#one day you guys will unfortunately find out

[succubusvalentine]

Part two of Simon Riley with a user who kidnaps herself. CW: Cunnilingus, Somnophilia, PiV, they're both a bit crazy, brief mention of blood (in a ring) part one here if you missed it!

Simon was currently stood over his bed. Staring at you. Under his covers.

You smelled so good too. Simon didn't want to get in bed and disrupt the scent of you with his own. He'd never forgive himself.

It was strange. Simon thought that if you found out he was stalking you, you would scream, call the cops, anything but this.

Maybe you were as crazy as he was. A thought that both terrified and excited Simon. Although the excitement definitely weighed out.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Simon merely watched you as days went by. He watched you eat, watch tv, sleep, bathe. And it didn't creep you out in the slightest.

You knew there was always an adjustment period when two people moved in together. So you let him watch you. He was like a wary cat. It was rather cute.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

"You can get in bed, you know" you hum tiredly one night. Opening your eyes and looking up at the behemoth of a man that would have terrified anyone else if they saw him watching them sleep.

"Don't want to make the bed smell like me when it smells like you"

"If you cuddle me you'd be close enough to smell me really good"

Simon stared. Brows furrowing in thought. Before he gives in.

Simon awkwardly slid into the bed next to you, tensing slightly when you grabbed his arms and wrapped them around your waist.

But as soon as Simon seemed to understand that he was touching you and you wanted him to keep touching you, he grabbed the backs of your thighs, pulling you flush against him with your legs around his thick waist so he could bury his face into your chest.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

After that, Simon could barely keep his hands off you. As soon he got home from base, he would find you somewhere in his home and wrap his arms around you. Refusing to let go for at least ten minutes.

He also gave you the best head you'd ever received. Definitely a bonus.

Every guy you'd been with before Simon, treated the act like a chore. Lazily licking you until raising their head and asking if you'd finished yet.

Simon though? He does it for his own pleasure.

Simon will find you wherever you're lazing about the house. Drop to his knees. And go to town.

Sucking on your clit until your legs shook, moving his head down to lick the wet slick coming from your hole. The first time he shoved his tongue in your hole to taste more of you? You nearly screamed as you came unexpectedly.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

And the way Simon fucks? You could barely think a coherent thought afterwards.

Sure, the first time you two fucked Simon came almost as soon as he thrust into you. But you couldn't blame him. He was fucking the woman he'd been stalking for over a year. He was bound to get overwhelmed.

Now though, Simon could fuck you for multiple rounds. There'd been times you had to call out of work because you either couldn't walk, or your body was so exhausted afterwards.

And after telling Simon it was okay to fuck you while you were asleep? He was even worse. The amount of times you woke up to Simon fucking into you while cuddling you and drooling into your shoulder was immense. But you loved it.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Simon's favourite part of you being his sweet little stalker, was that sometimes he would tell you he's going out. And then he would see you in the corner of his eye.

But Simon's favouritest part of his favourite part, was when he would go out with his team, and they'd point it out. Unfortunately it only happened a few times. The team getting used to seeing you watching Simon from afar. But whenever Simon noticed you, he got the stupidest smile on his face. Knowing he was definitely going to marry you. Propose to you with a ring where the gemstone was made of his own blood.

"tha' lass been followin' us bar tae bar all nigh'" Soap muttered. The rest of the team being concerned.

"Yeah" Simon grinned dumbly "she's the best ain't she?"

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Simon was just over the moon that you were just as obsessed with him as he was with you. And you moving into his home unannounced had to be the most romantic thing Simon had ever experienced in his life. You were perfect for him.

⛧°. ⋆𓌹♰𓌺⋆. °⛧

Tag list ~ @thefutureastronaut @illyanam1011 @likewhyareyousoobsessedwith-blog @hbaasaad @idknowwhattdowhitmylife @maybe-a-bi-witch @thatpersonnamedrook @miss-chanandler-bong @nicki-lovesolderfictionalmen @baduzzxy @skeletonsucker @drewsuncrustables @milanriol @aceywaycy @jooba @morallygrayboys @logansblackgf @dreamland08 @nicolebarnes @spacecola7 @teapartydreams @callsignao3 @garejuremuzum @laduenadelswing @xxkay15xx @simonsslut @princessbitchybucket @unclearblur @emily-roberts @nightreverie @huehuehuehuehehe @stayblinkarmyatinymoafearnot @wandabillywrites @mcira @klttn @ditzydoefx @vmaxis @keldeleine @persephone-kore-law @adrislibrary @arcvenes @thicksexxualtension @ltrileys @tbhiddlestan83 @lia-36 @happyficlibrary @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @hellshire-harlot @saturnspector @foo1ishs3renity @fishsinsareacknowledged @werebear-roams @cutedumbbunny @masterclassofescapism @lovelylocs @lady-of-death @fwoarmachine

guys I was even super nice and tagged a few reblogs that seemed super into this + made me giggle when reading. So so sorry if some of the tags didn't work/if I forgot someone. Feel free to scream at me in the comments if I did <3

just wanted to credit @feline-flame-fatale for the second last paragraph of this. Their comment was honestly perfect for this. Thank them in the comments RIGHT NOW.

[luvyeni]

ALL FOR YOU 𝕼. ( 이민형 )

𝓲𝓲 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒𓈒 ( 이민형 x fem!reader )   ─── ❛ genre ⸝⸝ smut. content warning. idol!mark x idol!reader, unprotected sex , oral ( f ) , little bit of jealousy word count. 2.5k 「 req? ⦂ yes/no 」 library  !

synopsis … you knew mark and you would eventually cross paths; being in the same company and all — but this , this was stressing you out.

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ this one i like , so good job to me …

you knew mark and you would eventually cross paths; being in the same company and all — but this , this was stressing you out…

“okay yn since you’re the youngest; you can pair up with jisung since he’s also the youngest.” you and the tall boy exchanged small awkward smiles. “aren’t they so cute together?” you heard yuna whisper to mark; you boy next to you clearly heard because he started to turn a deep shade of red — not cause he liked you, but because knew you were with mark.

you and mark met when you were still a trainee under sm. you’d accidentally walked into the wrong practice room, mark so happened to be in there… to say you were embarrassed was an understatement. he found it cute and endearing, watching you scramble to find the right words — but all you could manage was a small squeak.

from that day on; he tried to seek you out, finding you in the practice room, pretending to be confused. looking for you in the cafeteria where you sat with the other trainees and future group mates. he never said anything, no, he didn’t want to get you in trouble; but that didn’t stop him from looking; and falling for what he saw.

he knew what he was getting himself into when he asked you out; he was not only asking someone younger than him, but his junior at that — he was asking for trouble, but he couldn’t help it. he liked you so much and you liked him.

your debut was announced about a month after you and mark began to secretly date, he was so excited for you; that was also the first time you two had sex and it was mind blowing.

you both didn’t want anyone to found out about your relationship; but unfortunately haechan has the code to mark’s apartment and loves to show up announced sometimes — and after a awkward first meeting with haechan and you, and mark pinning him down to the floor to get him shut his mouth; he promised not to tell staff… but that didn’t stop him from telling the other dreamies.

you decided to not tell your members at all — which you are currently regretting. “mark is kinda cute don’t you think?” yuna sat next to you as you sat down for a quick break. “huh?” you said. “and he so obviously wants me, you see how low his hands went.” you followed her gaze to your boyfriend who was talking to your manager. “he wants me for sure, should i ask for his number?”

you were stunned; how do you answer that question? “um i don’t think that’s a good idea , we really aren’t supposed to be dating.” you said , how ironic. “besides he’s probably already in a relationship.” you said , hoping she’d drop it, the jealousy starting to boil inside your stomach. “so innocent yn , of course he doesn’t a guy as fine as he is , he’s probably fucking all around world he has no time to have a girl waiting for him.” she stood up ; walking away leaving you with a heavy heart and green with jealousy. “i have to use the bathroom.” you got up. “hurry back, we have to practice , this collab has to be perfect.” yuna said , nodded walking out the room.

more like slamming the door behind you in marks eyes. “what’s wrong with her?” haechan asked. “did you two fight?” the elder shook his head; in fact he just talked to you before you guys met up and you seemed excited to be working with him and his group. “her and member seemed to be having a conversation before she stormed out , maybe they’re having a argument.” jaemin said. “should i go after her?” mark asked; normally he wouldn’t ask a question like that, he’d just go, but there were a bunch of staff and cameras around he didn’t want anyone catching on. “duh , go.” chenle said. “we’ll make sure no one finds out anything.”

he nodded , standing up walking out the door. “hey mark.” yuna batted her eyelashes at the boy. “hi.” was all he said before leaving out to find you.

why were you even mad? you could’ve told her and ended it there. you just didn’t want to jeopardize your careers and ruin your groups reputation, you were still in your early parts of your career. “get it together, you’re a professional.” you said to yourself before walking out of the bathroom , only to be pushed back in.

“mark what the hell?” you shrieked. “did anyone see you?” you questioned. “what’s wrong?” mark said , looking into your eyes; his filled with worry. “nothing im fine.” you tried to walk out but he grabbed your wrist. “mark.” you frowned. “tell me what’s wrong , the way you slammed that door.” he said. “did you and your member have a fight?” he asked. “no.” you trailed off. “then what is it?”

“its stupid.” you whispered , eyes to the floor. “hey.” he grabbed your chin, lifting your head up. “nothing you feel is stupid to me.” his hand covered your cheek, caressing it softly. “so tell me what’s wrong baby.” you sighed before speaking up. “it’s yuna , she likes you.” you said. “she wants to ask for your number.”

he didn’t want to laugh, but the cute pout on your lips as you spoke, he couldn’t help but chuckle. “are you laughing at me?” you asked. “i told you it was stupid , let me go.” you pulled away from him , but he grabbed you , pulling you close to wrap his arms around you. “you’re just too cute baby , so jealous and so cute.” he said. “it’s not funny , i told her you probably have a girlfriend and you know what she said.” he smiled listening to you ramble. “she said there’s no way a guy as fine as you are isn’t fucking all around the world.”

“she said that?” he said; of course that wasn’t true. “yeah , can you believe it.” you said. “and i guess she wants to be next.” you pouted, slapping his arm. “don’t say it like it could be a possibility mark.” he winced , rubbing the spot. “baby you know it’s not a possibility, not even a 0.01% chance i would do that,” he said. “you sure?” he giggled, kissing your pouty lips. “100%.” you smiled. “now stop pouting and let’s get back to the practice room before they start to question our whereabouts.”

“wanna stay here with you.” you said , he smiled. “come over tonight , and you’ll have me all to yourself yeah?” he had you pinned against the sink. “you’d like that?” you bit your lip nodding. “yeah.” he was about to pull you into a kiss — when you both got a ping on your phones. he groaned , pulling away from you. “we have to go.” you said. “why now when im so hard,” he said. “just 5 more minutes.” your phones going off again. “i don’t think we can.” you said. “let’s go before they send a search party.”

you made your return first; coming up with a excuse to tell your leader; luckily she didn’t question it. “just get in line and get ready.” you nodded , standing next to jisung. “happy now?” he smirked , you rolled your eyes , pushing him. “look who’s back.” mark made his way back inside the room. “there were people at the vending machine,” he said. “at the vending machines and yet not a single snack or anything.” haechan said. “i ate it on the way back.” he gritted through his teeth , silently threatening the boy. “okay , okay let’s get back to practice.” the choreographer said ; mark giving you a quick glance and a wink making you smile as the music started.

“good job everybody.” the choreographer said; mark watched you begin to pack up. “here.” someone shoved a piece of paper in his face. “uh.” he looked up, yuna staring him in the face. “it’s my number.” she said. “oh , i don’t think — yuna lets go.” your leader called out for the girl. “here.” she dropped it in his hand making her way out ; you watched the whole thing. “yn.” he called out. “bye.” you gave him a tight lipped smile as you made your way out. “she’s jealous.” jeno said. “yeah no shit.” he tossed the paper in the trash.

“baby please talk to me.” you sat on his bed later that night , arms folded stubbornly against your chest. “you know what she did as soon as we got back to the dorms?” you said. “she went on and on how you couldn’t keep your eyes off of her boobs , how you were definitely into her and you taking her number solidified that.” you spat out , he laid against the headboard , his hand coming up to your thigh. “baby i told you i wasn’t , i threw the number away.” he whined. “and i wasn’t looking at her boobs , i was looking past her , looking at your boobs.”

“now isn’t the time for jokes mark.” you said flatly , trying to hold back a smile. “but it got you to smile.” he pulled you back against a smile. “mark.” he kissed behind your ear. “i don’t want anyone else but you.” he whispered, knowing what it did to you. “you’re so cute when you’re jealous , huffing and puffing.” he said , hands traveling down to your side. “makes me so hard.” he turned your head around, pulling you into a heated kiss.

he slipped his tongue inside your mouth , both of you moaning into the kiss , he flipped you over so he was on top. “so fucking pretty.” he dipped inside your neck. “you don’t know what you do to me , how much i wanted to pull you away from jisung.” he groaned. “his hands were too low on you.” he growled. “se-seems like you were jealous too.” you whimpered , he bit down on your neck. “fuck mark don’t leave any marks.” he licked the spot on your neck. “fuck of course i was jealous baby , i wanted to dance with you , not her.” he gripped your waist tightly. “all i could think about is you while dancing.”

he kissed down the valley of your breast. “the way you looked.” *kiss* “the way you talked.” *kiss* “the way you smelled.” he gave you one final kiss. “fuck and the way you taste.” he pulled your leggings down your legs , spreading them open. “ma-mark i need you.” you desperately mewled. “yeah?” he smirked. “need me to lick your pretty pussy.” he kissed your clothed cunt. “mhm pl-please.” he pulled your panties to the side; his cock twitching in his sweats. “look how wet you are.” he groaned. “all this for me baby?” you nodded , he gave your clit another kiss. “mhm fuck , you taste so good.” he dove into your heat , passionately licking your folds. “ma-mark , fuck that feels good.”

he hummed against your heat , holding your legs apart as he feverishly licked your folds. “fuck , fuck keep going.” your hand tangled up into his hair as your hips bucked up involuntarily. “fuck mark im gonna cum.” he replaced his mouth with his fingers , pushed two inside. “you’re so wet , gonna cum for me?” you nodded , the knot in your belly getting tighter. “cum for me then , be a good girl and cum for me.” you gasped out , the knot finally snapping as you came all over her fingers. “good fucking girl.” his voice filled with lust. “made such a mess on my fingers.”

he pushed his fingers into his mouth, moaning at the taste of you on his tongue. “so sweet.” he said. “like fucking candy baby.” he untied the string to his sweats , pulling them down just enough to free his fully erected cock. “look how hard i am for you.” he pressed his tip against your hole. “only get like this for you.” he slowly slid inside you. “fuck mark , so-so big.” you moaned , he grunted. “sh-shit baby you’re so tight.” his cock slowly filling you up , his cock kissing your cervix. “love this pussy so much.”

he pulled out , stopping at the tip; pushing himself all the way in. “so so much.” he groaned. “mark faster.” you moaned. “faster?” he said , speeding up. “yes like that.” your fingers running through his hair. “no need to be jealous baby , it’s all for you.” he groaned. “all mines.” he groaned as you tugged at his hair. “it’s yours.” he whispered in your ear. “so take what’s yours baby.”

he pulled out of you; laying back letting you climb into his lap. “ride me baby , ride your cock.” he groaned as you held the base of his cock , sinking down on him. “fuck mark.” he watched in awe as you rode him; bouncing up and down on his length. “fuck that feels good princess , ride me , ride it like you own me.” he held your waist as you worked his cock. “fuck baby im about to cum.” he moaned out. “no-not yet , almost there.” you stuttered , legs faltering. “fuck , fuck mark im about to cum.”

he held your hips , bucking up into your needy cunt. “fuck baby cum.” he groaned. “cum.” both of you moaning out as you came at the same time , your head dropping in between his neck. “b-baby don’t leave any marks , my manager will kill me.” he sighed , loving the feeling on his lips … okay maybe he can’t take the scolding.

“what were you thinking , the makeup artist is gonna kill you if that isn’t gone by the performance.” you heard his manager scolding him as your group walked into the practice room. “next time at least put it somewhere no one can see.” the older man shook his head in disappointment. “so irresponsible.” you chuckled , covering your smile. he looked at you frowning. “guess he had too good of a time last night.” your other member said. “guess yuna was wrong.” you looked at yuna who looked upset upon seeing the mark on his neck. “let’s just get this over with.” she said stomping away; your other member was chuckling. “don’t worry she’ll get over it , if not oh well.” she said. “and don’t you laughed too much.” she turned to you. “what are you talking about?”

she rolled her eyes. “you think im dumb , if you aren’t careful you’ll be getting a scolding just like he is.” she said. “at least he’s smart enough to put it somewhere no one can see.” she walked away leaving you stunned; mark looking at you curiously. “what?” he mouthed , you pointed to your member. “she knows.” you mouthed back, he shrugged. “tell them all.”

guess it’s time to tell your members the truth.

©️LUVYENI

[g4rvez-r3id]

I Love You, I’m Sorry

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Synopsis: You left the BAU and your boyfriend, Spencer, after a case took a hefty toll on you. You only left behind a letter, explaining yourself and why you had to leave. Four years later, you find yourself back in DC on a whim. You learn that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea.

Category: Angst

Warnings: NO HAPPY ENDING, mentions of a past case, mentions of trauma, case related things, reader getting kidnapped but only mentioned, reader lowkey being stalker-y, arguing, mentions of 2x15 “Revelations” but it’s brief, takes place in Season 9 but this is with the Season 7 team, angst angst angst

It’d been four years since he last saw you. You’d left the BAU after a particular case took a massive toll on you and you’d decided the best thing to do at the time was leave.

It was a case in your hometown, no less — the team had no leads and all they had to go off were three bodies tattooed with some kind of weird symbol on their bodies. Before joining the BAU, you were in the taskforce and you’d dealt with something similar. The victims had all been women and the symbol was some kind of branding initiation. You never caught the guy.

And when the team finally got a lead, you and Morgan were sent to check the place out. Unfortunately, it ended with Morgan being knocked out cold and you being kidnapped.

It took the team four days to find you. You were tortured, slashes on your body and the amount of mental trauma you endured during that time was disturbing. He managed to gather most of your team’s belongings and present them in blood as if it were proof that they were dead. You were led to believe that your team was dead for four days.

But by the fourth day, they realized that their unsub was someone who worked for the PD and luckily, they cracked it down and found you. You almost believed that they weren’t real, that everyone was a figment of your imagination. It took Spencer approaching you and actually touching you for you to realize that this was real. That your team was still alive.

And the case took a toll on you. Even after you passed your psych evals and came back to the BAU, you were still flinching at anyone touching you. And unfortunately, it just became too much in the end that you left.

The only person you explained yourself to was Spencer. You left behind a letter for him, I know, not great thinking on your part considering that’s how Gideon and his father left him. But you knew if you talked to him face to face, he would’ve talked you into staying. He was your boyfriend, he always had a way with words that no one else did. And you knew he’d try and get you to stay because this was where you belonged. But you felt totally alone. Even though the team was there for you, you still felt alone.

Four years have passed since you left. And as expected, the only person that found you was the BAU’s very own Penelope Garcia. You only allowed her to tell the team that you were okay and that you were safe but not to tell them where you were. For the last four years, you thought about the team every day.

So what exactly pursued you to come back all of a sudden? Call it homesickness, say it was only because you missed everyone dearly and started thinking about them a lot more recently. Or maybe it was because you only missed Spencer. That’s why you were standing outside of his apartment unit, right?

You were outside, staring at the tall building and you had no idea what brought you here but you were here. It was like you woke up and all of a sudden, you were here. You had no idea what brought you here. But you walked out that door and your feet took you here.

Spencer had been invading your mind as of recently. You had no idea why but it probably had to do with the fact that his birthday was recently. His thirty-second birthday. You wondered what he did, you wondered how he spent his birthday. Did he spend it with the team? Did he spend it with his mom? You wondered if showing up was a mistake. Maybe it was.

Spencer, on the other hand, was carrying about his night in his apartment. It had been one of those nights where he couldn’t sleep, so he’d started the day off at 3am. Probably not the smartest idea because he’d be tired by the end of the day, but at least there was coffee.

He’d turned on the coffee machine and got his crossword of the day ready at the kitchen table. He’d decided to bring some light in by walking towards the curtains and opening them. Granted, there wasn’t going to be a lot of light, but it would’ve helped. Plus, something told him to just open the curtains, so he did.

When he opened the curtain, he usually has a good look at the front of his building. Who’s coming, who’s going, what’s going on. And when he looks down, he sees something odd. Something that makes him question if he’s hallucinating. Have the schizophrenic symptoms finally taken over? Because there’s no way he’s seeing you, right here and right now.

And you’re staring right back at him. In the flesh. And you’re not a figment of his imagination, you can’t be. There were times after you left, where he thought about you and that other women he’d passed by were you. But this wasn’t like those other times. This was different.

Spencer was quick to scramble out of his apartment, almost toppling over his own feet as he struggles to get his slippers on and quickly rushes out of his apartment, down the stairs and towards the entrance of the building. Mind racing with questions and wanting answers as opens the door and blinks as he looks around for you. Because now you’ve disappeared.

Spencer looks around. You couldn’t have gotten far. He even opts to call out your name to the gods. There was no way you were figment of his imagination. You couldn’t have been. You were staring back at him. He’d almost forgotten what you looked like. And he doesn’t forget anything.

You’d managed to escape right when you saw him back away from his window and grabbed a taxi and ordered the driver to take you anywhere but here. You looked behind you and saw Spencer was in the middle of the street, wondering where you disappeared off to.

You had to leave. It was the only option you needed to take. You ended up getting a hotel early that morning. You still had no idea what you were doing here in DC. And it didn’t do you any good with Spencer seeing you. You hated to think it but you’d hoped that he thought that maybe you were just a figment of his imagination. You didn’t want him to go and ask Garcia where you were since she was the only person that knew. And you knew she’d give in because she wasn’t that great at keeping secrets.

Since you opted for staying for a few days, you had to be incognito. And that meant avoiding Spencer at all cost. That didn’t help when all the places you used to go to, you introduced him to.

You thought you were safe going to your local coffee shop this morning, but you walked in right when he was getting his order and you were quick to hide behind a very tall, burly man and rush out of the coffee shop.

Unfortunately, to your luck, Spencer saw you. Or at least thought maybe he did. He’d spotted you the minute you hid behind that burly man and then when you practically ran out of the coffee shop.

He definitely wasn’t imagining you now. He’d seen as you ran far away from the shop and called your name, probably looking like a total lunatic as he yelled your name across the street. You were most definitely caught now. Your jig was up. You should’ve expected this to happen.

Penelope 💕: You’re in town?

Sent 12:34pm

Penelope💕: And don’t even try and lie, Spencer blew your cover.

Sent 12:34pm

Penelope💕: Also, he tried bribing me with a croissant to figure out where you are. I can only hold on for so long!

Sent 12:35pm

Penelope managed to spam your cell phone when you got back to the hotel after your harrowing escape. You decided to send a quick reply with a sigh falling from your lips.

You: Please please PLEASE don’t tell him where I am.

Sent 12:37pm

Penelope💕: Okay, fine. But under one condition.

Sent 12:38pm

You: Which is?

Sent 12:38pm

Penelope💕: Come out with us to O’Keefe’s tonight! It’ll be lowkey, everyone on the team will be there! And you get to straighten this whole thing out because even JJ is asking questions now!

Sent 12:39pm

Your biggest thing was that you didn’t want anyone knowing you were here. You don’t even know what sparked you even showing up in the first place. What were you going to tell them if they’d asked why you were here? There were so many questions you wanted to avoid. Because you’d just left without a trace.

You: Oh, Penny. I don’t know… :/

Sent 12:40pm

Penelope💕: Oh, just consider it! It could be fun for you!

Easy for you to say, Penelope. But she had a point. Maybe it could be fun, seeing the team again. Morgan, Rossi, Spencer. Then again, you almost wanted to avoid him because of how you left him. Was he the only thing holding you back from going tonight? Not to mention, did anyone else know exactly how you left him? They could’ve hated you just as much as you knew he hated you. Your phone dings again.

Penelope💕: I know your gears are turning but trust me, everyone really wants to see you again! Emily was literally talking about you the other day. Please! With sugar on top!

Sent 12:43pm

Okay, that made you feel a little bit better. You did miss them. Maybe Penelope would be the one to help you with your decision.

You: Fine, I’ll make an appearance. But only for an hour!

Sent 12:45pm

Penelope💕: YESSSSS 🥳 I’ll send you deets after work! 😊

Sent 12:45pm

Your plan to avoid Spencer backfired on you, oh, so greatly. Maybe you still could avoid him. Maybe he decided not to go to O’Keefe’s once he found out you were gonna be there.

He never liked the bar scene anyways. He hardly drank since what happened with Tobias Hankel. You prayed for the slight chance that he wouldn’t come drinking with the team. And you even hoped Garcia may have been so excited to tell Spencer that you were coming, she’d blurt it out to him and maybe he wouldn’t go. You hoped you were right.

I hate this already, I hate this already, I hate this already. You thought in your head as you walked to O’Keefe’s. It’s been a while since you’ve been in this area. Your mind is built with memories of walking these same streets with Spencer, arm in arm as he rambled about just about anything. Your heart broke in two as you thought about those times, so simple and delicate before they got ruined. By you.

You walked towards the bar and entered the building, scouting out to look for the team until a chippy voice shouted your name. “Y/N!” Your eyes trailed over to the bubbly blonde, “Over here!” She waves her arm over and you walk over pretty slowly as you join them.

“Well, as I live and breathe!” Morgan stands from his seat, welcoming you with a hug. “It’s good to see you.” You muffle into his shirt that it’s good to see him too and by then everyone pretty much follows with a hug and Rossi kisses both of your cheeks in welcoming. Everyone seems happy to see you. Everyone except Spencer, who keeps sipping his drink and looking anywhere but you like you don’t even exist. And he has the right to that. But he’s not gonna ruin this, tonight.

The night consists of everyone asking you how you’ve been and what you’ve been up to. And not that Spencer cares but he overhears as you mention you work at a desk job in California — the place he knows you’ve always wanted to live — and that you recently got a new cat and that you don’t have a boyfriend. Again, not that he cares.

And then he catches onto something you say. About how you were sorry you left the team so abruptly. And Spencer scoffs under his breath as he spoke — “Least you’re explaining yourself in person now, right?”

Spencer met your eyes and everyone sat there awkwardly after the fact. You knew what that was. A diss at how you left him. You knew how he was. He got petty. And when he got petty, he got mean. It didn’t help that he’d been nursing his drink a bit, too.

Garcia had distracted everyone, asking to join her on the dance floor, to which Morgan, JJ, Emily and even you obliged. Spencer had declined, deciding to stay at your table and Rossi and Hotch went over to the bar to get more drinks for everyone.

Spencer’s jaw clenched as he watched you dance with the rest of his team. How can they act like you didn’t just up and leave them three years ago? Like everything was fine again? How could they just sit there and laugh with you when you broke their hearts when you left? He didn’t forget how Garcia cried for weeks, or how frustrated Morgan was when he found out, or how Emily kept turning over to your empty desk to tell you something but forgot you weren’t there and how heartbroken you left him when he read your letter over and over again.

I can’t stay here anymore. I love you. I’m sorry. He could see your handwriting in the back of his mind. The wires in his head crossing as he wrapped his head around the fact that you were here. I can’t stay here anymore. I love you. I’m sorry. He told you that you two were gonna be fine, you were going to get through this together. I can’t stay here. I love you. I’m sorry. But you left. You left and you didn’t turn back. How could you leave him like that? The same way his dad did, the same way Gideon did. I can’t stay here anymore. I love you. I’m sorry.

Finding himself growing frustrated, Spencer decides to leave. He can’t stay here. Not while you’re here, not while the team can act like they’re happy to see you. He’s infuriated. And he needs to go.

He slams a twenty down at the table and lets Hotch and Rossi know he’s leaving. They don’t even attempt to get him to say, exchanging a knowing glance at the fact it was because you were here but he wasn’t going to pay any attention to that. He heads for the door but he doesn’t realize he’s had an audience this whole time.

You were watching him. You couldn’t help it. You hated the way he glared at you. It pained you that you caused this. You were the reason he hated you. So, when you saw him leave, you decided that maybe you needed to talk, one on one without anyone else present.

You excused yourself to everyone, saying you going to get some water and that you’d be right back and exited the building, seeing as Spencer was about eight feet ahead of you and calling his name. “Spencer!”

Spencer scoffs, turning around as you fiddle your hands together, approaching him. You did that when you were nervous. “Can we talk, please?” Spencer turns back around and continues walking. “I don’t think we have anything to talk about.”

“Yes, we do. And you know it.” You say as you catch up to him even if he continues walking away from you. “Spencer, I know you hate the way I left. And trust me, I did, too but you can’t blame me forever.”

“Well, I have,” Spencer turns around and faces you. “You left, or did you forget that? Because I sure as hell didn’t.”

“Spencer—”

“You left. You wrote a letter to me, just like my dad and just like Gideon because you were a coward and couldn’t face me. We could’ve worked it out, we could’ve talked about it, Y/n!”

“I couldn’t talk to you about it!” And now here you were, shouting at him, this was the last thing you wanted when you decided to come here tonight.

“Why not?”

“Because I know you’d talk me out of leaving!” You take a deep breath. “And I didn’t want that. I needed not to be persuaded by you, I needed to think about this. And I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t. And I hated that I did that to you, it haunts me every single day.” Your voice wavered when you said the last sentence. “Not a day went by that I didn’t think about you. You have to know that I’m sorry.” You go to touch him but he’s quick to back away from you.

“Oh, and you’re making amends now?” Spencer questioned. “You’re just acting like what you didn’t matter? Well, it mattered to me, Y/n. You left and you didn’t care!”

“I did.” You argued.

“No, you didn’t. ‘I can’t do this anymore’? ‘I love you, I’m sorry’?” You furrow your brows at this. And all he can think is — how can you not remember the most painful words you’d ever written to him? “You wrote that to me in your letter. Your letter that you left behind to me, along with your badge and gun. You can’t just slam this door closed and pretend like you’re not at fault when you’re completely at fault. You hurt me, in the only way a person could. How could you do that?”

“I know, I know!” You tell him, shutting your eyes as you pull your hair back away from your face. “I shouldn’t have left you like that. But I couldn’t be there anymore. I wasn’t the same girl that you fell in love with. And you deserved better.”

“I deserved better than that.” Spencer retorted and you nod with a sniffle, “Yeah, yeah, you did.” You admit defeat, wiping your nose.

You walk closer to him as he stares at the ground. “And I’m so sorry,” You tell him. He still avoids your eyes, opting for the ground until he feels your hand on his cheek and you force him to meet his eyes. “And I’m telling the truth. I thought about you everyday. And I love you, I could never lie about that. Ever.”

Spencer looks into your eyes and you can’t make what’s in them. Anger? Sadness? Regret? All of the above? “Why did you come back?” The question lingers above your head and you try to come up with a valid reason in your head. But you can’t come with anything. Why did you come back? You could’ve left this alone, you could’ve moved on because that was the way life went. You could go on, forget anything happened. Was it some form of a guilty conscience for leaving him? Was it closure? Did you need to move on? Did you need Spencer to move on before you could? “I don’t know.” You answer.

“That’s not an answer.” Spencer tells you and you back away from with a scoff, “Well, then what do you want to hear, Spencer? I don’t know why I’m here. I just know that I am now.”

“Why? Did you expect to get back together or something? That maybe I’d just forget what happened and leave it behind in the past like nothing did?” It was obvious he couldn’t forget it.

“No, I-I didn’t expect that, at all—!”

“Then, why?”

“I don’t… know.” Maybe you did know why. Maybe you still loved him. But you couldn’t. Not in this way at least.

“You can’t just stumble your way back into my life simply because — what? You’re lonely, all of a sudden? Is that it?”

You’d had enough. This was pointless when all he was doing was arguing with you and making you feel even worse than you already did. You shake your head — “I don’t have to listen to this.”

“Maybe you need to,” He argued. “Y/n, you were cruel to me. And somehow, you were also the best thing that happened to me. I loved you, did you know that? I tried moving on, I tried — but that didn’t even work out.” It makes you wonder why. But it’s not your business. “When I saw you again, all I could think about was how you left. And how much it hurt when you did. And you’re back now and now I’m more confused than ever. I hate you for coming back. But… I… I can’t even wrap my head around this. I can’t… I can’t be around you. I need to go.”

Spencer shakes his head and begins to walk away. You watch as he does so but not before you tell him — “I knew,” You say and he stops in his tracks. “And for the record, I loved you, too.”

Spencer stands still for a moment before he continues walking. And he turns his back on you, just like you did him years ago. There was time where he would’ve spun around and forgave you and held you and kissed you until you needed a breather but that time was long gone. Because now, he couldn’t even stand to be around you. You watched as he walked away from you and you know you deserve that.

You two were on different paths and maybe that’s the way it had to be. You’d book a flight back home when you got back to your hotel tonight. Because he was right, you couldn’t stumble back into his life, begging for forgiveness when you left him the way you did. That was the way life went, you move on.

And you supposed you should start doing that now. Since Spencer was on his way to doing so, already.

[iratempestatis]

Saw you asking for Xiao requests and thought I could send some!

This might be a little odd one, but... A self-aware Xiao finding out that he has fans like us who love him kinda romantically? It could be fun!

Xiao Waxes Poetic About Fandom

Xiao x gn!reader, 1.5k words. Anon I'm so sorry but I had actually no idea how to write this adgvhfcdcb. I tried my best but I kept giggling about lost 50/50s and and my 80 cr Xiao never critting without Motivation (crit food). I actually considered making hcs instead but I kept writing drabbles instead. Then I tried to write a fic, but kept writing... hcs... Perhaps if inspiration strikes me I'll revisit this idea someday, but! For now, allow me to present you with what feels like a raccoon in a tiara and a feather duster dress-

If Xiao could control player summons, he’d be yours already.

Unfortunately, he cannot- ergo you’ve made a hundred and forty pulls with not a Xiao in sight.

You've never hated Diluc more in your life, he can tell. Poor Diluc.

There are twenty minutes left for his banner to disappear for Devs know how long. He knows your luck is decidedly not his fault, but feels guilty nonetheless. What if he’s treated the same as Ganyu? Or, Devs forbid, Eula? 

You really did look forward to getting him, building him. He was so startled by your devotion- seated on that banner, he could see you anxiously open your inventory, check if you had enough primogems. You pre-farmed for him. You made silly little rituals for him(he winced when they failed). It was absurd. He was a high investment hyper carry. Why bother?

But you pulled Furina, and you pulled Faruzan. You don't have Xianyun (yet, he thinks, in both awe and alarm as he sees her ascension and talent materials in your inventory.)

He cannot fathom it. 

Perhaps you wanted Xianyun for herself- but then you also have Faruzan with all of her constellations lit up. And you also have Furina- and god, nevermind, you really did want him. The set you intend to put on Xianyun is the Song of Days Past. Four piece. With energy recharge substats.

You’re so close. Seventy. You get Layla. He echoes you when he mutters “but you’re not even on the banner!”

Twenty minutes left. You caress the screen. (That's a bit much.) Your brows are pinched together, lower lip worried by your teeth.

“I might have to break my free to play status,” you whisper.

It's not worth it! He wants to scream. Don't do it!

You bite your lip again as you find a chest. Primogem count: 159.

Oh dear.

“It’s fine,” you whisper. “It’s fine. This is fine.”

Xiao wishes he could make you go to bed somehow. You’ve been awake for hours. It’s fine even if you don’t pull him now, he returns like clockwork every lantern rite- hm? What are you pulling your Tighnari out for?

He knows you never really bothered to build him prior, purely because farming those fungi was a pain. He watches as you make Yelan rush up to the cliffs of the very Chasm before switching to Tighnari. When he realises what you’re doing, he buries his face in his palms. Your party members groan. Xiao wonders if you’re serious- you want to hit a bird in flight? With your aim?

“FOOL!” Faruzan shrieks. “Attack the ruin guard at Stormbearer instead! That achievement is much easier to get- Hat Guy, do something-“

“Too late.” He smacks his forehead with the back of his hand. “It’s started.”

Shing! Nothing Special, Just Practice.

What-?

You whoop, then cough and fall silent, anxiously peeking out of your room. Your fingers shake with trepidation as they land on the screen.

Wish x1.

Xiao feels a familiar tug as he hurtles through the air.

✦—————————————✦

Much to his immense surprise, this is an incredibly familiar story. Every time his banner rolls around there’s people that want him- spend for him, run amok collecting primogems for him. Farming for him. Giving him increasingly prettier and stronger polearms. Thrusting the Staff of Homa in his hands (sorry, Hu Tao).

He’s always a bit baffled, unless the person is someone already inclined to spend. He’s not a good choice for anyone’s account. He’s incredibly unflexible. A bit niche even. He doesn’t even do what his element is meant for.

Yet somehow you seem to enjoy running around with him. Making him special little layouts in the teapot. Insisting he collects your rewards every time. Making him speak to Katheryne every day (it’s so awkward every time, and she keeps laughing when your back is turned).

He remembers doing the Chasm quest with you. When it had begun, you were nothing short of gleeful, which brought him only anguish- he knew in part what had transpired and what was about to- and he knew you’d only be heartbroken by the end of this story.

And you were. You somehow managed to contain yourself till the very end- refusing to move to have even a sip of water until the quest concluded. You were patient- absorbing every every dialogue, every inch of text you could get your hands on.

To be loved is to be known, he thinks amusedly as you sniffle at the conclusion, then immediately open the wiki to confirm some tiny wretched detail. He can’t help but smile to himself a little as you angrily mutter profanities at the advertisements jumping out at you.

✦—————————————✦

“Is she SERIOUS.”

Xiao exhales softly as the Wanderer paces around the teapot. He hasn’t shut up since you logged in- because as soon as you finished your dailies, you occupied yourself straight away with painstakingly modifying the teapot (and crying over changes you accidentally forgot to save), all to welcome home the newest limited anemo five star. He’s been furious since he heard of her and ergo his potentially impending powercreep, much to the amusement of literally everyone besides Barbara, who feels sorry for him and Qiqi, who keeps forgetting who he even is. Xiao wishes he could tell you- he’s sure you’d laugh to no end, but even if he could you probably wouldn’t hear him right now since you’re currently occupied with one of your wretched rituals. This one involves Chongyun and- OH dear, no-

Furina grits her teeth as the glacial greatsword slams into the ground, straight through her neck. Chongyun looks like he really wishes the teapot had a bathroom. Xiao sighs.

Tiny fingers tug on his sleeve. Xiao blinks and turns around to face Sayu, her face puffy, her eyes crusty and glued shut. Eugh. Children really are something sometimes. Xiao considers wiping at her face with his sleeve, but… no. The Wanderer barks a laugh.

“What’s going on?” Sayu yawns. “Who are we pulling for?”

“Chasca,” Xiao says as the Wanderer hisses like a cat. “I wonder if she’ll need Faruzan too?”

They turn to Faruzan, sprawled like a corpse across the grass. You need to touch some too, Xiao thinks. You’ve wasted nearly an hour on the game today, and today has barely begun. He suspects you just like the thrill of gacha and are desperate for a five star. Weren’t you saving up for Xianyun? No matter.

Xiao knows you’ll never stop using him. You love him too dearly and sunk cost fallacy has effectively reeled you in, stored you away in a grimy little box. You’ve invested too much into Xiao to cast him aside now. But the Wanderer…

Barbara trots out the house just as the sky darkens, a cloudy depression opening up in the heavens. The Wanderer finally stops ranting, something about loyalty and actually amusing gameplay. Barbara puts the Tome of Eternal Flow away with a gasp upon noticing the giant HOLE in the sky (how did she just notice? Why is she gasping at the wishing screen when you open it thrice a day?) and gently nudges Faruzan out of her dysania to welcome home the newest anemo dps. Faruzan sniffles. Poor woman. It can’t be easy, dealing with him and the (thankfully, now quiet) ex Fatuus.

You pull. Xiao doesn’t bother holding his breath. It might as well be Bennett pulling, really because recently you’ve been getting exactly nothing of value. Another Faruzan, a Gorou for some godforsaken reason, four rainslashers, and so forth.

“Perhaps you’ll avoid your fourth betrayal,” Xiao muses. The Wanderer shoots him a startled glare, then laughs.

“Perhaps. You’re lucky, twink- NO!”

“Chasca, Flower-Feather Clan. Any disputes you need me to end for you? Depending on the situation, it could cost you a little di-“

✦—————————————✦

All things considered, it’s been a strange few years for Xiao. Since the game’s inception, he’s known he would be consigned to a solitary fate. He’s not a straightforward person, or particularly honest. He’s troublesome to play and troublesome to speak with. His chronicles are drenched in blood and anguish, quietly nestled away in softly murmured dialogue, artifact descriptions and optional adventures. Whatever love he was once showered with had long since washed away by the years that came after. And yet...

People continued to bother reaching past his exterior, reaching about with tender fingers. Wanting to know. Wanting to learn. They spoke of him. They took soft little bunches of their finite time and spun it into stories of him, art of him, words and adoration whispered and passed among one another in the communities they formed- that came together all because of their love for him.

It never failed to astonish him, fill him with gratitude so copious it was difficult to contain at times. It always drove him a bit insane- people loved him enough to painstakingly learn about him, strengthen him. That he was significant enough to sow the seeds of friendship formed by the common love felt for him.

Thinking about it makes him feel a bit silly. He’s just a character. He wonders if the others think about this as well (not Qiqi for sure) but he’s glad to have brought people someone real comfort after his fictional atrocities. Mortals… humans. He snorts a bit. He’ll try a bit harder to crit for you tomorrow.

[goldenseresinretriever]

False Confidence: Chapter 15

Pairing: Javy “Coyote” Machado x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: The Athletic named Javy Machado the fifth sluttiest player in the NHL last year. He’s a known playboy who leaves every game with a different girl. As far as he’s concerned he’s living the dream, playing his dream job with the dream lifestyle. Unfortunately his friends and bosses don’t agree. At 33, they think it’s time for him to settle down. You’re a kindergarten teacher at an esteemed private school. You don't expect much when you finally accept your colleague’s invitation to attend her husband’s hockey game but when you accidentally get separated in the post-game rush, you find yourself in a compromising situation with the last person you’d ever expected to meet. When his PR rep suggests a mutually beneficial agreement, your hands are tied. How long will you have to keep up the act? And how long will you be able to?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, angst, fluff, fake relationship, suggestive language, anxiety, school system inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 5.2k

A/N: It’s Family Day at Hard Deck Arena!

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

“Javy, be careful, you don’t want to drop them!” You squawk as you follow Javy into the arena, narrowly dodging the giant duffel that swings behind him, holding his gear. You’d argued that he wouldn’t need it today, given that family day is mostly a free skate, but he said there was nothing wrong with being prepared. He’s got the heavy bag thrown casually over one shoulder, and he’s balancing the brownies, his water bottle, and his keys in his hands. You’re jogging to keep up, carrying your skates in one hand and Roxie in the other behind him. You’re not exactly ecstatic to show off your poor attempt at skating in front of all your new friends, but Javy’s been looking forward to this all week so you’re putting on a brave face for his sake.

Javy leads you to the break room where you’d first been introduced to the team to find it already occupied by a few guys and their families. You see wives, a few babies, and even a few toddlers and small kids running around. Javy sets the trays on some tables set up at the front of the room. You wince slightly as you take in a meticulously crafted charcuterie board and various trays of fancy-looking hors d'oeuvres that look straight out of Pinterest. Suddenly your brownies seem silly, out of place at what’s definitely much more of an adult event than you’d anticipated. They would be a lot more at home at a school bake sale.

“Hey,” you tear your gaze from the table to see Javy giving you a concerned look. “They’re perfect,” he says firmly, like he can read your mind. He reaches over to lace his fingers with yours. “Don’t worry about them,” he reassures you. “You’re not the one that misread the invite.” You're about to tell him that you don’t believe him but don’t get the chance as an arm is thrown around your shoulder, jostling you as a blonde head cranes over your shoulder.

“Oooo, what’d you two bring?” Jake asks as he scans the table. “Oh, fuck yes, brownies!” He whoops, reaching past you to grab a square. “Finally, some real food,” he grumbles around the brownie that made a beeline to his mouth. “Roadie these are the best, I’m so glad you could come!” The arm around your shoulders squeezes you in an awkward hug.

“Jake!” The three of you look up towards the voice to see Bugs frowning at him. She places her own trays down on the table as she shakes her head. “You have no self-control you know,” she chides as the frown dissolves. Jake gives her a chocolatey grin in response and she rolls her eyes.

“Oh, don’t worry, I made sure they were healthy. I know you and Penny work really hard on their dietary plans, so I tried to keep them as nutritious as possible.” You pipe up in an attempt to further dissolve the situation.

“Oh!” Bugs looks surprised and you wonder if you’ve made yet another blunder until the expression melts into a huge grin. “I was upset that he ran straight in here without me when I asked him to wait.” She gives Jake a pointed look and he has the good sense to look chagrined. “It wasn’t because of the brownies, I promise! He’s fine to eat brownies, they all are, but I really appreciate your attention to that concern. Anything helps, and I really appreciate it.”

“I’m sorry, Bunny, but I was just so excited to see my best friend,” Jake pouts at Bugs before giving you another squeeze.

“I thought I was your best friend,” Javy says with a playful scowl.

“Nah, you can’t cook for shit, I’m trading you in for Roadie.” He ruffles your hair gently as your cheeks heat in response.

“Javy helped make the brownies, actually. He did a whole tray himself.” You pipe up in support of your boyfriend and Javy sticks his tongue out at Jake.

“And they didn’t burn? Damn, Roadie, you really are a miracle worker.” He finally releases you from the hug, turning back to his girlfriend.

“Where are the dogs?” He asks and she puts her hands on her hips.

“Where do you think, mister? You ran straight in here without helping, they’re still in the truck. Hopefully, they’re destroying your seats as retribution.”

Jake disappears out the door with a muttered “fuck” under his breath and you swear you can see a tiny cartoon whoosh of smoke in his wake.

“Who’s the Roadrunner, now?” Bugs jokes and Javy chuckles as he heads out the door after his best friend. Roxie squirms in your arms and you set her down as Bugs uncovers a tray of what looks like bacon-wrapped shrimp. She follows your gaze and laughs nervously, “I know I’m supposed to be a better influence, but Jake insisted on them.” You wave her concern off.

“They look great,” you reassure her, glancing around for plates and napkins. “Do we have…” Bugs heaves a sigh, shaking her head as she scans the room.

“Bob and Dragon were supposed to bring that stuff, I expected them to be here by now.”

“I can run to the store,” you offer.

“No need,” a voice interrupts and the two of you turn to where Bradley enters the break room. Zam’s behind him, armed with grocery bags full of serving supplies.

“Rule number one, Bugs? If you want something done on time? Do it yourself. And never, NEVER, put the boys in charge of utensils.” Zam says as she sets the bags on the ground and starts unpacking them at one end of the table.

“Noted.” Bugs nods with a chuckle and barks echo down the hallway, signaling Jake’s return. Roxie perks up and heads out the door. You’re torn over chasing after her, but Javy should be with Jake.

Bradley’s looking towards the door with an uncomfortable expression on his face. “The dogs come to family day?” He mutters under his breath and Zam rolls her eyes, clapping him on the arm.

“What’s wrong, Bear? You afraid of a few dogs?” You can see the humor glinting in her eyes at Bradley’s discomfort.

“No,” he grumbles as the doorway explodes in a mass of fur. You don’t realize you’ve been hit until you’re staring at the ceiling, your face is being covered with slobber, a heavy weight settled on your chest. You let out a soundless gasp of surprise as your lungs heave at the squish on them. You hear some yelling before the weight alleviates and you’re catching your breath, still staring at the ceiling until a familiar wet nose nudges at your cheek, concerned.

“I’m okay, Roxie, it’s okay.” You assure the dachshund as you sit up, your head spinning slightly as you readjust.

“Meep, are you okay?” Javy sounds genuinely worried as he drops down next to you, a hand at your back supporting you. Jake looks guilty as he maintains a hold on the collar of a frankly enormous dog. She’s a gigantic mass of copper fur and her eyes are dancing between the excitement that bowled you over and confusion at being held back.

“She didn’t mean to hurt you, she just gets excited,” Jake apologizes and you wave him off.

“It’s okay, I’m fine. Just a little surprised is all.” You assure him as Javy runs a tentative finger over the back of your head, checking for a bump where you hit it on the ground. You wince as he presses on a particularly sensitive area and he waves Bugs over. She squats down on your other side. Taking over the prodding from Javy. “I’m fine, really. It’s just a little spot, I’m fine I swear.” You feel your cheeks heating in embarrassment from all the attention being brought to you.

“Why don’t you move this to your office, Bugs?” Bradley suggests, brown eyes meeting yours with a look of understanding. He comes over and offers you a hand up, carefully easing you to your feet. You squeeze his hand in thanks as Javy and Bugs lead you out of the room.

“Do you want me to carry you, Meep?” You wave him off.

“I’m fine, really.”

“Bugs you have to check her for a concussion.” Javy insists and Bugs nods, leading you to an examination room.

“I’ll take it from here, Javy, you head back.” He hesitates but Bugs isn’t going to budge so he eventually relents. When you enter the room, you feel a little silly taking a seat on the examination table.

“I don’t have a concussion,” you say as soon as Bugs closes the door. She turns to you with a smirk.

“Oh, I know. Those boys are just a bunch of big babies, so it’s best to indulge them.” She sits down on the stool across the room. “Well just hang out here for a bit and then go back.” She opens a drawer and pulls out a ziplock bag. “You want a gummy bear?” You take one and the two of you sit in silence for a moment. “Do you want some ice for your head? I know it’s nothing, but it could help with potential swelling.”

You shake your head. “It already feels fine. I was more surprised than hurt, honestly.”

Bugs heaves a sigh. “I’m always telling Jake he needs to keep Pudding on a leash, especially when he brings her here. She just gets so excited when she’s around people, especially new ones.” You nod in understanding.

“Thanks again for making the brownies, I really appreciate you putting in the thought to make them more healthy, and for actually making something fun. So many of the other WAGs just make cocktail food and forget that these guys play a game for a living. They have the collective maturity of a five-year-old.” The two of you giggle at that. “Honestly, that’s probably why you’re so good with Javy.” She points out. “You do this for a living.”

“I’d say he’s more like a puppy than anything else.” You admit. “He’s got good intentions, he’s just bad at showing it.”

“Thanks for being patient with him. I know it’s not easy, but you’re right, he’s a good guy at his core, you just have to be willing to spend the time to see it.” You smile at Bug’s words.

“I’m not exactly a cakewalk either,” you admit, thinking about how much of your antics Javy has had to put up with over the past few weeks.

Bugs shrugs and you see a faraway look in her eye. “None of us are, it’s what makes us people. All we have to do is find the right kind of people who're willing to handle all our bumps and bruises.” She’s right, you realize. You’d been so nervous to be yourself around Javy at first, trying your best to hide your fears and anxieties. And while they didn’t make you the easiest person to deal with, Javy had been nothing but patient with you. He literally rode through a panic attack with you on your first date. And by some miracle, he still wanted to be with you. There were plenty of people that would be easier for him to be with, and yet he’d chosen you. “Just because it’s difficult, it doesn't mean you’re not worth loving,” Bugs says, eyes soft. “Jake taught me that. And I’d bet that Zam taught Bradley that too. And if Javy’s not trying to show you that in his own roundabout way, then maybe he’s gone headfirst into the boards one too many times. I, for one, love having you as a part of our little family.” You feel your cheeks heat over Bugs’s sweet and heartfelt words.

“I’ve never really had a group of friends before,” it comes out less of a blurt and more of a quiet admission. “So it’s overwhelming, having so many people express interest in me all of a sudden. But just because I’m having trouble processing it, doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it. You’ve all been so nice and welcoming and I really am thankful for you all.”

“This world is a lot for anyone,” Bugs says with a tired smile, “it’s hard enough without having to navigate it alone. That’s what draws everyone together, I think. The world of professional athletes can be so far removed, and the minute you get involved with one, whether that’s as a family member, a friend, or a partner, you’re dragged right along into that world whether you like it or not. Zam and I already work in this, but at least we had a choice when we decided to fully step into the spotlight. You didn’t get that choice. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been.”

You remember the horror in your stomach when you found out about the photos of you and Javy first went viral. You’d been sorely tempted to just call in sick for the rest of the day and lock yourself in your apartment for the rest of your days. Even after you’d started dating Javy, you’d found yourself constantly looking over your shoulder expecting photographers to have found you, desperate to pry open your personal life and expose it for the world to see. You were hyper-aware of the way people looked at you, from strangers at the grocery store to your coworkers to your students’ parents. You already went through your daily life fearing the attention and eyes of others, but your overnight exposure to the world had just amplified that. “It was, but all of you made it worth it,” you admit. “It felt like my world was ending for a second there, but having a support system really helped me get back on my feet. And sure, it’s not an ideal situation, but I’m never going to fault Javy for that. He’s doing what he loves and I know how that feels. There’s no better feeling. And this is just a small price to pay to have him, and all of you.”

Bugs’s smile is tender, “you really like him don’t you?”

You feel your cheeks heat in response as well as over the obvious word substitution that does little to diminish its weight in your mind, before nodding shyly. “Believe me, I’m just as surprised as anyone, but yeah, yeah I do.”

Before you Bugs can respond, a knock comes at the door to the office and Nat sticks her head into the room. “Sorry to break up the party, ladies. How’s your ‘concussion’ doing Roadie?” She rolls her eyes as she says this and you giggle waving off her concern.

“Nothing the curative properties of gummy bears and some girl talk can’t cure,” Bugs says as Nat lets herself in. She perches on Bugs’s desk, taking a gummy bear from the bag that Bugs holds out. “What’s up?”

Nat waggles her eyebrows suggestively, “There’s a dark and mysterious man asking for you in the break room.” Bugs’s eyes light up.

“Charlie! He actually came!” Nat’s eyes bug out of her head as she almost drops the gummy bear she has between her teeth.

“That broody hunk is your brother?” She asks, shocked. Bugs rolls her eyes.

“Keep that up, and I’ll tell him you said that,” she says pointedly and Nat’s cheeks pinken slightly, “I better go find him before Jake says something stupid to him,” she hurries back out into the hallway.

“So, Bugs’s brother?” You arch a curious eyebrow at Nat who rolls her eyes and chews her gummy bear loudly. When you don’t give up the look, she shrugs dramatically,

“In my defense, the family resemblance is not there. At least Bugs and Tucker look related!”

“And you think he’s cute?” You push and she barks out a laugh, shaking her head at you.

“Look at you, Little Miss Nosey, where’d she come from?” You shrug, a smile creeping up the corner of your mouth.

“I guess I just hang out with you too much,” you muse and she lets out a faux gasp.

“Roadie, how dare you!” The two of you explode into a fit of giggles.

“Okay, I’m fine, so let’s get back out there, I need to see your broody hunk,” you hold out your hand to Nat who lets out a groan.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t. Not really.”

“Here I was thinking you’d be able to fix Javy, and he just turned you into him.” She bemoans as you drag her towards the door to the office, rolling your eyes.

***

Nat manages to escape your hold and disappears into the labyrinth that’s the hallways of the arena so you find yourself walking around, enjoying the silence, and trying to familiarize yourself with the layout. Most people are floating between the break room where the food is set up and the rink itself as the first few people have started skating. You know you’ll have to head that way eventually, so you’re about to make your way in that direction when you remember that you wanted to try one of Javy’s brownies before they’re all gone. As you approach the room, you’re surprised to find it’s quiet. You must have lost track of time. You duck in, making a beeline to the snack table, planning to just duck in and grab the brownie before hurrying over to the rink to catch up with the others so you don’t see the figure in the corner until his voice catches you off guard.

“Roadie, thank goodness, help me, please.” You whip around, eyes wide in surprise, and you blink slowly as you take in Bradley’s desperate features where he’s seated in a corner by himself. You arch an eyebrow in question before his frantic eyes glance downward, guiding your gaze to where Jake and Bugs’s pitbull puppy, Taz, is draped over his shoe, looking up at him with blue eyes full of anticipation.

“Bradley you scared me, I didn’t think there was anyone still in here,” you make your way over to where he’s sitting, your brownie forgotten for the moment. “What’s wrong?” His face is pinched in distress but you can’t see what could be causing him discomfort. “Is it a muscle cramp or something? Should I get Bugs?” Your brows furrow in concern as Bradley’s eyes widen in horror at the suggestion.

“No, no you don’t need to get Bugs, I just…” his voice trails off and his gaze shifts again to the puppy lounging on his shoe. The tips of Bradley’s ears and the tops of his cheeks are starting to pinken. “Can you just,” he clears his throat as the pink starts to blossom into an embarrassed red. “Can you get it to move?”

“It?” You frown in confusion before you realize what he’s talking about. “Wait, Taz?” Bradley nods furiously even as his blush deepens. “What’s wrong, are you allergic or something?” You examine the red splotches on Bradley’s as he shakes his head.

“I just, I don’t… It won’t stop following me.” You have to hold in the surprised laugh that bubbles up in your throat. “Ever since it got here, it’s been following me. And then I sat down and now I can’t get up.” You purse your lips together to hide the smile threatening to split across your face. Bradley’s a big guy, one of, if not the biggest guy on the team. You’ve watched him shove other men his size around like they’re nothing, and here he is, glued to his seat by a puppy not much bigger than his hand that’s lying on his foot.

“So you just want me to get him to move?” You ask and Braldey nods furiously. You squat down then, reaching out to scratch the tiny puppy’s head. He rolls over onto his back, still draped over Bradley’s shoe and you scoop him up into your arms effortlessly. As dogs go, the Seresin dogs are some of the sweetest that you’ve met. They wouldn’t hurt a fly. “There you go, big guy,” you coo at Taz. “You want to hang out with me for a little bit? I think Bradley needs a break.” The puppy squirms in your arms, tail wagging as he licks at your cheeks enthusiastically. You turn back to Bradley as Taz gets comfortable, “consider yourself a free man,” you say and he gives you a thankful look. “So you’re not a dog person, huh?”

You think you see him try to suppress a shudder. “Not really, no. I was raised by a single mom so between her job and having to race me around to hockey stuff, we didn’t really have time for pets.”

You nod. “My parents didn’t like pets, either. I had fish a few times growing up, but nothing bigger than that. Puppies are just big softies, though. They just want love,” you pause to kiss Taz on his tiny forehead. “So no dogs, how about other animals?”

Bradley shrugs, “I don’t mind cats. My godmother has one, but I think he’s still warming up to me. He doesn’t really like anyone except her. Bob has a cat too, but she’s terrifying. She’s one of those breeds that’s huge, so she doesn’t really feel like a cat. So, I don’t mind cats, but I’m not sure they like me.”

“Have you tried not frowning at them?” He gives you a look of surprise like hadn’t expected you to crack a joke but you just shrug and give him a small smile.

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Animals are extremely aware of our emotions, so if you frown at them, they probably don’t think of you as a friend.” Bradley considers your words for a moment before nodding curtly.

“I’ll try it.” Your smile widens softly.

“Can I ask you another question?” You ask carefully. You haven’t had a whole lot of chances to get to know Javy’s defense partner and something’s been bothering you for a while now. Bradley gives you a wary nod.

“Why don’t you and Javy get along?” Bradley lets out a heavy sigh and you feel nerves twist in your stomach. Maybe you should have just asked Javy, but you wanted to get both sides of the story. “Sorry if I’m putting my nose where it doesn’t belong, but you’re partners, right? I’d think that would be easier if you were friends.” It sounds so childish when you say it out loud but you spend every day helping kids with conflict resolution, so you can’t help but want to help Javy and Bradley with this. You know Javy’s a good guy and you get the feeling that his brooding partner isn’t much different.

“No, you’re right.” Bradley sighs deeply. “We should be closer. I try not to let it affect the way I play, but I don’t think I’m as good at it as I think I am.” You nod, silently encouraging him to continue. “I’ve been in this league a long time, twelve years. And even before that, I’ve been playing hockey as long as I can remember, and I’ve seen a hundred guys like Javy. They let the power the world gives them get to their head. They live life like they’re untouchable like there won’t ever be consequences to their actions, even when they play a game where there always is.” He has a good point. When you’d first been introduced to them, you’d been perplexed by the concept of penalties, power-plays, and penalty kills, but as rough-and-tumble as hockey is, there are consequences to a player’s actions that directly affect the outcome of the game. “And while I’ve seen some guys get off scot-free, I’ve also seen guys who get burned and burned bad. They ruin their lives or worse, ruin someone else’s and walk away unscathed.”

“When I was playing in Philadelphia, we had this rookie join the team. And these rookies, they’re these 18-year-old, fresh-faced kids who get handed a salary that’s more money than they know what to do with and get thrust into a world where they’re essentially celebrities. They have money, they have power, and they run around like a kid in a candy store, testing the limits of those things. Anyway, this kid, he’d been a hotshot in college and it wasn’t a matter of whether he got drafted to the NHL, just a matter of what team. He had an ego the size of a truck and didn’t have a lick of sense in his head.” Bradley chuckles, his voice sounding almost fond.

“My coach knew that, however, and he had this kid move in with me. And I hated him. He was so young and fresh and I didn’t want to have to come home after a long day and play parent. And yet, I did. It wasn’t easy, but I managed to wrangle him and get some sense in his head. It wasn’t easy by any means. There were even nights that I locked him out of the house for staying out too late, and it started affecting the locker room. And of course, he tried tattling to the coaches. I thought it was over for me, honestly. Coach called me into his office one day and I thought I was getting traded or something, but instead, he thanked me. He said ‘he doesn’t appreciate it now, but he has no idea how good he has it.’ He was right of course. We worked things out, eventually.” Bradley pauses, a soft smile on his lips. “And now he’s one of my best friends.” You smile too and you can see the fondness in Bradley’s eyes. “You know, just the other day he called me and he said he asked our coach if he could take in one of the rookies next year.”

“So that’s why you’re tough on Javy?” You ask, softly. He nods, turning to look at you.

“I know he’s a good guy, even if I don’t show it. And he’s a good player, better than me, but he’s not going to change if I tell him that.” You nod in understanding. “Well, that, and he won’t stop flirting with my girlfriend.” Bradley scowls and you laugh at that. “I know he doesn’t mean anything by it, but it still pisses me off.”

“That’s fair. The player you were talking about, what’s his name?”

“Wyatt Eaton, he still plays for Philadelphia. You’ll probably get a chance to meet him the next time the Flyers come to town.”

“I’d love that,” you say and Bradley returns your smile.

“You've been good for him,” Bradley says and you feel your cheeks heat at the compliment. “I still stand by the fact that you deserve someone better than him, but as long as you’re happy, I’m rooting for the two of you.” You smile shyly, bumping your shoulder against his.

“I am. Thanks, Bradley. And thanks for taking care of Javy, I really appreciate it.” He just nods in response. “We should probably get to the rink. Can you grab me a brownie? I want to make sure I get one of Javy’s before they’re gone, and my hands are kind of full.” Bradley goes over to the snack table and you follow still carrying Taz.

“So Javy actually made these?” He sounds suspicious.

“Under my supervision, don’t worry, but yeah he did.” You can’t help the pride in your voice as Bradley cuts off two pieces, wrapping one in a napkin before biting into the other. Your stomach drops as you wait for his reaction. He hums thoughtfully, nodding quietly.

“Not bad, Machado, not bad.” He says and you grin. “Alright, let’s go.”

***

When the two of you make it to the rink, you see that most people are already skating. You see the guys cheering as Zam skates gracefully across the ice, jumping and spinning with the practiced perfection of a figure skater. Bradley’s eyes are on her the moment you enter the rink, a smile on his lips whether he realizes it or not. You deposit Taz where Pudding and Roxie are lying together in the visitors’ bench area before coming back to where Bradley’s pulling on his skates with a practiced ease you’re slightly jealous of. You sit down on the bench next to him, reaching for your skates that Javy already brought over. They still feel clunky as you awkwardly shove your feet into them. You’re sure they’ll be better once you break them in.

Bradley’s voice startles you, “Machado, stop gawking and come help your girl.” Your cheeks heat as Javy’s head whips around and then he’s whizzing towards the bench.

“Meep! You made it!” You’re still shocked by how easily he swings himself over the boards instead of using the tiny door at one end. “Here, let me help!” He drops to his knees in front of you and your cheeks heat in embarrassment.

“I can do it, Javy,” you try to protest but he just gives you a sweet grin.

“I know, but I want to.” Well, who are you to stop him, then? You awkwardly wait as he guides your feet into the skates and laces them up like he did last time. “Alright, Meep,” he claps a hand on your ankle, “you ready for this?” His tone is jovial but his eyes are cautious, searching yours for doubts. You swallow hard, trying to banish the butterflies from your stomach.

“You won’t let me fall, right?” You whisper and Javy’s smile softens.

“Never,” you nod, then, holding out your hands to him.

“Okay, I’m ready.” He stands, then, carefully helping you to your feet before guiding you to hold onto the boards while he swings over and then he holds your hands as you clomp over to the tiny door and nudge it open with your hip. Your legs wobble as you step onto the ice. Whoops and cheers explode from the other side of the rink and you look up to see your friends watching you. Nat skates over, face beaming.

“Roadie, you made it! Look at you!” Her excitement is infectious and you find yourself smiling. She holds out her hand you give her one of yours so now you’re anchored between her and Javy. They lead you as you skate over to the others.

“Looking good, Roadie!” Jake calls out as you reach the group where they're waiting for you.

“You’re looking much better than I was the first time I tried,” Josie points out, pride shining in her eyes. “I fell on my face in front of all of Reuben’s friends because I got cocky.” She winces at the memory.

“Yeah, Roadie, you’re a natural!” Zam pipes up. “You’re sure you haven’t skated before?” You shake your head.

“Not before last time, no.”

As you chat with the others and catch up as you skate along with them, holding Javy’s hand in yours, you feel your self-consciousness slowly start to melt away with all the kind words and camaraderie. Bugs was right, this community is important. You were right too, as hard as the past month has been for you, it was worth it to have a group of friends like this. They were more than just friends, this felt like a family and you were glad to have it.

A/N: Well now I miss the Philly boys 😭

[briarberrythornedhart]

When you have Pocket Aces you don’t bluff

🦇 ♦️ 🦇 ♣️ 🦇 ♠️ 🦇 ♥️

Contains: fluff, Eddie Munson x reader

Your new roommate - or apartment mate - was a great guy.

He did dishes, he kept the bathroom clean, was uncannily good at fixing things, he made a lasagna that tasted like heaven, he never failed to cheer you up after shitty days at work, always paid his half of the rent on time. You truly had no complaints.

Except the one.

He was so hot. Too hot. But you could deal. You could be a good friend and roomie and not lust after his fine person constantly.

Probably.

Unfortunately- He was a big flirt. At first you thought it was just his usual way of speaking. Clearly he couldn’t help it. Or he was so pretty that everything out of his mouth seemed extra salacious.

But, after weeks of watching Eddie flirt at Steve, Argyle, Vikki, Murray Baumann, and the Sinclair siblings’ MOM -

until she told him to watch his fool mouth and be respectful!,

and recently with Joyce AND Hopper at the same time, well…

“Why don’t you flirt with me?” Came popping out of your mouth when you couldn’t take thinking about it silently for another second.

Eddie took a guitar pick out of his mouth. “Sorry? Say wha- now?” He’d been focused on practicing guitar - percussive playing with harmonics or something... but now you had his undivided attention. He turned toward you on the couch, eyebrows up high - hidden by his curly fringe.

“You flirt - a lot - with a lot of people - but not with me, what gives?” You leaned into it, damage already done by bringing up this thing that had been bothering you. “You’ll just sit on Argyle’s lap, you’ll tell Vikki she looks mega hot, You asked Steve if his lips tastes as good as they look...”

You watched Eddie swallow/gulp and he rubbed his fingers on his thighs. “I can’t just… “ he licked his lips, “...say whatever comes to mind with you, I’d go too far... you’d get mad.”

“Try me.”

Eddie’s body language transmitted his reluctance - like a full-body whine. “I really can’t tho!”

“Ah.” You took a breath. “Because you just... can’t think of me that way.” You said flatly. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed. I should probably go do some laundry or something...” You needed to get away from this situation. You felt too vulnerable, too sad. Too foolish.

What the fuck were you thinking even bringing this up?? Things were so good! Why’d you always pick at scabs??

“Nooo!” Eddie scooted closer, stood up, too, put a hand on your arm which stopped you from running away. “It’s not that. Look. I love living here. You’re really the only person that will put up with my bullshit, other than my Uncle. Did I tell you he used to sleep on a cot - the man is nearly 50 he deserves his own real-ass bed. And if you get annoyed with my bullshit, I’ll be on his couch and...”

“I’m not sure what ‘bullshit’ you are referring to, you are a great roommate, actually.” He was.

“You are a great roommate, too.” Eddie twirled a lock of hair around his finger. “I know it looks like I’m hitting on lots of people, right? But It’s not serious. I’m clowning, because it’s safe. How I feel about you... is serious. Real. We are really close and it means the world to me. So I don’t ask you if those lips taste as good as they look - and they do look good - because...”

“Because you know I’d say ‘why don’t you find out?’ and call your bluff and it’d be a whole thing.” You sighed.

There was a dreadful silence - it felt like 50 years passed, but it was probably only 7-10 seconds or so.

Eddie bit his thumb. “You look really pretty today.” He said, nodding his head forward like a little bow.

“So do you. For the record.” you informed him.

“This outfit looks great on you.” he traced a finger around the neckline of your top.

“It’d look better crumpled up on your bedroom floor.” You suggested.

“If I fireman-carry you to my bed, and call your bluff, you gonna kick me out of the apartment?”

“Of course not. I’m not bluffing.”

“Neither am I.” Eddie licked his grinning lips, bent low and plowed into your stomach, picking you up and holding your legs to his chest. He stood there for a moment holding you- until you poked him in the back. And then he laughed and carried you to his bed.

[azrakaban]

Heather - Lorenzo Berkshire

A/N: Happy heather day whores have some words on a screen (yes i know it's very late shush your mushes)

A/N pt2: GUYS I GOT A SWEATER. Also! A note for Americans, a JUMPER is what English people call Sweaters. Which is why Enzo says that!

Summary: You get a sweater <3

THE WHISPER IS FROM PINTEREST!!!! NOT MINE!!!!

..............................................................................................................................

"I still remember

3rd of December

me in your sweater"

-Conan Gray

..............................................................................................................................

December 3rd! An insignificant date for most adults. Had you asked them what was special about the date they would shrug, shake their heads in search of an answer. Perhaps they would tell you it was twenty two days until Christmas.

However, ask any teenager, muggle, wizard or squib, what was significant about the date, and the returned answer would be "Heather Day!"

And here it was. Heather Day. 3rd of December. Almost as bad as valentines day for the single population of hogwarts, who would spend another year freezing in their own sweaters. You were one such person. 

  As you walked to the great hall, you unconsciously shivered as you saw couples wrapped up in each others sweaters. You tried to keep your head down as you passed Alicia Spinnet tugging on Katie Bell's quidditch jersey, a happy smile on her face. 

You were sure a lot of people didn't even know why the trend happened each year, which song had prompted it, which artist wrote the song. YOU DID! Being a massive Conehead came with: A) the unfortunate disadvantage of having to see everyone pretending to like Conan for a day, and B) knowing exactly where the trend came from and being ever increasingly cold each year you didn't receive a sweater. 

It seemed silly to most - insignificant in the grand scheme of things - but it niggled at you, and you found yourself wishing, just once, someone would wrap you in their sweater. "It's just polyester," Astoria told you after receiving a sweater from Pansy, but she couldn't hide the smile on her face for long. 

In truth it was never just polyester, for anyone. It represented so much more, that someone trusted you with an item of theirs, wanted you to wear their things, to share something with you. It represented being loved, liked, wanted. And to not have that yet? It hurt. 

In the build up to the fateful date, people had discussed it with an air of casualness, but everyone was hoping for a sweater, naturally. You'd talked about it in the common room with Pansy, Astoria and the others, but unsurpringly, most of the guys zoned out as soon as the subject was breached, Mattheo even going so far as to fall asleep. 

So yeah, you didn't have much hope of receiving something from anyone in particular. COUGH COUGH MR BERKSHIRE.

..............................................................................................................................

It had snowed that morning, and it didn't show signs of easing up with the snowfall, resulting in a very cold Hogwarts. You weren't wearing nearly enough layers.

In the afternoon, you'd decided to go to a corner of the library, away from all the so called 'study dates' that were taking place. Thank god nobody tended to encroach on your little corner, as it was so far back in the library that few people could be bothered to walk all the way there. 

To your chagrin, that peace was soon disturbed by footsteps. You listened carefully, eventually identifying the footsteps. They belonged to your friend Lorenzo, Enzo only to friends, and your theory was proved as he rounded the corner and sat down on the opposite end of the window seat you were perched on. 

"Thought I'd find you here." He said quietly, getting comfortable. You smiled over your books at him. "You were right. What's up?" You dropped your eyes back down to the book infront of you, shivering slightly. 

"I was just kinda- hey are you shivering?" Enzo frowned, looking concerned. You tried to still yourself to no avail, and shook your head.

"No, nuh uh, why would you think that?" You forced a smile onto your face, trying to hide your chattering teeth. 

"Liar, you're cold, here, have my jumper, I'm too hot anyway." He said, pulling his jumper over his head and passing it to you. 

"Oh, thanks." You tugged it over your head, heart beating wildly. Did he know what it meant? What it symbolised?

He smiled, a real smile. None of that forced look he had when forced to speak to someone. He wanted to be there. "It looks really good on you." He murmured, looking over you in it. You felt your cheeks get warmer, and prayed he couldn't tell how his comment made you feel. 

"You know, there's a party tonight. You think you'll go?" He says quickly, looking up at you, hair flopping into his eyes. You thought for a moment. "Maybe. Think I should wear your jumper if we go?" You teased. 

He looked up in surprise, then grinned, his cheeks turning a shade pinker. Not that you noticed, you were too busy rethinking every conversation you'd ever had while waiting for his reaction.

"Actually, yeah, like I said, it looks really good on you." He answered, running a hand through his hair. 

"Maybe I will then." You smiled faintly. He grinned back at you, then checked his watch. 

"Ah shit, I'm gonna be late for Quidditch practice. Ah well, catch you later y/n, nice knowing you, Mattheo is gonna murder me." He stood, pressing a quick kiss to your hair before hurrying away. 

You sat there frozen for a few moments before it registered. He had kissed you. On your head. BUT STILL! He'd never done that before, it must have meant something right? RIGHT

..............................................................................................................................

Later that day, just after dusk, you were staring at the jumper in the mirror. "Okay lovely, jumper off, you're wearing this." Pansy stated, throwing an outfit to you. You hesitated, catching the bundle. Keeping the jumper on would mean a lot to you - but it would also invite questions - ones you hadn't even answered to yourself yet. Taking off the jumper was your only option. 

You tugged it off, before heading to the bathroom to change. Astoria smiled at you and Pansy nodded approvingly once you emerged. "Gorgeous as always." Astoria commented. "Well duh, I picked the fit. Come on, party's already going from the sound of it." Pansy said, gesturing to the door. 

You all headed downstairs, and your eyes immediately met the brown eyes of Lorenzo like you were magnets. Because of this, you saw as his face fell slightly when he took in your outfit, sans jumper. Mattheo noticed this and and patted Enzo on the back in a gesture of comfort. Enzo sighed and disappeared into the crowd as you began to head in his direction. You paused, a little hurt, before going back to Pansy and Astoria, joining in their conversation. 

Throughout the night, you caught his glances, only for him to turn away. The common room was cold, and you regretted leaving his jumper. Eventually, you had enough and ambushed him, sneaking up behind him while he was talking with Blaiseand tapping his shoulder. 

He turned, saw who it was and immediately forced a small smile. "Yn." You looked so hurt. Enzo was faking for you now. What happened? 

"Why are you avoiding me now?" You tried to seem curious, but the hurt flooded into in your voice. He picked up on it too, flinching barely noticeably. 

"It's stupid." He sighed, brushing his hair back from his eyes with his fingers. "Not stupid if it means I get my best friend back." You offered, and he tensed. "That's what you want is it y/n? A best friend?" He said, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. Blaise winced and skedaddled away. 

"What are you trying to say?" You pressed, confused. He groaned. "Nothing, it's stupid, can you just forget about it? Please?" He answered, looking slightly upset.

"I don't want to. You're upset with me, and I wanna fix it." You said softly, looking up at him with pleading eyes. He sighed, meeting your eyes. "Fine, but not here." He led you from the common room, taking you towards the boys dormitories. Theodore looked over and grinned. "AYYYYY FINALLY!" He cheered, before Enzo sent him a murderous look and he quickly shut up. 

Eventually you reached the boys dorm for your year. You sank down onto his bed, quickly noticing what seemed to be every jumper Enzo owned on his bed, you frowned, but weren't given time to think as he started talking.

"Look, I don't wanna mess anything up, but I think we're a little past that now. You're not wearing my jumper." He said plainly, letting his hands fall to his sides. You looked surprised.

"I can go get it, if you want?" You offered, trying to fix things. He shook his head, sighing. "No, y/n, it's not the same, now you're wearing it because you feel obligated, not because you feel what it represents." He avoided your eyes.

"Enzo, what?" You said softly. He looked back at you, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"When you were talking about the 3rd of December, you said that giving someone your jumper meant you liked them. That it was as good as declaring your undying love for someone or something..." He said, as it started to register with you what was happening. 

"Enzo I don't underst-" You began, but he cut you off.

"No but I think you do, y/n. And it's okay, I give you my jumper, no biggie, just basically tell you in your own language that I really like you, and you wear it, so I'm mistakenly thinking that means you like me too. Then at the first opportunity, it's off, and you clearly didn't mean what you think. Maybe you were just cold after all. And hey, that's fine, I don't wanna screw up what we have already, but it sucks, you know?" He said frustratedly, pacing up and down infront of you. 

"I didn't think you knew what it meant." You whispered, catching his hand as he paced. He looked down at you, surprise flooding his features. "What?" He murmured, taking your other hand in his.

"I thought you were just doing it because I was cold, I didn't think it was because you liked me. I didn't know you knew what it represented." You said, upset obvious in your voice. "I took it off later, even though I didn't want to, because keeping it on meant admitting to myself and to Pansy and Astoria that I like you." You whispered, squeezing his hand. 

"Oh." He breathed, realisation dawning. "Yeah oh." You said, rolling your eyes with a slight giggle. 

"You like me?" He asked, smiling. You nodded vigorously and he crushed you into a hug. When he eventually released you, he was smiling widely. "So will you wear my sweater?" He asked, cocking his head with a smirk playing at his lips. 

You nodded, standing. "I'll go get it." You tried to stand, but he pulled you back down, grabbing a random sweater from the bed. "No, wear this one." He gently pulled it over your head carefully. "There. Now you have two." He murmured, smiling. He looked down at your lips, leaned in slightly, hesitated, then committed, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss, which you reciprocated happily as he grinned into it. 

You pulled back eventually.He pulled you from the mound of sweaters on the bed, which you looked back on. "Any particular reason every jumper you own is on your bed?" You giggled, and he flushed slightly.

"I wanted to make sure I gave you the right one. Now c'mon, let's show everyone your new jumper, hmm?"  He smiled, and led you back downstairs, clad happily in his jumper. 

..............................................................................................................................

A/N: I KNOW I'M VERY LATE TO HEATHER DAY IDC BRO 😔

[heartsfromia]

old habits die hard — k. yudai

pairing: non-idol! k x reader

word count: 3,727

genre: fluff, somewhat childhood friends to… lovers (?), college au but at a party (that isnt hosted by jackson wang)

warnings: profanities, mentions of alcohol, idk if this should be a warning but a bit of nichojoo

author's notes: my first andteam fic! recently got into them and have been smitten ever since (o^▽^o) also these fics will be a tumblr exclusive (unlike my svt fics) so they wont be posted anywhere else (now i have to figure out how to put this on my masterlist)

You hated parties.

Such a cliché statement, but it was true.

You absolutely despised parties, and all throughout your first year of college, you made it your life’s mission to avoid attending a single one (excluding mandatory parties that were held under collegial events, because for some reason, supervisors count your absents for those things). It was easy for the first semester since everyone was just getting to know each other, hosting a party so early in the year was only done by those older than you. There was nothing more akin to modern day torture than being holed up in a poorly lit living room with over a hundred intoxicated people, loud incessant music and sweaty body odor stinking up the already small space.

You always hated sweaty people and body odor, and unfortunately, parties were the Grand Central for them.

So the question might have come up: how did you find yourself at a party?

Simple: Nicholas Wang.

Your best friend, ride or die, and the bane of your existence because the universe had plagued the two of you with opposing personalities. Nicholas knows well enough that parties aren’t your thing and you were stubborn enough that he never tried to change your mind, but he enjoyed them. It was fun, he’s a social butterfly that thrives by interacting with others and he’d always limit himself to asking you to accompany him at least once a semester for a party.

It was the second semester to your second year, so he decided to use his chances now because of much more… important matters to deal with than just partying.

“It’s hosted by Mingyu, Y/N, you know? The guys that rented a whole-ass house for themselves?” You knew who he meant. Kim Mingyu and a bunch of his friends couldn’t find a place to stay once their time on campus dorms had ended, so they decided to find a fairly big house they could room up to ten people to rent. Not only was a huge steal because Mingyu was able to gather about eight other guys to join, but the landlord isn’t strict either, as long as the guys made sure nothing gets damaged (if they did, it was paid out of their own pockets) and to not get the police involved then they were free to do whatever they wanted.

“I don’t really care who is hosting it, Nico,” you mumbled, a resigned look on your face. “Isn’t it a bit early for you to use your pass? It’s barely two weeks into the semester.”

“Uh…” A blush coated his cheeks as he averted his eyes, only piquing your interest now. “So, the thing is… You know how I went skiing for break, I kind of met someone there—“

You sat up, eyes so wide that you worried they’d pop out. This was news; Nicholas, despite being a social butterfly, never was interested in anyone, no matter how many people tried to get closer—boy or girl. You couldn’t help the wide smile that pulled at your lips. “Oh my gosh! That’s awesome! Who are they?” He had always expressed his sexuality as something he never wanted to label, he only knew that if he had romantic feelings for someone, he never really cared for who they were.

“It’s Byun Euijoo, he’s an Engineering major.” Nicholas then went on to explain how the two had ran into each other in the same ski resort the recent break, the romantic cliché of getting stuck in the ski lift for about twenty minutes, and talking until the machine came back on. They then decided to continue their conversation over dinner with hot cocoa and well, to say the least, Nicholas was smitten over the guy.

“But what does Euijoo have anything to do—“ The realization struck. You paused then squinted your eyes. “He lives there?”

Nicholas shook his head, before a sheepish smile etched on his face. “But he did ask if I was going.”

Alas, you found yourself in the party. And to make it worse, not even twenty seconds in the door, someone crashed right into you, their drink and snacks they were carrying had spilled all over you, staining your shirt with an alcoholic concoction and nacho cheese sauce.

“Oh my gosh, Y/N,” Nicholas exclaimed. “Are you okay? Gosh, couldn’t that guy see where he was going?” He threw a glare in the direction of where the guy that bumped into you had gone.

“I’m fine, Nico,” you reassured, however your best friend wasn’t convinced. “Hey, I see Euijoo over there by the food table, why don’t you go talk to him?”

“How about y—“

“I’ll ask around for a bathroom, it’s alright.” He stared at you, brows pulled together. You rolled your eyes, emphasizing, “It’s okay.” You then turned him around so he faced away from him, giving him a gentle push. “Now, go.”

He looked over his shoulder as he walked slowly, but when you gave him a reassuring look, he returned with a grateful smile and disappeared into the crowd, his head popping up right by the food table not long after. Once you were sure he was out of sight, you heaved a sigh, your shoulders slouching. Every time you’d gone out to a party, it’d give you a reason why it is never a good decision. The last time you had gone out, you spent most of your time by the snacks and for some reason, someone didn’t inspect the food provided and you ended up eating something that was way past its best before date, resulting into an intensive couple of hours in the toilet the next morning.

Now your favorite white shirt was stained with alcohol and cheese.

You tried to ask others where the bathroom was, ultimately being ignored at almost every turn.

“Hey, can you point me—“

“Do you know where—“

“Anyone know—“

“Bathroom, where—“

Hopeless.

Obviously you could try looking through every door until you found the bathroom, but the house was three floors, and even the first floor was so crowded, you were grateful to even find the front door again. You wanted to dip—everything in you and the state of your outfit with the stains seeping through the material—urged you to just leave, and hope that Nicholas’ “date” goes well and he won’t need a ride home.

The urge stuck, pushing your body towards the door as if it had a mind of its own (and it was thinking, “fuck this”), but a voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Looking for the bathroom?” A relieved smile appeared on your lips as you turned around to see your saviour of the night, but it immediately dropped when you saw he spoke to you.

Koga Yudai (infamously referred to as “Kei” for reasons unknown to you) had the gentlest of smiles etched across his pink lips when he appeared before you. He looked different—grown, mature, and obviously attractive as hell. A lot had changed since the last time you saw him; the last time being grade school. Of course you were well aware that he went to the same university as you, but he was in a completely department and the chances of your paths crossing was low.

But never zero, I guess.

He glanced down to your mess of a shirt, a teasing grin on his lips. “Damn, Y/N, you really know how to party.”

You rolled your eyes. The relationship you and Kei had in grade school was friendly, being a year above you limited your interactions but back then, he used to live in the same neighbourhood as you. Your mothers met each other often during community gatherings and events, your fathers also worked in the same area in the city. Being friendly with each other was inevitable, but Kei took it a step further by teasing you every so often.

“Do you know where the bathroom is, Kei?” You asked exasperated, not wanting to play along with his teasing. The smell from the cheese and pungency of the alcohol was seeping through your shirt, invading your noise and sticking to your skin, if he didn’t show you the bathroom in that very moment, you were sure a homicide was going to take place.

“Yeah, I’ll show you the one near my room so we can get you change of clothes.” He didn’t give you any opportunity to protest or ask further questions before he turned and walked towards the stairs. You followed him like a lost puppy, eyes darting and dodging those in your way. The two of you reached the third floor which was a lot less crowded than the other two.

“We keep the third floor empty of party-goers,” he stated, answering your thoughts.

As you reached a closed door, you asked, So, you live here?” He turned to look at you, nodding, before pushing the door open to reveal the bathroom.

“Head on in, keep it locked, alright?” He told you, stepping aside for you. Before he closed the door, he said, “I’ll be back with a shirt for you.”

“No, Kei, it’s—“ The door closes before you could finish. You sighed, staring at the closed door in a daze, your heart fluttering against your ribcage. You were grateful Kei barely looked at you, hopefully he didn’t notice the way your cheeks were flushed a bright red, and your heavy breathing (that wasn’t from the two flights of stairs).

God, they’re still here? You thought they’d be gone by now, it had been almost a decade since you realized your crush on Kei. A decade where the two of you never saw each other after he said his goodbyes because he and his family were moving to Tokyo for his dad’s new job. You were sure that would be last time you’d see him, giving you enough time and distance to move on from your puppy love.

I guess the feelings were stronger than I thought.

A knock broke you from your thoughts, causing you to jump slightly and then panic because you didn’t lock the door as Yudai had asked.

“Y/N, I brought the shirt.” A sigh of relief escaped your lips, and you pulled the door open. You were met with a look of confusion from Kei. “You didn’t lock the door.” It wasn’t a question, rather a statement.

“Yeah, I was occupied.”

His brows furrowed to that of worry, his lips pressed in a tight line. Oh boy. “Y/N, you’re at a party. Tons of people are here and this bathroom is open for anyone, who knows what would’ve happened if it wasn’t me that came? No one would’ve known you were in here and you could’ve been cleaning yourself up, forgetting to lock the door and someone could just waltz right in—“ He rants dramatically, using his arms and his face contorting, but instead of scaring you, a laugh left you, stopping his nagging. “This is no laughing matter, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry, Kei, it was an honest mistake,” you reassured him, but his scorn prevailed. “You haven’t changed, huh?”

His eyebrows shot up at that, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the door frame, the shirt he brought draped over his crossed arms. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” He asked with a raised brow.

“You still nag ‘til my ears bleed,” you said, over exaggerating.

A look of offense briefly passed his features. “No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do, you always have!” You grinned. “When I scraped my knee when I rode a bicycle, you told me it was my fault because I didn’t want to wear knee pads. In sixth grade, when I flunked a math test, you nagged at me because instead of studying, I chose to binge watch Barbie.”

Kei’s mouth opened to defend himself, but closed again, thinking back to those days, then finally said, “Okay, maybe I nag a bit but it’s mostly because you don’t listen.”

“Yeah, yeah, can I please have the shirt so I can change? I think the cheese they used for the nachos is a combo of cheddar and blue cheese.” The two of you cringe, and he hands you the shirt before closing the door.

You were to turn to pull your shirt off when the door swung open, a scream escaped your lips as you jumped, turning to find Kei with a shit-eating grin. “Lock it, Y/N.”

“Alright!” A laugh echoed from the other side when you turned the key. You took your time to peel the stained shirt off of you, the state of it causing you to pout as you contemplated whether or not you should give a chance and laundry it or to just toss it out altogether. It genuinely concerned you how much thought you were putting into that decision because the shirt had been with you for years, and it fit you the way that could only be done through constant wear. You doubt you could find another.

So you decided to rinse it, at least get as much of the stain and cheese out with the bar soap available, and then let the washing machine back home deal with the remains. You also grabbed a wad of toilet paper, running it under water before wiping the skin of your stomach and chest. Unfortunately, no matter how much you scrubbed it, the smell of alcohol wasn’t disappearing.

Giving up, you folded your shirt neatly, tucking it away in the small bag you brought before picking up Kei’s shirt. You gripped the shoulders, allowing it to unravel. It was a flannel made of cotton, thin enough for the warm summer night but wasn’t transparent either when you held it against the light. The best part though was the smell; a mixture of softener, musk and woodiness that seemed all-too familiar but you couldn’t put a finger on what it was. One thing you remembered about Kei was his genuine interest in perfumes and all things scented. You remember there was a point you were hanging out in his house and his mother came barging in into his room, angry because Kei had borrowed her perfume and forgot to put it back.

You smiled fondly at the memory, all those days suddenly felt so close—closer than they had ever been for the past few years, but just as far.

You slipped the shirt on, the material feeling soft and warm against your skin. Despite its larger size, you felt it fit you just right.

Once you were done, you pulled the door open and stepped out, pulling at the flannel and tucking the front part into your jeans. “You look really good in my shirt.”

Another scream, but this time, you smacked his arm. “Stop that!”

He threw his head back at your reaction. “You’ve always been easy to scare.” You rolled your eyes, glaring at him, but he ignored the look as he nodded his head towards the left side of the hallway, opposite to the stairs back at the party. “Come, I know these things are really your scene. I’ve got snacks in my room.”

When you were about to follow him, your phone vibrated in your pockets.

Nico: yn where’d you go? i waited by the bathroom and it wasnt you

“Boyfriend?”

Your eyebrows pulled together at Kei’s question, but you shook your head. “No, it’s a friend I came here with.”

“Oh.” A look of relief passed his face, but it was so quick, you almost questioned if you’d imagined it.

You: hey im with kei rn, im okayyy You: pls have fun with euijoo without me 🤭 Nico: alrightt text me if youre ready to go Nico: but take as much time as you want 😇 You: same to youu

With a satisfied grin, you slipped your phone back in your pocket and followed Kei to his room. It looked just as you had expected; a tidy mess. He had always been the type to keep his room tidy enough that his mom wouldn’t nag at him to clean his room at first glance, but you’d look closely you would notice the pile of laundry on a chair, the mess of textbooks on his desk and his untucked sheets.

One thing for sure, the smell of the room could easily distract you to the point you would never notice any of all that.

You noticed the two scented candles lit by his desk, igniting the space in a warm yellow, wavering a bit with your entrance. The layout looked just like what you’d expected in a college student, which meant that there was a small TV screen, mini fridge and a rice cooker. “Not too bad, Koga.”

“Sorry for the mess,” he apologized with a chuckle. “My bedroom is usually off limits on nights like this.” You stared at him expectantly. “You are an exception, Y/N.”

“Such an honour,” you teased, laughing. “I didn’t know you lived here.”

“Yeah, I was one of the first few people Mingyu approached to join,” he informed, and you nodded wordlessly. “Anyway, why are you here? As far as I remember, you never liked crowded places, let alone a party with drunk college kids.”

“My friend, Nicholas, the guy I came here with asked me to come with him as a—I wouldn’t say wing woman, but he was invited by someone he’s interested in and didn’t want to arrive alone,” you droned on, even though what you were explaining didn’t have any correlation why you’d willingly put yourself in a situation you were uncomfortable in.

And Kei knew that. It was exactly what he had asked. “Still putting the needs of others before your own, huh?”

“Still meddling yourself into things that have nothing to do with you, huh?” You bit back, stunning Kei for a second before a soft chuckle left his lips. “I don’t… mind, if the whole cheese thing didn’t happen then I’d probably be having fun by the snack table right now, maybe even talk with Kevin from Stats. I saw him by the kitchen earlier.” You knew you were rambling to deflect, and despite the years that passed between you and Kei, he was still well aware of your old habits.

And he’d always listen. The two of you had sat on the floor close to his bed, the mini fridge beside the door, and he had already propped his arm up, resting his chin while you rambled on, justifying why you did come to the party. He never interrupted, because sooner you would realize what you were spewing wasn’t entirely true and blush, embarrassed for letting yourself talk so much.

“Yeah, I get it, Y/N, but the line between selflessness and self-sacrifice is almost invisible, what you’re doing is sacrificing your own comfort for the sake of others,” he pointed out, “you know you’re not a party person, but you still go out of your way because someone asked you to.”

“That would mean I shouldn’t leave my comfort zone,” you retorted, the back of your neck beginning to heat up. “I’m not eleven anymore, Yudai. I get you had been protective then, but I’m an adult now. I can choose whether or not I want to put myself in uncomfortable situations.”

He was quiet for longer than you expected, and you feared that you’d said something wrong, maybe even offended him. But then you caught the twitch at the corner of lips unfold into a smirk. “You called me Yudai.”

The embarrassment was almost immediate. Your cheeks flushed a bright red, heating up not just your face but your entire body. Nobody—as far as you knew—called him Yudai, all of them called him Kei, even back when you went to the same school. The only people that called him Yudai were his parents, and well, you. It started as a way to tease him, like being called your full name, but doing it so often, it became a habit.

It slipped, in the midst of your minor altercation, you were overwhelmed by the emotions of being treated like a kid to even realize.

“I almost thought you’d forgotten.”

“How could I? The faces you’d make when I called you Yudai were priceless,” you said with a laugh. “Especially when I did it in front of your friends.”

“Not even my mom embarrasses me like that,” he adds, causing the two of you to laugh harder. “I’m sorry if I offended you, I’m well aware you’re not a kid anymore, and yeah, I’m glad you don’t want to keep staying within your comfort zone even if it’s hard.”

“But…?” It was clear something else.

“Just… I guess, it’s a bit hard for me to grasp that you really don’t need me anymore,” he admits, a faint shade of pink appearing in his cheeks. “I know you’ve always been able to handle things yourself, but it always felt, I don’t know, comforting I guess, whenever you included me in the things you were going through.” He paused again. “You’ve matured, Y/N, is all I’m saying.”

His words tugged at your heart, the truth behind them revealing itself in the maze of your memories. Yes, Yudai had always been a nagging Nancy, most the problems gone through during your time together were always accompanied by his reprimanding. However, he never scolded you without providing a solution or way out.

Sure he might’ve yelled at you for scraping your knee but he’d do so while plastering on a band-aid he had prepared beforehand.

Yes, he had talked your ear off when you failed math, but he made it his mission, amidst his own studies and extracurriculars, to tutor you so you can retake the test.

Even now, you’re wearing a clean and comfortable shirt that doesn’t smell like a science experiment gone wrong.

There were different things you wanted to tell him, thank him, say that he made your life easier, but instead you opted to say, “You really haven’t changed.”

Laughter shook his body. “What can I say? Old habits die hard.”

“What habit? Nagging ‘til our ears bleed?” You teased.  He shook his head, the smirk lingering on his lips as he locked eyes with yours.

“The habit of always wanting to be there for you.”

[andiftheycare]

Cute little prompt game done for the STSG Cliché Tropes Fest (also here on Bluesky) — which I’m crossposting! Go and play because the game's too fun!!

This is a Ghosts Stsg AU where Satoru & Suguru are hunting the same school.

Satoru died first, thank you very much, and his hunting game has been at the top of the scary ladder since forever, hence who is this new guy PRETENDING he can be scarier than him? Doing stuff like targeting the first years taking their test of courage at night and taking away from Satoru the pleasure of making them shit themselves?

Sure IT IS COOL how Suguru can physically manifest his appearance in monster forms — the dragon’s excellent, he can admit as much, but then what? How's that fair? Satoru has been scaring those kids the old way TM for ten years now — Suguru needs to back off.

Except, of course, Suguru doesn’t and it's now been three full years of them bickering and tripping each other's tricks, so it's time to find a way to decide, once and for all, who's the scariest ghost in the school. Of course, the only way to do that is by betting — whoever manages to make the next group of kids scream will have first pick on their next victims.

Easy.

Enter Yuuji, Nobara and Megumi, venturing into the school at night.

And they look like easy targets. Satoru is literally grinning when he sees the pink haired guy. He can scare that trio to death.

Like, not literally, Satoru and Suguru enjoy seeing terror and fear wearing out their victims but they won’t go as far as killing them — Gojo’s not that type of ghost, never is with children anyway.

He’s just been stuck there, alone, mostly, for too long. And one needs ways to spend his immortal life on earth until something happens. Unless what he’s in the something already, no glorious afterlife or reincarnation or whatever to wait for him when his soul finally embarks.

Or maybe Gojo isn’t cut for the good place. Any place, really. Answers weren't there for him when he died, and he's sick and tired of trying to find some in the limited void that’s his undead life. Frankly, at this point he wishes for a shaman powerful enough to exorcise him to show face and put him out of his boredom.

Geto, though, is fresh blood. Fresh ghost plasma. Being green means he’s still trying to find answers, which irks Satoru to the next level, because clearly Geto hasn’t listened to his whole spiel about the afterlife.

(He had. Gojo's hands flied around his face as his words got convoluted, getting more and more distracting by the minute.

Geto tilted his head after listening to his rambling for a hour, just saying “Well, isn’t this some bullshit?”)

And another thing Geto does is using the kids and unfortunate souls that enter the school at night as a way to gather information. Gojo’s been there, done that. They can’t see them and can only see Geto's monsters. Even if they did, the living don't carry any understanding of the afterlife.

They don't remember the dead.

Contrary to some funky popular media interpretations, Gojo’s dead-dead. He isn't in a weird coma or in a suspended-life of some forms because he was quite literally stabbed in the school corridors. Can’t forget the blade. Can’t forget the absence of warmth afterwards.

“So, wait,” Geto says while the children take the stupid dumb decision of separating “You were killed by your own family?”

“Sort of.”

Geto tilts his head. “Your uncles hired a paid-for-killer. What do you call that?”

“Oh, that’s just unlucky.” Which it really is. Gojo escaped multiple murder attempts before Toji Fushiguro won the murder lottery, because the bounty on his head has been high since the day he was born. Being the first male heir to Gojo Corps. in three generations was, to some of his family members, nothing but a curse. They couldn't stand a child from the auxiliary family granted all their money by birth right.

So here he was.

Gojo still wonders which one of his teachers sold him out; if they at least made decent bank. He'd be so pissed if they didn't. Embarrassingly, he wishes he died on a private jet; in a sky accident; poisoned, even. It would’ve been a better narrative, a decent end.

But no.

He was stabbed by a Zen’in man. Fuck off.

And since he died on school grounds, he’s now stuck fo-re-ver. The very definition of peaking in high school.

“You never told me how you kicked the bucket.”

Geto Suguru — a name that almost rhymes with his own — smiles placidly, sugary. Satoru would feel goosebumps on his skin if he still had working neural pathways.

“Same way anyone does.”

“Violently, surely.” Satoru taps a finger on his forehead, chin angling towards Geto’s scar. Distractedly, he turns on the funky purple lights on the music room, just to stir the children a bit.

Geto’s smile widens, defiantly so. They share clubs rooms and bathrooms and empty classrooms all day, every day. There are few other spirits to talk to — rather, few other spirits who are still able to talk at all — in their proximity. Which means that reading Geto's smile is then second nature, to the point where it doesn’t sting when Suguru says “I remember the day you died.”

Satoru sees white. Bubbles of it dotting his sight, peppering Suguru’s black hair and skin and uniform like misprints on a manga page. “Fuck off, you don’t. You’re too young.”

A brief moment of eery silent follows. The temperature in the room drops and drops. Yuuji screams from far away. Not because of them, no, there's a big spider on the wall of the occult's club room.

“But I guess they must’ve ran a tv special or something? Was I front page at least in the Asahi Shimbun? Did they print my good shots the they broke the story, right?” Satoru pauses, grumbling. “Tell me they changed my press kit. At least for my funeral. Those pictures were…” he makes a gagging noise.

Suguru stifles a laugh. “Really?”

“What?”

“Is this what you want to know? How they weaponised their pain to showcase their wealth?”

Right on point. Satoru fucking hates him.

Yet.

“I didn’t die recently,” Suguru concedes, levitating over the food ed class, searching for the creepiest corner to hide and jump out from.

“And you’re not going to tell me about that, either?”

“I think you should take the Fushiguro kid.” Suguru says in lieu of replying. “I’ll take care of strawberry head.”

Satoru scoffs. “Please. You’re going for an easy win. Get the girl instead.”

They both look outside the window overlooking the dimly lit football field, the one where Satoru used to spend all his breaks. Said girl sighs, playing with her torch, grinning manically, whispering "I'll fucking kill them."

“She won’t crack.” Suguru mutters, matter of fact.

“Even better.”

“That’s cheating.” Suguru retorts, this time with a different kind of smile. “Are you saying the great Gojo Satoru can’t even scare a teenager? How lame.”

“I’ll show you lame.”

“Please.”

“That, too. I’ll make you beg for forgiveness.”

Suguru blinks. Twice. It’s disconcerting. “Christ,” he’s smug, almost, when his eyes soften on Satoru, just enough for Satoru to feel it, physically, somewhere in the ethereal manifestation of his being, the need for those warm eyes to look anywhere but in his direction. Fuck.

Here it is, Geto Suguru's most irritating trait: making Satoru believe warm blood can pump in his ears again.

“At least you’re cute.”

“What?”

And with that, Suguru disappears into the wall.

“Oi, what does that mean? Come back, you coward.”

[I’m not finishing this because otherwise it'd to be long but this is what happens next.

They split and go after Megumi and Yuuji. They’re somehow aware of what the other is doing and are weirdly pleased when the other's clever idea works, getting the kids worked up and jumpy.

That’s the most fun they had in ages.

Gojo's ghost powers are related to the earth’s magnetic field and gravity pull, so he can do basic ghost stuff like levitating objects etc but also he can manipulate light and create invisible barriers between his victims and the world. His scarier-ish power, born out of the RAGE of having been killed by his stupid family aged 16, is basically infinite void — he can make people see the afterlife and kill them on the spot. He doesn’t use it that much but he killed Toji Fushiguro here and there when he manifested as a ghost after being murdered.

Gojo had seen, because of how quickly he manifested, his body die. He'd seen it lying on the corridor's floor while he could still breathe. He remembers the fire alarm being pulled, the siren of the ambulance that arrived some time too late.

Killing Toji wasn't enough of a revenge.

Anyhow, they accept they’re better as a duo and start working together bc that’s funnier and smarter. Gojo’s funky feelings get funkier — bear in mind, they've been getting funkier for years, Gojo prefers to ignore them because romance as a ghost? Doomed. For sure.

He discovers that Geto was killed by a sport injury few months after Gojo. Geto was taken to the hospital and went through brain surgery and was in a coma for years, and his physical body is older than his ghost form — which is himself as freshly-turned-17 years old, where his development and memories stopped.

His monsters are the nightmares he lived in during his coma. Anyhow, Geto died because of a heart failure caused by a medical error. The scar is just a symbol. He remembers Satoru because they actually went to the same school but were in different classes and knew he was the Gojo kid. They never mixed. Suguru was evacuated from the school the day Gojo died, taken from his geography class to the assembly point in the gym. The students were kept there until the police arrived and the body was carried outside.

The story goes on and it's all about the process of grief, which is the one of having lost their own life for something as silly or unfair as being born in the wrong family or medical misconduct.

Geto's hunting the school because, mentally, that’s where he died. His last real day was there. In the end, they let the kids go because living vicariously through their youth won’t give them back theirs. They’re now somehow friends but Gojo never felt like kissing any of his friends before.

By sunrise, when the trio complete their test of courage, Geto and Gojo disappear and reincarnate.

Yes, they do meet again years after they're reborn and ofc Gojo’s eyes can always see the shape of Geto’s soul (or whatever the JJK0 novel said), so even if they don't have memories of the afterlife/their past life, their souls recognise each other.

The first thing Gojo says to Geto in their new life is “Urgh, you're lucky you’re cute.”

Geto blinks.

“With those bangs, I mean. You’d look weird if you weren’t cute. Right?”

END.]

[karltface]

So, I went antiquing with a friend today. And came home with one of my Grails, for a paltry $15.

A grail so grand, it doesn't fit in the photo setup.

Alright, goin' out back!

Behold, Tendril! A delightful Kaiju hailing from Hasbro's Inhumanoids in 1986, this plant-based hellspawn was unleashed by a corrupt industrialist, bent on releasing it's counterpart, the half-rotted zombie virus vector known as D'Compose, in order to free their master, Metlar, and enslave humanity or something. Oh, a half dozen humans with color-coded exo-suits saved the day and all (with the help of both tree monsters and rock people, no less!), but still, it was pretty grim stuff.

This beast, beating previous champ Krusher at 14.75", menaced humans in the 5" range, as I recall. A bit small on paper, but these guys had pretty bulky suits, so it works out, and it's certainly enough to menace any average action figure.

The back is entirely unpainted, but at least the sculpt keeps up. Said sculpt is competent enough, but apart from the feet, it doesn't convey "plant" so much as "amorphous mass".

Articulation is fairly minimal: the obvious swivels are about all you get, except for the bendy arms, and those don't hold a pose very well. Every figure in the line had a light-pipe feature, cleverly worked into the heroes' helmets. The various monsters mostly had it in their eyes, but Metlar and Tendril both bucked the trend with two glowing teeth. This is true to the animation, but very strange indeed. It does result in an unfortunate orange patch on the head, but I'm not sure even dual-injection could solve that problem. So it goes.

This is actually the second release, with blunted fangs to prevent chipping. Or for safety concerns, more likely.

Putting this Plant-thulhu on the cover of issue 1 didn't do much to endear the public, nor did the horrifying miniseries. Before its time? Poor market penetration? Whatever happened, I saw more of these at Kay Bee than regular retail. Mine was actually a garage sale find, back in the day. One broken fang, no tails. Loved it anyway. Good to have one again.

On a side note, it took me over half an hour to clean this. Someone clearly loved it enough to play with it in the mud, as they should.

[auguste-marmonts-only-fan]

So if the piramids are actually balkans

And Marmont was in the Illyrian provinces

No wonder he made Marmontberg

Exactly

We are playing 6D chess out here

Marmont was contacted by ancient balkan aliens that told him," brate, gradi piramidu... jebote život. Jebiga moraš i nek' se zove po tebi, ko' ga jebe. Kud poklo da puklo"

This knowledge was hidden from the world

Merry Christmas and happy holidays, people

[karleksmumskladdkaka]

DIABOLIK LOVERS Night Pool Ruki Mukami Acrylic Photo Card

[moreaujeans]

IM FREEEEEE

[mantisgodsdomain]

We ought to write more Pokemon fic some time. We want to recreate the Pokemon Manners/Human Manners cheat sheet that we made a few years ago we think that this site would like the Sliding Scale Of Politeness When Greeting A New Pokemon You've Never Met Before.

[brittlebutch]

much to be said about how it’s kind of unfair to try navigating life while Touched, but also i think it’s just a normal facet of life that you can’t always get what you want,, so it’s hard to justify bitching Too much sometimes :/

[zecoritheweirdone]

been thinking 'bout mystery skulls animated recently!!! so, i decided to try my hand at drawing a mr. lewis pepper for the first time!