when you finally found it you asked Mammon to hold still while you put some salve onto his burned skin

"W-what?! N-no way! I don't need your help, I can do that on my own!" and with that Mammon stormed away with your salve and locked himself into your bathroom

you knew better then to argue at this point, Mammon would do what Mammon wants to do...until he fails and seeks protection behind your back...

be it because he is embarrassed, doesn't know how to open the salve tube, or because there were so many rope burns...but Mammon took quite long to apply the crème, leaving you to wait for him for at least half an hour now

helping out Mammon can become quite tiring, not that you mind helping him or don't like being around him, but a nap sounds nice right now

and so you lay down in your bed, it is after all your room, and just because Mammon is currently camping out in your bathroom, doesn't mean that you can't take a nap

Mammon comes out of the bathroom a few minutes later, he probably needed a few more minutes to build up courage to face and thank you, but he is met with the sight of you sleeping on your bed

Mammons brain is working overdrive, trying to figure out if he should leave the room quietly, wake you up or stay and watch over you...then again he doesn't want to be seen as a creep by you, but he can't deny that he would like to stay with you

he carefully climbs into bed and pushes you a bit further in so you sleep on the wall side and don't fall off in case you move, it takes five more minutes until Mammon risks putting his arm around you all while holding his breath in anticipation of your rejection, when none comes he settles a little closer to you and falls asleep as well

"Don't worry my human, the Great Mammon is gonna keep you warm and protected in your sleep!"

Bonus: even though you two fall asleep next to each other with only Mammons arm wrapped around you, expect him to wake up on top of you holding you like your his pillow

Leviathan:

it was 5am and Levi and you were currently waiting in line in front of a shop to get your hands on a new limited edition Ruri-Chan figurine

surprisingly enough even though you turned up quite early, there were a good amount of people in front of you

the shop would only open a 9am so you still had a long time to queue in the coldness of the devildom morning

"Ah that is not fair! We planned everything so carefully, it was the perfect timing, why aren't we first in line?" Levi complained while standing on his tiptoes to be able to see and count the demons in front of him, coming to the conclusion that if everyone were to buy one figurine he'd still be able to buy one for himself...and whatever you might want

you weren't the happiest when he told you about his plan a few weeks prior and getting woken up this early you might have been a little slower than usual in getting yourself ready, now that you were here you couldn't help but feel a little guilty

you tried to cheer Levi up with the argument that if you were longer in line that also meant you could spend more time together, which resulted in Levi turning into a blushing but happy mess

you put down the blanket you've brought and made yourself comfortable on it, Levi joining you but looking a bit stiff from the closeness

you ate a breakfast consisting out of sandwiches made with whatever was left after Beels midnight snack, which wasn't much but better than nothing

afterwards as there was still a lot of time to pass you started to play some games on his Switch, trying to stay awake

the emphasis lies on 'trying', because after 2 hours or so you start to fall asleep, eyelids and limbs heavy, you don't have the energy left in you to fight the sleep and so you nod off, your head falling onto Levis shoulder who had been inching closer over the period of time...to be able to better see the Switch display not to be closer to you...

Levi.exe has stopped working

there he sits red as a tomato with Mc sleeping on his shoulder, the queue in front of him starts to pack up and move as the shop gets ready to open up, his Switch display is showing the game over screen, his mind feels fogged over and he has no idea how to react now

Mc just fell asleep and Levi feels guilty to wake them...but they have to move...

"H-hey Mc? T-the line i-is moving? Wake up....please..." his attempts are way to quiet for you to hear and even as he gently shakes your shoulder you do not wake, leaving Levi quiet in a dilemma

"N-no other choice..." he says as he packs up the stuff alone, leaving only you sitting on the cold floor...he can't just leave you here..

Levi turns into his demon form, his hands shaking and eyes flitting across your from and over the crowd of other demons, before he carefully lifts you into his arm, his tail wrapping around you as well for more stabilization, so he has one hand free to carry his shopping bag later

he never bought something faster than that day, he got his figurine and even bought you some anime merch he knew you had stated to like, all while feeling like he was running the worst fever of his life and receiving stares, giggles and smug smiles from way too may people, that was enough attention for at least a century for Levi...but he did like holding you in his arms

"This is not fair! I have to deal with all the embarrassment while you sleep...but I guess it's okay if it's for you..."

Satan:

Satans last anger fit had caused way more damage than usually, it had taken place in the library when Mammon had tried to steal a very rare book about spells, to sell it after he found out how rare it actually is...now that lead to Satan throwing down and emptying almost all bookshelves and kicking Mammon through the room

While Mammon was strung upside down from the ceiling, Satan was forced to clean up the library alone, but you had pity on him as there were quite a lot to clean up, if Lucifer doesn't find out you helped there will be no consequences

Satans opinion about you helping was split, first of all he was really thankful for the help even though he was at fault for the chaos, having to clean up all alone was a bit much, but on second thought Satan was worried that you tried to go against Lucifers orders, he's proud of you for defying his eldest brother but also feels like it's a stupid idea

but you have made your mind up and so while Satan repairs and stands up the shelves, you begin to put the books in, you might not know the exact way they stood like Satan, but for now getting them off the floor is the priority

there aren't many words spoken as you silently work away, only once in a while you point out a book which got a bit more damage, the cover hanging off loosely or a few pages ripped out, you two decide depending on the damage if it can be fixed or not

every now and then Satan asks you to hold a piece of a shelf together while he fixes it, he is surprisingly fast and knows exactly how to repair it...just as if he had to do it more than once in a while...

"Oh Mc? Can you give me the screwdriver? No no that one, the one with the cross head is what I need..." you had no idea there were so many different tools, and wouldn't be the slotted one sufficient if you just angled it right? Satan just laughs and let's you try it for yourself, only for you to fail, he then shows you how to do it correctly guiding you through fixing your first shelf

"The last shelf is standing again, I'll help you with the book now." Satan pointed out, a small ray of hope now that only the books were left, you didn't reply, which honestly wasn't really necessary, but a small affirming noise would have been nice, so Satan tries to keep the 'conversation' going, while he works on the books with his back turned to you

"...you're still ignoring me? Are you angry at me for making such a mess? You know you didn't have to help...you can go, no need to act like all high and mighty!" he was getting angry again, yes he did make a mess, but he didn't do anything to you! Had he? He couldn't remember, but humans might interpret actions and words differently…he didn't want you to be mad at him, and neither did he want to get angry at you, but with you ignoring him it became quite difficult to keep his voice low

having enough and wanting to make up before it gets worse, he makes his way over to you, who was leaning against a shelf with a book in your hand

as he sits down next to you and turns your body to him through a guiding hand on your shoulder, he startles, you fell asleep in a sitting position? That sounds more like something Belphie would do...Isn't that uncomfortable?

You must have been exhausted after filling up three shelves of books and fell asleep midway on your fourth shelf, Satan chuckles amused and relieved you aren't mad at him but simply sleeping

He picks you up and brings you to your room where he lies you down in your bed, covering you with the blanket and hesitantly stroking your hair before going back to cleaning up the library

"Thank you for being so patient with me and helping me! You can rest now and I'll make it up to you later!"

Bonus: he will most definitely take you out on a date of your choice, even if he doesn't enjoy the idea as much as you

Asmodeus:

Asmo had taken you out shopping, as he claimed his wardrobe was not having the right clothes anymore so he had to get new ones fast

he had dragged you through town for the whole day and you two only returned home late in the afternoon, you completely exhausted and ready to drop in your bed, while Asmo while being slightly tired, still insisted on putting on all the clothes and showing them off to you and his followers on Devilgram

he entrusted you with his D.D.D to take some nice amazing shots of him to gain even more followers, though that seemed impossible as it already felt as if the whole population of hell was already subscribed to his account

but as long as all you had to do was hold the D.D.D up and click the screen for a picture, you were fine, you sat down on Asmos bed trying not to disturb the bags of clothes that lay there as well

Asmos screen lit up nearly every few seconds with a new message, how did this man not get crazy with all the message?! And he must check them all, because whenever you write him, he is on and writing back instantly...maybe you should steal his D.D.D from time to time to get him away from it...

While Asmo was changing into new clothes in the bathroom, you could hear him humming a happy tune, clearly in his element and enjoying his time, which made you happy as well, but the exhaustion was still plaguing you and the bed felt unbelievably comfy and on top of that the humming of Asmo was slowly lulling you into sleep

"Oooh Mc~ I especially like this top! Just look how nicely it fits, it shows of my best parts, which are all of me haha...hey Mc?~ Look at me!" Asmo pouted as you stayed put on his bed, and climbed over your form, already expecting you to start pushing him off, only to get concerned when you don't

then he sees your eyes are closed and you seem to be peacefully asleep, he instantly coos at your sweet sleeping expression, the back of his hand caresses you cheeks softly, but you don't react much besides moving a bit into am ore comfy position

Asmo backs off and begins to put down his bags, then he tucks you under his covers and climbs right in with you, pulling you close so that you lie on his chest, his arms encircling you to keep you put

the pictures for Devilgram are forgotten for now, they're not running away anyway, you two can continue another time, but for a beauty nap sounds good

"Oh Mc! You look so cute when you're sleeping...next time tell me you need a break, I'm happy to cuddle you while you're recovering!"

Beelzebub:

you had decided to stay a bit longer at RAD today, because you still had something to discuss with one of the teacher, as well as doing some research for an essay that was due next week

most of the brothers had already left for home or different work related activities, except Beel who had Fangol practice today after school, and as you were not allowed to walk around the Devildom without someone accompanying you for protection, all that was left for you was to wait for Beel to finish his practice, which usually took place for about two hours

you sat down on one of the benches at the side of the field, waving to Beel so he knew you where you were and could keep an eye on you

you worked away on your homework and checked you D.D.D from time to time replying to all the messages you got

the practice seemed to be still not finished even after two hours had passed and you were getting a bit tired from sitting around, but you also couldn't just wander off, Beel might start worry...plus the risk of running into a less friendly demon was still a thing

so you shifted from one position into another not really being able to get comfortable on the hard wooden bench

the ground seemed to be comfier with every minute passing, and so you lay down ignoring the weird looks of the team and trainers, you're body simply wasn't made to sit on this bench longer than necessary

"Here you can wrap yourself in this...it's getting cold. Training is almost over, just hold out a few more minutes!" Beel came over and gave you his jacket and you quickly put it on revelling in his warmth

but here is the problem the jacket made you feel so comfortable that you fell asleep, right on the floor next to a few dozen demons

"We're finished! I'm hungry, let's go get something to eat, any wishes what you want?" Beel was packing his stuff and rambling on about how he could eat at least one year worth of food, training having starved him quite a lot

but when you didn't respond he grew worried and kneeled down next to you, gently resting his hand on your side, he simply laughed when he saw you fell asleep, he is used to it due to Belphie, so he carefully picks you up and carries you home, deciding to order food once there

just Beel giving you a piggy back home, softly smiling to himself and being happy you've come to be so at ease around demons..still at bit worried, but he'll protect you, no worries

"I'll stay by your side until you wake up...and then we can eat lots of good food...please just don't sleep too long or I might have to eat before you wake up."

Belphegor:

so there he was, sleeping, on your bed, in your room, without an invitation...and honestly it wasn't even a surprise anymore, coming home after a work shift at Hell's Kitchen and just wanting to sleep, but no there was no space for you on the bed

I have no idea how, but he manages to occupy the whole bed, and hog blanket and pillows to himself as well

if only he was easy to wake, just to tell him to move over, but no he wouldn't wake up unless you pulled the big guns and nobody wants to face the consequences after one dumped water bottle on his head, it would be a hundred times easier and less dangerous to wake Satan

but you were really tired and just wanted to cuddle into your bed, maybe you could maneuver him with a bit strength..actually forget that...you could always call Beel for help to carry him to his own bed, but by the way he was clinging to your blanket and pillows, that would only end in a empty mattress to sleep on and then you would get cold...

honestly it was his own fault at this point you had threatened him to do it, but he had just laughed it off...

and so you climbed into bed and lay down on top of him, wrapping your arms around him so that you would get at least his body warmth if not the blanket

to your surprise he didn't wake up and he was really comfy, his rhythmic breathing was really relaxing and it didn't take you long to fall asleep

after some time Belphie wakes up with you wrapped around him, he quickly realises that you're asleep, but is stunned nonetheless that you would actually have the guts to sleep on top of him with the risk of waking him up in a bad mood

"That's quite bold of you! You didn't think I will let that slip though, right?" he chuckles amused but shifts nonetheless to make room for you, his embrace is tight, and he hopes just a little bit that you wake up, so he can tease you, but you stay asleep looking content with your new position

"I suppose I could go for another nap...now that I have my favourite pillow with me, sleeping will be even better!" he cuddles you, just like the blanket and pillows...which you don't get any of by the way, but you get Belphie so that's even better, he's gonna keep you warm, don't worry

"You're such a odd human...no idea why I like you...anyway just stay here in my arms and sleep!"

Diavolo:

yesterday was amazing, Dia had taken you to a trip in the human world and you had showed him around, visiting as many places as you two could

what you didn't know was that he had actually sneaked out of the castle to spend time with you

well you didn't know until a very angry Barbatos opened a portal right in front of you two and started lecturing Dia for at least one hour

you felt a bit guilty that you were the indirect cause of this and quickly apologised to him promising to make it up

so here you were in Dias office, overseeing him to do his work so he couldn't sneak out again and Barb didn't have to find him

after all if the reason for sneaking out was right in his room then he had no reason to go, besides the intimidating amount of work left on his desk after yesterdays excurse

Dia worked concentrated for most of the time, only now and then staring out of the window or talking to you

"Isn't it boring to watch me work? I can work alone, I promise to run away...or else Barbatos might get a heart attack from shock of seeing me gone again" he chuckled while signing another document

you reassured you didn't mind sitting next to him in silence, you had a good book borrowed from Satan, tea and cookies from Barbatos and you could stare at Diavolo all day long

your last statement made Dia flush red quite quickly and he tried to distract himself with his work, he slouched over in his chair trying to escape your gaze, but you were having none of it

your arms snaked around his waist and your head came to lean on his shoulder, Dia stiffened not sure how to react he liked the feeling of you hugging him, but now he was scared to move too much as not to disturb you or accidentally hit you with his elbow while trying to write

after a few more documents his eyes flit over to your face, cheek squished against his shoulder, eyes closed and breathing calmly

"Mc? Are.. are you sleeping?" he is whispering trying not to be too loud in case you are truly sleeping, and that you are! A soft smile graces his lips, nobody was ever this relaxed around him, he is proud and wants you to stay asleep as long as possible

he keeps working until Barbatos knocks on the door, coming in and announcing to have brought more tea, only to stop when he sees the sight in front him, Mc holding onto Dia, head resting on his shoulder and sleeping, while Dia put his finger to his lips to tell him not to be too loud

you sleep for an hour or so until Dia really has to move, apologising multiple times for having to wake you

"I'm glad you're able to relax around me, please continue to be yourself! My shoulder is always there for you to nap!"

Barbatos:

"You liked the cake that much? I'm flattered! I could teach you how to make it if you'd like?"

you had been over for tea at the castle and the chocolate cake with black-as-hell cherries was the best cake you've ever ate, it was bittersweet in taste not too much sweetness and not too much bitterness, paired with the melting chocolate, you could have eaten the whole cake on your own

you doubt you'd be able to get the same ingredients in the human realm but maybe you could find similar ones, so you were more than willing to learn with Barbatos

and so you arranged to meet the next Sunday afternoon for a baking session

Barb let you into the castle already awaiting you at the door even though you were early

you two worked on the cake, Barb explaining each step carefully, even for the easiest steps he takes his time to explain and help you, being very patient with you no matter how much you screw up

"Next we have to melt the chocolate in a pot. Wait a minute I turn on the stove for you" while you put the chocolate pieces into a pot, Barb moves behind you and turns on the stove, his arms brushing your sides, yet he stays fully focused, what can't be said for you

the cake is put together quickly with you two working together and while it bakes in the oven and the chocolate is meting, you two go ahead and start cutting and coring the rest of the cherries to decorate the cake later

"Here have a taste, they're bitter at first but the aftertaste is nicely sweet!" He holds out a cored cherry for you to taste and eats one himself, smiling gently at you while you sniff at the fruit first, which smells exactly like a normal human world cherry

the only thing left to do is wait for the cake so you two sit down for some tea at a small table in the kitchen, talking about the week, when Diavolo calls for Barb and he quickly excuses himself to help the prince out

the sweet aroma of the baking cake, the warmth of the tea and the very comfy chair you're sitting in, are a dangerous combination making you fall asleep

as Barb returns he sees you with your head lying on your folded arms on the table, clearly asleep, Barb decides to eave you there while cleans the kitchen and checks on the cake half an hour later

"Mc? The cake is ready to be decorated do you want sleep or do you want to help me?" somewhat embarrassed you stand up and help him with the decorations , Barb acts if nothing happened but he can't help but think about your gentle expression while you slept

"Next time I'll let you sleep longer... I wouldn't mind if you visited me for your naps if that meant I could see you more often."

Solomon:

learning magic was many things: exciting, frustrating, dangerous, fun...but sometimes it also was unbelievable boring

like when you think about magic, you think about casting charms, curses, making potions and all that stuff, but nobody told you that beforehand you have to learn everything about the new spell or etc in theory!

so here you were sitting with Solomon as he rambled on about how while the shrinking charm could have really bad side effects if casted wrong, sure it was important to know how to cast it correctly but did you really have to listen on to everything that might go wrong?

listening to all this just make you feel less confident, I mean technically you were practicing with a tea cup to shrink, so shrinking only a part of it wouldn't be too bad of a side effect, but what if you used too much pressure and made the cup explode and you'd hurt Solomon in the process?!

You took a deep breath, which made Solomon stop talking as he looked at you questioningly

"Anything wrong? Already giving up? Is it toom much?" his light teasing was meant to make you relax, but all you could do was give a small, stiff smile, signalling for him to continue and he did, after messing up your hair with his hand giving you a huge grin, but he talked slower now giving you more glances to make sure you were still alright

"How about a small break? I'll make us some tea..." he stood up and made some tea...in a beaker over a Bunsen burner..this weirdo..

the tea didn't taste weird though, it was just normal tea, even though the preparation would have made Barbatos get a stroke

after the break he was back to full tutor mode and your concentration slipped with each new word, until your head falls down, your chin resting on your chest comfortably, you had fallen asleep right before him

Solomon notices instantly that you're asleep and starts laughing so loud that you wake up again, he is crying and gasping for breath at your flustered state and you hit for good measurement on the arm

"Am I that boring? Fine if you're tired you can rest on my bed. I'll read you a bedtime spell book..." he doesn't stop laughing and teases you endlessly, you better be on your toes around him, you won't be hearing the end of this

"Hey sleepyhead? Do you want me to read you into boredom? I won't take pictures of your sleeping and drooling self...No promises made though..."

Simeon:

He was staring blankly at his manuscript, writers block had been plaguing him for quite some while now, but the new chapter had to be sent to the company until next week

you had offered to help him out maybe you could give him some ideas, so he invited you over and let you read the latest chapter so you'd know what had happened

you sat in his room brainstorming ideas on a small extra sheet trying your best to help Simeon out who looked quite lost

"Do you think that would work? Doesn't if feel a bit too rushed? But maybe if we combined these two ideas together..." he seemed to had found something and began to roughly write up a plan for his further writings

he continuously asked you questions about the smallest details, it was kind of cute that he relied so much on you, he probably could have done the rest himself as well, yet he kept involving you into the whole process

while his one hand scribbled like a madman, his other rested on your arm occasionally lightly squeezing it, reminding you that he didn't forget about you

you slowly fell asleep, the sounds of each others breathing, the pen scratching over paper and the ticking of the clock hanging on the wall, the inly sounds to be heard

"What about this part? How do you think it could go from here?...Mc?" he wasted no time in making sure you were lying comfortably, putting his cloak over your form and still squeezing your arm from time to time while he continued to write late into the night

only then did he notice, the brothers might worry about your absence, should he wake and bring you home? or should he let you sleep here and inform Lucifer about your safety? but the sofa you were currently sitting on, would make your back hurt if you continued to sleep here

it took him some time debating with himself, but came to the conclusion to carry you to his bed and tuck you in, giving you a forehead kiss like he was used to with Luke, only to realise what he'd done and quickly scrambling away in embarrassment to give Lucifer a quick call about the situation

"Have sweet dreams my lamb! I'll be guarding you in any realm, even the dream realm!"

Luke:

Luke, Simeon and you were having a small movie evening, watching some old Disney movies

Simeon didn't allow you to watch something else to protect Luke, but you didn't mind too much

you were having some freshly made desserts by Luke who had worked on them the whole day, as he was very excited for your meetup

you watched a few movies, talking, laughing and joking together, just having fun

"Huh? They called the mean cat Lucifer? Hahah how fitting, he kind of even looks like the real Lucifer! Ah, don't tell him that though!" Luke really liked to compare the different characters to the people he knows, but when there actually were a cat called Lucifer he was quite surprised...who would want their cute pet to be called like a demon? Why not call them angel names? Michael is a pretty cool name...

over the time you became more and more tired and Simeon seemed to notice, suggesting on stopping for today and continuing another time, but Luke convinced you two of one more movie

unfortunately you didn't last the final movie and fell asleep cuddled underneath the blanket between Simeon and Luke

Luke took some time to notice, only seeing it when he turned to you wanting to tell you his opinion about the last scene

"Oh! Simeon... Mc fell asleep..." Simeon already knew, as you had fallen onto his shoulder, not that he minded, he just told Luke to stay quiet and watch the rest of the movie

Luke cuddled up to you to keep you warm and occasionally glanced at you to make sure you were okay, and there cuddled next to you he as well fell asleep...trapping Simeon underneath your combined weight, making it impossible for Simeon to get out of the bed, so you three just slept together that night

"Don't worry Mc! I'll keep all demons away from you while you sleep!"

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

All Men Have Limits - III

Character: Dick Grayson x Reader x Bruce Wayne

Summary: A certain bat believes that Y/N is in way over her head, that she’s too naive to act in her best interest. So, whether she wants it or not, the vigilante family is going to help and protect her before she gets herself killed.

Word Count: 3,500+

Previously on…

Bruce was having yet another night without sleep. It happened often. And similar to the rest of the family, he just learned to function on very few hours of sleep.

So, he decided to make his way down to the kitchen.

But as he walked down the long hallway of bedrooms, he noticed that Y/N’s door was open. He glanced inside to see that it was empty and her bed was still neatly made from this morning. 

He looked down at this watch to see that it was almost 5AM.

A part of Bruce expected to find Y/N snacking or drinking coffee. But she wasn’t in the kitchen either.

Bruce sighed, realizing where she’d be and made his way down to the cave.

He expected to find Y/N with her eyes bloodshot and shoulders hunched over at the computers.

What he didn’t expect was to find Y/N passed out, slouched in the chair, knees in her chest and head balanced on the palm of her hand. How her elbow stayed propped up on the arm of the chair was beyond Bruce.

He smirked at the sight.

Perhaps she’d been spending too much time around the Wayne family. She was starting to adopt their bad habit of exhausting themselves.

Bruce knew she would be irritated if he moved her. But, honestly, he didn’t really care.

Carefully, Bruce slipped his arms behind her back – separating her from the chair – and then behind her knees, slowly lifting her into his arms.

Even though the movement was extremely smooth, Y/N still stirred.

“I was just taking a cat nap,” Y/N mumbled, but couldn’t even open her eyes to make the argument compelling. “I’m still working.”

“No, you’re not. Time to get some sleep.”

“Mmmm. Fine,” she slurred and tucked her head into his neck.

Bruce wasn’t sure if her mind even put together that it was him carrying her.

But he savored the closeness as he carried her out of the cave and up the stairs to the second floor of the manor.

When they got to her bedroom, Bruce put her down on the bed so softly, that she didn’t even feel it. Then he bent down to take off her shoes and unfolded the covers to tuck her in.

Just as Bruce reached the door.

Y/N woke up slightly and muttered, “Night, Bruce.”

His hand froze on the doorknob. It was so quiet that he wasn’t even sure if he had imagined it. But he couldn’t find the courage to turn and face her.

So he shut the door and let her sleep.

————

“Where’s Y/L/N?” Damian asked the table.

She usually ate breakfast with them.

“Still sleeping,” Bruce answered without looking up from the newspaper. “No one bother her today. She needs to rest,” that made him look up and give a warning look to Tim, Damian, and Dick.

Then Jason came stomping into the kitchen.

He grabbed a pastry and ate it standing up, getting crumbs all over the floor.

“Where’s ladylove?” He asked with his mouth so full that he looked like a chipmunk.

Bruce ignored him and looked back down at the paper.

But Dick frowned at him. “Don’t call her that.”

“What do you care?” Jason laughed.

Dick didn’t dignify the question with an answer. He just thrust his chair back and shoved Jason’s shoulder as he stormed past him.

“What’s his fucking deal?” Jason asked once he was out of ear shot.

“Watch your language,” Bruce warned with a glare from behind his paper.

Jason exhaled a laugh. “I’m not a kid. I also don’t live under your roof anymore.”

“And I consider that a gift,” Damian muttered loud enough for everyone to hear.

Jason smacked the back of his head.

Damian flew out of his seat and lunged for him. “I will end you, Todd!”

“Maybe when you hit puberty, demon spawn.”

“Damian!” Bruce shouted to get his son’s attention. His son snapped to attention. But then Bruce’s tone was eerily calm when he continued with, “Control your anger.”

It was something they’d been working on since Damian arrived at the manor. Bruce guessed that Damian would always have a temper. But he needed to learn how to control it. Through time and practice, he got better.

Damian took in a deep breath, but still looked like he wanted to murder Jason.

“I will be training,” Damian announced through an irritated sigh before leaving.

Bruce glared at Jason. “Don’t push him.”

“He started it.”

“You claim you’re not a kid, so don’t act like one.”

“Speaking of kids…” Jason started with a smile.

Bruce swiftly stood up. “Don’t even try.”

Then he was gone as well, leaving just Jason and Tim.

“Well, it appears everyone is in a rather bad mood this morning,” Jason joked.

But there was no response from Tim.

“Are you sleeping with your eyes open?!?” Jason yelled.

That woke up Tim and he jumped. “Huh? What?”  

————

Y/N would’ve slept the whole day if she hadn’t smelled the coffee and breakfast.

She winced as she woke up to see if her mind was playing tricks on her.

But on top of her nightstand sat a beautiful, antique tray with a full American breakfast on it, a cup of water, a giant mug of coffee, and a little vase with a tiny flower in it – a single, pink peonie.

Y/N rubbed her eyes awake with a shy smile.

Alfred was way sneakier than she realized if he could bring in a full tray like this and not even wake her up. She must be far more exhausted than she originally thought.

But then a piece of paper caught her eye. A note.

Y/N reached for it.

In the neatest handwriting Y/N had ever seen, she read:

“Perhaps you should take the day to relax. I apologize for my behavior last night.”

Y/N snorted at the word ‘behavior.’ Everything he had done last night was passive. It was more of an energy and tension than actual behavior. But Y/N had to give him credit for being aware of it. He had annoyed her last night, especially when Dick somehow took the fall for her own actions regarding her own life.

She ate the food at a disturbingly fast rate, not realizing how starved she’d felt until taking the first bite.

She would definitely miss Alfred’s cooking when she finally left Wayne Manor… whenever the hell that would be.

Y/N hoped it was sooner rather than later.

‘No, you don’t. Liar.’ A voice said inside her head.

Once Y/N had finished eating at light speed, she threw on a pair of baggy jeans and a cropped sweatshirt. She grabbed her coffee and carried it through the hallway.

She heard typing coming from Bruce’s office. He hadn’t used the room since she starting stay at the manor. So, her curiosity got the best of her and she leaned into the doorframe.

Bruce was wearing a navy polo that fit tight on his toned body. He was behind the desk, typing on the computer with his brow folded in concentration.  

He immediately noticed her presence and looked up from his work.

“Hi,” she said shyly before she leaned her back into the doorframe and took a sip of coffee.

“Hi,” he smiled back.

“Thank you for the breakfast.”

Bruce leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. “I can’t take credit for the actual cooking,” he admitted with a smirk.

“Oh, I know.” Then she looked around the study. “I was on my way to the cave when I heard you in here.”

Bruce frowned at that. “I thought you were going to take the day off.”

“I think you thought I was taking the day off.” Then she raised an eyebrow and glanced at all the work spread out on his desk. “Maybe you should take a break.”

“This is Wayne Enterprises, not my…nighttime…activities.”

Y/N shrugged and sipped more coffee. “Still work.”

Bruce rubbed his face. “Guess so.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” Y/N walked into the room and didn’t break eye contact. “If you take the day off, so will I.”

She expected Bruce to immediately shoot down her offer.

But he was smirking as he considered her proposition.

“Deal,” he told her before standing up and walking out from behind the desk.

He got unnecessarily close, invading her space.

Bruce held out his hand.

Y/N grinned at the formal gesture, but shook his hand.

But when their hands gripped together, the gesture no longer felt formal. It felt intimate. Y/N’s grin fell when she acknowledged it.

“What did you have in mind?” Bruce asked. He put his hands in the pockets of his slacks.

If he felt the same intimacy as she had, he didn’t show it.

Y/N cleared her throat. “How about something simple? Maybe a walk?”

Bruce nodded slowly. “A walk sounds good.”  

“Well, then what are we waiting for?” Y/N sassed.

He shook his head and almost rolled his eyes before gesturing to the door, silently telling her to go first.

Next thing Y/N knew, she was getting an informal tour of the grounds at Wayne Manor from the owner himself.

Y/N listened closely, genuinely finding all the history interesting. Bruce was surprisingly a good storyteller – even if he was more informative than colorful.

“I know you had a hard childhood. But it still must’ve been nice growing up in a place like this,” Y/N tried to tell him.

“I suppose so.”

He glanced at Y/N and found her giving him an encouraging look, as if she was silently begging him to say more, to share more.

But he left it at that.

“Damian is rather fond of animals. That’s why we updated the old outbuilding. He keeps his horses there…amongst other things.”

Y/N chuckled and nodded, “He was telling me about Batcow the other day.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate me telling you this, but I think Damian has enjoyed having you around – all the boys have.”

Y/N hummed and turned to fully face Bruce. “And what about you? Have you enjoyed having me around?”

“Wayne Manor is the safest place for you right now.”

“That’s not what I asked, Bruce.”

But he already knew that.

Y/N waited. Because she wasn’t going to let him ignore her question.

“Dick has taken quite a liking to you,” Bruce said quietly.

“Don’t change the subject,” Y/N snapped.

He opened his mouth to continue, but she cut him off.

“We’re not talking about me and Dick. We’re talking about me and you.”

Bruce’s jaw tightened.

Y/n took a step closer to him. “Why did you kiss me the other night?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Did you not want me to?”

“What does it matter?” Y/N sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I want to know what you’re thinking. I thought I put up walls. But you give me nothing, Bruce. Absolutely nothing. One second I think you see me as a nuisance, then the next you’re fucking kissing me.”

“You’re not a nuisance.”

“Oh, he speaks!” Y/N threw up her arms.  

“What do you want me to say, Y/N?” He asked evenly.

Always calm and collected. Overly polite. Controlled. Closed off.

“Forget it,” Y/N breathed and started walking back to the manor.

But after she was a few yards away, she realized she wanted to say one last thing and turned back around.

“Not that it matters. But I did. I did want you to kiss me.”

“Then why did you run away?” Bruce asked.

“Because I knew you would do it eventually. And I was trying to protect myself.”

-

So much for a “day off.” When Y/N was upset, she turned to her work to take her mind off of things. Was it denial? Was it displacement? She didn’t like to dwell on it. And most of the time, there was no one in her life to call her out for it.

Y/N thought she was emotionally distant, but Bruce won that race by a landslide. And she found it infuriating.

It was interactions like the one she just had that made Y/N think everything Dick tried to tell her about how Bruce saw her was utter bullshit.

Y/N arrived to the cave with an energy she was definitely not expecting.

Damian and Dick were training on the lower level while Tim and Jason observed from the sides.

Y/N had seen footage of each of them fighting before. It was one of the research pieces she’d watched while investigating them before figuring out their identities. But seeing it in person was a completely different experience.

Dick was using his escrima sticks,  while Damian had his katana.

Jason noticed her arrival and made his way over with a smirk.

“Was wondering when you’d wake up,” he greeted.

“Please tell me that’s a sword for training and not an actual blade,” Y/N asked nervously while her eyes followed the two dancing around each other. She could even hear the blade slicing through the air.

“Don’t worry. They won’t seriously hurt each other.” He had a little side smirk. “Especially since Dick is Damian’s favorite.”

Y/N looked at Jason. “I always assumed Bruce was his favorite.”

He shrugged. “Dick’s been a father to Damian far more than Bruce ever has.”

She didn’t have anything to say to that. It caught her by surprise a bit.

“Can you fight?” Jason asked her.

Her eyes widened. “No. I don’t know how to do…anything. I did one of those boxing workout classes. I hated it. All the instructors are male models, and that’s their side hustle.”

“I can assure you that was not boxing,” Jason laughed. “Why haven’t asked one of us?”  

Y/N shrugged. “Seems like a waste of your time.”

“No, it sounds like a fun time,” Jason corrected.

She laughed at that.

They both watched the two again.

A few moments went by before Y/N quietly added, “I have a gun. I don’t really know how to use it. But I thought it was necessary with my…line of work.”

Jason nodded slowly. “These pansies have a certain aversion to guns.” He looked down at her. “If you need me to show you a few basics, let me know.”

Y/N quickly looked at him. “T-Thank you.”

He laughed. “Don’t look so surprised.”

Jason Todd may have been labeled an anti-hero or even a criminal at one point. But deep down, he was still a Wayne. And even though he had the reputation of the bad boy, they all knew he was a sweetheart deep down. However, Y/N was now just seeing it.

Y/N jumped when Damian was slammed to the ground.

“Jesus,” she hissed.

“He’s fine,” Jason insisted.

But then he leaned closer and started pointing out certain moves to her. 

“With Dick’s gymnastics background, he incorporates a lot more acrobatics and moves that require more flexibility. He’s good at improvisation. He also leans more toward taekwondo. But with his escrima sticks, he also uses arnis.”

He looked down to make sure he wasn’t boring Y/N before he continued.

“He almost moves like a dancer,” she thought aloud, proving she was interested and engaged.

“Exactly,” he nodded. “Whereas Damian is still a kid. It’s less about power and more about agility. Before he got here, he was trained to kill. He’s mastered the sword better than any of us – but don’t tell him I said that. Damian’s had to adjust his technique and turn it non-lethal.” He smirked, “Just think devil ninja and that pretty much sums it up.”

Y/N laughed.

“And Tim?” She asked.

“Tim leans towards Kobudo, which is an ancient style developed by the Japanese. He prefers to use a battle staff. He’s smaller, so his technique is very calculated and controlled. Every move he makes counts for something. He’s extremely observant and can read his opponents like a book. Dick tries to create his openings, while Tim waits for the exact right moment.”

“Smart,” Y/N commented.

Jason nodded in agreement.

She turned back to him. “And you? What’s your style?”

“Brutal,” a voice said behind them.

Y/N whipped around to see Bruce standing behind them with his arms crossed. He’d changed, and was now wearing a tank top and sweatpants. Clearly he came down with the intention to train as well.

Jason didn’t seem surprised nor did he acknowledge him, meaning he probably knew the moment Bruce had arrived. He just didn’t care to notice him outwardly.

“Wing chun. Heavy-weight boxing. Krav Maga,” Bruce continued as if he was just listing of stats. “Angry…” he shrugged, “sometimes reckless.”

Jason scoffed at that.

“And he can’t seem to get over his complex for guns,” Bruce finished.

Jason turned to him. He was just an inch or so taller than Bruce. But he looked like he was twice the width and his muscles were somehow even bigger.

“Should we give her a show, B?” Jason offered with amusement.

“We’re not a spectacle, Jason.”

Jason looked down to Y/N. “Such a party pooper this one.”

She smirked at his sass. Bruce was not in her good graces right now, so she would support any and all mocking of him.

Y/N hadn’t even looked at Bruce since he arrived. And now she was choosing it as a perfect time to finally make her way to her computers and away from him.

Jason didn’t miss the cold shoulder. “What did you do to piss off yet another woman?”

Bruce glared at him, and walked down to the training area with the boys.

Jason followed after him. 

He looked back and forth between Bruce and up at Y/N, a plan developing in his head.

“$100 bucks Bruce can lay out Dick in two minutes,” Jason said loud enough that Y/N could hear him.

Tim and Damian shared a smirk.

Bruce and Dick glared at him.

“I’m not betting against that,” Damian announced.

Tim smiled. “But I will.”

Dick shook his head in submission, “Fine.”

Bruce needed the practice, even though he was aware Jason had ulterior motives with his request. So he just gave Dick a look of consent.

Y/N tried to ignore what was happening, even though Jason made it very clear for her. She heard the sound of fists and feet hitting skin. He heard their grunts of pain and exertion.

It wasn’t until she heard Dick torment Bruce with, “Come on, old man,” that Y/N couldn’t help but turn to watch them below the platform she worked on.

Dick’s teasing worked, but not in his favor.

Bruce no longer took it easy on him. Maybe that’s what Dick wanted, but he was now on the defense.

They were fighting hand to hand. No escrima sticks or gadgets. Just hand-to-hand combat.

Y/N could tell the that Dick was starting to get frustrated. 

Bruce, however, seemed completely calm. He knew all of the boys’ fighting styles and taught them the majority of what they knew. There was a part of Bruce in all of them. It almost made for an unfair fight. 

Their movements got faster and faster. Y/N was struggling to figure out what was even happening anymore.

But just when she was about to give up her observing and get back to work, Bruce managed to get a proper grip on Dick and flipped him over his shoulder.

Dick landed on his back hard. So hard, that Y/N heard the smack and the sound alone made her feel sick.

Y/N gasped, and put a hand in her mouth when the sound came out louder than she expected.

Jason, Tim, Damian, and even Dick glanced up at her.

But Bruce was staring down at his opponent.

“Your weight placement was off and you know how to get out of that hold,” Bruce lectured. “You know better.”

Dick glared up at him.

Bruce offered him a hand up, but Dick ignored it.

“I know,” Dick growled as he got to his feet.

“You’re letting yourself get frustrated. It’s causing your mistakes.”

“I said I know,” Dick snapped louder this time.

Before an argument could really start, Alfred made his presence known by clearing his throat.

All the boys looked up at him, as well. 

“What is it?” Bruce asked.

“I was rather certain you’d forgotten. Seems I was right.” Alfred cleared his throat. “I came to remind you all that the annual gala for the Martha Foundation is tomorrow night at the manor.”

“Can’t we reschedule it,” Damian whined.

Bruce shook his head. “The Court of Owls is made of Gotham’s elite – many of who are invited. If we cancel, it will cause suspicion.”

“You can’t honestly think we should risk that with Y/N being here,” Dick called out, gesturing up towards Y/N.

Bruce and Dick had a silent conversation.

Y/N knew it was about her, so she did not appreciate being excluded.

“Oh, wow. Looks like one of my safe houses is finally more secure than this place,” Y/N spoke up melodramatically.

But she should’ve known it wasn’t going to be that easy to escape.

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

Next chapter is gonna be fun, guys. 😈 But let me know what you thought of this one. 

[life-with-my-three]

I really thought I had dealt with the majority of the trauma from Harriet (and Fletcher’s) births. I have retold, particularly Hatt’s, so many times and retell it joking and laughing. I definitely know now that I had just completely dissociated myself from the emotions, not dealt with it.

Yesterday was a full week in hospital. I was coping, and then all of a sudden the girl in the bed next to me (2 bed room) was being prepped for an emergency C-section, had the neonatologists come in and discuss odds of 32 weekers (which Fletch was; a comment was very, very rarely 32 weekers need intubation. Fletch of course was that very, very rare case) and just the whole chaos that erupts during those times.

I was just boxed in, in the curtains, which is completely fine, she needed the attention and this wasn’t about me. It was so much more important she got the care than take away from her situation. I laid there trying so hard to block out the noise and the voices. The preop procedures. The hectic happening.

I just cried and cried. Then they wheeled her off to theatre and I just broke down. I started throwing all my belongings into bags, whilst sobbing and hyperventilating. I couldn’t be there. I didn’t want to be there. I NEEDED to not be there!

Aaron chose this moment to walk in for a visit. A midwife comes in as they’re trying to talk me off the ledge. Just crying and saying I can’t be there. I can’t handle the noises anymore. I can’t handle watching another baby of mine almost die.

They finally managed to talk me down long enough that I went down to the cafeteria and the quiet patient lounge where the noise wasn’t there, but I hadn’t left. Came back up and the patient was back from her C-section, and I went into full panic attack again because a student came in wanting to do my blood pressure. Being trapped in birth trauma when a lot focuses around BP and then wanting to inflate the cuff on my arm sent anxiety off again. I’d been having BPs done all week. No problem. Apparently PTSD around birth trauma doesn’t care on what you can normally handle in certain situations.

They were trying to get the doctors but it was going to be at least half an hour so we went back down to the quite patient lounge and had a cold drink and recentred.

We got back to the ward again after an hour and they wanted me to stay the night no matter what’s they were going to try and get a private room for me away from everything but couldn’t guarantee it. I was hysterical. Eventually enough had been stabilised that they ended up saying I could go home for the night, stay admitted, as long as I was back by 7am. I didn’t get home until 7pm, and had to leave again at 5am. My brain completely needed that reset though.

I was completely expecting to go back into the double room, and although I had anxiety over yesterday the reset of being home away from the hospital made me feel I could handle it. The midwives and doctors were phenomenal. I apologised so many times for my outburst yesterday. I was and am completely embarrassed. When I had got back this morning, they had legit found the quietest single room away from all the noise of the ward and set it up for me.

Hopefully today is just a day of tying up loose ends with tests they want done and then I can be discharged. With a lot of monitoring, but discharged.

[tricksters-captain]

Benny Watts/The Queens Gambit imagines - From Pawn to Pen Part 3

AN: Okay so I know things are going a little slow paced at the moment but I promise things will start to pick up over the next few chapters. 

Overall Summary: You’re a young journalist for Chess Review, with a love for chess and a desire for knowledge. One day at a tournament, you come across the famous Benny Watts...

In this chapter: It’s the last day of the tournament and Benny feels bad about what happened the previous night 

(PART 1) (PART 2)

Pairing(s): Benny Watts x Fem!reader

Word Count: 3,493

Warnings: Some unwanted touching here at the beginning in italics, some drinking, none really

A hand glided up from your knee along your thigh. The fingers felt rough against your skin and your stomach twisted into a knot as the touch went further up your leg. You tried to move your leg away but his fingers dug into your skin keeping you there. 

“Don’t play hard to get now...” 

You gasped loudly as you shot up from your pillow. The cold air hit your lungs like a flood as you struggled to catch your breath. 

It was 5am. 

You were covered in sweat.

You stared into the darkness ahead of you, eyes wide open with any feeling of tiredness gone. 

Your hands shook as you reached for the light switch, turning it on before jumping out of your bed to open the curtains. 

The sun was barely rising outside. 

Your nightie clung to you awkwardly due to the sweat so you headed into the bathroom, stripping of it. 

You didn’t look in the mirror as you turned on the shower. You hated the way you looked after the dreams. You always looked like a ghost. 

Not that you had had the dreams for a while now. 

You took your time in the shower, you had brought your portable radio into the bathroom so you weren’t left alone with your own thoughts.

You hummed quietly to the songs that played on the early morning station; you closed your eyes and tried to picture that you were showering in your old apartment in France with Angelie making morning coffee and croissants in the kitchen.

It brought you some sense of calm. 

When you finished in the bathroom, the sun was rising. You took a moment to admire the colours in the sky before sitting down at your dresser to apply some make up and dry your hair. 

As your eyes found your reflection, you sighed. You reached across for one of your powders and a brush before turning the music up to stop thinking about the day ahead. 

It was early enough for you to be one of the first in the restaurant for breakfast and so you found yourself nibbling on bagel with some coffee in your other hand. 

It was the last day of the tournament. 

Benny Watts vs Victor Miesser. 

Once you grew tired of picking at the bagel you went ahead to the games room where only one table was set up ready for the final match in the afternoon. 

You looked down at the board, picking up the white queen which you knew would be Benny’s later. 

“Don’t be tampering with my chess pieces because I pissed you off last night.” 

“Little early for you, Mr Watts?” You didn’t even need to turn to know who had come in. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” He admitted, walking up beside you to look down at the board himself. “Found myself thinking what an ass move it was to just burst into somebody’s hotel room and start rummaging through their private belongings.” 

“Oh really?” You raised your eyebrows, smiling a little at his attempted apology. 

“Really.” Benny nodded, “So, I figured I’d find the girl I so rudely vexed and apologise.” Benny sent you a side glance which you returned.

“Apology accepted on the conditions that he doesn’t do it again and agrees to a photograph for the magazine.” You felt as if you should apologise too for the way you handled it the previous night but you fought against it, he was the one in the wrong after all. 

“Conditions accepted.” Benny held out his hand and you waited a second, smiling, before you took it. 

“Perfect.” You dug into your bag and pulled out your camera. “If you could sit down? Now would be the perfect time for a photograph since no one is around to distract you.”

“Distract me? What’s that supposed to mean?” Benny furrowed his eyebrows at you, chuckling as he sat himself down. 

You rolled your eyes at the man and decided not to answer as you checked the lighting for the photo. 

“I’m sure you’ve done plenty of shoots before so if you could just relax the shoulders a little and look at the camera as you sit beside the board.” You directed him as he shifted in his seat. 

“Like this?” Benny asked with a smirk as he rested his elbow on the table beside the board. 

You took the photo. 

“Now look down at the board like you’re focusing on a hard game.” You tried to ignore his playful tone as you photographed him. 

Benny switched to link his fingers below his chin and stare down at the board. 

“Great.” You stepped forward and lifted the brim of his hat slightly your with finger. Benny’s eyes looked up as you did. “Sorry.” You muttered before stepping away again. 

“One more if you don’t mind.” You asked as you picked up the queen. 

“If you just prop your feet up on the corner of the table and lean back into your chair.” You gestured to the table and Benny did as he was told. “Now, hold this and look at it like this.” 

You held the chess piece with your thumb and index finger above your head so it was tilted. Benny seemed to smirk again as he took the piece from you to copy the pose. 

You snapped a few more shots before allowing him to relax. 

“Thank you. It’s more likely I’ll get the first few pages if I have a decent photo to go with the piece.” You explained, tucking the camera away. 

“And here I thought I’d make the cover.” Benny stood up from his seat, straightening his jacket. 

“I can’t make any promises I’m afraid. This’ll be the biggest piece the magazine has allowed me to write yet.” You confessed, pulling out your notepad and pen. 

“You're telling me you left Paris of all places to write pity pieces and small town coverage for Chess Review?” Benny raised his eyebrows at you, seemingly surprised at your decision. 

“I’ll work my way up eventually. I always do.” You shrugged your shoulders, paying no mind to his judgement.

“I don’t doubt it.” Benny replied. 

“I saw you in Paris last year, you know.” You tried changing the topic onto him so you could try and get some more questions in for the interview. 

“Really?” Benny asked, 

“I mean I wasn’t paying too much attention to you since I was writing a headline piece on Borgov but I saw you. No one can stick out like sore thumb in aa chess tournament quite like Benny Watts.” You admitted. 

“I’ll try and take that as a compliment.” Benny laughed lightly as he fiddled with the top of the chair he was leaning on. 

“Well you are constantly praised for you twist on the ‘regular’ chess player with your style and your hair and your knife...” You couldn’t help but point to the holster on his hip. 

“What’s wrong with that?” He asked, looking down at his knife then back up at you.

“Nothing.” You shook your head. “I was wondering Mr Watts since I have you here now, we could finish off that interview?”

You watched Benny check his watch before taking a minute to decide. 

“Alright but only if we go someplace else. It’s too stuffy in here.” Benny agreed, pushing off the back of the chair and walking towards the exit. 

“Outside?” You suggested. 

You both walked side by side outside the hotel then down into some gardens where you found an old small concrete bench to perch on. 

“Shall we continue from where we started?” You asked, getting your prepared questions out. “Ready?”

“Ready.” 

“Mr Watts, you recently stated you were here because of Beth Harmon. When was it she first caught your eye as a potential competitor?” You asked, 

“I guess it was just like everyone else. Once it got out that she defeated Beltik at such a young age and at her very first tournament, I think she grabbed everyone’s eye in the chess world.” He admitted, looking out across the green as he spoke. 

“Do you believe she could beat you for your US title?” 

“I think we’ll have to see how it plays out when I finally get to play her.” Benny seemingly almost found the question amusing.

“Where are you playing next? Do you know?” You crossed off questions you’d already asked before as you spoke. 

“I try not to play too many opens nowadays but I like the practise. The US open will roll around again soon which I’ll be heading too. I tend to go to events where I’ve been invited or I feel like attending. It’s not necessarily planned.” Benny held out his arm, pushing straight line with hand to signal him looking into the future. 

“And what about Europe?” 

“I like playing in Europe. I get invited from time to time but the jet lag really gets me sometimes.” Benny started, “Off the record, how come I haven’t seen you in Paris before if you’d seen me?”

The question took you back for a moment as the flow was now interrupted. 

“There’s a lot of reporters in Paris, Mr Watts. It’s no surprise to me that you didn’t notice me.”

“It is to me.” Benny towards you, leaning on his hand with his finger on his chin.

“A girl can be easily hidden in a crowd full of men, Mr Watts.” You felt your heart start to race as Benny stared at you. 

“Anyway, back to the questions...” You tried to shake it off. “Is there anyone in your life at the moment, Mr Watts? Someone else you like to play chess with?” You almost cringed at the question but you knew the female readers would eat it up. 

“Are you asking for you or for the magazine?” Benny smirked. 

You sent him a look which only made him laugh. 

“No, there’s no one at the moment. Only a few of the guys in New York who like to play speed chess with me just to lose their money.” Benny’s joke made you roll your eyes but he could tell it was lighthearted. 

“And final question, Mr Watts, how does it feel being the undefeated champion in the United States?” 

“It feels great. But I’m looking forward to some new competition. You can only play Victor Miesser so many times.” Benny took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. His blond locks moved with his fingers and a small strand fell back down to his eye.

“Be careful what you wish for, Watts.” You let it slip out as you watched the man.

Benny started to laugh again. 

“I didn’t–––” You went to apologise when he cut you short. 

“––It’s true. One day someone will probably beat me.” 

You closed your notepad and tucked your pen away as you nodded your head, not knowing how else to respond. 

“What are you doing after the tournament?” Benny asked you. 

“I’ll probably stay here in the hotel for a couple of days, get the final draft written then typed up then sent off to the magazine along with the photos. By then they should have another spot for me to travel to and if not then I’ll return to my flat in Massachusetts. My recent tenant just moved out so I actually could stay there for once.” You explained, hooking the hair out of your face as the wind picked up. 

“Massachusetts?” Benny cocked his eyebrow. 

“Yeah. I bought the flat just before I decided to leave the US, rented it out during the years I was in Paris. I had someone new living there for the past 5 months but they recently moved out. I’m never usually there so...”

“Why Massachusetts though?” Benny folded his arms over his chest and crossed his ankles as he leant back.

“My Mom grew up in Greenfield, Massachusetts. She always loved the countryside, the forests when it was fall were her favourite anywhere we went really. I live in Boston though, Greenfield was a bit too small town for me.” You explained, smiling as a memory resurfaced of your mother diving into a pile of yellow, auburn and brown leaves. 

“You know Boston isn’t that far from New York. If you change your mind about that chess game, I don’t hate the idea of company?” Benny suggested, his eyes searching your face for an answer. 

“I don’t think so, Benny.” You rose from the bench and smiled down at the man. 

Benny smirked at the use of his name instead of ‘Mr Watts’. 

“Good luck for this afternoon. Perhaps I’ll see you at another tournament soon.” You dismissed yourself before Benny could try and persuade you to come to New York with him. 

You spent the rest of the morning sorting your notes together and clearing up your hotel room before the afternoon game went ahead. 

You had taken your film to be developed whilst you were watching the game so it’d be ready in the evening.

You watched Benny dominate Miesser in less than 20 moves and then you watched Miesser strut off in a strop. Another loss to the Benny Watts.

You were amused by the fact that Benny didn’t even seem to break a sweat or show a single crease in his forehead. He really did find it all too easy, didn’t he?

You applauded with the rest of the onlookers before disappearing to take your notes on the game upstairs to write it up again in short form so the readers could see the game through the piece. 

You went ahead to pick up the prints before dinner and you were impressed with your own photography skills. 

Benny was extremely photogenic there was no lie in that and you couldn’t help but admire the photographs due to your own skill and his attractiveness. 

You put the photos up in your room along with the pages you had before heading for some food. 

You were famished and you knew the restaurant would be quieter due to the tournament ending that day. 

“Miss (Y/L/N)?” One of the hosts approached you as you neared the restaurant entrance. 

“Yes?” You replied. 

“Mr Benny Watts has requested you join him for dinner.” He guided his hand towards one of the back tables where Benny was sat alone for once.

You were hesitant to join him but once he had spotted you there was no turning back. 

“Mr Watts?” You greeted him, still confused by his invitation. 

“(Y/n).” He stood when you approached the table which was something you hadn’t expected him to do. “I felt like my apology earlier wasn’t exactly a great one so I figured dinner would be a good alternative.” 

“You really didn’t have to...” You started, sitting down opposite him. 

“How’s the article coming along?” He ignored your objections as he too sat back down.

“Fine.” You stated. 

“Just fine?” Benny smirked, looking up at you from the menu in front of him. 

“Yes.” You said as you picked up your own. 

There was a silence. 

“How old were you when you first played Chess?” Benny asked out of the blue. 

“Five.” You told him. “I wouldn’t say I was any good. My father taught me but I know I first picked up the pieces when I was five.” 

“And how old were you when you decided you weren’t good enough?” Benny’s words felt like ice to your warm cheek.

“Seventeen.” You told him honestly. 

“Seventeen.” Benny repeated what you had said. “Seventeen is awfully young to be deciding you weren’t good enough.” 

“I had been playing years by then–––”

“––It sounds like you gave up to early.” Benny folded his hands together as he placed his elbows on the table. 

“Are we going to discuss my playing chess all evening or shall I just eat elsewhere?” You were tired of the constant questions. This man didn’t know you. You didn’t need to explain yourself to him. 

“Sorry.” Benny held his hands out almost in surrender. “So, Boston?”

“Or discuss me being close enough to visit New York to play chess with you.”

Benny chuckled quietly. 

“What is it about me, Benny Watts?” You asked him honestly. Why was he so interested in your chess playing after one weekend of knowing each other?

“I don’t know.” Benny confessed, “Curiosity, I guess.”

“Well, Mr Watts...” You sipped on the cocktail just put in front of you, “...Curiosity killed the cat.”

“Maybe it’s the fact you’re one of the first girl reporters I’ve seen cover Chess before.”

“I am the only one employed at Chess Review.” You didn’t know why you told him that but you did. “Journalism is a more cut throat industry than you’d expect, Mr Watts.”

“I could say the same thing about Chess but being a reporter you already know that.” Benny leant back in his chair now, waving over a waiter so you could finally order some food.

“I know too well.” You chuckled weakly. 

You both ordered some food and you let Benny talk about himself which he did with ease. 

He mainly spoke about Chess openings, ones he favoured, ones he disliked, who he had read recently and what changes he had made to his play over the past couple tournaments. 

You were thankful he didn’t try interrogating you again.

After you finished eating you left the restaurant together. 

“Me and some others who are still here for the night are gonna have a few beers and play some speed chess, wanna join?” Benny asked, pointing behind him to the bar area. 

You went to open your mouth when Benny stopped you. 

“And before you say anything, no you don’t have to play, you can just watch.” 

“Tempting.” You admitted. 

“Then say yes?” Benny urged you, already taking a step backwards towards the bar. 

“Are you always this pushy, Benny?” You couldn’t help but let a smile cross your lips. 

“Uh, yep.” Benny bit down on lower lip, his hands on his hips as he answered.

“One drink.” You gave in, following the man into bar where a table of speed chess was already being played. 

When Benny approached the table, one of the seats freed up for him and Benny offered you a seat beside the table so you could spectate. 

You ordered yourself a drink and took it with you to the table so you could drink and watch. 

You were immediately mesmerised by the speed the players could go and within mere minutes Benny had won his first round, taking five dollars off his opponent. 

“You know, Benny, you might want to take it easy or people won’t actually want to play you anymore.” You told him with a smirk on your face that made him smile. 

You stayed longer than you expected to. One drink turned into three or four and it was late by the time Benny ran out of opponents. 

Benny walked with you to the elevator then up to the floor you were both on. 

You were tired and the alcohol had given you a warm buzz. You leant against the wall of the elevator with your eyes closed and a sleep smile on your face. 

“Come on, it’s our floor.” Benny held out his arm and you wrapped your hand around his bicep to help you out of the elevator.

He walked you up to your hotel room door and you found your key to go inside.

“Night Benny.” You murmured as you stepped into your room. 

Benny leant in the door way, his hand gripping the pane above him as he watched you walk over to your bed. 

“Goodnight Miss (Y/L/N).” And with that, he leant in to take the doorknob and closed the door. 

When you woke up in the morning you weren’t in your nightie but your underwear. You must've just stripped last night because you were so tired. 

You heard a knock on your door but you groaned and rolled over onto your stomach. Covering your head with your pillow. 

There was another knock. 

You waited a second, gaining the energy to stand. 

You slid on your robe and trudged over to the door. 

You opened it to see no one outside but down by your feet was a stack of three books with a note on top of them. 

You picked them up and opened the folded bit of paper. 

I’m going back to New York. Read these then call me. – B.W.

You looked through the books he had given you and the one right on the top was his own. You shook your head smiling down at the boy on the cover. 

You peered forward, looking down the corridor to see no one but the housekeepers. 

You stepped back inside and reread the note.

Call me – B.W. 

(PART 4 HERE)

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[whitelacepants]

Title: Unconditional

Word count: 1,212

Pairing: Percy/Nico

Summary: Nico comforts Percy after he and Annabeth break up.

hey there! i tried a more formal approach this time with like, a title n everything lol. but yeah, this is part 2! sorry it took so long, lost motivation for a second there. but it's almoat 5am and i finally finished this damn thing. sorry if the spacing is fucked, tumblr is weird. I'll probably post these on ao3 once i figure out how to do that. but yeah, anyways, have fun reading, let me know what you think!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I didn't think you'd be up. Thanks for being here."

Nico hums in acknowledgement. Percy wraps his arms tighter around Nico's waist as he runs his fingers through Percy's hair in a comforting gesture. The legs surrounding Percy's body are warm from how long he'd been lying between them, thin and more muscular than what he's used to but still comfortable. Their relationship has evolved from one of friendship to an agonizing balance on the line of something not quite platonic but not quite romantic.

They're in Percy's cabin, back at Camp Half-Blood for a couple weeks to help get a few new demigods settled in, per Chiron's request. It's been a few weeks since the...incident, between Nico and Annabeth, and the aftermath has taken it's toll on both of them, Percy the most.

~~~~~

"Percy, what's going on?"

"...I wanna break up."

A silent room.

"Where is this even coming from? I've given you everything you needed!"

"No, Annabeth, you've given yourself everything that you needed."

"That's insane! I've been there for you ever since you showed up in this damn camp."

"Yeah, you've been there to insult me every step of the way, and you thought kissing it better would make it hurt less."

A raised voice.

"You've changed since we came back from...from Tartarus."

"Yeah, a place like that'll change a person."

"No. No, no, no, this isn't about that. No, this is about Nico, isn't it? Fuck! I knew I should've kept an eye on him. He's been all over you ever since he came out!"

"He has not! Shit, I thought you supported him!"

"I do! Just not when he's trying to steal my boyfriend!"

"He hasn't stolen anything, Annabeth! You lost me!"

Shattered glass.

"Percy. Percy wait-"

"I'm leaving, get off me."

"Wait! P-Please wait, we can- I can fix this, just wait-!"

"Goodbye, Annabeth."

"Wait, I just need-, I need time to think!"

"For fucks sake, you can't think your way out of this."

"No, please! I can-, I can fix this, I can fix you!"

Splintered wood.

"I never needed to be fixed. I needed to be accepted."

Locked door.

~~~~~

Percy heaves a heavy sigh. He speaks again, slightly muffled into the hip of the boy he's holding.

Well, man now, Percy thinks.

"You...I don't know why, but you make me feel safe."

Nico chuckles at that, light and airy. The 3am delirium must be getting to him.

"You just broke up with your girlfriend of, what was it? 5...6 years? And I'm the only one that's 100% on your side, of course you feel safe with me." Nico dissolves back into giggles at that and Percy soon joins him.

"No no no! It's differennnt!" he says, chest rumbling with giddiness.

"How is it 'differennnt'?" Nico mocks in a lower voice, and they both laugh at his poor impression until they're gasping for breath. 

"I do not talk like that-!"

"You totally do."

As their laughter fizzles out, they feel more than listen to each other's breathing even out. Nico goes back to stroking Percy's hair, crown to nape, lightly scratching from time to time.

"Seriously though," Nico says,"how is it different?"

The night is quiet, save for the stray harpy screech or the crash of waves against a shore, and Nico waits patiently for Percy to answer him.

"I just…," Percy starts, and Nico listens.

I never feel like I have to hide from you. When I'm with you, I don't feel like I have to cater to this idealistic version of myself that everyone seems to have created in their heads. To you, I'm not "Perseus Jackson, Son of Poseidon, Hero & Saviour of Olympus". I'm Just Percy.

"With you, I feel raw," he says, his throat tight. Nico starts to shift but Percy holds him tighter.

"Hey, hey, I'm not going anywhere, just let me…" Percy's arms give a little and Nico moves further down the bed so that his upper back is supported by the pillows behind him as he cradles Percy's head to his chest. Percy takes a deep breath and when he lets it go, it's shuddering rhythm moves through the both of them like thunder in a storm.

"I just, I can't keep faking everything, you know? I can't keep pretending like I haven't been affected by the shit I've gone through. It's like half the camp sees me as some great hero who can do no wrong, and the other half expects me to be this-, this stupid jokester that's completely clueless to serious situations and it's so infuriating," he says,"especially with Annabeth. I've had to put on this mask of indifference for nearly 4 years since we got out. I've hidden almost every genuine emotion I've had. I can't do it anymore." he finishes with a huff, and with a start, Nico realizes that the front of his shirt is soaked through with tears.

Curse Percy for being a silent crier.

"Aw, mio tesoro, look at me," Nico says. He gently guides Percy's face up, cupping his cheeks and lightly brushing away the steadily falling tears. They make eye contact, bright green against deep brown, looking into each other's souls.

"You will never have to hide your true self from me."

A dam seems to break inside of Percy as his tears start falling faster. Nico just holds him, tries to sooth him as best as he can. Sometimes that's all you can do, Nico knows that. So he strokes his hair and waits.

After what feels like hours, Percy calms down. His eyes have dried up and he lets out a sniffle every few minutes.

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't worry about it," Nico says,"I never liked this shirt anyways."

"What? No, no, not for crying on you," Percy moves to look at Nico's soft smile, tightening his arms around him as if he was afraid Nico would disappear.

"I'm sorry I can't be what you want me to be right now."

Nico's hand falters for a second before picking back up. 

"What do you wanna be?"

"I-"

Yours, Percy thinks. But I don't know if I deserve you yet.

"I don't know. But I don't want you to go."

"Trust me," Nico chuckles,"I'm not going anywhere."

"But, you've waited so long already and-"

"-and I can wait a little longer, love," Nico says. "I don't wanna force anything on you, ok? If you want more of a relationship than we have right now then that's cool. But it has to be something you genuinely want. Don't focus on me. Focus on yourself."

Percy is speechless. Not for the first time, he wonders how Nico can be so young yet so wise.

Lots of emotional pain, probably, his mind supplies. He doesn't want to think about who or what might've caused that so instead, he snuggles his face back into Nico's ruined shirt, dryer than it was before.

"Thank you," he says into Nico's chest.

"Anytime."

Nico cradles his head, and as they drift off to sleep, Percy lets himself be relieved that he can trust Nico with the knowledge of every single piece of him, and can let the layers upon layers of mask and shadow be peeled away like a roselily in bloom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tag list: @readwithlivvy @darkastcookies

(also, constructive criticism on this is totally cool, i feel like i didnt do a good job on this one lol)

[haikyuuuuuhypeeeee]

Ch. Fourteen

⚠WARNING: Swearing

• ────── ✾ ────── •

Waking up is painful. Physically painful, at least. You’re not ready to deal with the emotional pain from yesterday, no thank you.

You finally peel your eyes open, a true struggle considering how they were crusted together. You take in your surroundings and form the first coherent thought of the day.

This isn’t my bedroom.

Your eyes seem to be crusted shut. You sit up and realize that no, this is not your apartment, this is Osamu’s apartment. This is his bed you’re currently sitting up from, his blankets wrapped around you.

You then form your second coherent thought of the day.

His detergent smells really nice.

That thought finishes in your head before it’s slammed aside by the rush of yesterday’s memories - group therapy with your friends and Osamu, Oikawa being a complete dick to Osamu, your argument with Oikawa which resulted in Oikawa blabbing of your love for Hajime, leaving the restaurant crying, realizing you lost your keys but they’re at Osamu’s apartment, walking to Osamu’s crying…

From there it’s a bit murkier as your memories intertwined with self-deprecating thoughts and a line of thinking you rarely walk down anymore.

Last night was a night.

You do somewhat remember Osamu comforting you. Letting you know that it was okay and he was there for you.

You glance around the studio apartment, wondering where he was. Oh god, did you force him out good lord you are -

Oh, no he’s sitting on his couch with a cup of coffee.

You’re filled with guilt when you realize you monopolized his bed and completely took over his apartment. Yeah, he maybe didn’t need to sleep last night (a concept you still don’t fully understand nor approve of) but you have fully overstayed your welcome.

Grabbing your phone from the side table you tap the screen, taking in the notifications on your screen.

Shit, I never messaged Makki or Mattsun.

Your gut feels like lead as you open the group chat with the two. That was a big fuck up on your end.

Fuck, I’m such a shitty friend.

You don’t waste anytime typing out a message.

“Tea?”

You look up from your phone and are greeted with Osamu’s sleepy gaze, a mug of tea held in his hand for you. You reach for the mug, nodding slowly.

“How’re yer feel in’ this morning?” He asks as you take a sip. You shrug in response

“I’m okay. I’m sorry I just fell apart like that on you.” You say. “I wasn’t having a great night, and my emotions just kind of bled all over the place. And I’m sorry that I fell asleep.”

“Yeah, that was actually pretty funny.” Osamu smiles. “Ya just kinda passed out on my shoulder. I had to lift ya to get ya onto the bed.”

You blink, absolutely mortified. “Oh wow, I am so sorry. That’s so embarrassing.”

“Nah, it was cute.” Osamu takes a casual sip from his mug, seemingly oblivious to the flirty line he just dropped. “But ya seemed pretty upset last night, and i wasn’t gonna let ya walk home like that.” The smile drops from his face and he looks at you with concern. “If ya wanna talk about it ya can, although I don’t want to push ya. It’d be pretty dumb of me to.

“I know I’ve been pretty skeptical about openin’ up and talkin’ ‘bout my feelings, but since meetin’ ya I’ve felt better. Lighter, I guess.” He shrugs. “Ya’ve made me realize how important it is to open up.”

You look down at your tea, a small smile tugging at your lips. Your heart warms at Osamu’s words, part of you preening that you were the one who has helped Osamu, but also you feel genuine relief that Osamu wants to open up more.

“Well, let me treat you to breakfast this morning - it’s the least I can do.” You finish your tea and give Osamu a small smile. “I can tell you about yesterday if you don’t mind listening.”

Osamu smiles in return. “Sure, let me grab my stuff.” He takes the mug from your hand and shuffles into the kitchen. You sit up, stretching your arms and grabbing your phone. A few more messages have come through from Mattsun and Makki.

Uhhhhh…….

You open up your chat with Oikawa, finding hundreds of messages from him. He hasn’t sent you anything since 5am. You quickly navigate back to the chat with your other friends.

Frantic knocks, one after another, beat against Osamu’s door.

No way.

Osamu gives you a look before walking to the front door. He checks the paper hole, then turns back and looks at you with faint amusement.

“It’s for ya.”

You stand from the bed, moving into the kitchen. Regretfully, you open the door.

A distressed-looking Oikawa is the surprise visitor. He looks absolutely beside himself - his eyes are bloodshot and swollen, snot is dripping out of his nose, and his hair is messy and lackluster.

Oh dear god.

He bursts into tears when he sees you, but surprisingly doesn’t throw himself at you. He must be learning some boundaries. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Y/N-chan! I was being stupid and petty and I didn’t mean to-”

“Ok, ok c’mon. You’re going to wake up Osamu’s neighbors.” You bring the snivelling, pathetic Oikawa inside, quickly closing the door behind him. You help him get his shoes off, glancing around the Osamu. You spot him at the sink, filling a glass with water. He brings it over, giving Oikawa a nod and silently passing the water to him.

“Thank you Osamu-kun.” Oikawa gratefully takes the water and downs it before handing the empty glass back to an amused Osamu. “I plan on giving you a full apology soon, I promise.”

Osamu huffs a laugh and goes back into the kitchen. He sets the glass in the sink as you lead Oikawa through and into the living room.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper to Osamu. “Do you want me to go?”

“Nah,” Osamu waves his hand. “I’ll get ready for breakfast in the bathroom, and give you guys some space.”

“Thank you, I’ll try to make this quick.”

“Take yer time.” Osamu smiles at you and moves to the bathroom. You turn back to Oikawa, who is watching you with regret painting all over his face.

“I’m sorry I told Makki and Mattsun that you love Hajime.” Oikawa blurts without any bite.

You think you see Osamu flinch out of the corner of your eye but when you look his way you see the bathroom door closing. You look back to Oikawa and sigh.

“Why did you say it then?”

Oikawa heaves a sigh and hangs his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to say to make you not hate me.”

“Oikawa, I don’t hate you.” You join him on the couch, leaning into his side. “Talk to me.”

Oikawa presses back to you and you feel his shoulders move up and down as he takes another deep breath. “I knew that uni classes and volleyball would be really really hard - but as long as we all had each other we would be fine. We smashed through high school together, so this was just another challenge.

“But when Iwa-chan died it changed everything. Obviously.” Oikawa takes a shaky breath. “But I still had you, Mattsun and Makki. I knew that we wouldn’t be the same without Iwa-chan, and classes and volleyball would be hard, but we would be friends.

“I don’t think I knew how hard everything would be. My classes suck, volleyball is a chore, and I miss Iwa-chan.” He sniffles. “I miss him so much. I feel like I don’t know who I am without him. But I had you guys, I always had my friends.

“But Mattsun and Makki are in their own world sometimes, and then you started hanging out with Osamu.” He looks at you, tears shining in his brown eyes. “I know it makes me sound like you can’t have other friends beside me, and I really don’t want to be selfish. But you were spending more time with Osamu and it hit me that you were all growing up and becoming different people.” A few tears track down his face and he sniffs. “I don’t want anything to change, I don’t want Iwa-chan to be dead, I don’t want to be a terrible person.”

Oikawa starts to cry and you don’t hesitate in pulling him into a side hug. He’s not really sobbing but you feel his pain deep in your heart. One of your hands comes up to card gently through his hair.

“I know I’ve been a piece of shit the last few months. And I can tell that you really like Osamu, even though you’ve always loved Iwa-chan. Whenever you talked about him you had this happy and bright look on your face. He makes you feel good, but you love Iwa-chan. You moving on meant change, and I hated that.” Oikawa sniffs. “But bringing Osamu to the group therapy session, which I always thought was our group’s thing, made me realize that you were changing. I was so angry, and your secret just slipped out.”

He takes a watery breath. “Isn’t it awful? I’ve been trying to drag you back down to my level, bring you back down to feel the pain that I feel, all because I’m scared. I’m a terrible, awful friend.”

“Oikawa, have you had time to go to your therapy appointments?” You ask gently.

He doesn’t answer right away, and when he gives the tiniest shake of his head you sigh.

“Honey,” you scold gently. “Why are you not going?”

“School and volleyball have taken up a lot of my time.” Oikawa mumbles, his sentence punctuated with another sniffle. “I’ve skipped so many appointments, and I’m too embarrassed to call.”

You sigh, inwardly shaking your head at your friend’s weak excuse. “I don’t want to tell you what to do, but maybe re-prioritize your responsibilities. Getting back on track with your therapy appointments should take top priority. You can talk through these feelings instead of letting them fester.”

Oikawa doesn’t answer right away, but when he does his voice is small. “But I’d probably have to quit volleyball, and that’s all I have left of Iwa-chan.” You see his hands ball into fists. “I don’t want to lose that.” His breath hitches. “I don’t know what to do.”

You let him cry on your shoulder, giving him the time to get all the tears out. You figure this is the most civil conversation you’ve had since Hajime died. The thought brings you relief but also makes you quite sad.

“You know you’re one of my best friends, right Oikawa?” You ask once he’s calmed down a bit. “You’re a diva and a trainwreck, but you’re my diva and my trainwreck.” He exhales lightly but you’re almost certain it’s in amusement. “No matter what, I’m always going to want the best for you, and I’m always gonna try my best to help you.

“But,” you feel him tense up when you continue. “You have to realize that your behavior the past few months has been really shitty. You’ve treated us all like punching bags - we get it, probably more than a lot of people could. But I’m not gonna let you treat me, or any of our friends, like it anymore.”

“I’ll be good.” Oikawa promises immediately. “I promise, I’ll do better for you and Makki and Mattsun. And me.”

“Good.” You give him a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry for yelling at you last night in the restaurant.”

“You don’t have to apologize at all.” He replies immediately. He yawns before speaking again. “Honestly, I’ve been a piece of shit for months now. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You murur. You both sit on the couch for a while longer as you try to come down from the conversation you just had. You feel like a heavy cloud that’s been floating around your head for months has cleared, and although you know Oikawa won’t magically change overnight you feel better knowing that you’ve had this hard conversation with him. Change starts with communication, and hopefully Oikawa understands now that he has the support to change.

You feel Oikawa leaning against you even further and you look at his face to see his eyes closed and mouth parted open.

“Oikawa, c’mon I don’t want you falling asleep.” You gently push him off you so you can stand and get Oikawa to stand also. His eyes are still closed and he puts nearly all of his body weight onto you.

He must not have slept all night, you think. It’s not uncommon for him to pull all nighters, a habit he picked up in high school watching game tape over and over until the sun came up. But he handles the lack of sleep gracelessly - you could prop him against a door jamb and he’d pass out no problem.

Together you move towards the front door. You’re not going to let him fall asleep here and inconvenience Osamu even more - you’ll take him back to your apartment and maybe try to catch lunch with Osamu. Now you owe him a few meals and unlimited coffee.

“Gotta apologize to Osamu-kun,” Oikawa mumbles when you lean him against the wall.

“Maybe when you’re going to fall asleep standing up, yeah?” You reply, bending down to shove his feet back in his shoes. You hear more mumblings in return but can’t make anything out of them.

As you’re getting your shoes on you hear the bathroom door open and out walks Osamu. He’s dressed and his face is composed into it’s usual blankness. Trusting that Oikawa won’t keel over, you walk over to where Osamu is reaching into his dresser for socks.

“I’m so sorry,” you say. “I have to reschedule breakfast, I have to make sure this idiot won’t sleepwalk into traffic.”

“S’alright. Didja work everything out?” Osamu asks in a measured tone.

“I think so.” Osamu’s not looking at you as he puts on his socks. Your gut twinges with guilt, realizing that he must be upset that you have to cancel breakfast. “But I think I’m gonna take him to my apartment and make sure he sleeps. Do you want to meet up for lunch or something?”

“Can’t.” His short answer makes you blink. “Meetin’ a group on campus for a class project.”

“Oh.” He’s still not meeting your gaze, and you detect a hint of gruffness in his tone. Maybe he’s upset that he has to meet with his group last minute? Or because you basically shoved him into his bathroom while you and Oikawa worked out your issues. “Dinner then? I owe you double now.”

“Probably not.” Osamu stands and gathers a few books and a notebook before shoving them into his backpack. His inability to look at you or hold a full conversation is confusing, but you don’t want to push him.

“Well let’s meet at the coffee shop tomorrow, usual time after morning classes. Sounds good?”

He hums distractedly. Your gut feels heavier and you swallow hard.

“Okay, well I’ll be off now.”

Osamu turns towards you but still doesn’t meet your eyes. “I’ll walk ya out.”

You both make the short walk to the front door. The tension in the room is heavy, unable to lighten even at the sight of Oikawa sleeping standing up. You maneuver your friend while Osamu opens the door for you. It’s a slight struggle walking out of the front door but you manage.

You look back before Osamu can close the door behind you. He’s holding the door knob and staring at the ground. “Let me know if you can do dinner tonight - if not I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You force as much cheeriness into your voice, despite the heavy weight in your chest. Finally Osamu looks at you, giving you a disinterested nod.

He closes the door as you turn to walk away. You look back quickly, catching a crestfallen look on Osamu’s face before the door fully closes.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

A/N: So when I originally thought about this story, I wanted to think about how different people deal with grief. And what I wanted to explore was 1.) is there a limit to how people will grieve? And 2.) can someone grieving push that limit? From the get-go Oikawa has seemingly pushed the limit of what some of you believed, and yet Y/N was still hesitant to call him out. And I loved hearing what everyone had to say about Oikawa - some were willing to give him a pass, and some were NOT happy with him. Now, just because someone is grieving, it does NOT give them a free pass to behave inappropriately or do serious harm to those around them. But I think it’s important to note that what may seem absolutely insane to one person is tolerable to another. And what it comes down to is how the person who is directly affected by another’s actions wants to address those actions (sorry if this is confusing.) Oikawa was treating Y/N and their friends like shit. In the story it was because Oikawa was not taking the necessary actions to keep himself mentally healthy. In Y/N’s eyes, if there is a desire to be better, and appropriate actions are taken to be better, then Oikawa deserves to be forgiven. I have absolutely LOVED reading everyone’s reactions and hearing their opinions on Oikawa’s slowly deteriorating behavior, thank you for sending them in! And just because how Y/N has reacted to Oikawa’s behavior it does not mean there is a right/wrong way! Everyone has different life experiences and different relationships that guide their decision-making! And that’s totally okay! (This obviously applies to non-threatening and morally & ethically right behavior.) And WOOF thank you for getting this far in the A/N’s, this was a LOT! Gold stars for everyone!! 🌟🌟🌟

Taglist Open! Please send an Ask with the request to be added to It’s [Not] Okay Fic & SMAU: @psycho-nightrose @camcam1617 @kamalymaly @toobsessedsstuff @shookykookie30 @roro-707 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @cerealfrdinner797 @ara-mitsue @gray-444 @tanakasimpcorner @rintarovibes @jellien @everytimeswift @bongofrito @babucrow @beidouluvr @kozuken-ma @imarriedachef

[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 5/?

Word Count: 2.8k

Author’s Note: Y/N - Your name, A/N - Any name ( your best friend’s name)

Part 5! This is going well, I think, I hope you like it :) 

So last night, I finished two parts to this series, and guess what? Turns out when Tumblr glitches you have no rights and suddenly all your work is gone! If you need me, I’ll be crying in my writer’s corner

Warnings: Swearing, Trauma, Family Issues, Left on a cliffhanger lol :) sue me, no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Down girl, you’ve been on two dates, did he even open up to you fully? A/N texted back to Y/N, who took a quick break to the bathroom to compose herself and fix her hair after Jason, the man she was casually seeing, opened up to her about his father and his father’s criminal record as well as his mother and his mother’s passing.

Yes he opened up to me! But we’ve been spending all day flirting and I told him about how my father is an immigrant and how I tell everyone I am legally a bastard, and I just don’t know, is it too soon to say I like him?

Go get him, Girl. Go get him.

In the other room, Jason was hastily texting his brother Dick, who has been in a relationship with Barbara for a while now, and is deeply committed to her. So, he needed advice.

How did I know when to kiss Barbara? Do you want to kiss Y/N? Dick asked back to Jason.

Yes I want to kiss her you idiot, but when do I do it? We’ve only been on two dates.

Why don’t you take her to a fancy restaurant out of the city where you aren’t being watched constantly and she isn’t flipping off the paparazzi, and then do it? Also, Bruce thinks her flipping off the pap twice is very funny, shockingly.

As soon as he received that text, she walked back out of the bathroom, this time, letting her hair down out of the bun it is usually in.

“You look nice with your hair down, Y/N.”

“You think so? I usually have it down when I don’t have classes.”

“I do think so.”

“Well, thank you, Jason,” she purred, sitting back down in her chair, opposite him.

“Bruce saw your shenanigans with the pap, he apparently thinks it’s funny.”

“Your family is checking in on you? Can’t they trust me?” she said, in a completely sarcastic tone.

“Well, I was just bragging about how lovely I find you.”

“Kind of you to do so, Jason,” she placed her hands on his and had to lift herself up slightly to lean into him, not to kiss him or anything, but to be closer to him. 

“Your love language is physical attention,” he smirked at her, “I can tell by how you grab me, Y/N.”

“Don’t psych me out now, we’re having fun!” she whisper-yelled at him.”

“I do it when I’m nervous,” he assured.

“What’s there to be nervous of?” she asked.

“The pretty girl leaning into my face making moves on me?”

“You want me to stop?”

“No,” he grinned, “no chance I want you to stop.”

And then his phone rang. He picked it up to hear a very panicked Bruce on the other end,

“Jason, here, now.”

“Okay, okay.”

He hung up and grabbed her hands and leant in, like he was going to kiss her, but only rest his forehead against hers,

“This has been lovely, really, but that was Bruce and he needs me, I’m sorry,” he whispered down to her.

“I understand, we can always go on more dates.”

“I hope we do, see you later, Y/N.”

“See you, Jason.”

And he left. But there was something about the furniture in the house after he left, it smelled like him. Not in a weird way where she was obsessed with it, but she associated the smell with the feeling of riding through the city and the back roads like no one was watching, the feeling of being free, the feeling of being unstoppable.

And that, that was the beauty of the chase, the beauty of what she wanted, to be free, gone from her parents, gone from her twin sister, free.

But, she went to bed that night without even going to her car to pick up her notes. She did have class tomorrow, but it wasn’t criminal psych. It was regular psych. Which she wasn’t stoked for, that’s for damn sure.

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

Waking up, she opened her phone at around 5am to see a text from Jason,

You know, I always wanted to try some restaurants in Metropolis, I know you don’t like it, but I know the press doesn’t follow me there. What do you say? (Yes I know it’s 3am I’ll tell you all about what happened and why I’m awake so late later lol)

She thought about it, scared that her parents would see her walking around with this guy they didn’t know. Fuck it, she thought, I only live once.

Jason, I would love to. And I hope that story is a good one.

He almost immediately shot back, Mornin’ and yeah, it is. Do you have class today? I can come get you from your’s and pick you up from class if you need it, I swear you won’t have to ride the motorbike in your home city.

I do have class, and you don’t have to but my class is at 3pm again if you’re willing.

Meet up at 12 and talk for a while? Might be fun. 

My roommate will be here, though.

Well, you already inadvertedly met my best friend, remember the baker? His name’s Will Harper. I called in a quick favor to impress you and he’s a sucker for a good romance story.

Well, he seemed nice, and yeah, if you want to meet my roommate you can come over, Jason.

You can call me Jay if you want to, Y/N.

I gotta shower now, Jason, but I figured nick names would come out in time.

She put down her phone and went to shower.

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

“Mornin’ A/N.”

“Y/N,”, she greeted happily, “the coffee’s already brewed by the way.”

“God I love you,” she blurted out.

“Yeah yeah, tell me the drama, did you guys have sex?”

“No, but he’s coming over today to meet you slash talk to me before taking me to class and then driving himself and I to Metropolis for dinner.”

“Escaping the cameras to go to the city that has your parents?” A/N questioned, seeming concerned.

“I know, I know, but I only live once and I doubt we’ll see them. If we do, I might just call him my boyfriend to get it over with. Have to talk to him about that though.”

“Honestly, have you told him how insane your parents are?”

“That’s what I’m planning on doing today, A/N.”

“Don’t scare him off, Y/N.”

Y/N scoffed and she went to go get her notes from last night, it was around 11:50am, so she knew that Jason would be here any minute, but she needed to get those notes into her room, she was right about Jason when he pulled down the street in a Porsche. Pulling into her driveway, Y/N waved at Jason while finishing to pull out her books from her beat up car. Quite the difference from the Porsche and her car, but she only noticed it for a few seconds before both doors slammed, in sync.

“Well, that was timed perfectly,” she said to Jason when he met up with her at her car.

“Wow, we’re magicians,” he joked, “Do you need help?” he asked.

“No, no, I can handle it myself, thank you.”

“Well, it doesn’t kill me to ask, you’re going to need help with that door though,” he mused.

“Oh no, you underestimate me, I can open doors with my hips, and I think I didn’t shut the door the whole way so I could do this easier,” she laughed and began to lead him up the driveway, like she had done last night before he ran off with Bruce.

“Thinking ahead?”

“Something I clearly didn’t do when saying we could go to Metropolis, I’ll admit.”

“What do you mean?”

“We have time to talk about it later, Jay, are you however, ready to meet my roommate?”

“No, but you only live once, Y/N.”

“You won’t die, I promise,” she said as she nudged the door open with her hip and greeted A/N, “Hey girl! This is Jason, entertain him while I file notes, maybe, I swear I’ll speed run it.”

“Entertain him? Are you serious? He’s your guest!” she joked.

“Hey thanks man really appreciate it,” Y/N joked before hastily walking towards her bedroom, this was obviously a song and dance they had done with A/N’s lover, so Y/N shot it back at A/N.

“Jason.”

“A/N, right?”

“Yes, sir, how are you today?”

“I’m good, was that a fight?” he questioned.

“No, don’t worry, it’s just the way I acted when I first brought my partner, person, thing, over. She’s just being spiteful. Trust me, if it was a fight, there’d be a lot more of a screaming match.”

“Well, that’s reassuring, I think.”

“So, Jason, do you like her?” she asked.

“We’ve been on back-to-back dates since Sunday, A/N,” he paused, “I really do.”

“Well, it is not like I am going to sit here and be like ‘Oh you can’t date her!’ and feign being upset about this, I mean it’s been 2 dates and you’re going on a third, if that’s not leading towards seriousness, I don’t know what is,” she assured him. He seemed to like this.

“How much has she told you? My secrets or anything?”

“God no, you’ll tell me those with time when we’re friends.”

“Well, I hope you’re a good friend to Y/N and myself, in the future, then.”

“The future is just around the corner. Don’t let Y/N escape you. She’s a catch,” she finished as Y/N reentered the room,

“Did you two have fun?” Y/N asked.

“I think we did,” Jason said.

“We did,” A/N assured, “you two can go to her room now, I’ll be fine.”

“I wasn’t worried you weren’t going to be, you always are.” Y/N said to A/N before grabbing Jason’s hand and taking him to her room. He hadn’t been in her room yet.

It was kind of a mess, I mean it wasn’t like they had a maid and they’re both broke college/university students. Notes were strewn across her desk, but that was expected with such a high-study class, the one they met in.

“You clearly like the colour red,” Jason said, pointing to the obvious red feature wall, grinning.

“Well, I told my sister to design my room last time she was over and she picked it based off of the criteria I gave her, she’s going to be an interior designer, and red was one of the colours I gave her,” Y/N said with a sigh, “That’s kind of the thing we need to talk about, my family,” she sighed again, “They are, special, to say the least.”

“Well, so is mine.”

“Yeah but,” she sat on her bed and he joined her, “My family is quite, how do you say it, Christian? They’re very hard to impress and if they see me running around the city with you they might expect you to be my boyfriend, not the guy I’ve known for 3 days and went on back-to-back dates with,” she rambled, “ Not that they wont like you! They’re just traditional, and I’m not and it drives a slight wedge between us,” she paused to look at him, “This is just a really long-winded warning about only a chance to meet them,” she finished.

“Well, that doesn’t scare me. You would understand why if you knew the Waynes, not that they’re traditional, they too, are just hard to impress,” he assured.

“Probably shouldn’t have flipped off the paparazzi then, honestly.”

“No, Bruce found that funny. And about last night, my brother, Damien, he’s the youngest Wayne and one of the only not-adopted ones, being 3 not adopted ones,” he paused, “Anyway, he broke his leg playing office chair racing in the Manor, and I needed to go to Bruce to get yelled at for bringing up the idea,” he laughed, “Bruce then told me after that if he was invited I wouldn’t have been yelled at,” he paused, “That was fun.”

“So, very posh and pristine family, and one of you broke your leg roughhousing in a very expensive Manor?”

“Only in Wayne Manor would that be a sentence.”

“Seems like you have your hands tied with your family,” she joked.

“I wouldn’t if the idiots stopped hurting themselves playing games when I’m on dates,” he retorted and laughed with Y/N.

It seemed crazy that these two would meet, since so many factors played into it, but she swore God saw the potential for this to happen and said, This, this deserves a shot to shine. And she was grateful. She didn’t exactly believe in God, but if God sent her this boy, she might change her mind on going to church with her parents when they invite her.

And that’s the beauty in the mystery, the beauty in the ‘Positive’ they claimed after not knowing what to do next but still powering through to go on dates, and they had gone on enough dates and spent at least 1 third of the last 3 days with each other. That was impressive. That was a good sign and they both knew it.

The next step was packing a few bags and going on 24 hour dates in the cities, but they weren’t ready for that yet. They both thought a first kiss would be better before that. Luckily, Jason wanted to kiss her today, and she wanted to kiss him today.

Before they knew it, they were in the Porsche driving through the streets she describes all-too well, blasting songs and screaming lyrics with Jason, a song stuck out and that was the Annapantsu’s Smooth Criminal Rendition with Caleb Hyles. Since the rendition had a multitude of riffs that Y/N adored, she would scream it and Jason would continue the male parts. It was peaceful yet the most high-pressure intense situation she had felt in a while.

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

Getting out of class, she somehow avoided the paparazzi she had grown somewhat accustomed to over the days she had known Jason, she got back into the Porsche before they noticed she was even there, but then they noticed, and Jason fucking floored it to the streets and out of there.

He dropped her off at her place to get ready for an expensive dinner with him in Metropolis. She thought long and heard about what to wear to her date, but in the end, she decided on a nice pink dress her mother had bought for her back in Metropolis. She had told her daughter, Only wear this on a date with a man you think is endgame, now, she didn’t know if Jason was endgame, but she did want to put all the energy she could into the universe to make him worthwhile.

(This is the first time I’m going to include pictures! I think I’m getting the hand of Tumblr now hehe :) )

(If the skin tone doesn’t match your own, because you’re darker or paler, just imagine it’s yours :) you’re all beautiful in your own right and I’ll use pictures with varying skin tones as I progress the story)

She gave a little twirl in her mirror before taking a quick picture to send to one of her other class friends, who was wondering how things were going with Jason at the time. Her name was Artemis Crock, she knew that Art and Jason were friends, but she also liked Artemis Crock a lot, thinking that they were likely going to be good friends.

You’re going to make him swear up and down to Will that he is ‘Only seeing you casually’ while Will says he’s in love with you, you’re killing it. She shot to Y/N.

Y/N smiled and left her bedroom to go meet up with A/N, who wanted to make sure the dress she was wearing was cute, and it was,

“Holy shit! I said look cute, not make him your bitch, Y/N!”

“Potato, Potahto,” she laughed, “You really think I look worthy of a Wayne?”

“You always do, but you didn’t have to go THIS  hard to prove a point. Only one tabloid said you weren’t enough for him,” she paused and Y/N thought about that tabloid, it upset her, sure. But she was completely aware that spite was going to fuel many of her next moves in the press, “Just the one tabloid.”

“And the one tabloid is enough to make me spiteful. Fuck them tabloids, girl, they can suck it,” she said.

“I don’t think Jason would appreciate if the tabloids blew you,” she joked.

“You don't know that, A/N,” she retorted.

“Do you know that?” A/N said as the doorbell rang, “I’m assuming that’s for you, have fun!” A/N said and waved as Y/N waved back and walked to answer the door. Yep, it was Jason.

“Woah,” he said, mouth agape, when she answered the door.

“Close your mouth, Romeo. You’ll attract flies,” she joked.

[plaidbooks]

The R Drug part 4

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long! I got swept up in bingos and lost motivation for it along the way. But it’s here now, and I hope you all enjoy it ❤

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Tags: alcoholism, mentions of alcohol poisoning, a lil bit of a steamy make out, but that’s it

Words: 2114

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart  @beccabarba  @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy  @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl  @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @caracalwithchips @beardsanddetectives​  @reading--mermaid  @averyhotchner  @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31 @objection-argumentative

Year 1:

Sonny hardly contacts you. You go weeks with nothing from him, only to wake up at 4am with a phone call and a very drunk Sonny.

“Sonny? It’s 4am here—”

“Doll…I’m so—” you can hear how his words slur, and you can also hear that he’s crying— “so sorry, doll. I shoulda neva touched ya like that—”

“Dominick, are you drunk?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, worried and annoyed at once. “So—sorry…so sorry…” and then he hangs up. You fell back onto the bed, concerned about him; Genoa was only six hours ahead of Manhattan. He was drunk at…10am. That wasn’t healthy.

Unable to fall back asleep, you shot him a text, making sure he was okay before you got in the shower. But he never responded. Sighing, you call his mom; you still had her number since Sonny called her from your phone, and you had been growing close with his parents.

She tells you that she’s worried he’s drinking away his problems, but every time she offers to go to Genoa, he shoots her down, telling her he needs time alone. You’re just worried that time alone means him sinking further and further into the bottle.

 ********************

Year 2:

You saw when your phone lit up, Sonny’s number flashing on your screen. You glanced around the precinct before answering your phone, heading for the on-call room for privacy. It had been three months since you had a drunken call from him, and you were going to lay down the law with him.

“Listen, Sonny, I can’t listen to your drunken ramblings while at work—”

“Ah, shit, ya at work, huh?” he asked, cutting you off. But he sounded lucid rather than drunk. “I’m sorry; I forgot the time difference. I just wanted ta talk, let ya know…I’m not drinkin’ anymore. Look, I’ll let ya go; text me when ya free so we can catch up…please.”

You felt bad for assuming, but with your only contact for the past year being drunk Sonny, it had become habit. “Y—yeah, I’ll see if I can leave early, okay? But don’t stay awake for me.”

“Don’t get in trouble fer me,” he replied, making you chuckle. “I’ll talk ta ya soon…and I’m sorry, fer the past year.”

 *******************

You were no longer with SVU; it had been too hard working there, especially without Sonny. But you also couldn’t deal with the stares, even from your squad. So, you transferred to Homicide instead. And your boss thankfully let you leave early.

You texted Sonny the moment you were home, and instantly he was calling you.

“First, I wanna say I’m sorry fer the drunk calls—”

“Dominick Carisi Jr. If you say the phrase “I’m sorry” one more time, I’m going to fly to Genoa and smack you,” you replied, cutting him off.

He fell silent for a moment before he let out a laugh. “Yeah, I bet ya tired of hearin’ that, huh? Well…After ya left here, I—I spiraled. Hard. Turned ta the bottle, if ya couldn’t tell. But I hit the bottom, and I’m startin’ ta work my way back up.”

“What happened? What bottom did you hit?” you asked, breathless. You were happy he was telling you all this, because you had been so, so worried. But you also didn’t want to pry into his personal life or make him uncomfortable.

It took him a moment to respond. “I…it was 5am when I woke up, shakin’ fer a drink. I remember the first three shots as I made a cocktail, and then…. I woke up in a hospital bed, my stomach pumped. I guess I dropped ta the floor when I lost consciousness, and my downstairs neighbor heard it.”

“Oh my god, Sonny! Are you okay now?” you asked, wanting nothing more than to give him a hug, hold him to you.

“Yeah, I’m good now. I had my stomach pumped and part of my liver cut out, but I’m okay. I no longa have the urge ta drink, and I dumped everythin’ I had. But please, tell me what’s goin’ on with ya; how’s life at the precinct?”

You spent hours talking to Sonny that night, even though it was getting later and later for him. He had so many questions, wanting to know everything going on with you. He vaguely mentioned that he got a job at a grocery store as a cashier, but otherwise, he was focused on you.

 ****************

Year 3:

You and Sonny talked almost every day, falling back into your habits before all this mess happened. You joked around, sent funny pictures to each other, ranted about your days; it was almost as if nothing ever happened. Almost.

From the pictures, you could tell that he was getting tanner, and he started growing out his hair and beard, making you swoon. Not that you’d tell him that; you weren’t sure if he’d be okay with you flirting yet.

But you were happy that things were getting back to normal with you two. It had been almost 4 years since the club incident, and it barely crossed your mind anymore. You had dated since Sonny was in Genoa, but no one seemed to be working for you. At least you could make out with someone without having flashbacks, so you called it a win.

You knew why it wasn’t working out for you, though; you were in love with Sonny, had been since the moment you met him. You were able to move past the club, but you couldn’t move past him. That’s why you had hated yourself so much, and that’s why you felt terrible leaving him behind in Italy. When he kissed you outside the airport in Genoa, you had thought that maybe he had felt the same way about you. Then that first year with drunk Sonny happened, and you weren’t sure about anything anymore.

You were still close with his family, too. Ma Carisi often invited you over for dinner, and you met Sonny’s sisters. You were the emergency babysitter for both Mia (who didn’t think she needed a sitter, until she met you and had fun with you) and Bella’s little girl. And Pa Carisi enjoyed having debates about laws with you, plus the odd sports talk. Slowly, you became one of the family, and you loved them all like your own.

 ***************

Year 4:

Ma Carisi called you, inviting you over for dinner once again. You accepted, telling her you’d be there in thirty. You had to park on the street with all the cars there; the Carisi girls were home for dinner, as well. You smiled as you made your way up the path to the front door, then knocked. The door opened, but instead of Ma Carisi greeting you with a warm smile, it was Sonny.

“Hey doll,” he said, eyes lit up with amusement. You froze for only a moment before you were crushing him in a bear hug. You heard the huff of air as you took the air from his lungs, but you didn’t care; you had missed him so much. You had pinned his arms next to him, so he couldn’t even hug you back.

“Doll…ya crushin’ me…” he gasped, and you finally let him go. Though, you kept your hands on his arms, not believing that he was there, in front of you.

“Are you back for good?” you asked, your voice hushed. You were waiting for him to deny it, for him to say he was only visiting.

“I’m back fer good. Already got my apartment—” He was cut off again as you hugged him, burying your face in his chest. You couldn’t stop the tears that appeared, so happy to have your best friend back. He rubbed your back, murmuring that it’s all okay now, and you had the sudden urge to kiss him. You fought the urge, not wanting to complicate things.

Instead, you ran your hands over his back, then leaned away to look at him. “Have you been working out?” It was true that he was deliciously tan, his hair coifed, and his beard trimmed neatly. He was already so much more attractive than you remembered, even with the pictures he had sent.

He barked out a laugh, a gleam in his eye. “I have, yeah. Whenever I felt the urge ta drink, I instead went to work out. I’m not a body builder or anythin’, though.”

“I’m proud of you, Sonny,” you said, and you meant it. You had gone through hell after the club incident, but Sonny didn’t have a walk in the park either. And you were glad he had found himself.

A pink tint appeared on his cheeks as he smiled at you. He took your hand, kissed your knuckles, and you swooned.

 ******************

After the surprise greeting at the front door, he brought you into the house. Ma Carisi and all his sisters gave you a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek, and Pa Carisi patted your shoulder; the normal greeting from the family. But now that Sonny was there, too, the energy was truly alive. Everyone was smiling and laughing, having a fantastic time together. The talk was loud, happy, and energized. It was almost as if Sonny hadn’t been hiding in Genoa for four years.

After the talk had finally died down, it was time for you to go home. Sonny offered to walk you to your car, and you agreed, not wanting to leave him quite yet.

“I’m so glad you came back, Sonny. I’ve missed you,” you said as you stood by your driver’s side door.

He grinned at you. “A promise is a promise. I told ya I’d come back once I was…better.”

“And are you better? Did you date at all in Genoa?”

His smile faded, and you worried you offended him. You were about to apologize when he spoke. “I am and I did. But no one there was…it fer me, ya know?”

“Yeah…same thing here. I dated a few people, but no one felt right—the spark wasn’t there. At least I had no flashbacks; I hardly remember that night anymore, to be honest,” you said, looking into his eyes, trying to gauge his reaction.

Sonny simply nodded. “Me either, really. It was so long ago…plus, I bet the drinkin’ didn’t help. But I do remember you, showin’ up outta nowhere on a random street in Genoa. Talkin’ me through the worst time of my life.”

“And I remember you, comforting me during a thunderstorm when you didn’t have to do that. Your emotions were everywhere; I couldn’t imagine the turmoil I must’ve put you through—”

“No, no, look at me,” he muttered, his warm hand cupping your cheek. “No matter what happens—in the past or the future—I wanna take care of ya, make sure you’re okay. Comfortin’ ya, it was a slice of normalcy after I thought I’d neva have that again. I needed ya there, and I’m so thankful I had ya.”

You smiled up at him, melting into his touch. His thumb stroked your cheekbone, and you felt closer to him than ever before. “You know what else I remember, Sonny?”

“Hm?”

Slowly, you leaned forward, going slow enough that he had plenty of time to pull away. But instead, he also leaned in until your lips brushed against each other. You smiled softly before you pressed your lips more firmly to his. The hand still cupping your cheek tilted you slightly, letting him kiss you a little more forcefully, his beard tickling you as he moved.

There was the spark that was missing from all your past relationships; you had felt it in the airport, but it wasn’t the right time. Now, however, there was nothing holding you back from deepening the kiss, your tongues coming together in a beautiful dance.

Sonny gently pushed you back against your car, the kiss getting more heated. Your hands went to his shaggy, luscious hair, tugging softly and making him moan into your mouth. His hands dropped to your hips, pushing you back against the car as his tongue memorized your mouth.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from you, both of you panting hard. You were about to suggest he show you his new apartment when he muttered, “I wanna take this slow. Please.”

You shut your mouth, nodding. You’d do anything to make him comfortable and happy. “I can do slow. As long as I have you, Sonny.”

His eyes brightened and he gave you his signature goofy smile. “Ya have me fer as long as ya want me.”

[dameronology]

a world on fire {poe dameron}

summary: passion is good, fire is good - but breathing is more important (based loosely on just a lover by hayley williams, naturally) 

warnings: mentions of infidelity, language 

i just love angst. i really love angst. i like to hurt. enjoy :)

- jazz xx

Poe Dameron was a paradox. 

On one hand, he was a complete bad-ass. The best pilot in the Resistance and righthand man to the General. He was a leader in the making and everybody looked up to him, even when he was chaotic as fuck. The way he went into battle with his common sense both simultaneously present and no-where to be found would go down in the history books. His parents’ spirit and good-natured lived on through his selflessness. He was untouchable, in a way; a man made of titanium with a never-ending wit and a will of steel. A hero. 

On the other hand, he was...Poe. Your Poe. The man whose eyes lit up when he spoke about his late mother; the man who turned up at your door at 5AM in floods of tears because he’d just finished a book and had to tell you about it.  Poe with the warm brown eyes and lopsided smile, whose brows creased together whenever he got a little confused about something. Poe, who left you little notes around the base when he knew you were sad, and brought you random gifts back from his trips to other planets just because. Completely complex and yet entirely understandable, but one of the most beautiful people you’d ever seen, inside and out. 

Especially now. At 5am, under the thick canopies of the Ajan Kloss jungle; the air around you was stuffy and fresh in equal measures, casting a cold chill over your bare arms and legs. It was raining, but not really. The sort of dumb rain where you smell it in the air and see it hit the ground, but never quite feel it on your skin. Poe had called it soft rain. Still, you would have taken it over a storm, because you only wearing a baggy old shirt and some pyjama shorts. 

Poe was stood opposite you in a similar attire - except instead of opting for boots, he was still wearing his Ewok slippers (albeit, slightly soggy Ewoks). You were perched on a log with the pilot stood a few feet away; he’d been ranting for the better part of fifteen minutes, but you’d zoned out long ago. His dark curls were sticking to his forehead thanks to the rain, and he had that spark in his eyes that they held whenever he was talking about something he loved. It was an easy sight to get lost in. 

‘Anyways, so I know you took dances classes a kid and I was thinking you could help me-’

‘- woah, when did we get to that?’ You blinked in surprise. 

Poe rolled his eyes. ‘You zoned out again, didn’t you?’

‘I’m sorry!’ You groaned. ‘It’s late - or early, I can’t tell.’

‘You’re a nightmare.’ He shook his head with a laugh and stuck his hand out to you. ‘C’mon. You can make it up to me by teaching me to dance.’

‘I don’t dance, Dameron-’

You let out a squeak when he took your hands in his, wrenching you up and off the bench. Stumbling for a moment, your chests collided, an easy balance settling over you as steadied you with an arm to the waist. You were in his eyeline now, the perfect position to hold his gaze in yours and just...stare. It wasn’t something you did often, but right now, it was impossible not to. He was smiling ear to ear, honey eyes creased at the side as he dragged you away from your little safe spot and into a dirt clearing, mid-Jungle. 

He held you flush against his body, intertwining your fingers. What the fuck were you supposed to do? You didn’t dance. Hadn’t for years, and you were beginning to regret showing Poe those pictures of you in ballet class. It was comical that he thought you knew how to ballroom dance, or at least know enough to teach him enough for his first dance. You felt your throat dry up at that thought, quickly pushing it to the back of your throat. 

‘There’s no music, Poe.’ You tried to pull away, but his grip on your hands only grew tighter. 

‘When have we ever needed music?’ Poe softly smiled. He pulled you closer, trying to fight back a laugh as he comically swayed from side to side. 

Your eyes fell to the floor, and you forced a smile. ‘You gotta keep your back straighter.’ 

‘Got it. Posture is key.’ He adjusted his stance. ‘Anything else I oughta know?’

‘You should lead.’ You continued. ‘Because you’re taller.’

‘And how do I do that, chief?’

‘Just...go in whatever direction feels right. No harsh turns, just kinda make it flow, y’know?’

‘Like this?’

He moved his hand to the small of your back, pulling you in the other direction. You almost tripped as he did, burying your head in his shoulder to suppress a laugh. His body shook with a chuckle, mirroring yours. 

‘There’s this song my mum used to sing to me at bedtime.’ He softly said. ‘I don’t remember the words, but I know the tune.’

‘Are you implying that I’m about to get a live performance?’ You lifted your head up to look at him. 

‘You did say that we needed music.’

You stayed like that for a moment, bodies mere inches apart, swaying side to side. Poe murmured a soft tune; it was familiar, like a sweet and distant childhood memory, softly filling the air around you. You kept your arms circled around his waist, shirt balled up in your fists and head planted firmly in his shoulders. He didn’t know it, but it was a moment of pure desperation, wanting to cling onto him for dear fucking life. This might be the last time you were this close; the last time you could ever have him hold you in this way. You would have given anything, not just in the galaxy, but far beyond that, to stay like this a little longer. Just you and him, closer than you’d ever been, under the golden glow of the Ajan Kloss moonlight and the soft sprinkle of the rain.

‘Do you think I’ve got it?’ He asked quietly.

‘Yeah.’ You murmured. ‘You do.’

‘I appreciate you, sweetheart.’ He smiled. ‘Can’t be making a fool of myself at my own wedding, right?’

His wedding. Not your wedding. Just his, and a girl you’d barely made the effort to get to know.

That was your own fault - a mixture of jealousy and guilt, probably. Jealousy, because she was getting to marry the man you’d loved for as long as you could remember, and guilt, because you’d fallen into bed with that man several times since he’d put the ring on her finger. You could barely look her in the eye, knowing what you’d done - but it had never stopped you. Every time was supposed to be the last time, but then it became a past time. 

Sneaking about behind her back, promising it would never happen again, only to fall between the sheets mere weeks later. It was never about love, or cementing anything long term. It wasn’t because Poe wanted to be with you instead or because he was trying to sabotage his engagement. It was just...it was one of things that could never quite be explained. You loved one another more than life itself, in an all consuming, debilitating way, but it never worked out when you tried. You didn’t want to be together, but you didn’t want to be with anyone else. It didn’t make sense. None of it made sense. 

Then there were moments like this; just you and him, against the backdrop of a vast galaxy but unable to think about anything else or look at anyone else. The whole world could have been up in flames and neither of you would have noticed. It didn’t matter where you were, or what you were doing. As long as you had Poe, you had everything. 

But that was about to change. He was marrying someone else, and this whole thing would have to stop. Not just the sneaking about and the stolen kisses - in reality, that never have started in the first place - but everything. Because even if Poe completely dedicated himself to his wife-to-be, and demoted you to just a friend, you could never manage it. You were like two ends of a magnet, completely unable to stay away from one another. You’d already crossed too many lines.

‘Poe.’ You softly murmured. Your hands dropped back to your sides, letting go of your grip on his shirt. ‘This has to stop now.’

His smile softened. ‘Is my dancing that bad?’

‘Not your dancing, dumbass.’ Your pained tone didn’t quite match your words. ‘Us.’ 

‘Right. That.’ Poe sniffed. He let go of you, backing over to where you’d been sat on the log a few moments prior. 

A small sigh escaped your lips, and you trudged across the muddy ground, taking a seat beside him. The atmosphere had quickly changed from something sweet to something bitter. It made you wish you’d savoured that soft moment with Poe for a little longer, because now you’d brought up the subject, there was no going back. This was it now. You had to rip it off like a band-aid. 

‘I like us.’ Poe murmured quietly. 

‘There is no us, Poe.’ You reminded him. ‘We tried, remember? And it never worked.’

‘What’s the last few months been then?’

‘It’s been us living in a bubble. Pretending that if we ignore the outside world, that we can be together.’ You said. ‘But reality is gonna catch up with us, and we have to get on top of it before it does.’

‘Maker.’ Poe sniffed. ‘I always said I’d never be that guy.’

‘I shouldn’t have made you that guy.’ You reached across and took his hand in yours. Giving it a squeeze, you brushed your thumb over it and let go. 

‘Time to face the music, huh?’ Poe’s eyes followed you as you stood up. 

‘’fraid so, Dameron.’ 

You wanted to say it, to blurt it out: I love you.

In reality, what you had was just infatuation. It wasn’t love, not in the long term. It was passionate and intense, as though the world around you were on fire. It burnt bright and true, lighting up everything around you and keeping you warm inside. Ultimately, though, it was susceptible to burning out. And once it had, what would be left? Ashes. Burn scars, and strangled cries for what you’d lost. 

Like fire, the entire thing was suffocating. Depriving you of oxygen and swallowing you whole; making you feel like you had the weight of the world of the chest. It was okay, though, because when you were with Poe, breathing didn’t matter all that much. 

You had to step away; fan the fire out and let your lungs fill with air, so that you could scream. Scream for him, scream for the fact you would only ever be a lover, and an affair that would pass in time. 

When the flames were gone, when you’d let out a cry of war and grief, you could take a step back, and maybe, just maybe, breathe him in again. 

tags: @marvelinsanity​ @poestardust​ @princessxkenobi​ @nomanchesnoncreator​