#or that he was a bad friend like please. he wasn't a bad friend he was scared!!!

[kinnieys]

NSFW CONTENT ᵕ̈♡˳೫˚∗

˳೫˚∗warnings: toji is called "sir", choking, pet names, protected sex, virginity loss, spitting kink(?), belly bulge.

˳೫1k words~

ᴛᴜᴛᴏʀ !?

you were a fresh university student, new to everything, stressed... it's not like you failed anything! but history. well, if you keep up with those unsatisfying grades your parents could think again about putting you in such a prestige place, so you had to find a solution but instead the solution found you instead.

you sat on the uncomfortable wooden chair, waiting for the older man to come in with books. a week ago you went to a frat party with your friends and you heard the gossip about some "retried proffessor", nobody really knew what happened, the most realistic guess was that he had a romance with one of his students, even if not forbidden it could give a negative light on such uni you went to.

all people you talked with recommended him, he was cheap and good so you decided to go, not like the money was the problem, the mystery around him pulled you towards the idea, so here you were, hearing small cruses in low voice being said and a thud of hard-covered books. then you saw him come inside the kitchen bending his head to not hit the doors. he was fucking big, the apartament he was living in felt too small for him- that's what you thought.

he placed two thick history books on the table and sat next to you putting glasses in meantime, one of the earpiece visibly put together with silver tape. "so my girl, what you don't understand?" he gruffed looking at you, tilting his head a bit down.

you looked at the books stressed, and at him, you didn't think about what you wanted to learn or you didn't know- in your opinion you knew nothing. "well um..can we start from the beginning of the year professor?" you mumbled quietly, expecting him to scold you or grimace, though he only raised any eyebrow and chuckled after. "is it that bad?" he turned around on his chair to face you. "call me toji, i don't feel like a professor for a long time, alright honey?" a shiver went down your spine at his words, you faced him back, just as he did.

you didn't want to think anything of his nicknames, you knew lots of teachers and professors called their students nicknames so you treated it as his old habit, well at least you tried. "alright toji, so where do we start?" you asked, swallowing at how shamelessly he gazed over you. "you didn't come here to study, did you?" he huffed, moving in his chair closer to you, your thighs touching together. "last week i got two girls like you, just wanting for a hook up. you look like it too, not even prepared to study at all."

toji said more confidently, his hand got placed at the back of your back making you shudder. "h..huh.. sir please-" you uttered trying to pull away until he caught you fully in his grasp. "wanna call me like that in bed too honey?"

"ngh~ s..sir" you moaned softly feeling his length against your pussy lips. he was so massive. you tried to move but his hold on your arms stretching them back to him, your head falling in his shoulder.

he smirked looking down at your fucked up face, virgins were so easy to tease and toy with. "so i wasn't wrong. another university slut huh? rich brats."

he laughed breathy positioning himself at your entrance, your back arching. "thinking you will be the one fucking me. but it's me who do it." he leaned close to your face making eye contact. "open your mouth up bunny."

he whispered pushing his tip slowly inside of your tight cunny. you gasped, making a small "o" shape with your lips, letting toji to spit in your mouth. "swallow." he commanded and slid his cock inside of you, making him sigh in delight, from what he felt in this weeks, you were the tightest one, a virgin after all, he wondered if you even touched yourself.

you chiked on his spit swallowing, tears swelling up in your eyes, mascara started to be bit smug around your eyes. you felt the big stretch, his shaft feeling you up so good "no sir, sir si-" you whined loudly panicking and trying to catch your breath.

"shut.the.fuck.up." he groaned, letting go of your arms and putting his arm around your neck in a headlock, flexing biceps. his other hand going to your waist pushing you down on his dick, tip kissing your cervix making you whine loudly in pain, but also pleasure, you almost instantly gushed over his shaft creating a ring over his cock of your juices and his precum.

"so tiny and sensitive i barely got you on my dick." he growled leaning a bit over peeking at your tits, then his gaze shifted on your belly, he saw a light bulge where his cock was. oh how much he enjoyed it. "any last words before i ruin you honey?" he asked in a mockery caring tone, moving his hips minimally, making you gasp. "i guess no.." toji whispered in your ear and started rolling his hips, the fat, red tip hitting your poor cervix every time, when you moved your hands weakly up to hold on his forearm around your neck sobbing from the pleasure.

with every thrust he flexed his bicep so you get knocked out of air. without realizing you were cumming again, your little hole gasping, squeezing him so nice. after few huffs toji pulled out cumming. he sat down back on his chair pulling your weak body on his lap, he took off the used condom and put on another one. he was still hard.

you turned your gaze up to his face panting and then down on his cock. toji held your face with his hand squeezing ur cheek, making you look at him. "we are not done. at least me...

sweetheart."

[jasntodds]

can i request a jason fic 🥺 i was reading through the prompt list and saw two ("here's a spare key, so you don't have to keep coming through the window" and "i didn't know you could cook this good") and i thought they'd make a cute setup for a friends to lovers moment 🥺 sorry for not being around! i've been struggling with reading on my phone for long periods of time the last few months 😭 -guiltywaves

@guiltywaves omg hey!! I love friends to lovers so much dkjf but no no it's totally okay!! No worries!! I totally understand!! It happens to me all the time lmao I'm so sorry this took so long!! I wanted it to be perfect and make sure it wasn't super long!! I hope you like it!!

Maybe I'll do a part 2

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Words: 3,045

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of injuries

masterlist | tag list | requests: open

Jason climbs through your window. A routine of sorts, really. After patrol, he comes by and always through your window. Sometimes he’s injured and lets you help him before you offer your couch to him. Sometimes he just stops by with a snack. But, he always comes in through the window.

Tonight is no different.

It’s after three when your window creaks open, Jason noting to himself to fix it for you. He crawls through your window, your apartment dark as it usually is when he comes by this late. He flips on the floor lamp to your living room before taking his helmet off and making his way to your kitchen to rest it on the table. He finds a note, your handwriting scribbled across the page containing Nightwing symbols at the corner.

Jason rolls his eyes but reads the note.

Leftovers in the fridge please eat

A smile tugs itself onto his lips before he pockets the note, folding it neatly beforehand. He’s quiet, reaching for the fridge where he finds the leftovers already in a bowl for him with a note that has his name on it, something that almost always makes him laugh. He's the only one you ever save food for.

This note has the Robin symbol.

He doesn’t think you even own anything with a Red Hood symbol and a very large part of him knows it’s because you do it to fuck with him.

It works every time.

He grabs the bowl, pulling the plastic wrap from it before he pops it in the microwave. He grabs a fork from the drawer and leans himself against the counter with hooded eyes, sleep tugging at his chest and bones. Patrol wasn't too bad tonight, that's not really it. He's standing in your kitchen and it's comfortable here. He's allowed to breathe with ease in your apartment and sometimes, that alone can make him crave sleep. The white noise of the microwave is only contributing to the heaviness of his eyes until it’s suddenly interrupted.

“Knew you’d be hungry.” Your voice tugs Jason from his almost sleep.

You look tired.

You sound tired.

“Thank you.” Jason’s cheeks turn a pretty shade of red as he rubs the back of his neck with his free hand. “Just gonna eat and head out.”

“You can stay.” You roll your shoulders.

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “‘M fine.” He gives you this toothy grin as some sort of proof he isn’t injured tonight though you’ve already pieced that together with him heating up his food.

“It’s late. You’re just gonna be more tired after you eat, Jay. It’s not like you don’t stay half the time anyway.” You roll your eyes at him before you disappear down the hall.

The microwave dings and it sends Jason quickly reaching for the handle to get it to stop. The noise is so jarring in your quiet apartment it sounds like his ears might bleed. The bowl is hot on his fingertips as he grabs it, quickly stirring before he puts it back in for a bit more time.

“I got you something.” You state as you reemerge from the hallway.

Jason’s brow quirks up. “What?” He let out a half-scoff half-chuckle.

The microwave barely gets a ding off before Jason grabs it and removes his bowl. He places it on the counter before you approach him. Jason faces you, eyeing you carefully before he sticks his fork into the pile of pasta.

“Here’s a spare key.” You stick out your hand and open your palm, revealing a painted red key. It matches his helmet. “So you don’t have to keep coming through the window.”

Jason thinks he might have a panic attack.

He’s comfortable around you. You’re his best friend. You’ve been friends for years, long before Red Hood. You know everything there is to know about him. It’s why he’s so comfortable walking into your apartment and grabbing his food. It’s why he can get some sleep when he’s here. But, having a key feels serious. It feels like a large responsibility. It feels like a commitment to something he’s not sure he knows what to do with.

He's staring at your palm like the key might try to bite and you have to hold your breath. There's always a chance he says no and it really shouldn't be a big deal because he's your best friend but you hold your breath anyway. You tell yourself it's just a key because Jason Todd deserves to feel welcomed somewhere at all times and that somewhere is here.

“Jay, you’re here all the time.” You tell him before you grab his hand and put the key in it. “Just use the damn key. And whenever you want.” You shrug. “I know sometimes you just don’t want to be alone so you can just come over whenever. I don’t know. You’re just always welcome.” You glance to the key in his hand and then up to him, hoping he takes it.

“I can’t do that.” Jason shakes his head, still holding out the palm of his hand.

“And why not?” You challenge.

Jaosn’s different than he was when you were kids. He’s guarded, cautious, you think he’s scared. When he was a kid, he was a little fearless and a little reckless. It wasn’t anything too crazy but a little reckless. He was open and welcoming. He was still cautious but it was more that caution just came from needing to survive from one day to the next. Jason’s caution today makes him look over his shoulder, look at every single person near him to see if they have a weapon. It makes him hide a gun under your couch and in one of your cabinets. He has a stash of food in his apartment he thinks you don’t know about. He’s different now than he was. So, you offer patience while still testing him. He doesn’t need to be different with you.

“Not trying to impose.” Jason tries to play off his own fears. “The window’s fine.” He tries to deflect. “It’s not even a bother anyway and—“

You let out a sigh cutting him off. “You’re not imposing if I’m inviting you which I am. The window’s fine until someone spots you and wants to know what the fuck is going on. The door is right here.” You point over your shoulder to the door. “Just take the key and use it.” You offer him a soft smile. "I want you here." You clarify.

Maybe it’s not the key itself that makes Jason want to run through a window. It’s the implication of what a key could lead to. And what if you ask for it back?

What if you change your mind?

“I painted it to match your helmet.” Your eyes soften, a hint of innocence behind them.

Jason's eyes go to the table, spotting his helmet and his chest feels like it’s on fire. Most of the stationary you own has to do with the bats. You have random collectibles of theirs, too which may have actually been gifted to you but you have them regardless. But the key to your apartment is Red Hood red.

You think you see a smile forming.

“Fine.” He caves, curling his fingers around the key before stuffing it deep into his pocket. “‘M gonna thank you for it then.”

“Okay, Jay.” You shine, relieved he took it.

“Can I eat now?” He points to his bowl of food that's no longer steaming.

“Yes, yes you can.” You chime.

Jason picks up his bowl, leaning his lower back against your counter before he twirls the pasta around the fork. You sit in front of him on your table just watching him. He’s your best friend but it’s hard not to notice how the armor compliments his muscle. It’s hard not to notice how pretty he is even in the low light of your apartment. You think he’s always been pretty but since reconnecting, you can’t help but think he’s stunning and tall and big. Your mind wanders to his hands, the way he holds the fork with large but delicate fingers as if he could break the metal with ease. You think how it would feel to hold his hand in yours, knowing Jason’s always radiated heat. You think how his palms are probably calloused and how they’d feel against your skin and—

Nope.

You shake your head of your own thoughts. He’s your friend and you’re just extra tired and touch-starved lately.

“How was patrol?” You ask with ease, kicking your feet in front of you, just missing his legs.

He shrugs. “Not too bad.” He answers. “Stopped a few robberies.” He states as he twirls his fork around his pasta.

“You look tired.”

He hums softly before taking his first bite, not even realizing how hungry he was until now.

“You look tired.” Jason quips back with the nod of his head towards you.

“That’s because it’s four in the morning.” You laugh softly. “Most people are tired at this time.” You widen your eyes at him to tease him.

"You can go back to bed, don't have to watch me eat." Jason widens his eyes back at you in response.

"No, that's okay." You smile back at him, not wanting to go back to bed when you could be out here with him.

“You know,” Jason starts as he points his fork at you. “Gotta get you different stationary. Tired of your Nightwing, Red Robin, and Robin bullshit.” He changes subject, a little relieved you want to stay up a little bit with him. He feels guilty you're up with him but he does really enjoy your company.

“Aww,” You give him a pout. “But don’t you just love Dick and Damian and Tim?”

Jason blinks at you a few times as he keeps a straight face before taking another bite.

You let out a laugh and Jason thinks your laugh could cure him of all of his sadness.

“They’re your brothers.” You giggle.

“Exactly.” Jason answers.

“I could have painted your key Nightwing blue or the Robin colors.” You tease him with a cheeky grin.

“Can’t pick Spoiler or Orphan?” Jason says it more sarcastically than anything else.

“No, you like Steph and Cass.” You laugh.

“Swear, if I show up to Batman shit, I’m out.” Jason laughs back.

You make a mental note to pick up a Batman mug tomorrow just to fuck with him.

“Of course not.” You scoff but Jason knows he's given you the bad idea.

Jason laughs softly before taking another bite. “Go to bed.”

You let out a sigh before you hop down, noticing Jason is almost done eating anyway. "Pillow and blanket are already on the couch for you."

Jason glances to the couch, seeing a pale blue blanket peaking out from the arm of the couch.

"Thank you." Jason offers you a sincere but small smile. "Goodnight."

“Goodnight, Jay.” You smile softly before heading back to your room.

The next morning, you’re awakened by the smell of something cooking in your kitchen. For a few seconds, you think you’re either dreaming or hallucinating. But the longer you lay in bed, the more you become positive there’s definitely food being made.

It smells a little sweet and warm. It actually smells warm. And yet, it’s almost completely silent in your apartment. You figure it’s Jason because Jason can cook but you have no clue how he manages to be so quiet about everything he does. Sure, it’s his training and his life depends on it, but every time you try to cook anything, you drop at least one pan onto the floor and utensils usually go flying somewhere. You feel bad for you downstairs neighbors.

You grab your phone from the charger, pocketing it before you head out to the kitchen, still wiping sleep from your eyes. The smell grows stronger and you finally figure out it’s your favorite breakfast food. A smile pokes at your lips because, in all your years of friendship, you and Jason have only done breakfast a handful of times but he remembers anyway.

He’s attentive. That’s also something that comes with his training because his life depends on it. But, you knew him before Rd Hood. Before Robin and Batman. Jason Todd has always been attentive and you don’t think it’s something about living on the streets. It’s something that’s embedded into his DNA, pay attention to small things. Maybe that’s because of his mom, his overall childhood of having to take care of her but maybe it’s also just him.

“Morning.” You greet as you stretch your arms over your head, bending your back back a bit.

“G’morning.” Jason greets as he turns around from the stove.

He sounds well-rested.

He looks well-rested for once.

“You’re making breakfast?” You question as you walk over to your coffee maker, an empty cup already ready sitting there for you.

“Told ya I’d pay you back.” Jason states as he continues cooking.

“You really know the way to my heart.” You joke as you get your coffee going. “Always food.”

You watch Jason continue to cook and you think you could probably be mesmerized by everything he does. He's not really doing anything special but it seems that way because it's him. He could trip over a rock and fall into a lake and you'd still be mesmerized.

"Hello?" Jason calls, waving a hand in front of your face. Your eyes snap up to his as you feel your cheeks starting to burn. "I asked how you slept." Jason chuckles as he starts to plate the food for the both of you. "You alright?"

You shake your head, almost fumbling for words. "Yeah, sorry. Zoned out." You clear your throat before you start to pour your cup of coffee. "Good, to answer your question." You let out a breath with the roll of your shoulders. "You?" You ask with a soft smile before you make your way to your spot at the table.

Jason always tends to sleep better here. Your couch isn’t exactly the most comfortable or the biggest but he still feels like he gets real sleep whenever he’s here. He could sleep a few hours and still be more rested than had he just slept at his place.

Jason doesn’t mind being alone, it’s always a bit safer if not for him then for the people around him but being alone gets pretty lonely. He doesn’t have to feel alone here. You’re here and he thinks he’d never be lonely again if you were always around.

“Good.” Jason answers, not willing to elaborate on his thoughts. “Your breakfast is served, princess.” Jason smirks at you with his quip as he sets the plate down in front of you.

“Ass.” You retort with the roll of your eyes just as Jason goes to take the plate back. Your hand grips his wrist. Your hand is no match for him, it’s tiny compared to him and his strength alone is enough but he stops anyway. “No, no, I’ll take this thank you.” You push his hand away and guard your food.

He laughs with the shake of his head and you hope the walls are absorbing the sound. Jason stays at your apartment a few days a week but he’s never here when you wake up. The blanket is always folded on the arm of the couch with the pillow placed perfectly on top. There’s always some sort of note thanking you for letting him crash. Sometimes, if you sleep in because work sucked or you're sick, he picks up some of your favorite snacks and takeout, leaving it in the fridge for you for when you wake up. But, he’s never here.

You find yourself thinking you could get used to this though. His laugh in the early morning and him looking so comfortable.

His hair is all tousled from sleeping. He looks a little disheveled. You see him disheveled all the time because he always has helmet hair and he’s always getting himself into trouble. It kind of comes tih with territory, you think. But, today, it’s just because he slept here. He looks disheveled because his hair is messy and he’s comfortable. He looks comfortable and warm and you’d go as far as to say he looks beautiful.

You hope he chooses to stay more.

“Okay, I didn't know you could cook this good.” You states after taking a few bites, genuinely surprised. Is there anything Jason Todd is bad at?

A rosey shade of pink dusts over his cheeks as he shrugs. “What? Thought I only eat pasta and whatever else you managed to save me?” He quips, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through his ribcage.

“Well…yes.” You let out a laugh while Jason offers you his fake glare.

“Like to cook sometimes, got good at it.” Jason shrugs a shoulder with his minimal explanation.

“Well, now you have to cook more.” You shrug easily as you offer him a grin.

“I have to?” Jason raises a brow at you, taunting you to rethink your words.

You don’t.

“Yes. I said so.” You laugh back at him.

“Not sure I want to now.” Jason shrugs his shoulders dramatically.

“Awww, pretty please, Jay.” You give him a pout and not even a single ounce of him actually believes he’d ever be able to say no to you about anything.

“What’d ya want for dinner?” Jason asks before he goes back to his food.

“Wait, really?” You beam and Jason glances back to you.

There’s always this sort of pull in his chest when things feel good, like he’s undeserving and he needs to wait for the other foot to drop. It feels like this now. He feels comfortable here. He’s happy here with you. You’re his favorite person and you're always the person he wants to talk to you about a new book he read or something insane one of the bats did. You’re the first person, the only person, he goes to when he’s been hurt on patrol. Jason swears you’re his best friend despite the beating and rumbling through his ribcage.

“Unless you’re bored of--”

“I’m never bored of you.” You cut him off immediately. “Okay, I’ll think of something and I can help.” You beam back at him with excitement before going back to your food.

A smile tugs at the corner of Jason’s lips and despite the worrying and fear of this whole thing blowing up in his face, he finds himself thinking he could get used to mornings with you, just like this.

[backinmyphase]

Not my honeymoon

Synopsis: A household of an arranged marriage with Gojo Satoru wasn't easy. And as the pressure from the higher ups was becoming more and more there was something to discuss. Your honeymoon.

Or: Satoru Gojo doesn't even know how attached he will grow to his wife yet.

Pairing: Gojo x reader, 3000 words

Not really satisfied with this but I hope you enjoy!

Series Masterlist!

"Are you okay, Gojo?"

No, he was definitely not. He wasn't since all of this started. Since he was destined to marry you. But now as he looked at you it was a different kind of not okay.

What did he do???

You looked sad, no, devastated. Ever since you two ate breakfast together every morning, he thought you would look more relaxed. Maybe even comfortable.

But you seemed to put up a barrier everytime he asked something. And then there was the name.

You still called him Gojo. Even though you were now named the same.

You so carefully kept your distance and you had this sad look in your eyes.

He was worried.

"Yeah, of course." he returned to eating his breakfast. After a bit of silence he opened his mouth again and was surprised he could speak.

"Are you? You look tense."

Your body tensed up again as you looked at him and he wanted to punch himself. He made you uncomfortable, didn't he?

"I am, no worries." you didn't raise your head.

Where did his confidence go? His charisma? His social skills?

Something about his wife made all these so important and natural things dissappear.

The silence spoke loud and the sounds of the eating didn't cover enough of it.

This silence wasn't unusual. In fact it was almost always there when you ate breakfast together. So all the time you saw each other.

And no, he didn't like it. For some reason, on which Satoru couldn't put his finger on, he desperately wanted to know you. He wanted to make peace with you, maybe even be friends with you.

But you seemed so untouchable, he couldn't describe it.

"Well…" Satoru cringed at the sound of his voice. "I have to go to work now."

He stood up and made his way to the door where he made himself ready. "See you later. Have a nice da-"

"Wait, Gojo." Your voice sounded so hesitant, it scared him. "Can we talk later?"

As he looked at you, his whole mind went blank. He felt like he was gonna die. Why did you look at him like that? What did you wanna talk about? Why not now?

"Sure, I can try to come home earlier." He tried to keep his voice steady, but his whole strongest being was shaking in fear.

"Great." you nodded with a neutral look that did NOT scream 'Great'. "Then have a good day at work."

"Thank you, you have a nice day too."

He was going to die, wasn't he?

~

"You look like a corpse." Suguru was always soo considerate.

Satoru sighed as he sat down next to his friend. "Just give me the missions."

His best friend raised an eyebrow. "You know, you should attend the meetings for a change. I'm not always gonna be able to get your missions for you."

"Yeah, you are right Suguru, what would I ever do without you? You are such a good friend." Satoru yawned as he waved his hand.

"Would you please be so kind and enlighten me where I have to be today?"

"I'm going to overlook that sarcasm for today." Suguru handed him a piece of paper. "Here's the list for today."

As Satoru looked at the very long list in horror, Suguru spoke again. "But for real, you look terrible. I thought things were going fine in your marriage?"

"Of course they want me working overtime today." Satoru groaned. "I swear one day I will make all of the higher ups-"

"Satoru, what's wrong?"

He stopped in his rant and sighed. "She wants to talk."

Suguru raised his eyebrow again. "And that's bad, why exactly?"

"Because she always looks like I killed her pet or something like that!" Satoru whined and looked at his paper.

"She doesn't like me."

Suguru shrugged with his shoulders. "I mean, you still didn't apologize."

As Satoru didn't say anything, Suguru continued. "And you also don't really talk to her. How can you expect her to like you yet?"

"Yeah, yeah, you're right." Satoru whispered. Holding his list up, he begged Suguru. "Can you take some of my missions? Please?"

Shacking his head, suguru laughed. "That one time was an exception, I had to work three days in a row for that Satoru. I'm sorry but I have lots of missions too. It's the season."

Satoru just nodded. He had seen this coming.

30 missions in only 12 hours?

It would be a challenge. And it would cause him a little trouble.

But would he give up?

He smiled to himself.

~

You didn't have any time anymore.

The letters of your mother became overbearing, asking where you and Gojo will go for your honeymoon. Asking, that you have surely talked with him about it?

No, you didn't. In fact you were too nervous to even look at him.

You were relieved that he didn't seem to despise you, since he and you ate together now. But he also didn't talk to you and that made you question yourself.

Did he even want to talk?

You needed more time. So much more time. How could they all expect, that you could just sleep with him?

No that just was absurd.

"Mrs. Gojo? How are you feeling today?"

Hina really liked you over the time. Her smile somehow made all of this a bit lighter.

How could you survive a week without her? Just with your husband and the pressure to do something?

"Alright. How are you feeling?" you smiled back, trying to hide your nervousness.

"Perfect, like always." She answered right away, bowing a bit. "Would you like a snack?"

You chuckled a bit. "I can get myself a snack, Hina, you really don't have to."

She shook her head. "Nonsense, it is my job to make you food." She smiled at you knowingly. "And I also get paid for it."

You laughed a bit. "Well, I think my husband will keep paying you even when you make me a snack less."

"If you think so Mrs. Gojo." she made a little curtsy and laughed as she went into the kitchen.

You smiled to yourself as you looked after her. You would miss her on your honeymoon.

Oh god the honeymoon…

~

"Could you please just die?!" Gojo was annoyed as fuck as the curse before him just kept sneaking into barriers and hiding from him.

Normally he wouldn't be this mad.

But he had to be home in time today. And as the curse escaped a crazy laugh at him his anger only rose.

His finger twitched. He wanted to just open his domain and make puddle of this pathetic being. But there were still people near and it would be a bit overkill.

So he had to work with red and blue.

And he had to be fast.

"Gojo Satoruuuhuuuuuu." the distorted voice of the curse spoke underneath him. So smugly, that Satoru felt like laughing.

"Found you."

Hollow purple.

As the cursed energy of the curse slowly disappeared Satoru looked at his list. Still 4 curses in 4 locations. And only 30 minutes till 9 pm.

He had to be faster. Before you would think he didn't care.

If there was just one more stupid barrier, he swore he would-

Goddammit.

~

It was almost 8:51 as you thought you should just eat and go to sleep.

Maybe you would find the courage to talk to him tomorrow too and everything would be fine.

Maybe.

"Should we serve dinner, Mrs. Gojo?" Hina looked at you and waited patiently for your answer.

And as you looked at her something in you switched.

"Wait. My husband isn't home yet, we will wait for him."

Hina chuckled and nodded. She smiled knowingly as she went into the kitchen.

You looked at the clock. 8:56 pm.

You sighed as you sat there. Playing with your glass, you wondered.

Would Gojo even want a honeymoon?

If he didn't, that would be a problem. The higher ups were persistent of you two going somewhere in japan to have 'enough time'.

Your glass seemed to shake, nerarly breaking.

What would you do? What would you tell them? What, what, what-

Forcefully the door opened and Gojo stood there.

A Gojo stained with blood, his blindfold pulled down, looking at you with big eyes.

"What did you want to talk-"

"Why are you bloody-"

You talked at the same time, looking confused at each other. You waited for an answer, as he looked at you confused.

"What do you mean, bloody?" he looked down. Then his eyes widened and he chuckled. "Oh, you don't have to worry, it's not mine."

What did he mean 'don't worry'? He looked like he was out of a horror movie!

Perplexed you looked at him. "Is this all from the curses-?"

"Anyway you wanted to talk?" only now he closed the door behind him.

You blinked at him. Two times. Three times. Then you looked down. "Yeah. But if you are to tired, we can also talk tomorrow -" or the day after, or the day after that day, or…

"I'm not too tired, don't worry." He looked behind you at the empty table. "Did you already eat?"

Just as you wanted to answer, Hina stepped in and took the opportunity to speak. "Mrs. Gojo, now that Mr. Gojo is here, should we serve the food?"

You looked at her and just nodded.

"Well, then." Gojo clapped one time. "We can talk as we eat, right? Then let's sit down."

He took your chair and you wanted to ask what he wanted to do, as he pulled it and offered you the seat. You just sat down and muttered a small thanks.

He smiled, he smiled?, and went to his seat on the opposite side of the table looking at you full of expectation.

Your mind was blank. All the words you so carefully constructed to sentences were all gone. The only thing in your head was the question:

What if Gojo didn't want a honeymoon?

"You waited for me to eat?"

You looked up to Gojo and he smiled at you again. Since when was he so talkative??

"Yeah, I did."

Your voice was much more quiet as you wanted. But he didn't seem to mind as he looked at you with that sparkle in his eyes.

Or maybe his eyes always looked like that.

"Thank you. But you don't have to do that. Most of the time I work much too long for you to stay up and not eat."

"Well, maybe we could still eat dinner together sometimes."

Your mouth spoke without your permission and his widening smile made your head dizzy.

"Your food. We hope you enjoy your meal." Hina placed dinner onto the table bowed a bit and then went into the kitchen as fast as she could.

"Soooooo." Gojo looked down at his food. "What did you wanna talk about?"

"Well…" you stopped, weighing your options of what you could say. Oh, just say it. "I wanted to discuss your honeymoon."

As you looked up you saw two big blue eyes blinking at you. "Our honeymoon? Ohhhhhhhhhhhh"

His shoulders visibly starting to relax as he sighed of relief. A smile forming on his lips again. "Whew, I thought I did something wrong. You had me scared, you know."

"I had you scared?" you looked at him in disbelief. "You came in like a madman covered in blood!"

"Oh, trust me." Gojo leaned back. "That's not nearly as terrifying as my wife, when she is angry at me. She can get really mad, you know?"

You couldn't hide the disbelief in your face and just shook your head. But slowly a smile was forming on your lips. "You're stupid."

Satoru chuckled again and took a bite of the food. Then he looked at you again. "Yeah, yeah. But back to the topic."

Leaning a bit forward, he raised an eyebrow. "Where do you want to go for our honeymoon?"

His voice sounded so casually you felt dumb. "Oh, I don't know. I wanted to ask you."

He tilted his head. "Do you even want to have a honeymoon?"

"What-" panic flooded you as you thought about the higher ups. "Of course!"

"If you say so." he didn't seem convinced but nodded. "But there has to be a place you always wanted to go."

You shook your head. "No, not really. You can decide."

His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward. "Is there no country you ever wanted to go to?"

"No!" you spoke so fast, you couldn't stop yourself from your panic taking over. "I mean- I would like to be in Japan."

He kept silent as he inspected you. And then he sighed. "I have nothing against it, if that's what you want. But you seem so on edge."

You looked down. "Sorry. This…" your throat tightens but you manage to say the words in your mind. "It's just very important."

He blinked at you again and then smiled so softly, you didn't know Satoru could even look at you like that. "It's okay, but if you are too focused on making it perfect, it sabotages itself, doesn't it?"

You couldn't bear his words. The voice of your mother played so loudly in your right ear.

Be a good wife. Be a good wife. Be a good wife be a good wife beagoodwife-

"Would you like to go to a quiet place?" Satoru chuckled to himself. "I wouldn't say no to it."

He looked so sincere. Never before had he talked to you like that. Of course you did have some small talk about his day and what you read the last day, but he seemed so relaxed and like himself right now.

Was this the charismatic Gojo Satoru so many people told you about?

"I would like that." you whispered.

"Hina?" His gaze focused on the girl who quickly emerged from the kitchen. "You and your grandma lived in Shirahama, didn't you?"

She nodded quickly and smiled. "Yes, it's nice there. A bit of the ocean to see and plenty of nature."

She looked at you expectantly. "It's really relaxing, Mrs. Gojo."

Somehow, her shy look made you smile too. "Well, we'll have to go and see it then."

Hina smiled at you with sparkling eyes and bowed a bit again. "You won't regret it!"

"Definitely not!" Satoru laughed a bit. "Then that's settled."

"What-" he looked at his food and continued eating without a care in the world. How could he just carelessly think that that was it?

"But we still have to discuss everything with the higher-ups!"

The atmosphere became much colder along with his gaze. He had stopped eating and his gaze pierced you.

His figure suddenly sitting up straight, his arms to the side, he raised his head.

"Why should I discuss our honeymoon with them?"

The words were caught up in your throat.

You looked down at your food and tried to justify your silence by eating.

"Did you just want to talk to me because of them?" his voice was so much colder than it had been seconds before.

You frantically swallowed your food. "No, I… It wasn't that, really!"

The lies were hard to get off your lips. But he couldn't know about the meetings, no, he simply couldn't!

He was silent. His gaze was lowered and you could no longer see his beautiful blue eyes.

"I wanted to… Get to know you better. We hardly know each other." You pointed to the food table.

"I think it's good that we're eating together now, but that hardly adds anything. I just wanted… For us to have more time together."

When he still didn't say anything, you lowered your head too. "It's just… I thought we still had to organize everything with them? Because of your work and clan duties?"

Gojo chuckled and you heard him looking up. "As if they could fight back. We can just leave."

His voice halled through the room. "And we will tomorrow."

"What?" Shocked, you looked at him. "You can't be serious, can you?"

A huge grin was forming on his face. "You still have to learn how serious I can be. We're leaving tomorrow."

He pulled out his cell phone and typed something. "One of my clan employees will arrange our trip."

"Gojo, we can't just leave!"

"Why not?" he looked deep into your eyes. "Why can't we just say 'fuck them'?"

You shook your head. "Maybe you could, Gojo, but not me! I would disgrace my clan!"

Gojo stood up abruptly. "This is our honeymoon! Your honeymoon! What they think doesn't matter! You're my wife now, those bastards have to respect you! Understand that!"

"It's not that simple." You could only whisper.

He shook his head. "Nevertheless let's go tomorrow. I'll write a letter to your mother and explain that I just took you with me."

He approached your seat. "You wouldn't be to blame."

As if she would think it wasn't your fault. They'd all curse you because then they wouldn't know where you two even were.

But wasn't that what you wanted?

"I'm going to sleep." Determined, you headed for your room. You needed to clear your thoughts.

"We can talk about it again in the morning. And maybe go straight away." He followed you to your door.

"There would be consequences." Something in your voice trembled. "Just running off like that."

And as you stood there, your door to your room already in your hand, he stepped right behind you. His body closer than ever.

Shouldn't Infinity be pushing you back? Why could you feel his warmth, almost feel his breath?

"I could handle that." His hand now held your door.

"I want to get to know you better too."

With that, he let go of your door and left you standing in the hallway, confused.

Taglist:

@zoeyflower @bubera974 @ssetsuka @lady-of-blossoms @peqch-pie

@karlaolea @slut-for-fictional-men @tnt-kokoo @gojoscumslut @sillyfreakfanparty

@tbzzluvr

@emi311 @the-number7 @o-ikawaii @doodle-cat16 @yozora7154

@levisfavoriteteashop @roscpctals99 @starlightglimmersworld @manyuyuu

@dahliawarner @aliisinwonderland @lov3vivian @inthedarkshadows000

@haikyuusimpsblog @sheismaryy @asahinasstuff @honeydew-cheesecake

@sanriosatoru @kimsrie @444na0m1 @humongousdreamlandbear

@elitesanjisimp @dummyf @elernity

@s4ikooo1 @roseyposeylemonsquozey @shitforbrainsmal

@mo0nforme @local-mr-frog

[funkyplantguy]

OOH OOH, Mumbo putting the big ol' bootycheeks on the Cub billboard and then stepping back and looking at his work and feeling kinda 😳‼ about it

CACKLED OUT LOUD READING THIS ASK AND IMMEDIATELY SCREENSHOTTED IT TO SEND TO TWO OF MY FRIENDS. anyway, here's...uh...this! -

"hiya, mumbo, what doin?" "studying." "studying...what?" "cub's ass." "...i'm sorry, what?"

mumbo turned to face the avian, folding his spyglass in on itself with a clean, satisfying schwick. honestly, grian sounded much more confused about all of this than he had any right to be - it wasn't as if he didn't do the same thing with scar. arguably, what mumbo was doing (standing at a respectable distance, using his spyglass to peer into the strange labrynth cub was currently navigating) was much better than what grian did when he was bored. he was going to give scar a heart attack, one of these days, with his propensity for perching in trees and dive-bombing the man the second he stepped within range. so, really - grian had no ground to stand on, not with this. "cub's ass," he repeated, "don't act like you don't watch scar build for hours just on the off-chance that he'll take his shirt off" "that's different," grian grumbled, swinging so that he was hanging upside-down off of the branch he'd previously been perched on. "we've been together for years. it'd be weird if i didn't want to see him naked. cub, on the other hand...i didn't know you liked him like that." "oh, i don't," mumbo dismissed (ignoring the way his heart skipped a beat in his chest at the suggestion), "i'm just bored. and someone needs to finish that sign you put up." "sign?" grian asked, peering owlishly at him. "which...oh, the one in the shopping district?" "mmhm. i should have known you wouldn't do the back - but no fuss, i'll handle it." "i...the back? mumbo, what do you mean? it's a billboard, it doesn't need a back." mumbo chuckled lightly to himself, sliding the spyglass into the pocket of his slacks. ah, grian - always skirting around the issue at hand. typical. "i - hey, don't walk away from me - what do you mean, it needs a back? what are you going to add to it? mumbo? mumbo?" a few hours later, grian had his answer. and mumbo could tell that he was impressed (if the wide, round eyes and gaping mouth mumbo was met with as he glided down from the back of the sign meant anything). scar, on the other hand... "no way!" the shirtless man shrieked, from where he was sprawled out on the grass next to his partner. "you gave him an ass! you gave cub an ass! this is great! oh - mumbo, you've really outdone yourself with this one." "mumbo," grian interjected, glaring down at scar with a look that screamed don't encourage him! "what the fuck." "what do you mean? the sign needed a back. i added one. it's simple, really." "oh man. grian - grian, this guy's down so bad. it's so funny - i should tell cub. i should tell cub - can i tell cub? please? please can i tell cub?" "no, scar, you cannot tell cub - mumbo. mumbo, are you sure you don't fancy cub? i mean...you just spent two hours recreating his ass, for goodness sake!" mumbo hummed to himself, turning to survey the sign behind him and...oh, goodness, he'd given cub a bbl. did cub's ass really look like that? it had to - he'd studied it for hours, diligently, so he could get it just right...maybe he'd remembered it incorrectly? maybe he'd need to go back to the source to examine it just a bit further...

oh. oh.

yeah, okay. maybe he understood where grian was coming from. "hey guys - oh, hey, mumbo. did you...is that an ass?" "yes." "huh. nice. good job." "thanks, cub."

[dreamescapeswriting]

Before The Darkness

☪WORD COUNT: 3.7K

☪GENRE: established relationships, old friends to friends mafia au, purge au, first kiss, i love you, betrayal, fluff ending,

☪PAIRING: Yoongi x Fem!Reader

☪Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - September 2024

☪MASTERLIST

The sun filtered through the curtains of your living room giving it a warm but uneasy glow of everything. You knelt on the floor trying to pack everything you were going to need for the next day or so into one suitcase and Yoongi looked at you with a saddened expression. This year he'd gotten to you earlier than he ever usually did, it was almost 5 in the morning when he decided to come and get you ready to come to his place.

The purge didn't even start until tomorrow at 7pm but you figured Yoongi was just deciding to be a little more cautious with time this year since people got a little wacky in the lead-up to the event.

"Is Cassandra going to be there this time?" You knew his live-in cook probably wanted to be with her family during the purge this year but you'd grown close with her over the years of this happening. The two of you had formed a strong friendship since it would usually be the two of you locked up inside of the house with nothing much to do except talk. Yoongi would always make sure he looked you up in his place since it was like a fortress.

Not to mention no one really wanted to mess with Min Yoongi. The man who practically ran the underworld and everyone knew the name of, he was a household name at this point. His house was one of the safest places on the planet whenever the purge was going down, people begged to be taken there when the purge was happening and he tried to keep his men or his men's family there but there were only so many rooms he could use for them.

"You're not going to mine this year," He mumbled a little just low enough for you to hear him, peeking through your curtains to make sure there was no one outside. All morning he'd been a little more jittery than usual and it was strange to see him so on edge. Someone who you knew was never like that, someone who made things in the dark is scared of him.

Yoongi wasn't scared of anything. That you knew of and you knew everything about him. The two of you had grown up living right next door to each other. Hell, you were in love with him, not that you'd ever admit that to him.

"What are you talking about?" You laughed weakly hoping he was joking but there wasn't even a hint of a smile on Yoongi's face as he turned to look at you.

"It's not safe enough, you're going out of town." You stared at him as he explained it and he made his way over to you.

"But-" You tried to say it was the best place for you to be but he cut you off rather quickly,

"Are you packed?" It was now that you noticed that there were beads of sweat starting to form on his head and you nodded zipping up your case which was quickly taken by Yoongi and then grabbed your hand. You did your best to ignore the jolt of electricity that ran through your body as he did this and followed him outside.

Today he was in his armoured car and four men with guns surrounded it, looking in all directions which didn't make you relax as you realised he must have been hiding how bad it was going to be this year.

There had been rumours that this year was going to be bloodier than usual, that people were going over the top with everything. But that was just rumours. No one would ever dare go against Yoongi, right?

"Yoongi, what's going on?" Your voice shook a little as you reached the car, your eyes lingering on the men who were all holding guns and still looking around as if they were waiting for a threat to come out of hiding.

"We have to go, I can't explain it here...Please," He opened the passenger door and you climbed in as he raced to do up your seatbelt for you. Your eyes landed on his hands and you noticed the slight tremor in them as he tried to help you.

"I can do it." You promised him but he continued to do it until you were strapped in, his eyes lingering on yours before the door slammed and he threw your bag into the back of the car. Silently getting into the driver's side and driving off without a word to you.

After about twenty minutes of driving in silence, you decided to break the ice and figure out what was going on inside of that head of his. It wasn't good for him to be in there alone too long and you knew that.

"Yoongi, you're scaring me. What's going on?" You looked out of the window to see four armoured cars following you, all of them his and your eyes went back to him.

His hands were clutching the steering wheel so tight his knuckles were turning white and he looked as though he was ready to kill someone. Something you'd seen many times since knowing Yoongi.

"It's not safe at mine, I'm taking you somewhere better, somewhere you'll be protected." His hand moved to the gearshift and you placed your hand on top of his trying to soothe him, even just a little.

"I'm always safe with you...you keep me safe." You whispered and he swallowed the lump in his throat. While that might have been true at one point or another it wasn't true now. Now he had no choice but to send you away, somewhere safe that no one would ever find you or know who you were.

"Yn, not this time." He shook his head, his eyes flicking to your hands and he linked your fingers together as he changed gears, keeping your hand with his the whole time.

"You're taking me across state lines, right? No one will know you, or me?" You looked at him as you realised what he was doing. If no one knew you, then you weren't going to be a bigger target.

"I already have a place set up, you trust me...right?" His eyes flicked to yours as he drove and you turned to look at him.

"Always, Yoongi." You nodded at him. Maybe it was wrong to follow him so blindly, to trust someone with his power but you did and you didn't care who knew it. The car fell into silence and you looked out of the window.

You were used to extended silences with him, it wasn't anything uncomfortable and you knew never to push him when he was in this kind of state.

The car's engine finally cut off, and the silence that followed was deafening, you stared around at the forest you were currently in. It was getting dark and you'd been on the road almost all day, your back hurt from sitting in the seat. You'd only made four stops on the whole drive and you dreaded to think how much pain Yoongi was in from driving for so long.

Yoongi stepped out of the car first he walked toward your side of the car and helped you out, taking your hand in his before you walked to the entrance of the underground safe house. His heart felt heavy, the weight of everything finally getting a bit too much for him but he knew he needed to do this for your own sake. He had built this place for moments like these—when the world was too dangerous for you when life was too uncertain. But nothing could prepare him for the storm brewing inside him now.

You looked around, trying to grasp the fact that this remote, hidden place was where you would stay for who knew how long since Yoongi hadn't even told you. You stared at Yoongi and you could feel it—his reluctance, the tension in his words during the drive over here.

"You're safe here," Yoongi said, his voice low and steady, as you both stepped inside the secure space. The door clicked shut behind them, locking out the world and you saw as electric deadbolts locked you both inside. It was almost like the ones in a bank vault, no one was getting through that door unless they owned a military-grade drill or laser - or they were Yoongi.

"No one knows about this place. No one can find you. You're safe." He repeated the words as if saying them were making them feel comforted by them instead of you. You stood there, staring at him, your heart pounding with questions that had no easy answers.

"But why here? Why so far away?" Your voice trembled, barely holding it together. He'd already told you it wasn't safe back home because there was a target but this felt too extreme for that.

"Yoongi, why are you hiding me out here? Please, just tell me." You looked at him and he looked over at you. He'd made a promise years ago to you that he would never hide anything from you.

He hesitated, looking down, trying to figure out how to explain it without crushing you completely.

"The Purge this year..." he began slowly, you nodded you'd heard the rumours of course you had.

"It's worse than before. Bloodier. It's not safe anywhere in the city. I had to take you away from it. Away from the threats, you're a walking target because of me. That house isn't safe but this is." You stared at him and nodded, shit you already knew but it still didn't feel like the whole truth. Not from him.

"But that’s not the full truth." You stepped closer to him, your eyes burning into his as you tried to figure it all out, to understand what he wasn’t saying to you.

"What aren’t you telling me, Yoongi?" His shoulders tensed, and he sighed heavily at you before pushing his hands through his hair.

You were always too smart, too perceptive and he knew he couldn’t hide from you, not now, not ever.

"There’s a war," he finally admitted, his voice flat and distant.

"A war with a rival gang that’s been brewing for a long time. It’s about to explode. And this time... I don’t know if I’ll make it out alive." The silence that followed was suffocating, you felt your heart drop out of your chest and into your stomach as you stared at him. It honestly felt as though someone had shot you. You stepped closer, your hands shaking as you reached for him, taking his hands in yours as you shook your head at him.

"No," You whispered, your voice cracking at the thought of never seeing him again. The two of you had always been together. The two of you were practically joined at the hip.

"No, you can’t leave me like this. You can’t go back there. Yoongi, please... stay here with me. Stay where it's safe," The desperation in your voice cut through him, your trembling hands gripping his jacket as if you could hold him in place, but you both knew you weren't strong enough for that.

"Don’t go," You pleaded, your voice breaking as tears welled in your eyes. There was no way he was just going to walk out on you, you wouldn't be able to live without him around.

"I have to go, my men need me, Yn." He reached out as he ran his hand over your cheek, wiping the tears out from under your thumb his heart shattering at the sight of you crying for him.

"Stay with me. I can’t lose you. I—" Your breath hitched, and you closed your eyes leaning into his touch as you began forcing the words out. The words you'd been holding in for years but desperate times called for desperate measures.

"I love you, Yoongi. Please. Don’t go." Yoongi’s eyes softened at your confession. He looked at you with an intensity that made your heart race, and yet, his smile was weak, a touch of sadness pulling at the corners of his mouth.

he'd been waiting to hear those words from you for years and now he was getting them right before he was going to die?

"You always wait until the last minute," he murmured with a bittersweet smile, forcing out a laugh as he shook his head at you.

"Always late with the things I want to hear most."

"Promise me you'll stay!" You yell at him, shoving your hands on his chest as he huffed a little the air in his lungs being knocked a little.

"Yn-"

"Don't! If you love me you'll stay here!" You threatened him and he sighed at you. He had obligations to his men but he nodded at you. He pulled you close, resting his forehead against yours.

"Okay," he whispered, his voice cracking just a little.

"I’ll stay. I love you too, Yn." He whispers as you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, your tears falling freely now.

"Promise me," You said softly, letting out a shakey breath as you watched him closely.

"Promise you won’t leave me. Not tonight." Yoongi nodded, his hand holding your waist in his grasp.

"I promise," he whispered into your ear, pressing a small kiss to your cheek as he nodded at you.

"I’ll stay with you." Relief washed over you, the tension in your body easing as you buried your face in his chest, your arms wrapped tightly around him.

"It's been a long day, sunshine. We should sleep," He told you as he took your hand in his, leading you through the base in the direction of one of the bedrooms. You took note of everything.

There was a huge living area with a TV and selection of movies, a kitchen big enough to host dinners for an army and then a number of bedrooms but Yoongi continued to walk you until he reached the main one.

It was huge, a king-sized bed in the centre of the room and your eyes flicked to the door that had ten different locks on it to keep people out.

You clung to him as if afraid he would disappear if you let go of him but you crawled onto the bed.

"Don't fight it," he laughed as he ran his hand over your cheek softly.

"You promise not to go, right?" you mumbled tiredly as you snuggled into him. Yoongi smiled weakly,

"I promise." He whispers back to you. Slowly, as the exhaustion of the day and the weight of your emotions caught up with you. Yoongi watched you as your breathing evened out, and you fell asleep in his arms.

Yoongi lay there in the dim light, watching your peaceful face, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your back before his eyes flicked to the time, he could spend five more minutes with you.

When you woke up you whimpered a little, there was a cold chill thanks to the underground safe house. You turned over in the bed searching for Yoongi but your heart sunk into the pit of your stomach the moment you realized the space beside you was empty.

"Yoongi?" You called out, your voice trembling, but there was no answer only further pushing the theory that he'd left you after promising not to. You scrambled out of bed, stumbling toward the door, your feet carrying you through the silent hallways. Each step felt like you were sinking deeper into the darkness of uncertainty, and with every empty room you passed your dread grew.

"Yoongi!" You yelled again, desperation seeping into your voice as you reached the common area. There, seated casually at a table, was one of his men—stoic, calm, flipping through a newspaper as if nothing was amiss.

"Where is he?" You demanded, your voice edged with fear and frustration, you didn't give a fuck what his rank was with yoongi you wanted to know where he was after promising you he wasn't going to leave your side.

"Where is Yoongi?" The man looked up, his face unreadable, his eyes betraying nothing, not that any of his men did. He sighed and stood up slowly as if bracing himself for your reaction. Yoongi had given him strict instructions to let you know he was gone and that you weren't to leave.

"He’s gone," he said quietly. You blinked at his nonchalant attitude already pissing you off. Your mind began reeling as if you hadn’t heard him correctly.

"What do you mean, gone?" You whispered, the words barely making it past your throat as you shook your head at him. Yoongi promised he wouldn't go. He never broke his promises. Not to you.

"He promised me… he promised me he wouldn’t leave. He—" The man’s expression softened slightly, but he remained firm as he looked at you.

"He didn’t want you to worry," the man said suddenly making you scoff at him.

"He wanted to protect you." You let out a bitter laugh, wiping at your tears angrily.

"Worry? All I'm going to do is worry!" Your voice splintered, the pain and frustration bubbling up uncontrollably. You felt betrayed, and abandoned—how could he leave you like that after everything?

Time passed in a haze, and as the week wore on, your fear twisted into anger at the thought of him leaving you and not saying a fucking word to you. You were terrified that he might be dead, that the war had taken him from you forever and you'd only just confessed to one another. And yet at the same time, you were furious at him for leaving you, for breaking his promise.

It had been a week and you had almost given up hope when you heard it—heavy footsteps echoing through the hallway. The commotion and stomping of more than one set of feet and you knew it wasn't just your own lonely guard.

You froze, your heart pounding in your chest, disbelief flooding you as you turned toward the door, shifting out of the covers and watching the door. The handle turned slowly, and the door creaked open.

There he was.

Yoongi stood in the doorway, covered in blood, his clothes torn and dirty. His hair was dishevelled, and bruises lined his pale skin, his lip was busted. He looked like he had been through hell, but there was a smirk tugging at his lips, his dark eyes locking onto yours with a gleam of mischief.

"I told you," he said, his voice gravelly and low.

"I'll never leave." For a moment, relief flooded through you so powerfully that you could hardly breathe. He was alive. He was here. But then the pain, the fear, and the anger came rushing back, overtaking the relief. Gripping the pillow beside you, you launched it in his direction but he swatted it away from his face.

"What the Yn?!" Your eyes narrowed, your fists clenched at your sides as you got out from the bed and stormed to stand in front of him.

"I hate you," You spat, her voice sharp and trembling.

"I hate you for breaking your promise. You swore you wouldn’t leave, Yoongi. You promised." Yoongi’s smirk faltered slightly as your words hit him. This whole time he thought you would have been happy to see him, he was happy to be back here, he hadn't thought about how much it would have hurt that he wasn't here for the last week.

He stepped closer to you, his expression softening, the exhaustion creeping into his eyes.

"Y/N," he started quietly, his voice gentle as he moved to cup your face in his hands but you moved away from him.

"I didn’t want to break that promise. But I had to end this. I had to make sure you were safe." You shook your head, your tears spilling over as you backed away from him, your anger masking the hurt that was tearing you apart on the inside.

"You don’t get it," You whispered, your voice cracking.

"You left me here for a week—alone, terrified that you were dead. I thought I’d lost you forever. I just fucking confessed my love and you were gone!"

"I know," he whispered, stepping closer, his hands reaching out to gently pull you into his arms. You resisted for a moment, your body tense, but when you felt his warmth, the fight slowly drained from you, and you crumbled against him, your tears soaking into his bloodstained jacket.

"I’m sorry," Yoongi murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he pressed his lips to the top of your head, his arms around you tightening as he brought you close. Both of you kneeling down on the floor.

"I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t want to hurt you. I thought this was the only way… I thought it would be over faster. But I was wrong." You sobbed against him, your fists weakly pounding against his chest before you let your arms wrap around him tightly.

"You can’t do that to me," You whispered through your tears.

"You can’t leave me like that. I need you, Yoongi." He nodded his head, his eyes closed, holding you tighter, his heart aching at the sound of your broken voice.

"I know," he whispered. "And I’m sorry. I won’t leave you again. I swear it." You pulled back slightly, your tear-streaked face gazing up at him.

"You better mean it, because I can’t go through that again." He cupped your face in his hands, brushing away the last of your tears with his thumbs and kissing your nose softly.

"I mean it," he whispered. "I’m here. I’m not going anywhere." He kissed your lips softly and nodded his head at you.

"I love you," he murmured, his voice low and sincere. "And I’ll never leave again." You looked up at him, your heart finally calming, your lips curving into a small, tired smile.

"I love you too," you whispered. "Just… don’t make me say it after thinking you’re dead for a week, okay?" He chuckled softly, nodding as he kissed you again.

"Deal." He whispered before kissing you once again, bringing you into his arms and letting you ask him everything about what had happened in the week he'd been away from you.

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[mehiwilldoitlater]

can you do black myth erlang shen x reader please 🥺

It hurts. Please, it hurt. Stop!

Are you even speaking? Spears and swords don't stop to fall over you, and you wonder if you can even feel pain any longer.

You just wanted them to stop.

Those are celestial guards, fighters of the gods, and they have no mercy on the mortals, especially the ones that plan to revive the great sage. And you were so unlucky to have lost your friend.

How could it have happened?! Why was it happening?! They didn't see how already in pain you were?! They keep it going, and they laugh!

You just want everything to stop; your vision is just red and dark.

Then a light strike, and you're not in pain anymore. Ah...so is here where you die? You wanted at least to say something to Yuán Fèn and Bajie, maybe a goodbye...

You didn't get the chance to end your mission. You feel bad, mostly for these things.

///

Suddenly, icy air fills your lungs.

It's sudden and painful, and it's mostly a sign that you're pretty much alive but very much hurt. You can't see properly; your vision doesn't work so well. Why can you see only with your left eye?!

You tried to reach your head with your hands but could sense only the pressure of one of them. Something is attached to your face—just the same sensation on your left hand. 

Gauzes, someone had put some bandage on your face and hand. You still tried to move your right harm, but you can't feel so much; did it fall asleep? 

You tried to put yourself up but met only a wave of more pain in both of your legs. You wanted to scream, moan, or anything, but you could only wheeze, coughing from the dryness. 

Only then you felt something—rushing movements—they were fast and so many. Many small people? Or just one thing with so many legs? You couldn't tell; wherever you were was so dark. The rush of the feet stopped when some more heavy ones got closer to you. Someone had held your head gently, raising it from the cuschion where you were, then something smooth and cold touched your lips, a bowl maybe. 

A liquid started to carefully flow in your mouth, avoiding you to suffocate or spill it. It was... so bitter. It felt awful, but your throat started to feel better. It was warm.

You tried to understand who was tending to you, so you kept looking at the looming figure. Were they talking to you? He seemed like a man by his posture and

No, it couldn't be. It must have been a dream or a sick joke. You gulped, but before you could do anything, Erland had already put you back in your bedding.

///

Oh, how much you wished that was just a delirious dream and allucination provoked by the pain. Tò be just the product of your mind, another of those visions that you had during your adventure.

Instead It was true—scarefully true.

He didn't speak too much; he didn't speak at all. He just tended to your wound, fixed the bed, made you drink that bitter liquid of his, and then went back to... something. He was just there, doing something in that desolated place. 

The house was small, very small; the only objects present there were the bed where you were recovering, some big jars, a small bundle of sheets in a corner, and a fireplace, where usually the pot mumbled and boiled something that you guess he was feeding you.

It wasn't like you couldn't do much in your state; the only thing you could do was just sleep and hope that nothing bad could happen.

And when you didn't sleep, you thought.

Why was he caring for you? He was preparing you for a formal execution? Was he planning to kill you in front of all the monkeys and Yuán Fèn? Maybe hunting you for fun?

Every time those worries started to come into your head, you felt nothing but pure fear and pain. You should have died there. It would have been merciful. 

One day you finally broke that silence, the day you realized that the absence of sensitivity in your right heart was because there was nothing there. One of the soldiers had damaged so much your harm that it was cute off.

You started to panic, to move, and to make sounds that were near a lament. Then you felt something nudging and crying next to your face, pressing and lapping, then something stronger trying to stop you.

"You need to stop; your wounds may reopen."

He seemed calm in his tone, and he kept his composure even when you started to punch him in the chest and get out of him and that place.

"Of you're in pain, tell me. So I can fix it. I have medicines, but you need to calm down."

How could you calm down?! You're hair was ripped off! You kept struggling, moving your stump against him, trying to gain anything, but nothing came to you. He realized the situation and stod up.

"Don't worry, I prepared everything."

And so he revealed, inside one of the big jars, covered in the same strange bitter medicine, your severed harm, that was still moving, imitating the movement that you were trying to do with it.

///

And so, things didn't change that much, except that he was taking your limb in a magic option, and he was taking you the same things to heal your wounds.

He said that, by mortal standard, death was inevitabile, but with that medicine he could save your harm and your eye, which you learned was lost, and he just kept it there. The creepyness of the hole organs in a jar aside, you felt like something was clearly wrong.

He was Erlang Shen! The deity that struck down Sun Wukong! The one that had officially killed him! Why was he curing you?!

You couldn't trust him; you could trust Yaoguais and all but him?! NEVER!

"Came on," he tried to make you drink again the medicine; "without it, your body will take longer and the harm won't stick."

"Firstly," you said, moving the bowl away from your."I'm not a paper doll that you can just fix with glue. And secondly, I don't trust you!"

"If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it already. Instead, I'm tending to your wounds. Is not trustful enough?"

For him, it was more like taking to a child that refused the cough syrup.

You rolled your eyes; he was right—he could have killed you, and the possibility of being dead by his hand still lingered. Your only option was to play whatever game he was playing and try to get the first chance to escape from... wherever you were. By the look of the outside, where are you back to the New West? The snow was its notable characteristic after all.

After another nudge of the deity, you finally took the bowl from his hand and swallowed in one gulp the medicine. Your face produced a grimace by the savor.

"Ugh! It's so bitter...what did you put in this staff?!"

"I don't make medicine. I take it from the celestial court."

That I take it was more similar to stealing it. But, for your own sake, you held your tongue. When made sure that all the medicine was consumed, he hummed, satisfied, and silently sat near the fireplace.

Now, with a better look, you realized that it wasn't a house per se, but a very small temple. 

"Why did you steal someone else's shrine?"

After that sentence, you thought Mayube would hear him complain about your insolence or just to tell you to shut up. Instead, he kept tending to the fire, using a long metal rod.

"I didn't steal it; it's mine."

"Yours?" You seemed perplexed. "It's so simple. I thought you had something a little more."

He chukled a little without diverting his gaze. "I don't want to attract attention."

What a strange man, you thought, and so you decided to go back to sleep. But still, one question needed an answer.

"When I was on the brink of death," you spoke between the sheets. "You were saying something. What did you say?"

He stode silently, stopped in his thought, then spoke.

"That I won't allow you to die."

///

On your surprise, you found out that one of the most tolerable things there was no one else but Xiaotian Quan, Erlan's loyal dog. Despite his scary look, the jaws that could easily rip of your head, and the fact that it was a deity, that dog was everything but pure joy.

You couldn't understand why, but it just adored you, snuggling to you when the fire died during the night, asking for food whenever its master wasn't looking. How could you resist?!

"You're so nice, you know that?"

Every time the god left the house for hunting, something you learned he did on a daily basis for all of your meals, the duty of guarding you, maybe monitoring your escape, was set on the dog. You obliged to stay in its warm, caressing his mantle and scratching his muse.

"You're very cute... I wonder if you feel lonely here. I would be, but I'm mostly bored."

You sighed, turning in the bed. You tried to avoid thinking about your state and all. Erland said that it was almost time to reattach the arm, but you still need the medicine for your legs and eye.

"I hope Yuán Fèn is all right... I hope everyone is safe. Things were getting off lately. Everything is...."

You massaged your poor eyes with your good hand.

"I really hope that Sun Wukong is worth the pain!"

You didn't want to have doubt; you wished that your faith was strong like Yuán Fèn and Bajie's, but everything was so hard. How could they just accept it? And staying there, medicated by the one that had killed that you guys were trying to revive, didn't help at all. That statement...what wnated you alive? What was his game?

Come to think of it, no one ever came to come for you—not a deity, not a celestial warrior, not a Yaoguais. It was like no one knew where you were except for the dog and Erlang. Was he hiding you? But for what reason?

You stopped thinking about it when you heard the sound of a huge deer falling to the ground and the sound of a knife starting to cut the meat. Does it really need to do it right there!? Even Bajie had so much decency to move away or wait for you and Yuán fèn to sleep!

He seemed too concentrated to care, so he kept going with his work and stopping the dog to come to him and try to take some meat for himself.

It was...almost a cute scene... Blood of the poor deer aside.

"What are you doing in this?" You finally decided to break that silence.

"You need to eat, no?"

"No, I don't..." You covered your face with your hand. "I mean this! Helping me, curing me, and all! Why?"

"I have my own motives. Wich, I prefer to keep to myself for now." He said, giving a small slice of meat to Xiaotian, letting it lick the blood from his fingertips.

"And you? You're clearly not cut out for this; what is it that you searching for in this quest of yours?"

"I just want to go home. They said that, maybe, Sun Wukong knows a way to send me back. I don't know if it's true, but it's worth the shot." 

You didn't even know why you admired it; you just said it. Maybe it wasn't such a big revelation in your head; it's not normal for someone to go back to where you belong, even if this desire wasn't so strong in recent days. He hummed and kept on cutting and putting the meat in the pot on the fire, alongside some water. He didn't say much; he just acknowledged it, you thought.

"And what if I can do that and send you home?"

Your eyes widened as you looked at the man who had just admitted that he could have done that from the beginning, like he was just telling you some directions on the road. But then suspects rose again.

"What's the catch?"

He stopped, finally looking at you, straight in your eyes.

"You stop this foolish quest of yours, alongside your friend. Give up the relics, and I'll send you back. No more fighting, a normal life."

You loved your gaze, looking at your still remaning bandage hand. He could do that; he could send you back. In front of you, stirring a suo, there's your way home ticket. And the price...

A fire started in your chest, looking at him with a newfound vigor.

"Are you basically telling me to give up?!"

"Tò surrender..."

"Then I refuse! Me, Yuán Fèn, and Bajie had made the impossible! The sacrifices that we made, what we had accomplished... NO! I will never betray my friends! I'll find my way home on my own terms!"

"And what if Wukong is not able to help you? What'll you do then?"

"Then...then I'll still search for a way! I'll never turn my back on the Destined One, NEVER!"

At this rate, you really started to fear that he could be angered by your stubbornness and loyalty towards your friend; instead, he rested quite, with a small smile on his face.

He seemed satisfied, and I kept cooking while you decided to stay silent after that outburst. He truly was something hard to get...

After a few hours, the same soup was served to you, and... It wasn't that apprising. It didn't smell bad or have a bad smell; it was just so blended with every one of your senses. It was just boiled meat in some water.

"There, eat now. You still need some energy."

You held the bowl, admiring how some good pieces of meat had gone wasted in some hot water with not even vegetables or some actual condiments. You took a sip of it; the savor was more of some dirty hot water, blood that had remained in the pot, and the disappointment of being fed like this.

"Are you sure you're a deity?" 

"What kind of question is this?"

"Because to be one, your cooking skill really stinks. Do you even know salt exists?"

At this point, you really thought that you were done. You gulped a chunk of meat, afraid to look at the face of the man, imagining how enraged he must be after hearing such an insult. You really couldn't keep your mouth shut, did you?! Why did you have to meet all those friendly deities that didn't care about status?! Now you must have angered the ONLY deity that you really didn't want to!

"Umpf, I never cooked for anyone. You try if you're that good."

You raised your eyes and...a pouty child, an kid that his mother had taken away the dough because he was making a mess with the flour. His arms crossed, offended by a remark that was true, by the way, his feet tapping the floor in a sign of nervousness, pinting out that your comment had left a mark on him, and his gaze...fixed on somewhere else in the room, maybe on his dog, enjoying its meal with the head of the deer.

Did you embarrass him?

The next day, he was able to gain some good ingredients. Some chilies, some salts and peppers, even some nice fresh onions. Where did he find them? You'll never know, but you must admit, he was quite good at following your distractions. He was careless and followed every step by your hand, and at the end of the job, he ate the soup in silence, without saying anything after that.

He must have found it quite good too.

///

"WAIT! Wait, wait, wait, please! Can't we ask someone else?!"

"No one will be able to help us. I can handle it; please stay still." He took away from the fire the long and thick needle and the silk string attached to the end of it.

"NO! At least put me to sleep! It's going to hurt like hell!" You tried to move away from the stump, only to be stopped by his hand.

"I could rip off your head; that would be more problematic than harm. I'll be fast, but you must stay still." He removed the bandages from what was left of your limb, positioning the severed arm near it.

You gasped, a small tear escaping your eye. You were scared.

He noticed his free hand handing you a piece of wood.

"In your mouth...you'll need it.". 

///

It was like you never lost it to begin with. The same medicine was now an ointment to apply, and he reattached them to help the regrow of the lost parts. Your legs started to feel better too; you could walk with his help or a cane. Xiatian too was a nice helper in that case, being your support and all when you regain your ability to move.

But you were really bored.

"And what...is this?" He motioned towards the numbers of some mini-Snowman, tall as a doll, that you were stilkl making around.

"I don't like talking to you, so I made some company from myself."

"Ah..." he silently reached you, sitting at your side but never disturbing your work.

"They are people that you know?"

"All of them—me and Yuán Fèn—had met them in our journey. Some of them are good; some of them needed the right way; others are lost."

All of them were made with the same round shape, making them similar, but each one had at least one feature that made it different and special. He pointed out one with some small detail on the face.

"Who's the one there?"

"The third spider sister! She's just so nice, you know? They all have the right to hate us, but she's quite the mediator! She loves poetry, and her dresses are so lovely! I like to talk with her; she kind of likes humans!"

"Oh, the spider Yaoguai...and the big one there?"

"The second prince of the flowing sand. He's sad, but he's always nice to me. I hope he can recover soon with his brother."

"I see...and the destine done?"

"Here!" You held pridefully the small snowman, a stick in his hand, and a happy face. So near to your feet, it must have been the first one you had made.

"You really care for him..." 

"I do! He's my friend! ...a very...good friend." He had noticed that silent spark that screamed to be freed from the bounds of morality and friendship. You too were bound after all.

"Well, they're not perfect, but here they are! All my friends! I hope they're fine."

"And where are you? Where's the Bián huá?"

"Oh...me, eh?... I'm not that cool like them. I can just be the one who makes the funny little snowman."

He raised his eyebrow, noticing how little of yourself you were talking. He raised his hand, moving the snow like a whirlwind. The snow, by moving, was forming a small sculpture with your exact semblance.

"....Show off." You blunter out.

///

"And so, my uncle decided to leave the quarry and let it go."

Your laugh echoed in the small shrine. Erlang never noticed how genuine it was before that night.

"You're terrible! I can't believe they ask of all people but you to take care of Wukong!"

"Well," he said, drinking some wine, "I was the only one with enough power to do so, and..." he chuckled, smiled, looking to the ground, and sighed, "He and I... we were so similar. I know no one could have ever bested me, but him."

The words he said, you wonder, how many times he hopes to express those feelings to someone but never finds the right one? How long he kept those weights on his chest? When he talked, he didn't sound like someone full of glory and of himself for defeating one of the strongest warriors in the universe; he seemed sad, melancholic, and regretful.

"Were you friends?"

"...I guess we were." He then aptted your shoulder.

There, something moved in your head. Everything changed; you were no more on that mountain; the shrine had become a vast expanse of clouds; so many people around you—the same that had hurt you.

There were some... no, they couldn't be the Yaoguasi king?! Why were they there?! And...Erlang...why he's covering his hand?

"You have to go to sleep now; you still need to rest."

And, without being able to express anything, he left you there, asking yourself what you just saw.

/// 

The day passed; your body came back to your old vigor, but something was different that day. The air was thick, the snow was falling, and Erlang Shen, after so many days, had finally started to show more emotions than his natural calmness. He was waiting for something.

"Erlang?" You spoke to him, observing how connected he was in front of the fire. Xiaotian was near him, waiting for something like its master.

"About me... sending you home... forgive my lie, dear one. I do not know how to do that."

You were just reaching him to his small spot, near the fire place that he had started in the courtyard, when you stopped in your tracks after hearing him. What? Was that a lie?

"A...lie?...w-why did you?"

"Many before you came... and all of them were swawed away from this path...but you..." His kind eyes met yours. "You surprised me many, many times here."

It was... a test? He was testing your faith. Your trust in the Destined one? And then again, he kept silent, thinking about these weeks alone with you.

You befriended many Yaoguai, chosen kindness. You, that stode in the center of the storm, still believed so little of yourself.

You were a shining star, not knowing how important you were. You started to be important for many... and for him. But this... this is another story.

"Time is near, Bián huá. He's coming, calling by your bounds and your destiny."

"Wh's co-" you realized. Your eyes started to water, remembering about your precious friend that you never, not even a single moment, had stopped hope he could find you.

"Yes," he smiled at you. "This is our last time together."

"I still have so many questions! I need to know! I...i...." those visions. He was his friend. What did he hide that faithful day?! 

"You'll have your answers... as his own."

Sound of steps in the snow. Someone was running, despite the ice, despite the cold. His fluffy tail, his strong and determined eyes.

Yuán Fèn.

"Keep cover, Y/N. You really don't want to see this fight."

///

That wasn't a fight.

You saw your friend fight—that wasn't one—and you couldn't even say that you were in your right mind because, for the first time, you didn't want a winner, nor a loser.

At the end of the fight, you don't know what happened, but light engulfed you, just like the day Erlang saved you from those celestial warriors.

When the light dimmed, you weren't on the snowy mountain anymore.

The warm light of spring danced between the branches of the plum blossoms; the wind slowly hummed between the trees, the grass tickling your feet. The sound of a creek, the chirping voices of the birds...where you even in the mortal realm. And...he was there.

Your normal gourmet was now an intricate Hanfu, pink like the flowers of the plum trees. He smiled a gentle smile; you questioned if it was real or just a product of your imagination.

"...where....are we?"

"I thought you would like some colors."

He remembered you as a prince and you as a princess, one that wondered if she was supposed to fit in her role. He held your hand, asking you one last time...to trust him.

Slowly, your fingers intertwined together, and there you saw it, another vision...

The truth.

You're hands still together, he held so strongly, afraid to lose these last moments. Your eyes start to water again. Small droplets of tears shined through the light.

"You...you and him...you planned it...all this time you..."

"He was a foolish one...to believe that a status could grant him freedom..." he chuckled, a bitter one like his medicines. "And yet... maybe... I too wanted something like that... yet I never had that kind of courage to do so."

Your throat was close, your legs trembled, and he was there, ready to catch you.

"....You..." Hiccups prevented you from formulating more words, but you couldn't stop. "You...suffered..all alone..all this time..I could never."

You couldn't hold it anymore, but his strong arm girded around you, trying to bring an inch of comfort to your heart. You figured out everything, and what you could only feel now was the immense sadness of his own story.

A friend for him, but a villain for many.

"The Bián huá... meant to change the circle... who could have guessed that even with me, you could find some kindness in the end?"

"NO!" Your hand gripped his white clothes. "You've...you've done it for him! You're not evil! You're not like them!"

He sighed,

sad smile on his face. He revealed your face to the light, caressing the eye that he tended with care. A flower appeared in your hair—a small plum flower, white and pure.

"As I would love to fight him over this treasure... this fight has already been won."

"What...what's going to happen now?"

"My dear, your journey...as his own...is only beginning."

And while everything faded, his lips seemed so soft, like those petals.

He still needs to steal something from him.

///

"I can't understand you! Your plan did work! Then why are you still moping around?!"

After the great fight, only Nezha decided to go and meet the sacred divinity.

"Little brother..." said Erlang in a sad tone. "You couldn't understand..."

The young one looked at his own senior...then gasped.

"Erlang...did you just..."

He didn't respond. He just held that flower and a small statue made of snow.

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[hiraeth-nostalgic]

SO (sorry i was gone i'm back to YAPPING)

who the FUCK is out here thinking reki had absolutely NO growth through the first season of sk8??? I saw a post talking about how even though he is the main character we "never see any development" regarding him and i just need to tell people who believe that: you are wrong.

Listen, reki is the main character™ so let me recount some things for us all.

first thing that comes to mind: when he is experiencing the jealousy that comes from the insecurity of being left behind, but he still shows up to see Langa race Joe. He still calls out to langa, and we see that even though he was insecure and feeling left behind he STILL came to support someone. he then sees that video talking about the guy who created the track shoes that were being worn and thinks it's stupid. that if he can't be at the top of skating, he shouldn't even skate anymore. he should just give up his dream bc a couple people are better than him. He has the talk with his manager that even if you aren't the MOST talented that doesn't mean you can't be involved and Reki still isn't quite there yet. I believe it was Joe who reminded reki that they are all on different levels and reki gets pulled into the beef with Adam. NOW the beef with Adam we see Reki trying to bridge the gap. He wants it so bad. it's not that he's not a great skater, because he is, but i think it comes from the general lack of self-love/self-confidence that held him back for a couple of things. HOWEVER he avoids Adam's moves, he literally JUMPS off the side and FLIPS (something he had never done before!) reki NEARLY wins and he would've if his board hadn't snapped!!! He embarrassed Adam!! something no one else had done!!!

the second thing: We see Reki become okay with not being the absolute best of the best and how he is a great skater, in his own way. (this starts to show in the race with Adam and then at the end we see it REALLY show) sure it may take him a little longer to learn a trick or something but he still learns it. he still loves skating. he redefines his LOVE of the sport not because he's the best of the best but because he actually has a support system in skating instead of before when he had no friends who shared the interest (you know, aside from a previous friend who could no longer skate) and its the story of even if you aren't as great as someone else you know, its still okay to do things for FUN and hanging out.

like this idea haunts all of us. for example: singing? most people are fine singers!!! but because they don't sing like Beyonce or Billie Eilish, suddenly they shouldn't sing for fun bc "they can't make a job out of it" like, the same for reki. Joe, Cherry, and Shadow are all adults who have lives outside of skating but for a CHILD it's the only thing for them at this point in their life, they are still trying to figure out who they are. its crucial to teens. Reki's not getting on a national team, he can't build a career out of actually skating so does that mean he shouldn't enjoy it? no!!! he works at the skate shop, he's really talented at building the boards, designing them, and understanding what will help individual people the best!! that's more than anyone else in the S community that we see actively skating.

Anyway, reki has so much growth in not only his skating but in his mental health but because it's not as flashy as Langa's or Adam's, people overlook it and downplay it.

[twoduelsabers]

aftermath

summary -> qimir has changed since he left the jedi order behind. since he left you behind. but little does he know, so did you.

content warnings -> canon typical violence, near death experiences, angst with a happy ending

no use of y/n. she/her pronouns

the ask -> helloooo! I like to request where qimir x reader were close when they were padawans. but one night they have a pretty bad argument that doesn’t end on a good note. it became messy when qimir left without telling her & he thought she hated him (based of the argument). they meet again but in a fight where she's badly injured by him (accidentally). angst angst angst please but happy ending please. thank youuu in advance ! 💗

"you can't just leave the order!"

she whispered harshly, gripping his arm. she wanted to yell, but the temple garden's weren't exactly the ideal location to do so.

how could he just go away like that? how could he leave her?

"this isn't my path. i'm made for more."

qimir's voice was firm. he had set his mind, and although he was sure he'll miss her, he had to go. he knew that jedi wouldn't approve of his views on the force- he also knew that she shared them with him, but for some reason refused to join his escape.

"i know you are." her voice was pleading, and her hand moved from his forearm to hold his hand. "but this is reckless!"

qimir's gaze fell to their joined hands, and he squeezed them.

"i told you, you can come with me."

"i can't- I can't leave my master, my friends-"

"but you can leave me?" his voice came out harsh, frustration hiding the hurt. he slipped his hand away.

"you're the one leaving!" she snapped, poking his chest.

if it hurt him, he didn't show it. he didn't understand. how could she be so naive? she wasn't free- they weren't free. and they could be, only if she dared to see beyond the jedi teachings.

he had to show her how serious he was about his decision. he grabbed his lightsaber and in an instant cut off his padawan braid. it fell to the ground.

her eyes widened, and she let out a surprised gasp. the braid was supposed to be cut by one's master, during knighting- the most sacred jedi ritual. even if he wanted to, there was no turning back now. and she couldn't do the same. it wasn't right.

"oh, qimir what have you done..." she reached to touch his cheek, but he backed away, stopping her wrist.

"you made your choice."

his voice was cold. he had to forget about her now, didn't he? leave this life behind, leave the order, and leave her.

qimir turned away abruptly, without a single look back.

he left her alone among the neatly trimmed bushes. the temple was silent.

she tried to stop the tears from falling down her cheeks when qimir's figure disappeared from her sight. did she really mean so little to him?

she forced herself to take a slow breath.

this wasn't the jedi way. whatever was it that they had was doomed since it's beginning.

they had both chosen their paths.

she moved swiftly through the narrow hallway, clutching the map in her hand. her breath was shallow. she managed to get rid of all the guard droids, at least that she knew of- which wasn't easy given they were made by the sith. she grimaced at that automatically. her old master definitely wouldn't approve of what she just did. but there it was- her old master. she didn't have a master anymore. she wasn't a padawan.

but she wasn't a jedi knight either.

neither was qimir.

jedi don't steal sith artefacts, do they?

she didn't want to run into any more of the droids again, and so she slowed her pace a little, tapping into the force, extending her senses into the maze of the ancient build. she relaxed a little when she felt small animals in the dark corners, moss, and the exit just nearby- the safety of her ship awaiting.

she was about to resume her journey, when suddenly a dark, threatening presence entered through the half broken gate.

the raw power in their force signature made her shudder. whoever it was, they must have sensed her too. she shoved the map into a secure pocket, drawing her lightsaber, and pulling her hood and mask to cover up her lips and her nose. they were a force user, and she couldn't risk getting recognised.

and then he showed up. she didn't even have time to process what was going on, when a red blade flashed between her eyes.

a red blade.

she backed away quickly, deflecting his strike, trying to assess her position. the stranger was wearing a helmet, concealing his identity, but she sensed something familiar. could that be a jedi? she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

and she didn't have the luxury of contemplating, as another blow almost cut her hand off. he was strong. strong and fast. as they fought she realised that he isn't using a particular combat form- he was unpredictable and aggressive.

that's what gave him the upper hand. he moved his forearm forward, and her blade suddenly broke in front of her eyes. was he wearing...cortosis?

she tried to dodge his blows desperately, and while moving that violently, her mask slipped down to her neck.

then his lightsaber pierced her stomach. a sharp pain striked through her body, and she let out a cry.

but as quick as it came, he withdrew it immediately. there was a change in the air- as if someone flicked a switch.

she fell to her knees in shock, clutching her wound.

the stranger fell to his knees as quick as she did.

took off his helmet in seconds, only to reveal a pained, guilty expression in his dark brown eyes-

"qimir."

she whispered, not believing her eyes. he was alive. alive and seemingly well- surely better than her at least. a bitter feeling tugged at her heart in realisation that he'd be the one to kill her.

"did you find what you were looking for?"

she asked, wincing in pain.

he didn't answer.

"the map is in my pocket."

she choked out. even after he doomed her fate, she couldn't bring herself to hate him. the same way she couldn't do that when he left. coughing, she tipped forward, ready to hit the hard ground, but instead, she landed in his extended arms.

"breathe."

was the first word qimir said to her, his voice strained.

she listened. it wasn't like she had much choice.

qimir furrowed his brows, focusing on her. he couldn't allow her to go. not here. not like this. he still hadn't tell her so many things...

he gently lifted her arms off of the wound that he inflicted, and placed his palm over it.

qimir took in a slow breath, trying to ignore her ragged breath and shaky hands.

ignore her scared gaze.

then he ehxaled, transferring his energy into her body. the gaping hole in her stomach gradually disappeared, leaving only burnt cloth behind.

she looked down at her stomach surprised. she was sure he's going to cut her suffering but-

"i'm sorry."

qimir whispered. he felt so guilty that he didn't recognise her. that he hurt her. more than once. after all that time...her force signature was completely different.

so was his.

"don't leave me here."

she spoke before she could stop herself. she tried not to think about of how pathetic she sounded.

but maybe qimir didn't want an intertwined future now. maybe he still thought of her as a lost cause.

"forgive me."

he pressed his lips gently against her temple, whispering words of apology.

and that gave her the answer.

reblogs appreciated<3

masterlist

[disn3y-land]

*SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 27 XADEN'S POV SCROLL IF YOU HAVEN'T READ I'M SORRY TO MY NON AMERICAN FRIENDS*

I was getting so many butterflies reading chapter 27 from Xaden's pov omg. THIS MAN WAS DOWN BAD SINCE THE BEGINNING. I love Sgaeyl calling Xaden out (multiple times) I was giggling and kicking my feet the entire time.

I ALSO found it interesting how we got a little bit more insight on xaden and liam's home situation after the apostasy, and my jaw DROPPED when Xaden said something about how Lewellen was the one that raised them after the apostasy, and yet in chapter 31 of FW Liam says they were raised by Duke Trivell or something SO YES REBECCA'S RIGHT THERE ARE STILL SO MANY SECRETS XADEN IS KEEPING. why did the king think they were staying with Duke what's-his-face if they were actually with Lewellen? This helps the whole Cat plot point make much more sense if it was all a con, or if Lewellen was pretending to be the Duke guy. I hope we learn more about this in later books.

AND THE THINGS XADEN WAS THINKING ABOUT VIOLET GAVE ME HEART PALPITATIONS THIS MANNN.

HE ADMITTED THAT IT WAS PARTLY/MOSTLY? HIS FAULT THEY LEFT BASGIATH AND FLEW TO MONSURRAT (IDK HOW TO SPELL IT I'M JUST GETTING MY THOUGHTS OUT HERE) BECAUSE HE SAID HE IS AN EXCELLENT LIAR AFTER HE TOLD SOMEONE SOMETHING TO THE EFFECT OF 'THIS WASN'T MY FAULT' OR 'SGAYL NEEDED TO SEE TAIRN SO MUCH WE LEFT FOR HER'

AND I WAS DYING WHEN I READ SGAEYL IMITATING HIS THOUGHTS QUOTE: "Does she miss me? Is she thinking about me? Is she getting closer to Aetos?" AHGFDDHDSHSH SGAEYL THE QUEEN THAT YOU ARE PLEASE REBECCA GIVE US MORE SGAEYL I BEGG

AND HIM ROASTING DAIN THE ENTIRE CHAPTER?? HE KEPT CALLING HIM A DADDY'S BOY AND EVERY TIME DAIN SPOKE HE DESCRIBED IT AS PATHETIC AHAHAHAHA PLEASE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

AND EVERY MOMENT WITH VIOLET?? HE WANTS HER SO BADD I'M PANTING HE'S CONVINCED HE'S THE WORST THING IN THE WORLD FOR HER DO HE STAYS AWAY BUT HE'S SO PATHETICALLY IN LOVE I ATE IT ALL UP

AND WE FINALLY FOUND OUT WHERE IMOGEN WENTT THERE WERE SO MANY THEORY'S AND YES REBECCA CLEARED IT ALL UP SO WELL

AND THE SCENES BETWEEN HIM AND LIAM MADE ME WANT TO BAWL LIKE A BABY PLEASE BRING HIM BACKK I'LL DO ANYTHINGG

THESE ARE JUST MY INITIAL THOUGHTS (I'M 1000% MISSING SOMETHING I FREAKED ABOUT BUT I'M SURE I'LL MAKE MORE POSTS ABOUT IT DW)

[jo-harrington]

Become What You Were Meant To Be (Eddie Munson)

Word Count: 2.4k

Themes/Warnings: Modern!Eddie, Older!Eddie, set in the mid-2010s, fandom lingo, nerd lingo, Star Wars, typical childhood bullying, angst, minor FOI reference, some canon divergence, coming of age themes, probably poorly written and not edited at all

Note: Happy Birthday to one of the backbones of this fandom, who supports and encourages so many of us, whose endless friendship I am so grateful for. Someone who has absolute endless creativity but doesn't give herself enough credit and grace, who is secretly sitting in the background pulling the strings on some of the best stories I've read and I've written. My muse, my life, my world, my cheeseburger. @fracturedarkness

Thanks to @dr-aculaaa for the beta.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

Eddie Munson was a nerd.

Point blank, end of story.

It was one of those badges he wore along with Freak and loser and...well, you get the gist of it. But it was a badge worn with pride. He owned his identity. Wasn't afraid to show everyone he came across who he was.

It hadn't always been that way.

There used to be a time when it felt like the worst thing in the world to be a nerd like that. The kids bullied him because he got overly excited talking about his favorite characters and favorite books that they found boring. They all teased him when he wrote stories about exciting heroes from fantastical worlds in English class, even though the teacher told him that his stories were ambitious and imaginative. And when he spent lunch doodling in his notebook instead of playing kickball or foursquare? Well, you get the point.

"You're so weird." They mocked him. "You're a freak. Draw normal things. Like normal things. Why can't you just be normal?"

It was cruel, in the way that children naively become perpetrators of cruelness. And it made Eddie sad.

Because what did that mean? He couldn't draw normal things, or like normal things, or do normal things. Then he wouldn't be himself anymore.

And that was the point where he decided normal was overrated. Why would he want to be normal when he could be...anything else.

He could pretend he was one of the Pevensies upon a throne at Cair Paravel. Or one of the Ghostbusters. Or a Jedi...

Of course, he couldn't actually be anything else; he was stuck being boring, old, nerdy Eddie Munson.

It wasn't until middle school--you know, middle school, when everyone decides to embrace who they are and become an individual--that he decided being Eddie Munson wasn't all that bad after all.

This epiphany definitely didn't happen after a Hot Topic opened up at StarCourt Mall. No sir. Not when one of the older kids that worked there, sporting armfuls of tattoos and a lip ring, told him the pen drawings on the toe caps of his sneakers were cool. Of course not. And not after he used the last bit of his birthday money to buy a cool band t-shirt and colored hair gel. Pssshhh...

So on the first day of 8th grade, he showed up rocking his dad's old leather jacket--the one that practically swallowed him--jeans that he ripped himself and a poor excuse for a mohawk, ready to accept the Freak label proudly.

He also accepted detention for breaking the dress code.

And a grounding from Wayne for cutting up a nice pair of jeans.

And a buzzcut because he'd done that poor of a job of cutting his hair for that mohawk.

But he'd gained a friend.

Several friends actually.

Ronnie Ecker and Doug Teague. They were both in the same grade as him, and shared many classes. And it might have been a little embarrassing, but a sixth grader named Jeff who told Eddie that he was his hero. That made Eddie feel like he was on top of the world!

They were friends that stayed with him all through high school, and when he repeated his senior year twice, even more joined the mix along the way.

Band kids and science fair nerds and...and...and...

He called them his sheepies, and he their shepherd clad in black band tees and ripped jeans.

And Eddie?

Eddie just got nerdier.

Got weirder.

Dug himself deeper into the pit of stark individualism that the close-minded town of Hawkins didn't know how to react to.

It was glorious.

He listened to music that made other kids cringe and turn away and neighbors complain about the noise; he liked it so much that he made his friends start a band with him. They played at every single school talent show until they graduated; they never won and sometimes people tried to plug their ears, but to Eddie and his friend, their sound and that stage was exactly what their hearts yearned for. To them, the auditorium might as well have been Madison Square Garden.

He started playing Dungeons and Dragons--started a club of his own design, Hellfire--when he found the guidebooks on a dusty shelf at the library. They were seemingly untouched since their initial publication in the 70s, but they were like a key that unlocked something inside of Eddie. Something that he seemed to have forgotten along the way of reclaiming the name "Freak."

Through DnD, the imaginary worlds that he left behind early in his adolescence opened their doors to him once again.

And his friends, his players, never made fun of him for knowing the ins and outs of the worlds of their fantasies. Worlds like Greyhawk and Faerûn.

Worlds like a certain galaxy far...far away...

---

Eddie's re-entrance into the world of Star Wars had been...an interesting one to say the least.

To Eddie, Star Wars meant the original trilogy. Cut, print, sign the check.

When he thought of Jedi, he thought of Luke Skywalker and Alec Guinness as Obi-Wan and a puppet Yoda. And of course he thought of the dreaded Darth Vader.

Yeah he had his books from the library, a whole extended universe with Mara Jade and Jacen and Jaina. But he'd missed out on the prequels growing up; from being a little too young to see them in theaters, to the whole fiasco of his mother's passing right before Revenge of the Sith had premiered.

As he got older, the need to see them just wasn't there, and hearing from friends and enemies alike that it wasn't anything to write home about was the nail in the coffin.

Until he met one Dustin Henderson.

It was the Jar Jar Binks t-shirt he wore on the first day of his freshman year that got Eddie's attention.

"What is that?" he flicked a finger against the graphic as he ran into Dustin and his friends in the lunch line. "Something from that new Star Trek movie?"

Cue a whole rant about the Gungans and the Separatists and an inter-galactic conflict that made Eddie happily fold Dustin and his band of nerds into the protection of the Hellfire Club.

Eddie still refused to watch the prequels, no matter how much Dustin begged.

"I like it when you guys talk about them," Eddie shrugged off the pleas. "Even better when you guys act out the whole fight between Anakin and Obi-Wan. I'd sell my left nut to relive seeing you and Lucas do that in Wheelers basement; it was the best day of my life Henderson, I swear to god. There's no way the movies could actually beat that."

He hasn’t expected that those little idiots would trick him into a movie marathon for Lucas's birthday.

Even Gareth was in on the whole plan. Traitor.

But it was the beginning of the end.

From the movies to the books to the cartoons, Eddie's love of Star Wars was rekindled. He even spent a short stint as a gamer playing The Old Republic on the old PC that was tucked into the corner of the trailer.

And when a new movie was announced, Eddie happily took his nerd-dom to the next level.

Yes, he was the one to suggest they all dress up for the midnight showing of The Force Awakens, but if anyone asked it was Mike.

He spent hours on a stupid Boba Fett costume. It was a different set of skills to the mini-figures he was used to crafting for DnD. He had to think on a different scale. Hot glue and spray paint and too much cardboard. Only to find real cosplayers used foam, not cardboard. His paychecks from Thatcher Tires went straight to the project, until he had something halfway decent for the premiere.

"What?" he laughed along with his friends when they joked about the hot glue spiderwebs that he'd been too lazy to clean up. "It's not like I'll have to do this again; we're not dressing up next time."

Or so he thought...

There was something so magical about sitting in a movie theater, in the middle of December, at midnight, surrounded by other people who decided to dress up for the occasion, and a few dozen plastic lightsabers all lit up.

To listen to the theme, to read the crawl on a big screen, to see the camera pan down into the vastness of stars...

This was what it was to be a nerd.

There was something extra special about finding a new favorite character. Something that touched something deep down inside of you when you saw something of yourself in them.

And Eddie had always been drawn to the villains. Whether in the media he consumed or the characters he created for DnD. He knew why; he wasn't totally oblivious. To be the hero of his own story, he often had to become a villain to someone else.

Besides, villains always had a little bit more fun.

So when Kylo Ren first made his way on screen, Eddie knew that he was done for.

The mask, the lightsaber, the Dark Side of the Force, the anger...how many times had he almost given in to the anger he felt at being mocked and teased. He'd overcome that time and again; what if he'd just given in?

There was also something about being Al Munson Han Solo's son.

Yeah. He could understand the anger there.

But then he was also Elizabeth Leia's son...the conflict.

It took Eddie a few days to get over the initial flurry of thoughts after seeing Force Awakens for the first time. That was when he realized he needed to see it again. And again. A matinee showing on Christmas Eve with Wayne, who he also treated to lunch. The last showing on a Thursday in January. Another outing with the guys, refusing to admit that he'd already seen it a few times between opening night and then.

Thankfully, this time, Mike was the mastermind behind their plans for the next movie as they waited for the previews to finish.

"So," Mike sat up straight. "I think I wanna get an early dibs on dressing up like Poe when Episode 8 comes out."

"I think I wanna try my hand at making an Admiral Ackbar costume," Dustin said with utter confidence, and then turned to Eddie. "What about you?"

It caught Eddie off-guard for a second; should he just say Kylo? Did they expect him to want to dress up as anyone else? Maybe they thought that he would want to be Poe, leader of their misfit group as he was.

"Eddie's obviously Kylo," Jeff piped up. Eddie's head immediately turned to him. "What? Don't think we didn't watch you drool over that lightsaber last time."

"And his ship?" Gareth cackled one seat over. "Fuck the Falcon. I swear, if you could turn the van into something that looked like that ship..."

"Oh my god, you're right!" Lucas cackled.

"Hey I think I could figure out a pretty convincing Snoke," Eddie argued, trying to deflect their teasing, but secretly pleased that he'd gotten exactly what he wanted.

And that his friends knew him so well.

---

For two years, Eddie worked on his costume.

Two. Years.

He was practically a different person by the time of the Last Jedi's opening night.

And yeah his motivation faltered, but he never quit.

It was strange, the need to perfect the costume. He’d almost given up many times. When there was a certain skill he wasn't good at or when he'd felt like it would never be finished. Every time, he felt like that silly kid who everyone just told to be normal. To like normal things.

He was growing up. He was a grown up! Shouldn’t he be passed all of this…silliness? Everyone else in the world seemed to think so, as they put away all the frivolities of childhood. Were they working round the clock and pricking their fingers on needles and burning themselves with hot glue?

Probably not.

Eddie found himself still stuck there, watching a world lose its joy and think that it was normal, and he always wondered if he should try to be normal too. For once in his life. The first time in his life.

But every time he thought about letting it all go, about putting his dream aside...something would come and drive him to keep going.

New promotional images, a new trailer. Especially the ones focused on Kylo himself.

"Let the past die," Kylo Ren grumbled in the voice over. "Kill it if you have to."

That became Eddie's driving force.

He owed it to himself to finish. He owed it to his younger self...not to let his dream die...to keep being weird and nerdy and happy.

"Let the past die," Eddie told himself as he stitched the hem of the tunic the week before opening night.

"Kill it if you have to," he said as he distressed the plastic helmet that he'd ordered, giving it the right amount of realism so it didn't just look like something so fake and commercial.

"Let the past die," his child self muttered, front teeth missing from the day Johnny B pushed him over on the playground because he was playing superheroes wrong. Eddie put a hand on his head and then stepped into his boots.

"Kill it if you have to," his preteen self urged him, self-assured, mohawk looking stupider than he realized way back when. Eddie flicked his ear good-naturedly before adjusting the cape on his shoulders.

There he stood--Eddie Munson, the young man, the freak, the nerd--in his bedroom before the mirror. He was adorned in pieces of foam and layers of fabric from the craft store, helmet tucked under his arm.

But in the mirror itself? There was Kylo Ren...there he was as Kylo Ren. In the hallway of a Star Destroyer, layered in armor and the shadows of the Dark Side itself, like he was ready for a battle with the Resistance.

Ready for the battle within himself.

But there was no battle, and the armor was actually Eddie's skin. This was his real self, his true self. All of his work came to fruition, all of the time and effort that he put into the craft. Not just two years working on a costume, but an entire lifetime poured into becoming an Eddie Munson who proudly wore the title nerd and freak and loser.

The destroyer melted away, and he was back in his bedroom once again. Surrounded by posters and books and drawings, by all of his crafts and his guitars and his endless clutter.

He smiled at himself, feeling lighter than he had in a long time.

Eddie Munson was a nerd, and as he lit the lightsaber and he was washed in a glow of crackling red light, he knew that this was who he was always meant to be.

[harukamitsuki]

"I'm sorry for everything I've done until now."

For a moment, there was nothing. Nothing but the pitter patter of rain striking the ground, coating his weary body, exhausted beyond belief.

Then.

"No."

Izuku watched as Kacchan's head shot up, his eyes wide with disbelief, as if this was shocking. There were no tears left for him to cry, so he settled for taking steps back.

"Y-You don't get to say that...!" he screamed, hands clutching the sides of his head. "For years, a decade, I-I put up with everything! I just watched as e-everyone kissed your feet, as if you've changed at all!"

"De- Izuku-"

"Shut up!" This wasn't fair, it wasn't! Nothing about it! Why!? "You don't get to call me that!"

Why can't anything ever go right!? For so long, he lied to everyone and to himself, pretending he was fine with Kacchan just getting everything he ever wanted. People loved him, despite his violence, despite that damn name, despite being his bully.

Iida reached out, "M-Midoriya-kun..."

He cast a forlone look towards his friend. At least he tried to talk to him more than fight or capture him. At least someone was trying to reach out to him. But then, why did he agree to let everyone come? Why did nobody think that maybe this would be a bad idea?

Why was nobody mad at Kacchan for hurting him...?

...

Oh.

"You didn't tell them, did you?" The realisation struck, and it struck hard. Kacchan- no, Bakugou's eyes widened. Confusion swept across the rest of 1-A, and Izuku knew he was right. "Go on. Tell them. Tell them what you did to me. Why you're apologising. Tell them." Silence. "Tell them!"

He marched forth, anger keeping him from collapsing.

"Tell them how you beat me black and blue! Tell them how you burnt me for the crime of existing! Tell them your advice! What was it: 'go take a swan dive off a roof and pray for a quirk in your next life'? Tell them!"

"You said what." The temperature clashed. Izuku glanced back, and there Todoroki was, cold steam billowing off one side, smoke from the other.

"No way..." Uraraka gasped, fists clenching. "You... You bastard...!" She threw herself at Bakugou, her fist colliding with his cheek. He fell to the floor, holding his reddening cheek, staring at her with wide eyes, as if it was out-of-nowhere.

Izuku looked down, teeth worrying into his bottom lip.

"Midoriya-kun." A hand clasped around his wrist, and he nearly threw the person over his shoulder. But that was Iida's voice. "... I understand that you wish to not return to U.A. Would you like to eat?"

Abruptly, he was reminded of how he rejected Toshinori. How, when his mentor reached out, he kicked off, running without a single explanation.

"..." This wasn't helping. He's just going to be too exhausted to fight back. "Y-Yeah..."

"Everyone," Iida faced the others, tired though he didn't fight much, if at all. "Please return to U.A. We shall look after Midoriya-kun."

Kaminari bristled, "B-But-!"

"Kaminari-kun." Yaoyorozu held her hand up, arm stretched in front of Kaminari. He paused, then stepped back, head low. She turned to them with a smile, "Of course, Iida-kun. Take care of him for us."

"We will," affirmed Uraraka, as she and Shouto walked to his side.

Safe. Surrounded by three of his friends, he felt safe.

It was enough for him to fall, and it was fine.

His friends were there to catch him.

[ahotmesswithprivilege]

Happy Ever After - Chapter 5

paring: Jake Seresin x female!librarian!reader

wordcount: ca. 5800

synopsis: When Javy signed up his best friend for a dating website it was quickly dubbed the "stupidest idea in the history of fucking drunk fever dream ideas" and none of the Dagger Squad had expected it to lead somewhere, let alone to Hangman entering a museum on his own volition. That's where he'll meet his chaotic librarian for the first time and even though things are not as they seemed, he is happy that they are the way they are.

note: I had an outline for a scene in the museum including a bunch of infodump rants about different pieces but I couldn't bring myself to write that so yeah 🤷🏻 That's why I cut it and because I thought that it would have been more filler than anything else. I hope you still enjoy the slow pace this is having. Now we can enjoy those two idiots (very affectionate) trying to figure out how to communicate and how to be around one another. Much fun.

And if anyone knows someone who is more graphically capable who would like to help a girl out here, I'd greatly appreciate the pointers or else I'll probably use the same 3 gifs every chapter XD

Trigger Warning (for the entire series. Things can be added over time. If I forgot something or you want me to add to the list, my inbox is wide open. You are responsible for your media consumption, proceed with caution, you know the drill): kind of arranged date situation, talk of mental illness (depression and suicid*l ideation are mentioned specifically here) and disability, disabled!reader, plus-size!reader, service dog, accessibility issues, body shaming (self and others), self-deprecation, cursing, non-canon (not even sure if this is canon compliant so, take that as you will), nsfw/smut (later chapters), written by a non-native speaker, not beta read, reader is addressed by her nickname Belle (she's got the books, she's got the beast and she's got the kind heart), probably classifies as soft!Jake Seresin but you'll be the judge of that.

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Taglist is open. Please come to my inbox and specify if you just want to be on for a specific character/series or everything

!!!Minors do not interact! I block blank blogs/without age/Minors!!!

Jake is not surprised when he sees the chain with the dog tags around the guy's neck, but he sure as hell is disappointed. He wasn't above pulling rank on other people on base or putting the fear of god in some idiot at the Hard Deck but he drew the line at women and children. He swore an oath to protect this country and its values and harassing innocents was surely not part of that. But on the bright side of things, his rank at least shut the guy up for long enough so security could get their act together and get the man out of the building.

He heaves a sigh, muscles relaxing as he turns back to check in on you but you are nowhere to be seen. Eyes flittering around in panic he’s searching for you until he sees you sitting on the floor in a small alcove next to a bust of some 18th-century moneybags who probably donated big time to the museum or something along the lines. You are resting your head against the marble wall and your service dog sits in your lap, his head resting on your shoulder while your fingers are buried in his fur. When he stepped a little closer he could see the marks of tears running down your cheeks.

Fuck this was bad and he had no fucking clue what he was supposed to do right now. It's not like there was a protocol he could follow or points on a list to cross off. At least none he was aware of. His focus had been all on you when he heard muttering and as soon as he looked back over his shoulder, he saw people who had gathered, staring at you, one even having her phone out. She wasn’t really filming you, right? God, why were people like this?

He straightened his back as he turned around, making sure that he was towering at his full height over them as he walked towards them. "Ok, people. Party is over", he spread out his arms, almost herding them away from you, following the woman with the phone. "Ma'am", she froze, the guilt on her face surely showing that she knew that she had done something wrong. "I want you to delete whatever footage you have taken right here and I will have to insist that I see the proof", he's in full-fledged officer mode right now and considering the look on his face it was no surprise that she just dropped the phone in his hand. After deleting the video and checking if there were any more, he handed it back to her. "I am trusting that this is not saved in some cloud. If it is, you better delete it. If I see it online I will have no qualms about finding you and holding you accountable for it, have I made myself clear?", his voice is dripping with authority. "Yes, Sir" "Good. Have a nice afternoon, Ma'am", he nods at her before he turns around and his focus zeros back in on you.

You still hear the blood rushing in your ears and your heart hammering in your chest when you feel Vakarian manoeuvring you back against the wall and you just follow. He knew before you even realised how lightheaded you were after this shit show and so he brought you to a safe space to sit down. You plop down on the floor, the cool marble against your back is a nasty feeling, but you have bigger problems right now. Vakarian gets into your lap, putting his weight on you and resting his head against your shoulder. It was not as comfortable as him laying on your chest but considering where you were, sitting was the much better option. Your fingers automatically start tangling in his fur, petting and scratching him to calm your heart rate and slow down the racing thoughts in your brain.  

Hangman watches the scene, trusting that it's not the first time your furry companion has done this and the longer you sit there, the more your breathing evened out. He crouched down in front of you, strategically placing himself in between you and the room full of people to make sure that all someone could film now was his backside and when he saw you move your head as if you start taking in your surroundings, he couldn't help the wave of relief washing over him. "Is there anything I can do for you, Ma'am? Someone to call?", he asked, that charming smile on his lips and you just shook your head.

Now that your breathing had calmed down Vakarian got up from your lap and pulled the emergency water bottle from your backpack to drop it in your lap. Even after 6 years of him by your side it never fails to amaze you how good he is at this. God, you were thankful to have someone like him by your side. "Thanks", your voice is really rough and raspy and you need the drink if you want to even get a single remotely coherent sentence out of your mouth.

You take the bottle and open it, that's when the light catches on your ring Jake cannot help but stare. The silver ring on your left index finger, the perfectly manicured red nails, the sunglasses you wore even on a rainy day inside the building... "Belle?"

Your eyes shoot up to meet his for a second, the intense green gaze makes your eyes flitter away again and you look for something different to focus on and choose the silvery metal of his dog tags. And then you nod, gulping down some water before you close the bottle, nails nervously clacking against the plastic.

Jake is utterly perplexed but the more his eyes are wandering over your frame the more puzzle pieces fall into place. The shirt that stretches over your chest reads "Save some brain cells. Read a book", you always said that you carry too much shit around and you showed up with a backpack that is stuffed to a degree it barely closes. It all makes perfect sense.

It is right there when you see how shocked he is that it dawns on you. You never told him. You remember thinking while writing that first answer that you should let him know he'd meet Vakarian anyway because he's your service dog. But you didn't and now he's not only here meeting a woman he never saw before but also a woman with a disability he did not sign up for. And you lied to him. Well you didn't lie, you just didn't give him all the facts, but at the end of the day, it's the same.

"I'm sorry", your voice is quiet as your gaze moves from his chest down to the water bottle, nails drumming a rhythm against the plastic. "I wanted to tell you in my reply to the first message that you'd meet Vakarian no matter what because he's my service dog, but I got so carried away that I forgot. Usually, I double and triple-check everything but this time...", you are trailing off and Jake can see how much this weighs on you. "This is not what you signed up for, so I could...", you begin but he shakes his head and places his hand over yours, forcing your eyes back up to him. "It's ok" "No, it's not. First I don't send you a picture and then..." "Belle stop", his voice is soft and it brings tears to your eyes to think that this wonderful man was here because you strung him along by withholding crucial information.

"You are the woman who wrote to me, right? The woman who asked me to come to the museum with her to see the riad they rebuilt here. The woman who wrote me a borderline essay-length message on the nightmare that's resizing those patterns for the adapted scale. The woman who checked in with me if I needed a transcript of the first voice message she sent in case I couldn't deal with the audio. The woman who argued for two hours with a homophobic asshole about his inquiry to ban a children's book about a gay bunny and when said book magically disappeared you not only bought a new one out of pocket, you made a bulk order for the English and Spanish version you probably spent almost a month's wage on to bring it to your library and others in the area", you nod as you stare at him with wide eyes. You never really told him the last part. Well yes, you said that the homophobic ass was annoying and you sent him a picture of you unpacking the order and said you couldn't wait to donate them, but those were small snippets, more footnotes than part of the real conversation and yet, he not only noticed but it mattered enough for him to remember. "Good. Because that's the woman I came here for", his smile is blinding and you feel how he gently squeezes your hand and you choke up again with tears in your eyes.

"Come. I'm gonna bring you home", his voice is soft and when you look up at him like a deer caught in headlight and shaking your head he stops in his tracks. "You already got the tickets", you point at the exhibit guide and the tickets he used as a bookmark on the floor next to him.

He came early to have everything prepared because this mattered to him. Meeting you mattered and that asshole and your brain had to fuck you over like that. "You'll be surprised but they actually sell these", he points behind him to the counter and gives you a wink. It's his attempt at making a joke, at lightening the mood knowing this was something that not only weighed on you because of the asshole who had cornered you but also because you felt guilty for everything that happened before. "But..." "Belle two museum tickets are not gonna break my bank account. I'll even manage two more this month so if you need the break after what just happened, then I'll gladly bring you here again when you feel like you are ready"

You take a deep breath and check in with Vakarian who is lying right next to you. Most of the time you cannot feel what's going on with your body before it's too late, so he is the best way for you to gauge where you are standing with this. And he seems calm, almost relaxed with his head on your thigh.

Jake follows your gaze and sees the way you study your dog. He doesn't know what you need help with exactly and what the dog can do for you, but he does know that he's a lifeline to you, so he waits there calm and quiet until you focus back on him, eyes glued on his dog tags.

"I'm fine, Jake. And I don't just say that because I really really wanna see the exhibit with you", your fingers are tangled in Vakarian's fur, scratching him right behind his ear the way he loves it most, prompting him to thump a hind leg onto the marble floor and it makes you chuckle. "He wouldn't be like this otherwise", and that's when Jake realises that your dog is not just for crowd control and to calm you down, but he's your barometer. He's the indicator that tells you how you are doing, so Jake makes a mental note to check in with your furry companion on the regular while he's around. "You sure" "Yeah. Never trust me with anything I say about my state", you smile gently as you look back down at Vakarian,"But the floof is always right" "Good. Anything I need to know? Any rules to play by?" You ponder for a moment before you look back over to him, your eyes not meeting his. "All in all you did pretty stellar so far. Let Vakarian do his thing, make sure no one bothers us and I do have a tendency to ignore his alerts because I think it's not that bad and then I crash so it would be nice if you could give me a pointer" He nods. "Any boundaries to keep in mind?" You bite down on your lower lip, attempting to find a way to put things into words without sounding like you don't want to be here with him or you try to push him away. "Touch can be difficult, especially with people I don't know well. Also, people getting too close in general. Vakarian is really good with crowd control, but sometimes", you shrug," And eye contact is difficult. It's one of the reasons why I wear the shades. That and the fact I feel like someone is pointing a stage light right in my face if I don't" The more he learns, the more he realises that this will not be a normal date and pretty much everything he's ever learned about those is worthless around you. This is a whole new adventure and it's as exciting as it is daunting and he had never been the kind of man to back down from a good challenge. "And it might take a bit until I can answer a question or that I have to ask if I got something right. It’s not that I don’t care enough to listen or ignore you. My brain just has a tendency to run 100 miles an hour with 10 different trains of thought and I struggle to keep up sometimes" "Good. I'll try my best to keep these in mind", he says, giving you a gentle smile before he gets up from his crouching position and reaches out his hand to you. An offer you know he wouldn't fault you for not taking but you miss the feeling of his large hand taking yours, so you take it, even if it makes you a bit uncomfortable too, setting off a whole new train of thought full of doubts that you had no business having.

Your legs are a little wobbly when you get back onto your feet, causing you to crash into his chest. "Careful Belle", he whispers and you cannot help the flush on your cheeks as you hold onto his arm and the other hand pressed flat against the plains of his abs. You take a deep breath while your eyes wander over his face. With your sunglasses on you feel safe enough to do so. There is no social norm or expectation of how long it is appropriate to look if he doesn't even know you are looking, right? "Didn't have a chance to wear these in a while", you point down at the boots with the cuban heels, "I'm usually more of a hiking boot kinda gal"

Jake nods, thankful for every little puzzle piece he finds out about you. His eyes wander from your feet up your calves, over the poofy circle skirt you are wearing up the shirt with the quote and the cute owl with glasses that holds an open book over your neck and stops at your face. He wished he could see your eyes, wondering what colour they are and if you are eying him up too. If you like what you see now that he's right in front of you in person. The thought of you in hiking boots makes him smile and he hopes that he'll get a chance to see you wearing them. Maybe when he takes you out on that beach stroll he offered way back when. "I am glad I could help with that", he gives you a smile and for a moment he wonders if you zoned out but a short glance down to Vakarian tells him that you are ok. Just quiet.

You see the way his eyes go down to Vakarian and you can't help but beam. Other than with Kelly you can't remember the last time meeting someone went this smoothly.

The moment you step back to untangle yourself from Jake he feels an unease creeping up his neck. He liked the way you were pressed against him, the feeling of giving you stability and an anchor to hold onto. The feeling of being needed, but he remembered that you had trouble with touch so he promised himself to reign his hands in more from now on. You were the one who'd decide the pace for this and he'll wait patiently for you to feel more comfortable around him.

You had shared a locker to put your jackets away before you picked up your backpack. "I can take this for you", he offers, knowing that by the way you handle it, it's heavy as fuck but you just shake your head. "I'm fine, but thanks" The southern gentleman in him finds it difficult to accept the answer but he respects you too much to insist. You've been mindful of his boundaries so far, so he'll honour yours.

Side by side you walk up to the entry, Vakarian following you like your own shadow. You wait patiently for your turn and Jake hands over your tickets when the guy is eying you up and down in a way that makes your skin crawl. "Backpacks of any size are not allowed inside the exhibition. I have to ask you to put this in a locker", he states, making your hands tighten around the straps. Not again... "Those are the essentials for me and my service dog" The guy wants to say something and you are making yourself ready to argue but then he looks behind you and for whatever reason he steps aside. That's when you feel his warmth and when you turn around you see Jake, his formerly stern stare morphing into something much gentler as he looks down at you. "Let's go. The riad is waiting for us"

You walk up the stairs and Jake sees your skirts swooshing right to left with every movement as he follows until you suddenly stop in your tracks and turn around, skirt flying and forcing him to stop too, which means he takes a moment to find his footing. “Sorry”, you apologise immediately, hands reaching out to help him stabilise. But the moment you realise what you did you pull your hands back, looking down at your fingers as if you did something wrong. As if you overstepped. “It’s ok, Belle”

There is a pause, people making their way around you as you stand there in the middle of the stairs. “We need to talk”, the words are heavy in the air between the two of you and he’s not sure if this is you telling him that you need to go home or if you didn’t want to be on this date but no matter what, his heart sank at the thought that he’d have to let you go so soon. “Of course”, you nod at him, walking up the last few steps before you head over to a stone bench, place your backpack on the ground and sit down waiting for him to take the seat next to you and Vakarian lying down by your feet.

“You said it’s ok that I didn’t disclose my disability from the start” "And I meant it, Belle. You don't owe me anything, least of all sensitive medical information", he cuts in. He doesn't want you to feel like there is anything in this relationship, whatever it might grow into, that you are forced to do. "I know, Jake but...", you begin and he’s fully ready to repeat his stance time and time again until you believe it, but when he saw the way you turned your ring, eyes glued to the shining silver, he held himself back. He doesn’t see Vakarian alerting or anything but that doesn’t mean that this is not difficult for you. "I've had too many people in my life tell me that if only they'd known from the start, they wouldn't have bothered", the pain in your voice hits him right in his gut.

"So, full disclosure. I am an AuDHDer, which means I am autistic and I have ADHD because one wasn't enough I guess. The autism diagnosis means that social interactions are difficult, so is sensory input", you tap against your shades and then point to your earplugs, "and then there is repetitive behaviour. I sometimes repeat words or phrases from conversations or quote any form of media and I love to listen to the exact same song for days on end, quietly saying the lyrics the entire time and without my headphones I cannot leave the house period" Your eyes are glued to your ring, fingers turning the silvery metal. "That's one too. It helps me focus and deal when it feels like the world is collapsing onto me", there is a smile on your lips but he's pretty sure if he'd see your eyes, that smile wouldn't reach them. "The ADHD diagnosis means that I cannot regulate my focus. It's either I cannot do it no matter how much I want to or hyperfocus kicks. It feels like falling down a rabbit hole and the world around you stops existing. Can be 4 hours, can be 14. It's one of the many things he's helping me with", you nodd in Vakarian's direction. "I am also dealing with a recurrent depressive disorder caused by my late diagnosis and I've dealt with suicid*l ideation in the past, though that hasn't been an issue for a while. All in all, I am pretty stable with medication, but that doesn't mean my brain is magically neurotypical. I am still wired differently and that means that I have special interests I obsess over to a degree neurotypical people would never. I forget things I don't want to forget or I am late for events because I fell down another rabbit hole or I cannot do things that are paramount that they get done and then I panic and have to do them late", you heave a sigh before your eyes wander back up to him. "And it means that I take things terribly literally. You say something and for me, it reads like you mean that thing even if you only consider it as a joke. As someone who's dealt with my bullshit for three decades give or take, I can tell you there are days when it gets really exhausting and there are many of them, so. Now you know", you meet his eyes, for a moment before your eyes flitter to the place between his eyes.

The silence between the two of you grows and you start wondering if that's the moment he'll get up and leave. It's not like you'd fault him for it because you knew better than anyone else how hard living with you was and you were yet again glad that you could hide behind your shades so he wouldn't see the tears that were glittering in your eyes.

He took a deep breath and you waited for the words but instead, he asked you. "Can I take your hand, Belle?" Your eyes widen in shock, eyes finding his green ones trying to figure out what was going on in that mind of his. You nod but he doesn't move. "Please use your words, Belle", his voice is gentle and you cannot help but keep looking into those green eyes that are so focused on you and every move you make without making you feel uncomfortable. He wasn't gawking, he was only trying to read you right, to make sure that the communication between the two of you was going ok. At least, that's the impression you got. "You can take my hand", your voice is barely above a whisper and then you feel his hands wrapping around yours. They are much bigger and stronger than your own and for the flicker of a moment, you wonder what these hands have done in their life. How many lives did they take and how many have they saved in return? But then you feel the gentle squeeze of his fingers and your focus is right back with his eyes.

"I still don't believe that you owed me any of that information, but I appreciate your honesty", his eyes were flittering around all over your face and body, trying to gauge the situation. You had just bared your soul to a man who is as good as a stranger to you because you felt like you had to. Because people made you feel like it was your responsibility to accommodate them without getting any of that courtesy in return and it made him so goddamn angry. "And my point still stands. I came for the woman I wrote with in the past week and I want to have a chance to get to know her better. That is, if she'll have me?" He's asking that question not because he doubts that you want this, that you want to see the exhibit and you want to do it with him around, but because he wanted to give you the power back, to enable you to make the choice. Seeing you feeling so small made his heart ache and this was the only way he could think of right now to remind you of the power you actually wielded.

You let the words settle in. It takes a while but it makes you smile nevertheless and that smile is Jake's great victory of the day. "Good. And the moment..." "The moment I stop wanting this I'll let you know. But the same goes for you Belle" "Promise?", you lift your free hand and offer him your pinky, a small chuckle rumbling in his chest. He couldn't remember if he ever swore a pinky promise in his life. But there was a first for everything. "Promise"

You feel like you are on cloud nine when you put the key in your lock. Jake had been the perfect gentleman to the very end and on top of that, he actually wanted to see you again. It was hard to believe that even after all the ranting and the things you told him about you he chose to stay. Not many people made a habit of doing that and it thrilled you to think that someone you've actually grown to care about does. When you open the door you are still completely caught up in your thoughts as you walk down the corridor and are stopped in your tracks by a moan.

Automatically you close your eyes before you say. "Please Kelly, tell me I didn’t walk in on you fucking your girlfriend on our couch" There are shocked gasps followed by chuckling and giggling. “No. I didn’t fuck her”, Kelly replied and she could practically see you roll your eyes under your shades. “Is it safe to look or would I need to bleach my eyes afterwards? No offence Natasha” “None taken”, you can hear the way she’s holding back her laughter. There is a bit of shuffling before you hear Kelly's voice again. “You can look now”

You still see the dishevelled look of them both, clothes not quite where they are supposed to be, hair a tousled mess from fingers running through it and swollen lips. Yeah. Those two had very obviously ignored whatever they were watching in favour of getting lost in each other. “How was your date?” “It began with a guy yelling at me to get my mutt out of the museum before he went on to tell me that I'm not disabled and just faking. You know the drill ” Kelly’s heart gets heavy. She had seen you struggle with the same prejudices time and time again and it’s exhausting to watch. She doesn’t even want to begin to imagine what it feels like to deal with that bullshit every day of your life. “Oh Belle…” “But at least for once, someone stepped in”, a small smile plays on your lips as you take off your shades and place them on the kitchen counter. “It was a full-stop knight in shining armour moment, he even pulled his rank and all…”, you remember the snippets of what happened. The way the warmth of his body behind yours felt, the way he put that asshole into his place, the way he got himself between you and the guy to shield you. “Belle?” Kelly’s voice pulls you back, realising you’ve been playing with your ring the entire time and staring at the silver that is wrapped around your finger. “Sorry” “And who was your knight?” “Jake, actually. He didn’t know it was me when he stepped in but he recognised me afterwards. Like I didn't even have to introduce myself. He never saw a picture of me and yet he knew it was me just by what he learned about me from the messages…”

You are drifting off into memories again and Kelly knows, so when she feels that her girlfriend wants to say something she puts her hand on Natasha's arm and shakes her head. You need time to process first. “Good for him”, she says, leaving you a bit more space to sort out your feelings before you look over to them on the couch again. “I’ll tell you the rest tomorrow ok?” You know you don’t have to ask. Of all the people you’ve ever met Kelly was the one who was the most supportive, the one who not only respected your boundaries but helped you enforce them even when you couldn’t. “I’m marking it down as a hot brown beverage date”, she winks at you and you nod, making your way over to your bedroom, your shadow glued to your side.

“What do you know about the guy she’s seeing? Other than that his name is Jake?”, Kelly looks over at her girlfriend surprised. She knew that Natasha cared about you. Cared a lot actually and to see her this alarmed made her pause. “She said he’s Navy, stationed here at North Island like you” Natasha’s heart was slamming against her rib cage. This couldn’t be. Of all the singles in fucking San Diego... “You know his last name?” Kelly shakes her head. “You know how bad I am with names. Took me long enough to learn yours” “His username?” Kelly thinks for a moment feeling how her own fear is seeping in. Since she met Phoenix she hadn’t seen her that worried. Like ever. “It was something weird but I can check”, she picked up her phone and pulled up the app. You had never bothered with changing the password and when she scrolled down the messages she found his. “Here we got him. Lieutenant Jake Seresin and his username is” “Hangman”

Kelly looks up in surprise and tilts her head. “How do you know?”, she asks while Natasha is shooting up from the couch, she undoes the updo that had become second nature since she started military training. Running her fingers through her hair she starts walking up and down the room, pulling on her roots. This couldn’t be fucking true. “Natasha what is going on?”, her behaviour alarmed Kelly. Did she know something about that guy? “It’s fucking Bagman of course it had to be”, she growls, so pissed at herself. She should have asked from the moment Kelly said he was military. Should have asked more questions when she saw Bagman sitting in their commons room with the website for the Islamic Art exhibit pulled up. He wasn't the type for it and he also wasn't the type to go for people who did this. It was a major red flag and she had just put it off as something to laugh at. "What?" "Seresin's callsign is Hangman, I just call him Bagman"

Kelly gets up now too. Phoenix had told her about everyone in her squad including Bagman, the cocky asshole who was too pretty for his own good and loved to pick up a new tag chaser every night at the Hard Deck. “I cannot imagine that your Bagman and Belle's Jake can be the same guy. She described him as patient and kind and funny…” Natasha gives her a look to stop her right there. “You remember when I told you that Coyote had the stupidest idea in the history of fucking drunk fever dream ideas and how pissed I was that I let him rope me into it?” “Yeah” “He made Bagman a profile to shut up his whining about how no one ever really loves him”, she’s throwing her hands up in the air and really wants to scream but she can’t. You’d be here in a matter of seconds and she’s not in the right mindset to explain to you why the guy you went on a date with is not worth your time and effort. “Oh my god”, Kelly’s voice is a whisper and Phoenix can hear Jake’s voice echoing in her ear ‘No darling. You can call me Hangman’ and it makes her wanna throw up. “You have to tell her Kelly. He’s a playboy and serial tag chaser fucker. That guy hasn’t had a serious relationship since high school and that would mean you are generous enough to call high school relationships serious”

Kelly is fighting hard with herself. She wants to protect you, even more so than Phoenix. You were her sister, not by blood but by choice but she had seen you in the past week and you made leaps past anything she could have ever imagined. You were actually happy. Like honest to goodness that man made you smile and it felt cruel to take that away from you before it even had a chance to start. “No Kells” “What?” “I know that fucking look on your face. It’s the everyone deserves a second chance kinda look and I tell you right here right now that Bagman is not a man who does" Kelly is arching her brow. Of all the people to give her a line like that it had to be her girlfriend? Phoenix, the one who rose from the ashes of her own disasters? "You know why we call him Hangman?" She leaves a pause, walking closer to look straight into her girlfriend's eyes. "Because he'll always hang you out to dry. It doesn't matter if it's in the air or at the Hard Deck, he'll do whatever it takes to get that kill, sacrifice everything under the sun, holy or otherwise, to get the pat on the back for completing the mission" Kelly's eyes widen at those words. Never before did she hear her girlfriend talk about a squad member like this, not even Bagman. "If you put your faith in Jake Seresin you are fucking lost and Belle deserves better than that"

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[randomized-sims23]

Aftermath Of The Attack

(small spoilers for yesterday's SAMS episode, also have a follow up fic to the event (could also be considered a followup to this one))

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Sun was at the house playing with Jack, Dazzle and even Molten had joined in with them, when he heard muffled shouting near the door. Looking up he saw Monty and Solar. Monty was carrying something that he quickly realized was Moon.

As he stood he asked Jack, Dazzle and Molten to go up to their room for a bit, the three agreeing and going up as Sun went to open the door.

“Monty? Solar? Moon, what's going-”

“Ask questions later, move.”

Sun stepped back as Solar and Monty rushed inside to the couch, Sun following.

“Guys what's going on?” He stopped and looked down at Moon.

He was curled up tight, the back of his head lightly smoking and his whole body shaking. Sun could feel a faint wave of negative energy coming off of him.

The feeling made him grip the back of the couch as he asked again.

“What happened to him?”

Solar left to get something cold for Moon's head, leaving Monty to answer.

“I don't know entirely but I heard screamin’ from Parts and Service. I went to check it out ‘n found Nexus holdin’ him down. Threatened to shoot ‘im if he didn't step off and he left. I don't know what the bastard did to ‘im but he nearly broke his circuit board in half. I think the bastard tried to kill ‘im.”

That made something tighten in Sun's stomach. This was twice now that Moon had encountered Nexus, but this is the first time he's actually hurt him so badly.

“Is Earth here? Or Lunar?” He heard Monty ask.

He managed to shake his head no, stuck in his thoughts as he stared down at Moon, shaking horribly like he was freezing.

“Luckily we managed to hold ‘im down long enough to saulder the board together again and had to repair a little in the cylinder thing.” Monty said.

“And he kept screaming “I'm sorry, I'm sorry Johnathan. No idea why though.” Solar mentioned as he came back with a cold cloth.

Sun swallowed hard as he sat down next to the couch.

“Johnathan was one of the few kids that wasn't scared of Moon. He took a liking to the kid. He found out things weren't good in his home and one night he snuck out, followed him home to see what the problem was…whatever happened there Johnathan never came back to the daycare. He never left that house alive again…I don't know if Moon killed him, or someone else did. But it's torn him up ever since. Not as bad as it used to but it still bothers him now and then…”

“So that's why…” Solar muttered to himself..

“His system is cooling down a bit…his battery's pretty low too…”

“S…un…?”

He looked over to Moon, his brother trying to weakly reach for him.

Sun moved to kneel in front of the couch and placed a hand on his shoulder, firm and comforting. He saw now that Moon's eyes were completely dark- had the encounter left him blind too?

Trembling fingers lightly grasped his wrist, the shaking easing a bit when they did.

“S…ta…y…”

Then he completely shut down, body relaxing a little as he did.

Sun sighed, staying for a moment before going to get the portable charger.

“Someone…hurt Moon?”

Sun looked to the door of his bedroom, Molten standing at the frame.

“I thought I asked you to stay with Jack and Dazzle.”

“They are…napping. Who hurt him.”

Sun sighed. “Molten, you can't go after him. As much as we'd like to see someone hand his ass to him, if you tried he'd kill you easy. Not to mention the dragon…we aren't entirely sure where he even is anyway so trying to find him right now would be pointless.”

“But Moon will be fine,” Sun said, more to reassure himself than anyone else. “We'll make sure he's OK, Molten. For now just stay with the others. If they ask just…tell them Moon isn't feeling too good right now, ok? Please?”

Molten was quiet. He made a promise to himself to protect his friends, his family.

“Fine…but will you…tell me…if you find…anything?”

“I don't know. Maybe? That might be more for Moon or Solar to decide though. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it though. For now just go on to your room, alright? Moon will be ok, he just needs to rest for a few days is all.”

Sun left the room, coming downstairs again. Solar had already covered Moon with a blanket, while Monty was trying to explain to Earth, in the best way possible, what had happened.

Telling Lunar would be trickier, to try and not let him get too worked up.

Sun hooked Moon up to the charger and sat by the couch again, watching Moon silently as he charged.

“Next time you meet him, I'll be there. Maybe this time I can protect you from him…”

-end-

[sweetnnaivete]

dare i say phone & snack after school time is better than phone in bed time

[kanene-yaaay]

Secrets and the Pros and Cons of Not Running Away

Kanene's notes: I will receive no constructive criticism on this, I saw a character that just keeps being destroyed over and over because he loves and cares too much and since mah bros on that island only SUFFER, I *WILL* take the matters onto my own hands and give them all the tickles and fluff thank you so much for understanding.

Anyway, the Happy Pills Arc is my absolute fave until now, and this animatic is my new obsession. It doesn't has anything to do with the fic, really, but I think it deserves more love drtyuiklkjhg.

Warnings: This is a tickle fanfic. It has hurt/comfort, fluff and some angsty thoughts, but nothing too dark. It happens after the Happy Pills stuff and doesn't follow the canon timeline. Ticklish!Forever and Ler!Philza, Ler!Bad, Ler!Pac, Ler!Mike, Ler!Richarlyson, Ler!Tallulah and Ler!Chayanne. It is 8,000 words long.

[~*~]

Forever woke up. 

His eyes hurt when they opened so he kept them closed for a few minutes more, watching the flash of memories run behind his eyelids in blurry movements and sounds. 

For the first time in a while his mind was silent, clear from all the effects of what the Federation did to him. His feelings no longer exploded crazy in his chest as they often did during the last few days, fighting to survive before the chemicals from the drugs washed them over and got suppressed by a blinding, fake happiness.

Their kids were gone. 

Richarlyson was gone. His son disappeared in thin air and there were no clues or hints that showed any single way to get them back or even know where they went. 

The island was in scrambles, empty. 

There were explosions and grieving and chaos everywhere. Every parent doing any and everything to cope with the fact that from day to night they’ve got what was the most important for them ripped right from their fingers. 

The N.I.N.H.O, his project (his responsibility) didn’t work out this time and they lost everything because of it.

Badboyhalo was losing his colors. Baghera disappeared. Cellbit straight out begged him to not leave him alone during all of this. Mike hadn’t been seen in a long time. Etoiles was trying to keep their hopes up. Everyone asked him what they should do, now. What would he do as their president. 

And what did he do? He fucking lost it. He let his feelings get over his head, exploded everything that he could put his eyes on, demolished his base with TNT and threatened Cucurucho, forced the Federation to do a throwback just so they would have an island to put their feet on. Made the Federation see him as a threat and force those pills on him.

He left everyone. His family. His friends.

(What more could he do?)

And everyone should've left him too.

…

And yet…

And yet Pac jumped head first to save him. Accepting to go under Cucurucho’s “treatment” so he could analyze the drugs and find a cure for it. No matter how much he was shaking in fear the entire time, how bad the Federation treated him before or how there was just no certainty that his plan would even work

And yet Philza saw under his mask of smile, past the point of his gun and right into the pain in his eyes in his lowest moment and said that everything would be fine, that he still trusted him, that he knew who he was and how much he cared about the eggs. He said they would find a way to solve things out.

And yet Cellbit didn’t let him go for a single second. He followed him no matter the instability, during those painful moments of consciousness, beyond the fake minutes of happiness and slipped past his traps just to go and pull him out of it. He shouted and hugged and taunted and broke and fought dirty and did what he could to bring him back.

And yet Bad still talked and answered him, even with how much he was hurting, even with the bombs and screams and the dismissing he came back over and over again with his chats and banters and discussions that so easily led Forever to the trap that would come to save his life.

Once again, there were tears in his eyes. 

They were too his family. Forever was the one who put himself under Cucurucho’s radar by going apeshit and bombarding the entire island and they were the ones who saved him from that white fucking bear. From himself. From the Happy Pills.

He cried.

(What else could he do?)

Agony and hope danced in harmony in his chest, sucking all his other senses to nothing and filling his soul with every emotion under the sun at the same time. It was overwhelming but good to be free to feel so easily. It was horrible that he knew how it was like to miss this freedom so much. It was empty to feel this despair all over again. It was good, no, essential to know he was not alone.

Almost hopeful, even.

And yet their children were gone.

And yet everyone was kind of lost.

And yet they needed someone solid, a strong leader to step in.

Forever didn’t feel strong.

(What would he do?)

He wiped his tears. Sat on the bed. Got up. Put back the flag on his shoulder. Took a deep breath, listening to the very known voices coming out of the infirmary that made his entire face change to a (this time genuine) happy, tired and relieved kind of smile.

The president of Quesadilla Island woke up.

(And he didn’t have any idea of how much everyone had been waiting to show him how much they were happy about it.)

[~*~]

It all started in very tiny ways, as most things did, easy to miss if you didn’t know where to look. 

The first time it happened Forever was at favela. He had just finished fixing the elevator from the Karaoke and was watching the sunset (Hi, Bobby) wash over the beach in a dance of colors at the top of the building, resting on the parapet. Pac was somewhere close, building more houses or getting in trouble with Fit, but, besides them, it was just him, his memories and Copacabana beach.

Forever laid his head in his arms, with a long sigh, closing his eyes and just letting the wind mess his hair and clear his thoughts, enjoying the brief moment of peace before he started thinking about more plans and projects to fill his day and mind with.

It was hard, though. When every block he put down or decoration he pulled up made the blonde turn around with a call in the tip of his tongue, words disappearing when he realized that there was no set of small footsteps following him and probably never would again because they were all gone and he was not and how could he ever even think about-

A shiver ran down his spine and made his thoughts come to a halt when he felt a light tickle in the back of his neck, making him have to move a hand out of his comfortable position to wipe the leaf or whatever out of his skin. 

His fingers made contact with nothing. Uh. Must’ve flown away already.

He was tired. Maybe he should take the rest of the day to clean his base. There were still holes from the mine traps that someone has been spreading across the island lately. Another problem for him to resolve. Looked like those were never going to end.

The tickle came back, following him even when he flinched away, with a puffed snicker falling from his tongue. His hand shot to scare whatever insect it was from his neck again but the touch was as nimble as it was soft, lightly and skillfully dancing away from his hold before it could catch him.

“Que porra.” (“The fuck.”) He tried again and again, going so far as slapping his entire arm behind him, hitting nothing.

The sensation disappeared for a brief while before running all the way across his spine, making him almost jump in the air and finally give up his comfortable position to spin around. “Que que é isso, cara!” (“What is this, man!”)

“Pfff- hahaha!”

Forever turned just in the right moment to see his short friend, with sky blue eyes shining with a playful light, pulling a black, crooked and beautiful wing behind his back, his laugh ringing across the building.

“Philza! Really?” 

“What? You wouldn’t have that problem if you wore a shirt, you know?” Forever’s shouted “WHAAAAT!” did nothing to alleviate his laughing fit, a snort not taking long to appear.

“You, you’re, you’re bullying me, man! I just came out of the hospital and you treat me like this. I can’t believe it!”

“You’re-”

“You come here, you hit me, you don’t let me rest after I get out of a coma… I am an injured, man, you know that, Philza? You’re bullying an injured man.”

“I literally,” his tune tried and failed to sound at least a tidbit serious before he descended in more laughter. “I literally didn’t even hit you!” 

Forever continued as if he didn’t hear the protest of the other, turning around and gesticulating dramatically. “You’re a bully, Philza. You’re such a bully.”

“I am doing that to remind you to put on a shirt! You just came out of the hospital, you’re gonna catch a cold.”

“Nah, nah, nah, you’re mean. You’re just so mean to me. Like, I thought we were friends, you know? But I see the truth now.” He tsked. “That is just sad, Philza. That is really sad, man.”

“Oh my fucking god.” The punch he gave on Forever’s arms didn’t even hurt, only making the president snicker louder. “Shut the fuck up.”

Forever chuckled at how done the other sounded, watching him roll his eyes and shake his head with a big smile before taking (he wasn’t resting anymore so might as well just finish his work here) the chance and walking in between the tables and chairs until he got behind the balcony. In no time he began filling the storage with drinks and food. The high, upbeat joy of banting with his friend slowly calming down.

“Actually, I am going to put back my old black suit soon. I am just taking a break from wearing suits so much, you know?”

He didn’t have to explain what the break was really for and how his old presential clothes didn’t have anything to do with it, Philza understood. 

“Take that time off, Forever, you deserve it.” His tune was soft. 

Forever smiled, wishing he could show Phil how wrong he was. A“break” definitely wasn’t on the list of things that Forever deserved at all. That anarchist was way too kind.

“Thank you very much, my friend.” He closed the cabinet door, turning around (and away), facing the entire restaurant. 

Each chair, each color and decor had been carefully picked by small , gentle claws. The building had been chosen by hand and even the balcony was built lower than normal, made so that a small child could go behind it and pretend to be a barman, sing with the melodies and enjoy the view with their family and friends. 

Signs were still spreaded there, on the restaurant, the rooms, the favela, the N.I.N.H.O, the Spawn, their home and island… None of it had been built to be just for the adults and it all brought a longing pang in his chest. 

Saudade.

They’re gone. They’re gone and he was here laughing and resting and doing nothing to rescue them and how could he be so usele-

Another soft sweep of feathers right under his chin made him flinch away with a surprised, bitten giggle, successfully making his line of thoughts disintegrate for a second time. A half smile painted his face.

“Stop with that, man! It tickles.”

Philza tilted his head slightly to the side, eyes sharp in concentration, as if just realizing something. But at the sound of Forever’s voice he blinked and let his expression become a tad more relaxed, with worried tunes.

“You just seemed to be thinking a whole lot back there. What is in your mind?”

“Nothing really important. It doesn’t matter.”

“Well, I’ve got some bad news for you then, mate. Because it will matter to me. You can tell me anything, Forever.”

And for a moment the other considered not doing that. Teleporting away or brushing his worries with another topic or a joke. But that was Philza. 

Philza, one of the most protective parents who still trusted him with Tallulah when he was away. Philza, who didn’t care about the elections but voted for him anyway. Philza, who trusted him with such a conviction and an unyielding loyalty that Forever had no idea of what he could ever have done to deserve it.

(“You saved my children.” Philza would say if he could listen to him. “You went beyond and further to save everyone’s kids for free over and over so no parent would ever carry the grief of losing them again. You did it for Richarlyson, for Tallulah, for Bobby, for Pomme, for you, for us, for free. I’m not forgetting that easily and I’m not letting you forget too.”)

And that was enough.

He stared at the beach again, the words coming easier when he was not looking at the other.

“Talullah was the one who decorated the restaurant. We were having a Karaoke Night and when we got up here she had already put all those nice trees and pretty flowers…It looks really nice.”

Philza sighed, looking ten thousands of years older.

“Yeah, she has an amazing taste.” Then he walked and stayed right in front of Forever’s view, staring right at his eyes, serious. “We’re going to find them, ok? Richas, Talullah, Chayanne, Ramon… Every single one, we’re going to get them back. So don’t let yourself give up and stay focused.”

The president, his friend, nodded.

“We will get them back.” Forever agreed. “No matter what it costs.”

[~*~] 

But Philza was a discreet fella, so things continued to be shown in tiny ways for a while. A poke when he got too distracted and his thoughts too dark, a scribble to get his attention, a sweep of feathers when he refused to stop working so much and listen to the reason. Forever pretended to be annoyed, but the fact that the other cared so much and in such a playful way kept fishing fond smiles and amused chuckles out of him and that he couldn’t ignore.

His cute secret was secure with him, and so things took a while before it began escalating, all because of a different afternoon…

It started with a jumpscare.

“FOREVER!”

“PUTA MERDA!” (“HOLY SHIT!”) The loud shout quickly descended in a series of nervous giggles. The blond holding his chest and resting in a wall to not fall, muscles trembling with the sudden shot of adrenaline. 

It took a couple of minutes for him to get back his composure and glare at the demon that was still snickering gleefully at him, tail swooping around in delight as he jumped around. 

It took exactly one second. 

In a blink Forever was getting his soul back to his body and then in the other he was throwing himself at him and both were rolling on the floor in a mess of pushes and kicks. “Tu se acha engraçadão, hein? Tu se acha muito engraçadão. Palhaço! Tá palhaço demais, hein, Badboyhalo.” (“You think you’re so funny, yeah? You think you’re so funny. You clown! You’re being such a clown, huh, Badboyhalo.”)

Forever didn’t care that his wrestling was uncoordinated enough so most hits didn’t even land on his friend, different from Bad that actually got more than one or two kicks right before letting himself be lost in a mix of too joyfully complains of “unfair attack” and “dictator” to have any true heat in them. 

Their playful fight was kept for a few pieces of a while before they were too distracted by their own amusement to not let the other go and try to recompose themselves.

“Where! is! it!”

“What?” Forever asked, staring with confused eyes at the black demon who crossed his arms and squinted at him in what Forever could swear was an annoyed composure if it wasn’t the way his tail swayed around and his eyes glinted in glee. Whether it was for being so unclear and successfully confusing the blond or for the original reason he appeared there in the first place it wasn’t clear. 

For a moment his eyes unfocused from the form of the other and watched the wall full of kind, heartwarming messages that he asked for everyone still awake at that night to write so he could make BadboyHalo a surprise. Suddenly all the pieces came together in his mind and formed such a cute picture that Forever couldn’t help but let out a delighted chuckle, lips curling in an amused, teasing smirk. “Ooooh, I see what you’re talking about now, Badboy.”

That chuckles almost became a crackle when the only response he received was a petulant huff and a hand extended in his direction, fingers twitching impatiently. Forever took out his backpack, rummaging through it until he found the compartment where he kept all his flowers, carefully pushing Richa’s favorite one aside so he could pull another one. His fingers clasped around a stem and soon a light purple grazed his sight. “Here. Your daily flower. It’s for until you get better, right?”

“Oh, nice, thank you.” Bad’s voice tinted with a softer tune, carefully gathering the gift and putting it on his own backpack, in a special place, together with the others, before his tune became agitated again, feet tapping on the floor with energy. “But that is NOT what I am talking about.” He got closer and repeatedly began slapping his arm, following the president when he shouted and started running around the enclosed space, jumping in attempts to escape from the sudden attack. “WHERE IS IT! GIVE ME, IT’S MINE!”

“What! What more do you want from me!” When no answer was given besides more chasing and (friendly) hitting, the blonde got the warpstone with an exaggerated sigh. 

“You know, Badboyhalo,” when Forever said his entire name, it wasn’t exactly sing-songing, but it had a little beat painted with amusement and tease, when the demons haven’t been able to successfully annoy him out of his mind, of course. “I really need to go, man, and since you don’t have anything to say to me… tsk, that is so sad, man, I was really feeling quite… generous today”

“No!” The demon tried to grab his shoulder, but the blonde dodged swiftly, still pretending to be looking busy and thinking hard about his next location. “Forever. Do not. You’re not running away. I know what you’re doing!” Forever smiled. 

Being friends with Cellbit, you learned a thing or two. Like how to disappear in the middle of a conversation, but, especially, how to do that in the most annoying way possible. “No, no, no, I’m not running away at all, Bad, I am actually…”

However, that was the thing: Bad was also Cellbit’s friend, and so realized the exact moment that glint filled the president’s brown eyes what was about to happen. His hand flew in another attempt of a grab, missing once again his shoulder when the other, a bit later than last time, dodged, which allowed his reflex to kick in and his hand changed the trajectory and lay on the brazilian’s side, squeezing.

None of them was prepared for the squeal that this action fished.

For a second, a blissful second, everything froze and both stared at each other. 

That is how Forever saw the exact second the demon’s eyes squinted and a playful flame alighted in them.

In a blink his other hand also flew to his waist and began attacking both sides with no mercy. Forever had no chance to even try to stop the barking loud laughter that exploded from him, immediately letting go of the warpstone to clue on Bad’s wrists, trying to push them away by sheer reflex even before his brain could process what was happening. 

“Nonono, stop that! BA-ad!”

Bad couldn’t help but giggle, half adoring and half malefically, at the way the laughter made most of his words get almost intelligible. Besides, Bad thinks he could grow accustomed to having his name being snickered in such an adoring - together with that cute smile and shiny eyes - way more often, really.

His fingers poked and prodded with skill and curiosity, looking for any sensitive spot that could create a new fun sound and concentrating there for a few maddening seconds and plenty of digging before looking for the next one. There was a very nice one juuust above his lowest rib that made the barking laughter become a string of snickers that seemed to grow higher and faster by the seconds. It almost made Bad forget his main job now as his friend and rival the second (actually, even before that, if he was being honest, but honesty was overrated) he discovered that little fun secret about their dear tyrant:

Tease him out of his mind.

“Huh? Stop what, Foreverrr?” “That! You’re ti-” Bad closed his hands in fists and pressed his knuckles on his ribs and rubbed as if his life depended on it, cutting the rest of the sentence with success and filling the room with much more shrieks than before. “What was that?” 

Forever couldn’t answer, his legs were failing and it made him get close to a fall if it wasn’t for the demon adjusting his hold on him and slowly lowering him to the ground, fingers still dancing in each and every rib, scratching and scribbling happily.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear what you’re saying, some muffinhead is laughing their heart out near here. Perhaps they heard a very good joke. Hmmm, what do you think Forever?”

Forever snorted, eyes almost closed with how much he was laughing, tears beginning to collect in the corner of his eyes. A few portuguese words got tangled with his crackling. Bad nodded seriously and slowed his tickle attack, not wanting to go too far.

“Uh hm, no, I get what you’re putting down here. We just need to ignore the laughter and keep up our nice conversation. I think that is a great idea!” He snuggled his hands cozily under Forever’s armpits, lightly wiggling and poking, which resulted in the laughter becoming a new dance of a calmer, but still high with adrenaline and mirth, string of snickers that made the blonde’s shoulders bounce in joy. “What were you saying before?” 

“Stop tickling me!” “What!” Bad gasped in offense. “How can you even accuse me like that! What the fudge, I thought we were friends. But, no, I see. I came aaaaall the way over here, did nothing wrong and you just treat me like that.” He gave a fake sniff.  “You’re hurting my feelings, Forever.” “Mentiroso!” (Liar!) It was quite difficult to see with tears and squinted eyes, especially when Bad’s hoodie always kept his expressions hidden, however, it was even harder to miss how those shiny eyes glinted with mischief and fondness and his smirk went from one ear to another. 

It was quite the sweet sight. Forever had to push his face away before it made him blush vomit. 

(For a second, he could almost swear that the blue that covered the other’s figure dimmed a little for a piece of time.)

“You’re such a liar.”

“Oh why, thank you.”

Bad freed his hands and softly attacked the back of the elf’s ears, still too lost in the lovely sound of his delightful giggles, crackles and snickers to actually let him go. That was the true sound of Forever’s happiness, not that forced, explosive laughter created by those pills. 

Besides, Forever also wasn’t pushing him away.

Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the only one missing that freeing sound. Maybe Forever also longed for those moments of playful fights between them, of pushing the buttons and teasing and caring and always, always being there, for the better or the worse.

Eventually, the president held his hands and stopped the attack, left over giggles still pouring from his lips like a waterfall. 

Their eyes met.

Forever’s smile got relaxed and small before growing bigger. 

Bad just hummed, tail starting to sway fastly from side to side.

“So, Badboyhalo…”

“Yes?”

Forever’s grip got more firm. 

Bad’s pull got equally stronger. 

They kept smiling.

“Are you… uh.” His voice lost the undertone of playfulness, brown eyes focusing with true curiosity for a moment. “Coceguento? How is it in english? Tickly?”

“Oh, it’s ticklish. For example, you are very ticklish, Forever.”

“Hehehe,” he snorted, and his curiosity was satisfied. “Yeah, yeah, I got it. But what about you, Badboyhalo? Are you… ticklish?” The word came slowly and playfully, tinted with a nice accent.

Bad’s tail opened his backpack, rummaging in search for a very specific item.

“Hmmm… no, actually. I’m not.”

The blonde’s smile got more dangerous. “I don’t know… I don’t believe in you, man.” He found it. 

Bingo.

“Then why don’t you try to find out?” 

Forever pulled him closer and with a swift move the enderpearl that had been in his bag was thrown to the other side of the room, successfully freeing the demon from his hold. Not a second later, though, Forever was jumping on his feet, ready for another chase.

Lots of laughter filled the afternoon, that day.

[~*~]

After that, the avian wasn’t the only one who now randomly poked, prodded and attacked the outgoing brazilian when he wasn’t expecting, anymore. Even though Badboyhalo’s attacks were much more out of the blue, following him in those lonely afternoons when he was distracted in his adventures or too lost in a project to realize the other invaded his base in the middle of a sleepless night. 

But, you see, the difference between Philza and Bad and knowing that Forever is actually pretty ticklish is a very single detail: Bad is a fucking gossiper who loved to set chaos just to see where it would go. 

And, therefore, the main reason why Forever was so screwed right now.

“NÃO! SAI, SAI, SAI. LARGA DE MIM!” (NO! GET AWAY, GET AWAY, GET AWAY. LET ME GO!)

“Que isso, moço, tá fugindo da gente por que?” (What is this, bro? Why are you running away from us?) 

Forever didn’t even have to turn around to see Mike’s giant smug grin. It was almost palpable in his tune. But if anyone could have any doubt about its existence, they just needed to listen to his crackles as both him and Pac chased their friend through the Spawn, leaving a very amused Bad and  Bagi, who shouted a “Boa sorte aí, Forevinho!” (Good luck, Forevinho!) in the wind behind.

“Pois é, a gente só quer um abraço apertado do nosso presida da galera! Cadê o espírito da Favela Six?” (That’s right. We just want a tight hug from our favorite president! Where’s the Favela’s six spirit?) Pac, however, questioned with a genuine tune, almost naive like as he followed the other closely, getting closer and closer by the seconds. For a moment he almost tricked the president into thinking that he was the merciful one, then he remembered about that one tickle fight he, Mike and Tubbo had in the Favela.

Let’s just say it was just a very quick thought, really.

“Favela six é o caralho, ceis querem é me roubar. Eu já disse que não vai ter Armazém da Galera nenhum! Isso é ataque à autoridade, hein!” (Favela Six my ass, you just want to rob me. I already said that there won’t be any Free Storage! This is an attack on authority!)

“A gente só quer o que é nosso por direito, Forevin.” (We just want what is faithfully ours, Forevin.)

The blonde didn’t even have a chance to answer before an arm grabbed his shoulder and pushed, disbalancing him enough so Pac was able to sneak behind him and lock him in a hug, snickering gleefully in his ear.

“Que isso, cara, achava que tu era compromissado! Vou falar pro Fit, hein!” (The hell, man! I thought you were compromised! I’m going to tell Fit!) Forever’s struggles only grew stronger when he saw Mike getting closer, wiggling his hands in the form of claws as he stopped running and instead began to approach slowly, chuckles falling freely from his lips and making shivers run across his spine and giggles to pile in his chest. 

He tried again to free himself from the hug, showing no success. Pac’s hold was firm as a mountain.

“E desde quando que tu tá malhando? Tá todo mamadíssimo aí, né, eu tô sabendo.” (And since when you’re ripped? You’re all ‘mamadíssimo’ now. I see what’s going on.)

Pac let out an amused, with drops of shyness, snort. “Pois é, né, moço. Sabe como é né… Tô indo na academia do Fit bastante esses tempos e tudo mais, aí dá nisso.” (That is right, bro. You know how it is… I’m visiting Fit's Gym a lot these last days and that is what happens.) His tune lost a bit of the light and became more serious, cracked in the corners. “Também, né, a gente nunca sabe quando vai precisar. Eu não quero que quando chegue a hora…” (Also, we don’t know when we’re gonna need it. I don’t want that, when the time comes…)

Forever knew exactly what he was talking about, the same cloudy thoughts that filled everyone’s mind in the island the second he warned that the kids had ran away because a danger greater than everything they’ve seen before was coming, the Federation choosing to announce the train station’s opening in just a few days also did not help their nerves.

He looked at Pac’s shadows under his eyes, suddenly remembering that his friend also went under the Happy Pills Treatment, the horrible withdrawal, the exhaustion of recovery, all to save him. 

His struggles became just a little, a little less strong, heart melting and hurting like it did for every single member of their dysfunctional family since they arrived in that boat.

The scientists deserved to have their own silly fun, even if the fun was destroying their friend and president in a mess full of giggling pieces.

And so Forever let out a loud laughter, wiggling his eyebrows and giving him a knowing smirk. “Tu tá praticando bastante exercício com o Fit é? Aham, hehehe, tô sabendo.” (Doing a lot of exercise with Fit, yeah? Uh hm. Hehehe, I see.)

“FOREVER!” This time the snort that came out from Forever’s mouth was more of a result of Pac's unfairly squeezing his belly non stop instead of a reaction to the affronted shout, the one with blue hoodie not throwing any other remark or getting lost in any dark thought. The blonde counted that as a win for him. 

“Tá bem engraçadinho, mas você não vai conseguir me distrair. Sabe, o Badboy me falou algo muito interessante sobre você que ele descobriu mês passado…” (You think you’re being funny, huh. But you’re not going to distract me. You know, Badboy told me something very interesting about you that he discovered last month…)

Mike finally got right in front of him and Forever immediately started kicking in his direction to keep those offending fingers away from his torso at the same time that he continued to attempt to pry Pac’s hands - that somehow seemed to sense the exact spots he was the most sensitive and concentrate all their pinches, scribbles and tickly efforts on them over and over again - until the attack forced Forever to press his lips on his shoulder to contain the blossoming laughter and embarrassing squeals that tried to escape from his mouth.

His efforts to not let any sound out, however, were demolished when, in his distraction, Mike grabbed his ankle and grinned like a shark that finally got his prey. 

“Eu preferia uma mãozinha, mas já que é isso que você tá oferecendo…” (I’d rather you gave me a hand, but since you’re offering…) And, locking the leg in a headlock,  his fingers began dancing across his sole, walking around his arch and giving some special attention to the extremely ticklish space right under his toes, skillfully dodging any kicks that this move resulted in and breaking Forever’s barriers instantly.

Forever’s booming laughter filled the air in a free dance of joy, mirth and a warmth that filled his heart when he remembered just how long had it been since all of them could just get together and goof around a bit, no kidnappings or imminent dangers in their minds for a blissful pieces of time.

[~*~]

“Soooo, guys, I think I’m heading out, now.” Forever kept jumping on the trampoline, restless energy running on his veins after talking to Phil about his journey in the Nether. The virus hadn’t spread a lot those last days, but the conversation was hard, not only because of how, primarily, exhausting it was to go through all of it, but because for some reason something in him made he almost feel compelled to shut his mouth and not say a single word about the infection to anyone else.

They played and gave each other a few remarks and pokes of fun when Philza asked for Forever to take off his shirt in the bunker, careful touches analyzing the skin around the ébano substance glued on his back and in the nape of his head. Even so, it made the blonde want to hide away the result of his journey. Forever never have been ashamed of his body. He used to walk around shirtless, on the good old, first days on the island, afterall. But if he was being honest... he was afraid about that infection, and Philza didn’t seem very relieved about it either.

It was a literal mark about how he had failed in absolutely every single sense and chance he had out there. In finding any clue, in getting their kids back, in saving Walter Bob or even himself. In the end, he was not able to do any of this.

That is the President of Quesadilla Island, everyone.

(“We’re going to talk with Cucurucho and demand answers about what the fuck is this.”

Forever gave a humorless chuckle, happy that the children were outside playing so they weren’t here to witness how defeated he sounded for a second before adjusting himself to a playful grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, Philza, he is very good at this. Giving us answers, right?”

“We have to try. If someone knows about this it is the Federation.”  Philza brushed the other’s sarcastic ‘há!’ easily and moved until he was right in front of the brazilian, capturing his eyes in a firm stare. “And if they don’t have anything, we’re going to find our own answers.”

Forever nodded, not really believing.

“You worry too much, my friend.”

“Exactly. I already told you but I will repeat it until it gets through your thick skull: I always will worry and I’m not leaving you side, mate.”

For a moment words escaped from his tongue, a mix of feelings of ‘safe’, ‘happy’ and ‘embarrassment’ filled his chest before he got a hold of his senses. 

“Alright, alright, alright.” 

This time, when he smiled there was a light back into his brown, tired eyes. 

“You know, Philza, you really need to get over me, man. The line continues, I’m already moving forward and you still try to romance me, it’s- what is the word? Oh, embarrassing, hehehe”

The avian took advantage of his position to hit the other upside his head, a surprise snort being fished from his lips. 

“Oho, shut the fuck up. You’re the one who is still on this!”)

And yeah, maybe he was just making a strategic retreat after showing vulnerability, but who could blame him, really? No one, that’s who. He would be out before they did try.

“Come on, Richas, vamo de Megabase.” (Let’s go to Megabase) He called, getting out of the trampoline when the boy kept painting and paid him no mind. Tallulah, however, stopped writing on a book to go to him, Chayanne turned to look from his place next to the grill nearby, already testing a new recipe.

The girl placed a sign and stared at him with attentive eyes, lips firmly pressed in a shadow of disappointment. ‘You already going?’

(God. He really missed the sound of little steps and signs being placed. They missed it all so much.)

Forever internally winced. He really didn’t spend a lot of time with Chay and Talullah since they’re back, letting them enjoy more time with Phil and just making quick check ins once in a while. He also took the last days to spend as much time as he could with Richas, afterall.

“Yeah... sorry, Talullah, but me and Richas still have to finish our project, right Richas?”

Still no answer from the younger one, too concentrated in every stroke to pay the conversation any mind.

Forever chuckled, sensing a chance for some mischief. Cleaning his throat, he lifted his voice from the usual soft tune he always used with Tallulah to a more taunting tune, making it louder so Richas could listen perfectly well.

“Ohhh, but maybe you can go and help me to make it, right, Talullah? You’re such a nice, helpful egg who listens to your parents when they call you, just like Chayanne. Richarlyson could take some examples from his older siblings more, tsk.” The president had to hold the snickers when he saw the red cow head stop and slowly, threateningly slowly, turn around to face him, Richas letting go of the brush to squint their eyes at him. Talullah and Chayanne rolled their eyes, amused, already used to the playful banters between father and son. “But ahh, he just never listens. Oooh, I have an idea! While Tallulah helps me with the decoration, Chayanne, you can go too and make your delicious barbecue there to keep us- AH!”

The surprised shout was a direct result for when the younger launched himself at his father in protest and began roughhousing immediately, both descending in growls and portuguese for a few couple of minutes before Forever laid a satisfied Richas on the floor, who immediately placed a sign.

‘Pai, stop. I’m making Pepito’s birthday present, let me finish it >:0 we can go Mebase later :D’

“Ok, ok, I get it, I get it. You like Pepito more than your own father. Yeah, yeah, no Richas, no, I get it.” He began fake sniffing and making crying noises, leading to a Richas kicking his leg in a clear message of ‘stop the dramatics’ before going back to the canvas. “Ok, ok, warn me when you finish your drawing then, we can stay a little more.”

The three kids danced in excitement.

(...)

He is not sure how exactly he had ended up in this position.

Talullah and Chayanne were secure and cozy his arms, half because of a poke of fun at Philza that started with a joke ten minutes ago and they just kept it running and half as a parting hug that was stiffly (but still very carefully) answered by Chayanne and warmly by Tallulah. Forever enthusiastically squeezed and hugged them even tighter. A bit jealous of how Philza could shield them both with his wings during their own hugs and how he could only wish that his arms would be strong enough to defend them when the time comes.

“OK, now it’s for real. Richas, let’s go!”

But, when Richarlyson appeared in front of him, paints and canva already put inside his backpack, his smile had a different tint in it and, between his curls, Forever could recognize the flame that always appeared when that kid’s inner demon - not his terrifying artistic alter ego, though, the general demon that lives inside every rascal kid - woke in search of chaos.

He immediately became wary.

‘Chay, Talluh, can I tell you a secret about Pai Forever? 0-0’

Both siblings immediately nodded.

“Ohh, gossip. I like, I like.” Philza snorted at the affronted look in Forever’s face. 

“Vai contar nada, vai contar nada, seu muleque atentado! Nem sei o que tu vai falar, mas não vai falar não. Que que é isso, Richarlyson, tá se virando contra o seu próprio pai?” (You’re telling nothing, you’re telling nothing, you absolute brat. I don’t even know what you’re about to say but you’re telling nothing. What is it, Richarlyson, are you turning against your own dad?)

During the entire scold Richas kept jumping around in circles with the utmost, simple delight, wiggling his body and tail in sync in front of Forever, as if daring him to let go of the other two eggs to go and actually catch him, like a cat looking deep into your eyes before throwing the cup right off your table.

He put a sign on the ground.

‘Pai Forever is absurdly, awfully, very, very, ticklish. And it’s so funny because he always agrees to give us anything when we tickle attack him at home.'

“WHAAAAAT! RICHARLYSON, TU VAI FICAR DE CASTIGO, SEU OVO SAFADO. VAI PASSAR O RESTO DA VIDA NAQUELE CASTELO ASSOMBRADO LÁ DO TEU PAI CELLBIT. VOU CHAMAR O ELMARIANA PRA PUXAR TEU PÉ DE NOITE” (RICHARLYSON, YOU’RE GOING TO GET GROUNDED, YOU RASCAL. YOU’RE GOING TO SPEND THE REST OF YOUR LIFE IN YOUR DAD CELLBIT’S HAUNTED CASTLE. I’M GOING TO CALL ELMARIANA TO PULL YOUR FEET IN THE NIGHT.)

His kid, his beautiful, beautiful baby boy that he would explode the entire island for and go through the literal hell all over again if it meant that he would be finally safe, only looked at him in a confused expression - as if the lil shit just couldn’t tell why his dear pai was running away from him as he tried to get closer - and began following his steps as Forever tried to put distance between them, holding Chayanne and Talullah the farthest away from his torso that he could while the two squirmed trying to escape and attack.

In the end his back ended up hitting the tree and, without being able to get his items to flee, he had nowhere to go.

“Wait, wait, wait, don-” A chortle escaped the very exact moment Richas began drilling on his sides, making Forever want to bounce up and down with the sudden tickly energy that shot through his entire body, leaving his mouth with a big, dazzling smile and his arms to fall in an attempt to protect himself from the tickling, which inevitably brought the other children close and sealed his fate.

Tallulah was bold, briefly looking at his face for any sign of discomfort before carefully shoving her claws under his armpit, scratching the ticklish skin with ease, but for the loud shriek that this resulted one could think that she just unlocked a full, unmerciful on a tickle attack.

Chayanne took a bit longer, giving his surroundings and sky a wary look, as if a monster would appear the very second he lowered his guard, only to end up finding his father’s gaze, who was watching at them with a soft expression and nodding encouragingly. The little (way to young) warrior relaxed and also took the job of scribbling, encircling and digging (just the tiniest bit, he had to be mindful about his claws after all) the other armpit, fish just more squeals and plenty of gleeful laughter with that.

Forever felt like he was about to jump out of his skin, his body going crazy at the ‘it tickles, it tickles so so much!’ feeling while his brain was still caught in the need to not move around too much to not hurt any kid with his squirms. All of which ended up with the blonde doing a weird little dance around the spot that brought plenty of giggles and amused snickers from the young ones.

Now, the similarity between Philza and Bad is that, while he wasn’t exactly the one who created it, Philza was more than inclined and wouldn’t necessarily refuse to add to a chaotic situation it if the chance came, if he felt like it.

That is why he stepped close, winking at them. “I think it’s better if you just agree to their terms, Forever.”

“I-I” the adult tried to bite back another giggling fit, but their tickles were so goddamn light and maddening- “I don’t even snk know what thehey want!”

“Just agree to give them anything then.”

Forever shook his head. He knew his son enough to understand how much of a pain in the ass that decision could become.

“Needing more convincing? Well, kids, you saw it.”

“Filho da puta-” (Son of a bitch-), and Forever threw his head backwards in more laughter, more squeaks, more half squirms.

Now, Philza may not know Portuguese. However, six months sharing an island with 7 brazilians and plenty of reasons to swear taught him well what some words meant. He snorted, half amused and half affronted.  

“Do NOT swear in front of the children.” Then, a wicked grin was formed in his expression.“You know what? I think the eggs need a little help.”

Forever’s eyes got wide when he saw the avian stepping close, cracking his fingers, making an electric shiver run across his spine and spread through his nerves, making his fingertips tingle with adrenaline and anticipation. 

His legs tensed in preparation for the chase, unfortunately, his son knew him too well.

In a blink Richarlyson threw himself on his legs and hugged them, successfully stopping him from even trying to escape. And those extra pieces of time were all that Philza needed. As fast as he was to defend and attack, he positioned himself right in front of the president, firmly pressing his shoulder to the tree and not really, truly, preventing him from escaping, but successfully securing him in place, in the same time.

“Ok, kids, what I know for a fact is that his neck is a very bad spot…” He demonstrated it by lightly tracing and wiggling his nails on said place, all of the dragon hybrids watching attentively as the action made Forever lose himself in a sea of snickers and yelps, a stronger reaction only coming out when two more tiny hands got mixed in the fun when Chayanne and Talullah tried mirroring their dad.

“But a spot that could make him cave…” Philza hummed before turning to the young one with a red mushroom cow head. “What do you think, Richarlyson? His hips or the back of his ribs?”

Richas looked at his dad. 

At how dark have been the circles under his eyes since he came back, at how he kept chatting with the islanders but never truly talking to them, how he always kept running off to another project or meeting, always saying that Richas was his son and his best friend and the only one he could trust when they got caught up in the middle of the night building and decorating his base.

He saw how, until now, he hadn’t run away. Through the teases, the attacks and tickles, he stayed.

And so, he smirked. 

Placed a sign.

‘Both?’

“Geez, I’m never getting into a tickle fight with you, mate.” Even so, the avian reflected his smirk right back at him and both turned to look at Chayanne and Talullah, who nodded in understanding and placed their claws on the back of his ribs. 

“Nononono! Wait!” Philza placed his free hand on his hips, thumb pressing the spot right above the bone, the palm resting on the back of his spine. Forever’s speech became more high pitched and much faster, with nervous, delirious chuckles already spilling and spinning in the air. “None of you said what you wanted from me! That is not justo, uh, just, huh, fair! Calma aí, come on, wait, wait, wait!”

They did not, in fact, wait.

For a second, once again, everything else in the world disappeared. There were no code monsters, no Federation, no Purgatory or anything else but the warm, electric feeling of fingers and claws prodding, pinching and scratching that took over his entire senses, making his laughter ring free in a song composed of yelps, shrieks, squeals and snickers that filled the air. There was nothing else but the fun, the joy and the warmth of a careful touch and silly taunting smiles that his heart melt with care over and over again.

In the end, after more laughter, plenty of teasing and lots of snorts, they finally agreed to ask him to visit them again after a couple of days for a nice picnic. A request which, in between leftover chuckles, plenty complains and a few gleeful tears, Forever agreed, a plan of vengeance already forming in his brain.

[timewizard-oldman]

i just finished watching adventure time i am so not ok about fern im so not ok about everything actually

fern is literally so special to me i've cried over him like 3 times......, i feel your pain unknown individual..............