#maybe give me a couple examples of scenarios and I could jump from there

[candyunicornsateme]

I miss K2…. What are your favorite scenarios to put K2 in?

oh god ummmm

Suddenly sitting alone across from each other at a restaurant/café in tense silence because of unspoken feelings and Kenny's kinda surprisingly intense gaze and Kyle having a crushing realization that Kenny's a lot different than he thought

Kyle is upset and suddenly Kenny's super attentive and comforting in a subtle, non-pushy way (Kyle realizing Kenny can be compassionate, dare I say seems to be more so when no one's around👀)

Why Are You Getting Into Trouble Like This Kyle kysterion situations. In any way.

Kyle finding out Kenny would literally die to save him and Kenny getting really heated when Kyle won't listen and puts himself in danger to help/save Kenny too. Because of course.

Kenny just greeting like "hi Kyle :) (waves cutely)" and Kyle has his head up his own ass and it takes him fucking forever to realize Kenny is 1. Cute and 2. Really likes him. Does this even count as a scenario idfk. CUTE KENNY. CUTE.

[primofate]

Headcanon

Scenario: Levels of Intimacy

Characters: gn! reader x Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo, Childe, Zhongli, Xiao, Chongyun, Venti, Dainsleif

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Diluc

When you first start dating, is a man of few words, but definitely shows that he cares. Is the type who sends you flowers but doesn't say anything about it.

Gradually warms up a bit more as time passes.

Is not a fan of public displays of affections but you'll notice that he'll touch you in subtle ways. Touching your lower back to steer you to the right path, touching your shoulder to get your attention, touching your arm when he just feels like it.

You'll catch him looking at you once in a while and when you ask what's wrong he shakes his head and will say something like, "Nothing, just got distracted,"

When you're alone, will lay his head on your lap for whatever reason. Will usually be reading a book and the next time you glance at him he would have fallen asleep, peaceful look on his face.

People will notice that his mood changes when you're around. He's a lot less on edge and will take a more relaxed stance.

People will also notice the gentle look on his face when he talks to you, compared to the stiff look he gives others.

Will give heaps of forehead kisses.

Kaeya

Has no problem showing affection right from the beginning.

Cheek kisser. Anywhere, anytime. Whenever he feels like it, for no reason at all.

When you're out in town, the type who will sneak up behind you, cover your eyes with his hands and ask, breath above a whisper and near your ear, "Guess who?" you know who it is every time.

If not that, then he'll just hug you from behind and "Caught you, you're coming with me," mischievous glint in his eyes.

People will notice how he can't seem to take his eyes off of you.

Is somehwhat flirtatious but always reminds you that you're number one. "I might look like I'm joking, but trust me, I'm serious about you,"

When you're alone, is the type who will take you in his arms, drop you in bed and just cuddle with you while playing with your hair.

Albedo

Doesn't say much when you first start dating. Actually you don't even know when exactly you guys started dating, you just had a hunch that it was happening because he starts to give you kisses on the top of your head whenever you would part ways with him.

When you ask about it, "Hm? Dating...? Yes, I suppose that's what you call it. I'd rather call it as an exclusive privilege to you,"

Asks for your company whenever he can. You don't do much, but just watch him work. He's happy with just being in the same room as you.

Will sometimes be conscious about the fact that you might be bored "Here, would you like to try?" is just an excuse for him to guide your hand on how to do specific alchemy experiments.

When he feels tired and burnt out will just appear next to you and hug you round the waist, rest his head on your shoulder and murmur "Just a small break,"

When you're out in town together and someone comments about it being rare to see Master Albedo accompanied by someone, he would reply back gesturing at you, "They are... My life partner. So, it's only natural you'd see us together."

Life partner=his word to indicate that you're dating

When you're alone, would ask you to fix his hair or tie his hair up cause "you're the only one who knows how to do it properly, aside from me,"

Childe

Absolutely cannot keep his hands to himself.

Always greets you with some form of hug, usually bear hugs or let me nuzzle into your neck hugs.

Would glue you to his hip if he could.

Visibly happy in public with you, dotes on you and asks you what you'd like to do today.

People can literally see hearts hovering around his head when you're around.

Hand holding a must.

Will not let you do any manual work or labor. Got something to carry? Will take it from you. Need to wash the dishes? Just use his vision. Having trouble with that jar? He might break it for causing you so much trouble.

When you're alone, will always be the big spoon and trail kisses on your neck.

Has a permanent smile plastered on his face when he sees you. "You're just too cute!"

Zhongli

This man is gentle and yet manages to be firm about what he wants, which is you, and no one else.

Does not show a wide range of emotions, he's either calm and collected or agitated and cautious, depending on situations that concern you.

Agitated and cautious because he feels like you're such a fragile thing.

Will enjoy watching your face light up at his suggestions and will get that soft hint of a smile on his face. "Strange, this effect you have on me. Quite an extraordinary thing, and that would be saying a lot considering I've been around for thousands of years,"

When he accompanies you out to town will walk a step behind you but regularly check on you by standing next to you, and reaching out to touch your shoulder that is further away from him. Thus you're momentarily in a semi-side hug. "Everything alright?"

When someone in public comments about you and him making a cute couple, he feels a sense of pride and confirms it. "It is as you say. I wonder from time to time how I've managed to have someone like them stay with me,"

When alone with you, is the type to pull you on their lap and keep you there for as long as he can while he works.

Xiao

Is totally a cold one even if you start dating. But it doesn't mean that he doesn't care, he just has his own way of showing it.

However the more you grow on him the more you find out that he gets flustered unusually easy.

When you suggest a date, for example, his face will get that subtle hint of red. "I-I don't have time for that,"

Sometimes he would say he wouldn't want to do something with you, but then when he finds out you went and did it by yourself he gets moody. "Huh? You already went to get ice-cream?!" will glare at nothing in particular until you say you can go with him next time. "Fine..."

Has periods of being worried that you're tired of him. You know when it happens because he gets quiet, and he will suddenly just grab your wrist, look at the ground, and mumble "... I know I'm not the best at showing and saying how I feel but..." you understand anyway, and are happy with just that.

Is actually extremely possessive. Usually will not hold your hand when walking around town but when a man somehow approaches you he's there in the next second and pulls you into a back hug while staring the guy down.

When you're alone, loves to have you lay your head on his lap and have quiet conversations with you.

Chongyun

is a shy boi and rather unsure of himself.

will gain confidence along the way.

“U-Uh, would you like to hold hands, maybe?” you tell him he doesn’t have to ask at all but he still asks the first few times anyway

Is very thoughtful about your schedule and workload, will constantly worry about you when you seem like you’re tired or overworked

When he knows you’re too tired he gets this sudden assertive side of him “That’s enough for today isn’t it?”

Will add a kiss to your temple, on the side of your forehead.

Sometimes will start to panic about something and turns to you for help. It’s actually something easy to solve so you help him and he would sigh and say “What would I do without you?” and leans in for a hug.

When you’re alone, has a surprisingly assertive side that pulls you in for a hug whenever he feels like it. Sometimes you’d fall together in bed and just cuddle while talking.

Venti

“A-ha! There you are!” will open his arms and wait for you to come to him. If you do, he does his trademark laugh and hug you tight. If you don’t, will stare at you with a questioning face but break into smile and say “Oh, too shy cause we’re out in public? Come on, it’s just a hug!” 

Has no issues telling everyone in town that you’re a couple. “Oh yea, have you met Y/N here? Cute right?...And all mine!” Cue the trademark laugh again.

loves to sit on the sofa, lean his back on the arm of it and have you in his arms just looking down at you do your own thing, mostly reading. If not, then just taking naps with you there.

When the two of you are alone, he sometimes gets this sad or thoughtful look on his face, which is super rare on his usually cheerful demeanor. You would ask what’s wrong and he would snap back to reality saying, “...I was just thinking about...how it would be without you,” jumps back quite quickly and grins, “but that’s not gunna happen, you’re stuck with me till the end!”

Out in public when someone comments you’re such a cute couple he would readily agree and give you a side hug, arms round your shoulder, cheek pressed up against yours. “We’re the cutest you’ll ever see!”

Dainsleif

the definition of protective is this man

is very subtle with his touches, affection and words, but despite that you can feel his unparalleled loyalty to you and is surprisingly gentle.

loves to greet you with a one handed hug and a kiss on the side of your lips.

Out in town, will start off just walking beside you but you wouldn’t even notice when he had slipped his hand in yours. His type of hold is the type of hold that makes you feel like he’s never letting go until you do.

While out adventuring with you, will have these moods where he’s just clingy. Will pull you by the wrist, trap you in between him and a tree and lean in for a kiss on the lips, gently.

Will pull back a moment later, cheeks flushed pink and apologize. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me,” 

loves to have you lean on his shoulder when you rest, and will watch you doze off peacefully.

[lord-explosion-baku]

Trident Tale

Merman!Shinsou x reader, Kirishima x Reader

Warnings: adult themes (Minors DNI)

A/N: read the prologue on AO3

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

(Original image by @maewoahoah)

Synopsis: Moving to an island where everyone is big on the surf scene and other oceanic happenings might not have been the brightest idea for someone so afraid of anything that has to do with water, but you make do by spending your days looking after the Bed & Breakfast, trying not to burn the house down when you fry a few eggs, and obsessively scrolling through Eijirou Kirishima’s social media page. He’ll never notice you, and you think you’re fine with that, until a mysterious force washes into Ms. Shuzenji’s pool after a particularly nasty storm.

Hitoshi Shinsou is a pain in the ass from the get-go, but you put up with him, fins and all, when he promises he can help unite you with your soulmate. The catch? The fish is hellbent on taking back what was stolen from him, and he won’t lift a gracious finger until he gets what he came for.

You’re helpless to lend him a hand, so long as you stay dry. Unless, of course, he has other plans.

You know how the saying goes: you rub his fins, he’ll rub yours.

Storms have never really been your cup of tea. Though you keep yourself locked inside a good percent of the time, there’s nothing quite as suffocating as the compress of clouds overhead. It’s not like you always have to see them to be uncomfortable, but you definitely feel them pressing down, closing in, and caging you, even when you’ve got yourself tucked under a blanket on Ms. Shuzenji’s couch.

It’s been a little over a year since you first moved to the island. All you needed was a new beginning, and you got that, but you got that, and the tropical weather that you’re still getting used to. It’s currently typhoon season, and holy seaweed-on-your-doorstep, is it storming.

There’s little you can do to distract yourself while staying and working at Shuzenji’s bed and breakfast. There are currently no guests, aside from you, so all the rooms are made, and the old lady is on another one of her long vacations, so you’re basically being paid to lounge. You’re grateful for that, at least. But the only thing that’s keeping you physically separated from the terrifying weather is a thick glass pane that water sloshes on every time a wave laps over the backyard walls.

The things that separate you mentally are the old-timey recordings of Shuzenji singing alongside an ensemble cast, and the little device in your hand. If you didn’t have your boss’s haunting melodies echoing throughout the house, and some big, beefy, tatted eye-candy to gawk at during the storm, you’d surely go insane.

Eijirou Kirishima, one of the island’s best surfers, is out on his board, live-streaming his current fight against the waves. His whoops and hollers can be heard over the crashing tides, getting even you excited for what’s about to come. That’s the thing about Kirishima; he’s wild, you’re not, and it’s hot as hell. Oftentimes, you catch yourself daydreaming about joining him out in the surf—he guides you through the waves, maybe yoou impress him a bit with your sudden affinity for wave-riding, and the two of you wash up on shore where you’ll both share your first kiss. It would be feasible if you could swim. It would be feasible if you bothered to learn how to swim, but for now, you’re content with your imagination. At least he can make you hate the terrible weather a little less.

The conspiratorial smirk he shows the camera is borderline swoon-worthy when the swell begins to pull him further out. It’s impossible not to bite your lip every time you catch a glimpse of his arms forcing themselves through the sea. He makes this look easy—like the storm is child’s play, and as the winds blow Shuzenji’s trash bin into the sliding glass door, you welcome the delicious distraction.

As Kirishima stands up on his signature trident board and rides one of the biggest waves he’s seen all day, you’re once again struck with how much of a coward you are. He can fight the elements, while you can hardly bring yourself the courage to talk to him. Mind you, he’s constantly surrounded by a close group of friends—a close group of friends you find intimidating—and when he’s not with them, he’s out in the water. Where there’s water involved, you’re spoken for. Unless, of course, you’d like for the first time you guys actually speak, to be when he’s giving you CPR.

Not the most ideal “meet cute”, but if it works, it works.

A loud crash snaps you out of your admittedly salty daydream. Mango, Shuzenji’s orange tabby, yowls at the blanket of water cascading down the windows, and your stomach sinks. There’s only so many minutes you can pretend that the storm Kirishima is facing isn’t the one that’s destroying Shuzenji’s yard.

With a sigh, you roll off the velvet couch, and grimace when crumbs that were nesting in your shirt fall to the carpet: a mess to clean up later. Without any guests to mind, you don’t have to worry too much over keeping the place spick-and-span, so long as things are nice and tighty by the time the old lady gets back, which will be awhile.

You have an easy enough job—at least, when there aren’t bunches of thick seaweeds crashing over the yard’s wall, flooding the pool.

“Shit.”

Water sprays in every direction. The already trash-infested pool overflows as more kelp rolls in with the maniacal waves, and angry, white foam bangs on the back door. It's a disaster outside, and you’re not sure what to do about it.

Fingers wrapped around the back door handle, you struggle to think of a way to prevent a bigger mess, but even if you could manage to clean anything, nothing is stopping the tempest from wreaking anymore havoc. Best case scenario, you stop a plastic soda-chain from washing out to see and becoming a deadly necklace for an unlucky seagull. Worst case scenario, you slip, crack your head open on the pavement, and drown before you can ever utter the words “mahalo” to Kirishima.

Needless to say, you’ll take your life over a gull’s any day.

Another sigh.

A greater wave collides against the wall, bringing more of the Great Unknown into the pool. This is going to be a fun job to clean. Good thing you’ve got Shuzenji’s service boy, Denki Kaminari, on speed dial. You think if you sound particularly distressed in the morning, he’ll show up to help you out with just about anything in the matter of minutes. God bless desperate fuckboys.

So, for now, you cuddle back up on the couch, watch Kirishima shake saltwater out of his thick, red hair, and pretend that his storm is not the same thing as your storm.

It’s early morning when you finally rise out of bed. You hadn’t gotten a whole lot of rest—something to do with the wailing winds shaking your bedroom window nonstop, but after you finally drifted into dreams about snakes and dragons, you woke to clear skies, and light seagull calls.

From the second story, you can see early birds have already gotten the jump on cleaning up the beach. The sun is shining, the ocean blue and vast. The only trace there was ever a storm is already being taken care of. There are lifeguards riding around on ATVs and younger civilians with trash bags and grapplers picking up seaweed and absconded debris. The respect everyone has for the island is something to be admired, and you half-consider going out there yourself, after you’ve dealt with your yard, which is sure to be a wreck.

There’s no interest in picking out a cute outfit for the morning you’re going to have, even if Denki might see you, so you throw on a already-worn-this-week crop top, some pink shirts, and you’re good to go.

The first thing you do after Mango’s fed is check your socials. Kirishima posted a picture of his breakfast: a hefty plate with three eggs, sausage links, bacon, cut avocado, and what seems to be low-carb toast. The post reads, gotta eat ur gainz 2 gain ur gainz, and it’s so ridiculous that you’re infatuated with this reckless himbo. You wonder if you’d ever be able to hold an intellectual conversation with him, if you could ever manage to speak to him in the first place, but conversation wouldn’t matter if his mouth was between your thighs.

Following his example, you crack two eggs over a frying pan, sigh at the mostly empty fridge, then agonize over the state of Shuzenji’s yard. It’s worse than you thought it’d be. The pool is a sickly green color, and from where you’re standing inside, its murky depths seem to be almost opaque from the seaweed and garbage stewing together. Kelp litters the beige pavement, and there’s trash hiding in the shrubs. There’s a chocolate donut floaty bobbing around in there, too, and Shuzenji doesn’t own any floaties.

What a drag.

Before you get too far in your head about everything you’ll need to do to clean up, you quickly dial Denki’s number. He picks up after a ring and a half.

“I know what you’re about to ask,” says the boy on the line, and from his cocky tone, you can assume it’s not going to be about the cleanup. “I am absolutely free tonight. If you wanted to grab drinks at the Salty Barrel, maybe go on a romantic rendezvous out on the beach, watch the sunset on or in a couple blankets, I wouldn’t complain.”

“I’m not calling to ask you on a date, Kaminari,” you say as you step outside. The pavement is cold underneath your bare feet, and you have to tip-toe around to be sure not to let any kelp touch your skin. Yuck.

“But you’re not, not calling about a date, either,” he counters. By the volume of his voice, you can tell that he’s in his van, talking to you over the speaker. Good. So he’s already out and about.

“I need you to tell me how to drain Shuzenji’s pool.” Call you cold, but you’re used to Denki’s flirty nature by now, and you’ve learned that the best way to deal with it, is to not acknowledge it. Of course, you can’t be too callous when it comes to him, especially when you actually need his help. You eye the dangerously complex-looking valves off to the side of the house, and grimace. “There’s too many twisty thingies! I’m not sure what to do!”

“Now, hold your horses, little lady! Don’t go twisting any thingies just yet. Draining a pool is a process.” There’s a long pause, the loud growl of an engine, then silence. He’d pulled over to talk to you. “How’s your TDL? And what kinda PVC pipes you got?”

“The huh and what?” You don’t need to pretend to be in distress—you have no idea what he’s talking about.

“Listen, don’t touch anything. You’re calling because the pool’s a mess right now, right? You don’t need to drain it; at least, not yet. I can swing by in an hour or so to clean it, but I’ve gotta make some stops first. You’re not the only single woman who wants to watch me do my thang, especially not after yesterday.”

“It’s so bad, Kaminari.” The water in the pool sloshes around, like there’s actually something in it causing the water to ungulate and burble. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Don’t worry your pretty, little head over it. You've got me, okay? It’s my job to protect and serve.”

“You’re not a cop.”

“Nope, I’m better than a cop. I’m a pool guy.”

He goes on to ask you to check out what kind of drain the pool has, if you can find the drain, then loses you when he starts talking numbers and gallons. While still on the phone, you send a few texts to Shuzenji, explaining the predicament, then Denki mentions rates. You’re getting the cutie pie discount, doubled because he counts Shuzenji as a “cutie pie” too—something you mention to her because she’ll get a kick out of it—then he drops all business to ask about food.

“I’m cooking my breakfast,” you say with a wary glance back at the house.

“But is your breakfast fries and a shake from Tiki Burger?”

You bite your lip as your stomach growls its empty sorrow. “No.”

“Would you like it to be?” His knowing grin is heard through the line.

“…I’m not gonna go out with you.”

He chuckles and you’re grateful that he can’t see your answering smile. “We’ll see how you feel after you see me work my magic. And hey, if you’d like me to wear a Speedo while I work—“

“You’ll be here in an hour?” You cut him off, because Denki in a Speedo is the last thing you need on your mind. The thought of Kirishima in a Speedo, however, gets you a little hot, which is saying a lot, since you’re a part of the Speedos and Dolphin-shorts Are Abominations To Swimwear belief system.

“Maybe sooner. I think my next client just needs me to check out their chemical levels. Inside pool and all. Everyone else knew to put a tarp out.”

The tarp you had blew away, but you don’t bother explaining that to Denki. Let him believe you’re the dim-witted “little lady” he wants you to be. If it means Shuzenji gets a discount, not that she can’t afford any bill Denki’s company throws at her, then let him believe you can’t open a pickle jar without a man’s help for all you care.  

“See you then,” you say, and end the call. There will be time to work on your charm once Denki gets here. Until then, you figure you could do some investigating so you’re not completely helpless.

Leaving your phone on the pavement so you don’t accidentally drop it in the water, you make your way around the pool to where you think you remember the drain being. You can’t say you’ll know what kind of drain it is, but if you remember correctly, it’s circular, and like, kinda meshy? That description simply won’t do.

Dropping down to your knees, you peer down into the pool, squinting, as if that can help you see through all the muck. There’s definitely a lot of kelp and algae, sand drifting through the water, someone’s wayward brazier, and oh. A school of fish—little babies circling about. It’s wild, but you suppose it could be possible if all the chlorine washed out and there was enough salt water to sustain marine life.

The fish move together, bopping into each other, mouths gaping open to eat whatever they find in their temporary home. You don’t know enough about marine life to know what kind of fish they are. Silvery little things. Maybe Denki has something that can help transport them from the pool to the ocean. It’s not far—Shuzenji’s house is on the beach. It would be a shame if all the little fish had to die. You don’t particularly care about touching or feeding fish, but a life is a life, and if they can be saved, you’d at least like to try.

But all your thoughts of saving fish life stop when you catch something moving in the water. It’s not the fish—they’re not that big, but it’s definitely fishlike. Fish plus. It moves like a shadow, serpentine and fluid. You catch a glimpse of scales, so it’s definitely not a dolphin—even then, it’s bigger than a dolphin, and more graceful than a shark. You begin thinking of leviathan, and other mythical creatures, as ridiculous as that is, when you see a long flowing fluke.

Okay. This thing is not just big. It’s gargantuan, and to see this much of the creature without seeing its head makes your skin crawl. You imagine falling in and being swallowed whole, suffocating in the dark, drowning in a monster’s belly.

The thought spooks you static, just in time to meet a pair of eyes in the water. This is your overactive imagination—you’re scaring yourself insane, but you don’t look away, and those eyes, almost human and curious, don’t disappear.

You’ve consumed enough media to know how these impossible interactions go. The creature is inquisitive, but keeps its distance. It often has to be coaxed out of hiding, and even then, the thing is skittish and untrusting. You’re certainly not one to go “pspsps, hey little guy, I’m not gonna hurt you,” but even if you were, you don’t get the chance, because this thing you’re looking at isn’t the least bit skittish, and in one second, you’re making eyes at at it, and in the next, the thing is exploding out of the water.

A large, broad chest towers over you. The thing pushes itself up with arms, human arms, but it’s anything but human. Sure, it has hair, although an odd purple color, framing its angular face and jaw, which are both human enough. Also framing its face are a pair of long, pointed fins sticking out from where human ears should be. Water dribbles down its chest, down to its navel—its navel. Your brain screams mammal, but underneath its navel are scales, rippling down to where its legs should be. Not human. Not fish.

Fish plus.

Man.

Fish plus man.

Fish-man.

Its eyes are almost the same color as its hair, only a shade lighter, and much sharper, narrowed in on you. It’s glaring. You realize this at the same time you realize that you're staring at it with your mouth agape. This would be so rude in any other setting. It’s also rude to pop out of a pool that isn’t yours without any other warning, but you’re not about to chastise the thing. You’re far too scared.

Then the thing reaches out to you, sprinkling water on your thighs and your shirt. Its hands look like a man’s hand, but its long fingers are connected by thin, indigo webbing that matches its tail. Its tail. You lose focus trying to find the word for this creature that’s barely on the tip of your tongue, when you realize the palm of its hand, its fishy, webby hand, is hovering over your cheek, the other carefully placed next to your knee to keep it upright.

You open your mouth to speak, but only a hiss comes out. The creature, wary, brings its hand back, but only slightly. Not enough to put you at ease, but enough to allow you to gain your composure, and scream.

“H-help!!!” You screech. “Help! Somebody! Help me!”

It claps its hand over your mouth, knocking you back. Water drips down on your shirt as it leans in, mouth curling up with distaste. Then, it does something impossible.

It speaks.

“So loud,” it growls in a low, masculine timbre.

It speaks, you think, it speaks and it has no manners!

You try to yell back, probably something with little thought, but you have a mouth full of fish-man hand, and the more you warble in its palm, the more apathetic it appears.

“Be quiet and still,” it commands, as if obeying it is supposed to be the most natural thing—something it expects from you. It catches you so off-guard that you actually listen, only trembling a little bit as those indigo eyes scan over your form. It’s uncomfortable having an unknown but cognizant creature observe you so closely. You shiver when its gaze roams over your belly, down your legs. You want to curl your legs up, move away, but you’re afraid if you even twitch more than it’s comfortable with, it’ll grab you and drag you into the pool. Your nightmare.

Instead, it does something slightly less worse. It moves its hand from your mouth to your cheek. The palm of its hand warms your skin in an unnatural way, like you’ve been laying in the sun for half an hour and it’s only your cheek that heats up. The creature's eyes widen as light begins to emanate, either from you, or from it, you’re not sure, but definitely from where it touches you. Tingles run from your neck down to your spine, and you wish you’d put a bra on before going outside, because this thing’s touch is making your body react in a way that it shouldn’t.

“So easy,” it purrs appraisingly, somewhat less insolent, but you’re still taken aback, ears hot with embarrassment.

Un-fucking-likely.

“Easy?!” You squawk out. “What do you mean by easy?”

It doesn’t answer you, and instead, moves its fingers from your cheek, down your jaw, to your chin. It begins leaning closer, heavy lids closing. You notice its lips for the first time: a defined line and a pretty bow. If you were in a less dire situation, you’d be able to admit that they’re very nice lips, but they’re getting closer to you, closer still, and you realize with a jolt what it’s trying to do.

Your foot meets its chest in a heartbeat.

“Nope!” You belt out, extending your leg so there’s more distance between you and the impolite beast. “Not today, fish-breath!”

Unperturbed, it lifts a lazy brow. Then, to your absolute horror, it presses both of its hands into your bare leg, and again you’re lit up, warm, and tingly, only far worse than before. Stomach tightening, you make a choked noise, trying to hold in the sigh that claws at your throat.

“Fish-breath.” It repeats your insult like it’s a balled-up piece of paper to be thrown in the trash. “I’ve been told that my aroma is quite appealing.”

“By whom? Other fish-breaths?!” You wriggle your leg out of his embrace, or whatever you could call that invasion, only to have it slip down so your foot rests in the fish-man’s hands, bright as the stars in the sky. “Eww ew! Don’t touch me! Get away!”

The creature scoffs, but let’s you go, and you both watch as the light disappears from the arch of your foot where he’d been touching. Fish-man slinks back into the murky water, hiding under a blanket of algae.

You have enough time to gather your composure, wipe the water droplets off your face, and rub your eyes. For a moment, you try to convince yourself that this has all been a sleep-deprived hallucination, but you’ve never really been one to delude yourself, unless your Kirishima fantasies were involved, and you know that you’ll have to try another tactic to accept the reality of your situation. Perhaps you can try to be civil with this creature, ask it if it’s…hurt, or if it needs a late night escort to get it back to the sea. But then, the thing resurfaces on the opposite end of the pool. It faces you, and leans back against the wall, arms spread out against the pavement, basking.

“You know,” he says, “your decorum is severely lacking. Don’t humans have classes that teach them proper etiquette—how to be more polite towards their guests and such?”

What’s lacking is your patience for marine life.

Standing up, you take in the thing, which you’re now pretty sure is in fact a man of sorts, in its entirety. His tail is long, longer than human legs, extending past the halfway mark of the pool, if your measurement counts his fluke. There’s a golden cuff on his right arm that spirals around, accentuating his large biceps. You stubbornly admit that it’s attractive—he’s attractive, at least, he would be for people who were into fish and not surfers. You brush whatever you’re feeling in the pit of your stomach off by telling yourself that you’re simply awestruck, and move on.

“Where I’m from-“ you begin, straightening your sodden crop top- “we offer our guests various beverages and snacks, depending on the time of day.”

Annoyingly, he looks interested.

“Since it’s the morning, I’d offer a guest tea, or coffee, and if I’m looking to impress, I’d maybe cook them a hot meal.”

The creature offers you a sardonic smile. “I happen to be famished.”

“However, with home-invaders, we’re more likely to pull a gun on them before heating up the earl grey.”

He loses the smile, and you’re glad that he might have an inkling of what a gun is. You’ve never owned one, and they don’t allow firearms on the island, but the threat stands. But if he was intimidated, even for a moment, he doesn’t show it anymore, and proves just that by turning his back on you, and resting his head in his arms. He has a dorsal fin with what looks to be a deep, x-shaped scar near his tailbone. You try not to wonder what that could’ve been from.

“Then how do you propose I go from a home-invader, to a house guest?” Asks the creature with little interest.

Cautiously walking around the pool with your arms crossed, you begin to list things off for the far-too-comfortable fish-man.

“You can start by telling me who you are, what you are, why you’re here, what you want, and why you think you can lay your webbed hands on me.”

“Oh, is that all?” He hums noncommittally. Content. Aggravating. “Why don’t you start then? Who are you, and why are you here?”

The back of your neck grows hot and uncomfortable. “How entitled do you have to be to—!” You start, but you’re swiftly cut off by the shrieking of the fire alarm. Smoke plumes from outside the house’s windows, and you curse under your breath before darting towards the door. You’d completely forgotten about your eggs.

In your haste to move the pan off the stove, you burn your fingers and drop the pan to the kitchen floor, two blackened egg crisps flaking off and diving in different directions. Mango yowls at the commotion and investigates one of the fallen egg crisps. Before you can tell him to buzz off, he loses interest in your mess, not bothering to give it a taste. You don’t blame him, but the eggs didn’t appear to be cat-bad. Ah, you can’t kid yourself. They are cat-bad. They’re completely inedible. Now you’re going to have to head to the market, while worrying about a man trapped in Shuzenji’s pool.

Your stomach roars at you.

After cleaning the mess as best as you could while desperately and ruefully wanting to return to your guest—no, not guest—invader, you get the alarm, half-heartedly fan the smoke out of the house, and return. Angry. This guy better start talking soon, or things are going to get ugly.

To your utter displeasure, he looks all the more amused at your newer, messier state.

“Was that supposed to be the hot meal,” he asks, cocky. “Because if so, I’ll pass.”

Instead of biting his head off like you’d like to, you present him with the still-dirty frying pan, pointing it at his head like you intend to use it.

“Start talking, fish-for-brains.”

The beast snickers, raising his hands in the air in mock-surrender. “Easy there, tiger shark. You know how to use that thing?”

You refuse to humor him. Instead, you keep your scowl tight, your arms steady. If he’s not threatened, he’ll lose interest in this game, then he’ll have to talk.

Lo and behold, you’re right. The fish-man rolls his eyes, and looks at you, again, with apathy.

“My name is Hitoshi Shinsou,” he says, lackadaisical, like he’s already bored of himself. “I’m one of Ryūjin. What humans have learned to call merpeople are actually descendants of the sea gods who lived centuries ago. I’m here, simply because the storm washed me here. What I want is to retrieve what’s mine. I thought I could lay my webbed hands on you—well-“ the corner of his mouth tilts up-“darlin’, it was because your body reacted to me.”

Mouth forming the beginning of a question that never comes, you stare in disbelief at this myth. Then the last thing he said dawns at you.

“I did not react to you!” You rebuke, steady hands now shaking.

“Oh no?” He says, but it’s not a question. It’s a challenge.

Hitoshi grabs the flat end of the frying pan and yanks it, and you, closer to him, closer to the water. You cringe and whine when a wet, webby hand closes around your wrist. Inadvertently, you drop the pan, but he pays it no mind as it sinks past his tail. Your skin begins to glow underneath his palms, and the tingles come back, shooting up your arm, causing tiny goosebumps to appear.

“Would you look at that,” Hitoshi croons, slow and almost sensuously. His indigo eyes narrow on your index finger where you’d burned yourself. To add to this nightmare, he closes his lips around it, and begins to suck. Your stomach flips, and you’re not sure if it’s because you’re disgusted, or scared, or…enjoying the feeling of his warm mouth, his tongue, touching your skin.

“Stop.” It’s a whisper. It means nothing. You think you want it to mean something, but your thoughts are buzzing into a blur. Knees growing weak, you descend, leaning closer to him, not caring about the water or the seaweed or the fish, and instead, entirely focused on his mouth. It’s glowing, his mouth. Faintly. Like a single candle lit in an otherwise empty room.

When he eases off of you, he runs his thumb over your now-healed finger, and let’s your arm fall limply at your side.

“All better,” he whispers back at you.

There are prickles all over your skin once you regain an ounce of dignity.

“What the hell was that?” You ask, breathless for no other reason than shock.

“The glowing?” He asks. “The healing?”

“Both.”

“Your reaction to me.” He’s cocky again. This is something sick. Mythical creature or not, this has got to be a game he plays, washing into people’s pools, causing problems, sucking on lonely girls’ fingers. He probably gets his kicks this way, and uses whatever other kind of magic he has to erase whoever he’s tormenting’s memories, if he doesn’t end up eating them when he’s done. Bogus.

You won’t let him get to you.

“Alright, Hitoshi Shinsou, how would you like me to get you back into the ocean? You healed my finger-“ although it’s essentially his fault you were burned to begin with, if you take into account the sequence of events-“so helping you out is the least that I can do.”

“I could use your help,” he muses lightly, turning his body back around to his chest and abdomen are turned towards  the sun. You tell yourself not to stare like you know he probably wants you to. Though his eyes are closed, he peeps at you, sneaking a glance. “I don’t want to go back into the ocean, though. Not until I get what’s mine.”

With the might of a girl who just wants to go back inside and scroll through her phone, you swallow your bite, and ask, “what would that be?”

“Oh, this and that-“ he waves his hand around dismissively-“other things.”

With the might of a girl who just wants to go back inside and find another frying pan, you say, “alright, listen. Someone is on their way to the house to clean the pool. I don’t know what one of Ryūjin means, but I’m guessing people like you don’t always want to be discovered by people like us. So you either tell me what it is you need, or see how my pool guy reacts to a mermaid lounging around in my backyard! I wouldn’t put it against him to call the local news station. Get this place flooding with cameras. Does that sound like a pretty picture to you?”

Absolutely none of your threats penetrate Hitoshi’s cool nature. In fact, he laughs.

“When he gets here,” the merman drawls, knowing he’s got you hanging on every word, “invite him to swim.”

[existslikepristin]

Please, No Virginity Puns

The most recent thing I posted before tumblr. It was on Choerry's birthday, and I am proud of that.

Tags: TheLounge, Loona, Choerry, male reader insert, it's her birthday!, 100% butt stuff, I ate a thesaurus

~~~~~

It didn’t matter what you had to say anymore. Choerry was already on top of you, nude and keeping you muted with her tongue. How did you get there?

Well, moments prior, you were sitting next to Choerry at your small dinner table. She’s always insisted on sitting as close to you as possible in order to enable near-constant snuggling. It’s gotten a little annoying here and there, but you can’t help but concede to her innocent demands whenever she smiles.

Of course, and not that you’ve ever complained about this, that’s not to say that her demands aren’t always entirely innocent. Most of the time they are, but not always.

That day, for example, you woke her up with breakfast in bed. It wasn’t tradition, but you were just getting her back for the last time she did it for you. And what better day to present her, prone, with a pancake, pulverized potato, and porridge parfait platter… with toppings… than her birthday?!

It can be hard to tell if Choerry is acting or not at times, but you’d like to think that her cartoonish level of enthusiasm for the treat was entirely real. She carried that sunshine throughout the rest of your day, skipping through the park, greeting everybody on the way to, inside, and on the way out of The Lounge, at the surprise party that you helped all of her members get her with, and when she dragged you to her room.

Not a drop of alcohol had touched her lips that night, so it was all the more surprising when she shoved you onto her bed and stated matter-of-factly-but-also-vaguely that she wanted you to put a thing in her butt. Her words came out of her mouth like shimmery soap bubbles.

You had to pause for a moment to process her words. You were certainly up for some sexy times with Choerry. You had anticipated it was going to happen when she put your hand down her pants near the end of the birthday party with no attempt at subtlety. But her exact word choices had you rubbing your temples out of exasperation, even as she stripped herself down to her ridiculously cherry red lingerie.

Your chance to admire that rare view was lost to history, however. She removed the lingerie from her body while she claimed your lips. Your disappointment at not getting the opportunity to remove it yourself quickly faded when she popped back up though.

Her breasts were as perky as her attitude, and also your dick. She was quick to notice the latter and made quick work of your clothes too. She sighed satisfactorily at the sight of your sword and stooped to supply it with a suck and some slickening slobber, so you suspected the sex was starting summarily; more swiftly than standard, it seemed.

Concerned for her well being, you made sure to ask if she had lube available. Again, you weren’t going to complain about her gusto, but she lacked the anal experience that some of your mutual friends had, at least you assumed. Sure enough, there was a bottle mere feet from her reach in her drawer. She grabbed it and jumped back on top of you, pouring it generously over her ass crack and your cock with surprising accuracy for someone so engaged with a hot and heavy kiss.

You were sure you had something to say on the matter. Perhaps some additional words of caution, maybe some other words of encouragement. It didn’t matter what you had to say anymore. Choerry was already on top of you, nude and keeping you muted with her tongue. How did you-- come back around to the exact same thought that the story began with?

“It’s okay, right?”

You attempted to blink away your stupefaction. “O-okay?”

“Mhm! For me to… you know!” She leaned in and whispered directly into your ear, “Put your penis in my butt.”

Ah, yes. The demand that you had nearly forgotten in her flurry of kisses, now slightly reworded to include your dick in the equation. “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”

“Just checking!”

“We’ve… done this before.”

“I know!” Choerry swooped back in to continue kissing you, implying that she had no intention of expounding further. Her fingers wrapped around your cock, massaging the whole length to ensure that the lube had maximum coverage.

Your breath caught as you felt her readjusting you, tapping you around between her legs as she tried to match you up with her intended target purely via exploration. Your cock was ground between her ass cheeks, the tip slid over her clit, and dipped briefly into her pussy. A groan was the only complaint you could give to only being given a half second of her fantastic heat.

You didn’t have to wait long to get it back. Her ass opened up to the pressure she applied against it with your dick, but exceptionally slowly. Choerry released a series of little exclamations into your mouth as she pushed. She tossed the lube bottle to the side and snatched your hand, curling her fingers into your palm.

Finally, the last pop came, and was followed by a short slide. With no more manual guidance necessary, she grabbed your other hand as well, which promptly slipped out of her grip considering the amount of lube present.

Choerry released you from your kissy bliss to look at her slippery hand, a mixture of anger and amusement on her face. She tried a couple more times to hold your hand with it, but you liked this look. You easily slithered your hand out from under hers every time she slapped down. It was like watching a cat trying to catch a laser pointer.

It was just another reminder that no matter how deep inside Choerry you may physically be, she’ll never stop bringing a goofy-ass smile to your face.

Finally, you relented and entwined your fingers with hers, locking your knuckles together so you wouldn’t fall apart. She glared down into your eyes, but a grin still crept through. “Thank you,” she said, lips tight and nose scrunched up.

With you fully in her grasp, Choerry straightened herself up, allowing you the opportunity to look up and down her sublime figure. Though her movement caused her to cause you to penetrate her a bit further which caused her to flinch slightly, she kept herself aloft on her knees to not go too far all at once. She closed her eyes and took a series of deep breaths there, as calmly as if she was meditating.

As much as you wanted to go ham on her ham, you didn’t want to hurt her, so you contented yourself with watching her chest rise and fall. “Happy birthday…” you whispered.

“You’ve already told me that today,” Choerry intoned, eyes still closed like she was drifting off into her own little world.

You laughed. “I was saying it to myself! Have you seen you?”

She smiled again, and said three words in a voice that made it seem like she was speaking to an audience on the edge of their seats, “Okay, I’m ready.”

Her fingers constricted around yours, so you questioned if she was, in fact, ready. But you wouldn’t be the one to stop her.

Choerry’s tight tush trucked its way toward the top of your tower twice to tighten her take on the task at the time, before torturously trending testicle-ward. She temporized without taking your entire tool.

So hypnotized were you with her graceful movement that you didn’t even notice the frustrated moan coming up your throat until it was too late.

Her eyes popped open. “I’m sorry!” She sounded like she meant it, too. “This is… tough.”

“Take your time,” you said, straining your voice for comic effect.

“Could have used that four paragraphs ago,” she said, continuing her extremely slow descent down your shaft.

The odd statement distracted you just long enough for Choerry to finish her drop. No longer did space separate your pelvises. You grew concerned again when she winced and bit her lip from the inside.

“Choerry, we really can do something else. Don’t hurt yourself please.”

She gave you an exaggerated, indignant gander. “Rhetorical question: Who gets to choose the cake on her birthday?”

You held in your “cake” joke.

“It’s me,” Choerry’s voice was far too chipper to make this talking-to sound as stern as you were sure she wanted it to come across as. “As birthday lady, I get to pick the cake, and I get to feed it to you if I want to.”

You held in your “cake feeding” joke.

“And tonight, the cake I pick is my bum.”

You opened your mouth to comment on her most excellent selection of the word “bum” in the midst of a scenario where your cock is fully inside of said bum, but you instead gasped a sharp breath.

Choerry ground forward, pulling your dick with her and anointing the lowermost part of your stomach with the juices being lightly sprinkled from her clit.

“Besiiides,” she continued, re-angling her hands to she could tickle the backs of yours, “We have all the lube! Even some that’s got a certain special flavor to it!”

“Just some?”

“Yeah, ooh,” she crooned, apparently quite enjoying the grind back down your pelvis, “I didn’t get it all at once. Now guess the flavor!”

You waited for her grinding to pause again to be able to think straight, “Does it start with a ‘C?’”

Her smile grew. “Yes!”

“Is it a fruit?”

“Yes!”

“Is it… cherry?”

“Failure!”

“Wha--”

“It’s coconut!”

If you weren’t so established in your hand holding with Choerry, you’d have palmed your face. Thankfully, thoughts of how she could have possibly expected you to guess that were pushed to the back of your mind as she resumed her removal of your breath with a series of fanciful body rolls.

Finally fucking her fanny felt fictional. For while not the first foray there, far-fetched was the philosophy that it was fielded often, the front being the favored fornication fissure for the foreseeable future. Unless, of course, you could make this an especially special session.

But woe was unto you. Choerry had the upper hand(s) figuratively as well as literally. But, perhaps, you thought, this was exactly what she wanted and you could wait your damn turn to take control.

And you liked letting her anally probe herself this way, so, you know, what were you to do but enjoy the ride?

Over the course of her self-imposed ravaging, Choerry’s meditative breaths became ragged. Her eyelids fluttered at regular intervals. Through it all, she held her phantasmagorical demeanor. A couple of times she reached for the lube bottle and shotgunned it somewhat inaccurately between her legs, but it did the job. You were happy to see that she was still considering her own comfort.

In fact, to your surprise, her mouth opened wide in a silent shout. Her core trembled anticipatorily. Her hands held yours with a colossally increased lewdness. And those two mystical words trickled from her tongue with a high-pitched susurration, “I’m… cumming…”

Choerry’s grinding came to a grinding halt. Her body jerked and she fell onto you. Your cock sprang free of her ass in, and as a result of, the same motion.

You untangled one of your hands to stroke her back in the most adoring fashion you could muster. After chewing on a thesaurus for the prior hour, you were sure neither of you really needed any more words.

She stayed there for a spell, and you were happy to let her. It was so late it was nearly no longer her birthday, but her birthday it still was. She deserved the rest, along with the rest of your undivided attention.

Her whole movement consisted of her back going up and down as her lungs attempted to revive her fighting spirit, and her thumb lovingly shifting over the divinatory lines on your palm. You wished she would do something about her hair plastered on your chin, but ninety-nine percent of paradise is paradise enough.

You were disappointed when Choerry rose once more, slimily straddling your stomach. She detached her hands from yours to give the hair on either side of her face a good backward flick over her shoulders, and she sighed with contentment.

It was a shock to hear her speak again after such a prolonged reticence, but her unerringly cheerful voice was entirely welcome nonetheless.

“More please.”

You couldn’t then, and you still can’t help but concede to her innocent demands. Her smile just touched the corner of her lips. Sure, some of her demands aren’t so innocent, but… How did you get here again?

[youngbeezer]

hi!! can I please request something?

going to a lake house, maybe friends to lovers with bowen byram?

thank you! 💗.

A/N: HI IM SO SORRY THIS LITERALLY TOOK 4 EVER!!! i was having such bad writer's block with also zero motivation, but i eventually put a little something together and i hope whoever requested this first off actually sees this bc seriously its been a good month of this sitting in my inbox but also i hope you like it :)

Word Count: 2940

Warning(s): kinda angsty in beginning, curse words, ends fluffy !!!

masterlist || join my taglist

These next few days is either going to turn out to be the best week of the summer, or the most awkward week of the summer...

I’m currently stuck in a car surrounded by couples on our way to a lake house in Colorado. Somehow I ended up being lumped into this chaotic group of professional hockey players and their drop-dead gorgeous significant others.

About a year ago at my local salon, I just so happened to be seated right next to a woman named Grace, who I immediately hit it off with. We became fast friends and are now basically inseparable at this point. Her boyfriend just so happens to play hockey for the Colorado Avalanche, Cale Makar. Now I have also grown quite close with Cale as well, since I am always at their shared apartment for Grace. At this point Cale is basically third wheeling us, instead of it being the other way around. Therefore I was also always invited to team parties and get-togethers, which prompted more friendships with most of the guys on the team and their respective partners.

Someone I have surprisingly grown super close with is Bowen Byram. As soon as Cale introduced us two, his blue eyes and raspy voice immediately drew me in. Straight away we bonded over common interests and that night we talked for almost three hours. After that, we were thick as thieves. So thick that recently I have come to the realization that I have caught major feelings for him along the way.

It has only been a few weeks since I have come to this realization and it has already started to affect our relationship. I definitely started to ignore Bowen a little bit when I first figured out my feelings because I was scared he would somehow find out or I would just end up blurting it out at some point. And the last thing I want is for my silly feelings to ruin such a great friendship.

Thus why this week can either turn out to be the best or the worst.

I’ve decided that at some point during this trip I need to confess my feelings for Bowen. He’s also seemed to notice the shift in my attitude towards him. I have become more closed off and not as touchy as we used to be. Bowen and I are both very touchy/feely types of people. So what seemed like just some harmless cuddling and play wrestling with each other, to me did very little to quell down my feelings.

For example, this morning when we were packing up the cars for the trip a group of us are taking to Tyson Jost’s lakehouse, Bowen went to wrap his arms around my middle from the back and I subconsciously flinched away at his touch. I know he definitely noticed my mood shift from the defiant pout that was resting on his face. After that I did what I do best, and ran away to the other car that was driving up and basically begged Nate to switch seats with me.

Which now leads to my current thoughts. The entire car ride up I have been contemplating on ways I could tell him, but each scenario just ended up with him telling me that he doesn’t feel the same, and our friendship essentially being over. Obviously I was just overthinking just a little, but I’ve never been stuck in a situation like this before-- and now we are going to be stuck in a lake house together for an entire week, so I am going to be forced to face this situation whether I want to or not.

“Yo. Earth to y/n?” Tyson draws, trying to gain my attention. I snap out of my thoughts as soon as I hear my name, and bring my gaze to the rearview mirror to meet Tyson’s questioning look. “We’re here.” He announces.

Susanna, Mikko’s girlfriend, adds on, “You alright? You seemed kind of out of it the entire car ride.”

I shake my head to try and clear my thoughts and notice that we are indeed here at the lake house we will be staying at for the next week. I clear my dried up throat before croaking out a weak, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just don’t like long car rides.”

Both of them nod, content with my answer and exit the car to join Mikko in unloading all of the luggage from the trunk. I take a few more moments to fully get my head together after dealing with all my jumbled thoughts throughout the entire three hour car ride.

Jumping out of the car, the first thing I see is Bowen letting out a yawn and stretching out. As his arms raise over his head, some of his shirt rises up with it and immediately my eyes are drawn to the small portion of skin and v-line that is in front of me. Bowen then notices my presence and makes eye contact with me, giving me one of his adorable little smiles. I advert my gaze as quickly as I can so my obvious ogling isn’t as obvious and go to finally retrieve my luggage.

Yeah this was gonna be a long week.

…

After everyone got pretty much all settled into their rooms, we all ended up coming back together to sit around the firepit to chat and enjoy some drinks. For this trip that Tyson orchestrated there are in total ten people staying in the house. Me, Tyson, obviously since it’s his house; Bowen, Cale, Grace, Alex Newhook, Mikko and his girlfriend Susanna, and lastly Nate and his supposed new girl who will be joining us later on in the week.

Apparently a group of the guys and their partners have been taking trips together at the end of the hockey season for a while now, and since growing closer with the team this year, I graciously got an invite.

Since it was getting later and a little bit more chilly, I grabbed a random sweatshirt that I saw already laying around in the living room before making my way outside to join everyone by the firepit. Getting closer I noticed that the only seat available just so happened to be next to Bowen.

Cale and Grace give each other a not so inconspicuous knowing look when they see me approaching. As soon as I sit down, a question is being thrown at me.

“Whose sweatshirt is that y/n?” Cale brings everyone's attention to me with a growing smirk on his face.

“I don’t know, I just found it in the living room.” I give Cale a questioning glare, trying to figure what his endgame is right now.

“It’s mine.” I hear that same raspy voice that I love and know so well. I feel my face start heating up at the idea of wearing Bowen’s sweatshirt. Am I wearing his name on my back right now, and I just didn’t even think to check earlier?

“Oh, uh. Sorry, I can give it back to you, if you want it.” I stumble out, now feeling awkward and a little embarrassed about how flustered I am getting over a simple sweatshirt.

Bowen gives me a little smile before replying back, “Nah, it’s fine. It looks better on you anyway.”

I clear my throat and stumble out an awkward ‘thanks’ at Bowen and then turn my attention to Grace right next to me so I don’t embarrass myself even more. What I don’t see though is the way Bowen's face immediately falls when I turn my back on him.

…

Around midnight is when everyone started to make their way back inside the house to start getting ready for bed. I was mindlessly scrolling through my social media, so I didn’t notice that mostly everyone had already gone inside.

“Y/n.” I look up at the mention of my name to notice that Bowen and I are the only ones left outside.

Also noticing the intense gaze I am receiving from Bowen, I quickly gather my things and stumble out, “Oh my gosh I didn’t notice everyone left already. I should head inside as well.”

Bowen is quicker though because he grabs ahold of my wrist, halting me in place before I make my very obvious escape.

“Hold on, please. Can you please talk to me?” Bowen pleads out.

“What do you mean? We’ve been talking all night.” I countered, trying one last time to get out of this conversation.

“We’ve been talking as a group all night yeah, but you couldn’t even make eye contact with me. You know what I mean. What’s been going on? Did I do something?” Bowen frowned.

At that moment I felt so guilty. I’ve been so focused on trying to ignore my feelings that I have developed that I ended up pushing my best friend away and hurting him in the process. I close my eyes and let out a deep breath. I knew I would eventually have to have this talk with Bowen during this week, but I just didn’t expect it to be on the very first night.

“Okay. Yeah, let’s talk.”

I lead the way down to the dock overlooking the lake and sit down to dangle my feet into the water. I know for a fact that Grace and Cale realized that we both haven’t come in behind them, so they are most likely snooping by the backdoor wondering what we are doing.

Bowen joins me, after slipping his shoes off and dangling his feet in as well.

“What’s been going on y/n?” Bowen asks again.

“I-I think I’m in love with you.” I blurt out. I can feel my heartbeat pounding in my ears as I await any type of response from Bowen. Taking a peek over at him, I see the pure shock on his face. Probably wasn’t the best idea to start off the conversation with that.

Taking his silence as a bad sign, I start spewing out whatever I can to try and calm the anxiety coursing through my veins. “I-I think I have known for a while and I just tried to ignore it, I guess. But then I realized that I was just pushing you away, an-and I never wanted to do that. Our friendship means that absolute world to me, and I would hate myself if anything I did, or-or my stupid feelings jeaporized that.” At some point during my little rant, a few tears escaped. I turn my head away as I try to hold back on a full on sob breaking loose.

“You think?” He eventually breaks the silence.

Confusedly, I turned my head back around and let out a strangled, “Huh?” I see the corners of Bowen’s mouth start curving up into a tiny smile, confusing me even more.

“You said, you think you’re in love with me.” He pointed out.

My eyebrows raise in question and I give him a little shrug, prompting him to elaborate more.

“Well… I’m pretty damn sure I’m in love with you.” Bowen softly declared.

My breath catches in my throat and my mouth turns as dry as the Sahara Desert. Those were definitely not the words I was expecting to come out of his mouth. He chuckles at my surprised face and scooches a little closer to my body to wipe a stray tear on my cheek.

“Are you serious?” I whisper out.

“Of course.” He whispered just as softly back to me as his head inched closer to mine.

My heart pounds in my chest as Bowen’s hand comes up to cradle my cheek. All of our pent up feelings and emotions that we both have been too afraid to admit all come crashing together as our lips finally meet. He kissed me gently, almost carefully, but after all this time gentleness was not what I wanted right now. Bowen let out a low groan as I pulled him flush against my body, my fists bunching up the collar of his shirt.

Before this could go any further, we both pull away breathlessly, basking in what truly just happened-- just now realizing how much our relationship is about to change.

“Fuck.” Bowen breathed out, running his hands over his face. “If I knew that was what it was like to kiss you I would’ve blurted out my feelings the day I met you.”

My ears perk up at his last few words and it seems like he also realizes what he just admitted, as his cheeks immediately turn a rosy color.

“You’ve liked me for that long?” I bashfully question.

Bowen runs his fingers through his hair and blows out a breath of air before answering, “Yeah, I-I mean… yeah I have.” He stumbles out, awkwardly letting out a laugh.

I lean my head on his shoulder and connect our hands, feeling super content and never wanting this moment to end. We take a moment to just sit on the dock-- with our feet hanging in the water, hands intertwined; and bask in the feeling of finally letting our feelings out into the open.

“You know everyone in that house is going to have a field day when they find out.” Bowen mumbles against my shoulder, before leaving a lingering kiss on the exposed skin.

“Oh I wouldn’t be surprised if they all had a bet going or something.” I chimed. I raise my head that had previously been resting on Bowen’s shoulder back up to look at him, and see that he is already smiling at me. “What?” I drawled, feeling my cheeks heating up under his gaze.

“You wanna sleep in my bed tonight?” He asked hesitantly.

My cheeks now feel on fire as I ponder on how I want to go about this. I raise my eyebrows up at him in question as I ponder out, “Do you want me in your bed tonight?”

Bowen gives me an almost incredulous look as he voiced, “Of course I want you in my bed.”

I just give him a simple nod and push my body up in a standing position, reaching out my hand to prompt Bowen to join me. “Okay, let’s go.”

Bowen immediately shoots up from his sitting position, clinging onto my hand as we make our way back up the yard to the sliding glass doors of the lake house. Just as I predicted earlier, Cale and Grace were totally snooping. Actually, the entire house was snooping. Everyone was gathered in the kitchen trying to act casual as we walked in, but as soon as they noticed our conjoined hands, all hell broke loose.

“I fucking knew it!”

“Aw you guys look so cute.”

“Bout time.”

“Ha! Nate, you owe me fifty bucks.”

I looked over at Bowen with an unimpressed look, “Told you they probably had a bet going on.” Meanwhile Bowen has an incredulous look coating his face watching his friends freak out over his newfound relationship. Instead of questioning our oddball friends, Bowen just simply shakes his head, letting out a little chuckle.

“Alright I’m heading up, I can’t deal with these idiots right now.” Bowen gives me a quick peck on the lips before announcing his departure for the night. Most of the others also start making their way up to their respective rooms for bed, the guys putting on a show of making kissy noises and making a few chirps as they follow Bowen up the stairs.

Grace joins me by the counter, making a show of wiggling her eyebrows at me. I’m smiling like an idiot as Cale also joins us, chuckling at my lovesick expression.

“You’re welcome.” Cale smirked.

I scrunch my face up in confusion as I question him back, “For what?”

“For introducing you two, duh.” Cale teased. Grace smacks him on the arm with a tut, making a show of rolling her eyes at her boyfriend. “Alright, seriously I am happy for you guys though.” He eventually relents.

My cheeks heat up from the attention but also from the thought of Bowen and I’s new relationship. Grace grabs me by the shoulders and starts pushing me in the direction of the staircase.

“Obviously I’m happy for you too. All I’ve wanted is the best for you and I think Bowen is just that. And with that being said, go get your mans!” She sends me off with a quick smack on my ass. I giggle the whole way up the stairs on the way into Bowen’s [now our] room feeling extremely giddy and content.

When I enter the room, all the lights except for the bathroom are already off, and it looks like Bowen is already settled into bed. So, I quickly do my night time routine and change into my pajamas before making my way over to the bed I will now be sharing for the week.

Bowen is awaiting me with his arms wide open, which I happily cuddle into the second I am under the covers. He buries his head into my neck, leaving featherlight kisses here and there.

“I love you.” Bowen mumbles into my neck. I card my fingers through his hair and kiss the top of his head as I mumble back those same words, in complete awe over how fast my life has changed in one night. We both knew that we would eventually be together, it just took a little time and a trip to Tyson Jost’s lakehouse for us to figure it out. This week will definitely be one for the books.

Taglist: @barzysandmarnersbitch @handwrittenheroes @hockeyplayerstories @barzy-xoxo @gnemgn @joelsfarabees

Tagging some mutuals as well so this doesnt flop,,,

@2manytabsopen @bb-nhlqueen7 @frederikanderson @simon-edvinsson @coltonndach @carepriceisgoodathockey @lovereadinghockeyy @pettypeteys @kentjohnsons @joekellys @mattybenierss

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

Levi Headcanons

& some small analysis of my thoughts on Levi facts by Yams

No one, I repeat no one asked for this but I guess here we go I need to get those of my chest

Here are some very specific Levi headcanons that live in my head rent free. I shared those with @ladyofpandemonium yesterday and I had to post them

Topic: Levi and Marriage if you squint you can see some general Levi in a relationship thoughts

Next one is Levi and his love for apples, don't even question why

Listen, a fresh out of the underground Levi thinks that marriage doesn't really have to happen to bind two people together. He stands by it at all costs, because he believes in the dynamics of human relationships and doesn't give a shit about things that are set up by religion or law.

But supposing he has an s/o, a person he wants to spend the rest of his life with, a person that knows him like the back of their hand, its not bound that that his s/o won't bring up marriage, they probably will at some point

But it won't be them expressing that they want to get married, it's probably among the lines of conversing about another couple, or after Erwin shares that he liked Marie, who eventually married Nile and Levi dismisses the topic many times, saying that for him marriage is pointless and that he doesn't like the fact that people act like it's the only thing that binds couples together.

I'm pretty sure though that the thought of marriage will come randomly to him, maybe while reading a book and there's a marriage scene in it. His imagination is going wild, he loves to imagine an altar bathed in the yellow light of the sunset, some of it peaking through the colored glass that decorates some windows and the way it reflects on parts of the room. He doesn't want guests, so he never daydreams about anyone else other than himself and his s/o in this certain situation.

I think he'd like to see himself in that setting and by making these scenarios in his head he'd feel like he wants to experience them. At one point, maybe while cleaning, it would all come to him again and he'd find himself imagining he's there, waiting for his s/o to walk towards him.

Don't get me wrong, it's not that he's the most romantic person ever. He doesn't know how to be romantic, he can't find himself in a position to be romantic either. He's not bound to make anyone swoon with his words like Erwin could and he's not cheerful and cute, he's not a person you could fall for easily, given his past and upbringing, but this doesn't mean that he can't and won't dream about things he reads in books.

I think that, also, he'd long to be officially claimed by someone just as much as he'd love to claim someone his officially as well. Jump on me all you want about this, but it feels like he would love to find a home in a person, marriage aside, he wants to be held, he want to be someone's Levi. Not just Levi.

He's spent most of his life uncertain of his own last name. Again he was just Levi for most of his life so when he'd give it a second thought he'd like to feel that joy. That he can hold a hand and lean on a shoulder and that he could be with a person who he could be open with without having to talk much. Levi wants someone to want him as he wants them and he'd give his whole heart in his s/o.

Plus, Levi seems, to me at least, like he is one who won't stubbornly stick to his ideas if his s/o expresses they want something.

Say for example you want to sleep with him, you want to cuddle him, you want to shower him in kisses, you want to give him a long, hot bath. At first, he'd say no. It's a new territory for him, he doesn't know how to provide all that affection, he can't bring himself to believe he'd enjoy them. But on second thought?

On second thought he sleeps with his s/o between his legs in the loveseat in his office, on second thought he kisses his s/o chastely on the cheek randomly, on second thought he lets himself loose in his s/o's embrace. And eventually he'd find himself wanting to rest his head on his s/o's chest, he'd want to put his head on their thigh's and have a much needed nap, he'd be willing to make some time to step in a hot bath after having a shower to get rid off the dirt. (Of course he wouldn't like to float in his own filth)

It's not that he feels like he has to change who he is to fit into someone else's standards. He's just open to new things after giving them much thought, he wants to keep moving forward and get better.

And since he likes to adapt his traits to other people's (something I do as well) you'll find your Levi to be open to become a better partner. I'm not talking about him changing, not at all, if you want to be with him you have to accept what comes with him but when it comes to his partner he's soft and loving and needy. It's much more deviant to what he paints himself to be in front of everyone.

Thus if his s/o even so as lingers on the subject of marriage he keeps thinking about it and he likes that it could be a scenario made into reality. And I think that he would probably and randomly announce to his s/o that they should get married if they both think it can happen.

With Levi such things come out randomly, he can't never find the right place or time to set the ground to try new things, he just thinks that blurting them out is the way to go, it saves him from being embarrassed, remember -he gets all stuttery around someone he likes-

And another reason why I think he would get married is that maybe if him and his s/o planned to have children he'd never want anyone to doubt them.

He knows in their setting that children born outside of marriage aren't really considered legit he'd hate for anyone to look down on his children as if they were him.

He wants his children to have a full name, to know that they have a family they belong into. He would never, ever let his children become that heartbreaking 'just Levi' human beings.

This could be a time for me to write Levi as a father and my opinion on it, but I'll save that for another time

[wonder-kid-pugh]

Waiting Long Enough - (Rose Lavelle x reader)

Happy Valentine's Day everyone!!! I was thankfully able to finish this late last night (sorry I was busy and only got to post it now). I'm working on another one but I'm not sure if I'll get it finished for today but I'll post it as soon as it's done. But for now I hope you enjoy!!!

The idea of soulmates is great. Scratch that it's euphoric. I mean imagine having someone who was literally made to be with you. Someone to be there for the good and bad days. Someone who does the little things for you just cause. Someone who gives you that sense of calm when the world might be falling around you. The perfect partner who knows you better than yourself sometimes.

In theory

The idea of soulmates is brilliant. But there's the small fact you have to consider. The fact of you have to find them first.

That's the part Rose struggled with.

Now they did have some help. Everyone had the day they meet their soulmate tattooed on their wrist. So you could imagine the feeling when Rose's tattoo told her she would meet her soulmate on Valentine's Day of all days.

Rose couldn't believe her luck. It seemed like something out of a movie. When she was younger she would always imagine these romantic chance encounters that would lead to her meeting her soulmate. Like something out of a fairy tail. How she would meet her soulmate and would be swept off her feet for the love holiday and fall in love.

The thought of it sounded perfect except for one thing......

The tattoo told you the day....not the year

So it was a repetitive cycle of heartbreak as Rose would wake up excited for Valentine's Day only to be disappointed when she wouldn't meet her soulmate. She tried to stay optimistic but it was hard when year after year pasted only for her to remain single on her own having no one to celebrate the holiday with.

Now it wasn't fool proof. I mean there was plenty of other situations where the soulmate tattoo failed. There was Lindsey and Sonnet for example. Obviously they had both met at camp but they had never expected it to be one of their teammates. And Sonnett still to this day would have thought her soulmate would have been that girl at the coffee shop if it wasn't for a friendly game of Truth or Dare at a team bonding session which she was dared to kiss her the blonde colorado native which revealed their initials which burned underneath their tattoos.

It also didn't help that this year Rose had to spend Valentine's Day in camp surrounded by couples.

"Who shit in your cereal?" Kelley laughs as she see Rose glare at the Valentine's decorations that littered the meal room. "Shut it" Rose mutters as she stabs at her breakfast with her spoon. "What's up Rosie?" Alex asks as she sits beside her best friend. Sonnett laughs, "Yeah you don't look really in the loving spirit".

Rose just rolls her eyes, "Well excuse me that I don't feel up for celebrating Valentine's Day when I'm the only person on the team who hasn't met their soulmate". Mal gives the girl a small smile, "Sorry Rosie". Alex gives her a sympathetic smile, "I know it sucks but you shouldn't let that get you down. Who knows? Maybe today will be the day you meet them?".

But Rose lets out a sigh as she plays with her food, "I rather not get my hopes up only to be disappointed. Like every year". "Well what are your plans for the day?" Mal asks trying to stir away from the conversation of Love which was clearly upsetting the girl. Rose just shrugs, "Probably the same as every year I'll probably end up just watching TV and drown myself in junk food and wait until the day passes".

Sonnett scoffs, "How are you planning on meeting your soulmate if you don't even leave the hotel?" Rose just gives the blonde a look, "That is rich coming from the pair that thought that having the same tattoo was a coincidence. If it wasn't for Kelley daring you to kiss each other at Truth or Dare you idiots still wouldn't know". Sonnett pouts, "Harsh". Lindsey shrugs, "But true".

Kelley points her fork at the blondes, "I still expect to be godmother of your first child.....or your child be named at me I'm fine with either".

While the two blondes blush furiously, Kelley turns back to Rose, "They are right though". Rose just glares at the defender as she raises her hands in surrender, "Hey how do you expect the love of your life to find you if you don't even give them a chance?"

Rose huffs because as much as she didn't want it admit it, Kelley was right. The chance of her soulmate finding her while she was couped up in her room feeling sorry for herself was very unlikely. "Well what do you want me to do? Walk around wearing a sign saying, "Are you my soulmate?""

Kelley shrugs, "I mean if it works..."

Alex sighs and shakes her head, "And you were doing so well..." Kelley looks at her best friend hurt, "Hey!" Mal turns to Rose, "They're right you should do something tonight". Rose bites her lip she knew her teammates were right but after years of searching she really didn't feel like having another let down. Mal puts her hand on the midfielders shoulder, "Look some of us were planning on going to a club tonight. You should come with us".

Rose frowns, "I don't know Mal". Lindsey jumps in, "C'mon it'll be fun! Worst case scenario you don't meet them and you have a good time with us. Best case scenario you find your soulmate and you thank us forever".

Rose bites her lip as she thinks for a second before sighing running her hand through her hair, "Fine what do I have to lose". The youngsters cheer as Mal wraps her arm around her, "Tonight's gonna be fun!" Rose sighed

She could only hope so

...........

Rose soon realised early on that her friends were wrong. They had barely been in the club and hour and she had already lost her friends. Granted they had lost Lindsey and Sonnett 15 minutes after entering the club. Rose rolled her eyes thinking that they were no doubt making out in the bathroom right now or worst not that Rose wanted to think about the later.

All she knew is that one second she was dancing with Mal and the others and the next she suddenly couldn't see anyone. She felt like she had searched the entire club but couldn't find any of her friends.  Rose pushed her way through the crowd hoping to find someone at the bar hopefully (she knew there was a 50 percent chance Kelley would be there) only to be disappointed when she didn't find anyone.

Rose let out a sigh as she slips her phone out of her to text the girls but before she can even switch on the phone she feels someone sliding up to her. A bit too close for her liking. "Hey there". Rose looks up to see a man smiling at her. Rose had to hold back a wince as he looked her up and down with what could only he described as a predatory look. Rose could only give him a small smile before turning away slightly trying to text one of the girls. But obviously he didn't get the hint as he just leans closer into her, "You here alone?"

Letting out a sigh she turns back to him, "I'm sorry but I have to go". She pushes her way back to the entrance before leading the club. Rose starts to text Mal that she was leaving to go back to the hotel when she bumped into someone.

"Oof" she grunts as she stumbles backwards from the collision. But before she could fall arms wrap around her steading her. "Oh gosh I'm so sorry". Rose shakes it off, "It's fine. I wasn't looking where I was going".

But when Rose looked up she let out a small gasp

As blue met green it had felt like the world had stopped. It was like Rose had temporarily forgot how to breathe as she looked into the stunning green eyes that peered down at her. And they would have no doubt stayed like that if it weren't for the shout behind her.

Rose couldn't help the groan as she turned to see the same guy from the club had followed her out. He gives her a grin, "There you are!" Rose sighs before speaking bluntly, "Look I'm sorry but I'm not interested". The man didn't look a bit deterred though as he just shrugs with a smile, "You sure I can't change your mind?" Before Rose can even think about saying anything she feels someone wrap their arm around her waist, "I think she's okay". I look behind me to see the same person from before that I bumped into her.

The guy looked a little taken back before he shakes it off, "Well if you ever change your mind you know where to find me". He sends the soccer player one last wink because strolling back into the club. Rose scoffs before smiling at her saviour, "Thanks. I don't think he would have left me alone if you hadn't stepped in".

But the stranger just shyly rubs the back of her neck, "No worries. Consider it an apology for barging into your earlier". It was this time that Rose got a good look at her saviour. She was seemed to tower over her. Not as tall as Sam but still tall. She was wearing jeans paired with a tight muscle tee which showed off her biceps. But what drew Rose in was the soft green eyes. They were so gentle and caring.

Rose suddenly realised that she was staring and blushed brightly already feeling the heat pour off her face, "W-well uh t-thank you for the help. I'm sorry for bumping into you". She gives me a smile, "I-its no problem".

Rose bit her lip playing with her phone before smiling at her, "Uh well I better go". Rose was silently hoping she would say something to stop her from leaving but she only nods. The midfielder gives her one last smile before brushing past her. She couldn't deny that the simple contact sent shivers up her spine like a shock of electricity.

But Rose had only made it about 5 steps before she was called back. Rose had to bite her lip to try and stave off the smile before she turned back around. The girl was sheepishly rubbing the back of her neck, "Uh do you mind if I walk you back? Just so I know you get there safely". But she immediately starts to stutter, "Uh unless that's weird. Yeah that's weird I-I'm sorry. Feel free to tell me to get lost".

But the poor girl was cut off by Rose giggling, "Yeah I would like that". She grins as she falls into step with the soccer player as they start the trek back to the hotel. It's quiet for a moment before the girl speaks up again, "I never got your name?" The midfielder smiles up at her, "Rose". She starts to chuckle making Rose tilt her head at her, "What?" She shrugs, "Nothing just that my name is Daisy". Rose couldn't help but snort, "Seriously?" She nods, "Seriously".

After that the conversation just flowed. The two were able to talk about anything and everything. Rose talked about soccer and her love of dogs which sparked off Daisy talking about her job as a vet. She even showed Rose some pictures of the animals she helped even if Rose mainly focused on the dogs.

But sadly it seemed that their time was up as they came up to the hotel. They stopped at the entrance neither knowing what exactly to do and both hoping to find some way of making this run longer. "Well this is me" Rose says quietly. Daisy just rocks on the balls of her feet, "Yeah.."

Rose bites the inside of her cheek hoping that something anything would happen to prevent her from going inside just yet. Rose had never felt more connected to anyone like this. Sure she had met people that she thought could have been her soulmate but none that gave her butterflies like this. But part of her held back scared of yet another failed attempt which she couldn't help after years of false hope.

But before she could even think of anything to say it was Daisy who filled the silence, "I-I know we've only met but c-can I try something?" Rose just silently nods as she watches the girl nervously step towards her. The soccer players breathe hitches as the taller girl cupped her face in her hands. But she couldn't help but lean into the warmth of her hand. Daisy searched her eyes looking for any bit of hesitance or doubt but when she found none she started to lean in. Both of them slowly started to lean until their lips met in a sweet and gentle kiss.

The kiss was unlike anything the girls had ever felt before. It would have gone on longer if no doubt for the burn they both felt on their wrists' making them pull back. Rose smiles down at the D.C now tattooed on her wrist forever more before looking up at her soulmate, "You don't know how long I've been waiting for that". Daisy just chuckles as she pulls out her wallet, "I always carry this in my wallet. It always felt right, I just didn't really know why until now".

Rose scrunches her face until Daisy hands her a  pressed flower....a rose to be exact. Rose smiles brightly before leaning back up to press another kiss to her lips. And that was the start of the story of Rose and Daisy. And their blossom relationship.

[pillow-anime-talk]

chibi-chan.

synopsis: A little bit of jokes about your height from GoM’s boys or situations where you need some help. But don’t worry, we all know that you are super cute and adorable.

# tags: scenarios; current relationships; comedy; fluff; romance; jokes; also protective/helpful boyfriends; sfw

includes: female reader ft. ryouta kise, daiki aomine, shintarou midorima, atsushi murasakibara, seijuurou akashi & tetsuya kuroko {knb}

— RYOUTA

You’ve been wondering how to impress your boyfriend for a few days, because he hasn’t paid much attention to you for a long time. Even when you came in a different hairstyle or changed your perfume, Ryouta just smiled at you, then stole one kiss from you and run for basketball team training...

Oh, right. Basketball. You didn’t know a bigger fan of this sport than your boyfriend. Stupid thought of playing basketball passed through your head to show off your skills (or rather attempts to have any skills to play in this sport) to Kise.

The more you thought about it, the more convinced you were. You decided to try and on Friday immediately after your lessons you went to the gym. You knew that at 5 p.m. the Kaijou team would start their training, so you only had an hour to take off your whole uniform, jump into the P.E.’s tracksuit and pick one ball from the big bin and start slowly throwing into the basket hoop.

Of course, it’s easy to guess that it was hard for you to hit into the hoop with your... small height. Certainly when you were born, you didn’t queue for ‘being tall’, but rather for a nice smile and big eyes. No wonder that for the first ten casts only one was successful and it was certainly a coincidence, because the ball spun three times on the rim before falling inside.

“I suck in this game.” You muttered under your breath, again taking a position on the first line on the court.

You were so absorbed in the game that you didn’t even notice how a curious blond-head looked inside the gym because of the noise and the light on. What a surprise for Kaijou’s ace who saw you in front of the basketball board and the ball in your hands.

However, when he noticed your next inaccurate shot he laughed under his breath. “I think you’re a little too short for this game, Y/Ncchi.” He said in an amused voice, entered the room. You turned to the voice and then sighed.

“And too short for you to notice me, huh?” You added wearily, catching the ball.

“Y/Ncchi... I always see you!”

“I don’t think so. But I don’t blame you. I just wanted to... impress you. You like basketball, so maybe you would like me more if I could play with you.” You shrugged, throwing ball into the hoop again. Miss. “Shit.”

The blonde man shook his head approaching you. “I like you no matter what you do or how you do it. You don’t have to play basketball to impress me. You should change you for you and only you, not me or someone else. Anyway, I said what I said. I notice you all the time, Y/Ncchi. You looked pretty last time when you had a ponytail. Your new perfume was amazing too. Hmm, now when I think about it, I don’t praised you for that, right? But know that I appreciate everything you do.” He confessed quietly, patting you on the head. “And now Chibicchi, I’ll show you how to play basketball, because you have a terrible position to throw a ball...”

— DAIKI

Aomine definitely loved teasing you the most if your height was at stake. He usually made you as his own armrest or asked what’s weather below. They were a puppy jokes that somewhat irritated you, somewhat amused you, and somewhat embarrassed you, but what can you do? After all, they were just pokes and you knew that well. In retaliation, you often mocked him by calling him a ladder, giraffe or Eiffel Tower.

Daiki was glad you weren’t offended about it because... you were incredibly cute to him when your cheeks turned red and slight insults came from your lips. Of course he would never say it out loud, but you were super fluffy for him and he liked this side of you. And hey, as your tall boyfriend he had nice views from above. For this and if necessary he liked to take you on his lap or cuddle with you on the armchair, because you were the pocket-sized person and he could cover your whole body by his.

But as I wrote, Aomine would never have said it out loud. He just always laughed, saying you were shrunk again.

Of course, Daiki wasn’t such a bastard to you.

I mean, yes. Aomine had the right to make fun of you, but no one else him could do it, because he knew that after all your height is your complex. Your boyfriend spoke his jokes in a gentle way, always saying at the end that he loves your body anyway, because of this he feels more manly and needful. He didn’t spare wet kisses or hickeys on your chest at that time, so you didn’t feel bad with him. You love each other very much.

However, when other people’s jokes were involved, such as those from girls who were jealous of your blue-haired man or gross jokes from boys who didn’t like Aomine or wanted to pick you up... Daiki changed his mood immediately.

Just like now, when you were walking towards Aomine’s class to go to the roof with him and have breakfast. Unfortunately, just before the door a couple of first-year students stopped you; one of them hit the wall with his hand, blocking the way for you.

“Hey, Y/N-chan. Oh, this bento is for me?” The tall black-haired boy took your breakfast box, then raised it high up, smiling broadly. “Thank you, it’s really nice. You are such a damn cutie.”

“Please, no. W-Wait...”

“Maybe we’ll arrange a date? We can go to the cinema and then to me. I think it won't be a problem with you getting into my bed, because you're so small...”

“Don’t touch me and give my bento back!” You jumped to catch the white box, but in vain.

“Oh, I have great views from my perspective.” The teenager laughed, not even noticing the shadow of a much taller person behind him. The box with your bento was picked up and the perverted student was pressed against the wall next to you.

“Why don’t you repeat what you just said a moment ago?” Daiki asked and you immediately ran up to him, hiding behind him. “Harassing girls... especially girls in the relationship... It’s really shitty, don’t you think? Get out, brat and never approach my girlfriend again.”

As I said, only Daiki can use your height for kissing or joking.

And of course to show that he’s the best boy on the whole world.

— SHINTAROU

Your boyfriend was a difficult man. He rarely showed any emotions, but you knew that he cares about you very much and despite his cold behavior he always worries about you.

No less, Midorima is... Midorima. You didn’t know any bigger tsundere than him; especially when you two were together at the random moment.

Like. Did you forget your scarf? No problem, Shintarou will lend you his own and tell you that you are irresponsible and childish. You’re hungry? All right, your boyfriend will buy you something from the school cafeteria or share his bento saying it’s the last time he does it for you (spoiler: this isn’t the last time because he’s a simp for you anyway). You’re tired? Girl... Midorima will take you on his lap and hug you so tight that your heart will melt, but three times he will mention that you can’t tell anyone about this situation. Mom, I love him.

In any case, Shin has his own way of showing affection, which is primarily based on texting to you or bringing for you your lucky items for the day; for example, recently, Midorima brought you a key ring with a puppy's pendant, because Oha Asa mentioned that this wouldn't be a good day for your zodiac... Sweet.

Today, however, he brought to school only an item for you (by the way, it was a Tokyo’s guide), or so you thought, because Shintarou always discusses with you about his lucky thing. And today he didn’t say a single word about it. He only took your hand and led you to class, saying that he would come for you at your next break.

And so, throughout today’s day Midorima didn’t leave you even for a moment, and by the way he still walked with you by the hand, which was a bit strange for you because Shin didn't like a public PDA. Takao was equally surprised.

Only when you started coming back to home with the green-haired man who was walking next to you (of course with your fingers laced with his) you decided to ask Shintarou if something had happened.

“So... your today’s happy item is a holding hands or maybe rather a woman’s hand?” You asked seriously, laughing under your breath, at which Midorima looked at you surprised.

“No.” He said honestly, so you immediately thought that your boyfriend joined into a PDA lovers! You were about to say something, but he continued. “My lucky thing for today is something small, that’s why I thought about you.”

You hit the boy on the shoulder, blushing furiously. “Idiot.”

— ATSUSHI

With Murasakibara, no matter if you were 155 centimeters tall, 168 centimeters tall or even 180 centimeters tall... you would still be small for him. And because you were below average, your relationship looked at least funny, but also sweet.

Of course, Atsushi didn’t care about your height, what’s more – he considered that it’s your advantage because he was pleased to took you in his arms while watching movies or grab your hands and play with them. Therefore, while you were next to him, you praised him and (maybe) from time to time you fed or played with his hair, Murasakibara paid no attention to your height. And when someone asked him if he didn't mind about it, he answered with his the most weary voice ‘Why would that kind of things should bother me? My Y/N-chin is my Y/N-chin and I like her no matter what. Do you have any problem with her or me?’

Of course, Atsushi is a big baby who likes to tease you, but he doesn’t use words for it; I mean, very often, when you want to kiss him, a tall boy laughs quietly and specifically asks that ‘huh, do you have a problem’ to reaching his lips. He always suggests bringing a ladder or chair. You snort, hitting him at the waist and laught shortly after that. Finally, you always pull him by the shirt to bend him down. He can't refuse you anyway.

Especially when you threaten him with not giving him snacks the next day.

Atsushi is a very supportive boy! If someone else teases you and you feel bad about your height difference, then your man always grabs the other person's head and asks rhetorically whether to crush him. Therefore, in order not to feel bad about it, you immediately offer him something to eat; if it's one of his three favorite dishes he'll probably follow you like a faithful dog.

‘Sushi likes to lift you up and help you to get to the basket board. His height is also very helpful when you cook something together, and he has the task of reaching for ingredients or bowls.

Nevertheless, sometimes he can’t refrain from saying that you are really smol. And if you’re together among the crowd, he sometimes he loses sight of you.

Fortunately, Atsu is so tall that you can find he quickly (usually at food stalls).

“You’re lost again, Y/N-chin...”

“You went to the snack machine without even telling me anything!” You laughed reaching for your wallet to buy ice cream for both of you.

“Sorry, sometimes I forget that you’re so small and have short legs, Chibi-chin.”

— SEIJUUROU

Your boyfriend definitely isn’t one of those type who joke about such serious matters as appearance, style or diseases. However, if he only saw or heard that someone was laughing at you, he immediately appeared next to your figure, which caused the tormentor escape. No one dared to object to Seijuurou, it’s a fact.

Akashi, of course, didn’t laugh at your height as I wrote, but this doesn’t mean that he didn’t like the fact that you asked him a favor or asked him to give you something or help you in doing a random thing. This brat asked for something in return each time; usually it was a kiss but sometimes it was also something more.

In any case, your man always went into defense mode when he was with you, through what many people were surprised by his change from Akashi in the basketball team > Akashi in the company of Y/N.

For example, imagine such a scene: You go to your home with Seijuurou because the boy decided to help you with chemistry and physic, but on your the way you unfortunately stumble over the protruding curb and fall into the ground, injuring your knee. Sei immediately changes from ‘full seriousness’ to “God, honey, are you all right?”

“Sei-kun, I’m not dying.”

“Yes, but it looks really bad. Let me take you in my arms.”

“Seijuurou-kun, I can really go on my own legs.”

“I won’t let you. Come here.”

“You’ll be tired and I’m heavy.”

“No, you’re not. You’re tiny.”

There really is no point in arguing with him because you won’t win anyway. Although you have to admit that thanks to the pink-haired you feel really loved and appreciated. There is no person in the world who cares about you like Akashi.

— TETSUYA

This boy is literally an angel. He probably won’t say a bad word about your height, but if he does, he will be 100% unknowingly about it and if he quickly understands his mistake, he will apologize for it; for example, he says you have recently seemed taller, but after a while he will remember that you were wearing shoes with a higher heel that day, not sneakers. Tetsuya is the most supportive boy in the world who will help you with everything you have a problem with.

You can’t reach the top shelf in the store? Kuroko will take your favorite cereal without a word and say that if you need something else from this or other shelf, just tell him. Do you have a problem with hanging laundry or putting curtains on your window? Tetsuya will gladly help you or lift your body to make you more comfortable. Are you cold? This cutie will lend you his sweatshirt/jacket/blanket, saying that you should take care of yourself, because you quickly catch a cold.

You! Literally! Have! Nothing! To! Complain! About!

Angel. I said what I said.

Kuroko isn’t one of the highest either people, so he is somewhat happy that his girlfriend is much shorter than him and sometimes needs his help for even such simple matters as changing a light bulb, reaching for a book in the library or chips from the storage locker in kitchen.

Sometimes, however, you get the impression that Kuroko is too worried about you. Like at this moment when you were going to go swimming with your boyfriend in the lake because you and your friends from Seirin went for a little rest. And also ‘cause the basketball team has a training under the supervision of Riko.

“Y/N-chan can you swim here? It’s quite deep. I’m worried.”

“Yes, Tetsuya, I can handle it. But I will take your hand when I feel threatened.”

“Yes, but you can hurt yourself. Grab me now. Pretty please.”

Kuroko is definitely cute and lovely, but he should chill.

[refinedbuffoonery]

Looking Through A Window (7)

macriley married undercover au

masterlist.

Sorry for the delay! I either have my shit together in real life or fandom life, but never both at the same time lol. Anyway, I got endless joy from reading all your reactions to last chapter’s clifhanger (sorry not sorry). I didn’t respond to comments because I don’t trust myself not to spoil anything, but just know that I appreciate every single one of your theories. Also, many of you were at least somewhat correct. (Yikes am I becoming predictable?? Gotta fix that.) This chapter ends at a good stopping point, so I’m going to switch gears and write a couple chapters of other fics (which I encourage you to read!!) before coming back to this. But fear not! I have big plans for the future of this fic, and I’ll send you all down the theory rabbit hole soon enough. xoxo

*****

The world narrows until Mac is only aware of two things: his racing heart and the fact that Riley is gone. 

The blood is fresh, but there’s no sign of a struggle—no sign of anything, really. The windows are locked and unbroken, the bedroom door is half-closed the way it always is. Not a single thing is out of place…except for Riley. 

So, where the hell is she? 

His body goes taut as the worst case scenario plays in his mind. Please don’t be gone, Mac silently begs. Please. 

The apartment is quiet. Too quiet. So when the shower turns on with a loud thunk, Mac flinches. Hard. Without thinking, he scrambles out of bed and lunges for the bathroom door. 

As he bursts through the door, Mac’s awareness shifts to three things: Riley is alive, she’s naked, and she’s screaming. 

“Mac!” She hisses, glaring over her shoulder. If looks could kill, he’d be very, very dead by now. At least her back is to him. “What the hell?” 

Mac barely hears her over the roaring in his ears. He scans her naked body, trying and failing to be professional as he scans for injuries. 

His eyes land on the blood smeared between her thighs, then the thin stream rolling down the inside of her knee. As understanding dawns on him, Mac holds out his own blood-covered hand in silent explanation. 

Riley winces. “Sorry about the blood.” 

Mac still feels a little disconnected from his body when he says, “I was afraid you were dead.”

Embarrassment floods Riley’s face. She begs,“Can we please finish this conversation when I’m not naked and bleeding all over the floor?” Mac’s gaze automatically flicks to the drops of blood between her feet, but he doesn’t move. His limbs are still frozen in place, the way they’ve been since he found her. “Get out!” Riley snaps. 

His own embarrassment finally taking hold, Mac stumbles backward, tripping over the door frame on his way out. 

While Riley showers, Mac busies himself by stripping the bed and washing the sheets and blankets. Not just because it needs to be done, but because it’s easier to process emotions when his hands are busy. It feels like he just experienced the entire spectrum of human emotion in the span of three minutes, and now all these untethered feelings are floating around in his head. As he works, Mac examines them one by one. 

He woke up this morning wanting to cuddle with Riley. Not just wanting to, but comfortable enough to act on that desire. 

When his hand landed in the blood, his brain immediately jumped to the worst case scenario. He is deeply afraid of said scenario. 

Then panic set in, as he desperately tried to prove himself wrong. 

Followed by relief at finding Riley and learning the blood was not from an injury, but from a normal bodily function. 

Then embarrassment, because he freaked out and barged in on her over something he could’ve deduced for himself if only he’d just stopped to think. He’s supposed to be smart, so why couldn’t that big brain of his, as Jack would say, figure this out? 

The answer to that question, at least, comes easily: Because it’s Riley, and he doesn’t always think with his head when it comes to her. 

For example, while he’s mortified at seeing her naked, a part of him wishes she’d been facing the other direction. 

Mac starts the washing machine and decides to do the mature thing and hide in the kitchen for the entire foreseeable future. He spies Harley lying on the couch, gazing out a window. “And where were you for all of this?” he asks. “A heads-up would’ve been nice.” 

Harley stares at him for a few seconds before resuming her vigil, and Mac hears the message, loud and clear: You’re on your own. 

When Riley still hasn’t emerged from the bedroom long after the shower turned off, Mac suspects that she’s hiding too. He doesn’t blame her. 

It’s late morning by the time the laundry is finished, and Mac can’t hide any longer. Clutching the still-warm sheets and blankets to his chest, he cautiously ventures into the bedroom. Riley is lying on the bed with her knees tucked up to her chin, and a pang of sympathy echoes in Mac’s chest. Her eyes are closed, but Mac doubts that she’s actually asleep. 

Dropping the sheets on the floor, he asks, “Are you alive?” 

Riley groans. “No.” 

“Could you please go die on the couch then, so I can make the bed?” She groans again and mumbles something incoherent. “Also you’ll feel better if you eat something.” 

“No I won’t.” She sounds like a whining toddler, and Mac has to stifle a snort. Still, a bit of the awkwardness dissipates. But only a bit. 

“Yes you will. I know you, Miss Hangry.” 

“I’m not hangry.” 

“Says the one who skipped breakfast.” 

“I was hiding from you.” 

“So was I,” Mac confesses. Riley cracks a single eye open at that, just in time to see his cheeks heat. “Trust me, I am way more embarrassed than you.” 

It takes him a second to notice that she’s blushing too. “Wanna bet?” 

Mac starts putting the fitted sheet on the unoccupied side of the mattress. “I didn’t see anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Nothing he hasn’t seen before, anyway, but Mac wisely decides to keep that part to himself. “Victoria’s secret is still a secret,” he adds with a wink. 

Riley rolls her eyes. “You did not just say that.” 

“Made you laugh, didn’t it?” Mac gives her a shit-eating grin, and despite her best attempt at hiding it, amusement slips through the cracks in Riley’s unimpressed facade. 

“Whatever. We don’t have to do anything today, do we?” Mac raises his brow at the question. For all the years he’s known Riley, she’s always been more of a ‘suck it up’ kind of person, not a ‘stay in bed’ person. So her question is surprising, if not mildly concerning. 

“Nope.” He pauses. “Are you okay? This isn’t like you.” 

Riley rolls onto her back. “Dude, it feels like someone took a cheese grater to my insides.” 

Mac winces at the mental image. “Ouch.” 

She pauses, as if contemplating her next words before she says them. “I got a new IUD a couple months ago, and this one makes my cramps way worse. I used to be able to ignore them, but this sucks.” 

Not knowing how to reply to that, he squeezes Riley’s ankle in a way he hopes is reassuring. Mac flicks his gaze up to meet hers and finds Riley already looking at him. Her gaze is warm and steady, but Mac can see hints of pain clouding her dark eyes. He thinks it isn’t fair that her body turns on her like this. 

"I'm getting back in bed the second you're done making it," she warns. 

"Go right ahead." 

Riley wanders into the kitchen, and, true to her word, reappears right when Mac finishes smoothing down the comforter, with Harley at her heels. To Mac's surprise, Harley jumps on the bed, waits for Riley to get situated, and then tucks herself into Riley's side. A smile blooms on his face. Riley puts an arm around Harley, pulling the dog into her stomach before moving to scratch her head. When Harley licks Riley’s face in return, Mac suddenly gets the feeling he's watching something private. 

Satisfied that Riley is in capable hands, Mac leaves without another word.

*****

Beneath the weathered wooden conference table, Harley’s head rests on Mac’s foot as she dozes through the Patriots’ council meeting. When they arrived, no one looked more put off by their presence than Conrad, but, true to his word, Ethan welcomed Mac and Riley with open arms and encouraged their participation. A murmur of dissent snaked through the room, but no one openly questioned Ethan’s decision to include them. 

Twenty minutes in, Mac would rather be anywhere but here. The “meeting” so far has been very little business and mostly rehashing some fishing trip a few of the guys went on over the weekend. Mac is holding out hope that it won’t be a complete waste of his time, but said hope dwindles each time someone exaggerates about the size of a fish. 

There’s nothing interesting to look at in the room, save for Riley. No art, no plants, no wall of guns. Not even a clock. Just drab gray walls with no windows. And he doesn’t dare study any of the men for longer than a second or two each. Making an enemy is as easy as looking at someone the wrong way, and Mac has no desire to antagonize the other members of the Patriots…at least not yet. 

Extricating his foot from beneath Harley’s head, he’s just about to make an excuse about needing to use the restroom when Ethan’s phone rings. After quickly checking it, Ethan excuses himself from the meeting with a curt nod to Conrad. Mac understands the look; he’s given and received it countless times himself, after all. Permission to continue without him. Because despite his tendency to toe the line, Conrad is still Ethan’s trusted lieutenant. The exchange is subtle, practiced, and apparently insignificant to the other men at the table, who are somehow still talking about fish. 

When the storytelling finally lulls, Conrad clears his throat. "Let's start with recruitment. Report." No nonsense, right to the point. Maybe he’s tired of the fish conversation too. 

As Conrad steers the conversation through the various items on the agenda, Mac realizes two things. 

One, the Patriots are far more organized than he originally made them out to be. This is no grassroots startup, and their plans go much deeper than protests and parking lot shootings. 

Two, Conrad is careful not to let anyone share too much information, instead asking everyone to give their detailed reports in individual meetings. And it's more than just trying to keep him and Riley in the dark. It's almost as if…almost as if Conrad doesn't want anyone to see the big picture besides himself. 

Mac decides to take his theory for a test drive. "I know I'm new here," he says, "but why have everyone meet with you a second time individually instead of sharing their full reports now? Wouldn't that be a better use of time?" 

Conrad sneers. "On the contrary, boy, why would I waste everyone's time making them listen to information they don't need to know?" 

It takes every ounce of Mac’s self control not to roll his eyes. 

Beneath the table, Riley grips his knee, nails digging in through his khakis. Mac wants to tell her that he’s thinking the same thing she is, but he can’t. The best he can settle for is a brief touch on her arm before needing to do something with his hands to distract himself from the way his skin burns under her touch. He elects to drum his fingers on the table, mostly to push Conrad’s buttons even further. 

If Conrad’s furrowed brow is any indication, it works. 

“Do you mind?” Conrad says with a pointed glare at Mac’s hand. 

Feigning ignorance, Mac replies, “Mind about what?” 

“The tapping.” 

“Oh!” Mac makes a show of sliding his gaze down to his hand before flattening his palm against the table. “My bad.” 

Looking none too pleased, Conrad moves on, but to Mac’s surprise, the man sitting beside him leans in to whisper, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. He's not the one to piss off." His words are tinged with genuine concern, and under different circumstances, Mac would appreciate the advice. 

"He's a man," Mac whispers back, "just like everyone else at this table." Minus Riley, of course. 

The man presses on. "The previous occupant of your seat was shot point blank for asking too many questions." Mac's brows raise at that. "You're sitting in a dead man's chair." 

Mac pockets that little detail gratefully, but he hesitates before ultimately heeding the man's warning. He fiddles with the button on his sleeve, impatiently waiting for the meeting to end so he can share his theory with Riley. 

What Mac doesn't anticipate is Riley beating him to it, pulling him aside before they're even back in the car. "Conrad's compartmentalizing information," she says in a quiet, confident tone. 

They’re too exposed to be having this conversation. Mac nervously checks for eavesdroppers, but doesn’t spot any. Deeming it safe for now, he replies, "Yeah I thought so too." 

"He's made himself essential. No one else knows how everything works." Riley pauses, eyes catching on something over his shoulder. Barely audibly, she adds, "An asshole and a control freak." He doesn’t need to turn around to know she’s looking at Conrad, not when she has a white-knuckled grip on Harley’s leash. 

"So if we eliminate him…" 

Riley nods in understanding. He’s controlling everything in an attempt to rise through the rankings and seize power. So if they eliminate Conrad, the whole organization may very well come tumbling down in his wake. 

Now they just have to figure out how the hell to accomplish that. 

"What if we help him?" Riley suggests, reading Mac’s mind. 

"What?" 

"We've spent all this time looking for the weakest link, but maybe…maybe we need to attach ourselves to the strongest one." A stray curl falls in Riley's face, and as she brushes it behind her ear, Mac absentmindedly wishes his fingers were brushing it back instead. Riley continues, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think we should help him become more powerful than he already is. That way, we can do as much damage as possible when we take him out." 

A man they don't know walks by, and Mac nods in greeting. Waiting for the man to move out of earshot, Mac drops to one knee, giving Harley a good scratch. She wags her tail and opens her mouth in a smile, clearly enjoying the attention. When the coast is clear again, Mac says, "You just made this op so much longer, but I think you're right." 

Riley snorts. "What, is there somewhere else you need to be?" 

Gazing up at the woman before him, the answer is obvious. Not unless you're coming with me. 

*****

In the gray hour before dawn crests over the world, Mac wakes to something tickling his nose. He exhales sharply, trying to blow it away, but the tickle persists.

His face is pressed into the nape of Riley's neck, and a deep inhale causes a few strands of her hair to go up his nostrils. Reaching up to brush Riley’s hair out of his face, he hesitates right before his calloused fingers brush her skin, afraid that even the barest touch will shatter the moment. As soon as Riley wakes, he'll have to hide behind his mask of indifference, and Mac isn't ready to do that yet. 

For as long as he dares, Mac allows himself to imagine what it would be like to wake up with Riley for real, in his own home. He sees her curled in his bed, sheets pulled up to her chin, hears the soft, steady cadence of her breathing, smells the lingering traces of perfume on her skin. 

Riley stirs in his arms, and the vision blurs, moving out of reach. Mac grasps for it, but it evaporates into nothingness as she settles back against him. 

He shifts his focus to the very real sensation of Riley’s body tucked into his. Her back to his chest, his leg slotted between hers, her ass pressed against his—

Shit. 

Mac jerks backward, trying to put as much space between them as possible before Riley wakes and realizes just what she scooted back against. 

Except, in his haste, Mac doesn’t realize there’s a third party present until his foot slams into the small, warm body lying at the foot of the bed. Guilt washes over him at Harley’s ensuing yelp. 

Awake, Riley mumbles, “Did you just kick the dog?” 

“It was an accident!” Mac insists, sitting up. He turns his attention to Harley. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. You can come back if you want.” He pats the bed in a way he hopes is reassuring, but Harley merely eyes him with suspicion before slinking out of the room. 

“I can’t believe you kicked the dog,” Riley says, still half-asleep. “She finally slept with us, and you betrayed her.” 

“I told you it was an accident!” 

“Betrayal.” 

Mac rakes a hand through his hair. “You’re never going to let this go, are you?” 

“Nope.” Riley sighs, rolling back to her side of the bed, and Mac isn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. Or maybe a little bit of both. “You better go apologize.” 

Mac scoffs. “And let you take over the entire bed while I’m gone? I don’t think so.” 

And there it is. The closest they’ve come to acknowledging the evolution of their bed-sharing habits. Particularly the newfound lack of sticking to their respective sides. If he’s being honest with himself, Mac doesn’t know where to go from here. He wants to see it as a sign of things changing between them. Obviously Riley is aware of their precarious positioning, but based on her casual relocation, she doesn’t see this any differently than the dozens of times they’ve slept squished in a small space together in the past. Whether she’s aware of the other thing, she doesn’t let on. 

“Your funeral,” Riley says, pulling Mac out of his head. 

Right. 

The dog. 

The dog whose forgiveness he needs to earn via extra breakfast. Maybe extra dinner too. 

Sighing, Mac goes after her, cursing his inability to get things right with either of the females in this house. 

.

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[piduai]

Interview with Noda Satoru from the Golden Kamuy fanbook

sharing anywhere is fine, but please credit me.

Q: Tell me how you feel about passing 6 years of serialization. Noda: I was already serializing at the time of my debut, so I guess I’d be able to give a summary when I’m finished. I don’t really think about how many years it’s been, it’s merely a checkpoint.

Q: What made you decide to become a mangaka? Noda: I feel like I wrote it down as my goal in my yearbook back in middle school. I also wanted to become a movie director, but as a mangaka you can create the entire thing by yourself. 

When Golden Kamuy just took off I was living in a tiny apartment and the postman, a young fellow and a reader of Young Jump, realized that I’m Noda Satoru. The magazine was sending me a lot of things, so it was rather obvious. “Are you the author of Golden Kamuy?”, he asked in a surprised tone while looking around the cramped entryway. I could feel feel his confusion regarding the fact that that vast Hokkaido world of the manga was being created in this modest apartment. Or maybe he just expected me to be making more money and afford a better place. Anyhow, I just thought again about how a manga can be created in even the smallest room in the universe.

Q: Who is your favorite character and why? Noda: As always, it’s Tanigaki. But well, I love all of them. I want to showcase only the best parts of them, and it hurts when I fail. For example I’m very happy that there’s a character who stirs the pot as well as Usami. He’d be Katsuo in the world of Sazae-san.  

Q: Which characters are the easiest to draw, and which ones are the most difficult? Noda: Characters like Shiraishi, Tsukishima and Nagakura, they don’t have a lot of hair and even if they turn out a little ugly their faces are well-defined so it’s easy to draw. In general faces that are strongly distorted and resemble caricatures are easy. Meanwhile Asirpa, Kiroranke and Inkarmat have neat facial structures on top of wearing Ainu clothing, so they are a very high-calorie effort for me. Ogata and Kikuta are difficult too. Their faces are distinctive and I have to make them look cool too, which is wearing me out the most.

Q: Have you decided on all 24 convicts at the very start of the story? Noda: Wouldn’t I sound like a badass if I said that that I have? Anyway. There were the ones that were based off real-life Meiji era criminals, such as Shiraishi, Kumagishi Chouan or the lightning couple, and of course there was Hijikata.

Q: Tell me of a funny thing from the manga that you are fond of. Noda: Gansoku’s “Hah! ☆”. And also when Koito Jr. Was flapping his arms and legs around trying to keep himself in mid-air.

Q: Why did you decide on Otaru as the starting point? Noda: I am from Hokkaido, so I’m familiar with Otaru and Sapporo. Otaru is close to both the mountains and the sea. Sapporo used to be a swampland, it’s wide and flat and there is no sea. Otaru is a place where foreigners come and go, there are many criminals roaming around creating danger, and money is found. There aren’t many big cities in Hokkaido. There were Ainu living in Otaru but sources are scarce, however Nakagawa-sensei, the supervisor over the Ainu language, told me not to worry too much about the difference of location, so I figured it would be best to make it Otaru.

Q: Was there any real life experience you had while growing up in Hokkaido that you turned into a scenario? Noda: When I was about 19 someone I knew told me that there is a locust graveyard on a nearby mountain, which sounded so ridiculous I had to laugh in their face. Turns out it indeed was a heap of locusts and their eggs left after a locust plague, that place was the Teineyamaguchi locust mound (a real historical site). I realized I ended up using this in my story. I owe that person an apology.

Q: Was there any scene that was particularly difficult to draw? Could you elaborate on it? Noda: The time Sugimoto went against Nihei and Tanigaki. It gave me a very hard time. Who goes where and does what, how does Nihei carry Asirpa, stuff like this. I had no time to waste either, I just remember that sequence overall driving me insane. 

There was also the sequence with Wilk, Sofia and Kiroranke being at Hasegawa’s photo studio. It’s really frustrating to draw something that you know will bore the readers, the story flow becomes less exciting too. I was praying for everyone to have a little more patience and keep reading, because the twist was so good.

Q: If you were to take part in the gold hunt, which group would you like to belong to? Noda: It seems that Hijikata’s group doesn’t have funding problems, and because Kadokura is there the atmosphere is relaxed too. I’d go there.

Q: If you were to find all that gold, how would you use it? Noda: No idea. Had a couple when I was younger, though.

Q: Were you planning to eventually transfer the action to Sakhalin from the very beginning of the series? Noda: Asirpa and Kiroranke have roots there, so I anticipated that the story will eventually move to Sakhalin. I also expected to have to travel to Amur river myself, but couldn’t go after all, only went as far as Khabarovsk. 

I was thinking of making Sugimoto eat permafrost mammoth. There was talk of a research team or an ivory excavation team’s dog eating mammoth. However there was no reason to make Sugimoto and Co go as up north as needed for permafrost, so I scrapped the idea.

Q: Tell me something about the hardships you experienced while doing research is Sakhalin. Noda: It was tough, but fun. I was only able to understand the clear differences between Nivkh and Orok people by going there; I couldn't by only looking at records and materials while in Japan. 

Complete unrelated, but I was surprised by how many stray dogs wander around there. One time my cameraman and I ended up being chased by one while looking for a factory and we had to run for it. The beast was big, about the size of a German Shepherd. The guide also warned us about junkies, it was really scary.

I also went to the Japanese military pillbox over 50th parallel north and prayed at a cenotaph deep in the mountains. I met a group of Japanese people in the hotel by the place where it's said you can still find remains of Japanese soldiers and their driver, a Russian, seemed to help with collection of the remains on the regular. He said that he's doing it out of reverence, even as a former enemy. As a Japanese, I felt gratitude. The 7th Division are villains in my story, but I don't have any personal bias against either side.

Q: What were the biggest differences between drawing Hokkaido and Sakhalin? Noda: Well... it's Russia. Even though Sakhalin is so close, it's already Europe. The structure of houses is strikingly different. There's also the differences between Hokkaido Ainu and Sakhalin Ainu, and differences between Orok and Nivkh people. There is no manga that will conveniently lay the differences of those down for you. 

It seems that the Orok and Nivkh's relation with Japan only got more difficult by the beginning of Showa era, there is only one person in the whole of Japan who can supervise on the Orok language. The professors in cultural studies I consult for Golden Kamuy are truly top-level; not only are they tremendously knowledgeable, they also understand how important to me is to stay impartial.

The wildlife, as well. There's a biogeographical boundary between Hokkaido and Sakhalin, observing animals I would never be able to see in Hokkaido was riveting. 

Q: Did Sugimoto really have a hidden plan during the whole stenka business? Noda: No idea. Even if he used it as a pretext to get everyone involved, though... cut him some slack. He's only a man. Sometimes he just wants to fight and win. Not for Ume-chan or Asirpa-san, just for the sake of proving to himself that he's strong.

Q: Your art is dynamic and detailed. I think your style changed quite a bit with time, though. How would you describe yourself as an artist? Noda: I want to preface this by saying that in no way do I think of myself as more skilled than other mangaka, but if you're drawing everyday for more than 10 hours you're going to improve a lot eventually, whether you want it or not. People who are able to keep the same style for years without change are the ones who are impressive, because it means that they achieved the peak of their potential. Ageing and health problems influence your art a lot, you know. I try to draw by observing. I use a lot of references. Drawing by memory alone is not a good thing.

Speaking of other artists, I once had one of the assistants I had working for me for years draw me a door knob from memory, and the result was a truncated cone resembling pre-packaged pudding. The actual shape of a door knob has an intricately angular circular shape. It's the result of being unobservant in everyday life. Good art requires constant observation.

Q: What was the foundation for your style? Is there an artist you were influenced or inspired by? Noda: Araki Hirohiko-sensei, for sure. During my time as an assistant, many authors told me to not even try to be original when it comes to battle abilities, it's already been done in JoJo, it has it all. He's kind of the Beatles of this industry, isn't he? 

By the way, I usually have no intention of parodying JoJo in Golden Kamuy, but my friends will tell me that they identified this or that reference from time to time. I read Part 1 about 30 years ago but I was obsessed, so maybe some things were just left in my subconscious. I only did one obvious parody, during the stenka fight. Funnily enough that trope started in Fist of the North Star, though, not JoJo.

Q: What's one thing that gives you the most motivation to write? Noda: Fan letters. I know how straining it is to write long and neat sentences by hand, and am thankful for them. I'm happy that people go that far to share their thoughts about my work with me. I'm really grateful to the people who keep reading and supporting Golden Kamuy.

Q: Did you have an interest in Ainu culture before starting the series? Noda: I did not. I'll be glad if my work makes people interested in the Ainu. Prejudice is born out of ignorance, so if you want to learn about the Ainu, don't limit yourself to Hokkaido only; there are museums all around Japan, and they have knowledgeable curators. It's important to remember to take into account the time period and the occupation of the person on which the research materials are based when you're trying to learn about the subject.

Q: You showed us a lot of aspects of life during Meiji and Taisho eras. Tell us about what surprised or impressed you in the process of research. Noda: It's not that I was particularly knowledgeable, so having to check every single thing was quite exhausting. The Ainu, the military, katanas - all of these needed research on my part. 

There are more regulations and rules set for things out there than one could assume, and mangaka who base their works on real life need to be especially careful about this. You have to take into account things like the size of the buttons on a military uniform, how a tea cup is held, and and how different people talk in different ways. For movies there's staff working on costumes and props, there's the cast, there are screenwriters, but in a manga you are the one responsible for every single detail. I wish I had a time machine and travel back to those eras. There are things I couldn't get right here and there that I keep having regrets about.

Q: Golden Kamuy was the main visual in the British Museum manga exhibition between May and August in 2019. I know you went there in person. How was it? Noda: The trip felt like a reward for all of my efforts. The exhibition is jam-packed by opening time, but I got special treatment and they let me inside early in the morning so I could walk around the vast British Museum in solitude. I also travelled between Jack the Ripper's crime scenes at night by taxi.

The driver in a taxi I caught by chance was wonderful, she looked up photos of the crime scenes and surroundings taken at the time of investigation on her smartphone and showed them to me one by one, saying things like "the third victim was found here!". 

I've always had a soft spot for Jack the Ripper, back in middle school I even wrote a screenplay for a school festival stage and played him in it myself. It was done in very poor taste, like that one scene in the Addams Family movie where there are arms blown away and fountains of blood gushing out. The audience loved it. 

Q: Please leave a message for the readers. Or maybe some advice for the troubled youth. Noda: I want people to say that everyone in Golden Kamuy had a satisfying ending, and I want that for everyone involved more than anything. As for advice for the troubled youth, there's none. Life is survival of the fittest. The weak ones get eaten.

[harmoni-me]

a poly komahinanami + reader request comin' through!: teaching crush reader emotions and how they work, how to interact with people, also stuff like romance, friendships, and having a real family.

thank you! don’t forget to stay hydrated!💙

My oh my, guess who’s back!? And with the longest story I’ve ever written just for you at that! This totaled up to be 17 pages on a Google Docs document, which is absolutely crazy by the way, but I just couldn’t stop writing this! But it’s now done, so I hope you enjoy!

Nagito Komaeda x Hajime Hinata x Chiaki Nanami x Reader Who Wants to Rediscover Emotions!

“Ugh...so not even that, huh…” Chiaki crashed onto a nearby sofa, slamming her face into a plush pillow, catching herself with a comfortable squish. You had just been shown one of those guilt-trip puppy adoption videos to try and kick-start your tear ducts, but it just honestly didn’t work. Though you desperately wanted the tears to flow, or at least have your eyes a little misty, nothing ever came. You couldn’t help it, but you were willing to do anything in order to feel, and know about everything that has to do with fruitful human emotion.

Just a mere few weeks before this moment, you were left with no one, going to a school for the talented and the elite. You did some research about social gestures, wanting to know what to do if someone wanted to talk to you. 

Well, apparently you did something okay, because now you were sitting here with three people who are bumbling around, trying to figure out your emotional and social problems. It was most likely luck that you met these three that wanted to help you out of your own ditch, but you definitely weren't complaining. Not one bit.

You had people by your side, and you felt something warm bloom in your stomach when you realized as such. It was nice, like when you let the sun soak up into the pores of your skin on some sandy shores.    

“Well, It’s not really their fault, you know? They were raised to be the Ultimate Perfectionist, their family must have done some terrible things in order for them to get this way...those bastards…” Hajime sat up against a wall, weaving his fingers into his hazelnut hair.

“Even though you’re simply reserve-course leftovers...you’re not wrong, Hajime. (Y/n) is in quite a predicament, wouldn’t you say?” Nagito laid cross-legged next to Hajime. Hajime just simply rolled his eyes at the white-haired boy's remark about his useless school status.

“Just a theory, but does talent honestly determine status? Wouldn’t it be like comparing someone’s grade’s to their natural IQ? Someone could simply just work harder, Nagito, and it’s that simple, most likely, to get on an Ultimate’s level.” You looked at Nagito, causing him to stiffen just a bit. 

…uh

Was it something you said? 

“Ah, (Y/n), your glaring. Practice softening your eyes a little bit. Giving off a serious look can make people uncomfortable sometimes.” Chiaki pointed out, gesturing to her own eyes, switching between a glare, and back to normal again, as if giving you a quick tutorial.

“Ah, um, sorry about that. I had no such intentions, so please forgive me, Nagito.” You bowed your head in forgiveness, already knowing what that gesture ment from social experience. Nagito just shook his head, causing his hair to sway along rhythmically, chuckling a little while doing so.

“No worries, please scold me whenever you please. I enjoy it.” Nagito let out a beaming laugh, shoulders bouncing at his own comment.

Hajime just clipped his thumb and index finger onto the upper-bridge of his nose, shaking his head to Nagito’s comment. Though, he could never stay mad at him for long… even with all of the degradation talk.

“Ok then, we need to get back to the situation at hand, because I have an idea!” Chiaki spoke out, making everyone in the room turn their head, ready to hear her out. The girl then picked herself up from the couch to stand tall among all of the sitting frames in the room.

“This situation is exactly like finally getting that shiny Pokemon you’ve always wanted, but it’s only level one. So you’ve got to go back and make it fight the smaller guys in order for it to start beating up the bosses.” Chiaki explained. Hajime nodded, apparently understanding exactly what she was talking about. Nagito was just sitting there, a clueless smile painted onto his face, listening with full intention of agreeing anyway.

You...you think you got the gist...but what the hell is a Pokemon?

“(Y/n) is our precious shiny Pokemon, and we need to take them out to experience all of the experiences, in order to gain all of the experience!” Chiaki finally proclaimed, confidently puffing out her chest in pride. Nagito just chuckled, while clapping at Chiaki’s idea, praising her. Hajime tilted his head a bit, seeming to want to know the stickler details.

“So, what’s the best way to go about this?” Hajime stood up from his seated position on the floor, stretching out his arms, sounding out a couple of pops from his tense muscles. Chiaki went silent for a moment, but then quickly jumped up with an idea.

“We divide it into levels, and create our own scenarios to fit within what we want to focus on in each level. For example, level one can be about trying to trigger certain emotions, like happiness. (Y/n) will pass the level when she completes the task provided. This will keep her motivated, and we’ll all have fun! I think.” Chiaki proposed, walking over to your listening form. You were confused, but you were also willing to try anything for you to feel like everyone else.

“So, (Y/n), are you ok with this?” The pale pink haired girl crouched down to your level, head turning, waiting for your approval.

“I’ll do anything to feel again. Of course I’ll do it.” You blatantly said, raising your tone to puppet a sort of happy emotion, though this time, it didn’t really feel as forced as it usually was, which made your heart jump in surprise. Your heart hopping domino-affected to your eyes widening in shock, as well as a jerk of fear in your body. You didn’t really know what you felt, but you wanted to figure it out more than anything in the world at the moment.

“Perfect! So, ah, what do the arcade machines say again...oh! Level 1, Start! Or maybe I’m wrong…” Nagito, stood, looking in your direction, as if signaling to you that everything was going to go great.

LEVEL 1: EMOTION TRIGGERS

You were sitting in a chair, while being surrounded by the three friends of yours. It was kind of how it went just a few minutes ago, with each person trying to show you something that might trigger something in you, but this seemed like it was going to be just a bit more...difficult.

“Well, what we’ve got planned is in order for you to go onto the next level, you need to achieve the following three emotional responses: Happiness, Repugnance, and Sadness. We’ll help you out on trying to trigger them, so don’t worry about it too much, alright?” Chiaki lightly said. You always enjoyed her voice, as well as her understanding personality. It was probably those character traits of hers that caused her to be your friend, most likely.

“Ah, well repugnance should be easy since I’m here, after all! Poor (Y/n) here would probably hurl after staring at scum like me for too long!” Nagito said with a smile dancing on his face, stepping into your vision, standing there for you to scan your eyes upon him. Hajime and Chiaki didn’t really object, but just wanted to see what would happen out of their own curiosity.

You observed him from your seat, as he said to do. The longer you looked at him, the more he just looked even more pretty than you thought he looked in the first place. His body was abnormally slim, making you wonder if he gets a proper amount of nutrition. You also noticed upon observing his features that his face fits perfectly within the four-division rule, which basically proves his face to be perfectly symmetrical. You also got a warm, sort of bubbly feeling when you looked into his eyes. It almost seemed as if they glowed a light, neon green. It was so enchanting...so-

“Pretty.” You said deadenly aloud, making everyone in the room so completely wide-eyed at your words, er, word. It was a surprise to them, to say the least.

“Uh...huh?” Nagito sounded, the tips of his ears darkening in a slight blush, not really knowing what to say.

“Oh, apologies. I was just thinking about your pretty eyes. Oh, yes, sorry. I think your eyes are very nice. Also, did you know that your face fits perfectly into the four-division rule, which is very hard to find naturally. I think modeling agencies would really like your face, though you look underweight...do you eat on a regular basis? If not, I can recommend some meals that are high in protein and low in fat in order for you to gain a healthy amount of weight and-” You rambled about your findings about the man in front of you, causing the darkening hue to spread from Nagito’s ears to his cheeks. A snort of laughter could be heard from Hajime, while Chiaki snickered into her arm, trying to conceal the noise.

“Ah...ahahah..uh, HAJIME, YOU MENTIONED AN IDEA JUST A BIT AGO! WOULD YOU MIND PUTTING IT INTO ACTION FOR US PLEASE!?” Nagito blurted out unexpectedly, making his way over to the “sideline” where the two others resided.

“I don’t remember making any idea, Nag-” Hajime said, just wanting to tease the lucky boy around some more.

“SH-SHUT UP! JUST DO SOMETHING!” Nagito slapped Hajime’s shoulder in embarrassment, causing Hajime to laugh at his successful teasing attempt.

“Okay, okay, I did have one idea I wanted to try. Though, I might need (Y/n) to take off their school sweater. Just for a moment. You can put it back on if you’re uncomfortable without it.” Hajime walked over to your seat, and steadily waited for the removal of your sweater vest.

“Oh, I honestly don’t mind. I trust you, Hajime.” You simply stated, carefully slipping the school sweater vest off of your form, and lazily plopping it down on the ground adjacent to you. Hajime then stepped a bit closer, fiddling with the ends of his shirt a little, a light blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Sorry, but...d-do you mind closing your eyes?” Hajime quickly stuttered out. You nodded, fluttering your eyes shut in obedience.

You felt Hajime’s presence close in on you. Closer and closer his presence got, making you go just a tad ridged, until you felt something.

It was as if feathers started to dance on the dips of your hips, causing you to squirm from the feeling. You weren't sure what was happening at first, but the more the feeling continued, the more you felt as if a gigglish sound was about to burst from your lips.

“Uh, I’m close, but I need more hands. Can someone- Ah, thanks Chiaki…”

It was when the other pair of hands started to skip across your skin that your lungs exploded. A loud, joyous laughter rang through the room, raspy and unused. The hands just kept on going, making your laughing increase even more, to the point where tears pricked at the edges of your eyes, making you open them out of pure instinct.

It was a weird sight, but you weren't surprised; it was what made you laugh out in delight. Hajime and Chiaki were tickling your sides, making your laughter return to your emotional memory. You haven’t heard the sound of your own cries of happiness in such an incredibly long time, that you knew you didn’t recognize it from the decade or so that it had been buried and locked away deep inside you. 

But here you were, laughing with the people you charised the most in that moment.

….

The room was at a standstill. Everyone was extremely overjoyed at your new emotional upbringing of happiness. It was amazing, and almost a miracle on how much you laughed and smiled, making you seem like a totally different person. It was to be celebrated about later, but things weren't nearly finished yet. Two more emotions still needed to be freed from within you, and finding the key to giving your feelings wings was difficult at that.

“I know exactly what will make her cringe!” Chiaki shot up from her thinking position, running to her console that was stuffed into her school bag. She pulled out the glossy pink electronic, powering it on, while simultaneously walking towards you.

“I will force you to watch a sim of Teruteru take a shower and make him woohoo with a ghost, making him have a ghost baby.” Chiaki stuck the screen up to your staring eyes. It was on what seemed like a digital Teruteru in a house, who was walking into the restroom of his abode. Once you saw that the character took off his clothes to bathe, you knew the threat wasn’t a farce like you thought it would be.

You honestly didn’t feel like witnessing something so...unnecessarily eerie and gross at the same time.

“Ew...”

That was all you said, scrunching your nose, and turning your head away from the screen as fast as possible to avoid from seeing such a monstrosity take place.

“Wow, that was...surprisingly simple! Such talent from an ultimate such as yourself, Chiaki!” Nagito praised the girl who willingly soaked it up like a proud child after getting a lollipop of accomplishment from the doctors office. You giggled unconsciously, astonishing yourself from the gesture, but you smiled, knowing that things might just return to how they once were in the past sooner rather than later.

“But, uh, can you actually have a ghost baby in that game?” Nagito questioned, and rightfully so, because you were coincidentally wondering the same exact thing. Chiaki darefuly glared into Nagito’s pale irises, signaling that she was dead serious, honest to God. Wow...must be quite the odd game she must be playing…

….    

“Can’t we just...skip the sad one? We already got the other two down.” Hajime asked, not wanting to see you in a gloomy state, especially since the sight of seeing you so vulnerable might break his heart into two.

“No way, Hajime! Everyone needs to bawl their eyes out at least one time in their life, right? Despair’s tears are needed in order to live a balanced emotional life!” Nagito exclaimed, a slightly crazed look twirling within his eyes, reflecting his love for the subject at hand.

Nagito skipped over to your form, leaning close to your stature. An innocent smile was stitched onto his face, though it was quite obvious that he had completely ulterior motives. He was going to make you complete this level, no matter what he had to do.  

“Just imagine, dear (Y/n), that you were blackmailed into killing me. What would you do?” His voice vibrated deep within your consciousness. It was a strange question, but it didn’t fail to make you feel incredibly uneasy. You looked down into your lap, thinking about your answer, for your response could affect the possible outcome.

“Report the threat to the police.” You simply said, because it was the truth. Putting a situation into more capable hands was the most logical thing to do. Wasn’t it?

“Oh, but it’s blackmail, is it not? You might get killed if you do such a naive thing...let me change the question for you, just to make things easier…” Nagito’s hand drifted to lightly grasp your chin, raising it up to make stern eye contact. His nimble fingers held onto the bottom of your chin, gently squeezing your cheeks inward, puckering your lips.

“How would you kill me?” The darkness in his voice didn’t even try to be hidden, for it scared your heart into beating out of it’s chest even faster than it was before. What kind of question is that? Why would he ask something like this, and to you, especially?

“I don’t want to answer.” was the only thing you could push past your lips, which has started twitching at the thought of the question given. Nagito’s smile downcasted, the disappointment evident on his face. His grip on your face grew tighter, tighter as his nails dug a little into your delicate skin. His hold on your cheeks was like his way of wanting you to spit out every single detail of your answer, wanting to know so desperately how you would murder him. 

You never wanted to answer that question, for you would never think about it in the first place. Nagito was someone you treasured, along with Hajime and Chiaki. The thought of seeing their own blood spill made you want to hurl everything on the floor, with the burning residue of stomach acid sizzling away at your throat.

“Tell me.” Was all he said, with shivering silence following straight after.

“No.” Your voice cracked. This was viewed as a terrible situation to be in. Never in such a long time have you felt this emotionally trapped. You were clueless on what you were feeling, but you knew that you never wanted to feel it again. You wanted to drown it, hoping it dies beneath much better emotions that you’ve resurfaced. But it never went away, only increasing, taking over all of your senses.

“Nagito, I think that’s enou-”

“Shut it.” Nagito sharply turned his head to face Chiaki, who had objectified.

Who was this? Was this the Nagito you’ve always gotten to know?

“You look like the poisoning type, in all honesty. Maybe you would slip it into my drink, or maybe just force it down my throat, none of which are bad choices. Maybe you would stay to watch scum like me convulsing on the floor, vomiting blood and mucus. What a pathetic way to go, wouldn’t it? You would have to live with the burden of my soul hovering over you for the rest of your life, wishing for yourself to be dead as well...What do you think? I bet you can do better than tha-”

“N-NO! P-please stop!” You screamed out, wanting the vivid picture in your mind to burn within a hellscape, never to be seen again. Your form was hiccuping and shrugging in sobs, wanting the images to go away. Nagito was your friend, and the vision of him laying in his own liquids and-

WHAM

“What the hell are you doing, Nagito?” Hajime fist has made contact with Nagito’s face, causing the boy to stumble back from the impact, his hand detaching from your face, leaving little red marks from the indentation of Nagito’s nails grounding themselves into your cheeks.

You started to shiver and shake, your heart so full of disturbance and sadness that you honestly just felt like dying. You wanted to go back to anything, anything that could be better than this feeling, but no matter how hard you tried, everything just kept on elevating. It was like a never ending hustle of feelings reaching over the brim, spilling over while also breaking the vessel.

Chiaki rushed over to your side, hugging you with all of her gentleness and consideration, patting down your hair in the most comforting way she could. Hajime went over and did a similar gesture, holding your hand, while bringing it into himself to embrace it. You don’t really know why he did, but Hajime lightly kissed the knuckles on the top of your hand, then once again bringing it into himself. 

Nagito just stood there, dazed at the sight he was beholding. He really wasn’t sure what he did wrong, because he did what he was supposed to do, right? Yet, the heavy guilt building up within his stomach begged to differ.

He shuffled up lightly to your slightly shaking frame. He then dropped to his knees, a thump sounding from the action. Carefully, he laid his head in your lap, while tenderly placing his arms around your lower body. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry you had to see that…” Nagito pleaded, his mumbling apologies verberated lightly from his mouth. You didn’t know what came over you, but you unsteadily placed your hands in his hair, patting it like you would with a delicate puppy. After a few seconds, you could feel a sudden dampness on your legs, and you could only guess it was Nagito’s down regretful tears. 

“It’s...okay...you were trying to help. I understand, so everything is okay.” Was all you said.

The four of you all gathered in that position for a while, with some people switching around to give you the ultimate care and affection. The rest of the time together was used as a break from your emotional journey, with all of you guys gathering up on the couch to watch as many Star Wars movies you could possibly watch within a certain time frame.

….

LEVEL 2: HUMAN INTERACTION

The four of you were in a restaurant that was one of the most popular places in town. The menu was expansive and expensive, and the desserts were rumored to be on par with one of the best confectionery institutes in the country.

Chiaki had helped you to get dressed for the occasion beforehand, wanting you to learn the basics of dress code and why it’s placed into different areas. You learned that in places that excel in wealth, status, as well as being full of influential people, were usually required of a dress code. Fancy, one could call it, was usually the status quote. Though, if it wasn’t those things, then you could basically wear whatever you wanted to unless stated otherwise. Interesting….

“I’ll be paying the bill today, in case anyone is wondering.” Nagito said, shifting his suit a bit to fix the minor details. His hair was up in what seemed to be a half ponytail, with the rest of his wild hair flowing downwards as per usual.

“Well, yeah, you kinda are the only one that can pay for this kinda thing…” Hajime rang out, checking his watch from underneath his white dress shirt sleeves. You really liked how the shirt fit Hajime, for it accentuated his slightly muscular chest a little more, as well as his smaller waist being hugged by his black dress pants and belt.

Chiaki sat next to you, a pink dress hugging her curves perfectly. Not too tight to a point where it made her uncomfortable, but it still made her figure known, which was a cute, hourglass figure. It was too bad that she hid herself underneath her hoodie most of the time, she honestly deserves to flaunt it more often from your perspective, but you still respected her personal conservatism when it came to her own body.

“So...what do I do now? I know this has to do with my social development. I think. Right?” You questioned, wanting to know what you needed to do in order to improve, and hopefully lead you to be more bearable during social activities.

“We were thinking just simple things for now, like ordering for us, calling over for the check, asking for refills, and that stuff. You’ll have plenty of opportunities to do so, and we’ll correct you on anything when needed.” Chiaki quickly explained, with you nodding along, signaling that you were indeed listening to her. 

“If (Y/n) is going to take our orders and give them to the waiter...then I guess i’ll have to tell you what I would like. A six ounce filet mignon with a caesar salad, please and thank you, dearest.” Nagito carefully listed off his order. You didn't really expect him to be a fan of steak, but you record the information with ease.

“Lobster and a side of soup for me.” Hajime smiled.

“I’ll have the french onion soup then. No side, I’m saving room for dessert!” Chiaki eagerly bounced in her seat, seeming to be quite excited for the treats this establishment would offer.

“Got it, then I’ll order just that, along with my food as well.” You confirmed the list in your head, just to double check, and once the waiter came around for the order, you did what you needed to do with ease. You were getting better, and that made everyone at the table extremely proud of your progression into becoming a better you.

“I want (Y/n) to practice in drama talk, I think that would be funny.” Chiaki commented, giggling at the suggestion. You figured “Drama talk” was just the spreading or finding of interesting rumors. You didn’t know that Chiaki was into that kind of thing, but it was quite humorous all in the same. 

“Hm, interesting. Well, what kind of things have you seen around the school that could fuel into this conversation, (Y/n)?” Hajime asked, resting his head on his propped-up hands.

Interesting….you couldn’t really think of anything right off the bat. You looked back into your memories to see if there was anything that could be of interest...until you found it.

 “I think I saw Kazuichi and Sonia walk into a cafe two days ago.” You attempted to spark something interesting, and apparently it worked, because Chiaki went absolutely feral at your comment.

“No. Way. I don’t believe it, are you sure it was actually them!?” Chiaki hollered, eyes sparkling out of a childlike curiosity. 

“I’m almost positive, there’s only a few people I know that have pink hair, and another with blonde locks that reach to their ankles.” You confirmed, making even Hajime and Nagito’s attention draw into the topic. It seems as if they weren’t really expecting it either. It was funny how both of their eyes blew up all of a sudden, as if you said something completely ridiculous.

“Is it...really that unbelievable?” you asked, genuinely wanting an answer. You kind of were seeing it all along, though it was merely one sided at first, like, really one sided. Eventually you expected them to hook up somewhere in between.

“I don’t really know him very well since we don’t really share the same class but I’ve heard from Chiaki that he can be a bit…” Hajime tried to search for the words, as if he wanted to pick something out of the dictionary that is not as offensive as he wanted it to be.

“Hyperactive with a dash of a perverted young teen.” Nagito finished bluntly. He wasn’t wrong, but you believe that he could be a grown man...sometimes. 

Alright, maybe not as much as what was ideal, but still.

“Oh my god I still can’t believe this is happening…” Chiaki was sitting there, looking like she was a woman in her thirties experiencing her first midlife crisis. You figured you succeeded in the drama department...or maybe you had said too much.

….

The night ended off extremely profitable to your social skills, and to your stomach. You learned correct table mannerisms, as well as waiter manners and gestures from the three of your friends. Not to mention that you have never tasted anything more delightful than the multitude of desserts that Nagito had ordered for the table. Although he wanted to get the whole dessert menu, he knew that the proportions could probably not fit all on the table, so he just got what he believed to be the best five deserts. And let’s just say that you and Chiaki were having a ball with all of them, while Hajime and Nagito were sharing a lava cake with vanilla ice cream, in their own little conversation. 

You and Chiaki felt like you couldn’t walk, and truth be told, you two actually couldn’t. It was so funny that Nagito probably busted a lung, and Hajime chuckled profusely while helping the two of you hobble out of the restaurant with your full bellies.

All of you had an eventful sleepover after that, with all of you falling asleep on each other while watching the Home Alone series. All of you passed out after the first movie, because it was boring compared to the first one. Nothing could ever beat the first one.

Once everyone woke up the next morning, apparently Nagito had prepared another lesson for you, wanted everyone to join and participate, for this one was “Special” compared to the other ones.

You don’t really know how it happened, but now you were stuck on the couch of Nagito’s house, being lectured about a topic you honestly didn’t know that much. Well, other than the movie’s that you’ve watched about it.

LEVEL 3: ROMANCE

“I think we can all agree that (Y/n) here will definitely get asked out dozens of times throughout their lives, wouldn’t you say?” Nagito stated, as if it was an obvious fact that everyone in the world should know.

“I mean, yeah. I really wouldn’t be surprised if she got asked out a few times.” Hajime replied, trying his best to be as nonchalant as possible, though the light blush on his face was quite evident in that moment alone. You never got to see his face as flushed as it was very often. And it was amazingly amusing.

“Therefore, I propose we teach her the swooning basics! Romantic gestures, if you were to frame it that way.” Nagito spread his arms out, as  if he were a ruling king among a giant kingdom. 

You were a bit dumbfounded by the idea, purely because of the fact that Nagito, of all people, came up with this idea. You will admit that you were completely inept when it came to anything close to romance or love, but that doesn’t really mean that you weren’t open to trying to be in a relationship. Though, you don’t really know what to do if that circumstance ever were to pass.

“Wait, are you sure that they’ll even be comfortable with this? This is some intimate stuff we’re talking about.” Chiaki chimed in, proving a point. You have heard about some actions that only lovers do, and you honestly didn’t really want to practice them, based on the descriptions that those actions beheld.

“As long as it’s nothing overboard, I don’t see the harm.” You confirmed, wanting to let everyone know that you’re ready for probably one of your toughest challenges yet. Or not. Who knows?

“Wonderful! Now, where to start...suggestions, anyone?” Nagito looked into the mere three person crowd he had going on, pointing at a Hajime who had raised his hand. When did this suddenly become a classroom scenario?

“Well, we should probably think about what couples do, right? Like, I dunno, holding hands and hugging. Things like that, right?” Hajime indicated, listing off the activities with his fingers.

“Perfect! Well, you know what to do then…” Nagito went over to Hajime, nudging him a little bit towards you. He rolled his eyes in response, seeming to be tired of Nagito’s antics of teasing and prodding.

“I...guess I’ll try…” Hajime murmured, picking himself up from the couch, then plopping himself closer to you. You turned to look into his eyes, which had quickly darted away from your own, a spreading red blooming onto his cheeks.

“Well, I guess I’ll teach you how to, uh, hold hands first.” Hajime stated, nervousness evident in his voice. You could hear Chiaki giggle in amusement from her spot on the couch, along with a chortling Nagito, who was snickering through his toothy smile.

“Usually,” Hajime began, “Couples hold each other's hands like this.” He softly took your hand into his own, intertwining his fingers to fit the spaces inbetween yours like a perfect fit to a puzzle piece. It was cheesy to just think about it, but it honestly felt like it belonged there, and it made your chest begin to feel warm, resembling hot coals within a fireplace.

“People can do this basically whenever, like when they're walking together, laying down with each other, and some people even do it when they, uh, sleep with one another. But either way, it feels nice, doesn’t it?” Hajime inquired, lifting up your tangled-up fingers, smiling kindly. The whole thing was so incredibly comforting and sweet, making you face unconsciously heat up. You’ve only blushed a few times in your life, and half of those times you had no clue you were even blushing, but now, you were pretty damn sure your face was as red as a freshly picked strawberry. 

“‘Oh, yeah. You can also do this, I think this is kinda a common thing too.” Hajime then undid the bond of the two hands, gently putting his own hand underneath yours. With his thumb, he dragged it back and forth across the top of your hand, making your heart leap from the gesture.

“Woah, Hajime, you really know your stuff, don’t you?” Chiaki pestered, giggling herself into even higher spirits. Hajime huffed out in an embarrassed annoyance. Can he just...have this moment for a god forsaken minute?

“Can...can I try?” You suddenly spoke, causing Hajime the look up in attentive stature. He let go of your hand, but still left it pretty close to your dominant one.

“Of course, you’re the student here, after all. So, go ahead.” Hajime then offered his hand, leaving it suspended in the air, waiting for you to reciprocate.

You nervously approved his hand with yours, your heart beating so hard up against the inside of your chest, that you were partially convinced that it was begging for an escape. You then shakily intertwined your fingers, causing Hajime to reciprocate your hold. Your hand was probably clammy from all of your apprehension, but Hajime looked pleased with what you had achieved.

“Look at that, all by yourself, huh? Look at you go.” Hajime chuckled, playfully gripping tighter onto your hand, then started to shake it around lightly, making you laugh a little from the gesture.

It was strange, but you really wanted to know what it was like to hold Nagito and Chiaki’s hands as well...maybe it was just your brain’s curiosity kicking in, or maybe it was the yearning that your heart was reaching out for. You didn’t know, so you let the feeling flourish, letting it be.

….

“And how in the world is Nagito good at anything romantic again?” Hajime exclaimed, making Nagito mock offence from the comment, then wickedly laughed it off. Chiaki shrugged her shoulders, rolling her eyes a bit, wanting her point to be shown through.

“You can’t deny that he’s pretty creative when it comes to names.” Chiaki explained, “He’s probably the most qualified person here if we’re going to teach them about pet names.” She turned her head to the lucky boy in question, who was playing with one of his bottom curls with his index finger, twirling it around, then releasing it in a transfixing way.

“Hm? Oh, well if I could be of some use...then of course I’ll do it for our little sunflower!” Nagito seemed to brighten the room a few levels of hues with merely his speech alone.

“Ok, well I see what you mean now…” Hajime mumbled into Chiaki’s ear, causing her to puff up in pride.

Nagito seated himself next to you, making himself comfortable. He gestured for you to do the same, wanting for you to be relaxed while he did his wordy magic.

“I’m honestly not the best for something like this, with me being a piece of lonely trash and all, but I’ll try to introduce you to some ‘Pet Names’ your future lover might bestow upon you. Better yet, you could use these to give to your lover yourself, which is also a fine option.” Nagito seemed to fully lean his weight onto the couch, closing his eyelids, and sighing out in a relaxed bliss.

“Hmmm...a common one is baby, babydoll, or even the bland bae are all some simple ones. They’re calling you cute, like a giddy child, but personally those are quite the lazy names, in my opinion…” Nagito chuckled.

 So...getting basically called a kid by your lover means that they think you're cute? That confused you...because you didn’t really like the idea of you being compared to a child on the cuteness spectrum. It seemed wrong...but you got why others would enjoy it.

“These one’s I enjoy more, they’re all based on sweet foods, indicating you’re, well, sweet. Or maybe just scrumptious in your own way...Anyway, people can say honey, cupcake, buttercup, and probably a lot more.” His hands started to sway around him, aiding him in his explanation.

You could call someone a sweet-tasting food and they’ll be flustered from the complement? That sounds simple enough.

“Ah, we still have so much more, I could go on forever…” Nagito exhaled, smiling, seeming to be experiencing a lot of inner peace in that moment.

“No, please continue. This is interesting to me, and I’m also learning a lot!” You proclaimed, curious for more. Nagito just snickered, moving on with his long list of names.

“People sometimes like to nickname after animals. The ones that are known to be small or cute, like bunny, bambi, kitten, and my personal favorite, dove. So pretty, is it not? Naming your lover after the bird that represents inner peace, and the bringer of love…”

You nodded and hummed in agreement, even though he couldn’t see you with his eyes closed. The fact that humans named other humans based off of animals for the sake of endearment made sense, but you hoped it didn’t get too extreme, or was used in offensive language... 

“What one’s do you like the most?” You asked, to Nagito’s surprise. He had to stop and think for a moment, as if he was about to prepare himself what he was about to say.

“I’m...picky. I like names that are meaningful, yet roll off the tongue just right. Though, I also want my partner to be comfortable with the name as well. It’s hard to pinpoint a single one but...maybe it would have to be between love, or precious. They’re simple...but for some reason it makes my heart feel warm.” Nagito put his hand to his chest, humming in satisfaction from his own touch.

“Hmmm….I think if I wanted to give you a pet name Nagito, I think it would be…” You sat in thought, furrowing your brows to think of something endearing your can say to the hopeless romantic.

“Ah, now there’s no need for tha-”

“Flower.”

“Huh?” Nagito opened his eyes to look at you, staring into your thoughtful orbs.

“Like a dandelion, because when you blow on it to make a wish, then it comes true. So I think it matches well.” You tried to break down your reasoning, but it just left Nagito more confused, and not to mention more flustered.

“I...don’t really seem to understand really.” Nagito shifted around on the couch as a sort of a nervous tick. It was obvious to even you that the way his eyes flickered around like someone in a frantic state indicated much apprehension.

“It’s because you're the flower that made my wishes come true.” You stated, smiling at the boy who started to radiate steam from his ears, seemingly not able to take anymore of the emotional turmoil.

In the end, Hinata had to lay him down on the couch for a while, while Chiaki pulled out a bag of frozen peas to place on Nagito’s burning cheeks, who was mumbling something along the lines of “I’m so lucky…” like a crazy mantra.

You just watched it all go down, while also using the term “Flower” in sentences out loud, honestly not helping with Nagito’s heart, which was out of control.  

….

“So...I have to teach you how to cuddle, right? Well that’s easy. Boys, get off this couch. It’s cuddle time. ” Chiaki blatantly said, though she did keep that pretty smile on her face at all times. Your knowledge on cuddling was limited, but you did it a couple times as a whole group, so that counts...probably.

“Lay down so we can get started, okay?” Chiaki gently said, laying herself down on the couch, opening her arms to you, inviting you into her seemingly warm embrace. You eminently fell into her arms, your head nuzzling unintentionally into her chest. She giggled at your actions, obviously enjoying herself. 

Hajime and Nagito, not really knowing what to do, just sat down together in a large cushioned recliner, the both of them leaning back into the chair, bodies pressed up against each other. Nagito had grabbed a book beforehand, so he took this time to simply enjoy his novel. Hajime, being curious and bored, kept on bugging Nagito with questions about the book, which Nagito honestly didn’t mind him doing.

“Ok, let’s start with the common stuff, little spoon or big spoon?” Chiaki said, holding up the number two on her fingers to indicate the options that she had just listed. You had no idea what she had just ment. Spoons? Like, soup spoons? Or ice cream spoons? Your mind was rushing with questions, and Chiaki snickered lightly from your inquisitive irises, knowing how perplexed she had made you.

“Sorry, you’re probably confused, so I’ll just show you.” She shifted herself so that she was facing away from you, so that all you could see was her back. She then wiggled closer to you from that angle, so that her spine was pushed up lightly against your chest. You just laid there, rigid in not knowing what to do with your arms, which were tense from Chiaki’s actions. 

“Wrap your arms around me. Don’t be shy, I’ll tell you if you’re doing something wrong.” She said, waiting for your embrace to bestow itself around her.

Humming in agreement, you used your arms to comfortably wrap itself around Chiaki’s dipped waist, instinctively pulling her closer to you. The pink-haired girl had mumbled from the movement, but then stuck up a little thumbs up to you, indicating that you did everything perfectly.

The two of you stayed in that position for a while, getting comfy from each other's radiating warmth. It was something so peaceful, that it filled your heart with an unknown bliss. You wanted to stay like this forever, but you knowing that it had to end eventually made you feel just a bit of disappointment.

“M’kay..les’ do another one.” She finally spoke, sleepiness obvious within her voice, making you smile a bit. She turned over to you, then started to shove your shoulder lightly with her palm.

“Go on your back…I’m gonna lay on you.” She murmured, pushing you down on your back, and shifting her form onto your chest. Her head was snuggled into your neck, while her arm lazily laid on your abdomen. What surprised you about the position is the fact that Chiaki’s leg had tossed itself over to drape over your lower body. It was as if she was just a baby, clingy koala who wanted their nap time to begin already...actually, this was exactly that, Chiaki was definitely a cute, sleepy koala who just wanted to snooze.

“This is the sweetheart’s cradle...you make a good pillow…” Chiaki mumbled into your neck, making the area feel hot from how flustered you were. Yet, it was so incredibly soothing, that you just wanted to just...rest here until the day you died. You weren't even exaggerating either, because if you were to die like this, you definitely would be the happiest person on earth, and definitely the most snug corpse out there by a longshot.

“Can...can the other’s join too?” You managed to mutter, causing Chiaki to slightly stick her head up.

“Mhm...you’re lucky this couch is big…” she answered, then turned her head to the two boys, who were bickering about the protagonist from Nagito’s book.

“(Y/n) wants you guys to join, come on...don’t keep me and them cold and waiting.”

From that point forward, nothing could compare from the warmth of all three of the people that meant the most to you. The warmth of family...the warmth of true friends...and the warmth of love, all sang such a bright song in your heart, helping you to finally find yourself again. The hardened plaster covering your emotional bank had cracked, leaving the feelings to leak free for the first time in a decade.

And with that layer of facade broken by the people you grew to love the most, you couldn't have wanted it any other way. It would always be them to break down your walls. It would always be them that lead you down the path to find the you you’ve always been searching for. And it would always be them that provided you with the love that you’ve missed out on in life. 

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Seven | Dogsong (Part 1 of 2)

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A strong and persistent, ticklish feeling on your nose wakes you up with a sneeze. 

Albeit, your face is far too puffy now for you to even see what's going on, not including the fact that you're not wearing either contacts or glasses presently -- and not that you even remember where your glasses ended up on after you passed out yesterday. It's all one big blur both in terms of your eyesight and your mind. The only few things you remember after waking up in a hospital bed was Sans at the very beginning of it all, along with your aunt arriving with some fresh clothes plus basic toiletries for you to use and change into after a shower. The rest of your memories are muddled to a point where you can't even remember where your belongings are, how long you've slept, or what hour it is.

The pressure you feel on your chest paired up with a few energetic woofs and a lick at your face let you know who's the product of your allergy. Thankfully though, the dog understands when you tell him you have to stand up. He barks again and jumps off of you, giving you freedom to move and try to feel around for your phone.

Doubt hits you when you find it, and you start to wonder if calling anyone's even necessary, keeping in mind that your emergency's mostly a puffy face and an itchy nose, coupled with blurry eyesight.

Surely, you could find your medicine just as you did with your phone, and worst case scenario, you could wait until a nurse or a doctor came around; your allergy wasn't that bad, anyway.

You try to search for the medicine all on your own first, though it results in you having to question the very same root of your problem for help. "Could you help me find my bag?" you ask, facing down with a smile at where you assume the dog's at. How he got inside a hospital room's left unknown to you, but now's not the time to be worrying about that. "It should be around-"

Before you can even finish your sentence, the dog barks once and runs off, becoming an even fainter, white blur as he leaves your side. Soon enough though, he returns with what you assume are your belongings, based on the colour of the bag's material alone, its dark brown contrasting with his white fur. "Thank you," you say, taking the bag from his mouth. You then sit down in bed and rummage through your belongings until you find some allergy pills and a half-drunken, lukewarm, bottled water, plus the new bottle your aunt had brought you. Compared to the one you packed up for yesterday, it's still ice-cold to the touch, and it's twice the size as a regular one.

A yawn, a headache, and a painful stretch intervene with your mission, so you decide to wash up first before taking any medicine. Countless hours of sleep meant lethargy was just around the corner were you to be tempted to lay down again, so you stumble your way to the bathroom and freshen yourself up, a daily routine adjusted to go by quicker when you hear the door of your room open and the dog bark at the new visitor. Happy woofs inform you you're not in any sort of danger, though you could still use whatever company there's waiting for you with how long it feels since you've last had a talk with someone unrelated to how your health was doing and what happened back at the bus.

"Hey, bud. What're ya doing 'ere? You know (Y/N)'s allergic to you."

"Woof-woof!"

The exchange between the new voice and the dog are the first few words you can hear while you wrap things up, though the dog runs back to your side as soon as you open the door and return to your bed.

"Don't," the visitor warns, whistling for the dog to approach him and chuckling when he runs off to his side. "You're gonna get 'em hospitalized again if you keep doin' this."

The dog distracts himself with the visitor while you take your pills and down them with some water. All that's left is to find your glasses while your face recovers, though as much as you try searching for them or your other alternative, you can't find them among all the other items scattered inside. Most first aid items are felt tampered with, bringing forth the unwanted memory of what you'd been through yesterday and how you were still well under recovery.

"Good mornin', (L/N). Dunno how that doggo got here, but I'll make sure he doesn't break in again."

Another recognizable blur -- made up mostly of blue, black, and white smudges -- shows up in front of you and crouches to meet with your face. Weren't he so used to wearing such similar colours and casual outfits all the time, you would have a harder time distinguishing him beyond that of his low voice and New York accent. He scoots a bit closer and reaches out for your face, hands brushing with your ears as he slips on your glasses for you. It's as clear as day he's already regretting what he's done, judging by the way his gaze averts from yours when you're able to see clearly again.

"You alright? Your allergy's lookin' worse than yesterday's." While it's initially unclear as to why he hesitated after putting on your glasses for you, just one closer look through all the puffiness of your face lets you see a faint, microscopical hint of red on his cheekbones. "...Sorry 'bout touchin' you like that, by the way. Dunno what got into me, but, uh-"

"You mean you putting on my glasses for me?"

"Yeah -- That was way outta hand of me. Sorry if that made you uncomfortable."

You take a second to think over what he means with that -- mind still processing everything as quickly as an old desk computer -- until you remember how his brother tried to set you both up a while back. 

If that was enough to get the one being set up all worked up around you even for the most trifling matters, you can't imagine how the monster's feeling now that he's taken such an intimate initiative with you, considering he could've simply offered you the glasses rather than slip them on for you. "That's okay." You snicker, dismissing his worry with a smile. "It's no big deal, really."

"Still, that was wrong of me." He smiles back at you, though that expression soon fades as he dwells deeper and longer into what's happened. "I did that without your knowledge, and we're not even friends yet. I took that, uh, incident back at the park too close to heart, so I'm not really sure what to do anymore or how close I should act with you." Sans takes a hand to the back of his neck, sighs, and rubs at it, inadvertently sitting next to you in bed as he contemplates the situation while facing the floor. "I need to tell Paps to stop settin' us up anymore in the future. Not only is it unfair for you with all the stuff you have goin' on. But well... I'm not too sure about what being in a relationship entails, either. I mean, seriously -- Being set up like this's really not my thing. Maybe it's different for others, but I just can't date a person or go out with 'em unless I'm real close to 'em." His shoulders stiffen, and he looks up at you with widened irises and a meek grin. "God, I'm… I'm not even sure why I'm tellin' you all this, though. It's-"

Remembering Papyrus's request, you intervene with, "Can I kiss your cheek, uh… bone? Maybe you could sort out your feelings a bit more if you try it."

Seemingly at a loss for words, the skeleton nods as a response.

You move a bit closer to him and press a quick kiss on his cheekbone, keeping all other limbs aside to prevent touching him anywhere else. His face turns a bit hotter now, similar though not as noticeable as when humans blush, so you assume he's going through the same thing despite those subtle differences. He looks away when you move back, though he faces you again when you ask, "How did that feel?"

There's a long beat of silence between you, until he eventually breaks it with, "It felt nice."

"Like in a platonic sort of sense, or otherwise?"

"...I'm not sure."

You hum and lose yourself in your thoughts, motivated by the kiss and his reaction to it. His body language is either good enough to mask any further embarrassment; that, or he just really didn't feel anything out of the ordinary when being kissed on the cheekbone. You try to think back on past experiences and remember how Jerry was a lot shyer than you when it came to being upfront and honest about your feelings with each other. Both your appearances deceived in that aspect, as your roles in twelve grade were like those of a high school movie clique: Jerry was a popular soccer athlete back then, while you were the quiet and lonesome nerd in charge of the library. You kissed him first though, and you were the first to admit your feelings for him after you discovered you liked both boys and girls alike.

"Well, how about this," you speak up, gaining his attention again. "Could you imagine yourself doing anything romantic with any of your past crushes, like kissing, hugging, or just… full-on making out?"

"Hard pass on the last one. Don't think I can imagine myself doing somethin' like that with someone -- unless I'm maybe really, really close to 'em. Other than that, well… I guess I wouldn't mind doin' all that other stuff." 

"So if we both had a crush on each other, would you see yourself on a date with me? If you can't use me as an example, imagine someone else you're more comfortable with."

He looks away again. Still, he nods. "Just with none of that steamier stuff. I've heard some of my co-workers up here say they're all about this and that, and how often they do stuff like that with their partner, but I just can't really see myself in a situation like that one -- Or just… Not yet, at least."

"That's normal, then. Intimate stuff like that isn't for everyone." Your smile grows at the feeling that you're making progress with Papyrus's request. "Some are just fine with what you said, and others don't even have a need for romance in their lives. Just like marriage and children aren't for everyone, romance and sexual intimacy aren't, either."

"Thanks," he says, meeting your eyes with a less tense gaze of his own. "How did ya learn 'bout this kinda stuff, by the way? I think maybe Alphys and Undyne know a bit about this themselves, but, uh… I never had the guts to talk to 'em."

You grin. "So you ask a complete stranger about it?"

Thankfully, he knows you're joking and follows up to it by jabbing your side with his elbow. "You caught me in a vulnerable state."

"How so?" you ask, scooting closer on instinct.

"Things are different here at the Surface," he replies, suddenly wistful. "When you passed out yesterday, that reality hit me, and so I kinda just… froze at the thought of losing you."

"How's it different down there? Does… Does that mean if I were there, I wouldn't die as easily as I would here?"

"Not exactly. There's just a different system down there, and it helps strong-willed humans have a second chance and more at life."

"But strong-willed could mean both good people and not, right? How would you deal with bad ones, if it came to it?"

"That's where the whole situation with your kid takes place. It's not that we wanted to hurt 'em, but that there were plenty of factors that made us view humans as a threat back then. It was them who taught us there's another way around it. But then again, I think those points you've made're important, and that you really shouldn't just forgive us outta-"

"Time's up, mister Serif. The patient has other people who want to see them."

Nearly disheartened by how time runs short, you end it on that and make a (metaphorically) telepathic note to continue with the conversation during your tour, something you both agree on with a nod. There would be plenty of time to talk about that there, though that's not to say you don't want to have all that information discussed right here and now. "I don't think I've said this before, so… Thank you for all your help. I'm not sure I'd even be here if you hadn't been there at the bus for me." You pause and smile. "Friendly hug?"

Sans chuckles and sits down again. "Friendly hug." He takes up your offer faster than the first two times since you first met him. It feels far more natural now, almost as if the previous two had been reciprocated to, but with that doubt still on his mind, weighing him down. "This's probably really damn weird, but you're kinda… comfortable to hug."

"Okay, yeah. That's kinda weird." You laugh. "Comfortable as in soft or warm or-"

"Comfortable as in I could easily fall asleep on you if you keep huggin' me like this. But yeah -- That's probably the reason why."

"So you'd say you like cuddling, then?"

"Definitely better than all that other stuff."

"See that?" You let go of him and let your smile grow. "You're understanding yourself more already. That's good!"

"Is it? I thought I was too old for that."

"Oh, come on." You judge him. "You're a science wiz, aren't you? People all experience things differently and at different stages. You're being rude to yourself. Just give yourself a chance to grow and understand yourself a little more!"

"I'd hate to break you two up, but people are waiting outside."

You both freeze at the sound of the nurse's voice being so close now. She's standing nearby now rather than simply waiting by the doorway, an observation that makes you question just when she'd come closer and how much she'd heard you talk as a result. Still, she doesn't appear fazed nor bothered by anything, so you take it she'd either just arrived at your side or had found a way not to overhear while she waited.

"The doctor should be here soon, so we have to cut your visits short."

In compliance to her words, you wrap your conversation up with the skeleton and tell him you'll message him over your next tour date. You would need a little more time to recover now, so it would only be common sense to check through your schedule, sort things out with your job, and manage how you would deal with Frisk's school days and homework. The monsters were already doing you plenty of favours, and yet you only knew two of them in person, three if you counted how often you talked with Toriel through phone and video calls despite not visiting her home to this day. Asking them for any more help than what they were already giving was out of the question. 

Even if such fantasy-like beings existed, that didn't mean they were as magically potent as most books made them out to be. At the end of the day, they were living, breathing beings just like you, with lives of their very own and troubles just like any other human being you knew. What made you different were your appearances and customs, and even then that was something that could be overlooked with due time and mutual understanding, as it isn't as important as who they are and what they do to live each day like you did with your own.

"Let me know if ya need help with Frisk's school," Sans says, already standing near the doorway. "You can't recover if you don't look for help."

And with that, he leaves.

Whether you were an open book or he a mind reader, you can't tell for certain, but if there's one thing you could use presently, it's words like those.

You barely have a chance to say thank you as other visitors step inside, some familiar and some not.

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

• • •

The holidays are now over where I'm from, so expect updates to return to their usual Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday schedule (depending on the chapters' lengths) starting from the 16th of this month!

• • •

Tag List (Comment or message me if you want to be added to it!)

@the-simp-express​

@nektotersh

[dankmemes-of-dantooine]

Would you feel comfortable writing Obikin or nah?

Or a crack fic like a potluck picnic at the Jedi Temple? 🧐

🧺

So this started out as a little thing and turned into a slow burn multiple chapter monstrosity. 😅😬this first bit is mostly angsty and fluffy but I promise I will update with the second (maybe third parts?) tonight and hopefully tomorrow. This became a slow burn thats torturing ME LOL. I like a lot of lead up. You’ll learn to love this about me. I hope.

Shoulder Your Burden (part one)

It had been a particularly rotten day, even for war.

The 501st and the 212th had been deployed together to a Separatist stronghold though, which meant Obi-Wan and Anakin would be commanding alongside one another.

The council typically tried to avoid situations like this, not only because in the tragic and unlikely event that both units were wiped out, they would lose some of their best men and potentially two of their best generals, but also because anyone that had spent more than fifteen minutes in a room together with Obi-Wan and Anakin was readily privy to the fact that they tended attract chaos and misadventures.

The fact remained, however, that they were two of the Republic’s cleverest, and had navigated themselves out of dozens of ostensibly no-win scenarios in the past, suffering only minor casualties.

Not to mention that this mission had required a degree of ace flying that not many in the galaxy were capable of, and the two men had years of that under their belts.

Due to a miscalculation, or bit of bad information from and informant, they had found themselves in a Separatist ambush today.

And due to an honest mistake and misjudgment on Anakin’s part, they had lost a lot of men. This settled heavy in Anakins stomach like duracrete. The guilt seeped into every fiber of his being. He’d been foolish and now men were dead.

He had thought that splitting the units and having Obi-Wan’s men ambush from behind and drive the droids into a narrow canyon so they could be picked off easily would be the best move. What their informant hadn’t told them, was that there were already droids waiting in the valley to ambush THEM, and what he had effectively done was corner his men and send them into a slaughter. Their plan had been completely reversed on them, and now the canyon was an abattoir reeking of death, and it was his fault.

The battlefield was permeated with the stench of blood and ozone, and spent blaster fire, and Anakin was steadily becoming overwhelmed. The guilt settled in his stomach along with the heavy stench of death suffered due to his mistakes overcame him. He leaned against a large boulder and wretched, becoming sick.

He wiped his mouth, jumping and weaving over the bodies of fallen clones and droids, trying his best to make it through the narrow canyon alive.

He was steadily being swarmed by battle droids when he saw the transport coming in for a landing at about 80 yards out.

Naturally, once again, Obi-Wan was bailing him out.

He picked up pace, jumping over debris and bodies, scanning for survivors.

He spotted a clone struggling to get out from under a piece of ruined machinery, a tank he thought.

He stopped, ducking to avoid blaster fire, and attempted to force push it off the soldier.

A bolt grazed his hand, flames of pain immediately licking his palm all the way up to his shoulder.

He let a frustrated growl of pain, concentration broken momentarily.

“Leave me, sir! There’s too many.”

Anakin shook his head stubbornly, still trying to move the debris.

“No! You’re making it out of here with me.”

The clone shook his head, gesturing to his ruined legs pinned beneath the hunk of metal.

“No sir, I can’t walk. It’s been a pleasure serving, General Skywalker.”

“No, Dozer,” Anakin grit out through the pain.

Anakin felt Obi-Wan’s force signature tugging at his.

He deflected a rain of blaster bolts with his saber, still not willing to give up on Dozer.

Just then, a droid lobbed a grenade that landed squarely between the two of them. Anakin reeled back instinctively, placing enough distance between him and the explosive to avoid being filled with shrapnel.

“Dozer!”

Anakin felt himself then being pulled backwards into the transport, along with the meager few clones that had managed to survive the attack.

“No!” He thrashed, trying to dive out of the transport back into the battlefield.

Stop! Anakin we have to go.

He wrenched his arm free of whoever had a hold of him, and watched helpless as the transport doors closed. He took an unsteady breath watching from the view port, bringing a shaking hand up to wipe the blood and sweat from his brow. He stayed there for a moment, trying to push the nauseous guilt from his stomach and the vertigo from his head. His ears rung.

He felt the familiar warm hum of his masters force presence before he felt the hand on his shoulder.

“We received bad information,” Obi-Wan began, immediately absolving Anakin from any responsibility or guilt before he’d even appealed for it. It made him mad.

Anakin shook his head, not looking at his master.

“Rex and Hardcase make it out?” He asked darkly, arms crossed over his chest.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said quietly.

“Cody?”

“And Waxer, Boil, and Trapper. All accounted for.”

“At least some of them made it out,” he growled darkly, chewing the inside of his cheek,

“Where’s Ahsoka?”

“Medbay, but she’s fi-“

Anakin had already turned on his heel to stride towards Medical to check on his young padawan. She shouldn’t have even been on this mission, and because of him, she could’ve been killed. They could’ve all been killed.

He ignore the pain singing in his own hand, and pushed forward as he strode through the medbay doors that hissed open in front of him.

“Ahsoka?”

his voice was firmer than he intended, laced with the guilt and panic of having more casualties on his hands.

“Over here, Master,” the tired yet evergreenly cheerful voice of his student resounded from the far corner of the medbay where she was being worked on by a diligent medical droid.

“You’re hurt,” he said firmly, eyebrows knitting together as he sat next to her on the cot.

“I’m sorry,” he started, nodding to the injured hand the med droid was busy with.

“Just a couple of broken fingers, Master. I’ve had worse.”

His battle wearied padawan didn’t even acknowledge he blaster burns on her sides or the superficial cut above her brow. He cursed himself for setting a bad example and ignoring injury, and as he considered his, his own injuries thrummed warmly, reminding him he still needed to attend to his wounds.

“You’re staying at the temple until you’re healed,” he started, not meeting her eye until she issued a whine of protest.

“But Master-“

“Ahsoka,” he warned

She quieted, looking down at her wounds.

“And anyways,” he continued, “after today I imagine the whole 501st and 212th will be grounded for awhile. At least until we can heal, and figure out if we’ve got a bad informant or a turncoat on our hands. You need the rest anyways,” he said offering a dull smile, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Yes, Master,” she agreed, offering a similar weak smile.

Anakin stood and strode from the medbay, neglecting to mention his own injuries to the medical droid.

—————

Anakin found himself standing in front of the viewport, cradling his injured hand in his mechano-hand.

Since he had been foolish enough to neglect to seek attention from the med droids when they were on the Jedi Cruiser or the clone transport, he figured he would just grit through it and handle it himself when the city transport got them to the temple.

Anakin felt Obi-Wan tentatively approach to take a place next to him at the viewport. The two were quiet for a moment, content to merely be in one another’s presence. Their force bond hummed like a live wire between them. Anakin knew that Obi-Wan could feel how taut and raw his nerves were, and it made him squirm. He hated feeling weak and emotionally compromised.

“You’re injured,” Obi-Wan stated after a time.

“I’m alright,” Anakin grit through his teeth.

Obi-Wan drew nearer, half expecting Anakin to hiss at him like a feral Loth-cat.

“Let me see.”

“No.”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan sighed, exasperated, already going for the med kit.

“I’m fine, Master.”

“Sit still,” Obi-Wan huffed, dragging the med kit out.

Pain pulsed through Anakin’s hand, making the ends of his fingertips sing with a dull throbbing each time his heartbeat roared in his chest. The gash in his palm was deep, but not enough to need stitches, he thought. It was ugly and singed around the edges, and it would scar.

Obi-Wan took his hand gingerly, and Anakin gasped at the contact.

Obi-Wan’s brow furrowed in concern, guilt dancing darkly in his eyes as he brushed an unspoken apology against their force bond.

Anakin resisted, maintaining a tight clamp on his mental walls. His Master couldn’t know the gasp was simply in response to be handled so gently by him. Anakin had scarcely felt touch that wasn’t hand to hand combat or a rough grip on the shoulder from one of the clones in months. He was a man starved, and he ached.

“Sorry, dear one, I know-“

A sharp hiss through his teeth that was in response to his pain echoed through the ship as Obi-Wan started with cleaning and dressing the wound.

He would flick his eyes up to meet Anakin’s every so often, trying to gauge for pain, but Anakin was looking at the floor, the ceiling, out the viewports, anywhere but the deep empathetic pools of Obi-Wan’s eyes.

Obi-Wan worked diligently and delicately, putting concerted effort into causing the younger man as little pain as was possible when addressing a wound like this. It wasn’t as bad as either of them had originally feared. It would hurt for several days, but Anakin had had worse, and he figured he’d have forgotten he even hurt it within three or four weeks. It would scar, though.

He tapped his thigh, busying his mind with charts, timelines for healing, anything to keep his mind and eyes off of the way his masters eyes pierced into the very core of his being.

They were too deep, and too kind, and they made him feel like he was suffocating. He didn’t deserve the worry and care the man handled him with. It nearly made him angry. He absolutely couldn’t look at him now though, not with the way the concern and guilt and worry washed over him through their force bond. It made him feel safe, but it also made him feel small, like a child. He could handle himself. He wasn’t some clumsy youngling who needed all his little wounds dressed.

He tried to push back cheap reassurances, but Obi-Wan’s energy was so overpowering.

“I’m fine, Master,” he finally managed, his voice thankfully more steadfast and sturdy than he thought he would be able to manage.

“Something troubles you,” he posited softly, finishing work on bandaging his hand.

Anakin shook his head.

Obi-Wan sighed, and Anakin felt a tinge of sadness seep into their force bond before his master clamped down on his emotions.

Obi-Wan patted the newly bandaged hand, letting his hand linger just a moment, a gentle gesture that made Anakin’s stomach flutter.

“All fixed up, dear one. Do try not to lose this hand too.” Half a smile tugged at Obi-Wans tired face.

I’m only teasing.

Anakin rolled his eyes, allowing himself a small smile.

I know.

They weren’t so much words as, impressions of feelings that...felt like words. It was hard to explain to a non force user, but Anakin imagined it was much like how animals communicated. With impressions rather than words.

Obi-Wan’s eyes lingered on Anakin for a moment, hoping he would air whatever ailed him.

Anakin looked at the floor, chewing his cheek.

“Men died today, Master. Because of me.”

Obi-Wan sighed, stroking his beard contemplatively.

“Men died today, because we are at war, Anakin.”

“But ultimately I made the decision. I’m responsible for my men and today-“

he grit his teeth, jaw working against the overdue tears pooling in his eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying desperately to block out the tirade of his feelings crashing over him.

Obi-Wan’s presence brushed against his mind, caressing him warmly like he had since he was a child. It was gold, and warm, and gentle.

Stop.

Anakin pleaded. The kindness overwhelmed him, and crying right now would be mortifying.

Obi-Wan placed a hand on Anakin’s shoulder.

“You cannot let the burden of horrors of a whole war you did not start rest on your shoulders, padawan,”

Obi-Wan hummed softly, his thumb gently and subtly rubbing reassuring circles Anakin’s shoulder. It felt like a hot poker, in the best way.

Electricity zipped through his body at the touch, but he grit his teeth against it. Anakin fought the urge to nuzzle into his hand.

“I’m not your padawan-“ he spat.

“Still you call me Master,” Obi-Wan retorted, eyes dancing with hopefulness that Anakin would let his shields down, even for a moment.

Anakin chewed his cheek, finally turning to meet his former master’s eye for what felt like the first time all day.

Obi-Wan was radiant. It felt like Anakin could see the warmth he produced rolling off him in waves. He was long suffering, so patient. He was beautiful. Why did he continue to be so patient with him, Anakin wondered.

I’m here.

The phrase sang against their force bond as Anakin placed his forehead on the older man’s shoulder, allowing Obi-Wan to pull him in for a brief embrace.

Energy thrummed between them, and Anakin felt pinpricks of electricity everywhere their skin touched.

Why did he feel like this? He was sure he hadn’t always. He’d spent long years alongside Obi-Wan, sometimes having no other companions. So why now did he suddenly feel exhilarated each time their skin touched?

Thinking back on it actually, he had always harbored a deep affection for the older man that he assumed all padawans had for their masters. That or, it was his damn tendency to be over emotional. He could never tell if his emotions were bigger and heavier than other Jedi, or if he was just exceptionally bad at controlling them.

Obi-Wan seemed so steadfast, not even radiating with the tremendous grief Anakin knew he must have felt after he lost his master and was immediately stuck with Anakin. Anakin had wept, and he’d only known Qui-Gon a short time. Master Kenobi had remained with a stiff upper lip in those days, serious but not broken, and he certainly didn’t let on that he was hurting. Anakin remembered how it had made him mad, that Obi-Wan could be so unfeeling and unperturbed by death. But he grew to envy that trait over the years.

These thoughts zapped through his mind at light speed, neurons firing and firing again, grasping at missed cogs like a broken droid, as he tried to sort out what exactly hummed in his stomach. If only he could tinker on his brain the way he could tinker on speeders and droids.

“You’re going to the medbay and getting pain pills and antibiotics when we land.” Obi-Wan’s voice seemed to pull him back into his body, grounding him, as it always did.

Anakin groaned, rolling his eyes, pulling away to gather his things and prepare for landing.

“And bacta spray!” Obi-Wan called after him.

———————-

Anakin settled himself into his quarters at the Temple. As he had predicted, the council had grounded both their units for three weeks until they could get to the bottom of what was going on with their informant. Ahsoka, had been granted a full week off. Anakin had found out later that she had been solely responsible for making sure Rex made it out alive, and he figured she deserved the full THREE weeks off. But the council insisted she upkeep her training. Sometimes it felt as though Ahsoka ought to be training him.

Anakin had been expecting a verbal thrashing from the council. He loathed going to council meetings. It made him feel so examined, so naked.

They had sort of thrashed him, but not worse than he was used to. So he was his regular level of sour and displeased upon returning to his quarters. He felt like he’d been sent to his room to think about what he’d done. And think about it, he did. It was all he could think about.

Obi-Wan had offered to swing by and split some Ruby Bliels with him later, and after mulling it over for a moment, he’d decided to oblige.

Anakin knew that Obi-Wan knew they were his favorite, and only offered when he knew Anakin was in his head and really suffering. It made Anakin feel naked and embarrassed to know his old master had such a good read on him, but from time to time he obliged the older Jedi and allowed him to extend the kind gesture.

Still, Anakin was nearly surprised when the soft knocks resounded on his door. He couldn’t be bothered to get up from his spot on the floor where he was meditating, so he flicked his wrist and let the force do the work of opening the door.

———

Sorry to leave on a cliff hanger! Tumblr is so mad at me for posting this much text 😂 there’s a lot more. Stay tuned!

Tagging: @haydens-moles @chokemeanakin @anakinswhore @fistmebuckyskywalker

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

[indefinitely-in-fandom-hell]

It’s Gaara Week! - just kidding, Gaara Week is in January - this is Gaara Weekly. So I heard the topic this time is:

“what Gaara would do together with Shinki if he had some time off” 

now that’s just wholesome, how could I not at least *attempt to* provide some headcanons?

*side note: I have no idea how I ended up with this mess of a post but here you go*

So we know their hobbies: Gaara likes “battling” according to the second databook and by the time the third came around, he added “cultivating cacti” to the mix. Shinki likes both “gardening” and “embroidery” according to character trivia from Boruto. Makes sense that they would bond over tending to plants right? In fact, most would probably assume that Shinki adopted this hobby from his father. And while I do believe they get some rare father-son time tending to Gaara's cacti together - I don't know if that's what they would actually choose to do if they had a significant amount of free time.

If I was being realistic: They would probably spend their days off training.

_________________________ Yeah I hear you people in the back screaming “booo” - but this seems to be the most realistic scenario - to me at least. So let me explain:

His people and village always seem to be the priority for Gaara and Shinki is the future of Suna, not only as the Kazekage's heir but simply as part of the next generation who will take on leadership positions after the current decision-makers retire. There is not a single doubt in my mind that Gaara views mentoring future generations as one of his top priorities. Shinki wants to make his father proud and properly represent his family and village. He is hugely appreciative of any training time his busy father can spare for him - such an opportunity doesn't come every day. Both of them have very no-nonsense, goal-oriented personalities.

- So if Gaara had a couple of hours to spend however he wanted, he would invest them in the future of his village: Shinki. If Shinki had the chance to get some in-depth one-on-one training with his father, he would jump at the opportunity.

We know that Gaara, unlike Naruto with his son, has at least somewhat regularly been training Shinki in person. He has mentioned how he taught his son 'everything he knows' and Shinki actually training directly with his (very busy) father just makes sense: The two of them are the only people we know of with their kekkei genkai - and Gaara is the only one with abilities almost identical to Shinki's. It’s true that Gaara only knows the basics when it comes to iron sand - or rather, that was confirmed to be the case until at least the early blank period. But he would know next to every use of regular sand and that’s still more than any other jonin in suna. Of course, as the Kazekage, Gaara simply doesn't have the time to do the majority of Shinki's training - but I wouldn’t question that he's the one giving the crucial advice, reviewing his training progress and telling his son what abilities need more work.  

So if he has a little bit of time to spare - I have no doubt he would (and does) put most of it into training Shinki. And that includes days off. 

_________________________

.

.

.

But y'all didn't come for that - don't lie.

*enter Part 2: “But what if we talk about cats instead?”

We love these two (and the entire Sand-family for that matter) so naturally, we want to see them use their time off for anything BUT work or training. Gaara and Shinki are definitely the worst offenders here, they always seem like those people who would rather work on their duties than cut cake on their birthdays - Gaara more so because he seems very focused on always putting his own pleasure behind doing 'something useful to others' and Shinki because he's just beginning to realize the value of friendship. *Insert mlp meme here*

So for the sake of fun, we will just assume SOMETIMES Gaara decides that his son should do “normal activities” instead of training and ends up going somewhere with him. But where? If for some reason, Shinki were to accompany his father to another village for a diplomatic meeting, I think they would definitely walk around that village a bit and just take in the local culture: food, sights, and the like. Imagine the way Lee and Tenten showed Gaara and Kankuro around Konoha in episode 497 and had them try ramen for the first time - kind of like that. But this example also shows just how rarely Gaara seems to get time off during official visits: it took him being Kazekage for 4 years until he ate his first Ramen - but ok, if the war hadn’t been in the way I guess Naruto would have made him try it sooner. Now, if we are talking about “regular” time off, the place would definitely need to be in Suna - Gaara is important for the protection of his village so he can’t just leave whenever he wants.

I’m also going to assume that Gaara can walk around relatively freely without being bothered by crowds - if simply for the fact that we have seen him do so before, at least in other villages. Gaara strikes me as a character who could very much enjoy new experiences - there was once a time when most things “normal” people did were foreign to him and he had to go through a very steep learning curve after his first encounter with Naruto. I can see him trying new things when he gets the chance and also wanting to encourage Shinki to do the same - so long something falls not too far outside both of their comfort zones.

.

We established all the little details but no one has gone anywhere yet. So if we are going for something interesting: > how about we bring cats into this?

Gaara and Shinki strike me as having a lot of, for the lack of a better word, “cat-people energy” - were they aware of this before this fateful day? Probably not. Were they aware of it afterward? - you bet!

Gaara felt a bit confused when he heard that Suna would be hosting a big pet show for the first time in a few years *he had to sign the paperwork after all* - what was that again? People bring their cats and dogs to show them to visitors and a jury?

“Must be another unique way humans manage to be vain about their property” - the concept of placing much importance in the things one owns and how they reflect on you was something Gaara understood as a concept but never fancied.

He didn’t understand very well why visitors would want to see such a spectacle until Kankuro said something along the lines of “sometimes people just want to see animals do cute stuff I guess? You know how girls and kids are - show them a dog rolling over and they will go crazy - don’t worry too much about it, I’m also not much of a fan.”

On a second thought: “Oh but maybe Shinki likes that stuff? I mean he’s a kid - ..... although he doesn’t behave like one most of the time.”

- and with that comment, the deal was settled: there would be father-son bonding time scheduled and they would go observe cute animals!!

Shinki wasn’t very thrilled but what can you do - he wanted to train but was too well behaved and respected his father too much to object any of his decisions - no matter how strange some of them sounded.

In the end, none of them had high expectations for this trip but they went anyway because “At worst we have made a valuable experience” - Gaara

*Shinki didn’t dare question what could be “valuable” about this*

As it turned out, the date they picked for their visit was designated for cats of all breeds --

Of course, both Gaara and Shinki had seen cats before - from afar. No one in their family owned any animals - if you didn’t factor in the deer raised on the property of the Nara-clan.

But they had also HEARD about cats before

--------- mostly because Shukaku never seemed to miss an opportunity to insult them: “cats are the most useless creatures, it goes to show how stupid humans are for domesticating them” - “and you are sure you aren’t just saying this because kids always seem to mistake you for one?” -Kankuro would add

*Needless to say: Kankuro still enjoyed provoking people he really shouldn’t.* -------------

Well now the two shinobi were in front of one - their first close encounter with a feline - a big sand-colored persian with her owner, a friendly-looking old lady, standing next to her.

“Well I suppose they are quite endearing with their big eyes” -Gaara noted

Old lady: “Oh dear would you like to come closer? She really enjoys being pet behind her ears - she’s even calm with most strangers”

Gaara was a bit hesitant

When you’ve only ever heard bad things about cats and their temper you might think twice about petting them when you get the chance - at least until you take the courage to hold out your hand and they start purring like you are their best friend and they will love you forever.

Now, if anything gets Gaara - it’s being shown unconditional love and acceptance in unexpected places

yes apparently this does not exclude kitties

*holding out his hand while the cat is purring and meowing* Gaara : O.O Shinki, next to him: O.O Both of them internally: "ohhhh so THAT'S what all the fuss is about"

- Instant non-verbal agreement that cats are awesome

After that encounter, both might or might not have been extremely tempted to adopt a cat.

But since Gaara knew no one in this family had much time to spend at home - *and because he had this lingering sense that the cat might develop a taste for his succulents* - he had to resist.

This however wouldn’t mean that their next “family day” wasn’t already planned to be a trip to the local animal shelter. _________________________ Bonus:

eventually, Shukaku finds out about their trips and is NOT amused that they considered bringing one of “those things” home.

Yes- he’s still fuming from that one time he was carried by Shinki in his more “compact” form and a toddler pointed at them saying “oh your cat is so chubby! can I pet it? Pleeeeese!!” (*needless to say both Shinki and Gaara were mortified back then and hurried to get Shukaku away from the little girl before any casualties were to occur*)

He continues to sulk for at least a full month about this “betrayal”.

[libsterslobsters]

I'm Gonna Crawl: Post 1

(Divided because of length)

Post 2

Summary: Five years. That's how long the reader and Bucky have been apart (although for him, it was only five minutes) Now with Thanos defeated and both of them taking up the mantle of Avengers, can their relationship return to what it was? Or will they have to discover a new normal?

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem! enhanced! super-soldier! Reader (Reader can see pieces of the future in visions as well as speak every language)

Warnings: Angst, fluff, language

Author's note: Tumblr is being a poo-poo head and won't let me post the whole fic because it's too long, so this is a two parter.

*************************************************

The text comes when she’s in the middle of teaching English feminine and masculine pronouns. Immediately, she knows it’s something important. There’s a very limited amount of people she’s allowed to filter through the “do not disturb” status she sets her phone in while she’s in the classroom. Her first though is Barnes, but at this point, he’s memorized her schedule even more thoroughly than she has, so it’s unlikely he’s responsible for the disturbance. Pepper, maybe? But no, she’s a powerful enough woman that if she needed anything, she could simply ask and it would be hers. Peter? It’s within normal high school hours, so if he’s messaging her, she’ll give him a lecture next time she sees him for texting in class. That only leaves one person, or rather, organization. As she instructs her students to come up with a few examples of common words which can be said different ways to demonstrate masculine and feminine, then takes a moment to check her phone, her suspicions are confirmed. Rhodes. The Avengers.

“You guys keep working. That’s an example of an English masculine. Now what would the feminine be?” A chorus of ‘gals’ follows her out the door. Once she’s rounded the corner, she dials the number, completely skipping the texting process. The line only rings once before Rhodey answers.

“Hello?”

“Soothsayer. What is it?”

“You need to come in. We’ve got a mission, and it has to be you.” She lets out a silent groan before asking,

“How much time have I got to square things away at work?”

“Wheel’s up in ninety minutes. You need to be here at least fifteen before to read over your orders.” Her boss isn’t going to be happy, but it’s doable.

“Right. I think I just got a crippling migraine. I’ll call you back later.”

“Thanks. I owe you one.”

“You’re damn right.” She mutters it as the line goes dead.

Thirty minutes later, she’s on her way after giving the sub her notes and her boss a bullshit excuse. So far, no one’s worked out that she’s one of the people who fought in the battle against Thanos, and she hopes to keep it that way.

She speeds across the city, driving a little faster than is responsible, but her reflexes are fast enough to cover for it. If this is going to be the sort of mission where they need her brawn as well as her brains, she’d like a few minutes to warm up before she has to hop on a quinjet. Grabbing her go-bag (complete with weapons, her suit, and a set of spare cosmetics), she jumps out of the car as soon as it’s parked in front of the newly rebuilt Avengers compound. Warm up, and make a call to-

“Well, look who the cat dragged in.” She turns her head towards the voice, catching sight of Sam and-

“What’d you tell them? Stomach flu?” Barnes. Okay, maybe she won’t have to call him after all, but that brings up more questions than answers.

“Migraine.” She falls into step next to him while Sam rushes on ahead. “They called you too, huh?”

He nods, grimacing. “Looks like it’s something big.” Obviously. If they’ve called in both him and Sam, not just one or the other, then it’s a guarantee the situation is FUBAR. Plus her? She’s usually in the background. If she’s being pulled then-

“You alright?” She nods, smiling with more confidence than she feels.

“Yeah. Just wish I knew what we were getting into. If they want both unstable super soldiers-” It’s a joke, which thankfully, he gets.

“Then the situation must be pretty hairy.” That’s putting it lightly. They’ve never been called up together before. Never.

If the mounting evidence weren’t enough to clue her in that this is going to be major, the final factor would be, after Rhodes explains to all three of them that with the return of so many people to Earth, a former dictator who disappeared in the snap has gathered up his forces and is attempting to usurp a now-peaceful democracy in hopes of using the territory to levy compliance from surrounding nations. Usually that wouldn’t be their thing, but when the words “dirty bomb” and “gamma radiation” are brought into play, it’s no mystery as to why they’re being called in.

It’s about what she expected. Falcon is running point, Winter Soldier is the man on the grassy knoll (she shudders when Rhodey goes with that particular descriptor because of a confession several years back just after he woke up in Wakanda; “I really hope I’m remembering this wrong and it was just a dream, but I think I was behind what happened to the president.”), and she’s on evac and rescue, making sure there’s as few civilian casualties as possible. However, when the briefing is called to a close, it’s a total shock that Sam is let go while she and Barnes are told to stay back.

Rhodes sits at the edge of his desk, arms crossed, wearing his most serious expression. “You two have completed the appropriate training hours together, correct?”

“Yes.” They say it at the same time, and she has to bite her cheek to keep from yelling out, “Jinx!” It was a requirement after the defeat of Thanos that the two of them specifically learn how to work together as a team, play off of each other’s strengths, just in case something truly catastrophic happened. She also trained with Bucky and Sam as their third. What she’s wondering is, why ask a question Rhodes clearly knows the answer to? He’s the one who set up the training, after all.

“And you’re comfortable working as a squad?” She catches Bucky’s eye, and it’s clear that he’s come to the same conclusion as her: this isn’t what Rhodey is really after.

“We’re fully capable, yes.” He’s the one that answers, while she reaches out into the unknown, hoping for a vision. No dice.

With a sigh, Rhodey stands.

“What I mean is, can you be objective out there on the battlefield? Can you work together like anyone else?” This time, she’s the one to speak up.

“Can we be objective? Yes. Can we work together like anyone else? No, but that was your goal with the training program.”

“You wouldn’t have called the two of us up if you didn’t need what we can do together.”

For a moment, she feels sympathy for Rhodes. The poor man is clearly struggling to make a point. That’s when it hits her, a vision of what he’s prepared for them to do. As soon as it passes, she kicks Barnes’ chair leg lightly, which is enough that he gets the message.

“Just say it, because she’s already seen it.” She wouldn’t want to be in Rhodes’ position for the world right now with the news he’s about to deliver.

“Fine.” Rhodey nods. “If we get in a tight spot, someone is going to have to draw fire. It can’t be Barnes for obvious reasons.” Part of their mission is to obtain stolen scientific data located deep inside enemy lines. She’s smaller and therefore faster, can fit into tight places more easily, but he’s been trained to go unnoticed, and what’s more, to incapacitate anyone who sees more than they should. It’s an obvious choice. She’s in essence the diversion, the boy crying wolf while the real thief makes off with the shepherds’ wallets. Her size and speed will work to her advantage, as well as the fact that they won’t recognize her, so they won’t know right away that she’s the decoy, whereas the second they have eyes on him or Sam, they’ll know to batten down the hatches.

She doesn’t have to look beside her to know what he thinks of that idea. She can practically feel him seething. But, it’s a scenario that, along with Sam, they’ve trained for.

“What I need to know is that, once the bullets start flying, you won’t fall back on instinct and run to protect each other. Out there, you are not a couple. You’re teammates, fellow soldiers, nothing more. Got it?”

She keeps her eyes focused on Rhodey’s face as she nods, otherwise hers will show what she’s feeling. “Agreed.”

“Barnes?” There’s a pause, so long she’s about to kick his chair leg again just to get a reaction.

“Understood.”

“Good.” Rhodes’ posture immediately changes. “Now, suit up. Quinjet is leaving at 1300 hours.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

“Oh!” Bucky looks up from the building schematics he’s studying at the surprised noise from the woman next to him. “This one’s actually not bad.”

“Which one?” He leans towards her, scanning the house listing on her phone. “Nah. I don’t like the look of that roof.”

“True, but it says here they’re willing to knock some off the asking price if we’re willing to do our own repairs-”

A groan issues from the other side of the jet.

“Are you two really searching realtor.com while we’re on our way to save the world?” Sam asks, scowling.

“No, of course not.” She shakes her head, smirking. “It’s zillow.” That reminds him-

“Scroll down. Let’s see when it was built.” It looks like… ah. “Hard no. That thing’s older than me.”

“And like you, it has character.” It’s too good of an opportunity to pass up. He sees an opening, and he’s going for it.

“Did you just compare me to a house?” She snickers.

“Now that you mention it, there are some similarities. Good bones, had some renovations done, could use some landscaping-”

“You know, you could’ve just said ditch the beard.”

She gasps, clutching a hand to her chest. “I would never!”

“Alright, I’m gonna stop you there.” Sam holds up a hand. “If you’re gonna talk about his hair anywhere below the neck, I’m gonna open up the hatch and jump out.” It would be a more effective threat if he wasn’t already wearing his wings.

“Mind out of the gutter, Sam.” She half-heartedly scolds before returning to examine her phone. “The market is just shit right now but there’s got to be something listed that’s less expensive than renting an apartment in the middle of Brooklyn…” That’s what all of this is about, really. After the snap (at least from what he’s read) the price of renting was lower than it had been since the fifties. Now that everything is back to normal, everyone and their mother is looking for a place to rent. Not that he can blame them. He’s one of the returned, after all.

“I guess we could move into the complex once it’s repaired. Just for a little while-”

“Nope.” Sam cuts them off. “Hell no. It’s enough that I gotta deal with you and Judge Dredd here being all domestic on missions. If I have to hear you two going at it, I’m gonna lose my shit.”

He may not understand the pop culture reference, but he caught the sexual one. The truth is, they haven’t slept together since he returned. It’s not like things have been platonic; they shower together, cuddle, and make out like teenagers walking down lovers’ lane. However, five years is a long time (even if for him, it was barely more than an instant), and while he’s ready to resume their sex life, he’s not going to push in case she’s not there yet.

Before he can go too far down that rabbit hole, the intercom crackles to life and their pilot announces that it’s time for the drop. He’s not a huge fan of parachuting (falling to his near death and losing an arm sort of took the magic out for him), but he calls on what remains of his training now that HYDRA’s brainwashing has been deactivated and puts on an emotionless front.

“Com links on.” As Sam speaks, he activates his own com. “Everyone getting a signal?” He is, and if the face she just made is anything to judge from so is she. “Okay. I drop first, then on my mark, Winter Soldier drops; five seconds later, Soothsayer follows. Copy?”

“Copy.”

“Copy.”

Sam shoots them a grin that doesn’t completely hide his nerves. “Good luck.”

As soon as his partner’s exited the plane, he catches her eye. “Love you. See you on the other side.”

“Love you. Come back in one piece.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

Even before Sam hits the ground, he knows it’s going to be a shit show. Even though he doesn’t activate his com to tell them as much, it’s obvious as the super soldier plummets past him that his chute didn’t open. Sam might worry about this if it weren’t for the fact he saw Steve jump out of many a plane without anything to keep him from free falling. Their tag-along, however? She has activated her coms (either that or she forgot to deactivate them) and she lets out a gasp. That’s all, a gasp, but it’s enough to put Sam on edge. This is why coupling up is dangerous in this line of work. Your affection can work to your disadvantage.

Because he can’t have his team scattered, worrying about each other, he asks, “Barnes, do you copy?”

“Copy, Falcon. Don’t think I’ll be doing that again.”

“Oh, you are so getting shit for that when we get home.” He rolls his eyes.

“Let’s cut the chitchat. We have a mission. On my mark, Soothsayer heads into the encampment to lead any P.O.W.s and civilians away. Copy?”

“Copy.”

“Copy.”

He lands just before she does, and as soon as she’s detached her shoot, he gives her the go ahead.

Any thought that they might have succeeded in having the element of surprise on their side goes out the window when a shot whizzes past his head.

“Barnes, cover me.”

“Copy.”

Even with the rain of bullets from his own personal sniper, he barely gets past the first defensive line in one piece. He takes out at least a dozen hostiles, incapacitating when he can, eliminating where he must. Just outside the main fortress, he asks,

“Come in, Winter Soldier. How many hostiles between you and my position?”

“Eighteen.” A muffled shot follows the statement. “Seventeen.”

“Alright. Clear a path. Let’s show these sons of bitches what they get when they threaten innocent lives.”

He thinks that maybe they’ll be able to turn it around when they find their human target fairly easily and are able to capture and incapacitate. The orders, however, were not just to bring him in alive but also to seize the assets they’ve lost before a bomb squad and team of radiation specialists comes in and sweep the place. The only way he’ll be able to get their target back to the jet unharmed (not to mention survive himself) is if they do the one thing he was hoping it wouldn’t come to.

“Soothsayer, this is Falcon. Come in. Over.”

“Copy, Falcon.”

“Winter Soldier is going in. Deploy “big bad wolf” initiative.” In other words, go get shot at while at the same time covering me.

“Copy. Be advised, there are hostages in the building. I repeat, hostages in the building. Over.” For a moment he wonders if she saw it in a vision or if one of the people she’s just helped escaped has started talking out of gratitude, but pushes it to the side. He has biggest issues.

“Winter Soldier, Soothsayer, get into place. On my signal, we move.”

“Copy.”

“Copy.”

“Three… two… one… go!”

Sam kicks off into the air, thanking whoever the hell out there invented this tech that he doesn’t have to fly with an extra 250 pounds of dictator in his arms (Redwing is handling that). Out of the corner of his eye, he catches Soothsayer making a run for it, shooting as she goes. Where the hell did she get the gun? Problems for later.

He’s just about to radio into the jet to see if the ‘package’ was delivered when the shots turn in his direction. He returns fire at the same time a dagger flies past his head.

“Throw it a little closer next time Soothsayer. I dare you.” It’s muttered under his breath.

“So you wanted a sniper’s bullet in your back?” Damned super hearing.

“Aren’t you supposed to be causing a distraction?”

“I am. Close your eyes and cover your ears.” He complies just in time for the flashbang to go off over his head.

“Fuck! You could’ve told me that’s what you were doing!” There’s no reply. “Soothsayer?” A grunt followed by the sound of impact comes over the com.

“Little busy. Hold up.” Hand to hand, if he had to venture a guess. More shots are fired, and he flies lower, returning them, kicking a few assailants in the head as he goes.

“Winter Soldier, this is Falcon. Come in.”

“I read you.”

“Do you have eyes on the target?”

“Almost there. There’s a few more obstacles than we thought.”

“Copy. Over and-” He doesn’t get to finish the sentence as a yell of “Get down!” pierces the night.

It all happens in slow motion. He reaches for the shield, but he can already hear the gun discharge. A force runs into him, knocking him to the ground. Realization hits him: it’s her. He doesn’t see the bullet impact, but he hears her cry out. On instinct, he covers both of their vital organs with the shield, and that’s when he sees the splotch of red blooming from her right shoulder, which so happens to have acted as a human barrier, blocking what would have most assuredly have been a kill shot to the head for him.

“Falcon, Soothsayer, come-” There’s a muffled shout over the com, followed by more sickening thuds and a few shots.

“Barnes?” He hears a whisper of movement from behind him, and without looking, fires. “Barnes, do you copy?” As he speaks, several hostiles gang up on him at once. Using the shield to it’s full advantage, he knocks two off their feet, kicks another in the gonads, then chin, and punches two more’s lights out. He starts on the one that’s left, but out of nowhere, the hostile’s legs go out from under him. What-

“This is Barnes. I have the target. Moving hostages out now.”

Sam opens his mouth to speak again, but a tug at his ankle draws his attention. She’s sitting up, features drawn in pain and still bleeding, her fist bloody from the last hostile’s face.

“Don’t tell Barnes.”

Internally groaning, he speaks again. “Copy. Meet us back at the ship. Over and out.” Grabbing her good arm, he hauls her to her feet and drapes her body over his shoulder. “Pretty sure the blood’s gonna tip him off. And the bullet hole.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

“It’s not that bad.” This has to be the tenth time she’s repeated that sentiment in the past five minutes since arriving back at the quinjet, and yet it’s still not making an impression. As she stands yet again, Sam gives her good shoulder a hard push.

“Sit your serum-ed up ass down. You’re gonna bleed out if-” She narrows her eyes at the man with the shield. “Fine. You’re still dripping blood everywhere.” Yeah, well, it’s not like it hit a major vein or artery. She saw it coming, after all. Still… it fucking hurts.

“Shouldn’t you be hailing Barnes again?”

“Who’s in charge here? You or me?” She thinks about snapping back with something truly brutal, but bites her tongue. “Only thing you should be worrying about is how we’re gonna get that slug out of you.”

“Give me a pair of pliers and I’ll do it myself.”

“The hell you will.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! It’s-” Before she can repeat herself again, the door opens. Her breath seizes in her throat a she takes in Barnes’ appearance. Dear God.

“Target acquired?” Sam nods and motions towards the back of the plane.

“What about you? Package secure?” With a thump, a black bag is dropped onto the floor between them. Sam opens his mouth (more than likely to make a sarcastic remark about being careful with the brain child of at least a dozen scientists worldwide), but before he can-

“You’re hit.” He’s in front of her, crossing the narrow space in just two strides.

Biting back a wince, she stares pointedly at the oozing bullet wound in his thigh. “So are you.”

“It’s nothing.” She’s about to call bullshit (that’s a fuck ton of blood, and also she doesn’t remember that cut on his forehead last time she saw him), but he turns away, fixing Sam with a hard stare. “Why didn’t you say we had a man down?”

“Not a man-” She starts.

“And technically, she never went completely down. Plus-” She knows what he’s going to say, and mouths a silent ‘Don’t’, which Sam ignores. “-she told me not to.” There it is. She’s never gonna hear the end of this.

Returning his gaze to her, he asks, “You told him-”

“It wasn’t a big deal. Can we talk about this later?”

“I second that.” Sam nods. “Preferably when you’re not both about to bleed out in the air.” Bucky’s lips twitch momentarily, and she barely contains her own smirk. They’re not about to bleed out. Still-

“You want to go first with the pliers, or do you want me to?”

“For the last time, no one is using pliers to go spelunking for bullets. Aren’t you two supposed to be smart?” She raises an eyebrow in Bucky’s direction, and he smirks.

“Technically, I think the serum just turned us into better soldiers. Not geniuses.”

“Right, and since it would take us what?” She glances at her phone, checking the time. “Five hours to get home? More than likely we would’ve already started to heal pretty significantly around the bullet and would have to disrupt that so they could dig them out.”

“So, pliers.” She nods.

“Pliers.”

With a groan, Sam stands and, digging around in the compartment overhead, produces a first aid kit.

“Fine, but if either of you starts to hemorrhage, don’t come crying to me.”

Rolling her eyes at his retreating back, she asks, “The question still stands. You want to be the surgeon first or the patient?”

“That depends.” Bucky motions to her own bullet wound. “Is that as bad as it looks, or worse?”

She attempts a shrug, but the motion makes her wince. “It’s just a scratch.” The look on his face tells her he’s not convinced.

“Then I guess I’ll dig yours out first. If push comes to shove, I can fix myself up.” This time, she’s with Sam. The hell he will. She’ll just power through.

“Alright.” She motions to the few members of the TACK team still hanging around. “If you don’t want to see me shirtless, I’d suggest you find somewhere else to be, or at least look away.” Shockingly few heads turn at her words. “Okay smart-asses. What I mean is give a lady some privacy and avert your eyes.” There. That’s more like it.

She’s kinda pissed off that she’ll have to junk the suit. It was a new one. Even more infuriating is that when she goes to unzip it, thanks to her injured shoulder she can’t manage it, and what’s worse, she lets out a groan of pain.

“Easy. Let me help.” If they were alone, she’d make an off-colored joke (something along the lines of “any excuse to get me undressed”), but she swallows it down and grits her teeth as the material tugs at her wound. She’s just going to have to toughen up and rip it off like a band-aide.

“I think there’s a water bottle somewhere, so we could soak-” Bracing herself, she gives the material a sharp tug, completely exposing herself. “-or you could just do it the hard way.”

“After all these years, why would I start doing things the easy way now?” She feels more than hears the short intake of breath that signals a laugh.

“Good point. Hold tight while I check the kit.” Taking advantage of the brief lull, she closes her eyes. She’s not exactly squeamish, but there’s something about seeing a bullet lodged in her shoulder that’s somewhat unsettling. “Alright. This is gonna sting, and then it’s gonna hurt like a son of a bitch.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” That one earns her an actual snicker.

Sure enough, it does sting. That is, if by “sting” you meant “feels like I scrubbed myself with a sandpaper washcloth and then rinsed off with vodka.” Still, she manages to keep still and wipe any expression of pain from her face as the disinfectant is poured on, completely soaking her.

“Sorry.” She shakes her head.

“Nothing a towel won’t take care of.”

He’s in front of her now, so she opens her eyes, concentrating hard on his face so she won’t look down.

“You alright?” It’s completely false, but she pastes on a smile.

“Splendid. Thinking of taking this up as a hobby, actually.” He frowns.

“You couldn’t just take up embroidery like a normal person?”

“No one-” Her breath catches as he starts to probe for the bullet. It was a distraction. “-takes up embroidery as a hobby anymore.” Deep breaths. She needs to take deep breaths.

“Shit.” Shit? That’s not comforting. “Do you want the good news first or the bad news?”

“Dealer’s choice.”

“Good news, it’s in one piece. Bad news-” He looks up, holding her gaze. “It’s lodged pretty far in there, Doll.” Of course it is. Just her luck. “Do you want to wait ‘til we get home, or-”

“Just do it.” Once more, she closes her eyes. “Sooner we get it out, sooner the super soldier mojo can do it’s thing.”

“You sure?” She nods.

“Just do me a favor. Don’t tell me when you start pulling it out. I don’t want to know.”

It’s silent, no one saying a word. Still, she clings to the little sounds she can make out in order to keep herself occupied. The engine running. The air filtration system. Her own jagged breaths and his measured ones. Despite her attempts at distraction, she can feel it the moment he starts easing the bullet out of her shoulder. On instinct her body seizes up, and she has to force herself to relax each muscle. It’ll only be more painful if she’s tense.

“Do you want something to squeeze? Maybe a hand to hold?”

Taking a slow, deep breath, she answers.

“That depends. How much do you like that arm?” If she takes out the pain on anything else, she’s almost certain she’d crush it.

“I’m sort of attached to it, so-” She chuckles, and that’s when the bullet slides free. “And, next time you make fun of my corny jokes, I get to remind you of this.”

The patching up process is simple from there. The bleeding is easily staunched and although it’s in an awkward place, they manage to bandage her without much trouble. She’s so nervous, she expects her hands to shake as she takes her turn and, with her good arm, digs the bullet out of Barnes (his is in fragments but luckily, a vision hits and shows her the shards’ locations), but surprisingly, her hands are steady. She glances up at his face just as she pulls the last shard out, but of course, he’s shut down, completely expressionless.

Finally, the quinjet touches down outside of what used to be the Avengers’ compound. Normally they would disembark, then head straight off to a debriefing, but under the circumstances, Sam calls it a night and tells them to get some rest, then come in tomorrow to go over mission reports. As they watch Falcon climb into his car and drive away, it hits her how terribly exhausted she really is. Between her bum shoulder and his bum leg, neither of them is really fit to drive home, so-

“Think we can get a cab this time of night?” Great minds think alike, it seems.

“I don’t know, but I’m willing to give it a try.”

It’s only once they’re home safely and she’s climbed into bed that she allows herself to wonder if they’re ever going to talk about today.

[ceealaina]

Title: Is This Love? Collaborator Name: ceealaina Card: TSB - 4008 IHB - 2007 Link: AO3 Square Filled: TSB A2 - Pining IHB G2 - Mutual Pining Ship: IronHusbands, Pre-SteveSam Rating: Teen Major Tags: Mutual Pining, Fluff and Humor Summary: 'Tony wasn’t looking at him though, or at the speaker. His gaze was fixed through the glass windows and into the hallway beyond where the military delegation had just arrived, among them Colonel Rhodes. “Oh my god,” Tony breathed, staring at him. “He’s so hot.”'

Steve's stuck in the world's longest debrief and, to make matters worse, he's stuck beside Tony who won't stop waxing poetic about his husband. Word Count: 1531

Steve fidgeted slightly, doing his best to at least pretend he was paying attention as the pencil pusher from SHIELD droned on, and on, and on. Normally their debriefs were, well, brief. Or at least as much as he could manage to make them; he’d learned from experience what happened if they ran too long. 

But this time some important government official or another had been in the group of near victims, and apparently he’d gotten a bit of a scare and now had some Thoughts on how the Avengers could work more efficiently. So following their regular debrief, there was a secondary SHIELD debrief, and then a military debrief, and then probably some other government debrief. Sitting through them was more lip service than anything, and Steve had been assured that nobody actually expected them to change anything, but despite his attempts at setting a good example, and for all that he gave Tony shit about debriefs being important, he couldn’t help feeling this was a giant waste of time. 

He was running over his to-do list in his head in an attempt to stay awake when Tony made a low whining noise beside him. Steve glanced over briefly, doing a quick scan for any visible injuries. He wasn’t even in the Iron Man suit anymore, and there were no signs of bleeding or breaks, but Tony was notoriously good at hiding injuries. Ignoring the speaker, Steve turned to face him. 

“Hey, you alright?” 

Tony wasn’t looking at him though, or at the speaker. His gaze was fixed through the glass windows and into the hallway beyond where the military delegation had just arrived, among them Colonel Rhodes. 

“Oh my god,” Tony breathed, staring at him. “He’s so hot.” 

It was through sheer force of will that Steve resisted the urge to smack himself in the face, focusing his gaze on the speaker again. “Jesus Christ, Tony.” 

“Are you looking at him?” Tony hissed, not even trying to pretend he wasn’t ogling Rhodes. “That uniform does things to me, Steve. And that ass?” 

“I hate you so much.” Steve regretted even asking. Next time he was just going to let Tony suffer, even if he did have hidden injuries. 

“He’s just so gorgeous, oh my god. Do you think he likes me?” 

Briefly forgetting they were in a meeting, Steve turned to stare at him incredulously. “Tony, he’s your husband.” 

Tony was smirking and gave Steve a wink. “I know,” he told him before he gaze slid back over to Colonel Rhodes and his expression softened. “I just want him so bad.” 

Steve rolled his eyes and turned to face front again, but apparently while he’d been distracted with Tony the SHIELD portion had finally come to an end because their speaker was packing up. A minute later Colonel Rhodes was entering the room, along with the other military officials. Tony reached out and clutched Steve’s arm like a teenage girl. 

“God, the way he walks,” he breathed, scooting his chair in closer when Steve tried to pull away. “He’s so commanding, gives me the fucking shivers.” He elbowed Steve. “I’d follow his orders, know what I mean?” 

“Tony!” Steve hissed.

“Oh please,” Tony whispered back. “I’ve seen the way you look at the non-hawk bird member of our team. Wait, are falcons a type of hawk too?” He shrugged, apparently deciding it didn’t matter. “Anyway, I know you know what I’m talking about.” 

Steve felt his cheeks heat when his gaze automatically moved over to Sam, only to find him watching them curiously with an amused look on his face. There was no way he could hear their conversation from the other end of the table, but it wouldn’t take super hearing to know that Tony was giving him a hard time about something. 

“You’re the worst,” Steve told Tony, fixing his eyes on the table before he turned bright red and gave the game away entirely. “I don’t know why I’m friends with you.” 

“Because my wealth is only matched by my charisma?” Tony offered before immediately getting distracted when Rhodey took the seat directly across the table from them. He grinned at Tony, giving him a wink, and Tony made a sound like he’d been punched in the gut, the fingers that he still had around Steve’s arms tightening even more. “Oh my god, he’s so hot.”

Tony tuned the meeting out entirely, instead spending the entire thing making soppy, lovestruck expressions at Rhodey. Apparently the colonel wasn’t actually speaking today, and Steve wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. On the one hand, he was pretty sure that Tony would have spontaneously exploded if Rhodes did something as ‘commanding’ as lead an entire meeting, so at least he didn’t have to deal with that. On the other hand, he did have to deal with Tony whining every time Rhodes would look at him, followed by a forlorn sigh when he’d look away again. That was on top of the way he’d constantly remind Steve of just how hot his husband was, how much he loved how capable he was, how turned on he was by the way the man talked or walked or breathed. 

He knew that Tony was partly doing it to drive him crazy, but also because he was just genuinely that in love with his husband. Steve would never tell him this, but it was actually really sweet. Not that that didn’t mean he wasn’t ready to set something on fire by the time they got out of there. 

Rhodey had slipped out first, talking with one of the other military guys, but he lingered and pulled away when Tony and Steve came through the door, moving to join them instead. “Hey, baby,” he hummed, not even hesitating to give Tony a soft kiss in front of everyone. “Nightmare of meeting,” he added, giving him a suspicious look. “On your best behaviour?” 

“Always,” Tony scoffed, like he hadn’t spent the entire time trying to drive Steve crazy. 

Rhodey caught a look at Steve’s expression. “Yeah, I bet,” he said, twining his fingers with Tony’s. “So I’ve got a couple things to finish up, but I should be home by seven.” 

“Barring any more end of the world scenarios, of course,” Tony pointed out.

“Of course,” he agreed. “Chinese for dinner? I’ve got the worst craving for that lo mein.” 

“From that place on 47th?” Tony asked, grinning at Rhodey’s enthusiastic nod. “You’ve got it, baby. I’ll have it ready and waiting for seven.” 

“Such a good little husband,” Rhodey teased, before their voices dropped as they wandered a little further down the hall, probably declaring their undying love a few more times for good measure. 

“Hey, you alright?” 

It was only the super reflexes that kept Steve from jumping when Sam suddenly spoke from beside him, and he was sure that the look he gave Sam was a little manic. He didn’t comment on it though, just gave Steve that same amused look. 

“You were looking a little frazzled during the meeting.” 

“Oh, yeah.” Steve gestured over to where Tony and Rhodey were still talking, giving each other heart eyes. “It was just, you know… Tony.” 

“I do know Tony,” Sam agreed. He paused a moment and then shrugged. “Anyway, I’m gonna go take a shower, have a beer. Maybe zone out in front of the TV for a couple hours.” He winked at Steve. “Catch you later, Cap.” 

Steve watched him go, giving Rhodey and Tony a wave as he passed them, and Steve felt something flutter in his stomach. Tony may have been a pain in the ass, but Steve wanted what he had with Rhodey, wanted that kind of relationship for himself. And, well, he was many things, but a coward wasn’t one of them. 

“Hey, Sam!” he called, jogging the few feet to catch up to him. He hesitated for an instant, acutely aware of Tony and Rhodey standing right there. “Uh… You wanna grab dinner later? You know, after your shower and beer?” 

It wasn’t that unordinary of a request; the two of them had grabbed dinner together any number of times before. But if the grin on Sam’s face was any indication, he knew what Steve was really asking. 

“Yeah, Steve,” he said, clapping him on the arm and holding his grip for a few beats longer than he normally would. “Sounds great. Pick me up around eight?” 

Steve could feel the blush creeping up the back of his neck as he watched him go, more from the fact that he could practically feel Tony and Rhodey staring at him than the interaction with Sam. He was expecting the teasing to start at any moment, but when he finally looked over, Tony was grinning at him. 

“Aw yeah, Cap,” he said, eyes twinkling. “Get it.” He leaned over to give Rhodey another quick kiss. “See you later, handsome,” he purred before following Sam’s path, giving Steve a proud smack on the back on his way by. 

“Oh my god,” Rhodey sighed as the two of them watched him head off down the hall. “He’s so hot.”

@tonystarkbingo @ironhusbandsbingo