#like i know. i Know just because of. things about how i grew up and whatnot

[solxamber]

stay w me in this one, kiss cam w the first years 🙂‍↕

Kiss Cam with: The First Years

a/n; anon you brain is so big!! i got so happy??? when i saw this?? i kinda blacked out for a while and ended up writing it

Ace Trappola

The arena was packed, the air buzzing with energy as the Magift team dominated the field. You were sandwiched between Deuce and Ace, the latter chugging a soda while obnoxiously yelling at the players.

“Ace, they can’t hear you,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as he yelled, “PASS THE DISC, YOU IDIOT!”

“I don’t care! They need to know how bad they’re screwing up!” Ace shot back, waving his drink wildly.

Deuce leaned over, clearly mortified. “Can you not embarrass us in front of the whole school?”

Ace just smirked. “What? Embarrassed to be seen with your cooler, more handsome best friend?”

You snorted. “Handsome? In your dreams, Trappola.”

Ace turned to you, feigning offense. “Oh, so I’m not handsome? Guess I’ll have to let the kiss cam settle this one.”

“What does that even mean?” you asked, rolling your eyes.

As if the universe decided to spite you, the lights dimmed, and a giant heart frame appeared on the jumbotron.

You froze. “No. No way.”

Ace leaned forward, his grin turning devious. “Oh yes.”

Deuce, ever the supportive friend, burst into laughter, slapping his knee. “This is the best day of my life.”

Meanwhile, you wanted the ground to swallow you whole. “This has to be a mistake.”

The announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers. “Come on, lovebirds! Don’t be shy! Show us some NRC spirit!”

“I’m going to die,” you muttered, burying your face in your hands.

“Not without giving the people what they want,” Ace teased, turning to you with an exaggerated smirk. “Come on, for school pride.”

You glared at him, your cheeks burning. “Ace Trappola, I will—”

Before you could finish, Ace leaned in, his smirk fading into something more genuine. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “Relax. It’s just a little kiss, right?”

Your breath hitched. The crowd was chanting louder now, and your heart was racing for reasons that had nothing to do with the embarrassment.

“Just a little kiss,” you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

And then it happened.

When his lips met yours, the crowd erupted into cheers, whistles, and applause. Time seemed to stop as the noise around you faded into a distant hum.

His lips were warm and surprisingly gentle, and the faint taste of soda lingered as he pulled back, his face flushed but grinning like an idiot.

“Well,” he said, his voice slightly breathless, “that wasn’t so bad, huh?”

You blinked at him, your brain short-circuiting. “You… You just kissed me!”

“You kissed me back,” he shot back, his grin widening.

Deuce, still laughing like a lunatic, clapped Ace on the back. “Congratulations, Trappola. You finally grew a pair.”

Ace turned to the jumbotron, where your kiss was being replayed in slow motion. “Man, we look good together,” he said smugly, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

You shoved him, your face burning hotter than the sun. “Don’t push your luck.”

The rest of the game passed in a blur. Ace was insufferably smug, Deuce wouldn’t stop teasing you, and your heart refused to calm down.

As the crowd filed out of the arena, Ace caught your hand, stopping you just outside the gates.

“Hey,” he said, his usual grin replaced with something softer. “So, uh… about earlier.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What about it?”

“I wasn’t kidding, you know,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I like you. Like, a lot. And this is not just because of the kiss cam thing.”

You stared at him, your heart skipping a beat. “Ace…”

“I mean, no pressure or anything!” he added quickly, his face turning red. “But, you know, if you did want to be more than friends, I wouldn’t mind…”

You smiled, stepping closer and leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “You’re such an idiot.”

His jaw dropped. “Wait—does that mean…?”

“It means yes, Ace,” you said, laughing. “But you better not let this go to your head.”

Ace grinned, grabbing your hand. “Too late.”

Spoiler: Ace tells everyone at school, and now half the campus thinks the kiss cam was staged. You’re stuck with him, but honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Deuce Spade

The stadium buzzed with excitement, the crowd alive with cheers as NRC's Magift team scored another point. You sat beside Deuce, who was yelling encouragement so earnestly you swore the players might actually hear him through sheer determination.

“Come on! You’ve got this! Pass it—yes!” he shouted, punching the air.

You couldn’t help but smile. Deuce’s enthusiasm was contagious, even if he had accidentally knocked over your popcorn in his excitement earlier.

“You’re going to lose your voice,” you teased, nudging his arm.

“I’ll be fine,” he replied with a grin. “This is important!”

What wasn’t important, however, was the dreaded kiss cam that appeared on the giant screen moments later.

The heart-shaped frame zoomed in on various couples, each one receiving cheers as they nervously or enthusiastically complied. You laughed, thinking nothing of it—until your own face appeared on the screen.

You froze. “Oh no.”

Deuce, oblivious, kept clapping until the heart frame zoomed out to reveal him beside you. His face turned crimson so fast you worried he might combust.

“W-What?!” he stammered, pointing at the screen as if denying its existence might make it disappear.

The crowd erupted in laughter and cheers, the announcer’s voice booming. “Come on, lovebirds! Let’s see some NRC spirit!”

“Deuce, say something,” you hissed, your face burning.

“I—uh—I—” he stuttered, looking everywhere but at you. “They—uh—made a mistake! Right?!”

The announcer wasn’t letting up. “Looks like someone’s shy! Don’t leave us hanging!”

Deuce looked at you helplessly, his face a mix of panic and mortification. “I-I’m so sorry about this!”

You sighed, your own heart racing. “It’s fine, Deuce. Just a quick kiss, and they’ll move on.”

He nearly choked. “A kiss?!”

“It’s not a marriage proposal!” you shot back, trying to keep your cool despite your own nerves.

He nodded frantically, visibly psyching himself up. “O-Okay! Let’s do this!”

Deuce leaned in slowly, his eyes shut so tightly you thought he might be praying for divine intervention. His lips brushed your cheek in the softest, most hesitant kiss imaginable before he pulled back like he’d just touched a live wire.

The crowd cheered wildly, but Deuce wasn’t done. In his panic, he’d miscalculated the kiss angle, and his forehead accidentally bumped yours as he pulled away.

“Oh no! Are you okay?” he asked, horrified.

You couldn’t help but laugh, your nervousness melting away at his sheer awkwardness. “I’m fine, Deuce.”

“Are you sure?” he asked again, his hands hovering like he wanted to check for injuries.

You smiled and, feeling bold, leaned forward to kiss his cheek in return. The crowd’s cheers doubled, and Deuce looked at you like you’d just announced he’d won the lottery.

“Um,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible. “That was… uh… nice.”

You laughed. “It’s just a kiss, Deuce.”

“Y-Yeah,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just a kiss.”

Deuce spent the rest of the game sneaking glances at you, his face perpetually red. By the time the match ended, you were sure he’d worn a hole in the ground with all his nervous foot-tapping.

As the two of you walked back to the dorms, he finally cleared his throat.

“Hey,” he began, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “I… I really like you.”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden confession. “Deuce—”

“I mean it!” he said quickly, his words tumbling out like he’d been holding them back for ages. “I’ve liked you for a while, but I didn’t know how to tell you, and the kiss cam just kind of—”

You cut him off with a quick kiss to his lips, effectively silencing his rambling.

“Does that answer your question?” you asked, smiling at his stunned expression.

Deuce nodded, his face practically glowing. “Y-Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

Spoiler: Ace finds out and teases Deuce relentlessly, but Deuce doesn’t care. He’s too busy walking you to class and holding your hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Jack Howl

The stadium was alive with energy, the roar of the crowd reverberating through the stands as NRC's Magift team dominated the field. You sat beside Jack, who had insisted you attend because "It's good to support our school." Truthfully, you didn’t mind—watching the game with Jack was its own kind of fun.

He sat rigidly in his seat, tail swishing lightly as his sharp eyes tracked every play on the field. You chuckled at how serious he looked.

"Jack, relax. It's just a game," you teased.

"It's not just a game," he replied, his ears flicking. "This is about teamwork, discipline, and—"

He stopped mid-sentence when the crowd erupted in cheers. You both looked up to the big screen, only to see a giant pink heart frame around… you and Jack.

Cue Panic.

“Wait, what?!” you exclaimed, your face instantly heating up.

Jack’s ears flattened against his head as his eyes widened in sheer panic. “Oh no.”

The announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers. “Looks like we’ve got a shy couple! Let’s hear it for them, folks!”

The crowd cheered louder, and you groaned. “Oh, come on…”

Jack was frozen in place, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world. His tail puffed up slightly as he asked, “They’ll move on, right? They’ll pick someone else?”

You glanced at the screen, seeing your own mortified expression reflected back at you. “Not unless we do something.”

Jack’s face turned impossibly red. “You mean…?”

“Yes, Jack,” you said, trying to suppress your own embarrassment. “A kiss. Just a small one! It’s no big deal.”

Jack looked at you like you’d just asked him to leap off a cliff. “I can’t! What if it’s weird? Or awkward? Or—”

“Jack,” you interrupted, placing a hand on his arm. “It’s just a game. Let’s get it over with.”

His ears twitched nervously as he nodded. “Okay. But, uh… where?”

“Where?” you repeated, confused.

“I mean, do I… your cheek? Your forehead? I—I don’t want to—”

“Jack!” you laughed, despite your own nerves. “Cheek is fine.”

He nodded again, his tail wagging nervously behind him as he leaned in. Just as his lips barely brushed your cheek, the crowd erupted in cheers—only for Jack to try to jerk back so fast that his forehead bumped yours.

“Ow!” you yelped, rubbing your head.

“Are you okay?!” he asked, panicking.

“I’m fine,” you said, trying not to laugh at his flustered expression. “But you might’ve just knocked me into next week.”

The announcer’s voice interrupted. “Let’s hear it for our lovebirds! What a show!”

You both sank further into your seats, faces burning. Jack mumbled an apology, looking like he wanted to crawl under the stadium.

“You know,” you said, trying to lighten the mood. “You could’ve just kissed me properly.”

Jack froze, his eyes snapping to yours. “What?”

“Yeah,” you teased, grinning. “You’re already on the big screen. Might as well make it count.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his ears flicking nervously. Then, to your surprise, he leaned in again—this time more confidently—and pressed a quick, warm kiss to your lips.

The crowd lost it, cheering so loudly you could barely hear yourself think.

When Jack pulled back, his face was crimson, but there was a small, shy smile on his lips. “There. Was… was that okay?”

You smiled back, your heart racing. “More than okay.”

Jack spent the rest of the game sitting a little closer to you, his tail wagging uncontrollably. As you left the stadium, he finally cleared his throat.

“So… does this mean we’re—uh… dating?” he asked awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

You laughed, grabbing his hand. “What do you think?”

Jack’s tail wagged even harder. “I think I’m really lucky.”

Spoiler: Ace, Deuce and Epel find out later and tease Jack mercilessly, but he doesn’t care. He’s too busy walking you to class with his hand in yours.

Epel Felmier

The game was electric, with the crowd roaring as NRC held a narrow lead over RSA. You sat near the bench, cheering loudly for one player in particular. Epel was a blur of determination on the field, his every move brimming with adrenaline and a grit that made your heart race just watching him.

During halftime, the players jogged off the field to hydrate and strategize. Epel wiped the sweat from his brow and spotted you by the bench. You held up an electrolyte drink with a proud smile.

“Here, you earned it!” you said, handing him the bottle.

He accepted it with a quick grin, gulping it down like a man dying of thirst. “Thanks. Didja see that shot I made earlier?”

“I did!” you replied enthusiastically. “You’re playing amazing out there!”

Your encouragement had him standing a little taller, his eyes shining with a mix of pride and affection. “Well, I ain’t done yet. Gotta show those RSA guys what we’re made of.”

But before he could head back to the huddle, the crowd’s noise shifted. You both turned toward the massive screen above the field, where a familiar heart-shaped frame surrounded… the two of you.

Epel froze for a fraction of a second, his flushed face turning an even deeper shade of red. You stared at the screen in surprise, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.

“Is that… the kiss cam?” you muttered.

Epel glanced back at his team’s huddle, where his teammates were laughing and giving him exaggerated thumbs-ups. The crowd began chanting, egging him on.

In that moment, with the adrenaline from the game still coursing through his veins and the giddy rush of your praise in his chest, Epel made a snap decision.

Without a word, he leaned in and kissed you—hard, fast, and with enough confidence to leave you absolutely stunned.

The crowd erupted into cheers and whistles as Epel pulled back, his violet eyes sparkling mischievously. “Thanks for the drink,” he said casually, as if he hadn’t just turned your world upside down.

Then, with one last grin, he jogged back to his team, leaving you standing there, breathless and staring after him.

The rest of the game was a blur. Epel was on fire, scoring two more goals and securing the win for NRC. The crowd was ecstatic, the team celebrating wildly, but your mind was stuck on that kiss.

When the post-game frenzy finally settled, Epel approached you by the bleachers. He was still sweaty and flushed, but his usual nervousness was nowhere to be seen. The adrenaline from the game still seemed to fuel him as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Hey,” he started, his accent thick and his voice a little raspy. “About that kiss earlier…”

You raised an eyebrow, your heart pounding. “What about it?”

Epel took a deep breath, his violet eyes locking onto yours. “I ain’t just kissin’ people for fun, ya know? I… I like you. A lot. And I’ve been wantin’ to say somethin’ for ages, but I didn’t know how. Guess the kiss cam kinda forced my hand.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his honesty. “So what are you saying, Epel?”

“I’m sayin’... would ya go out with me?” he asked, his cheeks turning red again.

You pretended to think for a moment, but the truth was, you already knew your answer. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Epel’s face lit up, his grin wide and genuine. “Really?!”

“Really,” you said, laughing.

He fist-pumped the air triumphantly before quickly trying to play it cool. “Well, uh, that’s great. I’ll, uh, plan somethin’ nice, alright?”

“Looking forward to it,” you replied, your smile as wide as his.

The kiss cam video was all over campus the next day, much to Epel’s embarrassment and your amusement. Still, neither of you could deny how it sparked something wonderful between you.

And yet, every time someone teased him about it, Epel would just grin and shrug. “What can I say? I go for what I want.”

Sebek Zigvolt

The Magift stadium was loud and lively, the crowd cheering wildly as NRC battled RSA in a fierce match. You sat next to Sebek, who was practically vibrating with excitement. Not for the game, mind you, but for the honor of cheering for his young master.

“Do you see that?!” Sebek shouted, practically jumping out of his seat. “The precision! The sheer grace! Lord Malleus is unmatched on the field!”

You smiled, resting your chin on your hand. “Yeah, Sebek, I see it. You’ve mentioned it about... ten times now.”

“Only ten?!” He gasped, scandalized. “I must rectify this immediately—”

Before he could continue his speech, the crowd erupted into cheers. Confused, you looked up at the massive screen, only to freeze.

There, framed in a gigantic pink heart, were you and Sebek.

“What… what is this madness?!” Sebek’s voice boomed over the crowd noise, his face quickly turning beet red.

“It’s the kiss cam,” you explained, already feeling the heat creeping up your neck.

Sebek blinked at you, utterly baffled. “Kiss cam? What nonsense is this?!”

The announcer chimed in cheerfully. “Looks like we’ve got a lively one, folks! Give the crowd what they want!”

The audience clapped and whistled, clearly entertained by Sebek’s outburst. Meanwhile, you wished you could melt into the ground.

“Sebek, we’re on the big screen,” you hissed, trying to keep your voice low. “Just a quick kiss, and they’ll move on!”

Sebek recoiled as if you’d suggested dueling Malleus. “What?! A kiss? In public? In front of—of all these people?”

“Yes!” you snapped. “It’s not that big of a deal!”

“But—! But—!” Sebek sputtered, his hands flailing in an uncharacteristically awkward display. “I cannot—this is—HOW DARE THEY IMPOSE SUCH A THING?"

The crowd was relentless, chanting louder as Sebek grew more flustered.

“Sebek,” you sighed, leaning closer to him. “If you don’t just do it, they’ll keep us up there forever.”

His eyes widened, darting between you and the screen. “I—fine! But only to end this nonsense!”

Sebek sat up stiffly, his face as red as his dorm uniform. Slowly, he leaned toward you… only to stop halfway, completely frozen.

“Sebek,” you whispered, trying not to laugh at his deer-in-headlights expression. “You’re overthinking it. Just a little peck.”

He shut his eyes tightly, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “For the honor of the young master.” Then, with the precision of someone about to execute a high-level spell, he leaned in and pressed the briefest kiss imaginable to your cheek.

The crowd erupted into cheers, but Sebek immediately pulled back, clutching his chest like he’d just fought a dragon.

“Well, that was…” You paused, trying to find the right word. “Anticlimactic.”

Sebek glared at you, still blushing furiously. “What more do you want?! I have upheld this ridiculous tradition to the best of my ability!”

You smirked, leaning closer. “Oh, come on. You’re supposed to kiss me on the lips.”

“WHAT?!” Sebek practically shouted, earning another wave of laughter from the crowd.

“Fine, I’ll do it,” you teased, leaning in just a bit more.

Sebek’s brain seemed to short-circuit for a moment, but before you could follow through on your teasing threat, he surprised you by leaning in and kissing you properly.

It was quick and clumsy but sincere, and when he pulled back, the people sitting around you erupted into wild cheers.

Sebek, meanwhile, looked like he was about to faint. “There. Are you satisfied now?!”

You laughed, touching your lips. “Actually, yeah. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

For the rest of the game, Sebek sat ramrod straight, refusing to look at you.

When the match ended and you both walked back to campus, he finally broke the silence. “That… that was purely for practical purposes!”

You grinned. “Sure, Sebek. Whatever you say.”

He glanced at you, his blush returning in full force. “It—it meant nothing!”

But the way his hand brushed against yours—and stayed there—told a very different story.

Masterlist

[woso-dreamzzz]

Tears V

Alexia Putellas x Baby!Reader

Summary: Your birth comes with a lot of complications

TW: *birth complications, premature birth*

It's kind of difficult to do a lot of things with a baby bump.

Alexia hadn't ever thought of it like that before.

Her back aches as she wakes up. Her ankles have swelled. She's craving weird things and waking up in the middle of the night, ready to call her Mami and get her to go to the shop to pick up whatever Alexia feels like she needs.

It had been a difficult choice to make, to put her career on pause to have a baby.

The idea had come out of nowhere, an errant thought that just grew bigger and bigger out of nowhere until it was all Alexia could think about.

A baby.

A little baby.

That's what Alexia focused on now as her eyes flutter open and she rolls over in bed.

For a moment, all is calm and Alexia can listen to the soft chirping of the birds.

In the next moment though, she muffles a scream with her fist.

There's pain in her lower belly and blood all over her sheets.

It's a bit of a blur after that.

There's definitely a call to someone. An ambulance as well but Alexia can barely tell what happened first or even how long it took to get there.

She's in and out, in a lot of pain but completely unaware of what's going on around her.

There's a pressure of a hand in her own as she finally comes to, eyes fluttering open but there's no birds to greet her this time.

Just the steady beeping of a heart monitor and the soft noise of a tv playing.

"Ma-Mami? What...What's going on?"

Eli pushes the hair out of Alexia's face, lips pursed as she pulls her chair closer.

"Ale, sweetheart..."

Alexia looks around, taking in surroundings. She's definitely in a hospital, that much is clear but her head is still fuzzy and not quite fully there.

"Mami, you're scaring me. What's going on?"

There's a panel of glass between you both as Alexia stares.

She's been put in a wheelchair and her doctor insists that she stays there.

It's too soon for her to be walking around and using her stomach muscles to get up.

Too soon after her surgery.

Her uterus ruptured. That's what Alexia was told. That's why she woke up that day with pain and a pool of blood in her bed. Her uterus ruptured and you were in danger.

The words didn't have much of an impact on Alexia. She already felt numb, both physically and mentally.

She'd nearly killed you.

Her uterus ruptured and you didn't have oxygen for who knows how long.

Her uterus ruptured while she was sleeping and you'd had no oxygen for maybe hours on end.

It didn't matter what the doctors told her, that was all Alexia could think of.

You and the lack of oxygen in your small, tiny brain.

You were already a small baby. The doctors present at your scans had talked about it before.

You didn't grow very quickly, on the small end of what you should be.

There had already been cause of concern because of it but now, as Alexia stares through the pane of glass between you both, it's all she can think about.

You're tiny, hooked up to machines and wires and you, somehow, look smaller than all the other premature babies in the NICU.

"I..."

"She's beautiful, Ale," Eli says," So, so beautiful."

"She's sick," Alexia chokes out," Mami, I let her get sick."

"No, Ale," Eli tries to sooth her," No. She's going to be okay. This isn't anything to do with you."

"But it is." The tears are coming now. Alexia hasn't cried since everything happened, hasn't felt anything at all until this moment as she watches you in your incubator.

You don't even have a name yet.

The little identification tag on your incubator just calls you 'The Putellas Baby'.

You don't have a name and you could easily just die in here.

With no name.

"It's all my fault," Alexia says as tears drip down her cheeks onto the clenched fists in her lap," Mami, she's going to die."

There's already a nursery set up for you at home with walls a very soft light purple colour. A little crib with a pastel pink blankie to swaddle you in and a little mobile to sit above you with cute doves that are meant to chirp and sing above your head.

There's a little Barcelona onesie waiting and ready for when Alexia presents you at Barcelona's next home match.

That was meant to be the plan.

A plan that's crashing down as Alexia stares at your struggling form in the incubator in front of her.

"No, no, Ale," Eli says," She's a strong girl, just like her Mami. She's going to be just fine."

It takes ten days after your birth for Alexia to touch you.

Her hands are shaking. Her heart rate is heightened.

"Alright, Mami," The midwife says," We're going to give this little one some kangaroo care. A bit of skin-on-skin should help, alright?"

Alexia's throat bobs uneasily as she swallows. "Yeah, alright."

You seem even tinier in person. You barely weigh anything at all, like a little sheet of paper as you're placed on Alexia's chest.

For a moment, your little face scrunches up in distaste and Alexia freezes.

But you settle a second later and Alexia can feel your soft puff of air against her collarbone.

You're absolutely tiny. Tiny and weak but alive.

Alive and breathing and wholly Alexia's daughter.

Her hand comes up to cup the back of your head, softly stroking the downy hair that's grown there.

"Hola, pequeñita," She whispers as tears threaten to spill from your eyes," I'm your Mami. It's nice to finally meet you."

[danexist]

Going to actually make an addition instead of hiding in the notes because this will be LOOOONG.

So. Doctor Who: one of the longest running, most loved shows on television to date. I love it, my parent's generation love it, my great aunts and uncles love it. But this great show that's been running for longer than my father has been alive, recently, it's gone downhill according to MILLIONS of viewers.

So what made it so loveable in the first place? Well, it was a really fun show about a time-travelling alien who runs around in a blue box with a companion. That's basically the gist, if you haven't seen it. But I hear stories from my grandma even, she and her siblings would watch Doctor Who on TV after dinner whenever it was on, well, after they got a TV that was. When it wasn't on, my grandma's generation would talk about what would happen in the next season, who the Doctor would be next, everything! They knew a next season was coming for certain. And I think that's what made it a really great show for my grandma and her siblings at least, a sense of reliability.

But what's that got to do with us, here in 2024? Since 1972, a lot has changed. Channels have been added, you could tape things, record them for later, DVDs came out, and now, we are in the age of the streaming service. The show has been running since 1963, and television as a whole has changed. Through 15 Doctors, 41 seasons and 2 different renewals, it's DEFINITELY changed. But it followed mostly the same 'alien-of-the-week' format, and I'd say the new season does that, it's just how it has been excecuted.

So, the show that kids have grown up loving for the past 60 years, FOR FREE might I add, is basically hidden behind a pay wall. In Australia, we grew up with the show on the ABC. I don't actually know if the new season was ever shown on the ABC, but it sure as hell isn't on iview. To find the absolutely appalling, very very short season of television, you have to find it on Disney+. It's no longer the show you'd get on Channel 22 after Spicks and Specks, it's another streaming service 8-episode show that's going to be forgotten in 8-10 weeks.

But what in the new show is bad? What about it makes it so easy to hate? First of all, Ncuti Gatwa is a fantastic actor, but it's similar criticism to Jodie Whittaker's Doctor, great actor, terrible writing. Why is that? Well, opposed to Russell T. Davies' first seasons of Doctor Who, it is complete and utter garbage. We have gone from Rose Tyler, the girl who wrote herself into the stars because she loved the Doctor so much, to Ruby Sunday, an overall forgettable companion who could do so much better if they had better writing happening. People talk about Rogue, saying it was a really great episode of television, but look me in the eyes and say it didn't remind you of series 1, episodes 9-10, The Empty Child and The Doctor Dances or Torchwood series 1, episode 12, Captain Jack Harkness. Why is that? Because Russell T. Davies has basically just recycled the same character he wrote 20 years ago, Jack Harkness. He could have done something better, like recast the character of Jack Harkness (don't get me started on that drama, that's a whole different can of worms) with Jonathan Groff and created a seriously great few episodes, but he didn't. And to end a first series with a finale relating to episodes of television tons of the viewers don't remember or are too young to have watched, it's a crappy way to end it.

The fact that it is only 8 episodes long totally astounds me. They have been doing 22 episodes or 12 at the least per series, but this time it's different. It's nearly like they're TRYING to create an immediately laughable version of Doctor Who. I, personally believe Disney had something to do with that, but that's a different post. We used to have action-packed 22-episode series of television we could talk about until the next one came out, but now, we are simply left with an overall forgettable series of television.

Do better, BBC.

[janeyseymour]

Drunk Actions, Sober Thoughts

Summary: Janine's end of the school year party gets a little out of hand- handsy.

WC: ~3.2k

You’ve been a teacher at Abbott Elementary for a few years now, teaching alongside Gregory Eddie as a first grade teacher. And because you’re grade-level partners with one of the  more infamous teachers at the school, you become friends with that group- the group of teachers who tend to be a bit more outspoken and have more of an in with the, at times inconsistent and slightly ridiculous, principal.

You weren’t always a part of that group, but after a couple of months, they began to welcome you with open arms. The one teacher that took you under her wing the most was none other than South Philly Princess Melissa Schemmenti. The rough and tough, often hard to read, leather jacket and eyeliner wearing badass of the school grew close to you quickly once you showed her that you were here to stay.

You don’t even really understand why she took to you the way that she did, but you aren’t complaining. It’s much better to be on her good side rather than her bad side. Although, you would dare to say that she doesn’t have a bad side; she always looks phenomenal.

Because you have this in with the iconic group of Abbott Elementary, you manage to get yourself an invitation to the “party of the century” as Janine Teagues is putting it.

“You’re going, right?” Melissa asks you at lunch.

You chuckle. “Of course I’m going.” Then you lean in closer to her and Barbara. “If only to watch those two-“ You point to Janine and Gregory flirting. “-finally get their shit together.”

Barbara smirks knowingly. “I have a feeling they will.”

“One can only hope,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “They need to get their heads out of their asses and just fuck already.”

“Melissa!” the kindergarten teacher scolds as she smacks her friend’s hand.

The redhead can only shrug. She stands by what she uttered.

You just nudge the woman beside you before closing up your container and standing. “And on that note,” you laugh. “I actually do have some final things I have to finish up in the classroom, so I’ll see you all tonight.”

You leave with a small wave and a smile, and as you turn to go, Melissa’s eyes don’t leave your body.

“Girl,” Barbara’s deep voice pulls the redhead out of her trance. “You got it bad for her.”

Green eyes are rolled so hard that the kindergarten teacher is shocked they don’t get stuck that way. “I do not.”

“I have a feeling Gregory and Janine aren’t going to be the only ones who get it together tonight,” is all the kindergarten teacher mutters to her best friend.

“Oh please,” Melissa groans. “And even if I did have a thing for her, which I do not, it’d never happen. Ain’t no way a young thing like that would want… this.”

Barbara almost quips about how she’s caught you hanging onto every word that Melissa says, how your eyes rarely leave her figure when she isn’t looking, how you tend to follow her around like a lost puppy dog. But she doesn’t. Instead, Barb just shrugs.

The two older women of the friend group show up to Janine’s house an hour early to help get the place in order. And oh is it a good thing they did, at least that’s what they think. In reality, the second grade teacher had planned for that- the life of poor Janine. But they manage to get the small apartment ready in time for the party to begin.

And quietly, Barbara Howard tells herself that she’s going to play matchmaker. She’ll get Gregory and Janine together as much as possible, and she’s also going to attempt to get you and her work wife to finally see what’s going on between the two of you.

A drunk Melissa tends to be a more confident (not that she could get much more confident than she already is) and affectionate person than a sober Melissa. But in order for the redhead to get to that place of feeling good, Land Barbara knows that she’s going to have to let Sea Barbara out of her cage. So right as guests begin to arrive, the kindergarten teacher pours two shots and hands one to her work wife. The two take them in tandem, and then Barbara is mixing up two cocktails- strong cocktails.

“Jesus, Barb,” the second grade teacher grimaces as she wipes the little droplet that dribbled down her chin. “Are you tryin’ to get Sea Barbara to come out?”

The kindergarten teacher just gives an innocent smile, points to the cup, and takes another large swig of her own drink. Melissa follows. 

By the time that you show to the little apartment, the party is in full swing. Janine lets you in with a smile, Gregory by her side. You give your grade-level partner a curious look, but he shakes his head subtly.

“Come in! Come in!” the second grade teacher is all grins. “The- the party got a little hectic, and not everyone is in their assigned places, but… it’s a party!”

You just chuckle and thank Janine for hosting as you step inside. Your eyes scan the place, and in the center of the dance floor is that vibrant red hair that you were hoping to see. She’s… wow. And Barbara is right next to her dancing with a cardboard cutout of… why is Barbara dancing with a cardboard cutout of Allen Iverson?

Despite your confusion about what is taking place in the center of the room, you make your way over.

“Hey, hey,” you yell over the loud music.

“Oh my God!” Melissa yells as she practically throws herself at you. “Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for you!”

“Had dinner with my mom,” you chuckle as you hold her in your arms. Wow. She gives good hugs. And despite the fact that she’s very hot from dancing in such a small space, she smells incredible. “But I’m here now!”

“Yes you are!” Green eyes scan over your outfit, and you can’t help but notice the way that her gaze lingers on the deep neckline of your shirt. “Wow. You look incredible!”

The lights are dim enough that the redhead hopefully can’t see the blush that creeps into your cheeks. You thank God for that one.

“Barb!” Melissa taps her friend. “Look! My girl finally made it!”

Her girl? You hope that your surprise at that title doesn’t show on your face. You just smile and wave to the kindergarten teacher who already seems to be quite inebriated.

“We gotta get you a drink!” the second grade teacher grins. She’s pulling you off towards the drink section before you can even figure out what’s happening.

“Here,” Melissa pours you a rum and coke and shoves it into your hand before you can politely decline the offer.

“Oh,” you chuckle softly. “I wasn’t really planning on drinking tonight… have breakfast with my dad tomorrow morning, and don’t wanna show up too hungover.”

The redhead nods along before reaching for the solo cup and taking a sip of her own concoction. She screws her eyes shut tightly as she swallows. “Damn, I made that strong.”

You roll your eyes before taking the beverage back into your hand and taking a small sip. “Oh my…” you suck in a breath. “Wow, Mel.”

She shrugs with a smile before taking you back into the center of the party. The crowd is mostly people you know, but there are a few unfamiliar faces, or faces that maybe you weren’t quite expecting to be here.

After you ask who one person is, you find yourself being tugged alongside Melissa as she introduces you to those that you aren’t very aware of who they are. It’s hard for you to focus though, because the redhead keeps a warm hand on the small of your back almost the entire time, and whenever someone gets a bit too close to you for her liking, Melissa pulls you flush against her. Each time she does that, her grip gets just the slightest bit tighter on you. It really wouldn’t take that much more to just… lean over and kiss her cheek, or have her kiss yours. You find yourself wishing that’s what would happen, but it never does.

It also catches your attention that she almost always introduces you to everyone as ‘her girl’. You hate to admit it, but you practically glow each and every time she calls you that. You hope you aren’t being too obvious in your feelings for the redhead beside you. Even if you are though, you’re fairly certain that you’re the only relatively sober one here, and then woman clinging to you is beyond hammered at this point.

“My girl,” Melissa nearly purrs as she takes a sip from the red cup that you’ve been carrying around for her. “Thanks for holding my drink, babe.”

“Babe?” you raise your brow with a laugh.

The redhead just shrugs with a grin and shoots you a wink. She finishes it off, sets the cup on the counter, and then she’s pulling you back into the center of the party- the dance floor.

Her hands are all over your body as you dance. They find their way to your back, your hips, and then you feel a hand slip into the back pocket of your jeans as she pulls you closer.

“Mel,” you gasp out in surprise.

She pulls her hand out of your pocket immediately. “Sorry, I- sorry.”

“Eh, don’t be,” you smile at her. If she’s going to touch you, now is the time. She won’t remember it tomorrow, and it’s not like this will ever happen again. “I know I have a great ass, and the only person I would want touching it is you.” You delicately take her hand and put it back where it was.

Melissa’s perfectly drawn on brows creep up her forehead ever so slightly before she resumes her dancing.

From a few paces over, Barbara clocks that act, and she shoots the cameraman an impressed look before going back to dancing with a cardboard Allen Iverson. 

All good things must come to an end, and after about an hour of having the woman of your dreams pressed up against you tightly, practically grinding on you with her hand in your back pocket and squeezing gently from time to time, the party begins to die out. People begin to say their goodbyes, Janine is starting to clean things up, and you see that it’s probably your cue to start heading home for the night. You glance at the clock on the wall, and it’s nearing two in the morning.

The redhead still right by your side, holding onto your arm, whines slightly when the music goes off. She doesn’t extract her hand from your pocket though.

“I think it’s about time we start heading out,” you chuckle gently.

“But I’m having a great time,” Melissa mumbles against your neck.

Your cheeks once again heat up at feeling her hot breath against your skin. Still, you shake your head, and you glance over to Barbara who is attempting to find her shoes that she discarded long ago.

“Barb, how are you getting home?”

“Oh I called Gerald,” the kindergarten teacher promises you.

“Can I hitch a ride?” Melissa asks her work wife. “I don’ wanna get into an Uber like this.”

Barbara, who would usually always take her best friend home, shakes her head though. “Melissa, I am exhausted, and I need to get to bed. I’m sure Y/N will take you home though, right dear?”

You nod. “Yeah, I can take Mel back,” you smile. “Not a problem at all.”

The redhead, in her drunken state, just grins and kisses your cheek before sticking her tongue out at her work wife. “Hear that, Barbie? I don’ need you to give me a ride- not when I have my girl here with me.”

The lights of course turn on before the blush dissipates from your cheeks, and there’s a small stain of where Melissa had kissed your cheek.

“Alright, Mel, let’s start heading out, yeah?” you chuckle softly.

Her hand only leaves your back pocket briefly to hug Barb goodbye, and then it’s slipped right back to where it’s been for the last hour. “You ready to take me home?”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Let’s go, hun.”

You get her to your car, and then when she struggles with the buckle, you can’t help the slight giggle that escapes your lips. She turns to you with a pout.

“Oh, don’t do that,” you laugh softly. With ease, you clip the seatbelt. “Alright, Mel. You gotta direct me.”

She gets you back to her house with ease, although you can’t help but be the slightest bit distracted because while her hand isn’t resting in your back pocket anymore, it’s sitting on your knee and every once in a while glides up to your thigh. Her thumb rubs circles on your jeans warmly, and you can feel her gaze on you.

You pull in to her driveway and smile at her softly.

“I don’t want tonight to end,” Melissa sighs quietly. “Would you want to come in?”

Silently, you turn the key to turn your car off and climb out. You’re at her side a few seconds later, opening the door and holding out a hand to help her out of the car.

The two of you walk up to her house hand in hand, and then Melissa is pulling her keys from her purse. She fumbles with the lock for a few seconds, and then when she pulls the keys out of the lock, she drops them. 

You lean down to pick them up, and when you stand back up, her lips are on your own. It takes a second for your brain to catch up to your body, but the second it does, you’re kissing her back. It’s only a few seconds, but it’s everything you could’ve imagined and more. But you know she’s nowhere near sober.

“Melissa,” you whisper.

Her hand cups your cheek and pulls you in again. You can taste the rum that she was drinking earlier on in the night, but you can’t find yourself to care. Despite the fact that your brain is screaming at you to stop kissing a drunk Melissa, you can’t stop. 

She pushes the door open, and before you know it, you’re pinned up against the wall, and her lips are hungrily on your neck, teeth just barely grazing your collarbone. Her hands and wandering all over your body.

When you realize that she isn’t going to stop any time soon, you know you have to put your foot down. You’re not about to cross a boundary- not when she’s absolutely hammered.

“Mel, you gotta-” You sigh softly. “You gotta stop.”

“I don’t want to,” she whines.

You pull her face away from your chest gently. “And I don’t want you to, but… you’re not in the right state of mind.”

“I’m in the perfect state of mind,” the redhead tells you. “I- I want you.”

“Not like this,” you tell her firmly. “Not when you’re hammered out of your mind. I’m not going to take advantage of you like this.”

“You wouldn’t be,” she continues to try to convince you to keep going.

You shake your head. “Mel, I- I care about you a lot. I don’t want you making a mistake that you aren’t going to want to face tomorrow.”

“It ain’t a mistake,” she tells you. “I been into you since you started workin’ at Abbott. Just didn’t think you’d be into this.”

“Oh, I am,” you chuckle, and you feel the red in your ears, your cheeks, and your chest. “But I think that maybe we should talk about this later… not while you’re drunk.”

“Drunk words and actions are sober thoughts,” Melissa tells you.

You roll your eyes. “I know, hun. I know. But I- I think we need to have a real conversation about this tomorrow.”

“Fine,” the redhead pouts. “But I still don’t want this night to end.”

You smile at her softly. “Why don’t we just hang out then?”

She nods against you, and she pulls you up to her bedroom.

“Melissa.”

“Not for that,” she waves you off. “Just want to change, figured you would want to change too.” She throws a tee and shorts your way.

You make your way to the bathroom and change before knocking on the bedroom door before entering. When you walk in, Melissa is propped up in her bed and scrolling on her phone.

You sit next to her, and your coworker rolls her eyes. “You don’t gotta be so stiff. I ain’t gonna try nothin’ right now. Just want to relax.”

You sigh softly, but you move slightly closer to her. You set your alarm just in case you end up falling asleep here, and then you set your phone down.

“I really do like you, you know. I don’t just want sex from you,” Melissa tells you. “Just needed some liquid courage.”

“I believe you,” you yawn out quietly. “Just don’t want you making a decision while you’re in this state.”

“See, and that’s what I love about you,” the redhead sets her phone down, takes her glasses off, and lays herself down. “You’re you- warm, sweet, considerate, caring… stunning to look at.”

“Get some sleep,” you chuckle softly.

Melissa yawns. “Don’t go tonight though.”

“I won’t,” you promise. “But I do have to slip out early tomorrow morning to meet my dad, so please don’t be concerned if I have to leave before you wake up.”

“I won’t,” your coworker says sleepily. Her eyes close, and she’s sound asleep within minutes.

The next morning, you wake up before your alarm. Your body is practically underneath Melissa- her arms are wound around your waist tightly, her head rests on your chest, and there’s a smile on her lips as she sleeps. It’s hard to tell where her body ends and yours begins.

You shimmy slightly just to turn off your alarm so it doesn’t wake her. Gently, so gently, you untangle yourself from her and slip out of the bed. You gather your things as quietly as you can, and you somehow manage to make your way out of the bedroom without waking her.

Once you’re in the living room, you manage to find a pad and pencil and write her a short, but sweet, note.

I had to slip out to meet my dad for breakfast, but I’ll come by after. We can talk then, because I really do want to talk about the things that happened last night. 

You sign your name with a scrawled out heart, and then you exit the house, mind swirling with what journey you could possibly be embarking on with the redhead of your dreams if she was serious about the things she said last night. 

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead

[atlabeth]

unadulterated loathing (pt 1)

pairing: fiyero tigelaar x fem reader

summary: you are forced to partner up with fiyero on a history project. things don’t go as you imagine.

a/n: wicked was really good, i love jonathan bailey, and we're coming up on finals season which means im writing about how stressed i am. also halfway through this i realized reader is lowkey paris geller coded lmao. this got away from me so im splitting it into 2 parts, i had a lot of fun writing it so enjoy! also im high posting this so if there's any editing issues im sorry lol!!

wc: 5.5k

warning(s): reader is stressed to the max constantly. she is kinda mean to fiyero but he's into it so it's okay. mostly fluff

Your fingers were beginning to cramp. 

You should have been used to this by now with Doctor Dillamond. You’d been in his class for a few months now, and you graded essays for him often. He often had a propensity for verbosity, but this lecture had been an especially hefty one in preparation for your midterm projects.

He would be announcing partners before the end of class—much to your dismay, for you worked far better on your own than with others holding you down—and you figured you would want to have as much of a head start as possible. 

Great Oz, how you hoped you would be paired with one of your friends. Coralie and Ezura were your only contenders for top of the class—Elphaba had potential as well, not because of the magic she couldn’t control but because of the brain she very well could—and anyone else would frankly slow you down. Doing a large research paper with someone who didn’t care as much as you did would be a drag you didn’t care to go through. 

Midterms were only the most important thing, for they set the track towards finals and affirmed your skill with your assignments, and your first midterm was potentially the most important thing for, when completed successfully, set you on the correct track altogether. 

You tried not to think about it too much (though you failed almost immediately), for you were sure Doctor Dillamond would honor all the work you’d done for him by putting you with a suitable partner. 

“I see some of you are getting restless, so I will cut class short today.” Your eyes snapped up from your paper to see the professor smiling, and you could hear sighs of relief around the room. “I’m sure you’re all eager to know your partners for the midterm paper.” 

The sighs of relief turned to groans, and you had to agree. Assigned partners should have been considered archaic at this point in time. 

Doctor Dillamond trotted back to the projector and, with a bit of difficulty, replaced the image with a piece of paper. Everybody in the class was paired off in groups of two—you immediately started searching for your name, squinting slightly to see despite your spot in the front, and the furrow between your brows deepened when you realized you couldn’t find it. 

You searched instead for your hopeful options. Coralie was with Mayara, Ezura was with Nicholas, Elphaba was with Galinda—of course. You let out a slight huff of annoyance, not just at your disappointment but at the continued lack of your name. 

Perhaps he’d merely forgotten. You didn’t know how Dillamond could have forgotten you, seeing as you were only his best student and literal TA, but things happened. Your anxieties only grew as you heard the beginnings of whispers throughout the room as your classmates saw their pairings, either excited or dismal. 

“Class is dismissed,” Doctor Dillamond said. The room began bustling as students gathered their things, already talking with their friends or searching out their project partner—you heard Galinda squeal and saw her grab Elphaba’s hands out of your peripherals. You could only worry your lip between your teeth as you swept everything in your bag, hardly waiting a second before rushing up to Dillamond’s desk. 

“You didn’t call my name, professor,” you said, managing a smile as you tried to act like it wasn’t killing you. How could he have not called your name? Was there something wrong? Great Oz— had you been somehow moved out of the class? Was your work not exemplary enough? Your assistance not assisting enough? “I don’t have a partner.” 

His mouth opened, but you only found yourself continuing, the words practically tumbling out of you.  

“Of course, if you intended for me to be on my own then I am perfectly alright with that!” Your smile widened as your fingertips dangled over his desk. “I— I prefer it, in fact, so if that is it then there is really no issue at all—”

“Mr. Tigelaar!” he interrupted, and your head turned on instinct to see the eponymous boy arm in arm with Galinda (who was arm in arm with Elphaba) just in front of the door. “I hope you are not about to leave.”

Fiyero flashed a look at his companions before offering one of those easy smiles he seemed to always have up his sleeve. “You dismissed the class. I believe I am part of your class, am I not?”

“You are,” he said, “but you were not assigned a partner. Surely you wouldn’t be trying to get out of the project.”

Your free hand clenched as the threads started to connect. Doctor Dillamond wouldn’t do this to you. Would he?

That easy smile remained on his lips as he turned to Galinda and whispered something in her ear. She giggled and pecked him on the cheek before she walked out, pulling Elphaba behind her, and Fiyero sauntered over. 

“Of course I’m not trying to get out of it,” he said. “Whyever would you think so?”

“Your attempt at a quick exit before you could be assigned a partner,” the professor said. “But it is no matter, for your partner is right here.”

You blinked. He would do this to you.

Why would he do this to you?

“Well, pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand. “Fiyero Tigelaar.”

You ignored him, for you couldn’t look away from Doctor Dillamond. Would it be mad for you to strangle a Goat?

“Professor,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, “why?”

“Mr. Tigelaar’s grades in my class have not been satisfactory, as I’m sure he is aware.” Dillamond moved away from his desk, prodding the chalkboard with his head to move it out of the way. “I care about all my students, even if they seem not to care for my course. I believe a partnership for the two of you would be beneficial.”

Your jaw clenched. “So you’re forcing me to tutor him because he hasn’t got a brain.”

Fiyero chuckled. “Ouch.”

“Not tutoring, just working on your midterm together,” he said. “And if you end up teaching him a few things along the way, then we would all be better off, wouldn’t we?” 

“Professor, with all due respect, this is ridiculous!” you exclaimed. “Why should I have to risk my grade, my midterm, my standing altogether at Shiz just to help him?” 

“Should you perform the way that is typical of you, there should be no issues.” Doctor Dillamond gave you that professorly look and your teeth grinded against each other. How dare he try to take the moral high ground. “Now, the two of you better hurry off. You haven’t got forever to work on this project.” 

“Professor,” you whispered, determined to not let up, “why are you punishing me like this?”

“I’m not punishing you, my dear.”

“Fiyero couldn’t care less about any of this,” you insisted. “I’m going to fail my midterm and it will be all his fault!”

“If you believe he can make you fail, then you haven’t got as much faith in yourself as I believed.” Doctor Dillamond looked at you. “Trust me—and yourself—that this will all work out.”

You stared back—it was rather difficult to have a staring contest with a Goat. “I don’t suppose I can change your mind on this?”

“You’d be correct.”

You huffed and glanced away. “Fine. But expect those test scores to take an extra day.”

He let out a bleaty sort of laugh while you walked away. You considered it a credit to yourself that you held back the childish tantrum you wanted to throw as you moved back over to your desk to gather the rest of your things. You shoved your books into your bag with a bit more anger than necessary, and you heard footsteps behind you. You glanced over to see Fiyero sidled up beside you, leaning against the desk next to yours. 

“Surely you won’t be this irritated at me the entirety of our project.” He still had that unbothered smile on his lips, and it made you want to hit him. “It might make this a much more miserable partnership.”

You let out a mirthless laugh as you shouldered your bag. “Don’t act like this pains you. You’re just going to ride my coattails the entire time.” 

“You know, I hadn’t even thought of that,” Fiyero mused. “But now that you bring it up, I just may have to.” 

“For the love of Oz,” you muttered to yourself before mustering the strength to look up at him. “I have a myriad of things I need to do today. Why don’t you go bother your girlfriend for the rest of the day, and then you can meet me at the library first thing tomorrow morning so we can discuss all of this.” 

He shrugged. “Sounds alright to me.” 

“Good,” you said. “Because I meant every word I said back there. I will not have you ruining all my progress thus far because of your absolute refusal to think.” 

“It looks as if you could take a page out of my book,” Fiyero said. “You seem awfully stressed.” 

Your lips tightened into a mirthless smile. “I’m stressed because of you, Fiyero, and we have hardly even interacted. I dread to think of my mental state after a week of working together. Now, good day. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

You swept past him and walked out of Doctor Dillamond’s classroom. You felt his eyes on you until you turned the corner, and you had to resist the urge to look back. 

Oh, how you loathed group projects. 

-

The rest of your day was far more demanderating than it should have been, and you blamed Fiyero for it. You swore the clock went by half as quick and your lectures twice as long—it didn’t help that you were so distracted in chemistry that you nearly burned your eyebrows off from a potion gone wrong. 

You’d practically thrown yourself onto your bed when you got back to your dorm, and you didn’t get up until your roommate got back and demanded to know what had gotten into you. She didn’t exactly give you the response you wanted. 

“The prince is your partner?” Coralie sighed dreamily. “Oh, you are so lucky.” 

“Lucky is not the way I’d put it,” you mumbled, words muffled by the sheets. You finally tore yourself up off your bed and picked your nightgown up from atop your dresser. You went behind your folding sheet and began to change. “And I didn’t know you had eyes for Fiyero.” 

“I hardly have eyes for him,” she said wryly. “I just have eyes—anyone can see that he’s attractive.” 

“It doesn’t matter how attractive he is if he makes me fail this midterm,” you said. You straightened your nightgown then folded your school uniform while you walked back into the open, passing a glance at your roommate as you placed it on your desk. You then settled on your bed with a huff. “I just don’t understand why Doctor Dillamond is punishing me like this. It makes me reconsider all those late nights spent grading papers for him.” 

Coralie shrugged. “You’re one of his best students, Fiyero is probably one of his worst. I bet Doctor Dillamond figured you would be happy to take him on, what with how happily you take on everything else he throws at you.” 

You grumbled as you laid back against your pillows. “I just don’t know if I can take him on. Fiyero seems to care more about flirting with every student at this school than any actual material.” 

She gave you a mischievous smile. “Maybe he’ll turn the full force of his affections on you in return for your studiousness. Oh, how that would be a sight to see.” 

“Don’t even put that idea into the air, Cora,” you scoffed. “Besides, he’s clearly involved with Galinda. Even if I was interested, which I’m not—” you emphasized with a pointed look at her— “that isn’t something I want to touch.” 

“Well, you can’t deny that he’s dreamy,” she said. “He just showed up at Shiz and people started falling left and right. It’s more impressive that you haven’t.” 

“Because I’m here for one reason,” you said. “His whole… thing doesn’t fit into any of it.” 

“I know,” Coralie mused as she fell back onto her pillows. “You’ve told me your whole plan ten times over. I just think you should also try to enjoy your life instead of bulldozing your way through it.” 

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “I’m enjoying my life just fine, thank you.” 

Interestingly enough, Fiyero was going through something similar a myriad of rooms away. 

He laid on Galinda’s bed, his head in her lap as she trailed her fingers through his hair. She’d been going on about something for the last couple of minutes, but he hadn’t really been able to focus on any of it. 

“Dearest, did you not hear what I said?” 

Fiyero blinked at the sound of Galinda’s voice. He hadn’t indeed. 

“I’m sorry, beloved.” He absentmindedly reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze once he found it. “I was thinking.” 

Elphaba laughed from across the room. She sat on her bed with a book in her lap. “That’s a first for you.” 

“It is,” Galinda said, though with much more concern laced in her voice. Her hand moved from his hair to his forehead. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Just fine,” he assured. “What was it you were saying?” 

“Just lamenting on how awful it is that we’ve been separated for this project,” she sighed. “I’m sure I could persuade Doctor Dillamond to put us in a group of three.”

“You can’t even get him to pronounce your name correctly,” Elphaba said wryly. “How could you get him to do this?” 

“Well,” Galinda huffed, “maybe you could do it. He appears to like you more than me.” 

“I’m sure that really hurts,” she said. 

Galinda placed her hand on her chest. “It does!” 

“It’s fine,” Fiyero interrupted. “I’m alright with my partner. She’s nice.” 

“Nice?” Elphaba scoffed. “I heard her lecturing you the whole time we were out in the hallway.” 

“She’s passionate,” he decided. “Besides, I don’t really care. I haven’t thought about it since she left.” 

That was a complete lie. In truth, Fiyero hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you since you left. Very strange for someone who preferred to go through life with less thinking and more doing. 

He honestly didn’t know why his mind was so occupied with you. 

He’d always been aware of you, obviously—all your professors adored you, your name was always brought up when talking about top of the class, and he was sure you held the record for most time spent in the library at once—but he didn’t know anything about you other than your academic record. And for someone with such strong opinions, especially about him, Fiyero found himself with the strange need to know more. 

He would be at the library tomorrow. Maybe not on time, but certainly there. 

Fiyero would make this the beginning of a beautiful partnership, one way or another.

-

True to your word, you were in the library bright and early after a quick stop at the dining hall. You went through the effort of gathering everything you thought you would need—a myriad of textbooks and encyclopedias, your well-weathered notebook and another one for Fiyero because you doubted he had one, and enough writing material for the two of you.

You sighed. You had to do so much just to even the ground between your groups and the others. Coralie was always so prepared whenever you worked together. 

Fiyero, to your surprise, was only ten minutes late. You already had your head buried in a book when he said your name and scared you witless. 

Your eyes widened as they darted up to look at him, and he chuckled. 

“Sorry. You were in the zone.”

“I just wasn’t expecting you,” you said. “You’re late.”

“Hardly.” Fiyero took the seat across from you, his eyes sweeping over everything you had on the table. “You’ve got quite a collection.”

“I doubt you know your way around the library,” you said. 

“I know my way around a lot of things.” 

You leveled your gaze at him. Leave it to Fiyero to make everything an innuendo. “And is a library one of them?”

“I’m sure I could make it one.”

“If you bothered to think at all.”

“Darling, you know I’d never,” he said with a smile. “Now, what are we doing here?”

“Do you really not know what our midterm is?” you marveled. 

“I have more important things to worry about,” he said. 

You scoffed and shook your head. Ridiculous— it was ridiculous that you had to put up with this. Maybe Doctor Dillamond really did hate you.

“Our assignment is an extensively researched ten page paper on any great Ozian,” you said. “Anyone who has contributed to our society in a relevant way and made our lives better for it.”

“A ten page paper?” Fiyero frowned. “That seems a bit much.”

“Between the two of us, it’s just five pages each, and we’ve got two weeks to get it done,” you said. “I’ve written five pages in a few hours of inspiration.”

“Your life truly sounds thrilling,” Fiyero said. “We could do the Wizard.”

“Half the class is going to do the wizard,” you scoffed. 

“Because he’s a great man,” he said. “There’s no shame in it.”

“There is absolutely shame in copying half the class,” you said as you pushed over a sheet of paper to him. “Now, I’ve already got a list going. Look it over; see if there’s anyone you like or anyone worthwhile you want to add.”

You looked back down at your encyclopedia, opened to your personal favorite choice, and continued scribbling down basic notes. You glanced up a few moments later to see Fiyero’s gaze hadn’t wavered from you. 

You frowned. “Is there a problem?”

“You’re awfully prepared,” he said instead. 

“I figured you wouldn’t be,” you responded.

Fiyero’s lips quirked in a smile. “Then I believe that means you deserve to choose our subject.”

Your frown deepened. “Really?”

“Are you always this suspicious of everyone?”

“Just you.”

“Then consider this an olive branch,” he said. He slid the paper back over. “Who’s your top choice?”

“…Ilara Mayfair,” you finally said as you pointed at her on the top of your list. “She was a historical linguist, responsible for half of what we know about Ozian languages and how they connect and differ. She’s…” you cleared your throat and shrugged, trying to make it sound like it wasn’t a big deal, “she’s kind of my hero.”

“Your hero?” Fiyero’s eyebrows rose. “Is that what you want to do?” 

“…It’s always been my dream,” you admitted. “I grew up helping around my parents’ bookstore and her mark was on nearly everything. I really admire it. I want to make that sort of difference in the world.”

“How noble,” he remarked. What surprised you was how genuine he sounded. “It’s impressive how much of your life you have planned out already. All Galinda knows is that she’s majoring in sorcery—she hasn’t really got anything else worked out.”

“What are you majoring in?” you asked.

“Undecided,” Fiyero said. “I was kicked out of my last school before I could declare, so I figure there’s not really a point in doing it here.”

“Not really a surprise,” you said. 

“Really?”

“On your first day, you snuck off campus with half of Shiz to go dance at Ozdust,” you said. “That’s not exactly a good first impression.” 

“I’d argue the opposite,” he said. Fiyero tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he focused on you for a moment. His gaze made you uncomfortably aware of yourself. “I don’t recall seeing you there.” 

“That’s because I wasn’t there.” You looked back down at your encyclopedia to avoid his eyes. “I had more important things to do.” 

He frowned. “Do you ever take a day off?” 

“Of course,” you said. “There isn’t any class on the weekends.” 

“I mean with this,” he said, gesturing at all the books around you. “It doesn’t seem like you allow yourself a single moment of respite. When you’re not in class, you’re studying. When you’re not studying, you’re doing work. When you’re not doing any of it, you’re probably dreaming of your future assignments.” 

You felt your skin heat. Surely you weren’t that transparent. 

“...I don’t dream of them,” you defended. “Not— not always.” 

He laughed and shook his head. “You’re ridiculous. Do you know that?” 

You frowned. “How am I ridiculous? You’re incapable of taking a single thing seriously.” 

“And you’re incapable of not taking everything seriously,” Fiyero said. “It can’t be good for your health.” 

“I plan to get out of here a year early,” you said, looking back at your books. “I can’t slack off like you do if I want that plan to come to fruition.” 

“Oh, I’ve gotten out of every school I’ve been in a year early,” Fiyero said. “Sometimes two or three— Oz, sometimes I don’t even make it through the first semester.” 

Your eyes snapped back up to him, widened in instinctual panic. “What?” 

He burst out laughing, and it grinded every one of your gears. “Oh, I wish you could see the look on your face! It’s priceless— truly priceless!” 

“You’ve been kicked out of every school you’ve been to and you think it’s a joke?” 

Still laughing, he shrugged. “It is. Nothing bad has happened, and I’m still having the time of my life wherever I go.” 

You just shook your head as you stared at him, eyes still wide. “Are you always like this?”

“Utterly charming?” 

“Entirely insufferable.”

You didn’t understand how he laughed. Everything rolled right off him, like oil off a duck’s back, no matter how many times you insulted him. 

“You know, there are other things to life than your studies,” he said.

“Not while I’m here, there isn’t,” you said. “It’s the whole point of university.” 

“The point of university is to have fun,” he said. “You’ve seen how this place has perked up since I’ve gotten here, haven’t you?” 

“Not really, no,” you said. “I’ve been more focused on other things.” 

“Like?” 

“Like my studies.” 

“It’s like I’m talking to a broken record,” he marveled. “Have you ever had fun in your life?” His eyes widened comically. “Do you even know what the concept of fun is?” 

“Ha ha,” you said dryly. 

He tilted his head. “Do you?” 

You frowned. “Of course I do.” 

“Okay, then.” Fiyero leaned back in his chair. “Tell me about yourself.”

Your frown deepened. “We aren’t doing a research paper on me.”

“We’re working together on this,” he said. “Is it a crime to want to know my partner?”

A muscle worked in your jaw as you stared at him. He stared back, entirely unaffected. 

“If I humor you, will you actually work with me through this?”

Fiyero held up his hand. “Prince’s honor.”

Finally, you broke. You folded your arms with a short sigh then glanced away. “Fine. I’m from a tiny village in Gillikin that you’ve probably never heard of. I’m here on scholarship with the plan to graduate, become a historian, and make a name for myself.” You looked back at him. “Is that good enough for you?”

“It’s excellent,” Fiyero said with a smile. “Dare I say I’ve learned more about you in one short day than I have in the entirety of my time at Shiz?”

You gave him a fake smile as you tapped your book. “Open your textbook. We have a lot to catch up on.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re not going to ask about me?”

“I mean this with all due respect—what could there possibly be to know about you?” You raised an eyebrow as you counted off on your fingers. “You’re from the Vinkus, you’re a prince, and you’ve never read a book a day in your life.” 

“Oh, that’s not true,” he chastised. “I’ve read at least one—I just choose not to.” 

“Well, how about we make that two?” You reached across the table and opened his book for him. “Unless that prince’s honor isn’t worth a thing.” 

“Oh, it’s worth everything,” Fiyero said. 

You raised your eyebrows expectantly. “Then prove it.” 

“Very well,” he nodded. “I believe I can be serious for the next… fifteen minutes.” 

“You won’t even get through a chapter,” you said. “Thirty.” 

Fiyero frowned. “You set awfully high expectations.” 

“Why do you think Doctor Dillamond forced me to help you?” you asked. 

“Because you’re oh so nice and charitable?”

That got a genuine laugh out of you. If you’d been looking closer, you would have seen Fiyero’s smile grow, his eyes soften. 

“Of course. Now, go to the glossary, find Ilara, and start writing. I know practically everything about her already, so you need to catch up.”

“I don’t have—”

You held out your extra notebook and fountain pen and cocked your head. “Don’t have what?”

Fiyero chuckled as he took them from you. “You’re prepared for everything, aren’t you?”

“Always,” you said with a satisfied smile. “Now get reading, my prince.”

He pressed his hand to his chest and bowed his head. “At once, my lady.”

-

You looked at the clock on the wall. Fiyero should have been here by now. 

Granted, he was ten minutes late to your first meeting, but that was before he’d changed your expectations ever so slightly. Almost an hour had passed, and there was still no sign. 

Of course, it wasn’t as if it hindered your progress. You kind of always expected him to fall short—if he showed at all, that was a credit to him—so you already had half the outline done. But a small part of you that you’d never admit to might have actually been looking forward to his presence. 

You enjoyed the bout of verbal sparring he engaged you in. A lot of your classmates thought you were mean, and it never bothered you. Like you told Fiyero, you were here for one reason and one only, and the amount of people that liked you at university didn’t influence that at all. Your professors liked you and your grades were perfect—that was all. 

But you couldn’t lie and say it wasn’t… nice. For Fiyero to take everything you said in stride, with a smile and a retort of equal measure.

It was nice. But that was all. 

You were jarred out of your thoughts by someone calling your name. You looked up to see Fiyero sauntering over, bearing his usual smile and not much else.

“This is a library,” you said once he got closer. “You aren’t supposed to shout.”

He took the seat across from you. “I’d hardly call that shouting.”

“You aren’t meant to be loud,” you decided. “Why are you so late?”

Fiyero shrugged. “I lost track of time?”

“You know, we are partners,” you emphasized your last word, “so it would be helpful if you could try to put in the same amount of effort as me.”

“That seems impossible.” He gestured at your notebook with his head, your current page already nearly full. “You’ve got me beat on nearly everything.”

“It’s not that difficult,” you intoned. “I mean, just do some research outside of class.”

He stared at you expectantly, and you rolled your eyes. “I don’t know what I expect with you, honestly.”

“Exactly what you see, darling. Now,” Fiyero's gaze drifted over to the window, then looked back at you as he stood up, “what do you say we put a hold on things and enjoy this beautiful day?” 

Your brows furrowed. “What, you mean do our research outside?” 

“Is your work truly all you think about?” he asked in exasperation. “I mean leave the books and your notes and your stress here, and take a stroll around campus.” 

“I’ve had my entire life planned out since I was ten years old,” you said. “Of course it is. I am not going to have some— some—”

“Some what?” Fiyero interrupted. He still looked remarkably unaffected by your outburst, that sideways smile of his infuriatingly charming. 

“Some ridiculous, pompous, self-absorbed, lazy Winkie prince ruin it!” you exclaimed. 

“Lazy,” he mused. “That’s a new one.” 

“Of course you’re lazy! Why would we take a break when we have a project to do?” 

Fiyero looked at you like you were crazy— no, like he was worried about you. He shook his head. “You really do have a one track mind.” 

“When we’re in midterm season, yes, I d— what are you doing?”

Fiyero had started stacking all of the books you had on the table away from you, then he grabbed your notebook and your pen out of your hand.

“You need a break,” he said. 

“I don’t need a break, and give that back—”

You reached for your materials but only just grazed his hand before he pulled them back and set them on top of the pile. “When was the last time you saw the sun?” 

You scoffed. “I see the sun all the time.” 

“Not from a window in the library or your dorm.” 

You bit your tongue. Fiyero smiled and held out his hand. 

“You need a break.” 

You stared at his hand. He gave you a cloying look. 

“It’s not a good sign that you’re this against self-care,” he said wryly. 

You sighed and reluctantly placed your hand in his. “Fine.”

Fiyero grinned and he pulled you close. You yelped at the unexpected speed and you tumbled into his chest. Fiyero’s hand dropped to your waist, and for a moment all you could do was stare at him, wide eyed. 

“Shall we?” he murmured. 

You jolted away from him once you came back into yourself, your skin burning where he’d touched you. 

“We shall,” you said, a bit too forcefully as you started walking a bit too fast. 

Fiyero chuckled. He matched your pace easily, soon coming up beside you. “You’re already that excited?”

“Oh, shut up,” you bit out. “You’ve already gotten what you want. No need for more.”

He feigned naivety. “What would I possibly be doing?”

You shook your head with a huff. “I’m not entertaining that with a response.”

Fiyero simply hummed. You glanced over at him, still staying even with you, and then you let out another huff as you stopped. He didn’t miss a beat, pausing at the same time as you, then met your flustered expression with a smile. 

“Yes?”

“You’re the one that wanted to do this,” you said, gesturing in front of you with a hand. “So lead the way.”

“Gladly,” he said. “I’m very good at taking the lead.”

Fiyero started walking and, though you had half a mind to take the opportunity and dart back to the library, you found yourself following him. 

Cora’s words spun around your head as you and Fiyero walked together, about him turning the full force of his flirting on you in return for you being such a stickler for your midterm. 

That was the embarrassing thing; you didn’t even think this was half of it, and he already had you blushing—and for what? It was as if you’d never even talked to a boy before. 

You’d had plenty of experience back home. Village boys coming into your parents’ store to flirt at you, leaving notes in your desk in class, offering to walk you home at night—plenty of experience. 

It didn’t matter that you denied them all and never went anywhere because you had a one track mind even then, and that Fiyero had done what no one else had and gotten you take a break simply because he asked nicely—

You sucked in a sharp breath as Fiyero’s arm suddenly pressed against your chest, stopping you in place. Your head snapped up to look at him, mouth already open with questions loaded, but he gestured with his head before you could ask any of them. 

You’d nearly barreled right down the stairs from being lost in your head, without care nor consideration for actually taking the steps. 

“Mind the gap, darling,” he said. “Wouldn’t want you damaging that brain of yours.”

“…Thank you,” you said once you’d regained the ability to speak words again. “One of us ought to have one.”

Fiyero laughed as he took his arm away. “Certainly.” He used it to gesture down the stairs. “Ladies first—unless you’re unsure of your ability to conquer them.”

“I’ll be just fine, Fiyero.” You started the descent, Fiyero right behind you, and you let out another short sigh. 

There had to be something wrong with you. That was the only explanation for why you were acting this way.

Maybe you really did need to start getting more sleep. 

[glamourscat]

Could you please write Bruce and batboys getting jealous when they meet their crush's ex boyfriend? Her ex is as rich as Bruce, handsome and a total green flag. But they broke up in a friendly term. Upon meeting him they got jealous seeing reader and her ex are still super close. Thank you ❤️

Batboys + Bruce and their jealousy while meeting your ex

Author's Note: I decided to do a mix of a headcanon and a drabble for this one, I think it fits the vibes of the request. i hope you like it :) This is also so damn long but i am a yapper at heart

DICK GRAYSON

I see Dick as a very confident individual. I mean, he is self aware, he is beautiful, rich and overall a good guy. A catch right? (let's ignore the cheating for a moment...)

Though, Dick grew up in a rather unstable situation, to say the least. I see him as a person who craves his s/o attention on him, not necessarely 24/7, but enough to remind him "hey, I am here and I love you"

Still, when he does get jealous ━━ for example in this scenario where you're his crush and he is meeting your ex, who's as equally as handsome as him, not that he would admit to it. Rich as Bruce and a green flag on top of that?━━ damn, he is cooked lol.

His jealousy will probably stem from insecurity. Because, if this guy is rich, beautiful and a green flag too, what does Dick have to offer now? If they are on the same level, or worse, your ex is slightly higher than him ━━ truly, what cards are left for him to play?

And so, I think he would feel insecure for a moment and thats where being overly into PDA comes into place. MORE UNDER THE CUT

"You’re awfully close today. I mean, it’s not like I’m complaining, but… are you sure you're alright, Dick?" you say with a small, soft chuckle as you look at the black-haired guy who just linked his arm with yours.

"Yeah… yeah, of course! Why wouldn’t I be?" he says, offering a smile that’s a bit too tight, a bit too forced for your liking. It’s not like you're a fool; you know exactly what the problem is. You saw the way he reacted when, walking casually through Gotham, you two happened to run into your ex by pure coincidence.

His eye twitched slightly, and his gaze was darting back and forth between you and your ex. You noticed the way his arm tightened around your waist, as if to say, Back off. If you had any doubts about whether he liked you before, now you have your answer.

JASON TODD

When I think of Jay, I imagine a healed version of him. I know people like to imagine him as this broken soul, and I’m not saying he isn’t; he has his fair share of trauma. But I like to think that from coming back as Red Hood to now, the present Jason Todd, he is a changed man.

He’s no longer the insecure, abrasive teen who swore nothing but vengeance and payback for what happened to him. He has accepted what happened; that doesn’t mean he forgot, nor does this mean he forgives Bruce. It just means he has the emotional capacity to be more confident in his own being.

So, how would he react upon meeting his crush’s ex? Well, chances are, if you’re Jason’s crush, you two are friends. He’s good at many things, but flirting, romance, and putting himself out there are not some of those. By being close friends, he is probably already aware of some aspects of your past, including your ex.

Thus, when he meets your ex, he is probably as nonchalant as ever. Does he feel a bit jealous? Maybe. Will those insecurities that have haunted and stained his past try to resurface, making him second-guess himself? Also yes. But he has grown enough to know he’s better than that.

"Jay?" Your voice is soft as feathers as you look at him. His green-blue eyes are focused on browsing the books on the shelves in front of you two, as silence fills the air in the small bookshop where you two had, by chance, met your ex just moments prior.

"Hm?" he hums, not taking his eyes off the books, but keeping an eye on you with his peripheral vision.

"Are you okay? You're awfully quiet. Did I say something wrong, or…?" You trail off, but he cuts you off.

"Nope, nothing's wrong. I'm just looking for a book," he says, moving to the romance section. "You like this?" His voice is quiet, yet it holds a softness to it as he shows you a book he damn well knows is your favorite.

"I mean, yeah. It’s my favorite. Why?" Your tone is slightly confused, just as quiet as his.

He shrugs as he places the book in the small hand basket he’s holding. "Nothing. Just thought I’d buy it. I trust you and your opinion. If you say it’s good, then it is."

He knows that in that moment, not giving in, not allowing those negative emotions to resurface as they did in the past, was the best choice he could’ve made if it meant seeing your smile—so timid yet flustered—with those rosy cheeks of yours, as you try to hide your giddiness from his words.

TIM DRAKE

Ah, my favorite little gremlin. The issue I have with Tim is not with Tim himself, but with the fandom that constantly mischaracterizes him.

I’m not even going to get into the coffee addict recurring joke, but I want to focus on one thing. "Precious bean Tim". This guy is absolutely unhinged. Dick, Jason, and Damian all had their moments, but Tim? His whole being is centered around being a sarcastic, witty little shit who does the most unhinged things, and somehow, people always give him a pass. (I mean... do we need to talk about his red robin run? Or when he was dating two people at once? Or when it's canon that at first impression people feel judged by him?)

My point is, Tim is literally out of his mind lol. He struggles a lot with his emotions, we see this in his Red Robin run, how obsessive he became over the idea of finding Bruce, someone he cares for. He was spiraling bad.

His jealousy manifests in possessiveness. Mine, mine, mine. Let's not forget that Tim lost his mother, watched his father die too. He is messed up emotionally, because everything that was his has always been taken from him one way or another. First his parents, then robin mantle by Damian and even his best friend (or lover) Kon at somepoint.

"You're pouting."

"No, I am not." He says, while comically enough, pouting more. It had been about 30 minutes, give or take, since you two came back from the movie theatre. Where you and Tim had to sit through an almost 2 hours long movie with your ex as the main lead.

Was he pissed? no, no, no... why would he be? Absolutely no. Him? Tim Drake? Jealous? Pff. Definitely wasn't. And yet, he kept pressing each key of his keyboard so hard, as he typed, that you feared it might come flying at his face very soon.

"If you're jealous you can just say so you know." You say with a half amused grin. If he wanted to act like a brat, might as well enjoy it. "I mean, who wouldn't be right? My ex is after all, rich, handsome, a great ac-" your words are cut off as his face he is pretty much pressed against yours.

When the hell did he come on the bed? He was sitting at his desk just a moment ago...

"Shut up" he scoffs as his cold nose nudges yours, his hand goes to the back of your head pulling you in for a kiss. and what a kiss. His lips, slightly chapped and cold, meet yours with such ferocity you're left stunned. His body has yours pressed on his bed, as he straddles your lap. Your tongues meet as he lets out a quiet little moan as your hands go in his soft raven hair.

"fuck- i am sorry" he pants gulping, cheeks red and eyes wide, as he pulls back after a few moments in a panic. what the fuck had he just done?

"You shut up now." you say with a little grin, equally as breathless as him, as you bring back your lips against his. Losing each other in a kiss that would be just the beginning of a beautiful imperfect thing.

BRUCE WAYNE

Now, Bruce was hard to crack, for me at least. Because, I think depending on the person, the situation and how he is feeling at the current moment, he can be like any of his sons.

His jealousy is not driven by insecurity or possessiveness in the conventional sense, like Dick’s or Tim's would. Not necesseraily.

I mean, we are talking about a man with his fair share of lovers

I think his jealousy would stem from his deep emotional connections and the high stakes involved in his relationships. Sure, Tim, Dick and Jason are all vigilantes too, but Bruce is the Batman. he cannot afford, he does not have the luxury, of dating who he wants just because. It's either flings or a deep emotional connection with him.

We see him getting jealous with Selina, for example, when he feels his emotional connection getting threatened by other men she is flirting with. His jealousy is so damn complex and subtle and sometimes it shows up as in actions and decision making rather than extensive show off of jealousy.

That's why I think if he has a crush on a woman (or man), his attidute will depend on the situation they find themselves in. He might become overall more vigilant, assertive or distant base on how the event will play out.

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[ohrandomfandom]

I kinda really love “Robiin II: Becoming the Monster” because it contrasts the brightness and excitement that “becoming the magic!” encompasses. But what I really like about it is how if there’s an emphasis throughout about his view of himself and how others see him.

Wasn’t he buried next to Sheila? Bruce focuses so hard on how Jason died(does he even know that Sheila led Jason to the joker? That he was just trying to help his mom, that he didn’t just run off recklessly and confront the joker? That at the last moment Sheila, instead of immediately running off tried to help Jason because of how selfless and brave he was but it was too late for them?) that what he remembers of Jason becomes almost warped by every small interaction that could have been a “warning sign” of what was to come. Every close call, every disagreement, every expression of anger from his child is now overshadowing who he actually was. And tbh he still loves Jason dearly and cares for him and his light and hope but after Jason’s death he becomes especially unforgiving, most of all to himself, so he’s remembering what he thinks he should have seen

From growing up in crime alley, people who don’t even know him hear that and just assume he’s violent or destined to become a criminal(probably something he hears a fair amount after he gets adopted by Bruce from higher society members and the media). Maybe he learns from Talia’s sources about how his entire memory has basically been moulded into this tragic thing. The words that travel far enough to reach him are the cruelest. Talking about how he was reckless, how him dying was inevitable, maybe about the memorial in the cave. There’s this one panel set where Talia tells catatonic!Jason that Bruce misses him and that Jason(and dick) gave him hope as Robin and he cries

How he views himself, with his going against some of the rules Batman ingrained in him. How it feels right but also like a betrayal even though he’s so angry with Bruce.

Even physically too ! Dying at 15, losing more than a year of time, did his revival or the Lazarus pit reduce the effects of any malnutrition as a kid? Did he have a growth spurt? Does his body even feel like his? It must be incredibly disorienting and dysphoria inducing to die in one state and basically emerge from that water in a body he can’t remember growing in to. Muscle memory and habits that are unfamiliar.

Becoming the monster is just him learning how to exist. How to help in a way he thinks can actually work. The joker got out and he died, he grew up seeing people get hurt after the system failed to protect them again and again and so his training and returning to Gotham was part of a plan to show that to Batman. To make a Statement that he doesn’t think that things can stay the same and get better.

Him seeing Tim in all that armour could be reinforcing his view that he wasn’t as valued/ was more disposable. Or maybe he takes this as Batman caring enough to add more protection to this new kid but not enough to get blood on his hands and stop the major threats that would endanger him the most.

Ok I’ve gone off on a super tangent and was trying to pay attention to a conversation at the same time so maybe this doesn’t make any sense or is relevant at all but I just really like “Robin 2: becoming the monster.” Jason embodying the whole “I may be a terrible person but at least I’m taking a bunch more down with me and proving a point while I do”(or at least trying to! He thinks he’s making a very good and reasonable point and this is about him so that’s what matters). And I just love imagining talias support of him through all of this being portrayed as mostly background or insignificant in the face of how much he’s Feeling except for a few small moments where like maybe it’s a flash back or a v/o of a line of her supporting him would be like <33 especially if it happens during like a scene with Bruce to set her as a contrast adult/parental figure in his new second life. Or when he’s killing someone Talias line from lost days where Jason’s like “[blah if I kill this person] don’t tell me the world isn’t better off. Why are you smiling?” And talias like “you’re learning” and he’s all intense like “yea guess I am”

Idk just Jason not thinking he’s a good person but still thinking the terrible and even monstrous things he’s doing aren’t necessarily wrong and are even good is just such an important part of his character and I love that for him and that title was just yesssss and I could talk about Jason for hrs and I’m not going to edit this so I’m so sorry if it doesn’t make sense but your brain is so big and this thread is wonderful

There's a post about wanting a story about Jason's time as Robin. I made a reblog of it so long ago, but I can't stop thinking about it.

I want to watch Jason's flight as Robin, but the entire story he's haunted by the future we all know is going to come.

When he first grabs his tire iron, he has the choice of taking a crowbar instead.

Subtle purples or greens pop up when he's in danger (but not necessarily the Joker).

He frees a bird trapped inside a warehouse.

He rescues a kid who was kidnapped by their mom and returns them to their dad.

So many dead or injured birds

While helping Alfred with gardening, he breaks a nail

Gun magazines at many scenes

Motorcyclists wearing red helmets

Someone's bubbling jacuzzi has a green light on

Duffle bags

He helps hold a bandage to someone's neck until paramedics arrive

Jason reads Frankenstein while at the Manor

An ad proclaims their coffins to be the sturdiest

Just his Robin story being jammed packed with foreshadowing.

It'd also be rad to have Easter Eggs:

Someone makes a comment about assassin kids

When talking to Bruce about something, on the batscreen is a very short file about "One Who is All"

Someone at a gala mentions the Drakes' newest archeology find

Kids at Jason's school chat about meta powers and how cool controlling light is

When visiting the hospital, the nurse introduces herself as Crystal

The buildup of the audience watching Jason, who's unaware of his future, continuously face sign after sign after sign? The irrational hope that maybe someone will notice the universe basically screaming about the future? Nobody notices as more and more signs pop up. It's maddening but so intriguing.

Jason's story of Robin would follow him as he goes from being desperate to survive to thriving. His paranoia that it's too good to be true thrums in his veins, but he learns to ignore it. He's fed, loved, and flies over Gotham every night. There's conflict, sure, but he's figuring out. It's okay.

The signs start out slow and subtle. As he starts to reach towards the end, they get more and more obvious. They occur more often.

Jason doesn't know when it all goes wrong, but he's figured it out before.

We don't see him lose hope until the very end.

EDIT:

Here's the og post I was referencing

[mormshaw]

I HAVE to address this MHA leak. This is getting out of hand. I think you guys may actually like this chapter if you pause and take a deep breath.

First, I rarely post about this kind of thing as I hate getting caught up in fandom drama- very few things take the enjoyment out of something quicker than people being pissy to each other (and to creators) because something didn’t go how you imagine.

BUT.

I need to say a few words in the defence of this new chapter, and I think there are a lot of really positive things going on that can be chalked up to character GROWTH and not character ASSASSINATION as everyone has been yelling about. Things that actually really tie up three really great characters in healthy ways, and in ways that also highlight the themes of moving forward and reaching out hands that the author has been pushing. I’m not going to address Ochaco’s growth here, which is also good, but I need to discuss the Baku-Deku stuff.

I’d like to preface all of the following with one important thing: when I read and watched MHA I never once incorporated SHIPPING into my enjoyment of these characters. It wasn’t the part of the text I was interested in. Did I think there were some cute moments between Izuku and Ochaco? Yep. But that’s about as far as it went for me. I also fully expected from day one that they would end up together because that’s how these kinds of stories in this genre go. I will also say that the character dynamics and growth between Izuku and Bakugo was something that is generally well done and a key aspect of why both those characters are so enjoyable for me-one of my favourite parts.

So, when I read these leaks, I actually found a bunch that I think tied up these characters really well.

I’m going to start with the big elephant-in-the-room one that everyone has been freaking out over. The: “Izuku would never turn down an offer to work in an agency with Bakugo that’s just so not him and he’s awful and I’ll never forgive him” thing that I just can’t…understand why people are angry about. This is a GOOD thing.

One of the things I actually sort of critical about in the INITIAL ending was that Izuku seemed like he still wasn’t putting himself first. One of the things that especially Bakugo KNEW to be the case about Izuku was he “never thinks of himself” and how self-destructive that was. We saw it time and time again- he was always sacrificing things for other people: his health, his time, even his QUIRK were sacrificed for OTHERS. He never put his own self-interest FIRST. He grew in strength, he grew and matured as a HERO, but part of saving people means also knowing how to save yourself.

The initial epilogue had this air of ‘he’s sacrificed something and he’s incomplete due to that’. Others (Bakugo and class 1-A) stepped up to help him fill that hole with the suit, and that thematically worked, but there was still a gap there for Izuku’s growth. I think this chapter completes his arc in the best possible way. Izuku did something purely for himself. He LEARNED that last lesson he needed to learn. AND he did it by ALSO helping Bakugo learn a lesson too.

Bakugo offers, in sort of a round about way, for Izuku to join his agency as a sidekick. He’s turned down other sidekicks because they thought he was amazing and wanted to be in his shadow. He wanted a sidekick that would say they would ‘surpass’ him. For Bakugo that has always been what he admired (and sometimes resented) about Izuku- Izuku wasn’t afraid to say that he would push himself to be better than Bakugo, and in doing so they both made themselves stronger.

But I’d argue that this rivalry was an endless cycle for both of these characters- not an opportunity for them to change how they saw each other. Izuku would surpass Bakugo and Bakugo would work to surpass Izuku on and on for eternity. Bakugo even mentions this in the hospital- that he hoped they would get to compete with each other “for the rest of their lives”. BUT that would also mean they would NEVER be more than rivals to each other.

When Izuku turns down Bakugo’s offer to be his sidekick, Izuku ISN’T saying “no, I don’t value you or what you did for me with the suit”. He’s saying, “I know what you did for me and I’m thankful for you, but I have to make my own choices separate from you.” Izuku is NOT Bakugo’s sidekick, or vice versa. They are adults that should have their own separate goals and lives. And, in a way, he’s also telling Bakugo, “you are your OWN person. You don’t need ME to be stronger. Keep pushing yourself forward on your OWN terms.”

And that’s the thing about Bakugo- from day one his growth has been DEFINED by Izuku. He’s pushed himself forward almost entirely because of how he sees Izuku, as a rival and, in some cases, as someone who he has to constantly try to live up to. That isn’t particularly HEALTHY. Bakugo sacrificed his LIFE to “catch up to Izuku.” Like, great acknowledgement of Izuku’s ability and moving on from being a bully, but not a physically healthy thing to do. There were a couple things about the initial epilogue that made me a little edgy because while Bakugo grieved the loss of OFA almost more than Izuku did (which was growth, and interesting growth), then worked tirelessly to get Izuku the suit, he did it because he wanted Izuku to keep being his RIVAL.

When Izuku turned down the offer to be his sidekick, but in the same scene also says he can’t wait to work as a hero again with his friends and see Bakugo MORE OFTEN as a guest lecturer in his Hero classes (which like, I don’t see why people are pissed about since that’s literally one of the biggest fanfic ideas people have been writing about since chapter 430 dropped), it actually shows how much more GROWN UP these two ARE. Izuku is acknowledging Bakugo as not only an EQUAL (not someone to chase after), but also a FRIEND. Someone he looks forward to seeing and working with. In fact, Bakugo saying “see you” isn’t a goodbye. It’s a PROMISE.

The panels of Izuku walking away are actual true character growth for BOTH of them. Izuku putting himself and his choices first, and Bakugo, for the first actual time in the ENTIRE SERIES feels like he doesn’t have to chase after Izuku. He can let themselves walk their own paths!

And, because the writing is actually better than you guys are giving it credit for, this choice actually does give them opportunity to still compete because Izuku will be on the chart now as an independent agent (because remember he’s not rejecting the suit and hero work, he’s incorporating hero work into a teaching career he’s ALSO grown to love and is good at). So now, as Izuku starts climbing the charts on his own (which he will because it’s Izuku we’re talking about), they can still push each other forward ANYWAY so like…that’s a GOOD thing. It’s like having your cake and eating it too, for BOTH of them.

Take off the shipper hats for a moment. And really LOOK at this scene. Is it kind of sad they won’t work together every day? Maybe. Does it mean they are growing apart and will never see each other? NO. They are closer than ever because now they are EQUALS and FRIENDS- neither is ahead of the other.

[itsanerdlife]

Rumors

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

The struggle of living in a small town, rumors run faster than the truth ever could.

“Nah, swear up and down, blue in the face, she was with Rogers last night.”

“Saw her car leaving Rogers’ drive around one this morning.”

“Your girl was with your best friend all night? Man, that ain’t right.”

Four years down the drain. The only woman he could ever love, caught with his best friend. World shattering news coming from around the small town they grew up in. Losing his best friend and the love of his life.

Packing up his truck he didn’t bother to say goodbye to anyone. Leaving behind his phone and no note of where he would be going.

Without waiting to hear the news.

Without confronting either of them.

Three years later

“Don’t forget to sign the card on the counter.” I call into the kitchen, at the two brothers making breakfast.

“On it!” Howie calls back.

“Sign my name too.” I hear Peter comment.

“We might be twins, but I’m not forging your signature asshole.” Howie retorts.

Shaking my head, I continue to grab up baby toys off the floor, tossing them into the toy bin on the edge of the rug.

“Ohhhhhh.” AJ coos at his uncles.

“Yeah, no cussing in front of the baby.” Peter scolds Howie. “Tell uncle Howie, he’s being bad.” Peter snickers.

“Naughty.” AJ agrees.

“Don’t teach him anything more damaging, I already have to explain the peeing outside thing to Miss. Ivy, he peed in her potted plants outside her shop.” I huff, coming into the kitchen with them.

Both my brothers cringe, AJ grins proudly.

Jet black hair cut short, dark blue eyes, chunky cheeks from baby fat still. He’s a smaller version of his father almost to the T. Aside from the darkness of his blue eyes.

The father that left town without a word. Without a second thought. Without knowing about him. Small town rumors and he split without even a goodbye.

Fuck Bucky.

He missed out.

I smile at my son. Who grins back.

“Momma, we, we, we go to Nana’s today?” He asks excitedly.

“We’re going to Papa’s shop and than you’ll go home with Nana tonight.” I nod, reminding him.

“Momma work tonight?” His head tips.

“Yeah, momma works tonight.” I sigh, shrugging. “But that means, I wake up in the morning and we’ll have a big family breakfast with your uncles and your nana and papa.” I remind him.

“I spend the night with Papa?” He lights up.

“Don’t you let him teach you no more bad habits. He’s still in trouble for teaching you to burp your ABC’s.” I give him a stern look.

“So gross.” Howie sighs.

“I puked on G.” AJ admits, his little shoulders coming up to his ears.

“We remember little man.” Peter chuckles.

AJ goes about eating his eggs and toast.

“No burping.” Howie points a finger at him. AJ sighs in disappointment. I snort into my coffee cups, rolling my eyes.

------

“How old is he now?” Gwen the other bartender grins at the photo on my phone.

“We’re turning three in two weeks.” I grin as I lock my phone and slip it into my back pocket.

“Feels like just last week Peter was running around with newborn photos and listing off his stats like he was the hottest rookie to come off the bench.” She laughs, grabbing three beers from the cooler.

“He still does that, let’s not pretend he didn’t want to throw a party cause AJ was successfully potty trained at sixteen months.” Shaking my head, I rinse the cocktail shaker out in the sink under the bar.

“I mean at least he’s not missing out on any love.” She gives me a soft smile.

Nodding slowly. Only a few people actually knew who AJ’s father was. Most people still decided to believe and fuel the rumor mill.

“Yup. Guess good enough is enough.” I nod, my tone slightly bitter. I can’t help it. I hate it, but I can’t help it.

AJ was missing out, because his father chose to believe the rumor mill of our small town instead of trusting me.

Friday nights I worked the night shift at the bar, to help pad out being a single mom and keeping my kid comfortable.

It’s a typical Friday in the bar.

A familiar laugh, slithers down my spine.

“Damn been a long time since we’ve seen your ugly mug.” Sam Wilson greets someone.

The laugh comes again. “Life was good without seeing your big ass forehead.”

My heart races, palms slick, my chest grows tight.

“Y/N?” Gwen is watching me. My whole body jumps, causing me to drop a beer bottle. It shatters, the noise gaining attention.

“Fuck.” I shuffle back.

My eyes connect with winter blue ones, watching me. Shocked to see me. A flicker of anger still there.

“Oh honey, are you okay?” My head snaps to the side. My mom, Pepper Stark stands in the opening to the back, with my son on her hip.

“Mom?” I blink at her.

“I know I normally call, but he had a full melt down about going to bed without a kiss from you.” She bounces AJ on her hip. He’s tucked against her.

“Oh I’m so sorry.” I turn hurrying to scoop him up.

“Always night, night kisses.” He mumbles, completely distraught.

“Yes, always. I know, I know.” I squeeze him to me, kissing him over and over on his cheeks and forehead. Finally, he starts to giggle as I sway with him.

“Better?” I ask him. He nods slowly, still snuggled into me.

“Who that momma?” He wonders, looking down at him, he’s peeked up, watching someone off to the side.

Looking over, I find what has my son’s attention, not what, but who.

Bucky.

Staring at us.

“Mom, take him.” I hurry handing back my son to my mother. “No more fussing, go to bed like a big boy for Nana.” I lean in kissing him. He huffs but nods.

“Night momma.” He pouts.

“Night baby.” I give a small wave as my mother hurries away with my son.

“Y/N?” He’s suddenly right at the bar. Sucking in a deep breathe. I shift to face the man that abandoned me and his son. His jet black hair a little shaggy, scruffy jaw line, and wide winter blue eyes.

“What do you want James?” I snap at him.

“Is that, that my son?” He points towards where my mother had been standing.

“No that’s my son.” I correct him.

“Y/N? Seriously.” He stares at me.

“Why don’t you go listen to the rumor mill to find out.” I sneer at him. I stalk away, leaving him standing there.

-------- Everything Peaches 9/21/24 @mo320 @ml7010 @kmc1989 @babizza @coley0823 @royal-sunflower @camelliasblossom @shinycupcakebaker @purpleeclipseeggsland @daughterofthenight117 @hisredheadedgoddess28

Bucky 'Fuck Me Up' Barnes: @jbbarnesgirl @kaylaphantomhive

[osmanthuscest]

"this entire post is part of the problem" Me vale verga. No me podría importar menos. No estoy hablando de parafilias tipo objectum, me vale verga. You KNOW what paraphiles I am talking about. "Oh but pro para also include-" Me chupa un pico, estoy hablando de los pedófilos, incestuosos y los zoo. Esas vainas asquerosas.

Sorry to break it to you OP but I do also believe proship community can groom children. Call me an anti or keep telling me that I use the same rethoric, I don't care. You are not getting what I'm saying at all.

These kind of communities are a mistake, in general. You guys lack of critical thinking, thought crime it is not a crime, I am AWARE INSTRUSIVE THOUGHTS ARE A THING. Thanks to trauma I used to have intrusive thoughts about my brother and thank God I am glad I am slightly older so when I experienced these horrible thoughts the para community wasn't as big it is now. You don't get it, do you? The problem is not having a community to vent, to seek help. The problem is making it this quirky fandom-like thing.

The problem is believing these thoughts are OK. The problem is not being aware at how it can genuinely harm you if you don't seek an actual solution. And yes, I'm also pointing out proshipping. I am critical of underage users being in the current community it is also not the best. Sometimes people just need actual help, I have seen amount of teenagers proshippers who wish they are groomed and that kind of stuff, who wish they were in relationships with older men or women. Instead of seeking help, imagine them crossing into pro-para community, seeing that there's even terms for what they're suffering, that it is okay if you wish you dated an adult or want to fuck your sibling 😝😝

It's awesome you are anti contact, op, it is the bare minimum. That's not the problem. The problem is not having a deep thinking of "Why am I thinking like this? Why do I have these thoughts? Is there something I can do?" To not know where the root of the problem is. You are doing nothing by doing pride flags of incestuous trans pedophiles, you are not seeing how the help the real problem.

The community is an encouragement to comform yourself and not get any help, to believe there's nothing wrong with it. My problem is that the community is full of underage users who lacks of critical thinking because well, they are children, they don't know any better. And before you say any anti rethoric, I do believe a proship community it is also dangerous for minors. Not all, but the danger it is there ready to happen, it was my case as a children but I grew up and realized it wasn't my fault nor the people who wrote about it, it was the fault of no supervision.

Pro para community it is not safe for children. It doesn't matter if you say Ezra is bad if you have the same thinking without critizing at all the pro para community. With no questioning we believe everything is okay and there's nothing wrong we need to dive deep into.

Pro para and proship is not the same. While in another one you talk about your favorite age gap ship in the other one you talk about how you want to kiss your dog.

And is not even "Lately I've been having these thoughts about [...] but it's okay. My thoughts not makes me who I am, this also applies to you. I hope you get help, you're not alone." I am aware there are posts like this, which I do encourage and believe is what they'd need.

Not some bullshit like "Imagining kissing my dog.. I love being a zoo ❤️" #propara #proudzoo #ThisIsTotallyOK

If you don't get it then there's nothing more I can say. You guys lack of critical thinking, if you accept anything without questioning, then you are a lost cause and should not be in these kind of communities.

I hate these posts.

either you are AGAINST the idea of thought-crimes, or you're not. just bc someone's a paraphile does NOT make them any kind of offender. being proship, you almost HAVE to be pro-(anti contact) para, because part of being proship is recognizing that your imagination also can't hurt anyone.

ignoring all that, though, the other glaring issue is that these are the exact arguments antis make towards us. calling people predators with no proof, saying paras should "keep it private", that paras are trying to "groom" people into believing their paraphilias are good. replace "paras" with "proshippers" and you've got the same dumb arguments WE'VE BEEN HAVING FOR YEARS.

EVEN FURTHER THAN THAT, what happened to using the block button? why do y'all forget all about that as soon as it's a paraphile, or at minimum, someone you DEEM to be a paraphile. y'all are no better than the people you are against.

[sunsturns]

in which: you wanted to make some mac and cheese but one thing lead to another and you can’t stop looking at your best friend in a rather non friendly way.

warnings: bsf!chris x reader, hyperfixation on chris’ teeth/smile, allusions to a make out, kissing…

notes: this was requested by anon!! here. (i can’t add links rn idk but i’ll link it whenever that’s fixed 😭)

wc: 1.3k

𝓐fter a long day of hanging out with chris and his brothers, nick and matt called it quits about fifteen minutes ago, each heading to their bedrooms. which ultimately, left you and chris alone. you both tended to be the most energetic out of the group, though that dynamic was quick to change whenever it was just the two of you. the air became hesitant almost. like you didn't know how to work off of each other's energy as well as you did others.

after a long beat of silence, you got up out of your seat on the couch, and headed towards the kitchen. your stomach was starting to feel empty, it was almost like you were nervous, and it didn't make sense because why were you nervous? chris was your best friend. "i'm gonna go make some mac and cheese, want some?"

chris turned and looked over the back of the couch, looking like he was thinking a little too hard about it. he eventually concluded looking back at the tv, "nah, i'm good."

you pulled the mac and cheese box from out of the cupboard, following the instructions that were already engraved in your head at this point. it was a simple recipe. everything was going fine, you found the pot, and filled it with water, but when you went to ignite the stove, the flame wouldn't start. immediately you call for the only person up at the moment who could help,

"chris! how do you work this fucking thing?!"

he unwillingly pulled himself off of the couch and walked over to the stove, shrugging his shoulders, "i don't know, your guess is as good as mine."

"you mean you don't know how to work your own stove?" you asked with disbelief, and a slight hint of disappointment. how long has he lived here? and still didn't know how to work his own stove?

"what? you think i cook?" he said furrowing his eyebrows at you, and breaking out one of his breath taking smiles.

he seemed to find the situation really funny, but you just couldn't look away from his smile. you never could. there was always something about the way it just lit up his face that made your heart pump slightly faster. you were very aware that he was your best friend, but sometimes when he smiled like that, you just wish there could be more.

"you know your teeth are very pretty." you were so engulfed with his smile that you didn't realize those words actually left your mouth. not until you noticed his reaction. he was completely taken aback, unknowing on how you just said something like that to him.

chris replied with a questioning "thanks?"

there was an awkward beat of silence before you attempted to explain yourself, "no, seriously everytime i see you smile i'm like woah," you paused thinking real hard about what you had just said, "is that weird?"

he thought about that sentence for a second then replied with, "coming from you? kinda."

"what do you mean 'coming from me'?" you knew exactly what he meant though. the two of you have been best friends for the longest time. so it was very out of pocket for you to mention how pretty his teeth looked, especially when it was just you and him like this. it felt too intimate for him and it scared him a little bit.

"i don't know," he took an exaggerated pause, then continued with the same shit he had just said, "yeah... i don't know."

the awkwardness only grew from there so you tried your hardest to make the atmosphere more lighthearted. "so im not allowed tell you that you have a pretty smile?" you accused him.

"i don't know!"

these "i don't know" answers were starting to push your buttons. why wasn't he just answering the questions? "so... what do you know?"

"i don't know." but instead of making you more agitated, he smiled once again. it just made you fall for it even more. you knew that he was doing it on purpose now and that he was doing it to mess with you.

"stop smiling like that! i'm gonna knock your teeth out!" you joked, grabbed a serving spoon that you got out earlier for the mac and cheese, aiming it at chris as you threatened him. he knew you were messing with him and he honestly found it cute.

his next sentence shocked you the most, not understanding what he meant by, "and what if i wanted that? then what? will you knock my teeth out?" he added on some kind of playful tone to his words, almost like he was mocking you. did he want you to knock his teeth out? was there some kind of hidden metaphor? what could that possibly mean?

you said the first thing that came to your mind, now heavily concerned with where this conversation was going. "i'd tell you that you're crazy and need your head screwed on tighter." without thinking, you rustled your hands through his hair jokingly.

there was a sudden change in the atmosphere, and his hands suddenly slid onto to your sides. the touch completely shocked you, as he slowly pulled you closer to him, and you surprisingly let him. so close you could see all his little freckles scattered across his nose, along with his pretty blue eyes. and not to mention, the smirk now plastered across his face as he said, "but i don't think i'm crazy."

instantly you felt one of his hands move up to hold the side of your face, watching as you reacted to every little thing he did. your eyes were wide, and a faint smile was forming on your face. every spot his hand touched felt like it had been ignited. it was confusing how he was making you feel like this. he was your best friend, so why did you guys have less than three inches between you two?

standing there, mentally unable to initiate anything, you decided to leave it up to him. but it ended up happening so quick and his lips were perfectly pressed against yours. his hand slid behind to the nape of your neck as he got more and more into the kiss.

it didn't take long for you to realize that you both worked surprisingly well together, it was like everything felt so right despite it seeming so wrong. how could you possibly be kissing your best friend right now?

you pulled away randomly, taking a well-needed breather. you were not entirely sure if you were going to regret this later or not, so you tried to find anything to give yourself a few seconds before anything else happened. and that's when you realized what you originally came in the kitchen to do, "my uhh... mac and cheese is waiting on me." you told him with a chuckle, adding a sarcastic frown.

you had no clue why you were doing this, especially when the only thing you wanted at the moments was to feel his hands around your waist and rustling throughout your hair. surprisingly, you also wanted a lot more than that.

"are you having doubts?" he asked, looking into your eyes, waiting for you to decide the next move this time.

"i just don't want to make a mistake, chris. i'm your best friend."

"well, let me tell you. i've been waiting for this day a lot longer than you think." he pushed a piece of hair out of your face.

you looked into his eyes, a big toothy smile coming from him and suddenly you found yourself thinking, "fuck the mac and cheese." as you carefully pulled his lips back onto yours, letting the night fade away into a perfect newfound moment between the two of you.

a/n ! : this is my first fic on here!! lmk what you think? im aware its not the best thing you’ve ever read… it’s definitely not the best thing ive ever written either 😭

also… i’m sorry, but i wouldn’t expect a smutty part two or wtv bc i can’t write smut 🥲 (shocker :D)

[fall-inq]

Blackberry Jam 

I got tired of seeing no platonic Nikto or Krueger so I thought I’d try writing some. Feedback is welcome!

Pairing: Krueger x Nikto x Platonic Reader

Warnings: Nikto and Krueger being Nikto and Krueger, Violence, Car wrecks?, Reader nearly dies, No comfort, Possible innacurate geography

Read my rules

“Remind me to never trust you two with driving.” You grumble, holding back the urge to shove Nikto. With Chimera and KorTac’s recent team-up, you find yourself often paired up with the most unstable men from both sides. Nikto you were more familiar with. 

Krueger…not so much. You could tell that they knew each other well- way better than you would ever know. Which was fair- seeing as you were a “new addition to the team” in one of the most terrifying PMC’s in the world. Unsurprisingly, no one was eager to meet you or be put on a mission with you, Nikto especially. “This one is a runt,” he had said. “We should just kill it now.” Heartwarming, how kindly KorTac welcomed their newest operators. How wise they were to immediately pair you with him on missions. Usually, you were chosen like the last one picked in dodgeball and the one who took most of the hits. Now you were just the one who took the hits.

Both of you hated each other at first. His most common complaints were that you “talked to much.” That turned into “They don’t listen to me” because you’d be silent on missions with him. Then it was “they put us into danger,” and “get themself landed in the infirmary too often.” Over time, the complaints died down and Nikto grew tolerant of you, and you figured out when he wanted you to be quiet and when to talk. Instead of you two avoiding each other when not on active duty, he partly does it now, sometimes sitting down at the table to watch your Black Jack games with Horangi. Both of you ended up teaching him the game despite his uninterest.

It’s silly, growing jealous over someone who has known him longer. Why are you even jealous? Your relationship with Nikto is more so “forced into a get-along T-Shirt” than willing acquaintances. He and Krueger have known each other for years. There’s also the significant difference in mental stability. …Maybe that’s why he avoids you- he doesn’t want to hurt you. Or maybe it’s the usual: you’re annoying to him.

What’s worse is that Krueger noticed, and the smug bastard enjoys it. And yes, he does tease you about it. The taunts are the only thing he says to you.

Bitter feelings aside, the mission was running as smoothly as a mission with the two idiots could go. The task was simple: Investigate some small buildings on the coast of the recently captured Southern area of Verdansk, search them for intel, weapons free on any hostiles. At least, you thought it was simple from the back of the stolen ZIL-4334 the three of you entered. Mistake #1: You failed to notice Nikto entering the driver’s seat. Mistake #2: You failed to see Krueger do a sign of the cross despite not being religious. Krueger’s mistake was not squeezing you between him and Nikto. Or maybe that was purposeful.

Nikto floored it the second he decided he was ready to go. Poor, unwise little you slammed against the back of the truck’s cabin as the vehicle lurched forward. You hadn’t even realized you hit your head. Or that you were screaming as Nikto drove through a fence and sharply turned onto the road. Was that laughter? Was Nikto laughing? It was an odd, muffled sound. Rough, deep, and barking, like you had imagined. Despite your terror, you mentally celebrated. Horangi owes you his rations. Andre Nikto was capable of laughing.

That was also the moment the truck swerved again and tipped over. Due to the severe lack of tarp, you were launched out of the cargo bed easily, landing roughly on the asphalt and tumbling in the opposite direction. That would’ve been fine-ish, had you not kept rolling and had the terrain not started sloping down. The smell of burning rubber, road, salt and dirt filled your nose as your hands frantically tried to find purchase on the ground. A flock of birds startle and fly away at the sound.

“Nikto!”

You're falling backwards. The wind rushes past your head.

“NIKTO!”

You can hear the waves. You try to scream again-

A hand roughly grabs onto your arm and yanks you forward, giving you whiplash as you fall onto the road face-first yet again. You lie there while one of your teammates walks over to your front and squats down, his hand grabbing you by your cheeks and pulling your head up. “Krueger,” the Austrian answers. You know the fucker is smiling behind his dumb hood. “Come on. Up, up.” He drawls, using his other hand to pat your cheek. Smacking his hand away, you rise and dust yourself off, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in your head. Which brings you back to the present- walking down the highway next to the Verdansk coast.

“You’ve never seen me drive,” Krueger points out after your complaint, his monotone voice going light as he calls back. “And I never want to, thank you.” You retort, rubbing your scraped-up cheek. The taller of the group falls back from Nikto’s side to join yours as you walk. “…You are alright?” He huffed a laugh as you side-eyed him. “What? I care.” Krueger mocks, causing Nikto to snort. “He lies.” You know he does. Both of them do. “You’re young,” the Austrian remarks- like he’s secretly saying that you’re inferior and don’t belong. Like you’re a beetle he wants to crush under his boot simply for fun. Your frown deepens. “So?” He shrugs. “Shouldn’t you be making friendship bracelets with the 141? They’d be happier to have canon fodder like you.” You know it’s on purpose. You know Krueger- an asshole who tries to get a rise out of anyone. You should be the bigger person and you fail. “You motherfucker-” You want to punch him. You want to throw him off the side of the cliff. Want to break something of his even though you know he’ll rock your shit and gloat about it. “Stop.” Nikto barks, shooting the two of you a harsh glare that doesn’t affect the taller one of the group. The mood dies like a paper tossed into flame. It shrivels and blackens and falls apart into ash. The Austrian rejoins the Russian, leaving you in your usual spot.

It’s silent again. The birds are long gone. A tiny part of you wants to flee, too. The tiny part that wants to run away to a world where everything is okay and your childhood bedroom was never changed. “I’m hungry,” Krueger whines from up ahead. “Not our issue,” Nikto replies curtly. “I’ll make it your issue.” Krueger shoots back. “You do that I’ll remove your stomach with my hands.”

“I’d like that,” Krueger hums. You wrinkle your nose. “Ew. Gross.” What was more gross was the blood leaving your mouth when you spat on the side of the road. “You shut up, this is an adult conversation.” Krueger replies curtly. “Can the “adult conversations” wait for some cheap motel room-” “Both of you shut up!” Nikto suddenly snaps. You comply, though Krueger simply huffs a laugh. The last thing you want is an over-paranoid Nikto. Krueger seems to want exactly that.

The wind rustles past you again. The waves get harsher for a moment before settling down a little. A gray expanse stretches over the three of you and you suddenly feel like you’re in some sort of apocalypse. Is it going to rain? Krueger pauses, his attention focused on some bushes on the roadside.

“[C/N], come.” Krueger demands, walking over to the bushes. “Why?” He merely gestures with his hand. You can feel Nikto’s irritation rising like a steaming tea kettle’s squeal as you rush over to him. “We don’t have time for this,” the older snaps. “I’m getting a snack!” Krueger shushes, crouching next to the bushes. He grabs one of his small storage bags and opens it. “Look,” he urges, pulling you down. Blackberry bushes. It’s odd how such things can grow in the middle of a war zone. “Help me.” He says, grabbing one of the black-purple berries and plucking it. You follow the action, grabbing one, two, three.

“Sebastian,” Nikto demands hotly. For a moment you forgot he existed. You wonder how many times he’s done the same. Krueger stands, ignoring the dirt on his knees as he walks back over to the Russian and offers him a blackberry. The small berry is smacked out of his hand. You wonder if Krueger pouted as he zipped up the bag and clipped it onto his belt. “Don’t ask me for any when you’re hungry later.” He teases. Nikto forces a deep breath. “We don’t get hungry.”

Before any of you can move on, Hell breaks loose. Someone tackles Krueger- an enemy- and there’s a burst of deep dark liquid when the two hit the ground and a flash of metal. The hostile raises the blade again, aiming for Krueger’s face while Krueger pushes at the man’s chest- and then there’s Nikto, snatching the man’s arm and pulling it back farther than it should go. There’s a gross crunch and pop sound that’s partly drowned out by the hostile’s pained shout.

You fumble with your gun as Nikto tears the man to shreds. Bones continue pop out of place and break at his assault all while Krueger simply lays there as if he were cloud watching. Finally getting a goddamn grip, you raise the weapon at the man’s head while Nikto chokes him in a headlock. His arm presses further and further into the man’s neck, making the enemy sputter and gasp for air that won’t come through.. You imagine a blade, sawing at the man’s skin in an enraged effort to cut it off. You could imagine the red spilling. Imagine the garbled, bubbly cries as the man coughs up his own blood. You hear the crunch of a throat and finally fire a bullet into the fool’s head.  Nikto drops him with a jolt before storming over to you. The body falls like a plushie falls off a child’s bed. Meaningless and anti-climactic.

Nikto cuffing the back of your head knocks you out of your thoughts. “What have we told you about staying on task?!” He shouts, cuffing you again before shoving you to the ground. You don’t bother trying to argue. Stupid Krueger- it’s his fault for dragging you into his dumb distraction. You know that it’s your fault for listening to him and you don’t want to admit it. 

Sebastian stands, feeling his side curiously. The Russian abandons you and sets his sights on the Austrian. “Nikto, it’s fine.” He, too, is shoved to the ground. Krueger tuts. “Andre,” he calls, tone dropping. There’s no answer as Nikto crawls on top of him, pulling out his blade and moving to cut away the fabric hiding Krueger’s wound.

Only there’s no wound. Just dark purple…juice? Krueger pushes the Russian away and detaches the pouch the blackberries were in from his belt. It’s wet- covered in dark stains of what both you and Nikto thought was blood. Krueger opens the bag. “…It’s jam,” He explains with an irritating smirk, scooping some out on his finger and bringing it to his mouth. He tastes it and wrinkles his nose. “Hm, could be better.” Nikto’s fist connects with his face. Unsure whether to help the Austrian or to go looking for the intel, you watch the scuffle for a few moments before deciding it was best to go with the latter.

“Can one of you explain to me why Nikto and Krueger are covered in crushed blackberries and bruises?” Nikolai sighs, trying to keep his composure. Both of the masked men look at you accusingly. “[C/N],” Nikolai sighs. “What the fuck did I do?!

[peachhcs]

https://www.tumblr.com/peachhcs/768315021606469633/httpswwwtumblrcompeachhcs768260981215330304

oh my god. i love them so much and im so glad they are doing better!

mack is so fucking funny… wait till he sees all the scratch and hickeys all over will…

part 12/slight bonus! writing macklin's dialogue and banter is my favorite thing to do bc he obviously loves will and samy and loves to poke fun at will about every single thing

au masterlist

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11

"sooo, tell us about your weekend," thomas asked as soon as he got the chance once practice was over for the day on monday. the others circled in around him and the blonde just as curious to know too.

will flushed from where he sat at his stall cleaning himself up and preparing for a shower, "it was really good. we had a lot of fun."

"you gotta bring her to one of our parties. we're dying to meet her after hearing so much," eklund cut in with a little smirk.

the sharks players had been itching to meet samy since they found out she was their rookie's longtime best friend and girlfriend. they'd only heard stories and seen the photos.

"yeah, maybe next time or when she comes to a game," will hummed, glad his teammates were eager to meet her. it reminded him of boston and his linemates who were also just as excited to meet samy when they moved to plymouth.

"how much fun did you guys really have?" thomas poked some more obviously just in good fun, but also to tease the blonde.

"let's just say will's passenger seat was not in the right position when i got into it," macklin cut in before will could answer.

the bonde's face quickly burned in embarrassment as he eyed his friend to shut up.

"woah..did you guys go at it?" thomas continued along with a few snickers from the others around them.

"maybe," will tried playing it off. he didn't mind the teasing, but he did kind of mind telling them about his sex life because obviously, that was a pretty intimate and private topic that he wasn't going to willingly share with everyone.

"aw, come on. don't be shy. you totally did," ecklund roughed up will's arm in a teasing manner. all the hockey player did was shake his head slightly and play it off with a smile.

they seemed to lay off for now which will was grateful for. he escaped back into the showers to clean himself off and get out of the rink before anyone else wanted to poke at him about his weekend.

by the time him and macklin got back into his car, most of the guys were gone already so the blonde evaded any more questions they had. the two threw their stuff into the back and then got themselves situated in the front seats.

as will messed around with some things before starting the car, he didn't realize his shirt had ridden up and exposed a bit of his back. macklin was adjusting himself and snapping his seatbelt into place when his eyes caught sight of will's exposed skin and then the slight red.

"woah, you take too hot of a shower or something?" the brunette wondered to which will grew confused.

"huh?"

"your back is like red. you good?"

still, will was confused so he reached around to touch his back where the skin was exposed. he felt around, not feeling anything tender, but his fingers did brush over a line of raised skin.

"just let me see for a second," macklin offered, wanting to make sure his friend was okay. he helped will lift his shirt up more and that's when he saw more red marks running up and down will's back like someone attacked him.

"holy fuck, why is your back all scratched up?"

as soon as the question left his lips, macklin immediately knew and will remembered at the same time. the brunette scrunched his nose up, "dude, what the fuck. this too? jesus, how hard did you go this weekend?"

the blonde's face flushed in more embarrassment as he quickly pulled his shirt all the way down. "what? we didn't go that hard," will defended himself.

"how many times did you even fuck? i know the car was 1," macklin raised his eyebrow and will seriously couldn't believe he was having this conversation again.

"i guess 3. the other 2 were in my room," he admitted a bit sheepishly.

"oh my god. you're disgusting. remind me to never be in the same house as you two.," macklin shook his head like he was some disappointed dad hearing all of this.

"hey. if you had a girlfriend right now, i know you'd be the exact same, so i don't wanna hear it," will rolled his eyes.

"please tell me that's it. please tell me i'm not gonna discover anything else remaining from this weekend that has to do with that," macklin made a circular motion with his hand towards will, a look of disgust still on his features.

"there's hickeys on my chest, but that's it. swear it," will watched macklin roll his eyes hearing that.

"jesus christ, smitty. you guys are hornyyy, wow. i gotta go home and drink bleach so i never think of this again," the brunette shook his head which earned him the middle finger as will finally pulled out of the parking lot.

"you're so over dramatic. what happens when you get a girlfriend?"

"we won't be as horny as you two," macklin shot right back without mssing a beat.

"and what happens if you guys end up having to do long distance and don't see one another for weeks on end?" will raised his eyebrow.

"that will be none of your business," the younger boy crossed his arms.

"right. can't wait to see the hickeys on you then. i'll tease you all about it," the blonde grinned and macklin shoved him.

it was safe to say neither of them talked about the occurrences in will's car ever again. or at least until samy came back to visit. the younger brunette made sure to stay far, far away while she was in town again.

[mayasaurusss]

"You like that?"

Inspired by Lottie getting chocked in the new teaser...don't judge me.

Contains: transfem Lottie, gn reader

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes inside the cabin's attic, muffled sounds and moans coming from both of you as you move against your lover. Lottie, underneath you, skin darkening around the cheeks and sweat trailing down her temple moans, sighs and whimpers as you ride her to her well deserved little death.

Ever since the crash, hell, maybe even before it, Lottie has been very open and lovely with you. At first you though that she was just begin nice to you, since you were new on the team, but after a while, you two became friends. As much as you could be friends with her anyways. You found out she was a very busy woman, and even if she did sometimes asked you to join her and the rest of the team -you were too shy at the time to fully loose up- you never found the time to develop your friendship more than the three hours a day during practice.

But something changed after the crash. Whether it was her need to be close to someone or a sincere interest over you, you and Lottie became close. Closer than ever, actually, sometimes attracting the envious eyes of your other teammates.

Both of you bonded over your hobbies, music and movies, trivia -a thing that you found Lottie liked to talk about,a lot- and books. And through the wilderness you had started to rely on each other so much, that with time, your affections turned into lingering touches and shy looks. You two became lovers into the chaos that was the aftermath of the crash, two pillars for one another. It was a cold November evening when you two kissed for the first time. The wind was strong against the cabin's outer walls, snow pressing against the window and ice forming at it's base. You had spent that afternoon in Lottie's embrace, fighting the cold biting at your skin. Everyone was asleep by the fire, cuddled up together, but neither you not Lottie slept. She had her body pressed against yours, gently lulling you to sleep by warming you. When your eyes begun to close, she snuggled her nose near yours, without even thinking about it, and before long, you threw your arms at her neck and kissed her tenderly.

When the air between you two finally grew thick with need, you couldn't keep you hands to yourself anymore, and neither could she.

You had noticed for a while how she looked at you with a different light in her eyes. How she lingered on your curves for a bit too long, how the flesh of her cheeks darkned when you were near her, how she became all fidgety and shy when you talked to her. It has always been clear -at least to everyone else beside you two- that there was something between you and Lottie.

"Hey..." she came to you one afternoon, when the heat of sunrays melted the snow on the window. "Lottie? What is it?" you were shoveling the snow off of the door at the best of your abilities, teeth pressed tightly. Lottie on the other hand didn't seem too affected by the cold, but that maybe was because she had been inside up until this point. "I wanted to tell you... that I really enjoy your company" she seemed fidgety and uncharacteristically shy, a side of her character that only surfaced while she was with you. "Oh...I really like your company too, Lot". You got back to shoveling away, but she remained at your side. "I meaan... I really like your company. I like you. And we kissed. So..." the way those words were pronounced and the faint red on her cheeks made you realize what the subtex really was.

She rubbed her thighs over and over again, trying to make her bulge less noticeable but failing miserably to do so.

"So...could we, you know..." her voice dropped in the last syllable, vocal chords barely holding on the sound in her throat. She looked so cute, so beautiful with the reflection of the snow in her eyes. And how could you say no to her?

So here you are: in the attic, with your hands on Lottie's throat while bouncing on her dick. The cold is seeping in from the outside and affecting your lovemaking, but the heat your bodies produce is enough to warm both of you. Lottie sits naked under you, a blanket between her and the floor. She had the thoughtfulness of making a little "nest" for you two to be comfortable. The others have her a weird look when she asked for more blankets and pillows, but ignore what they would be needed for. The sound of humping above their heads is enough to make them guess, you think.

"Fuck...oh baby, fuck..." Lottie's eyes roll back, her hands gripping at your hips and shaking. She feels weak underneath you, strenght leaving her everytime she sinks back inside. "Please...please, slow down a moment, or I am going to..." her pleas fall on deaf ears when your hips fall back repeatedly on her own's, even doubling your efforts and moving faster and faster, making her exhale every breath from her lungs. She can't help but be estatich when you take her faster, almost delirious; maybe she did hope you were not going to listen to her.

She can already feel herself bursting, skin tingling and brain empty. Her please and whimpers get erratic, exhaling so loudly you're sure someone knows what you two are up to.

"Lottie! Shut up!" you say, kneeling over her body so that you are face to face with her. Without even thinking about it, you place your hands at either side of her neck, lightly pressing on her throat. "Just-! Be quiet! The others might-" you quickly shut up when you see the look on Lottie's face: her blush has spreaded on her shoulders, her eyes are humid and she looks at you with such adoration and eagerness that your heart hurts.

Something inside of you suggests what that look means, and just to try, or maybe to tease and torture her, you clench down on her cock while tightening your grip on her neck. You watch as a long and loud whine escapes her throat, eyes rolling back and hips chasing you upwards, impaling you on her length and making you fall over her, loosening your grip over her.

"So...you like that..." Lottie just whines and shudders, protesting the lack of movement on your part. "Yeah? Don't worry baby..." you roll your hips downward, making Lottie moan loudly, a bead of precum falling from your entrance on her crotch, "I am going to give you the time of your life".

[isak-dot-gov]

Communication

Pairing: Rhea Ripley x Reader

Word count: 1281

My Masterlist :)

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The argument started over something trivial, something that shouldn’t have been as big as it now was, but with the pent-up tension between you and Rhea, it quickly escalated. You’d always been reserved, used to handling things alone, bottling up emotions because that’s what you’d known. Growing up, you’d always been the odd one out—the youngest by a lot, with siblings much older who never quite understood you or took the time to try. So you learned early on to keep things to yourself, never expecting others to help, never even thinking about opening up. But Rhea was different, and that difference was what you loved and what scared you the most.

As her voice grew louder, frustration clear in her eyes, you tried to hold back, to keep calm and prevent things from going any further. But your deflection only made it worse.

“Why won’t you just talk to me?” Rhea demanded, her hands clenched into fists. “I tell you everything about myself. You know all my issues, my history, the things that haunt me. I’ve trusted you with it all. But you… I feel like I know nothing about what’s going on with you.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Rhea.” You mumbled, hugging your arms to your chest. You looked down, feeling like a child again, misunderstood, alone, just waiting for the conversation to be over.

She sighed heavily. “I want you to open up, to let me in. I hate feeling like I’m the only one who’s here. This relationship is supposed to go both ways, you know? But every time I try to be there for you, it’s like… it’s like I hit a wall.”

You could see the pain in her eyes, but you didn’t know what to do. The words were trapped inside you. Rhea was right; you hadn’t opened up about your struggles or your past because, for you, that was just how you lived. It felt as though the world was only safe if you kept certain parts of yourself locked up.

“Look, I don’t need you to fix everything, but I need you to trust me enough to tell me what’s going on with you. I want to be someone you can lean on, not just… some girl you agree with until I stop asking.”

You swallowed, feeling a rush of guilt. That was exactly what you’d been doing. It wasn’t that you didn’t care—far from it. Rhea was the most important person in your life, someone who you wanted desperately to hold on to. But letting her in, truly letting her in, was so foreign, so terrifying.

“Yeah, okay, fine.” The words came out sharper than you intended. “You’re right.”

Her expression fell, replaced by a look of dismay and hurt. “Are you serious right now? You’re just… saying that because you want to end the conversation.”

You had no reply. It was true; agreeing with her was easier than actually engaging with the uncomfortable emotions stirring inside. The silence between you stretched, tense and heavy, until Rhea finally threw up her hands, her voice thick with disappointment.

“You know what? I’m done with this for now. I need space. I can’t… I can’t do this if you don’t want to let me in.”

She grabbed her jacket, her keys, and with one last, lingering look, she left, leaving you alone in the dim quiet of the room.

As the door closed, you felt that familiar pang of loneliness, a pain you knew too well. But this time, it was sharper, different. This was Rhea—someone who *wanted* to know you, who’d reached out to you over and over, only to be shut down. It hurt, knowing you’d made her feel like she didn’t matter to you, when the truth was the exact opposite. Rhea mattered more than anything. And now, she’d walked out because you couldn’t give her that vulnerability, couldn’t open up the way she needed.

You sat in the quiet, trying to ignore the ache in your chest, but it wouldn’t go away. It gnawed at you, until finally, you grabbed your phone. Your fingers hovered over the screen, unsure of what to say, but eventually, you managed to type: Can we talk? When you’re ready. I’ll try to explain. I don’t want to lose you.

The hours ticked by painfully slowly until, finally, a message pinged back: Okay. I’ll be back tonight. Just be honest with me, baby, please.

When Rhea walked back in, her eyes were rimmed with red, her expression softer but guarded. She sat down next to you on the couch, and the silence stretched on as you both grappled for the right words.

Finally, you took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I know I haven’t been fair to you. You deserve someone who… who can open up, who can talk about things.” You paused, unsure how to continue. “Growing up, I was the youngest by a lot. My siblings were so much older than me, and I was just… the kid in the background. It was like no one ever cared what I was going through, you know? They had their own lives, their own problems, and I was just… there.”

Rhea’s gaze softened as you spoke, listening intently, hanging on every word. You could tell that this was what she had wanted—an opening, a chance to understand you better.

“So, I guess… I got used to it,” you continued, your voice barely a whisper. “To not sharing, to not expecting people to care. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. But somewhere along the way, I stopped asking for help because I didn’t think anyone would really want to listen. I thought keeping things to myself was just… easier.”

Rhea reached over, taking your hand gently in hers, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “But you’re not alone now,” she said, her voice full of warmth and a quiet strength that made your heart ache. “I’m here, and I want to be here for you. You don’t have to be that lonely kid anymore. But I need you to trust me, darling.”

You nodded, feeling a lump in your throat as the weight of her words settled over you. “I know. I want to try for you. I just… I don’t always know how to talk about what’s going on inside my head. It’s like there’s this barrier, and I don’t know how to break it.”

“Then let me help,” Rhea whispered, leaning closer, her hand tightening around yours. “I’m not asking you to change overnight, but I want you to try. Just… a little bit at a time. Let me be here for you, even if it’s messy or awkward. Let me in, and we’ll figure it out together.”

You looked up, meeting her gaze, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope. “Thank you,” you murmured, your voice cracking slightly. “For being so patient. I know I haven’t made it easy.”

Rhea shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Hey, you’re worth it. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t believe in us. Just… promise me that next time, instead of shutting down, you’ll at least try to tell me what’s going on.”

You nodded, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the weight of loneliness that had shadowed you began to lift, replaced by something warmer, something new. And in that moment, with Rhea’s hand in yours, you felt like maybe, just maybe, you could learn to open up, one small step at a time. Because for her—for both of you—this love was worth the effort.

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[kurishiri]

95K┊Dark If —Harrison Gray—

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— the 95k story for dark if (part 1), featuring harry. i think it is “required reading” to understand the world of this event, but they set it as the 95k bonus story, so i'm translating it. please note this does not necessarily have a happy end.

— cw: mentions of murder and death, angst.

Every story had an established plot, so to speak.

For example, in Cinderella, the prince fell in love at first sight with Cinderella, and they lived happily ever after.

Or if we took Snow White, the kiss from the prince would awaken her, and then they lived happily ever after.

‘It’s boring if everything goes as planned?’ That’s fine, since it’s the type of story most people want.

But, I wonder when this all went down...when did this fairytale world start to become so twisted?

And also, what had to have gone down for me to end up in this role of guiding the keyman to this world and through those twists?

Tonight, once again, the keyman who had wandered into this fairytale world tried to run away, returning to reality.

In other words, they were not the keyman, but rather they just happened to get caught up in all of this.

Victor: It seems this time as well, they were unable to find the missing thing.

Harrison the Lying Fox: They’ll just think of it all as a bad dream and forget about it anyway.

H: Besides...

Victor: ‘It’s best to quickly forget about this world and live in reality’?

This mysterious man named Victor, who wandered this world, had a shrewd look as he smiled, and as usual, such a look irritated me.

Just when I thought of throwing even a single insult his way, I heard the sound of footsteps.

(Ahh, here we go again...)

(Someone was ‘summoned’ by this world.)

Victor: Oh, where are you headed off to? There’s a guest here.

Harrison the Lying Fox: I’ll look from afar. There’s not much point in talking face to face anyway.

Victor: I see. Then do as you like.

——And then, the footsteps gradually grew louder, until they stopped.

Victor: Welcome to the twisted fairytale world...

V: A guest has come~~ Yippeee~~!

There stood a figure, petrified from what looked like anxiety.

Kate: Um, where... I... just now I was at the bookstore, and...

(Oh jeez... she’s so frightened.)

Kate: Uhm, I’m in the middle of my letter carrier duties. So I would like to return to Kingsley Books...

Victor: Now that may be a bit difficult.

Kate: Huh?

Victor’s explanation, something he had repeated thousands of times over, flowed smoothly.

How he selfishly wanted her to find the ‘missing thing’ in the fairytale world.

And then, the one named Kate was sent to the twisted fairytale world in order to find that very thing.

Victor: Harrison. Are you going to take a peek into the story?

Harrison the Lying Fox: You can stop with the act. I know you know as well that I’ve got no choice but to.

The lying fox was always a despised presence within a fairy tale.

And that was the role I bore. It was my fate to spend my life serving this world so that it could return to normal.

(I can freely traverse through any fairytale world.)

(But if I were to flip a coin on it, it would mean I would never be able to become a character in any fairy tale.)

Despite the fact I was bearing this troublesome fate, I myself couldn’t correct any of these stories... it was ironic.

Victor: Well then, have a good time. May you find the best happy end this time.

—— Traversing... ——

Kate: I’m... Cinderella?

Having been sent to the world of Cinderella, Kate wasted little time in starting her search for the missing thing.

She was trying so hard I couldn’t help but feel fed up.

But——

Stepmother: It’s because of children like you that my own girls don’t get chosen by the prince!

Kate: P-please stop...

Stepmother: You...someone like you...!

So that one of her own children would become the prince’s fiancée, the stepmother schemed and killed Kate.

Once again, this fairy tale reached a bad end.

And then, Kate was taken back to reality from the fairytale world.

—— In reality ——

Kate: Huh? I... what was I doing again?

K: ...I feel as though I was sleeping for a long time...

I had come to realize in the long time I had been observing that if a keyman were to die in the fairytale world and reach a bad end,

they would be forcefully returned to reality like this.

And——all of what happened in that world would be wiped clean from their memories.

But, in most cases, their bodies would still remember, and they would leave, as though to run away.

It was like they were saying they didn’t want to see a bad dream again.

(Alright now, you get out of here quickly too.)

(Go back to that peaceful everyday life filled with normalcy.)

Kate: ………

After standing up with a bit of a wobble, Kate once again reached for the fallen book.

(………Huh? What in the world are you doing?)

And then, as if trying her best to remember something precious, she furrowed her brows,

and then, once again, Kate was sucked into the book like she was being summoned by it.

Harrison the Lying Fox: Wh——you idiot.

And so, Kate — once again — found herself repeating the same exchange with Victor,

landing in the world of Alice in Wonderland.

In this world, the bell signifying the Queen of Heart’s judgment resonated.

Kate: I’m looking for the missing thing in this world.

K: That is, the thing that’s lacking in the world. If that is——a peaceful life...

Liam the Cheshire Cat: Then you wouldn’t want to approach the Queen of Hearts. Well, all is up to you, Alice.

And so, Kate once again tried so hard to find the missing thing, it was laughable.

(Why do you feel the need to go so far?)

(...Ah, jeez, if you get hurt again that’s all on you.)

This time, in this story as well, Kate was unable to find the missing thing.

And, never learning from what had happened, she would continue to choose this cycle.

Over, and over again, she would roam within these twisted fairy tales.

At one time, she was Snow White.

But, she was killed by a foreign prince named Natalia, who was aiming to conquer the country that Queen Elbert ruled, covering for him.

And at another time, she was Sleeping Beauty.

She was cursed by a fairy to ‘prick her finger on a spinning wheel ten years later, triggering the curse,���

but before that time, she had passed away from an illness.

Such events would repeat themselves, over and over again.

And, over and over again, I would watch over Kate.

Today as well, Kate was in a twisted fairytale world, continuing her search.

At this point, I couldn’t bring myself to care about what fairy tale she was in.

It was just watching over her was my job.

Today, it had been raining in this forest nonstop since the morning, and Kate’s shoulders grew more soaked.

When I saw her body trembling in the cold, I couldn’t bear it...

——And, for the first time, I approached Kate.

Without an utterance, I held an umbrella above her.

Kate: ...?

Harrison the Lying Fox: The rain won’t stop for a while. Wanna come in?

Kate: T-thank you?

Harrison the Lying Fox: Haha, why phrase it like a question?

Kate: Um... can I ask who you are?

(My name...)

Harrison the Lying Fox: That kind of thing doesn’t really matter, does it. Since we’re going to be parting ways when the rain stops anyway.

Kate: Is that so. Yes... I suppose so...

Kate looked a bit lonely, before thanking me again.

Under a single umbrella, I looked up at the sky, the rain falling non-stop.

(I hate the rain.)

(...But, just for today, I wouldn’t mind if it never stopped.)

(Because, then I can be together with you... for just a little longer.)

The ‘thanks’ from Kate made a strange warmth seep into my heart.

And then, once again, Kate was killed in the fairy tale.

While I’d seen her die countless times, for some reason, this time made me feel a pang in my heart for the first time.

—— Time skip ——

Victor: Oh my, Harrison. It’s not every day I see you here.

Harrison the Lying Fox: Could you stop this already?

Victor: ...I take it this is about Kate?

Harrison the Lying Fox: .........

Victor: That, I can’t do.

Harrison the Lying Fox: And why’s that?

Victor: Because, for some reason, Kate herself ends up choosing to come back here over and over. This is a first for me as well.

V: And I find myself thinking, about Kate...

Harrison the Lying Fox: What about her? Hurry and say it already.

Victor: Perhaps she may be the true keyman?

V: Harrison? Where are you headed?

Harrison the Lying Fox: ...To Kate.

Victor: I see... do be careful.

Kate was in the world of Cinderella, like she was the first time.

Tonight, Kate was participating in the ball, and she must introduce herself to the prince.

She had a fairy godmother alter her appearance, and I thought she looked more beautiful than any of the other participants here.

That was no lie, either, since the eyes of any who passed by would be taken by her.

But, Kate, the gentle soul she was, could not bring herself to approach the prince directly.

(Ahh... if she doesn’t speak up, he’ll get stolen by other women.)

(Jeez, always making more work for me.)

I quietly approached, and I dropped an empty glass from a table right adjacent to Kate,

causing a shattering sound to resonate through the dance hall, and everyone in the venue turned their attention on Kate.

Kate: Ah, wh—? Me? I-I’m so sorry...

(Look over there, the prince has finally noticed you.)

Prince: Um, are you hurt anywhere?

When I confirmed the prince had reached out to Kate, I left the venue.

After all, a lying fox was hardly suited for such a place.

I descended the long staircase myself.

(I don’t think that would be enough to change the course of the story.)

(Kate, go and find the missing thing. This time, for sure.)

When I wished for this, a bitter feeling bloomed in my chest, as though I had bitten on sand.

(I see, if Kate were to find a happy ending, I would no longer be needed.)

Before I knew it, I had watched over Kate for quite a while.

At some point, Kate had already become a part of my everyday.

(——What am I saying, with something so out of character like how a farewell would be lonely.)

Trying to shake off these conflicting emotions, I continued to walk, when...

Kate: Uhm...

(...Kate?)

When I turned around, I saw Kate running down, holding the hem of her dress up as she did.

(...What happened with the prince?)

(Why’s she chasing after me?)

Many words welled up in my throat, but I pushed them all down.

After all, in Kate’s memory, I was not there.

Harrison the Lying Fox: Did you need something?

Kate: Ah, um...

Harrison the Lying Fox: ...?

Kate: Have... we met somewhere before, by any chance...?

Harrison the Lying Fox: ......... (O_O)

Kate’s eyes pierced through me, like she was begging for the truth.

We stared at each other for several seconds, which felt more like an eternity.

But, the one who broke it first was me.

Harrison the Lying Fox: Who knows. It’s probably just you.

(It’s alright. I’m good at telling lies.)

Kate: I...see. Sorry about that, for saying something so strange. Please forget it.

Kate put up a forced smile before she returned from where she came.

And I, much like a fool, couldn’t take my eyes off of her back.

(Hey, Kate. Having watched over you all this time, I’ve come to realize something.)

The ‘missing thing’ that Kate had always been searching for in these fairytale worlds...

(That is——the protagonist.)

(Kate. You yourself are the missing thing in its truest form.)

Had Kate followed her own heart, choosing a path to become happy,

I was sure the twisted fairy tale would reach its end.

But, when I tried to tell Kate,

Harrison the Lying Fox: Gugh, hah... gh...

Something seemed to stop words from forming in my voice.

And, as though mocking at this eternal, twisted fate from afar, the clock struck twelve.

Harrison the Lying Fox: .........

(I can’t become your prince, nor can I become your lover.)

(And, someday, you may end up finding your happy end.)

(But... for now... even if it’s just this moment——)

Harrison the Lying Fox: Hey, you there. ...Heading that way could spell out danger, you know?

Kate: And you are?

Harrison the Lying Fox: Who knows. More importantly, where are you planning to go?

(...Let me watch over you, while holding the key of this secret in my hand.)

That night, as strange as it was, I had a dream.

In my fairy tale, one that remained without a name to call it, Kate suddenly appeared and said——

Kate: Harrison!

Harrison the Lying Fox: How do you know my name?

Kate: Of course I know. Because I’ve always been searching for you.

Harrison the Lying Fox: ......... (O_O)

Kate: ...Harrison, I like you. Would you become my happy end?

(Ahh... I see now.)

(So this is the most convenient dream for me.)

A bitter, yet unbearably sweet feeling blossomed in my heart.

(If this isn’t a reality, then I won’t have to lie anymore, right?)

I touched Kate’s wrist, and then brought her in an embrace.

(That’s right, I had always... wanted to hug you like this.)

Harrison the Lying Fox: Me too.

H: I’ve always wanted to reach the best end with you, too.

(Kate, I no longer want to see you crying.)

(I think you’re much better suited with a carefree smile.)

Harrison the Lying Fox: Kate. I like you.

I wished that time could stop, just a little bit longer,

for while this momentary dream was fleeting, I had never had seen a better one before.

Fin.

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