#probably my worst take to date this is flopping SO BAD

[lampadinarotta]

I just had a vision

all members of the cyan team having some kind of european heritage

Here's my hcs (based purely on vibes but still)

anyways I love them a lot and they make me very much insane 💕💕💕💕

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Mistakes Were Made

Pairing: Bartender!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: seeing bucky naked and he seeing you naked and it's awkward

Summary: Bucky has a date for the first time since breaking up with Sharon, and you try not to ruin it more than you already have. Something awkward happens, and now you have to try and fix that, or else Bucky may never speak to you again.

One in a Million Series

Square Filled: intimacy without sex (2024) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Word travels fast when you’re living in an apartment with three men. Bucky met someone at the bar he works at and is now going on a date with her. It’s his first date since being with Sharon, so you can imagine how nervous he is even if he doesn’t show it. Sharon knew all of the bad things Bucky has done in his life and used it against him, at least, that’s what he’s told you. You’ve never met her and you hope you never do. Bucky is a great man and you can’t believe she ever let someone like him go.

You walk into the kitchen and see all three men already in there.

“Do you know where you’re taking her?” Steve asks.

“No.”

“I can give you some of my favorite date spots,” you say.

“It’s not a date and no offense, but I don’t need your advice,” Bucky sighs.

“Awh, come on. I want to talk to you guys about this kind of stuff. What’s her name?”

“Christina,” Sam smirks.

“Sam,” Bucky sighs.

“Christina, huh? That’s a nice name,” you smile. “I think I’ve seen her around the bar. She’s hot.”

“Yeah, I know she is.”

“Have you been out with anyone since Sharon?” His silence is your answer. “Wow, big shoes to fill. That’s scary. You never know what she’s thinking or if she even likes the way you dress.”

“This is why I don’t talk to you, Y/N,” Bucky sighs.

“Bucky, you’re going to be fine,” Steve chuckles. “Just don’t talk about Sharon.”

“Or your trauma,” Sam chirps.

“Or the fact that your metal arm can squeeze the life out of her,” you chuckle. Bucky rolls his eyes and leaves the kitchen to his bedroom. You giggle under your breath and pour yourself a cup of coffee. “He’s going to be okay, right?”

“Yeah. Dates aren’t really his thing. He’s too much in his own head to focus on anything else.”

“Sharon must have hurt him pretty badly, huh?” Sam and Steve don’t answer. “I should apologize.”

“No, just leave him alone.”

You ignore Steve and walk to Bucky’s room which has music coming out of it. Instead of knocking, which you should be doing, you open his door and walk in. You freeze when you see Bucky completely naked, giving you an unobstructed view of everything. You thought he was well-endowed but this just proves it. His date is one lucky woman.

“What… What are you…?”

You shriek-giggle and smile widely. You quickly turn and leave his room, catching Sam and Steve in the living room.

“Can I talk to you guys for a second? Something happened. It was an accident and I just want to come clean about it.” Both men wait for you to continue speaking. “I, um… I accidentally saw Bucky’s… pee-pee.”

“What did she just say?” Sam asks Steve in a low tone.

“It was an accident but it’s not a big deal.” Bucky’s bedroom door opens and he walks out wearing jeans and a hoodie. “Hey, Bucky.” He walks to the front door and you intercept him so he can’t leave. He refuses to look at you in the eyes. “So, that was weird, huh?”

“I’m trying to leave, Y/N.”

“I think we should talk about it.”

“You’re blocking the door.”

You sigh and step to the side, allowing Bucky to leave the apartment. As soon as he’s gone, you groan and flop onto the couch.

“God, that was horrible! What am I going to do?”

“Look, we all heard your giggle. That was probably the worst thing you could have done,” Sam says. “You don’t laugh at a naked man.”

“Yeah. Just give him time. Trust me, it’s not the most embarrassing thing that’s happened to him. He’ll get over it.”

“I can’t just sit around and do nothing.”

“Yes, you can, and you will. Leave it alone, Y/N.”

“Please, Steve, I need your help,” you beg with wide eyes.

“Y/N, you’re going to act like this never happened, okay?”

“We live together. We’re a family. Families talk about things.”

“No, families ignore things until they go away,” Sam says. “Just leave him alone.”

You can’t get Bucky out of your head for the entire night. He doesn’t come home which means he either spent the night with his date or he got a hotel room alone. In the morning, you’re in the kitchen eating breakfast when Bucky comes home wearing the same outfit. You can’t ignore what happened. You grew up in a family where you shared everything.

“Hi, Bucky.” He looks at you but doesn’t say anything. “So, your date went well, huh? You didn’t come home last night.” Again, he doesn’t say anything. He just pours himself some coffee. “I have something that made me think of you.” You reach into your purse and pull out a stick with feathers and jewels glued to it. “It’s a Feelings Stick. Whoever is holding the Feeling Stick has permission to say whatever he or she is feeling without being judged. It’s popular among my students. Care to go first?”

Bucky reaches over and takes the stick from your hands. With his metal hand, he snaps the stick in half.

“Believe it or not, that’s not the first time someone has broken my Feelings Stick.” You reach into your purse and pull out a smaller version of the stick. “I have a travel size.”

“I’m out of here.”

He turns and walks to his bedroom but you chase after him.

“Bucky, wait, please! We have to talk about this!” He leaves the apartment instead and heads to the elevator. “I’m sorry I saw your… pee-pee.” He steps into the elevator and you follow him. “I also didn’t mean to laugh.”

“Why did you? Is there something funny about it?”

“No. No, it’s beautiful. Big. A real treat. Your date is a lucky woman.” Bucky tries to get off the elevator but you grab his arm and pull him back in. You press the emergency stop button so you’re stuck here. “Please, Bucky, talk to me.”

“Y/N, there’s nothing to talk about. You ruined my date. When I tried to take my clothes off, all I heard was your crazy little,” he imitates your giggle, “giggle-scream. All I wanted was to have meaningless sex with a beautiful woman and now I can’t even do that.”

“Bucky, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

He presses the emergency stop button to get the elevator working again so it stops on your floor. He walks out but this time, you don’t follow him. You need to fix this but you don’t know how. Instead of going back to the apartment, you leave the building entirely. The only person who might be able to help you is Natasha. She’s at work so you drive over to her office building where she’s sitting in her office.

“Hey, you have a second?” you ask and knock on the door.

“Hey, Y/N. Come in.” You do and close the glass door behind you. She closes out whatever she is working on and looks at you. “What’s wrong?”

“I think I messed up with Bucky.” You explain to her what just happened. “What am I going to do, Nat?”

“Do you like him?”

“What?” You perk up and refuse to meet her eye. “No.”

“You totally do!”

“Natasha…”

“Was he big?”

“Bigger than I’ve ever seen, but that’s beside the point. I don’t want him to hate me. He won’t talk to me.”

“Okay,” Natasha sighs and leans back. “There is only one solution to this. You’ve seen his, so show him yours.”

It might not be the best solution to this but it might work. You leave her office and head back home only to see Bucky isn’t there. According to Steve, he’ll be back soon which gives you a perfect opportunity to put your plan into motion. You stand in front of your mirror completely naked, looking over your body in thought. This might work. You grab a towel and sneak into Bucky’s room without the other guys seeing you.

The last time you surprised a guy when you were naked, he ended up cheating on you, but Bucky is different than Jack. You don’t wait long before you hear Bucky come home.

He’s not alone.

A woman giggles, probably Christina. He’s come back with his date, and he’s heading right to his room. If he sees you in here, he’ll never talk to you again. You can’t ruin his date for a second time. You drop to the other side of his bed and hide just as his bedroom door opens. He and Christina come in with their lips on each other, and you wince at the situation.

“God, you’re such a good kisser,” Christina moans.

She falls onto the bed with Bucky on top of her, and you peek your head up to see what’s going on. Neither of them has noticed you, so you need to leave while they’re distracted. You crawl awkwardly while keeping your towel secure on your body. She moans again when he kisses her neck, and you look at the door. If you were to run, you might make it.

So, you do, but you end up knocking something off his desk. Both he and Christina scream when they see you, and you jump back in shock.

“What are you doing, Y/N?!”

You rush to his door but you end up slipping on his shirt. Your towel drops, exposing everything to both him and Christina. You turn out of instinct and Bucky can’t help but look at your body.

“Welcome to our home,” you say to Christina.

You quickly flee from his room and race to your room before Steve and Sam can see you. Bucky’s date is ruined regardless, and she leaves in anger at what just happened. You quickly get dressed and peek your head out of the door just in time to see her leave.

“Loft meeting. Now!” Bucky shouts. You leave your bedroom and join Steve and Sam on the couch. Bucky doesn’t wait before exploding. “We have a thing called doors and what do you do with them? You knock on them before opening them!”

“I’m sorry, Bucky.”

“Just knock! Don’t sneak into my room!” You reach into your purse and pull out the travel-size Feelings Stick. “Put that shit away.”

“I feel that Nick isn’t honoring the Feeling Stick,” you say.

Sam grabs the stick and looks at Bucky. “I feel me, too.”

“What are you doing?”

Steve takes the stick next.

“I feel that I also have to support Sam and Y/N.”

“What are you two doing?” Bucky practically shouts.

Sam takes the stick back. “I feel like Bucky is yelling.”

They’re doing it to piss him off at this point, and it’s working. Bucky rolls his eyes and storms to his room before slamming the door. It’s not a laughing moment but you three snicker at what you did to Bucky. Bucky clearly needs some space, so you give him the rest of the day to be alone.

By the time six rolls around, you figure it’s time to try talking to him again. You walk to his bedroom and knock on the door.

“Come in.” You open the door and knock again. “You don’t have to knock once you’re in the room.”

“I’m really sorry Bucky. For everything.”

“I know.”

“Did Christina call you back?”

“No, I don’t think she will.”

“It’s her loss, honestly. You’re a great guy, Bucky.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” he whispers.

“So, earlier, did you see, like, everything?”

“Yup.”

“Even my… gumbo pot?”

“Get out of my room.”

You giggle and leave the room knowing you and Bucky are going to be okay. Once the door is closed, Bucky smiles.

x

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[freedomfireflies]

iFall For Harry

Part Two to this request!

Summary: Turns out, the stranger in your phone is kind of funny...

...and kind of sexy, too.

Oh, my god. 

Harry, did you hear the news?

It takes exactly three and a half minutes for those familiar little bubbles to pop up.

Well hello to you, too. 

No, what happened?

You struggle to contain a rather giddy grin as you begin to type, A cheese factory exploded in France!

Wait, really? Shit, what happened?

I don’t know. But all that was left was…de brie.

Exactly sixty seconds pass before he begins to type.

Fuck.

I think I just snorted. 

That was…goddammit that was good.

You don’t even know what he looks like, but you chuckle at the idea of him laughing so hard he can’t help but snort.

Thank you, thank you. 

Took me two weeks to come up with that.

I’m impressed. 

Little offended, too.

Oh? Your heart sinks.

Yeah. 

Kept me on the edge of my seat for two fucking weeks wondering if I’d hear from you again.

Shit. 

You smirk to yourself as you flop down onto your sofa and think through a response.

Hey, it takes two to tango, pal. You could have texted me, too.

The bubbles make your heart pound.

Alright, that’s fair. 

In my defense, I didn’t have any more cheese puns.

Oh, is that all this is, then? 

You just use me for dad jokes?

Psh, nooooooo…

Then, another text.

Although, the jokes do make my days…cheddar.

 You laugh a little louder, suddenly very aware of the flush in your face over some stranger in your phone. 

No, wait. How do I erase a text?

I hated that. 

Seriously, how do I make it go away? 

My failure is staring me in the face, and I hate it.

You giggle under your breath.

Easy, Grandpa. 

Relax, just press down until the options pop up.

The conversation goes quiet for a brief moment before you watch his previous text vanish from the screen with a dramatic, poof!

Then, he begins typing again.

Hold on… 

Did you just call me Grandpa?

…psh, noooooooo

Oh, so that’s how it is?

That’s how it is.

Wow, and we had such a nice thing going, too.

To be fair, you never told me your age, and you don’t even know how to delete a text. 

What am I supposed to think?

First of all: rude. 

Respect your elders.

Second of all: this deleting shit is NEW, okay, and I just updated my phone, like…a week ago, so I never learned. 

Uh-huh. 

No, yeah, whatever you say, Grandps.

He responds with the emoji that’s rolling its eyes.

You smirk.

For your information, I’m 29.

Okay, which is a cool, hip, fun, and very fresh age.

Yes, I believe that’s the slogan for the retirement home, too. 

“We’re cool, we’re slick, and we might break a hip.”

There’s a longer pause between your text and his response. You hope it’s because he’s laughing. It’s not your best work, but you think it’s funny.

And then, you get the notification.

Dammit, that place sounds so much cooler than the retirement home I’m in now. 

Send me the address? I’ll wheel myself over.

You got it, Old Man. Will you need any help crossing the street?

How thoughtful of you. Yeah, that’d be great, and then you can finally earn your Girl Scout badge.

Oh, my God. How did you know it was the last one I needed?

Cause I’m old. And therefore wise.

Oh, right, right. No, that checks out.

Yeah. 

You lean back, forcing your eyes away from your phone to finally get a moment of reprieve from the excessive smiling. Why is this so fun?

I guess 29 isn’t so bad. Just…three years older than me.

Ah, another piece to the Cheese Girl puzzle. 

You’re 26.

Indeed.

26 was fun. 

I liked 26.

Yeah, it’s not too bad so far.

Just wait until your bones start to creak whenever you get out of bed.

I’ll keep a can of oil on my nightstand.

You grimace to yourself. Your worst joke to date, and you just hope you haven’t blown it.

Probably smart. 

My preferred method is lube, but…

Whatever works.

Your eyes widen.

Oh?

Yeah.

 My bones might creak but at least I can still fuck.

Well…shit.

You readjust your position on the sofa, desperately working to find a cool and relaxed and equally mysterious reply.

…so, no pressure.

Just be careful with all that lube. 

Wouldn’t want you to slip and fall.

Hope you’ve got Life Alert on speed dial.

Oh, I absolutely do. They love me over there.

You smirk to yourself, fighting yet another laugh. 

Yeah? Thank God.

Boy, I bet you’re a real stud with the ladies, huh?

Damn fucking right. 

This grandpa has moves.

I bet. Yeah, women love a man that squeaks when he thrusts.

They do, actually. I happen to squeak quite sensually.

Is that right?

It is.

Damn.

Might need to hear that for myself someday.

It was bold. Perhaps a little daring, and you don’t give yourself a chance to overthink it before turning your phone off and tossing it onto the other side of the sofa.

You give it five minutes before checking to see if he’s replied.

Thankfully, you have two notifications, delivered 3 minutes ago.

Yeah?

So what’s stopping you?

What is stopping you?

Probably a number of things, but instead of pointing out that he’s a complete stranger and could very well be a catfish (or even worse…that he might not even find you attractive) you decide to go with another joke.

All these Girl Scout cookies I gotta sell :/

Shit.

Yeah.

What if I bought a hundred boxes?

Then you’d have to hand deliver them to my door, right?

Your eyes roll playfully as you sigh.

That IS the Girl Scout policy, yes.

We pride ourselves on good service.

Fantastic, then I’ll take 100 boxes in the flavor of you.

Your lashes flutter as you reread the text, over, and over, and over. But before you can spiral…he’s sending another.

…shit, that was meant to be smooth.

Get it, cause…like, you know, get a taste of YOU. Like…if you were a cookie. 

Cause…I wanna taste you…

Explaining it makes it worse, doesn’t it?

 It should make it worse, but for some reason…he’s funny? And charming? And making your thighs squeeze together—

I think that can be arranged, yeah.

I’ll package them up nice and pretty, just for you.

Equally as cheesy, but apparently…cheese is where you both shine.

You hope he’s at least somewhat amused, and when he finally responds, your stomach flips.

This conversation is bad for my health.

Yeah?

Why’s that?

Because I’m in a meeting and I’m about to have a heart attack.

…why are you about to have a heart attack?

Oh, right. I forgot that happens at your old age.

Ha.

Funny.

Good thing you have Life Alert on speed dial.

Yeah, I don’t think Life Alert is gonna be able to help.

No? Why not?

Cause only one thing can save me now.

Cookies.

Your cookies.

To be exact.

See? Cheesy.

Wow, I was almost turned on and then…

Nope, there it goes.

Oh, is that what we’re doing? We’re trying to turn each other on?

Well, why didn’t you SAY so?

Hold on, I’ve got a few good ones.

Oh god.

Alright, here we go.

So…

What are you wearing?

…really? That’s all you’ve got?

Work with me please.

My gosh.

Clothes.

I have clothes on.

Yeah?

That’s a shame.

Two minutes go by without him adding anything else, and you can’t help but laugh when you realize that’s all he’s got.

Wowwwwww…

No, that was so good. I’m…holy shit, you just took my breath away. I’m so turned on right now.

I mean, my panties just FLEW across the room!

You’re THAT good!

Okay, very funny. 

I wasn’t done.

No, really. You gotta warn a girl before you just completely rock her world like that.

Honestly, I feel a little faint.

Where did you learn such a masterful technique? Really, you should teach a class on sexting, cause that was just…phew.

Listen, I was just trying to take it easy on you.

You know, ease you into my seduction before I gave it to you good and hard.

The last bit of his sentence has you stumbling over a gasp, but you simply clear your throat and work to find a response.

You have two options:

Either you tease him a bit more…

…or you ramp up the tension.

Well, by all means, Harry…

Give it to me good.

And hard.

He doesn’t respond for quite some time to this. And while you’d like to tell yourself that it’s because he’s just so turned on by your response…

…it’s more likely that you definitely fucked up and he wants nothing more to do with you.

But then…your phone dings.

Is that what you want then, hm?

Want it rough?

Shit, shit, shit.

Yeah.

If you think you can keep up.

Trust me, sweetheart, that won’t be a problem.

If you want it rough, I’m more than happy to oblige.

Is that why you texted me today?

Needed my help?

Truth be told, you don’t know why you texted him today, but you certainly aren’t upset with how things are going.

Me? Needing YOUR help?

Cute, but I think my fingers and I can manage just fine.

His response comes so fast, your head spins:

…fuck.

You smile.

Shit, okay now this conversation is REALLY bad for my health.

I might keel over right here in this meeting.

My death is on your hands, Cheese Girl.

Worth it.

You watch the bubbles float onto your screen for a good thirty seconds before they disappear.

Then, they appear again…just to dissipate before you can get your hopes up.

Finally—finally…a text.

Okay, listen, you don’t know me.

And I don’t know you.

I get that.

I’m a stranger, you’re a stranger.

But…

And hear me out…

What would you say to a phone call?

Your pulse stutters as you stare at his proposition, but he’s already sending his next text before you can decide if you’re really that stupid or not.

I know that’s asking a lot, but…

If you promise that you aren’t a 90-year-old man, and I promise I’m not some kid playing video games in his mom’s basement…

We could at least…have a real conversation.

And make sure that we really are who we say we are, you know?

And I could be assured that I didn’t just get a fucking boner in the middle of a busy boardroom cause of some perverted, internet creep that makes cheese jokes.

You hesitate.

Despite yourself, you are intrigued by the idea.

Worst-case scenario if he is some loser…you can just hang up and block his number.

And if he’s not…and he’s half as hot as you’re starting to hope he is…

You swallow.

Thickly.

I am not some perverted, internet creep that makes cheese jokes.

I’m just a regular creep that makes cheese jokes.

Promise.

And…yeah. 

I would be okay with a phone call.

As long as you do in fact promise I won’t regret it and that it won’t result in nightmares that haunt me for the rest of my life.

Ah, well…

Can’t say much for the regret…

But I do promise that I will try very hard not to give you nightmares.

God, are you really doing this?

Are you really doing this?

Alright, then…

Oh, so you’re doing it. You’re really that dumb. You really just let a complete stranger convince you to call him, even though he could be a serial killer, or a psycho, or—

Your phone rings.

You see his name pop up in large print as the cellphone just about flies out of your hand.

Scrambling to keep it steady, you lurch forward and collect a deep breath.

You can do this.

You can do this.

You’ll give him thirty seconds. And if he seems creepy…you’ll hang up, and you’ll move on.

And you’ll never get random boys in bars numbers again.

You press your thumb into the button on your screen and slide it to the right.

Here goes nothing.

“…hello?”

~ iFall for Harry pt. 3 (the third part to this!)

~ Full iFall for Harry Masterlist

~ More Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Tag List:

@tinyhrry @supersanelyromantic @lomlhstyles

[ofnightshadeandthornyroses]

Don't Hide Pt 2

Paul x reader

"Look I just really don't know what to do with that, and what he said made it sound like he's a local or at least frequents the place." You sip your drink before flopping down on the bed, still clutching the phone and listening to you sister and her endless knowledge of the dating scene. "With what you said it sounds like he was interested in you. All those girls but still he stopped at you." A pause. "I mean he did say he hadn't seen you around so there's always that 'new shiny toy' factor, but!!" Your mind was racing. New shiny toy? I hadn't even thought about that! I was just to panicked that I actually flirted with someone somewhat successfully and they initiated it! "You could've caught his attention, you said he was pretty cute right?" Sounds of chips crunching on the other end interrupted your response of 'yeah' "So if you see him again, and if you want to, try and flirt with him again. See if he's interested. Anything else happen that wasn't on the carousel?" More crunching. Your finger was now curling and uncurling in the cord as you remember something at the end. "I guess? Maybe? After I left I looked back and he was with his friends but he was already looking at me but I might have done something before that, it's a little embarrassing..." "Go on!" The pleading demand coming out muffled through a mouth that was undoubtedly full of chips. "Before I told him not to hide, I kinda took his lollipop out of his mouth and after I sorta put it in mine in front of him?" The end of your retelling came out sounding more like a question and you could the sound of your sister inhaling and promptly choking on her chips. You didn't mean to kill her really. You grimace, "Sorry-" "Sorry? Why didn't you tell me this! Oh, you bold fucker! You definitely had to have hooked him a bit! If he doesn't come up to you he's fucking numb or shy from what you did. Please God or whomever the fuck let my sibling finally get someone or some action at least." "Oh my frog-" "No child you listen–" "I'm older tha-" "-you need to try to make a small a miniscule effort to talk to this guy. I'm talking at least eye contact, a smile, a wave, head tilt, whatever! Just something. Even a sign to him. You do this and it's a mile stone. You do this and you could do it again and build up to something more. Remember it's the anticipation of what hasn't happened that's scary." "So I do this and I can do anything? That's mighty cheesy" "I didn't say that. But you could build up to more. It certainly gets a little easier once you've done it. It was hard for me at first as well, but I had the advantage of semi-popularity and friends that would cheer me on and and we could laugh about it later. I know it's a little harder for you but remember you got yourself a personal cheerleader a phone call away." Laying on your side playing with the cord, a fond smile grew on your face. "Thanks sis, I really appreciate this. I probably would've been spiraling out of my head without you by now." "That's what I'm here for! I've got to go, but hey! You get ready and go out! FIND THAT MAN! Give a little smile and a wave, maybe a wink~." "Ughaagh!" "I love you, bye!" "Bye, love you." You put the phone back up and laid there for minute just looking at the wall not really seeing it, not even thinking. Then, your brain decided to start working on double time. If I do this would it actually go well? Would it go bad? He stayed looking yesterday. What does that even mean? Did you make a big mistake even looking at him? Did you do the stupidest thing in history by taking his candy? AND PUTTING IT IN YOUR MOUTH!? OH YOU DUMB FROGGER, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE! Maybe you should try? Maybe not, "no" or go "away" is NOT the worst he could say. Okay could it be that bad? He probably forgot about you, okay?

But the prospect of maybe having a someone made your heart feel like a ton of moths decided that it was their new home. You had always seen those couples on campus, one leaning on cars or walls wile the other leaned over them, making the other flustered or both laughing. Just thinking about maybe having a chance at that, having someone to fluster you or the other way around. Holding someone's hands because you could, holding them because you could, holding their face because–well.

This gave you a sense of anxious determination. With a hint of spite. You could never have something like that before, even when you tried. People were cruel, they hurt you, bones and shiny things couldn't hurt you. Maybe you would go, and maybe you would, if you saw him, smile and wave. This wasn't the campus or highschool, hell it's definitely not home. If you need to ignore him, you could. Why not? —•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•— So, you're here, and have been for about an hour before the sun finally started going down. This wouldn't be an issue at all except you've had an eye out for that pretty hurricane of blonde hair from the night before, and the anticipation of seeing them again slowly frying your nerves.

You stroll along some small stores, the chains on your boots and hip clinking as you walk. Eyes catching a shop advertising they sell 'Assortments for the damned', immediately interested you walk closer and open the glass door covered with a thick curtain.

Immediately you can see small weapons, jewelry, and crystals on a display case. Walking around there's discovered to be books on witchcraft, Satanism, the supernatural, apothecary, rituals, and beginners manuals. In the back left corner there's a display of sex toys and lingerie which is out numbered by the amount of fetish wear and toys for those obviously into more hard-core stuff that's right by it. There a section of actually weapons; swords, axes, hatchets, maces, flails, etc. Many intricately made or decorated with stones. Along side it was gardening supplies along with gas masks. Sections of fabric took up half a wall along with dried plants, pastes, and animal parts.

It felt like a play ground honestly. Maybe you would need to work on more crafts to sell, because you just might end up broke before you have to go back. But was it really your fault? You hadn't seen most of this stuff anywhere else and it was like putting live prey with a starving animal and asking it to wait a while more– cruel, tempting, and plain fucking stupid.

By the time you made it up to the front desk someone came stumbling out from behind a beaded curtain behind it. "Oh- Hi! Sorry it took a bit. Looking for anything in particular? Find anything you like?" Their short curly hair looked as if it's been through a storm and silver bangles clink on their hands. You find a name tag on their long apron which reads 'Andy–they/them'.

"I practically love everything here, I just might go broke if I can't find clients." They chuckle and push their glasses up their nose looking thoughtful. "Well it's great to hear you're enjoying the shop and as well as the clientele part, depending on what you sell we might be able to help with that. My boss tends to house and sell many locals wears for them here, only taking a small amount, on agreement of course, for the pay of the worker who helped sell it. I can give you a card if you'd like?"

You were struck dumb for a second almost refusing to believe your luck. This store, this store, could possibly house your crafts and you might actually be able to one–extend your stay and continue to hide from your parents and two–by something shiny when you wanted. You were baffled not stupid, also you were quiet and they were still looking at you. "Um, yes, oh frog. I definitely would like one, thank you!" Were you getting to loud, maybe a tad, but they giggled and put their finger up as they crouched down behind the counter.

"Give me just a moment. We don't keep my boss's cards up top for the taking so they tend to get pushed around." You left them to it and looked around the front counter, smaller concelable weapons made to look like other objects and just straight up decorated to look as pretty as they are painful make up a good amount of the displays. Andy popped back up holding a card like it was a prize ribbon as you were checking out what looked to be modified brass nuckles with jagged ends in shapes of animals, one even a Christmas tree.

"Here's her card, it has her number and mailing address, but please do call to set something up first. Oh, do you like those? We just got a new shipment in this morning! If you give me just a minute I can go get them right now!" They scurried through the curtain and back in less than a minute and set a medium box on the counter. After taking out a box cutter, they opened it and started taking out thin foam layers separating the metal peices and laying them out.

"Now these ones are our self defense keychains, they have holes for you to slip your fingers in similar to regular brass knuckles but with a nice sharp, cute twist." You scanned over the items feeling like a little kid all over again. Honestly, you didn't know what to do when she disappeared behind the curtain in search of the shipment, so in a mixed state of confusion and curious, you stated put. Oh are you glad you did. There were so many, moths, presents, birds, cats, hats. One that really caught your eye was the teeth. That not even the right word, right one would be fangs. The finger holes were in the gums and part of the other teeth in between the the sharpened teeth. There were blood marks on them as well, leading to believe what ever they're supposed to belong to fed on something with fresh blood. You had to have it. "Oh now this is extremely beautiful!" You said holding it up. "It is, and it definitely fits your little bat necklace. It's cute." The bat necklace in reference was the one from the night before. "We have other hidden weapons here too if you like to see." A very quick nod. "We have these necklaces over here that look like little hearts with daggers in them, which," Andy takes hold of one and pulls the blade out."They are. Then for wrists we have bands with daggers in intricate sheaths. They could look like decorations until you actual pull them out." Shiny, sharp, and pretty!  Your mind was probably breaking a sound barrier somewhere with how high pitched that came out in your own In the end you walked out with the fang keychain, a pair of arm bands, AND the necklace. Gosh you're asucker for shiny and sharp. You can't even blame Andy for your lack of self control, they were a great help and, really, were just doing their job. You fidget with the card in your hand a bit before finaly putting it in your bag. Passing by a food stand you see a container of bright candy in clear wrapping, lollipops, your brains supplies oh not so very helpfully. Did you decide you were gonna try? Yes, yes you did. Does that mean you're actually going to try and think about him the whole time when he already keeps constantly popping up and you have to constantly keep replaying the stunt you pulled. No, no you're not. And does this mean that because he keeps popping up in your head and making you feel more anxious and stupid by the second that in the end you might end up making a fool, tucking tail, and hauling ass? Uhhh- You were staring. The attendant was speaking. You hadn't even revised you had stopped. "I-I'm sorry, can you repeat that?" "I said," she looks exasperated already "Are you wanting one?" She had a pulled smile, the one you give customers when you want to add something else but you shouldn't. Just by her tone and expression you felt like you could hear the unsaid, "Or are you just going to block up the counter?" Feeling a bit embarrassed now you went went to say"No, sorry" but what came out was "Um, sorry, yes m-ma'am, cherry please. Thank you." This happened most times you were caught off guard, starring at something on a stand or store because you're either just in you're own mind or a memory. The embarrassment catches and usually ends with you buying whatever it was or doing a weird scurry of shame away.

Cherry wasn't even your favorite. Usually not even your top three choices, but you knew why you picked it. After your feet finally started moving again your brain, what was left of the flaming hot mush it had become, registered the flavor of the candy as cherry. It made sense really. You remember going over the memories before having the time to be properly mortified and remembering the way the sticky red residue you could see on his lips when you looked, shiny, pretty.

His teeth had a red sheen to it from the candy, even a little dribble of red dyed saliva could be seen at the corner of his mouth. Pretty. Shiny. He looked good with red. Reminds you of a glam rocker too. Oh frog.

You open the candy, plop it in then lean against a wall a couple feet into an alley to hopefully have a mental freak out in peace and not look like a total freak in public from going so far into your head. Glam rockers are shiny, and he's hot, and this is not helping. Seriously the intrusive thought of him in shiny red eyeshadow, hair all blown out, in shiny outfits with cut out and/or mesh, had you on your knees.

Like, actually, in the alley crouched down, head in your crossed arms, unable to stop the thoughts of a man who already had dressed like a hot punk, like a hot glam rocker, and now the thoughts are transforming saying 'hey you know, he'd look fucking hot if he was in a metal band'. The thought has you sinking lower on the ground, butt now firmly planted with your knees up so you can still successfully fold your arms on told and mock bury yourself a thoughts of glitter and tight outfits are joined by tight shiny leather, belts, spikes, and chains. The blown out hair stayed.

You stayed there for a while, tasting cherry and thinking, not relising that the very last light of sunset had finally passed, tuning out the foot traffic of the boardwalk, ignoring the way your butt and become numb and how your body tugged.

You tuned out this as well as the melodic sound of chains, boots, and rubbing leather. You didn't hear someone come into the alley or when they first said 'hey, sugar'.

Your brain only slightly registered the sound of chains hitting the ground. It completely registered the touch to your knee that your fairy skirt had had left bare, shocking your head up and into the chin of the unknown man who stumbled back from his crouch and landed on his rear.

You both groan, as you hold the top of your head and him his chin. "Damn sugar, didn't mean to scare you like that."

You look up finally noticing that this man isn't unknown at all, it's the man from before. Blown out blonde hair and blue eyes that were subjects of fantasies just moments before were in front of you, looking at you. You look down, not now, why now? "I'm sorry I didn't mean to hit you, didn't scare just, startled."

Trying to look everywhere but his face wasn't working. Today he was in his jacket from before and a band shirt, cut off and cut up, the jagged 'M' and 'A' being the only tell it used to say Matellica. The mesh shirt underneath it was pull tight by his position he was still in, legs spread and bent in criminally tight ripped jeans with chains and a fucking bondage belt.

Seriously why me, why you, why now!?  He's holding himself up with one hand behind him and the other rubbing at his chin though seeming distracted –and what is that look? Oh frog I've been staring-ogling! He saw that! Saw me! Of course he saw you you're faces are maybe three feet away maximum. But does that mean he was looking at me? Well you just hit his chin dingus. But why is he here? Um, He lives here? Maybe? I don't know? But why is he here, with me.

"Hey sweetness, you alive?"  You were staring, still. And he had that lazy smug grin on his face. Oh FROG. "Yeah, I'm alive." You say with absolute genius. Though in your defense you were also using about 90% of your brain power to be alive.

Flirting, interaction, crushes in general were never your strong suit. You always get flustered so easily, by the moment or your own thoughts. And being flustered leads to being embarrassed which leads to you fleeing or just silently standing there, awkwardly.

"Well that's great news sweetheart, hadn't been able to tell until you spoke up, those cute eyes of your staring my way. Would've thought you were a statue." He grins that grin and starts pushing himself more up.

What he says hits uou "sweetheart" "cute" "staring". You were staring. Oh f r o g. That feeling hits again, the one of embarrassment, your cheeks burning. "Im sorry, very sorry for your chin and staring." You start to turn the corner. Fleeing. You were fleeing.

Or was until you felt a hand tugged in your sleeve. You turn back and the he is with big blue eyes pand a slight confused look"No need to be sorry babe, where you going?" You look up at him "Away?" Not quite sure what's happening yourself. He pulls your sleeve, as well as you closer. "Well why that? Why don't we walk around see where to night takes us?" You didn't want to, not because of him, but you. Being by him made you anxious, his pretty face made you fidget nervously.

What if I mess it up, and he thinks I'm weird or disgusting? What if something goes wrong, there's so many people here? What if it goes great? Where do I go from there? Your sister voice filter through you brain. You won't know unless you try, something she's always saying, take a chance make a risk. If you never want to see him again you won't have to, live a little.

You get yourself together and look up at his waiting expression, "Yeah, I'd like too"

If you'd like to support a writer in desperate need of some tea and snack or you're interested in commissions from me dm me! Won't do smut.

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[haneys]

I have new ocs btw lol and once again they came to me inna dream. breezy surferbro bleached blonde. roots showing five o'clock shadow on. flip flops on. Hawaiian shirt flaying open. corny top scars tatts. he really dgaf. trans biaro. he's just kinds letting the days go by chilling and being dope. no the sharpest tool in the shed but he emits chill vibes plus is a handyman so ppl vibe with him. big family. there's also this other guy who's kinda a rich fail son that's being very burned out by the whole yoire gonna take iver the company from ur dad so now ur basicislly being ceo junior and trying to learn how to not tank it. and there's also the dad. the dad was like the fucking vampire dad from hotel transylvania fucking help me. surfbro and failson met for a brief moment because the Richfam were doing some how about we all spend a day like Nirmal People I prommy were not detached from how normal people live trust me. and then they were having like the worst day in the beach the dad was really like well this fucking sucks while the mom (I want her so bad) was like meh but also thought it was funny to see the dad be mad as hell. failson before all that was like yeah I'm straight I'm just so busy with the whole ceo thing I don't have the time to date and think abt women👍 and then he ran into the surfbro amd he was like oh I am a homo. cool. this is not confusing at all and also I'm gonna behave so normal and natural rn. surely. and it was like the worst floppiest try at flirting ever. and I mean to be fair he kinda just had a personal revelation and also tried to date like probably once in his life but still it was really funny to see. surfbrobdidnt even register he was being hit on. he was like you're kinda weird lol let's hang out. failson had like heart eyes aura the entire time. the dad was like YOURE FUCKING KIDDING ME.???? he really didn't like that. not even the fact that turns out his son is gay he dgaf it was just the person he chose. like litersly super diving behind a McDonald's wpuld get someone better. he was seething and malding. the mom thought it was VERY VERY funny exactly because he was malding. but oh well the day comes to and end and thay all can move on surely right. 🤨 wrong. anyway to make it short failson gets surfbro to work for him, mostly secretary style, since he was looking for a more stable job than his odd jobs and repair work around the neighborhood. failson is having a great time. the mom really likes surfbro and thinks he's funny to have around. all the staff loves him. the dad tries to kill him. I mean no like litersly he's so mad 80% of the dream was dad teying to kill him looney tunes style he tried to drop a piano on him. he tried to flatten him with a mullet. the got surfbro escaping a big rolling stone. litersly cartoon saw traps. but surfbro has maxed out luck Stat he isn't even AVARE. failson is like hey I know my dad doesn't like u too much I hope he haven't been giving u any problems and surfbro is like nah it's ok 👍 unaware there's an angry lion waiting for him in the break room but becayse if bizzare chain if events he ends up safe and sound and the lion mauls the dad etc. it was so so so great. genuelly the dad surfbro stuff was better to me than the gay love winning thing. truly the dream of all time

[strawberri-elixir]

— Notice anything? — ~ R. Itoshi ~

╰⇢ In which you decide to poke a little fun at your usually expressionless boyfriend. Only, his reactions aren’t what you expected

Requested: Absolutely! Right here

Pairing: Rin Itoshi x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None(?) but this is a High school AU with all the different characters, so it doesn’t follow plot at all.

Note: Thank you so much for letting me write this for you. I tried my best to get it how you envisioned it. Enjoy!

“Good game as always, love.” You give your boyfriend a pat on the back.

“Mhm, thanks.” Was all he said as he looked around for his teammates.

Once he found who he was looking for, he walked over to the group of guys who were all happily chatting with their girlfriends. Leaving you to stand there, hurt that he brushed you off.

But you quickly regain your composure and join him and his teammates. You notice a few of your friends, who were also dating soccer players, standing around as well.

“Oh, perfect! Come here real quick!” Your friend waved you over.

“What’s up?” You hover over to them.

“Have you seen those tiktok trends that couples do?” She turns her phone screen over to face you, a video of a couple doing one of those cute photo trends. “Wouldn’t it be so cute to do one of these with them?”

You glance over to the boys in question, looking for your boyfriend. Rin was still deep in conversation with one of his teammates. Isagi was it? The more you thought about it, the funnier you sounded.

“There’s absolutely no way that Rin would do one of those trends with me.” You give a small chuckle. “He’d probably think it’s a waste of time.”

“Just give one a try! What’s the worst that could happen?” She gives you a nudge.

Maybe giving it a shot wouldn’t do so bad.

So you thought you would try a little something. Not too much, but maybe just something cute. Like a little prank or one of those texting questions. What could go wrong?

A lot could go wrong apparently. Now, not only did you get a rude awakening about your boyfriend’s opinions on Disney princess’s, you also had this ache in your chest.

Surely he didn’t mean it… right?

Right! You decided to try again tomorrow. But what would you do to get a good reaction out of him?

You send a quick message to your friends asking about possible ideas.

Ignore him. Well, the original idea was to ignore his affections, but seeing as Rin never initiates any sort of affection, ignoring him completely might work.

You walk to school, not bothering to wait for your boyfriend like usual as you enter. Normally, you'd wait for him and talk with him from your lockers to your class. But now that you thought of it, the conversations were rather one-sided.

A little while later, you settled into your seat as the teacher began his lecture. As he starts writing stuff down on the board, the door bursts open, effectively stooping the lesson momentarily.

"You're late Mr. Itoshi." Your teacher resumed his writing. "Hurry up and take your seat."

The dark haired boy silently complied and took his seat next to you, looking confused as he saw you sitting in your seat.

"Where were you?" He whispered.

Unfortunately, his question fell on deaf ears as you ignored him and kept writing, not even bothering to look up at him. He just scoffed and focused on the task at hand.

You kept going for the rest of the day, walking away whenever he approached and not answering him when he tried talking to you.

Days turned into weeks. You moved on from completely ignoring him to giving him half-assed responses. All of that, and he still didn't care.

"He doesn't love me." You dramatically flop onto your friend's bed. She was the poor soul who got all of your rants about how Rin wouldn't bother trying to fix whatever was wrong and continued to act as if nothing even happened. Even his teammates picked up on it!

"Don't say that." She chuckled. "If he didn't love you, he would've broken up with you by now."

"But still! He hasn't even bothered to ask if something was wrong! It's like all this is normal for him!" You groan.

“Well me and the other girls tried this one trend on our boyfriends, maybe you could try it on Rin. Give yourself a reason to be mad at him.”

An actual reason to express your anger? That sounds a little too good to be true. But if it meant that Rin would finally acknowledge your attempts, why not?

“What is it?” You sit up.

“So basically you go up to Rin and tell him you look different from yesterday, and you ask him if he knows what changed”

“Pfft. Knowing him, he’d say nothing.”

“Well then you can use that as an excuse to just be mad at him! Besides, most of our boyfriends said nothing looks different anyways, so nothing bad can happen.”

After being ignored for so long, you did have some pent up anger in your system. Maybe you could give it a shot?

“Rin!” Your boyfriend looks over as you run up to him.

“What?” His eyes widen slightly as you use his given name rather than a sappy nickname.

“I look different from yesterday! Can you guess what it is?”

Now for the fun to begin.

“Your bangs.” He pushed your hair out of your eyes.

Huh?

“Just the same!”

“Makeup?”

Well technically you had to use a different foundation today because your old one ran out… doesn’t count though.

“It’s the same.”

“Your eyebrows.”

You were in a rush this morning and didn’t have time to fix your eyebrows, but they’re still the same.

“Nope!”

“And your nails?”

Nothing changed with your nails.

“Still the same~!”

“Where’s the difference?” He finally let out a sigh of defeat.

“Look closely silly!”

He leaned forward, scanning every inch of your face and body, trying to figure out what you changed about yourself. “I don’t know…”

“Give up?” You grin.

“Yeah, I give up.” He finally admits defeat, giving you a fearful look, like you’ll snap at him for not noticing.

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. It was funny to see your stoic boyfriend crumble at your mercy.

“Actually, nothing’s changed…” You look around the two of you. Anywhere but into the set of teal eyes staring at you in confusion.

“What?” His eyebrows furrow.

“I just wanted your attention.” A blush found its way onto your features.

After taking a second to process the information, Rin lets out what you believe to be a sigh of relief.

“What?” You shoot him a look.

“My friends were right.” He suddenly pulled you into a tight hug.

“Right about what?” You leaned into him more, appreciating the hug.

"They told me about how you would probably do something like this because I haven't put much effort into our relationship."

He finally admitted his behavior out loud. You couldn't but feel emotional. It was like all your efforts were finally acknowledged.

You let yourself breathe a sigh of relief as you reciprocate his hug.

"I was being immature, I should've just talked to you about it. I'm sorry." You sigh.

"Don't be sorry, I'm just glad you're not mad."

"Oh she definitely was!" Your friend steps out from around the corner.

"You should've seen how worried Rin was when we told him about your little plan." Isagi pokes his head out. "He was scared shitless."

"You told him?" You turned to your friend in confusion.

"Yep!" She exclaimed. "We figured it would be a fun way to get Rin to realize how bad he makes you feel sometimes."

You turn your attention back to Rin who's glaring at the duo, a faint blush on his cheeks. "Rin? What are they talking about?"

"Nothing." He grumbles.

You look between your friends and your boyfriend, everything coming together. The prank suggestions. The whole 'looking different' idea. The responses he gave to you. It all made sense.

You couldn't help but let out a laugh, it was all ridiculous. Rin didn't say anything else, just hugged you tighter.

"I know I'm not the best at showing my true feelings but... I love you." He whispered.

"I love you too." You smiled.

~ Please do not repost on other platforms! ~

[jesseweneedtocuck]

I have some houseplants and I used to be really good about taking care of them but in the past year or two I’ve really fallen out of it (depression? College? Everything? Most likely a combo) and I‘ve neglected the non-watering routine plant maintenance I should be doing. Anyway, I just did some much needed repotting yesterday and one of my plants was super root bound and had some root rot and was just. In a bad spot. So I got it repotted into a bigger pot with better drainage and cut away some of the bad looking roots and 3 out of 4 plants are looking good

The forth one, however, is not doing well. The 3 others are standing up straight, while this one flops off to the side. The leaves feel flimsy and are slightly too yellow and worst of all, if you lean in close and smell the stem, it faintly smells like it’s rotting, which is like a death sentence for a plant. I think it looked a little dodgy yesterday when replanted them but I honestly can’t remember. I either didn’t cut enough roots away, or I cut too much away, or it was already too far gone when I took care of it yesterday. Regardless, it’s probably not gonna live. And it sucks. So much.

Having plants die has really killed my enthusiasm for plant keeping. It’s like, I have this plant, this little guy who can’t move, can’t talk, can’t choose otherwise, and it’s my job to take care of it. They have no other option than to depend on me. Then, when I fuck up, the plant dies. And that failure of basic care is completely on me. I control the room, I control the water, I do routine maintenance, I don’t control the sun but I control the plant’s placement in regards to heat register/window which is really important, and that mismanagement feels so incredibly personal. Like looking at that dying plant and thinking of everything you should’ve done differently is probably one of my worst feelings I’ve ever experienced to date. Like that plant relied solely on me and I failed it.

Anyways. There isn’t really a point to this I just get so sad over my plants and I wanted to vent.

[runningdownathunderoushill]

I only made this account because I wanted to respond on my main, which is a personal blog, and didn't feel like spamming my mutuals with a show that they hate. And I genuinely wasn't hating. I was more perplexed than anything and I had a feeling that you'd respond negatively to anyone mentioning Rina despite clogging every HSMTMTS tag with your complaints about the ship as if it's the worst thing on the show.

As for the chemistry thing, I very much have been watching all of their scenes equally since season 1 and I still fail to see how Rini or Portwell is somehow better chemistry wise, (even ship wise, but I'll get to that later). I personally only ever saw Rini's chemistry in one episode, and that was the same episode where they made Gina absent because her mom took her out of the country. Kind of similar to how they lessened Joshua and Sofia's scenes together in season 2b when they wanted Portwell to get closer. I just find it funny that on more than one occasion, we've witnessed the writers who've admitted that they decided to start taking Rina seriously based off of Sofia and Joshua's chemistry alone, literally have to limit their scenes together in order to help people root for another ship. Just kind of telling in my opinion. I'll also argue that Rina's kiss scenes don't feel forced at all and actually seem so natural that people are still wondering if a few of them were improvised since they admitted to improvising some of their scenes together.

It took them exactly 31 episodes to even pursue a relationship, so I'd say that more than any ship, especially your precious little dead one, they've had the most gradual build up on the show. He had feelings for Gina during season 1 and half of his season 2 arc focused on him trying to save his barely hanging on relationship with Nini, despite season 4 finally confirming that during the Valentine's Day episode, he was still suppressing feelings for Gina, I find it funny how the same people who constantly weaponize mental health and act as if therapy is a drag would've somehow wanted Ricky to emotionally cheat on Nini during the season where they dated for half of it. That's actually one of the few good things he did during his relationship with Nini, not cheat on her. But because his feelings for Gina didn't come back to the surface until season 3, you want to dismiss what was clearly and explicitly there if you didn't have your Portwell goggles on so tight since season 1.

If all Ricky did was run, then why is it that when EJ was failing to show up for her, you claim it's bad writing all because it didn't work out for your ship? People can change. That happens in real life. You wanted Gina to settle for unhappiness all because most of you just like EJ and hate Gina because you were Rinis who hated her during the love triangle that started the show. You can't even be happy that EJ has Val, who he confided in more than his own girlfriend, because you're so stuck in the past that you think characters having growth and making decisions for the better is bad writing until it serves your ship right. Now you'll always be bitter, even if the writers have to scream in your faces that you had it wrong. And I don't know how old you are, but you and I both know you're way too old to be behaving like this over a flopped ship.

Ricky and Gina actually had the best communication out of all of the couples on the show. You claim Ricky wouldn't have done anything without EJ, yet they've been teasing the love confession for the entire season. That was something you could see coming no matter who interfered. He was literally planning to tell her he loved her on opening night, before EJ even showed up. EJ was the one asking Ricky what was wrong with Gina all throughout season 3, but somehow you think that's acceptable because you have this weird bias towards his character and given your Rini history I know for a fact you probably wanted him dead during season 1. Funny how that's the season you're so attached to yet you forget how poorly written EJ was.

Ricky has never made an effort as much as the efforts he's been making for Gina for the past two seasons. You claim he was always showing up for Nini, yet he went above and beyond for Gina. He didn't sabotage Gina. Gina didn't feel suffocated by him. That's why they're the couple that works the best on the show. If Rini was the planned endgame, explain why less than 5 minutes after their love confession, Tim was already showing signs that it was doomed to fail by having Nini hide something from him within the last few seconds of the season? Explain why in 2020, before Olivia blew up, he'd already written and filmed three episodes of season 2 that showed how badly Rini's communication was and how they were never on the same page. If Portwell was as beautiful as you claimed it was, why was he essentially a rebound for Gina to attempt to get over her feelings for Ricky? EJ's time on the show was always going to be cut short with him being a senior and Gina being a sophomore in the beginning. If that screamed "ENDGAME" to you, especially with Rina having unfinished business, I can't even begin to tell you how naive you are.

The only thing Portwell has in common with those other ships, one of them involving a sexual assaulter at that, is that they were never meant to be the endgame for the characters. Midgames are also a thing in television. You let a midgame trick you into thinking they were ever going to be something more, and that's no one's fault other than your own.

In 10-15 years, Tim already confirmed Rina would still be together. When Nini came back, Ricky was more concerned with Gina's approval than Nini's presence. EJ said he's in a good place with Val, who comforted him when no one else would.

The Troyella thing also has nothing to do with Rina. That way, you'd still be pushing it to apply to Rini considering you swore up and down they were the true Troyella of the show. The point of HSM 4 in the series is that it's meant to be bad and inaccurate, written by a director who's never seen the films and basically makes it more like a parody than anything. Kenny isn't a part of it. It has no impact in real life. But you know what has impact forever and after that?

The one and only, ENDGAME ship....

Rina.

Hi! This isn't meant to be hate, and while I do very much disagree on the chemistry conversation, I understand that must be something that's subjective. I don't understand however, how R*na is supposed to be considered unhealthy, when there's even been friendships on the show that were less healthy than they ever were. I'm just not sure where that came from and I want to know what I missed.

Hey. First off I find it a little odd that your tumblr has no action on it. Makes me think maybe you created it so that whatever your main one is people don't see you asking stuff like this. But it's okay whatever let's ignore that it's not that important. Next whenever anyone says they don't mean it to be hate they actually mean that it's hate. But okay i'll indulge you. I shouldn't because it's always a bad idea but let's go for it.

The chemistry thing is obvious. Just compare Josh's scenes with Olivia and his scenes with Sofia. Compare Matts scenes with Sofia and his scenes with Olivia. Olivia/Josh & Matt/Sofia have natural chemistry & when they kiss or touch or look at each other it feels natural it's not forced.

All the Rina stuff feels super forced and over the top acted. Never said Rina was unhealthy as far as I remember. But they had a terrible buildup. Okay yes they had moments in the early seasons but they were not exciting enough for me to care or remember them.

If they had a gradual buildup that made sense then I'd give them the benefit of the doubt. But all Ricky did was ignore Gina for 3 seasons and then suddenly catch feelings last season. He had no interest in her until Nini left. And even this season he was a terrible boyfriend. He never communicated and he just ran away all the time. And he had to go to EJ to get help on how to interact with his girlfriend instead of just talking to her like a normal person. EJ told him to go to her in the rain and EJ told him to sing her a song at the end. If he didn't have EJ would he have done it himself? Probably not. The kid needs therapy and to grow up. He is not mature enough to keep a relationship or stay in one. Maybe if he worked on himself then that's another story.

Now lets talk about EJ & Gina. I mean they had the best buildup. Enemies to Lovers. They built each other up. They saw the best in each other. He went to the freaking airport for her. He showed up for her. And the whole camp thing was obviously just written to make him look like an idiot and horrible boyfriend so the Ricky/Gina thing would seem like it somewhat made sense but it still didn't and for a growth arc. Because you can't go from giving your 100% to nothing that quick. Come on it's just not realistic. But then this season he grew as a person/matured as a person. He learned from his mistakes and apologized for them. He communicated with Gina. He was there for her and he didn't need to have someone tell him what to do. He was just there as a friend for her after all the shit she put him through. He had her back. He showed up for her when she needed him. All Ricky did was run and run and run.

I'd respect Rina if Ricky made more of an effort the first 3 seasons. If he acknowledged stuff but he just was always making an effort with Nini. And I still will forever believe they were the endgame but Olivia left and Tim was like well we have no other choice now but to put him with Gina. Cause there is no reason for a beautiful enemies to lovers buildup just for a plot device. I'm sorry there just isn't.

Ej & Gina just have so many of the same things that Pacey/Joey & Jess/Rory have and they are the gold standard. So obviously if Tim were not writing this show and Olivia had not left we would have had EJ/GINA thriving this last season.

But you know what it's okay because this show takes place in high school. So 10-15 years down the line Ricky/Nini will be back together and so will EJ/Gina. They are the one that got away ship that ends up together a long time down the road.

I'll leave you with one last thing. They model themselves after Troy/Gabriella supposedly. Well Troy/Gabriella are in therapy. HAHA sorry to break it to you but your endgame is toast.

This is my opinion don't agree or agree with it I don't care. But you asked me so this is what you get.

AND I WILL NOT RESPOND TO ANY OTHER RESPONSES TO THIS OR ANY OTHER ASKS THAT COME AFTER THIS. THIS WAS A ONE TIME RESPONSE. CAUSE I KNOW THIS WILL BE A THING AND I'M NOT GOING DOWN THIS RABBIT HOLE.

[coffee-or-murder]

Olly: Rambling With Bees

Drabble that turned into nearly four pages of Olly ranting about a guy he has a crush on at his bees. He spends most of it either talking about how pretty the guy is, how he shouldn’t make a move because he’s divorced and recovering from all that, OR just mad at himself for not noticing how bad his crush had gotten. He’s a fool and would not let me work on literally any other WIPs until I finished this one. Idea brought about because of some silly fun sandbox play :D

All those years of monk therapy bullshit did kinda pay off. Sorta. At least enough so Olly can notice when he needs to decompress before he seriously spirals out again. He’d let his staff at the bakery know he’d be at home today, and they could handle themselves alone for twenty-four hours without setting a fire. Hopefully. Probably. Fuck it they’ll be fine Lemon’s shift lead.  

After a frankly shit night of sleep, full from a big breakfast and a little stoned, the tiefling was finally steady enough to try to get his shit together. Olly steps out into his back garden, does a quick glance around the perimeter, and takes a deep breath. It’s just early enough that the spring morning still feels a little crisp, the delicate scent of bee balm and lavender from the tidy garden beds drift over on a light breeze, and the sun is already high enough to beam down in shafts through the oaks dotted around the yard. All in all, not the worst morning to have a heart to heart with yourself. Could be worse. Could be raining. Olly fiddles with the little carved wooden ring around his middle finger, flicking the spinning inside ring once and watching as it flashes bright yellow. The glow brightens for a breath before sinking into the tiny carved animal faces on the ring and puts them in stark relief against the dark brown wood, the little bee glowing the brightest of them all. Handy dandy animal friendship spell in place, he heads over to the back of the yard, plucking a handful of blooms as he goes before flopping inelegantly in front of the largest of the hives in the center of the neat little trio of bee houses along the back fence. He sighs loudly, letting all the air push out of his lungs and folding his flower-filled hands on his stomach to settle in for a long stupid emotional talk. 

 “I wanna try askin him out. Fuckin gods above do I wanna try, but I shouldn’t. Don’t wanna make him feel uncomfortable cause I decide ta try flirtin with him like some shit fer brains asshole who can’t take a hint and just be his friend,” he grumbles as he huffs loudly to himself. A small swarm of bees file out of the hive and start buzzing around him, a couple landing on the flowers on his chest and getting to work doing their bee thing. Olly smiles softly at the sight before the image of the previous night pops back into his head and he scowls. He can easily recall how his fingers had wound through long brown hair and braided it away from that stupidly pretty man’s face. All because Olly just couldn’t resist trying to take care of him after the man had backed Olly up in some dumbass bar fight. “I was pushin my fuckin luck tyin his hair back fer him and I knew it. He was kinda tipsy after all, and yeah we’d just wrapped up a bit of a scuffle at the bar so maybe he wasn’t all that tipsy after that, but he…he uh…after I fixed his hair fer ‘em he-shit-well he…he kissed my cheek and had me walk ‘im back ta his room. I bolted before he’d even closed the door all the way. Just wanted it ta be an actual date so bad so I could kiss his stupid fuckin hand goodnight or somethin and didn’t trust it not ta show of my fuckin dumbass glass head,” Olly growled low, his chest rumbling with the sound. There was an answering buzz from the hives around him and he sighed, sinking further into the thick clover below as he focused on breathing again. Another bee landed on his hand. He stopped growling. 

“Yeah if he didn’t wanna give us a go he wouldn’t be a prick about it. Put on the fuckin five-o boss man voice and all, walk me through all the feelings cause he’s good like that, put me down real gentle. Yeah sure. He’d do that. Stay friends after the pity period too. Wouldn’t be the worst outcome,” he says, wincing as he imagines how that talk would go. Might have to bite the bolt and just let that happen anyway. Get it all out in the open. Shit he didn’t wanna have to sit through that. More bees came out of the hives, slowly beginning to dart in the air above him, little yellow and black bodies humming all together. Some broke off to go into the flower beds and others stayed to investigate their prone keeper and the handful of flowers on his chest. 

“I’d feel like a dickhead tryin ta take him out if he wasn’t done processing his divorce. Not like I’m just tryin ta be his friend ta get into his pants or nothing, cause I fuckin ain’t he’s just a good person and I like hangin out with him. Fuck I don’t want him to think that’s the only reason I wanted ta be friends. We were friends before I found out about the divorce yeah but…I didn’t bring him soup or nothin before I knew about it. Fuck even worse what if he figured out he really only thought I was hot enough for a lay? He already told me he didn’t wanna rebound date, that his feelings were all mixed up and he didn’t wanna hurt me or nothin so we should start as friends. I get that. Super. I don’t wanna be a rebound. I like being his friend. I do. Fuck he’s so worth takin a risk though. We could have a seriously good thing brewin,” Olly said softly, recalling the way the man looked when he’d kissed his knuckles on impulse. He’d flushed red, shit he was cute when he got flustered, but still the man was so headstrong and funny. Hells even when he was recovering from his work injury and Olly’d practically broken into his flat he’d starting trying to tidy up. Who does that? If Olly knew more maybe he could've helped with that too, like where he liked to keep his mugs, how he organized his books, how he liked his clothes folded away, what hangs up what doesn’t. Do they do anything fancy with his uniform? He’d always looked put together the handful of times he’d dropped off a surprise lunch basket at the precinct. Would it help if Olly ironed it the night before? It hit him all at once then and he gasped, clutching his hands around the flowers and growling low, tail lashing on the ground as he sucked in another breath to try to keep himself from whining like an injured beast.  

“Fuckin shit I’d move across the fuckin mountains fer this guy! When the fuck did that happen?! When the fuck did I start thinking about this dumb fuckin crush like that? I ain’t even told him about being a fuckin bait dog! Shit on a stick and fuck me sideways I gotta pull back. Hells below he gets so soft sometimes though. Wanna make him feel safe enough to do that and know I won’t be a judgy asshole. Bring him flowers and lunch and help him unpack around his place and cook stupid little date night dinners with him and try ta get him ta dance with me after doing dishes and watch the little cousins together cause once they warm up a bit he’s fuckin good with them and he’s fun ta be around and-fuckin shit I am so lost on this guy how did I not notice!?” Olly rambled, getting louder and more angry at himself as he went, growl rumbling back to full force by the end. He took a deep breath, dropping the flowers onto his chest so he could press the heels of his palms into his eyes hard enough to see swirling colors behind the closed lids. Olly let out a long string of nonsense infernal before sighing again, slowly moving his arms back down onto his chest to avoid hurting any of the bees still darting around him. The swarm had gotten the air around him buzzing, but already bits of them were slowly filtering back into their hives now that the flowers he’d brought over had been worked over. That’s his cue. Gotta bite the bolt. Now or never.  

“I gotta get over this. Dammit I am not gonna fuck up a good thing cause’a my dumbass feelings,” he growled loudly, huffing again and rubbing his cheeks hard to try to pull himself back together. “I’m takin the day off, baking myself silly, and gettin back ta work tomorrow. No random drop in visits for at least a week. Maybe two. I gotta back off. Distract myself or somethin. Hells might be time I do another fuck me show. Always manage ta pull at least one date outta that. Fuck it if it doesn’t work at least I’m tryin somethin.”  

[realcube]

ARCADE

summary ★ she needs to get the action figure that's in the claw machine for her sister’s birthday, so saiki does her the favour of using his a telekinesis to win it...along with a few other favours.

trigger warning ★ gambling, god, swearing, fem!reader & reader has a younger sister

construction on the new arcade near pk academy had finally come to an end. the grand opening was today after school so of course, nendou suggested that they attend as a squad. usually, saiki tried to avoid getting roped into outings like this but for a change, he actually agreed without the need for any further prying. that's because the arcade was attached to a small cinema where they'd be premiering the latest action movie — based on the TV show adaptation of the game — 'Olfana's Story X-2'. as it turns out, a few months after saiki gave the game a shot, it became a craze and a massive hit among speed-runners. so from it's new-found popularity, they developed a TV show series which inevitably flopped so now they have created a movie. only the most elite people among the gaming community were allow to see it before the official release date and they all said it was incredible; but there was not a doubt in saiki's mind that they were being paid to sing it's praise. a crappy game turned into a crappy show, now adapted into a movie was sure to be crappy. so you may be wondering why he even wanted to view the movie if he was set on it being awful. Well, there are two simple answers; curiosity and the mystery. since it was so exclusive, he had yet to overhear spoilers through his telekinesis and he now had a germanium ring in his possession so he could watch the movie in peace. also, having played the game but not seen the show, he was curious to see how bad the movie is going to be and perhaps he'd be able to get a good laugh out of it. but he made the mistake of mentioning his plan to see the movie which screened a few hours after the opening of the arcade, as now kuboyasu, nendou and kaidou were all going to see the movie along with him. In theory, it shouldn't be a problem since he'll have his germanium ring on but in practise, the world seems to be against saiki so one of his friends will probably end up stealing his popcorn or chatting throughout the entire movie. he'll just have to wait and see. kaidou and nendou did not even stop to take breaths as they raced on about how excited they were while they were all walking to the arcade. "i'm sure the movie is going to be sick!" kaidou exclaimed, followed by rapid head nods from nendou as he replied, "yup! And i can't wait to see what sort of games they have!" saiki was a bit excited himself but he didn't care to show it like the others did. but when he saw the vaporwave building covered with bright neon lights come into view, his lips curled into a small smile. though it was short-lived as he noticed the massive queue to get in; it appeared as though they weren't the only ones who had the idea to visit the arcade after school as he noticed many familiar faces standing in line, amongst crowds of others. all of their cheery auras dissipated for a few moments until kuboyasu perked up, approaching the doors to the arcade with a smug smirk, cutting in front of everyone in the line and gesturing for the boys to follow him, "don't worry about the queue, guys. follow me." nendou followed without any further questions but saiki and kaidou were a bit apprehensive. all three of them watched as kuboyasu stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the guard by one of the doors, muttering something in the man's ear, causing him to sweatdrop and hesitantly open the door with a shaky smile; allowing all four of them inside. "woah, that was awesome, aren!" kaidou yelled, not only out of awe but so he could be heard over all the cheering, laughing and game noises from inside the arcade. "yeah, that was so cool! but what did you say to that guy? he looked freaked out!" nendou inquired, surprising saiki with his actually intelligent observation. kuboyasu's hand found it's way behind his neck, rubbing it awkwardly as he chuckled, "oh, nothing! it's not important-- hey! how about you guys start playing your games and i'll go get the tickets we reserved, yeah?" "yeah!" kaidou and nendou cheered in unison, high-fiving the purple-haired boy before the all ran off in different directions, leaving saiki standing alone at the entrance. he fidgeted with his germanium ring, contemplating taking it off as he stared at kuboyasu; he really wanted to know what the teen boy could've said that'd incite such fear into a grown man, but he decided against it — merrily making his way towards the claw machines, leaving kuboyasu's secrets alone. ★★★★★★★★★★ "shit." he cursed under his breath as he watched the cyborg cider man plushie that he's been trying to win — for yuuta — for half an hour straight slip out of his grasp once again. 'these things are rigged. and what's the point in having psychic superpowers if i can't use them.' he thought to himself but had to quickly shake off the idea, as there was no way he could risk using his powers in such a crowded place, especially for a plush that wasn't even for himself but rather for an annoying kid. he sighed, slipping another coin into the slot and about to find the right state of mind until he heard a loud "fuck!"  from in front of him. his head jerked up, scanning the area for the source of the noise until his eyes landed on you. the claw machines were lined up, back-to-back, and playing on the machine diagonal from him was a girl with enchanting (e/c) eyes which contrasted greatly with her disheartened expression as she stared at the box. the only emotion she wore was sadness as she stared at the machine, so out of curiosity, saiki slipped off his ring in order to read her thoughts; feeling no guilt in listening to the affairs of a complete stranger. 'c'mon, stupid claw machine, i need this!' your silky yet whiny voice rung through his mind, 'what's she gonna think about me tomorrow when i tell her that i couldn't get her the gift she's wanted? she's gonna hate me- even more than she already does. and now i've spent all my money on this silly game so i can't even try get her a crappy gift with the little money i had. Wow, (y/n), you're the worst big sister in existence.' saiki cocked his head to the side, peering through the glass of the machines to see the contents of the claw machine you were standing in front of and when he saw the limited edition, silver cyborg cider man action figure sitting on a pedestal — almost as if it was taunting the poor girl — he finally connected the dots. your hand dug through your pockets until you found the smooth metal surface of your final coin, 'just once more try. if i win her this action figure, maybe she'll finally respect me as her big sister! and this toy will surely make her more happy than any gift mom could've possibly thought of. i'll make her sixth birthday one to remember!' the dejected look on your face slow lifted into a determined one, but it wasn't very convincing as saiki — and anyone else — could see the worry and shame in your eyes as you dropped your last coin into the slot of the machine, giving you one more chance to redeem yourself and claim the title of 'best big sister in the world'. saiki watched you maneuver the claw of the machine with bated breath, admiring how your pretty nose crinkled and your tongue poked out from the corners of your perfectly glossed lips in concentration — 'ew, stop being a simp, kusuo.' he mentally rebuked himself before engaging with your scene one again. your fist slammed down against the big red button, followed by the claw opening and lowering over the box of the cyborg cider man action figure, slowly closing it's jaws around the box and grasping it perfectly, resulting in a slight gasp to escape your throat as your lips pulled into a grin. the claw kept it's grip in the toy as it lifted up, slowly making it's way over the hole where it would drop the action figure, straight into your possession.  that is, if the grip didn't falter hence allowing the toy to fall down, off it's pedestal and onto the bottom of the compartment to join the rest of the more average action figures. "fuck!" you screamed in an almost identical way to which you did earlier, expect this one held more pain. 'this can't be happening; is this the third year in a row that i'm going to show up to my little sister's birthday party empty-handed?' you thought, your bottom lips quivering so you quickly bit down on it, staring at the damned toy before turning on your heels, shuffling away from the game with your head hung low, the thoughts which cried in your head about how much you budgeted and how hard you worked made saiki's heart sink. 'maybe i could take out a mortga--' your thoughts were abruptly cut off when you heard the noise of something falling behind you. whipping your head around to see what happened, you exhaled a sigh of relief upon seeing nothing out of the ordinary. however, you caught a glimpse of inside the machine which you had been cursing at and realised that the toy wasn't with the packaging peanuts where you left it, as if it magically disappeared in the few seconds you had averted your gaze. creeping up to it, your gaze darted around in search of anyone who might've won it in less than 5 seconds but that was unlikely. now that you were closer, you peered through the glass once more to confirm that the toy was in fact missing and you were right. recalling the noise of falling you heard just before you turned around, you dropped to your knees and lifted the flap to the compartment which held the good that people would win from the machine. you almost screamed with delight and shock when you laid eyes on the limited edition, cyborg cider man action figure that was tucked snugly inside. yanking it out, you pressed it to your chest and the tears you were choking back finally came running down your cheeks, but now they were from joy. "thank you, god." you whispered to yourself, making saiki chuckle from his spot at the claw machine which he hadn't moved from. he wasn't god — nor was he friends with god — but he didn't mind not being able to take the credit for his kind actions of using his psychokinesis to drop the box into the hole for you. honestly, he found that seeing you happy, sitting on the floor with brightest beam gracing your features along with your now cheerful thoughts in his head, was enough of a reward for him anyway. also, he appreciated how you didn't question how the box ended up in the hole and instead you just deemed it a miracle as you were too overjoyed to use logic; that sort of thinking saved saiki a lot of trouble. 'i should probably go home and wrap this.' your internal monologue had now calmed down slightly as you were now able to produce a thought that wasn't just a squeal of delight, 'hm, maybe once i am done i could come back and see the new movie that's premiering-- but i've not got much money left so i guess i shouldn't get ahead of myself.' you hummed, picking up the box along with yourself, dusting yourself off before heading towards the exit. saiki must've been staring for a tad too long though as you caught his gaze while brushing off your clothes. he cringed, instinctively darting his eyes away so you didn't think he was an ogling creep but the fact he appeared defensive probably didn't help. so he fully expected you to frown or cast him a dirty look, judging him for his actions but to his surprise, you simply chuckled. waving at the pink-haired boy before strolling off with the box under your arm. 'he seems cool. where i can get clips like those?' why were you thoughts making him blush like an idiot? time to put the germanium ring back on. ★★★★★★★★★★ as it turns out, nendou is surprisingly good at poker. he figured this out after he stumbled across the casino section of the arcade, and since he looks way older than seventeen, nobody questions it when he took a seat at one of the slot machines, under the impression that it was a fancy, old-timey arcade game. he was then offered a round of poker with some old dude with way too many gold teeth and nendou ended up taking the poor, stubborn guy's entire fortune. god-knows how many games with how-many people later, nendou was sitting on stacks of cash at a round table with a tired dealer, and two grown men — one crying into the shoulder of his arm-candy and the other weeping into the sleeve of his suit — while the three boys who had came to give him his ticket stood by, all wearing matching confused expressions. "uh, nendou." kuboyasu tapped his friend on the shoulder, waving the ticket in front of his face, "the movie is gonna start soon, we should start heading over there right now so we can buy snacks and get good seats." nendou raised an eyebrow, puzzled until he recalled that he was supposed to watch a movie today, "oh, that sounds cool and all but i'm having a lot of fun right here." he smiled, motioning to the large casino area. kuboyasu chuckled awkwardly, backing away from nendou slightly as he turned on his heels, ushering the two other boys away, "alright, well, have fun, nendou! don't stay out too late!" nendou sung an okay in response, sliding a kaidou some cash for the extortionate theatre snacks before he was rushed away by kuboyasu, the purple-haried boy not wanting to spend anymore time in the casino than needed. "if nendou isn't joining us for the movie then we have a spare ticket. here, saiki, you should have it!" "why me?" "uh, because you said you saw reita earlier. so if you see him again maybe you could offer him the spare ticket." 'absolutely not.' was vocalised as "sure." by saiki as he took the ticket from kuboyasu's outstretched hand, fiddling with it before stuffing it into his pocket along with his own ticket. "what i said to nendou was kinda an exaggeration" aren mused, glancing at his watch before looking up at his two pals, "we still have some time left before the movie starts. i'm gonna go handle some business — you two have fun, and try find reita!" kuboyasu said before pivoting on his heels in the direction of the staff only closet. the only thing saiki could think to do during this free-time was escape kaidou's pestering to play dance dance revolution — since saiki didn't want to dance, dance or revolute, he darted outside as soon as kuboyasu left, leaving kaidou alone and confused in the middle of the arcade. 'finally, fresh air.' saiki inhaled, filling his lungs with the cool air rather than the stuffy, arcade oxygen. scanning the surrounding area, his eyes caught a glimpse of a figure standing by the ATM, which he immediately recognised to be that of the girl he had helped earlier. so naturally, he flicked of his ring to figure out the reasoning behind the awkward look on her face. 'do i really want to withdraw money to see some stupid movie? i mean, i could leave that money to accumulate and buy something nicer later.' without thinking, saiki hummed in agreement with your thoughts as he had been in your position many times before. 'but then again, i should treat myself! when was the last time i saw a movie that wasn't pirated? hmm..' your indecisive thoughts matched perfectly with your conflicted expression as you stared through furrowed brows at the screen of the ATM. a soft breeze passed, followed by something light smacking against you face. you winced slightly, your hand snapping your cheek and grabbing at whatever it was; just by the texture, you could tell it was paper. holding it in front of you, upon further inspection you realised that the mysterious sheet that had flew into your possession was in fact a ticket to tonight's showing of 'Olfana's Story X-2'  row G, seat 9. you double, triple checked it out of fear that this may be a cruel prank but no, this was completely real! you cheered, bouncing up and down and away from the ATM since you no longer needed it's services as god had blew the desired item straight into your hands — or your face, rather. either way though, you were over the moon, clutching the ticket to your chest and basking in your second miracle of the day. unbeknownst to you, saiki's smile was almost as wide as your own. you thanked god for your relief and saiki had no problem with that; seeing your little happy dance and squeals with your free ticket was enough for him. but actually, perhaps he might benefit himself after all, since the ticket he had given you previous belonged to nendou. meaning that saiki was seated at row G, seat 10; right beside you. ★★★★★★★★★★ saiki forgot to send a few notes flying your way in the wind, so you walked into the theatre and took your seat, completely snackless since you couldn't afford the exorbitant prices that they sold food for at the cinema. but perhaps that wasn't all bad as it revealed the possibility for saiki to offer you some of his popcorn as a conversation-starter, as he's usually not too good at socialising with new people — forget starting a conversation. however, he didn't need to work up any sort of courage to talk to you as the first thing you did when you plopped down in your seat beside him was turn to him and chirp, "oh, you're the guy i saw at the claw machines earlier! i love your clip thingies." your buoyant-adrenaline allowing your to be more bold than usual. the movie had yet to start, low murmurs of chatter coming from across the theatre as the trailers played in the background, "yes. and thanks." 'good grief, curse myself for not being more talkative. she probably thinks i'm dull now. perhaps i should channel my inner nendou..if i have one.' instead of ending the conversation right there like he assumed you would, you continued talking and saiki was..glad? why did he want to interact with you so much? he spends most of his days trying to avoid interacting with people; why were you any different? "no problem- also, did you get what you were playing for?" you inquired, tapping your lip in genuine curiosity. his ring remained on his finger, despite the fact he wanted to know what you thought about him, he didn't want to invade your privacy any more than he already has. "no. did you?" "yeah, i did, actually!" you chirped, not noticing the smirk creeping onto saiki's lips as you were too engulfed in your memories, "i thought those games were rigged but maybe they're not 'cause i managed to win this super special action figure that my sister has been on the top of my sister's wishlist for like- forever! and her birthday is tomorrow so i'll be a--" you cut yourself off, crinkling your nose in embarrassment, "sorry, i'm over-sharing, aren't i?" your enthusiasm made his heart flutter in a way he wasn't used to, if you didn't know any better, he would have thought he was having a medical emergency. his eyes widened slightly as you halted in your speech, "no, you're fine." he said, the uncharacteristic softness in his voice catching the attention of his two pals sitting on the other side of him. you shook off his comment, "i mean, i'm telling you my life story and i don't even know your name." you said, laughing sheepishly at the reality of the reality of the situation. 

“saiki kusuo.” he blurted out without a second thought.

you blinked a few times, shocked that he’d give his details away so easily as you somewhat expected him to be more of a reserved type of guy but evidently, you were wrong. “uh, i’m (l/n) (y/n).” you choked, biting down on your bottom lip slightly before continuing you story as he seemed to wait expectantly, “as i was saying, today’s just been the best day ever! everything has been going so well, i’m a bit scared as to what is going to happen when it hits midnight.” 

saiki nodded along, popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth before remembering his plan, “oh- would you like some?” he asked, offering you some popcorn from his bucket. unfortunately, the plan was a last-minute thing so he had only bought a small, but he still wasn’t opposed to sharing. 

you shook your head, trying to grin foolishly wide at his kind offer, “no thank you.” 

saiki nodded, about to open his mouth to reply until the blaring music from the beginning of the movie started, putting a swift end to your conversation — despite the fact saiki would much rather talk to you than watch the crappy movie — out of theatre etiquette. 

★★★★★★★★★★

it was worse than you or saiki could’ve ever imagined.

it was painfully trying not to burst out laughing right in middle of it or lean over and giggle in each other’s ear at the silly dialog but out of respect for the other people in the cinema, you both stayed silent and just cast each other occasional knowing glances whenever something cringey happened on screen. 

you both let out audible sighs of relief with the credits began to roll, accompanied by a slow indie song. “that was..something.” you mumbled, grabbing your purse and jumping to your feet, wanting to exit the building as soon as possible and hopefully leave your memories of the movie behind you. 

“definitely.” he snickered, absently flicking the side of his empty popcorn bucket, “i stopped paying attention once i finished my popcorn.” it felt weird to vocalise — or rather, telepathically communicate — the comments he’d usually keep to himself; why did he feel so comfortable speaking to someone he only just met?

he began gathering his things, stuffing all of his rubbish in the bucket so he could dispose of it all at once. his mind was fixated on crappiness of the movie and how a five-year-old could’ve shot a much better film, until you grabbed his attention by calling out his name, followed by a question which made him blood run cold.

“before i go, it gotta ask’ how’d you do it? or more importantly, why’d you do it?”

he blinked several times before putting on his best bewildered expression, with the idea that maybe if he played dumb, he could gaslight you into thinking that it never happened or that he had nothing to do with it. “what?”

“oh, don’t give me that!” you scoffed, narrowing your eyes at the boy, “i’m not stupid. every time something good happened to me, you were nearby. i’ve connected the dots so fess up. why did you do all those nice things for me? was it out of pity or are you that nice to everyone?”

“i’m that nice to everyone.”

“i don’t believe you.” you snapped, fixing your tone when you remembered that even though he was lying to you, he still helped you get the present for you sister and gave you his spare ticket. “i don’t care if you’re not gonna give me a straight answer, but at least let me make it up to you.”

he huffed, an unimpressed look covering his features before you even proposed your idea. there was really nothing he could possibly need from you. what were you going to give him that he wasn’t capable of obtaining on his own? so he frowned, ready to decline your offer. 

“i saw that you bought one of those jelly pots from the snack stand and i actually work at a little café in the town, so i might be able to get you few things for free or discounted?”

“yes.” wait, that wasn’t refusal. 

“great!” you chirped, glad that you wouldn’t have to pry further, “does later this week sounds good? we could meet up here then i can walk you to the café- or i could give you my number and we can arrange a date later?” 

“sure.” saiki said without thinking once again.

but it wasn’t as though he regretted it when you slipped the piece of paper you had scribbled your number onto, into the front pocket of his shirt, tapping it with a smile. “alright! i’ll see you later then- unless you want to walk home with me?” you fidgeted with your fingers slightly, instantly regretting what you just came out with. not because you didn’t want to walk with him, but due to the fact you highly doubted he was going so say accept so you mentally prepared for the impact of his harsh rejection.

“sure.”

★★★★★★★★★★

BONUS 

saiki ended up walking home with some girl he met at the theatre so that left kuboyasu and kaidou to fetch nendou once the film finished. they both searched the casino area for almost half an hour but neither of them had any luck finding nendou. that was, until kuboyasu had to take a step outside to escape the casino as he noticed an old friend of his playing on the slot machines, and he found nendou crouched by the garbage cans, on his phone. 

“nendou! we’ve been looking all over for you- why are you out here by the trash? and what happened to all your money?!”

nendou chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with his spare hand, “fun story actually. i was doing so well and i was on my way to becoming a millionaire until these schoolgirls came marching in and absolutely slaughtered me! it was so embarrassing and the only way i could escape them was by running away so i hid back here.”

kuboyasu’s aura just screamed ‘disappointed but not surprised’, “so you’re telling me that you lost millions to highschool girls?”

“they might’ve been middle-schoolers, i’m not too sure. i didn’t get a very good look at ‘em but they were all wearing creepy red uniforms.”

all kuboyasu could do was massage his temples to ease his headache at the stupidity of his friends, “so you lost all your money to school girls in creepy red uniforms?” he repeated aloud, just to make sure he was hearing things correctly.

“yes. but not all my money.” he said, pulling out his wallet and grandly opening it to reveal a few notes and a button, “i’ve still got enough to spend on ramen with my bros!”

[youbloodymadgenius]

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 3

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello's masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite , who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310 , @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria . Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 3497 (oops 🙈)

Additional note: what you’re going to read is not realistic.

Enjoy 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

With his stomach in knots and a frown on his face, Ivar watches closely his godfather, who enters the living-room, wheeling a large trolley case behind him.

"Hello, Ivar." Floki looks around, an eyebrow raised questioningly, "Lagertha isn't here?", before flopping down on the corner sofa.

"No," Ivar shakes his head, wheeling up next to him, "She's out on a date with this English guy... Hammond, Halmund or whatever his name is."

Scratching his ear, Floki tilts his head, "but she knows you're going, right?" He pulls the trolley case closer and then snorts, mumbling under his breath, "don't think I can't see you rolling your eyes!"

"What do you think? Of course, she knows. She said, and I quote," Ivar raises his hands to make air quotes, his voice tinged with obvious annoyance, "'Of course you can go, sweetie, you know I don't want to be the one holding you back. Call me if anything goes wrong. And don't forget to take your meds.'"

"She cares, Ivar." Floki's tone is soft as he places a hand on his godson's shoulder.

Ivar lowers his gaze. "You should have taken me in." His words are barely audible and suddenly he feels like he's eleven again and he has to swallow against the sudden dryness in his throat.

"You do know that back then I wasn't in a good place." Floki's sad sigh almost gets Ivar in tears as memories of his parents and Helga flood his mind. The pain in his heart becomes nearly unbearable but he fights it off with all his might. He never wants to feel broken and lost again.

Ivar lifts his head up and Floki can see the stubbornness in his eyes. "I could live with you now."

"No, you could not, and you know it!" Floki smiles and taps Ivar on the cheek. "Ivar, I live between two flights, today in Norway, yesterday in Iceland and after-tomorrow in Canada. What kind of life would this be for you, huh? And besides, living with Lagertha is not that bad."

But living with Sigurd is! Ivar wants to shout. He keeps quiet, though, shrugging before eventually mumbling. "Guess not..."

"So," Floki starts, eager to change the subject, "where are your brothers, by the way?"

"Where do you think they are, huh, you knock-kneed fool? They're already there." Ivar glances at his watch, furrowing his brow. "Harald's party started twenty minutes ago."

"We better hurry up, then!" Crouching down, Floki slowly opens the suitcase under Ivar's scrutinizing gaze.

"Quick!" Ivar commands, barely able to contain his impatience, his nervous fingers tapping his push rims. "What do you have for me, old man, huh?" He even contemplates climbing out of his chair to open it himself, but the fear of breaking a bone at the worst possible time is stronger than his eagerness.

"You're going to calm down, young Padawan." Floki quips, slowly moving his hand in front of Ivar with eyes full of mischief. Ivar immediately slaps his godfather's hand away, mumbling under his breath, "I'd rather be a Sith Lord." That earns him a loud, hysterical laugh from his godfather.

Ivar grunts, ready to protest, but all thoughts leave his mind as soon as he's able to see what is in the trolley case. The scowl on his face obvious, he doesn't even try to hide his disappointment as he utters, "you made me braces?"

He hates braces with a passion. Along with underarm crutches, he had some, as a child. They were bulky, stiff, painful and walking with them was tedious, agonizingly slow, and exhausting. Ragnar had been adamant that he wanted his youngest to walk, no matter the struggles, no matter the nearly unbearable pain. Ivar had settled his ass in a wheelchair the day of his father's funeral, getting rid of his braces shortly after, a decision he had never regretted. So no, such torture devices were not at all what he was hoping for.

"Have a little faith in me," Floki rolls his eyes. "These," he looks lovingly at the strange contraptions in his hands, "are not braces, Ivar. Have you and your crippled ass ever heard of exoskeleton?"

Ivar's eyes widen. "It's that thing used in rehab that allows paraplegics to walk, right?" As Floki nods, Ivar gives him a puzzled glance. "But, erm, you do know I don't have a spinal cord injury, don't you? Or are you suffering from memory loss? Maybe it's your age?"

Dismissing the remark with an exasperated wave of his hand, Floki hisses, "I'm well aware that you don't, godson dearest," before narrowing his eyes, his voice now serious, "you may have full sensation in both legs, yet they can't exactly support your weight and your lack of motor function can't be denied. Not really different from some paraplegic dudes, what do you think?"

Feeling a heavy lump in his throat, Ivar frowns, not pleased with the idea of him being like a paraplegic. Almost without thinking, he contracts his quads as best he can, as if he wants to make sure he's still able to do it.

Floki doesn't miss the barely-there movements in his thighs, though, and his voice softens. "Look Ivar, you're not a paraplegic, okay? But I used the exoskeleton technology. And since you're not paralyzed, I was able to make a smaller device that you can wear underneath your clothes, and you're going to walk. I mean, really walk, not just like those guys in rehab, between parallels bars and with a PT right behind them."

Ivar, his eyes bright, stares at his godfather, slack-jawed with amazement. "I'm..." He begins to sputter, voice filled with emotion, "I'm really going to walk?" Feeling like his heart is pounding out of his chest, he fails to contain his excitement, drumming the fingers of his right hand on his lap. He'd tap his feet if only he could.

"You are." Floki nods before taking out of the trolley case a pair of dress shoes. "I put dozens of sensors in the insole of these shoes, which will enable the exoskeleton to correct your stance practically every second. Therefore, you won't need crutches, although I would say it's safer for you to use this." Reaching down, he grabs a black derby-style cane, simple and sleek in design. "You know," he shrugs, "just for extra support. Better safe than sorry, hmh?"

Ivar, who doesn't even flinch when he sees the walking stick, just reaches out, his hand grazing the carbon fiber exoskeleton. "Is it really for me?" His eyes filled with wonder, his voice trembling, his lips stretch across his face as his godfather nods. "And you made this in what?... four, five days?"

Letting out his signature giggle, Floki waggles his fingers in front of his face. "Even I couldn't make this in such a short time. No, the truth is, I've been working on it for a while. Let's say your phone call just sped things up. Though I must say, this marvel of technology is not flawless... It has a really low battery life, like four hours of autonomy at best. If I had more time, I certainly could have done better, but for now, it is what it is and you'll have to make do with what you've got." Pursing his lips, he glances at his watch, "So, just so you know, if you put this on now, you'll have to come back around midnight if you don't want to have to crawl around. And if you hear a beep, you'd better hurry, okay?"

As Ivar just nods, his beaming smile never fading, Floki adds, tilting his head, "and now, go get ready, young Padawan, you have a party to attend!"

***

Sitting on a bench at the seaside, Ivar watches the party from afar, a feeling of uneasiness tightening his chest. It was a mistake. Attending to this party was a mistake. Despite the exoskeleton, despite the fact that he walks almost normally, it was a mistake. He shouldn't have come. He shouldn't be here. Anxiety surges like the swell of a wave, and he struggles to breathe. Sigurd was right: he doesn't belong here, doesn't belong to this life.

A part of him wants to leave. It would be better to run away, to go hide in his room. But he won't. He can't. Because just a moment ago he saw you. Because he's not ready to give up on you now that he is here, eventually close to you.

He recognized you the moment his eyes fell on you. Looking radiant in a polka dot dress, you're as pretty as he remembers. Pretty? Who's he kidding? The girl you were six years ago was pretty. You're a woman now, and one of the most beautiful he's ever seen.

Glowing, smiling at everyone, you didn't even see him. In his head, of course, he makes plans to approach you, even if deep down, he knows all too well he'll never muster enough courage to talk to you. You probably wouldn't want him to anyway. After all, he may be standing tall today, yet he's still a freak, a fucking cripple. He's still cursed with his bony, twisted, useless legs. He's still a burden.

Yet, there's this little voice inside of him, barely audible, whispering that you're not like this, that you never were in the first place; and that's partly why the ten-year-old boy he was when he first met you felt drawn to you almost instantly.

Closing his eyes, he focuses on his breathing and decides to take a little trip down memory lane, bringing him back to that sunny, summer day of his first – and only – encounter with you. His memory so vivid it's like it happened only yesterday.

He can't hear the chirping of birds as his brothers are loudly playing and bickering in the pool. His beloved mother is nowhere to be seen and he's willing to bet she's taking a nap, but not without first making sure he has everything he could possibly need. Lying on a sunbed in the shade of an oak, a glass of lemonade within reach and a thick book on his lap, he hardly notices his father coming into the backyard, Harald Hårfager following close behind.

Since Ivar knows Harald is here to talk business with his father, he pays no attention to the two men, who take their seats at the patio dining table.

He nearly falls off the sunbed when a tiny voice startles him. "Hello!"

Stunned, he turns his head towards the voice and comes face to face with a smiling girl he doesn't know. You. He'd say you're about his age.

"I'm Y/N," you tell him, waving your hand shyly. "I'm at my uncle's for the weekend," you keep going, pointing your finger at Harald, "and I was wondering... May I join you?" You finally ask, dragging a second sunbed closer to his.

His first instinct is to look around, because you can't possibly be talking to him. Why would you? Surely you can't have failed to spot his leg braces, nor his hideous orthopedic shoes. You can't have missed that he's a cripple.

Frowning as he sees that no one is around, he snorts, his nostrils flaring. He can tell you're wearing a swimsuit under your pink dress. What do you want, then? Are you here to mock and ridicule him or what?

"You better get in the pool with my brothers." He knows he sounds rude, not answering nor greeting you, but he doesn't care. He doesn't want to be made fun of and doesn't intend to give you the chance to do it.

Seemingly undeterred, you speak with a soft voice. "No, I'd rather not." Your smile is so genuine he can't help but think you mean no harm. "Actually," you shrug, sitting next to him, "I'd rather stay here with you, if you don't mind. What are you reading?"

Gobsmacked, he just looks at you – and gods, how pretty you are! – for a long time, unable to utter a single word. Are you truly interested in what he's reading? Interested in him? He swallows hard, his heart racing. A small smile dancing on your lips, your kind eyes never leave his as you wait, full of hope, for him to finally talk to you.

And that's what he ends up doing, almost in spite of himself. For the next two hours, he shows you his astronomy book, a gift from his godfather for his tenth birthday, and tells you about the stars, the constellations and the nights he spends watching the sky, when his mother allows him to. And for two hours you listen to him, asking a question here or there and always smiling. He's pretty sure you're not faking being interested in what he's saying.

All too soon, your uncle tells you it's time to go and you stand up with a scowl, letting out a sigh of regret. The next moment, you flash Ivar a grin. "I had a really great time with you, thanks! I'm going back to my mom's tomorrow but I hope we can spend time together again sometime, maybe next summer. I'd love to stargaze with you, you know?" With that, you lean forward and as your lips touch his cheek, Ivar's breath catches in his throat, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest.

Ivar inhales deeply. That kiss... That's when he fell madly and hopelessly in love with you. If he concentrates enough, he can still feel the softness of your lips against his skin, still smell your sweet, flowery scent.

That day, he had watched you leave with a smile on your face, already dreaming of the day he would see you again. You had said "next summer" and even though it was a long time away, he was willing to wait. In the meantime, he would have plenty of memories to recall - your joyful voice, your sparkling eyes, your lovely smile... Sure, he could wait.

And he had waited, hopeful and happier than he had been in a long time.

Not long after, however, his life had been turned upside down, his father being murdered and his mother dying in a car crash. Lost, angry, broken, and infinitely sad, he had gone through the following months as if anesthetized - barely living, hardly functioning, sometimes feeling as if the memory of you was the only thing keeping him from drowning.

Yet, and he doesn't know why – or perhaps simply because Ragnar being dead, Harald had no reason to visit anymore – he had never seen you again.

"Hello!"

His whole body freezes and he stops breathing. This voice... Your voice... He'd know it anywhere. Yet, it can't be, right? Did he fall asleep? Is he dreaming? Is one of his brothers tricking him? Why would you talk to the cripple?

"My name is Y/N." He can hear the smile in your voice. "I was wondering... May I join you?"

Summoning the courage he's not sure he has, Ivar looks tentatively toward you.

Gods! You're even more beautiful up close. Fuck. Now that you're here, right next to him, he doesn't know what to say, what to do. Panic seizes his hammering heart as a lump rises in his throat. He attempts to swallow around it to speak, to say something, anything, but the words won't come out and he finally just nods, his hand gesturing to the bench for you to sit on.

"Thanks," you give him a broad smile before taking your seat.

Ivar cannot believe his eyes. What are you doing? Did you recognize him? Why are you here, with him?

"Woul–", he sputters, struggling to find his voice, "Wouldn't you rather be there?" Pointing his index finger at the crowd gathered in front of the makeshift stage just a few meters away. He frowns, tilting his head, "the party is in full swing."

"No, I'd rather not." You shrug and as you turn your head toward him, he breathes in your sweet scent, suddenly feeling dizzy. "The guys are already drunk and really have one thing on their minds. And those who are not are boring." You lower your gaze, as if embarrassed, and it's so adorable Ivar feels like his heart is melting. "I'd rather stay here with you, if you don't mind."

Oh, he doesn't. He doesn't mind at all. The truth is, there's a fucking firework inside of him, and he barely contains the screams of happiness that threaten to escape his lips. "That's okay, you can stay," he says instead, his fidgeting fingers dancing on his lap.

Over the next hour or so, the conversation flows easily as you speak about Karasjok, the small town where you live, telling him about your mother's people, the Sami, their culture and customs.

Ivar shares with you bits and pieces of his life too, speaking about his passion for the Viking culture and about his belief in the ancient gods. The night, his night, is full of your laughs, full of your smiles, full of you. He wants it to never end.

He's still trying to figure out if you know who he is, if you remember meeting him once when you rise to your feet, almost bouncing with enthusiasm. "Walk with me, will you?"

He's about to break the truth about his inability to walk when he remembers that actually, thanks to Floki, he can. His eyes never leave yours as he grabs his cane with a little bit of self-consciousness, wincing as he stands up, but he can't see disgust, contempt, or disappointment on your face and your smile doesn't falter as you delicately slip your hand under his free arm, curling your fingers back over it. Shaken by your sudden proximity, Ivar feels goosebumps rising on his skin.

"It's such a lovely night and I'm so happy spending it with you."

Your words leave him speechless as you lead him close to the water. A bunch of guys can be seen in the distance and Ivar is pretty sure his brothers are among them. He can feel their heavy stares on him and doesn't need to hear them to know what they're saying. "Who's this dude? Do we know him?" Standing tall, with his braided hair and a blue suit, he knows he doesn't look like himself. Yet, as he locks eyes with Hvitserk for a second, he'd sworn he sees a hint of recognition crossing his brother's face. And as the latter gives him a thumbs up, he knows his mind is not playing tricks with him.

"Oh, I love this song!" You clap your hands twice before shrugging shyly. "Let's dance, please!"

Ivar's heart breaks. Scared out of his wits, he swallows hard, his breathing uneven. "I... I can't." It's a painful admission, and he wishes the ground would just swallow him up.

He realizes you pay no mind to his defeated tone, though, as you grab his cane, leaning it against a nearby tree. "We'll go slow, I promise."

Almost in spite of himself, he places his hands on your hips as you wrap your arms around his neck. Gently – cautiously – swaying to the music, Ivar leans in close and, inhaling deeply your delightful scent, he feels like he's going to spontaneously combust. Your head resting on his chest, he's sure you can hear his frantic, pounding heartbeat. But he can't bring himself to care, not when you're finally exactly where he wants you to be. In his arms.

That's why he doesn't hear the first beep, or if he does, he doesn't pay any attention, entranced by your beauty, your kindness and the mesmerizing color of your eyes.

But when you stop dancing, your eyebrows raised, "What's that beeping noise? It doesn't stop," he hears it too, cold sweats washing over him as panic courses through his body.

"I... I must... I must go," he stammers, and honestly he's about to throw up. He can't think, can't speak. All he knows is that he doesn't want you seeing him crawling around. He won't allow it. He can't.

Fuck.

That's why he leaves. He just strolls off. He doesn't see the appalled look you're giving him, doesn’t' realize he's leaving his black cane behind, doesn't hear the despair in your tone as you shout, "wait, please! I don't even know your name!"

He has only taken a few steps when crocodile tears run down his cheeks, blurring his sight. It hurts so much he could scream, and he can barely breathe as the realization starts to sink in. Who was he trying to fool? Sigurd had been right all along. No matter the exoskeleton, no matter the genius of his godfather, he's still a freak. A monster. An abnormality.

He doesn't belong. He's not worthy.

Fuck.

His heart shatters in a thousand pieces.

Fuck.

Y/N.

Fuck.

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @adrille88

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings @heavenly1927 @dini73

[merakiui]

hello!!<3 can i request an angst scenario (it can have a happy ending it's up to you!!) childe x fem!reader where they are together for some time and she didn't know he's fatui (she hates them bc her parents were in debt and overall they ruined her life and he's too scared to tell her) but she finds out and wants to broke up?? THANK YOU

In which you discover Childe’s ties to the Fatui.

cw: angst, debt, small mention of depression as a result of debt, female reader note - I woke up and chose pain with this one. >:) it also got long;;; oops!

You hate the Fatui. And although that’s such a strong, hurtful word it's your true feelings. You’ve never experienced their wrath firsthand, but you have witnessed what it can do to people. Your sweet, loving parents, who took loans out of the bank in order to pay for repairs to their shop, were reduced to frightful messes at the mere mention of that harrowing F-word.

It’s horrible to see them in such a state, especially since a few agents had come by once and practically demanded the money. As a result of such a distasteful discussion, you refuse to go into any sort of monetary career: trader, merchant, and even a wandering saleswoman. You’ll find a way to make things right by getting a job that will bring in lots of riches for your poor parents. Then the Fatui will have no choice but to leave your family alone.

Your own funds have dried up, having gone into another Fatui agent’s gloved hands. You can’t even argue because you have an inkling as to what will happen when you finally run out of money to give. Ever since this entire debt charade, your parents have become hollow shells of their former selves: paranoid, depressed, and starved of the happiness that comes with being in a regular, debt-free family.

Childe tunes into your rant as if someone had just turned on the switch that designates his listening skills. The two of you are sitting on a lovely hilltop, watching the stars twinkle in and out of focus. Liyue Harbor can be seen from afar, glittering in warm colors of gold and red. If Childe remembers correctly, another festival should be right around the corner. He’ll have to take you when he finds time to slink away from his work.

Speaking of his work, he’s never actually told you about it. When you asked, he simply said it was a job that allowed him to travel. It sounded like a traveling merchant to you—perhaps even a fishmonger specializing in exotic types—considering he was seemingly loaded with Mora. It made you jealous that he was so well-off with his finances, but you couldn’t complain when he so readily emptied his pockets for your sake.

“And then that stupid agent shows up at our door right when I get home! It’s the worst timing ever. My parents were pretending to be out of the house and I showed up and ruined their plan.” A heavy sigh tumbles from your lips as you flop back onto the grass, where Childe fixes you with a lopsided, sympathetic grin. “I hate it. They’re not even themselves anymore. It’s like they lost all sense of life. I’m picking up as many commissions as I can, but it doesn’t even help. The Fatui just take it all faster than I can save it.”

“They’re the worst, aren’t they?”

“And the sky isn’t blue. Of course they’re the worst!” You inhale softly. “No use getting mad about something that already happened, though.”

“You’ll just give yourself more stress and you don’t need that.” He joins you on the plush grass, turning his head to look at you rather than up at the inky night sky. “I can help with your commissions, you know. I’ve been itching to smash some hilichurl camps.”

“I can handle it myself. It’s fine.” Only it’s not and you’ve started realizing that. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Funny. I was going to ask you something, too!”

“Oh. Uh...”

He chuckles, staring at you with blue eyes that don’t sparkle. “There’s this festival coming up and I wanted to take you. It’ll be just the two of us for one night. You can forget all about work and money—”

“What about you? You said your job has you traveling all over the place. That’s why we’ll rarely see each other in the future. Once you’re done here in Liyue, that is.” You move onto your side, holding yourself up on your elbow. “I don’t think it’ll work.”

“Well, my boss doesn’t have to know. It’ll be our tiny secret!”

You roll your eyes, smiling a little. Deep inside you’ve always felt like something was off about his story. For the past few months, he’s remained in Liyue and once you even caught him slipping into Northland Bank when you were running some errands. You hope he isn’t in a similar situation concerning debt and poverty. No, he wouldn’t need to be. He’s shown you just how many lavish things his funds can afford. Why would he be in debt if he has a stable job?

“Are you...doing something bad?”

You could’ve phrased that better, but it’s already out in the open now. Sheepishly, you avoid his befuddled stare, opting to watch the moon as its light becomes obscured behind a dark cloud. An airy chuckle escapes him, but he doesn’t say anything. His silence confirms your fears and it dawns upon you that he hasn’t been truthful this entire time.

“This mask.” It’s in your hands before he can stop you. You’re tapping at it with a finger, equal parts curious and apprehensive. You refuse to beat around the bush; your doubtful gaze catches his and it hardens at once. “You’re Fatui, aren’t you?”

He sits up calmly, holding out his hand. “That’s quite the accusation, my dear. Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

“I’m not jumping to any conclusion. I’m right, aren’t I?” Now you’re sitting up, staggering to your feet to find some sort of leverage over him. He’s taller than you and far more powerful than he once let on. “Childe, why would—“

He sighs, lowering his hand out of defeat. “I suppose there’s no point avoiding it now. You were bound to find out one of these days.”

“One of these days? What? Like, when my family’s on the streets because the Fatui took our house?”

It hurts that he wasn’t honest and it hurts even more knowing that he has the power to help. He could’ve spent his time working out ways to get you out of debt, yet he decided to shower you in affection and useless trinkets! Trinkets that are only good for selling and receiving money to pay off the debt. You could cry; that’s how much it hurts. And when he makes no solid effort to comfort you, the tears begin to form.

“Of course not. I’d never let that happen!”

“Then why would you lie about it? Why not help me? Why can’t you just be honest? You always avoid questions you don’t want to answer and I hate it! I’ve been with you long enough to know that that mask is bad news. I was just waiting for you to confirm it, but you didn’t.”

You think it’s selfish for wanting his help—for wanting help from a Fatui agent, no less—but you’re too upset to care.

“(Name), you know that’s—“

“What else haven’t you told me? What else have you lied about? I don’t care if you’re trying to protect me. I’m already on a list. The Fatui still show up to my house and you just...let them. Why?”

“If I interfered, it would look bad in front of Her Majesty. You know I can’t go against her orders. I want to help you—I do. But...”

You’re fumbling for new words, at a complete loss with yourself. No matter how many questions you spout, he’ll evade them like they’re optional. And even if you want answers and honesty more than anything right now, you know he’ll fail to provide it. You shove the mask into his hands, shaking your head in disbelief. A swell of emotions overcome you: sadness, anger, and regret. You feel utterly betrayed. The sweet Childe, whom you once thought was your perfect match, is working for the Fatui—the people who have turned your life into misery.

And that’s probably not even the half of it.

“Let’s break up,” you say before he can spin another false tale. Another easy excuse to avoid this downfall. Childe stops short to stare at you in surprise and it’s weird to see that emotion scrawled across his face. He’s usually smooth and collected; he always knows what to say and how to act. Not this time, though. “It’s not going to work if we’re together while the Fatui are hounding my parents. And they wouldn’t approve of our relationship either.”

“Now, (Name), wait a moment. You’re not thinking straight. You’re just—” He struggles to find the correct words and in that small moment between foggy clarity and paralyzing uncertainty he plasters another plastic smile on. “Look. I know you’re upset, but I didn’t mean to lie to you. I was going to tell you eventually. Just had to find the right time to do it, you know?"

“I know. And that’s why we should go our separate ways.” Like Childe, you also put on a faux show, building up your walls as high and strong as his are. You don’t think you’ll last another minute in his presence, as you’re far too close to tears. “Thank you again for tonight. I’ll take my leave now.”

Rather than pain, it’s bitter when your lips fall upon his soft cheek. And the gesture stings harder than a slap on the wrist. 

The searing pain returns when you pull away and begin the descent from the hill as fast as your trembling legs will allow. You refuse to look back and fall into his arms in hopes that he’ll reassure you. The fact that he doesn’t chase after you—doesn’t even call out—stabs your conflicted heart and it’s more than enough confirmation. Childe isn’t exactly boyfriend material. He’s callous when it comes to a battle and he’s driven by his own ulterior motives. Surely this relationship was just a means of spending his extra time when he found himself bored and lacking a fight. Maybe he thought of his work when the two of you were on secretive dates. Maybe his heart was empty when the two of you were intimate. Maybe you were just the glue holding this crumbling bond together.

Childe remains on that hilltop, watching you disappear into the distance. And it’s then when realizes he’s lost you. The feeling is different from the battlefield and it’s far more real than when he’s snooping around as a Harbinger. You’re just a normal, good-natured citizen and he...ruined that part of you. With his ties to an enemy that has crushed your family. He’s partly, if not fully, responsible for what transpired just now and for the first time in a while real guilt gnaws at him. He’s left wondering why he did all of that—why he couldn’t just face your questions head-on.

It’s his fault, isn’t it?

On that windy hilltop, under the silent, disapproving darkness of the sky, he’s left to pick up the pieces of a fractured relationship. And it’s all because he couldn’t admit the truth to his precious girlfriend.

In a way, the Fatui have taken something from him, too, and he’s not sure if he’ll be able to patch it up with honeyed promises. 

Looks like we won’t be going to that festival anytime soon...

[love-and-monsters]

Fake Dating pt. 2

M Faerie X F human reader, 6,405 words

This is a part two to this story. Elwain and his human are safely in the human world, dealing with things far more mundane than an assassination attempt. Both of them are adjusting to the new life and to each other. Very fluffy, with some caretaking. I was in a very romantic mood while writing this and I think you can tell.

Content notes: mentions of parents trying to kill their child, descriptions of minor illness.

“This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen. Why do humans like this?”

You repressed a snicker. “You’re watching it.”

Elwain didn’t even look away from the screen to reply. “You put it on.”

“I just turned on the TV. You’re the one who started watching.” Elwain made a noncommittal noise. You pressed your lips together, trying not to smile. “I can change the channel, if you want. There’s a documentary on that I wanted to-”

“No, this is fine,” Elwain said. He hopped onto the couch next to you and curled up. “Ugh. These people know that expensive doesn’t mean good, right?”

You covered your mouth with a hand. Elwain actually, legitimately enjoying trashy reality shows was by far the best thing you’d learned about his personality since you’d started living together. The worst thing was probably that he’d grown up with servants and had no comprehension of household chores. It had taken a few weeks to get him to put his food back in the refrigerator when he was done with it, and you weren’t sure he was ever going to get the hang of doing dishes. Still. He was getting better.

“You’re still going to need to vacuum later tonight,” you reminded him. Elwain groaned.

“I spent all day at work!” he said. “I should get a day off.”

“You only had a five hour shift today. I worked seven. Plus, I have school. You don’t get breaks on household chores. Doesn’t matter how much you worked, they still have to be done.” Elwain looked away sulkily. That was an expression you were getting uncomfortably familiar with. “And you’re not allowed to do magic for it, either.”

“What? Just because you can’t use magic, there is no reason for me to be forbidden!” Elwain said.

“Yeah, sure. You remember what happened last time you used magic to clean the apartment?” Bright pink spots appeared on Elwain’s cheeks. He glared down at the couch, expression screwed up in irritation.

“I fixed that.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. You fixed the apartment. What you’re never going to fix is my trauma from walking into my apartment and finding everything covered in spiders!”

“I apologized!”

“Look, the next time you decide to enchant a bunch of bugs into doing household chores, just. Don’t.”

Elwain huffed. “They weren’t even venomous to humans! All of you are so easily frightened. They weren’t going to hurt you.”

“I think the heart attack I had upon entering my own apartment could be considered as hurting me,” you muttered. Elwain looked sour, but didn’t respond, apparently returning to his TV show. Elwain’s adjustment to the human world had been… difficult. He had no real understanding of conventional social norms and obviously still expected everyone to treat him like a noble, despite working a minimum wage job at a fast-food restaurant. Not to mention that he seemed to have very loose morals when it came to enchanting mortals. As far as you were aware, he’d never done it to you, but he didn’t seem to have any sort of restraint when it came to anyone else. Before he’d gotten his job in customer service, he’d made all of his money by charming random people off the street into handing over their wallets.

Admittedly, his skills had come in handy. You didn’t feel particularly good about it, but he had charmed the landlord into giving you the apartment for significantly less than the going rate. In your defense, there hadn’t been many options. You couldn’t stay in your parent’s house with a Fae hanging around, and even with both of you working, there was no way to afford an apartment otherwise.

It did not help that Elwain apparently found your moral crisis very funny.

“You all live by such dumb rules all the time. If you really wanted, I could probably charm someone into giving us their house, or just letting us stay there.”

“That feels morally dubious,” you said.

“Ugh. You won’t let me steal anything, you won’t let me charm people into letting us use their things without stealing them, you won’t even let me charm people into handing some things over!” Elwain flopped across the couch. “So now we’re living in a garbage apartment and I have to work at a greasy food place where customers yell all the time and-”

“It’s a nice apartment, especially considering what we’re paying for it,” you interrupted. “And if you use magic too often, people might start figuring out that something weird is going on.”

“I doubt it. Mortals are stupid.” But Elwain didn’t protest, and went to his job as usual, and didn’t steal, which was more respect for your rules than you were worried he’d show. And, really, you were glad you’d instated the ‘no magic’ rule at large, given how unpredictable the results could be.

Elwain sprawled across the couch. He had a tendency to take up ridiculous amounts of space, pushing you to the edges of the couch to avoid contact. Eventually, you got up.

“Where are you going?” Elwain asked as you walked out of the room.

“I’m going to study for a bit before bed,” you called back. “Enjoy your show.”

He stared after you until your door clicked shut. Weird. He’d seemed almost annoyed about you leaving, even though it meant he could watch his shows for longer and you would stop bugging him about vacuuming. Whatever. He’d been acting weird recently, though. Maybe you should talk to him about it. He’d seemed fine for the first month or so after leaving his home and his parents trying to kill him, but maybe he was having some sort of delayed reaction.

You buried yourself in your textbooks for the next few hours, trying to get a solid start on one of your papers. The back of your mind seemed to be focused on the little noises in the apartment, though. Every sound of footsteps or things being moved pulled your attention back to the rest of the house. Eventually, you heard the sound of the vacuum running for a while before Elwain headed into his room.

He never went back into the main area of your apartment and, buried in work, you were soon thoroughly distracted. Gradually, as you worked, your mind grew less and less focused until you were face down in your books, dead asleep.

“Wake up!”

You bolted upright. There was a piece of paper sticking to your cheek from a stream of drool. You hurriedly pulled it off. “What? What’s going on?” You blinked, focusing on Elwain’s fine face in front of you. “What are you doing in my room?”

“Your alarm was going off. I can’t believe you didn’t hear it. It woke me up.” Sure enough, your phone, which was still sitting across the room from you, on its charger, was ringing furiously. You weren’t surprised that you hadn’t noticed it, though. Your head felt like someone had stuffed it with cotton.

“Oh. Sorry.” You rose a little unsteadily and turned the alarm off. “Thanks for waking me. Probably would have slept right through it if you hadn’t.”

“Uh huh,” Elwain said. “Did someone curse you?”

You blinked at him. He seemed dead serious. “Uh, no. I doubt it. Unless you know something I don’t.”

“If you’re asking about my parents, I would assume they are no longer concerned about me,” Elwain said. His voice was clipped, like it always was when he talked about his parents. “I don’t think they would bother to curse a mortal. If they had the means to lay a curse on someone, it would be far easier and more effective to just curse me.” He paused. “I was only asking because you look terrible.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled.

“You do. Why didn’t you sleep in your actual bed last night?” he asked.

“Because I fell asleep at my desk by accident. Are you going to stand here and just insult me or-” You broke off into a round of thick, hacking coughs. Elwain took a step back, alarm crossing his face.

“What is happening to you?” He lifted his arms in front of him, like he was trying to ward off some kind of evil spirit.

“It’s a cough,” you said. “Have you never seen a cough before?”

Elwain lowered his arms, still looking at me like he thought you would start convulsing at any moment. “Fae don’t do that.”

“They don’t cough?” You rubbed at your chest. A significant amount of phlegm had settled there. God, your body really had to pick the worst time to get sick.

“Not like that,” he said. “What’s the matter with you?”

“I’m sick,” you told him.

He nodded slowly. “I’ve heard of that. A mortal thing. Your forms are weak, so you occasionally fall ill. It is a sign of your small, failing lifespans.”

You considered correcting him, but decided that you had better ways to spend your morning than trying to explain germ theory to a Faerie. “Yeah. Sure. Well. I’m sick. So that’s why I’m coughing. It’s just a cold. I’ll be fine.”

Elwain narrowed his eyes. “Hmph. Well. I have work. Don’t die while I’m out.”

“I’m not in any danger of dying,” you told him. “Go head to work. Have fun.”

“That’s unlikely,” he muttered, but he left your room without protest. You closed your door after him and set about getting ready for your day.

The cold had settled into your head and chest and you could tell it was going to be bad already, even before it had come on fully. God. You could not afford to get sick.

Elwain was eating breakfast when you shuffled into the kitchen. You’d needed to absolutely cake your face in makeup to look presentable, and you saw his brows rise as he looked at you. Fortunately, the Fae at least knew how to keep their mouths shut. He just looked back at the frozen waffles he was toasting.

You snagged a granola bar and headed for the door. “Have a good day at work!” you called over your shoulder. Elwain grunted in response. The door swung shut behind you.

Work was exhausting, as per usual. It was better than Elwain’s job by a long shot, since you were working in a local candy store run by a sweet older couple, but between keeping an eye on any batches of candy being produced, sorting out customers, and having to deal with the requisite child-throwing-a-fit-for-not-getting-sweets, it was tiring. Trying to look bright and perky while being weighted down with a cold was awful.

As soon as work was off, you had class. Dragging yourself through it was a slow, painful slog. By the end, your head was fuzzy and you felt dead on your feet. Slowly, you hauled yourself on the bus and fell asleep.

Naturally, you missed your stop.

About an hour after you were supposed to be home, you dragged yourself in through the door. Elwain practically slammed into you. His hands clapped on either side of his face and he peered intently at you. “Where have you been? I’ve been calling you! I thought you were dead!”

You pushed him off you and bent to one side to cough heavily until you were nearly sagging to the floor. Elwain stared at you. “Sorry,” you rasped when you’d stopped. “I fell asleep. And then my phone was on low battery and I wanted to make sure I had enough battery to use my GPS to get home.”

“You couldn’t have texted me?” Elwain drew himself up, hands on his hips. The entire situation reminded you, ridiculously, of your mom when you came home after a night out. “I was worried! I didn’t know where you were, and mortals are so ridiculously fragile-”

“Aw, you’d have been fine,” you said. “If anything, you’d be able to do more without my stupid mortal morals.”

Elwain’s expression went strange for a moment. “Are you feeling well? You seem… off.”

“I’m not feeling well. I’d like to lie down, actually.” You coughed again. “That okay with you?” Elwain was still frowning, but he stepped aside, allowing you down the hall and into your room.

You went down into your bed face-first. Almost as soon as you hit the pillows, your mind faded into sleep. Sleep came to you in fitful waves. You kept waking, coughing, rolling over and falling asleep again. When your alarm pulled you back to full consciousness, you felt thoroughly awful. The cold had settled firmly into your chest and head, gumming everything up. Your chest rasped every time you breathed in, prompting heavy coughing fits, you shivered even when you were wrapped in blankets, and your head felt full, achy, and cloudy.

The cold had apparently decided to upgrade to a full-blown illness. Slowly, you shoved yourself upright. It was hard to breathe through your nose and your mouth. Your throat stung with every inhale. Every cell of your body just wanted to pop some of the cold medicine that made you sleep and hopefully you’d wake up when it was all over.

Just as you were standing up, someone knocked on your door.

Well, you knew who. There was only one person who it could be. Grimacing, you walked over to the door and pulled it open. “Elwain. What?”

He stared at you. “I was- are you okay?”

“I’m sick. You remember the discussion was had yesterday?” you said. “Anyway. You needed something?”

Elwain looked you over. You hadn’t looking into a mirror, but given his expression, you probably looked terrible. He seemed to think you were five seconds from crumbling into a pile of ash, like a vampire exposed to sunlight. “Do I need to call 911?” he asked.

“Uh, no. It’s a cold. I don’t need an ambulance. I need to sleep for a while. Why are you knocking on my door?” you asked. Elwain’s mouth moved wordlessly. Whatever he had wanted to talk to you about, it seemed to have been completely derailed.

“I… er.” Elwain’s gaze flicked over you again. “Well. I wanted to see how you were doing. You went to bed right after you got home last night and I never saw you again. And you seem to be doing… poorly.”

“Yeah. I’m not doing great. I really just want to go back to bed.” You rubbed your hand over your head. “I feel like shit.”

Elwain hesitated. “Do you need me to do something?”

“Just go about your day. I’ll try to keep my gross self out of your way.” You slouched across your room to your bed. “If you don’t need anything else, I’m going to try to get a little more sleep.”

Elwain lingered in the doorway for a few moments longer. Finally, he turned and headed into the kitchen. The door remained open behind him, and you couldn’t be bothered to get up and close it again. Instead, you buried your head in your pillow. Sleep claimed you again within moments.

Less than an hour later, your alarm went off again. You slapped at it balefully until it shut off. Somehow, it felt like you gotten negative sleep, like sleeping had made you even more tired. Slowly, painfully, you pushed yourself upright. Shivers wracked your frame. How had sleep made everything worse?

You threw on the first clothes that you could get your hands on and shuffled into the kitchen. Elwain looked up from his breakfast. His mouth opened slightly. “Good lord. Maybe you have been cursed.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled. “I don’t look that bad.” You did, but you’d slathered enough makeup on your face to cover most of it. Then again, maybe that wasn’t enough to hide from Fae eyes.

“You look like a walking corpse,” Elwain said. You collapsed in the seat next to him and coughed into your fist. The force of the motion made your head throb. Elwain curled his lips back from his teeth in a grimace. “Are you certain you don’t need me to call 911?”

“No. It’s a cold. I’m-” You dissolved into a fit of coughing so severe it was difficult to catch your breath. Elwain stared at you, eyes wide. “I’m fine,” you croaked.

Elwain narrowed his eyes, but returned to his phone. You didn’t know where he’d gotten it from, because he certainly hadn’t purchased it, but you’d decided you weren’t going to ask. You ate slowly, mostly because your stomach felt tender, and you couldn’t finish even half of your normal portion. After a while of picking at your food, you dumped your dishes in the sink and started gathering your items to head out.

“Where are you going?” You startled. Elwain had appeared at your shoulder, completely silent. You might have chalked up not noticing him to your cold-dulled senses, but he could sneak up on you no matter how well you were feeling.

“Work,” you said.

Elwain looked back down at his phone. “You are not supposed to leave the house if you’re sick.”

“It’s a cold. I’ll be fine,” you said.

Elwain kept looking at his phone. “If you are sick, you are supposed to stay home, both so you can avoid infecting others and so you can recover.”

“Are you reading that off a website? Where are you reading that from?” You tried to grab his phone, but he gracefully slipped out of your reach.

“I searched about human illnesses on the internet,” he said. “Your symptoms are consistent with the common cold, but they are also consistent with pneumonia. It says you should sleep and drink water until you are recovered.”

“Look,” you said. “I’m fine. It’s a cold. I’ve had them before. I will have them after this one. I know how to handle them. I’ll pop some cold medicine and I’ll be fine.” Elwain stared at you. His expression was hard to read. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll live.” You sniffed and blotted at your face with a tissue. “I’m going to leave now. I’ll see you later.”

You swept out the door, giving Elwain a wave. He stared after you, not moving until you slammed the door shut.

It was a long, slow, awful day. You could barely keep your head together. By the time you got home, your limbs were heavy with exhaustion and your mind was swimming.

You dragged yourself through the door. Your body felt like you were wrapped in a massive, thick blanket. Everything was warm and it was hard to move, like everything was stiff.

Elwain stared at you as you pulled yourself into the kitchen. “You look like death warmed over.”

“Fine,” you mumbled. “’m fine.” You slouched over the counter and leaned against it. Elwain stood, stepping closer to you. “I’m good. I… I’m good. Just… Tired. Tired. Need to nap.”

“Perhaps you should nap in your room,” Elwain said. “Not on the counter.”

“I’m fine here.” Your words were getting mushy. Why weren’t your lips moving correctly? “I’m good. I just, um. Need. Something…”

“It’s okay. You’re okay. Here, hold onto me. I’ll-” Elwian’s hands were on your waist, on your back. You felt boneless, mushy. Your limbs weren’t moving the way you wanted them to. The only thing you could feel were Elwain’s hands supporting you. Was he carrying you? Maybe. You felt like you were floating. Your head was disconnected from your body, floating. Someone was speaking to you from far away, a soothing voice. It was so soothing. Maybe you could just sleep for a bit. Just sleep. It would be nice to just sleep.

Dimly, you came back to yourself. You blinked your eyes open. The ceiling was unfamiliar, at least as ceilings went. Not that you were familiar with many ceilings, really. Looking down at yourself revealed why the ceiling was so unfamiliar. The bed was covered in heavy, dark blue sheets. Elwain’s sheets. You were in his bed.

Slowly, you pushed yourself upright. You still felt bad, but less bad than you had been feeling. A raking cough escaped your chest, thick with phlegm.

“You’re up!” Elwain appeared in the doorway. He looked… frazzled? You weren’t sure the Fae could look as frazzled and unkempt as a human could, but he didn’t look as ethereally beautiful as he usually did. He looked sort of ruffled. “I was considering dragging you to the hospital, but the internet said that maybe ginger tea would actually be better, so I got you some of that.” He indicated the cup in his hands.

“You have got to stop getting all your information from the internet. Or at least I need to give you a media literacy course on identifying good sources,” you croaked. Your voice sounded bad, but it no longer hurt to speak. It just felt uncomfortable.

Elwain gave you a bewildered look and held the cup out toward you. “Drink it.” You took it obligingly and took a sip. Elwain must have dumped half a bottle of honey in it, because it was so sweet you almost couldn’t taste the ginger. You swallowed it carefully.

“Thank you,” you said when you’d finished the cup. “What, uh. What exactly happened to me?”

Elwain sat on the end of your bed. He was wearing his old cloak, the one he’d taken with him when he’d fled from Faerie. He tucked it tighter around him, fingers fidgeting at the hem. “I was hoping you could inform me of that, actually. I was quite frightened when you collapsed like that.”

“Oh, yeah,” you said. Vaguely, you remembered passing out. “How long was I out?”

Elwain glanced at the clock. “Mn. Less than an hour? You were in and out for the first ten minutes, mumbling a lot.” You had vague memories of Elwain leaning over you, expression panicked. Must have been from then. “Once I got you into bed, you fell asleep. I wasn’t sure if I should wake you or not.”

“It is,” you said. “Probably a good idea to let me sleep. Though if I ever do collapse again, please call 911.” You considered. “Well, I guess don’t call 911 unless I’m actually dying. I can’t afford the ambulance.”

Elwain nodded, even though he looked politely confused. “Is your illness getting worse?”

“Maybe,” you said. “It’s hard to tell. I think I have a fever now, so that sucks.”

With absolutely no warning, Elwain leaned forward. His face was abruptly so close to yours, close enough to feel his cool breath tickling your skin. The hairs on the back of your neck lifted. Suddenly the only thoughts in your head had to do with his lips pressing to yours, his cool mouth meandering along your skin-

His forehead touched yours. His eyes closed, a little furrow appearing in his brow. “You’re warm,” he said. “Very warm.” He sat back.

You blinked. “Uh. You can do that with your hand, you know.”

“Oh? I saw the forehead one on the internet,” Elwain said, but he reached up and cradled your face in his hands. With a soft, delicate touch, the back of his hand brushed against your forehead and down your cheek. The touch made something in your chest tighten and your breath catch. “You still feel warm.”

You moved your mouth, trying to get your brain back in gear. “Uh, yeah. Fever! That’s, uh. Bad. I need, um. You remember that pill bottle in the bathroom I showed you? The one with the little red pills?” Elwain nodded. “Get those and a glass of water. They’ll bring the fever down.”

Elwain vanished for a moment and returned with a tall glass water and the bottle of pills. He watched as you downed them and sank back into bed. His sheets were softer than yours, his bed even more luxuriously plush. You weren’t sure where he’d gotten the sheets from, or if maybe they were the sheets you’d bought him, just augmented with magic. “Why did you put me in your bed, anyway?” you asked. “My bed’s not that much further away.”

“I wanted to keep an eye on you,” Elwain said. “And you do not like me coming in your room.”

“I don’t like you just walking into my room whenever you feel like it, but you can come into my room,” you said. But you were pretty glad he’d put you in his bed. Everything in his room smelled faintly floral and herbal, a smell that relaxed you. Everything was cozy.

“I am not familiar with how to deal with sick mortals,” Elwain said. “Do you need anything else?”

“No. I just need to rest.” You paused, looking toward the window. “I should probably head back to my own room, actually. You’ll probably want to sleep here tonight, right?”

Elwain shook his head. “Stay. You need to rest. I will sleep elsewhere.” He swept out of the room, cloak fluttering behind him. You stared after him for a moment before sinking back into bed. Despite just waking up, your head was already muddy again. Maybe Elwain had gotten you the pills with the sleeping medicine in them. Your eyes closed. Within moments, you were drifting away, fast asleep.

You dreamed of strange things, of hands on your face, cupping your cheek, of soft lips pressed to your neck, of kind eyes and strong arms carrying you around. When you opened your eyes to see the same kind eyes staring down at you, you were half-convinced you were still dreaming.

“Hello,” Elwain said. “You have been asleep for a while.”

You blinked. Your body did have that foggy heaviness that came when you’d been sleeping deeply. Even your discomfort from the illness seemed far away and dim. “Elwain.”

“Yes. I’m right here.” He said it more gently than a simple statement of fact, almost like a reassurance.

“How long was I out?” There was bright sunlight streaming in through the window and across the bed. You lifted a hand to clumsily shield your eyes.

“Over twelve hours. I thought you should probably sleep. That’s what the internet said.”

“Oh, man, we are going to need to get you some better resources than just ‘the internet,’” you said. “But you were right. Thanks for letting me sleep.” Slowly, you shoved yourself up into a sitting position. “What’s that?”

Elwain held a bowl out to you. “I was told that soup was good for mortal illnesses.”

You took the bowl of vegetable broth. Elwain’s cooking was usually pretty hit or miss- he could follow recipes just fine, but he also had a habit of deciding that he had a better idea than the recipe and going completely off the rails. The soup just seemed to be broth, though. You took a cautious sip. It was watery, but tolerable.

“Are you feeling better?” Elwain asked. You nodded, glancing over at the clock.

“It’s past nine,” you noticed. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“I called in sick. I wanted to stay home to make sure you were all right.” Elwain looked completely serious.

“It’s just a cold. I’m fine.”

Elwain’s eyes narrowed. “You collapsed.”

“Well, yeah, but…” You trailed off. There wasn’t much you could say in response to that. “Fine. But if you get fired for this, I’m going to be pissed.”

“I will not be fired. My boss loves me.” Elwain gave a superior little sniff, nose stuck up in the air. You laughed into your bowl of broth.

When you were finished, Elwain took your bowl back into the kitchen, returning only a few moments later. “Do you need anything else?”

“I think I’m okay,” you said. “You really didn’t have to stay home to take care of me. There’s not going to be a lot to do. I think I’m mostly going to sleep.”

“Regardless. I think it is better to be safe.” Elwain looked at you from the doorway for a moment longer. “I need you.”

He left the doorway. You could hear his footsteps retreating into your apartment, perfectly steady, like what he said hadn’t made your chest tighten intensely. You sank back into his bed. His scent wreathed around you, gentle and reassuring. Oh, god. Warm feelings were fluttering up in your stomach, swelling through chest and trembling in your lungs. Worse than that, they felt familiar. How long had these feelings been lingering in the background of your mind? And now they had surfaced and you didn’t know what to do with them. Naturally, you would have some kind of emotional crisis when you were sick.

You faded in and out of dreams where Elwain’s scent wreathed around you and his gentle hands stroked your forehead and cheeks. You woke up feeling oddly melancholy.

The sounds of the TV drifted through the open door. Shaking some feeling back into your heavy limbs, you hauled a blanket over your shoulders and headed into the living room.

Elwain was draped over the couch, staring at the TV. There was some soap opera on with a woman and a man hysterically throwing themselves at each other. Elwain looked up as you padded into the room. “Is it okay for you to be out of bed?” he asked.

“Yeah. I feel better, actually.” The sleep had helped quite a bit. You still felt foggy, but the pain in your head and chest had faded. Elwain sat up, drawing his limbs in closer to himself so you could sit next to him.

“You look less… corpse-like,” he said. Before you realized what he was doing, he took hold of your face in both hands and pulled you closer to him. “You are still warm.”

“Uh, yeah. I’m getting better.” You reached up and carefully pried his fingers off your face. You were overly aware of how your fingers lingered together. “How’s your day off going?”

“Human TV is still strange,” Elwain said, turning back toward the screen. “I can’t imagine any humans really behave like this. I have never seen it.”

“No, it’s a soap opera. It’s supposed to be deliberately over-the-top and crazy. That’s why they’re fun to watch.” Elwain rolled his eyes, but there was amusement in his expression.

“Is there anything you want to watch?” he asked.

“No, this is fine.” You settled into the soft cushions, staring at the TV. As much as you were looking in the direction of the TV, most of your attention was focused on Elwain. His gaze kept flicking toward you, as if he was unable to focus on the show either. After a moment, he reached out toward you.

One of his hands settled on your head, the other on your shoulder. Before you realized what had happened, he pushed you so your head was resting in his lap. You stared up at him as he, apparently unconcerned, started weaving his fingers through your hair.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“You did this for me when I first came here,” Elwain said. “It was soothing. I thought you might like it as well.” He paused. “Was I incorrect?”

You considered for a moment. His fingers were still carding through your hair, twining strands around his fingers. “No. I don’t mind.”

Elwain continued to stroke your hair. His nails scratched lightly at your scalp. The feeling of being touched made something tremulous swell in your chest. It was a pleasant feeling, but one so sharp and overwhelming that it almost made you cry.

You lay with Elwain for a while, his hands absently playing with your hair and trailing along your head and neck. He seemed to be paying far more attention to you than to the TV. “You should take better care of yourself,” he said, stroking your bangs back from your forehead. “If you were to die, I would be alone in the mortal world.”

“You’d manage,” you said.

“Perhaps.” Elwain removed his hands from your hair and hesitated for a moment. He seemed to be struggling to speak. Then he sighed. “But I would prefer it if you were with me.”

You looked up at him. He was staring deliberately to one side. There was a faint pinkish color to his cheeks and his eyes were narrowed. “You could have left, once our deal was up. I only asked you to stay with me for the night. And yet, you helped me. There was no reason to. I no longer have my connections or any particular Faerie skills. Even the few powers that remain with me, you don’t like me using. You have gained nothing from this deal and you help me regardless.”

“Of course, I did.” Thinking about that night only brought one image to your mind. Elwain, who had nearly been killed by his own parents, looking lost and confused and abandoned. He had been cocky before, but in that moment, he had just looked forlorn and upset. He had just looked scared. “I wasn’t going to just leave you on your own.”

“You could have,” Elwain pressed on. “Easily, you could have. You could have justified it, even by mortal morals. There’s not a lot here that could kill me. As you have pointed out, I would be fairly fine on my own. But you stayed with me regardless, for no other reason than just helping me.”

“You’d just almost been assassinated. I couldn’t leave you,” you said.

“You could have. But you didn’t. And, at least so far, you have asked for nothing from me in return. To be quite honest, you’ve been almost annoying with how little you allow me to do.”

“I try,” you said. Elwain snorted. It was an inelegant noise, but somehow also incredibly attractive. “Where are you going with this?”

“I’m trying to explain to you that I care about you. I want you to be well and safe and healthy because you saved me and you didn’t have to and I appreciate it.” Elwain’s cheeks flamed red. “That’s what I’m trying to say.”

You reached up slowly and let your hand cradle the side of his face. He leaned into your touch, eyes closing. “It’s strange. I’m not used to this,” he said. “My parents loved me as far as they could use me. It’s how Faeries are. But you have used me for nothing, gained precious little advantage from having a Faerie living with you. And I wasn’t used to it. I still think I’m not used to it. But I am so… so… happy. For this. For you.” He blinked his eyes open. They were hazy with emotion. “Thank you.”

It was an impulse maybe you could have resisted if you were feeling better, but you were overwhelmed with feeling and not in the mood to fight with yourself. The hand on his cheek shifted position toward the back of his neck and pulled him down on top of you. His mouth pressed into yours, tense and unyielding, then softening as he realized what was happening.

There was a moment of fumbling, while Elwain registered that you were kissing. You broke away from his mouth, but he was pressing into you again, pulling you close to him and meeting your lips over and over with his own. His tongue brushed your lower lip and his moan sounded against your mouth.

You weren’t aware of how it happened, but suddenly you were lying back on the couch with Elwain on top of you. He was kissing you furiously, his hips flush to yours. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pushing him as close to you as you could get.

One of your gasping breaths caught in your chest, triggering a coughing fit. You rolled over, trying not to cough right into Elwain’s face. He sat back. His lips were already slightly kiss-swollen and he looked a bit rumpled. “Right,” he said, trying to finger-comb his hair back into a presentable state. “You’re still not feeling well.”

“Hold on. Give me a minute, we can keep going,” you said between coughs. Elwain pressed his lips together, but they were twitching toward a smile.

“You are admirably determined, but I think it would be better for you to rest,” he said. There was a pause. Elwain tugged on a few of the longer strands of his hair. “I take that to mean you feel the same way?”

“That I like you? Yeah.” You pulled him down so he was laying across your chest. He looked at you, eyes surprisingly wide and innocent. “When I first met you, I thought you were kind of an asshole. And you are kind of an asshole. But you’re also charming and endearing and you try to follow my rules even when you totally don’t have to. And you’re willing to take care of me when I’m sick.”

“You took care of me when I had lost everything,” Elwain said. “I only wished to return the favor.” His fingers wandered over your stomach, tracing absent patterns on your shirt. You could feel his warmth against your skin. “Usually, that’s how it works, with Faeries. Favors are given because giving means you can get something in return, and you’re always trying to leverage the deal to get more than what you’re giving.” He closed his eyes for a moment, brows furrowing. “But when I saw you were sick, I wasn’t thinking that I needed to pay you back. I was only thinking that I wanted to help you.”

You stroked your fingers through his hair. “That’s what love is.”

“Mortal love,” he sighed. “I always thought it was flimsy and weak and short-lived.” His eyes opened again and he nestled into you. “It’s much stronger than I thought. So much more than I believed. It almost hurts, but it’s a good hurt.”

You started coughing again. Elwain swung himself up and gathered you into his arms. “I’ll take you back to bed,” he said. “You need to get better. I want to continue this.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. You rested your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes. His heartbeat thudded against you, slow and steady. The feeling of him holding you swelled and ached inside you, a pleasant ache. You clung to him as he eased you into bed and settled in next to you. Your illness was all but forgotten. Everything was soft and pleasant under a heady wave of love.

[lovemeleo]

What about Logan not being able to skate well at practice because him and his boys did the ole dazzle dazzle right before practice because Logan liked begged for it.

Aka Logan getting chirped to hell because he had sexy time before practice and can’t skate well

omg Ach, I cannot tell you how hard I wheezed at “the ole razzle dazzle,” love that so much! Hope you enjoy this lil blurb of the aftermath of the razzle dazzle. 

O’Knutzy and the SW world belongs to @lumosinlove!

cw: talk of sexual content and a couple innuendos

***

It was a bad idea. Probably one of their worst ones to date. And to be completely honest, they’ve had a lot of bad ideas. This one though. This took the cake.

“Lo, babe. You’ve gotta get up.” Finn murmured, running his hand over the blanket where Logan was hiding. The only answer he received was a groan from the lump in the bed. “We’ve got practice in less than an hour and you know if you don’t eat something, you’re gonna be miserable on the ice.”

A hand came from under the blankets, pushing Finn’s face away, “Fuck you and fuck off.” Logan muttered, his voice raspy,

Finn laughed, yanking the blankets off of the shorter man, “If I recall correctly, I was doing the fucking. Or one of the people doing the fucking.” Logan hid his face in the pillow, letting out a groan.

“Why are you like this?” He muttered, sitting up slowly before he flopped right back over. “Oh mon Dieu. We’ve made a mistake… We have made a grave mistake.”

Another voice came from the doorway as Logan tried to move back under the covers, “What’s going on?” Leo asked, leaning on the doorframe. He was already dressed, of course, sipping from his cup as he watched the two of his boyfriends.

Logan sat up carefully, his face scrunched up in a wince, “We are never fucking before practice again. Ever.”

A smirk passed over Leo’s face, but he hid it quickly behind his cup, “It was your idea, mon chou. I told you we had early practice.” And he had, but that wasn’t helping Logan right now. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. His boyfriends’ had teased him for almost an hour, how did they expect him to make any good decisions?

Logan carefully pushed himself out of bed, wobbling a bit as the soreness from his ass and hips fully settled in, “Well, this is going to suck.”

After showering and eating breakfast, the three were heading to the rink. Logan had sprawled across the backseat, still complaining.

“You both have always been a pain in my ass, but now it’s very fucking literal.”

Finn couldn’t help the laugh that erupted out of him, “Oh my god, you’re an idiot.” He said, glancing back at him through the rearview mirror as they pulled into the rink parking lot. The three boys grabbed their bags before heading inside, though Logan was a couple of steps behind as they made their way into the locker room.

“Morning, boys,” Sirius said with a grin, pulling his practice jersey over his head. Leo and Finn shouted their greetings, as Logan carefully made his way to his stall. He should’ve known as soon as he showed the slightest sign of a limp, Loops was going to be on him. Fucking PT senses.

Remus’ eyebrows furrowed, watching Logan move around the locker room from where he was stretching on the floor, “Tremz, you good? You didn’t hurt yourself at practice yesterday, did you?”

The tips of Logan’s ears turned bright red as he turned to face his stall, hiding the mortified look on his face, “N-non, Loops. Je vais bien. Just slept wrong, feeling a bit stiff.” He muttered, waiting for the floor to swallow him up because oh my god.

“I’m sure Hestia would be willing to help you stretch out if it’s that bad,” Remus continued, oblivious to the fact that Leo and Finn were trying to hide their wheezing laughter. Those assholes. This was their fault.

Logan cut him off before he could continue, “No! I mean.. I’m good, Loops. Promise.”

Just as Remus was about to say something else, Cap rested a hand on his shoulder, “Mon loup, he doesn’t need a PT.” He said, a smirk spreading on his face as his eyes flickered between Logan and his two boyfriends, who were practically in tears at this point. Bastards.

Remus, bless him, looked up at his boyfriend, confused before it clicked. He fell back on the floor, letting out a loud laugh, “Oh my god, Tremz, you’re a fucking idiot.”

Tying off his skates, Talker stood up with a grin, “Right before practice and everything? C’mon, Tremzy.” The room was filled with chirping and laughter as Logan couldn’t hold back his own laughter, hiding his face in his hands.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time!” Logan laughed, his cheeks still flushed as he leaned back in his stall.

Jackson smirked, his arms crossed on his chest, “Yeah, it always does until you’re trying to stand the next morning and it feels like you’ve been run over by a truck.” 

“Exactly! Like multiple trucks.” Logan said as he started getting his skates on.

Leo glanced over at Finn, feigning surprise, “I didn’t realize you were a truck?”

Of course, he said this just as Finn was taking a drink of his water which ended up, splattering on the floor as he burst out laughing, “Ah, fuck. I thought I was more of a jeep, but I guess.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help the fond smile that appeared on his face. They were idiots. But they were his idiots.

[marveloussupernerd]

Truth or Dare in Gym 3 - Gym 3 Squad

The (big) gym 3 squad plays truth or dare. That’s literally it. BokuAka. Mentions of Tsukiyama. Implied YakuLev, KuroKen, Kagehina, but they’re not actually together in this fic so

They were absolutely wiped out from their three-on-three, slumped against the wall of the gym as they tried to catch their breath.

“You guys wanna do something fun?” Bokuto asked, still working on catching his breath from the intense game.

“Like?” Tsukishima asked.

“Truth or dare~” Kuroo suggested, pushing some of his sweaty hair out of his face. “We can do it while we cool down.”

“No.” Tsukishima stood up. “I’m good-“

“But Tsukishima! It would be fun!” Hinata whined, grabbing onto the middle blocker’s arm and attempting to pull the much taller boy back onto the floor of the gym.

Tsukki wasn’t budging. “This isn’t working, you know,” he said simply.

“I guess if you don’t play I’ll have to reveal the blackmail Kenna’s been collecting of you,” Kuroo shrugged.

“The what?”

“You can believe me or you can take that chance, up to you.”

Tsukishima sat back down in the circle. “Fine. But we can’t play for long—we have to get to bed soon.”

“Yay!” Lev cheered, lifting his arms up in triumph, as though he had done anything to convince the boy to stay in the first place.

“But you know how there’s always that person that only does truth,” Bokuto complained, glancing slightly at Akaashi, trying to make it discreet (and failing). “I don’t wanna have that happen.”

Akaashi rolled his eyes playfully. “Okay. How about everyone does two rounds - you have to do one truth and one dare. Your choice when you’re asked is mainly if you trust the person asking to give you a dare or not.”

“You’re a genius ‘Kaashi!”

“Oo!” Hinata squirmed in his seat. “I’ll go first!! Bokuto! Truth or dare?”

“Hmm, let’s start out easy with a truth!”

Hinata puffed out some air—he was obviously hoping for a dare—and took a minute to think. “Okay! Who’s your best friend in this group?”

Silence. Bokuto glanced between Kuroo and Akaashi, the two boys to the side of him. Then he looked back at Hinata. “Can you give me another one?” He pouted. “I can’t answer that.”

Tsukki rolled his eyes and grumbled something, but the other boys ignored it, trying to come up with another truth so Bokuto wouldn’t be sad by having to choose a favorite friend.

“Got it! Who on Karasuno do you think is the most intimidating?” Classic Hinata always thinking of volleyball.

“Oh, your captain, for sure!”

Kuroo nodded solemnly in agreement. “Dude freaks me out sometimes.”

“...Daichi does?” Hinata asked, tilting his head in confusion. Daichi was such an encouraging leader, he never even thought of him as intimidating.

“Definitely. When his gaze gets all cold...” Bokuto shivered. “He’s scary, dude.”

Hinata laughed, as did Tsukishima shockingly. “Guess I never thought about it that way,” the ginger said, shrugging.

“Anyways! My turn to ask now. Tsukki! Truth or dare?” Bokuto asked, pointing his finger at the blonde.

“Still Tsukishima, and truth. I don’t trust a dare from you.”

“Booo,” Bokuto pouted. “But okay. If my team were to play Kuroo’s in an actual match, who do you think would win?”

Tsukishima paused, glancing between the two captains, trying to assess what he had seen of their teams the past few days before coming up with his answer. “Fukurodani.”

“Ughhh, why?” Kuroo grumbled.

Tsukishima pointed to Kuroo. “You’d spend the whole match trying to outsmart Bokuto. But he’d catch onto it immediately and shut it down,” he pointed to Akaashi. “Kenma might be able to outsmart Akaashi, but you’re too proud to ask for help.”

“You’re scary Tsukishima.” Lev blurted out. Tsukishima just glanced his way, a blank look on his face.

“Anyways. Kuroo. Truth or dare?”

“I’m gonna trust you to start out the night with the first dare!” Kuroo said excitedly. “Don’t make me regret it.”

He regretted it immediately once he saw the widening grin on Tsukishima’s face. “Go ask one of the coaches for a condom.”

Kuroo buried his face in his hands, embarrassed. “What’s the aftermath for backing out of a dare?”

“Death.” Tsukishima replied seriously.

Kuroo groaned, then got up, walking out of the gym to find the coaches with the other boys in tow, excited to watch this play out.

There they were, drinking in one of the rooms. He knocked quietly, making his way in. “Uhh, could I steal Karasuno’s coach away for just a second?” He asked awkwardly, unable to look any of the coaches in the eye. Coach Ukai smiled and followed him outside the room to the hall, where the other boys were eavesdropping around the corner.

“Uh, sorry to bother you!” Kuroo blurted out.

“It’s fine kid. What’s up?”

“Uhm,” Kuroo pulled on the collar of his shirt. It was getting hot in there, probably from all the nerves. “Do you have a c-condom?”

Absolute silence for a second. Kuroo could feel himself dying on this inside and the boys had to fight to hold back their snickers.

“Sure.” Coach Ukai pulled out his wallet, pulling out a condom and handing it to the captain. “Is that all you need?”

“Uh, yup.” Kuroo gulped. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” the coach waved to the student then walked back in to join his fellow coaches.

The other boys rounded the corner, laughing their asses off.

“That was awful!” Kuroo whined, his face bright red. “I highly recommend nobody accept a dare from Tsukishima ever again.”

“Wah, wah.” Tsukishima rolled his eyes. The boys started walking back towards the gym. “Anyways, you get to ask next.”

“Chibi-Chan, truth or dare?”

Hinata’s back straightened as he finally got picked to go. “Dare!!” He exclaimed. Kuroo stopped in his tracks.

“Okay. While we’re still in the dorm area, I dare you to go in, ask Kenma for his PSP, then just leave with it.” Truth be told, Kenma always played the game long into the night. If Kuroo tried to take it away, there’d be hell to pay. But maybe Kenma would give in for Hinata.

“Alright! That’s not too bad.” Hinata started to skip towards the Nekoma dorm where the students were saying. The light was still on, signaling that all the players were still awake.

Hinata opened the door shyly, sneaking in but leaving the door open a crack so the boys could eavesdrop.

“Hey Kenma!” Hinata exclaimed as he walked over to the boy, his face still buried in the game.

“Oh, hey Shoyo. I thought you were practicing late?” Kenma asked, glancing up from his game to look at him.

“Oh yeah, but I got bored. Hey, I’m trying to figure out what games to get on my PSP. Can I borrow yours and see what all’s on it?”

“Sure thing,” Kenma handed him the gaming console.

“Thanks!” Hinata cheered, making a quick exit out the door with the device. He shut the door behind him and held it up triumphantly, handing it to Kuroo.

“Easy one.”

“Well, it’s never easy for me,” Kuroo chuckled. “He may actually be able to get some sleep tonight, thanks.”

“So it’s my turn?” Hinata asked as the group made their way back to the gym.

“Yup!” Kuroo answered.

“Kuroo. Truth or dare? Remember...”

Tsukishima grinned. “It has to be truth.”

“Okay, okay. I don’t like the feeling I’m getting but... truth it is.”

Hinata stopped, pulling the guys closer to him so he could keep his voice low. “Have you ever asked Kenma on a date?”

“What!?” Kuroo’s face turned bright red. “No! We’ve been friends for forever.”

“Yeah and? Same for the Great King and Iwaizumi but that didn’t stop them,” Hinata said simply, shrugging. A majority of the boys had no clue who he was talking about, but just figured it was one of the many people Hinata had befriended.

“He doesn’t like me like that!”

“You never know Bro!” Bokuto encouraged him, patting his back. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Silence.

“He doesn’t like him back and things get awkward,” Tsukishima answered truthfully.

“That! Exactly!” Kuroo exclaimed.

“I think you’d be fine. Kenma isn’t the type who’d hold a grudge over something like that if he doesn’t feel the same,” Akaashi explained, shrugging.

The group make it back to the gym, sitting against the wall. “Well, let’s put a pin in that for now. Lev, truth or dare?”

“Dare! Dare!”

Kuroo had an evil grin on his face. “Bad choice.”

“I take it-“

“Nope.” Kuroo got up and glanced out the door of the gym. “Perfect timing. Go out there, pretend to be sad, and ask Yaku for a hug.”

Lev’s mouth dropped open. “Do you want me to die?” He whined. “Yaku San will MURDER me!”

“A dare’s a dare,” Bokuto shrugged, pushing Lev to stand up and stumble towards the door. The boys all followed, standing in the doorway to watch the scene take place.

Lev forced tears to form in his eyes, biting his lip hard to get his eyes to water from pain. There was no way this would work. “Yaku San,” he whimpered, making his way over to his elder. Yaku was walking back to the dorms to call it a night.

Yaku turned to face him. “Lev? I thought you were practicing?”

“I was but...” he frowned. “Yaku San... can I have a hug?”

“What? Why?” Yaku’s eyes scanned the taller boy’s face, trying to find a smirk or anything to prove that Lev was pulling his leg, but nothing was there. He just looked... sad.

Lev flopped down onto his knees. “I’ve been practicing so hard and I just... can’t get it.” He ran a hand through his hair. Was this even acting anymore? What he’s saying felt true. “It’s frustrating. I feel like I’m not getting any better.”

Yaku rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms around the now-shorter-than-him Lev. “Don’t tell anyone about this,” he grumbled. “But you are getting better. I can tell. I promise.”

“You mean it Yaku San?” Lev asked, his eyes shining as he looked up at the boy. “Thank you!”

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” Yaku pulled Lev’s collar, pulling him close. “If you tell anyone, I’ll kill you.”

“You’re the best Yaku San!” Lev exclaimed, running back to the gym to tell the boys about his successful dare.

Lev entered the gym, but was cut off before he could even open his mouth. “We saw. Please don’t talk about it. I never want to talk about it again,” Kuroo looked pale, shocked to see his teammate showing his soft side.

Lev rolled his eyes. “Fine. Bokuto, truth or dare?”

“I love that nobody’s asked Akaashi yet,” Tsukishima pointed out.

Kuroo shook his head. “Akaashi’s dares are probably even worse than yours. We couldn’t give him that power.”

“You’ll have to eventually,” Akaashi shrugged.

“Anywaus! I already did a truth, so dare!” Bokuto said excitedly, pulling the attention back to him.

“Okay, okay.” Lev smiled to himself. “I’ve seen this around online. So I dare you to play the pocky game with Akaashi!”

“The pocky game?” Hinata asked, turning his head in confusion.

“Yeah!” Lev felt around in his pocket, pulling out a pack of pocky. “You put one side of the pocky in you mouth and the other in someone else’s, then you see who eats the most.”

Hinata’s eyebrows raised. He didn’t really get it, but he figured he would once they played it.

“Akaashi?” Bokuto asked, looking over at the setter. “We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable.”

“It’s fine, but it should count as a dare for me too.”

“That’s fair,” Kuroo nodded. “Go on ahead then.”

Lev pulled out a pocky stick, handing it to Bokuto. Bokuto gently held out the stick towards Akaashi, who opened his mouth and let Bokuto put the end between his teeth. Then Bokuto followed suit, cheeks bright red, trying not to get too close to Akaashi quite yet.

But then the game begun, and they had to get closer to one another. Bokuto hates losing, but Akaashi hates it even more. Akaashi didn’t give in, letting his lips press against Bokuto’s as he took the last bite to win. He bit the piece off then pulled away, a bright grin on his face. “That’s a win for me, Bo.”

“Trust me, that was a win for him too,” Tsukishima teased, picking up on the dazed dreamy look in Bokuto’s eyes. “Akaashi, maybe you should go, since he’s in another dimension right now.”

“Okay. I’ll even be nice. Lev, truth or dare?”

“It has to be truth, right?”

Akaashi nodded. “Who at this training camp, not including your team or those of us right here, do you think you’d get along with best?”

Lev paused, taking a minute to think. “Hinata and Tsukishima’s little blonde manager! She seems so sweet.”

Tsukishima shook his head. “She’d be terrified of you.”

“She gets nervous around tall people,” Hinata explained. “But I think you two would get along well once she got over that!”

“Oo! You should introduce us at some point then. I need a new best friend!”

The room fell silent once again.

“...Bokuto? I think you have to go now, since I already told two dares,” Lev said awkwardly.

“Oh yeah! Kaashi counted as a dare too. Well then... I have the perfect question.” Bokuto’s eyes lit up as he turned to his setter. “Akaashi, truth or truth?”

Akaashi rolled his eyes playfully. “Hmm... I’ll have to go with truth.”

“Perfect! Did you want to play the pocky game with me?”

“What?” Akaashi’s ears turned a very light shade of pink.

“You know, did you want to?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t a bad dare at all.”

Bokuto frowned. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Okay... yes, Bokuto San, I wanted to play the pocky game with you,” Akaashi admitted, refusing to meet Bokuto’s eyes.

“Akaashi!” Bokuto squealed, pulling him into a hug, swinging him back and forth. “You’re so cute!”

“Okay, okay, but... I need to ask a question now, Bo...”

Bokuto let him out of his tight embrace, but scooted closer so that he could rest his hand on top of Akaashi’s. Akaaahi’s face had still not calmed down from the bright red flush that had risen on his cheeks from Bokuto.

“I’m not taking this alone. Tsukishima. Truth or dare?”

“You’re screwed,” Kuroo whispered under his breath.

Tsukishima frowned. “Dare.”

Akaashi turned to Hinata. “What’s the name of the boy with the freckles on your team?”

“Yamaguchi?”

“Him.” Akaashi turned to Tsukishima. “Ask him on a date,” he dared, a small smirk on his face.

“I-“

“Tsukki!? You like Yams?” Hinata gasped.

“I knew you weren’t the brightest...” Tsukishima muttered. He pulled out his phone. “Can I just call him? He’s probably ready for bed by now.”

“You two know each other’s schedules. How sweet,” Kuroo gushed.

Tsukishima called Yamaguchi, putting it on speaker.

“Tsukki?” Yamaguchi asked. “You still practicing?”

“Yeah, sorry, I’ll be back soon. But I had something to ask you...”

Lev started laughing, and Kuroo clasped a hand over his mouth to conceal the sound.

“Okay? You’re freaking me out.”

“Will you go on a date with me? Once we get back home?”

The line went silent. Then Yamaguchi started laughing. “You called to ask that? Of course I will.”

“Great. I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay! See you then! Love you!”

Tsukishima sighed deeply, glaring at the boys around him who stared at him in disbelief. “...Love you too Yams.”

He hung up, pressing his face into the palm of his hands. “Don’t talk.”

The boys burst out laughing. “Love you too Yams,” Hinata cooed.

“You guys are dating!?” Bokuto exclaimed. “You never told me.”

“We never told anyone. It was pretty obvious though,” he shrugged. ���Anyways, Yams is waiting for me. Last one. Hinata, truth or dare?”

“Truth, I guess, but go easy on me.”

Tsukishima scoffed. “Oh, no way. Not now that you know about Yamaguchi and I. So? Do you like the King?”

“The King...?” Kuroo asked.

“Kageyama? Of course I like him! Wait- do you mean like, I like him like he’s a good setter, or I like him like we hang out and watch tv on the weekends, or I like him like sometimes I can’t focus when we play because his hair sticks to his forehead and frames his face so pretty and his skin just glows and he makes eye contact with me before he spikes but his eyes are just so pretty and that’s why I’ve had to close my eyes when I spike-“

“No. Nevermind. You don’t have to answer.” Tsukishima got up, walking to the door. “That was disgusting. Good night everyone.”

“You sure are leaving quickly,” Kuroo teased. “Got a date?”

“Yeah, I’ve gotta go cuddle with Yamaguchi. At least I had the nerves to ask out my childhood friend,” he winked, leaving the room.

Continuation:

Tsukiyama cuddling fic

Kuroken confession

[dameronology]

best friend {javier pena x reader}

summary: after finally calling it a day on a bad relationship, you turn to javier for comfort

warnings: mentions of alcohol + smoking, swearing

i was listening to best friend by rex orange county when i was writing this so i guess it’s loosely based on it? it’s definitely where the title came from. i hope you enjoy!

- jazz

Javier hated pulling all nighters - he especially hated them when it was Friday. Everyone else at the office was either going out to drink or going home to spend the evening with their families. The sounds of music and laughter that surrounded the outside of the DEA offices only acted as a reminder of how lonely he’d become; because, even if Colombia was the source of much of his grief, for others, it was their home. Their happiness and their life. Both of which, these days, seemed to be things he struggled to find

That wasn’t to say that his life completely lacked enrichment. Between the antics of you and Murphy, and the progress you were all making towards capturing Escobar, things weren’t all that bad. Especially you. He didn’t entirely know what your presence in his life meant, but it was a hell of lot. It felt like he’d finally started to see his life in colour when you were assigned the desk beside his. Your energy and your wit enriched everything, even if 99% of your relationship consisted of taking swipes at one another, 

If there was one thing he was grateful on nights like these, it was that the DEA apartment building wasn’t too far from the office. Murphy had clearly gotten home hours ago, because his car was in his spot and the lights to his unit at the front of the complex were dimmed. Your own vehicle was a few spaces over from Javi’s, terribly parked (as per usual) and barely between the white lines. At least he could take comfort in the fact that both his friends had made it home safe.

Or, you’d at least made it the front steps of the building. 

Javier almost did a double take when he saw you, a half-burnt cigarette in one hand and a completely empty bottle of wine in the other. You were slumped against the railings, eyes glued to the floor in front of you. He knew had it been a rough week - there had been a lot of bloodshed and not a lot of progress - but he hadn’t realised it had been that bad. And you would have told him, right? You told him everything. Literally everything. Probably more than you told your own damn boyfriend (who he hated - not that it was important). 

‘Jesus.’ Javi didn’t bother to offer you a greeting. 

You looked up at a him, a hazy smile playing on your face when your eyes met. ‘Agent Pena! How are you doing?’

‘You never call me that. I hate it.’ He muttered, dropping onto the stairs beside you. ‘Please don’t tell me you drove home like this.’

‘God, no.’ You snorted. ‘I drove home then went to a bar with Tom.’

‘How is he?’

‘Him? Yeah, we broke up.’ You casually shrugged. ‘So then I brought some wine and realise I left my keys.’

‘Oh, honey.’ Javi murmured. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t give me that, Jav.’ You elbowed him slightly. ‘I know you hated him.’

‘Guilty as charged.’

Javier stood up, moving the bottle aside and sticking his hand out to you. He didn’t exactly relate to what you were going through. Mostly because he didn’t get into relationships, or that he was always the one to end them. He hadn’t really known heartbreak in the conventional sense. Sure, he’d felt a pang in his chest when you first introduced him to your now ex just over a year ago, but that wasn’t loss. It was just..something he didn’t want to think about. It was a can of worms he’d been pretty good at keeping shut, and he was not going to start sorting through it at 1AM. He was far from drunk (unlike some people) but hours and hours of paperwork and chain smoking had fogged his brain. Right then, you needed a friend, and that was something he could be. Though you hadn’t shared all that much emotion together - mostly just careless banter and harmless teasing - your jobs had bonded you for life. You’d certainly witnessed a lot of twisted things, and it meant that you and Murphy were the only two people in the world who truly understood the kind of thing he dealt with. And, with all due respect to Murphy, you got on Javi’s nerves a fuck ton less. 

You tangled your fingers with his, letting him drag you up off the steps. Stumbling for a moment, you gripped onto his shirt for balance. It felt like somebody had taken a baseball bat to your head and to your stomach. Whether you wanted to chunder or faint first, you didn’t know. The only thing you could think about was the warm arms wrapping around your waist, and the feeling of Javier’s body being flush against yours as he pulled you against his side and guided you into the building. 

‘Where do you think you left your keys?’ He gently asked. He didn’t say anything when you slumped further against him, all your energy staying solely on walking and not falling. 

‘Thabar.’ You murmured.

‘Huh?’

‘The bar.’ You repeated. ‘I’ll go back in the morning. It’s fine.’

‘I don’t think you’ll be awake before midday.’ Javi chided. 

He held you there for a moment, fumbling about for his own keys, before kicking open the apartment door.

His place wasn’t bad, but it didn’t feel that far off of a show apartment, or the window of an Ikea. It was identical to yours, except you’d actually made yours homier. Javi’s, meanwhile, looked exactly as it had the day he’d moved in. None of the furniture had moved, and the television had probably been turned on a total of twice. Whilst your place was covered in photos and personally belongings, his was filled with bottles of whiskey and strewn leather jackets. He did have one photo hanging on his fridge; it was a Polaroid of him, you and Murphy, chilling out at your favourite bar. You were in the middle of them, practically hanging off their arms with a grin on your face. Javier would never let either of you actually know how much you meant to him. He couldn’t deal with the teasing. 

The next few moments were a blur of you dropping onto his sofa, hitting the leather with a thump. He tossed a warm blanket over you, before helping you kick off your shoes and taking a seat beside you. With the alcohol making you more brazen than usual, you didn’t think twice about curling against his side, and Javier didn’t think twice about letting you. He knew better than anyone that sometimes, a hug was the best medicine - so, he tossed an arm over your shoulders, pulling you towards him in a similar manner to how he had done in the hallway. The smell of his aftershave was gentle, mixed with a faint smell of cigarettes and the mint hand cream he insisted he didn’t use. It was just...Javi. And you loved it. 

‘Do you wanna talk about it?’ Javi gently asked, thumb rubbing circles over the bare skin on your arm.

‘I dunno what there is to say.’ You murmured. ‘I saw it coming. I definitely saw it coming but I just...I thought he was it you know. I mean, you probably don’t know because the one for you is whiskey and cigarettes-’

‘- is this an attack on me or your ex?’ He joked. 

‘Right, sorry.’ You peered up at him through hooded eyes. ‘Just hurts, y’know? Because for all his flaws, he’s probably as good as I’m ever gonna get.’

‘That’s bullshit and you know it.’ He reminded you. ‘That man never deserved you.’

‘He wasn’t that bad, Jav.’

‘Remember all the times you were in a bad mood because he was late, or because he didn’t turn up to a date?’ His brown eyes flickered, staring at the blank wall ahead. He didn’t mean to overstep, or to be protective, but it was just that it you. And that was reason enough. 

‘He was trying his best.’

‘If that’s his best, then he’s in trouble.’ He snorted. 

You groaned, flopping further down into his chest. ‘It’s hopeless. I’m hopeless. I don’t need a man to survive but maybe thats why I get through them so quickly.’

‘You’re not the problem.’ Javi said. 

‘My mum always said I was too much to handle-’

‘-  you’re not.’ He cut you off. ‘If they think you’re too much, then they’re not worth your time.’

‘There’s seven billion people on the planet. There must be someone, right?’

‘You don’t need to find somebody. You’re more than enough on your own.’ He said. (What he meant to say was: you don’t need to find somebody, but it’s okay if you want me). 

‘I know.’ You murmured. 

A silence fell over you. Javier wasn’t entirely sure what to say, because every time he tried to go over the possibilities, it kept ending with him declaring that he was the one you should be with. It made sense logistically. 

You didn’t like to be looked after, but you always let him. You both had the same job, so you both understood the struggle. The spark between you two was fucking immense and there was always something to talk about. It was hard to find a single reason not to be together - except for timing. And timing was kind of everything, especially when there was so much at stake. How much of it you needed, he didn’t know. That wasn’t even calculating in the fact that it would take Javier at least thirty more cycles of convincing himself to tell you before he finally took the plunge. 

‘Thank you for helping me tonight.’ You sleepily mumbled. 

‘Always.’ Javier replied. 

‘I’m trying not to fall asleep on you-’

‘- go ahead.’ He cut you off with a soft chuckle. 

‘I appreciate you.’ 

That was the last thing you managed, before sleep completely overtook you. This was new ground for your friendship - physical touch, deep conversations, Javi teetering dangerously close on the precipice of enlightening you with his feelings. The bottom could even have the best landing ever, or the worst. Was it worth the risk? 

Javi peered down at you, completely enamoured at the sight of you quietly snoozy, hand splayed out on his chest and eyes screwed shut. This could be an everyday thing. Domesticity and closeness and you. He could feel his chest physically hurting at the feeling; at the prospect of having you. Like, actually having you. 

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, brown eyes flickering up to the ceiling. That was when he knew in his very soul, the answer to that question.

You were worth every risk.