#so thinking about this will make it kick back up again no matter what unless we talk tomorrow‚ so if youre ok with bearing with me then cool

[gibbearish]

the thing with autism right. is i know if i was having a full mental health crisis what i would end up doing is going to the emergency room and being like "hello, my name is (x) birthday (y), um i was hoping to talk to you about potential mental health inpatient care? i'm currently having a mental health crisis and don't think i can be trusted on my own" like if there's one thing i can be sure will live on in me no matter how hard the brainworms try. is my fucking customer service voice

[nochepsicodelica]

Bear boyfriend Toji who dreads getting sick more than the average person. He gets so grumpy during this little stunt in his health because he can't do much besides manage his harsh cough and runny nose, rest in bed and eat, but that's not even what he's most upset about. He's so pissed off that he can't be around you, unless he wants to get you sick too.

Oh, but you make it so hard on him. Walking into the room with a mug of tea with that smile that could nurse anyone back to health. You linger for longer than you should, even after he told you that if you're in there for too long, you'll get sick too. It's an annoying dilemma because on one end, watching you be sick is one of the most heart wrenching things he's ever seen. Like him, you pretend that you're fine, when really you feel so debilitated by the virus that invaded your immune system. You tell him you feel better, but your hearing is muffled and your voice is gravelly and doesn't seem to be recovering quickly. Toji sees right through it and his protective instincts kick in. He insists on doing everything necessary to get you back up and running. On the other end, he wants to see you and kiss you and just hold onto you through this horrible time he's having. He hasn't kissed you in almost three days. It really sucks that he's sick, but it's entirely unfair that you can't be near him. There is truly so much for him to be reasonably grumpy about.

"Hey, you're gonna get wrinkles on your handsome face," you say, smoothing down the crease between his eyebrows with your thumb. "Do you really want me out of here that bad?"

He sighs. Your cool hands are heaven on his burning skin. "You know I don't, ma," he croaks out, pulling your hand down from his face and holding it. "I want you here, but you can't stay."

"Baby, you lost your pretty color. You look like a zombie, but also, it's killing me to only be allowed to check on you once every hour. I think it's time I come sleep in here, again."

"No," he protests, while shaking his head. He wishes he had rethought the gesture once he's steady again. He feels like he shook his brain and his head hurts, now.

"Toji, i'm taking care of you. I'm sleeping in our bed, tonight. I'm more worried about you than I am about getting sick."

He wants to laugh at how you sound like a mother scolding her child, but he knows it'll throw him into a nasty coughing fit. He can't argue with you too much in this state. He doesn't want to argue anyway. You care and it feels nice.

"If I get sick, I get sick," you say, settling down next to him, on your side of the bed.

Toji has never been one to pull the 'woe is me' card, but when you're smothering him with so much affection and cooing at him while caressing his uncomfortably warm face, it's hard not to lean into it. You relieve his discomfort with your methods of care. Be it medicinal remedies or your extra love and affection, even your patience. You weren't the one who proposed keeping distance from him. You didn't want to sleep on the couch those last couple nights, but you did it for the sake of letting Toji be comfortable. He's your lover and you don't see a reason to avoid him, like what he has is something more fatal. His contagiousness is disregarded, because it doesn't matter.

You know he would do the same for you so you don't wrinkle your nose when he starts feeling safe enough to nuzzle into you and sluggishly kiss you, while clinging onto you. He's extra clingy, too. Your body is a lot cooler than his, so it feels nice when he rests his cheek on your chest or when his hot, clammy hands go to your arms. You don't turn away or block your face when he coughs. You rub menthol onto his reddened chest and neck, and watch as he grins dumbly when his nose clears up for a little. When he falls asleep, you stay with him, even if he doesn't wake up for the next five hours. You watch over him and only get up to grab things that are necessary, like his medicine, some water, and a damp towel to wipe the sweat off his forehead and neck.

He takes on the role of the little spoon when you take care of him. Being pampered by you makes him feel small in all the best ways. He feels protected, like you're his guardian. It's really as if the only remedy he needs is you. The expanse of your love for him is unquantifiable, but when you wrap your smaller arms around him and press featherlight kisses onto his skin, it's like a force field that blankets him.

[devilfic]

part two to this because I can't stop thinking about them

you're actually really good at this.

miguel can count on one hand, maybe a few fingers less than that, the number of times he's met his match. not many could keep up with him, could take a blow from the full weight of his fist and stay standing, but you can. and you're relentless.

he could be shaking with rage and by the time he's spent sparring with you, you're still grinning with all the energy you had from when you first started. it's the thing that really excites you, he notices: the thrill of the chase, the struggle, the victory and defeat. because he never sees you get like that unless he's taking you. to the mat.

you get this feverish look in your eyes that he doesn't know how to satiate yet, but he likes testing your limits the same way you test his. he likes seeing that excitement on your face, it makes him keep coming back for more.

until he splits your cheek open.

you hadn't calculated correctly, hadn't considered how close his talon would come to your face until it had torn the skin beneath your eye in two. the blood dribbles down your cheek.

miguel's eyes go wild. when he first felt the resistance against his claw, he'd thought of much, much worse. he'd stood there, hand hovering between the two of you in a stunned silence waiting for something worse to happen. he watched the red pearl at the cut, so slim that had it been anyone else, he wouldn't have even hesitated, "shit."

you touch a finger to the blood, smearing it, "it's okay, it's nothing."

it is nothing. to anyone else in the spider society, it would be nothing. the super healing would kick in and wouldn't even scar. and he'd seen you heal before, had left bruises on you that mended themselves within hours.

he presses his thumb to the cut. a bead of your blood sits on the surface of his finger, a reminder that as strange and wonderful and powerful as you are, you bleed all the same. you watch him, curious, "you can have some. if you want."

his eyes flicker to you with that same shock from when you'd first caught him off guard, "what?"

you gesture to his thumb, "my blood. I don't mind it."

miguel stares, "I'm not a vampire."

"that's what gwen called you."

"I'm... spiders have fangs."

you frown, "then why-"

"are you sure you're okay?" miguel asks, even though he sees for himself that the blood has stopped. soon, your skin would sew itself back together. soon, this wouldn't even matter.

you soften. you melt. miguel doesn't know what to do with all the warmth in your expression... "of course. I can handle you, o'hara. no need to be gentle." and there you go again. you know exactly what you're doing when you say those words and look up at him like that. he feels hot under the collar. he presses his thumb into your cheek and smears the blood even more, but you just laugh, "I knew you had a soft spot for me."

his grumble is meant to be a growl—a warning—but he comes off sounding like a puppy who's bitten off more than he could chew, "not in this universe."

part three

[grimespial]

Too Sweet

Carl Grimes x Shane's Son Male reader

slightly aged up just for plot reasons

You did not have a good relationship with your dad.

He was practically two different people in public and private. In private you were mostly ignored, but if you weren't, then you were just a disappointment.

All because of Carl and Lori Grimes.

Nothing you could do would make him proud, he would throw you away in the blink of an eye if it meant taking Rick's place.

You and Carl used to get along, but you couldnt help but push him away, atleast it could be played off with you being older and teen moods.

Rick tried to include you, he was more of a dad to you than Shane, talking, playing, sports, just spending time but it just hurt.

So when the apocalypse starts, it's not a suprise you just happen to be left.

You somehow made your way to a farm, hoping it would be abandoned, but of course it wasn't and a woman on a horse came at you.

That's how you ended up joining the Greene family. It was hard. You actually got cared for, you practically were adopted

But then a boy was shot and Hershel had to help, and of course the people you honestly never wanted to see again had to show up.

Rick almost choked you with the hug he gave, Shane wasn't back yet, still out with Otis. The man who was teaching you to hunt with a gun because a knife won't always work.

Your dad came back, alone. You were already Maggie and Beth's brother, but Otis was like an older brother. And now he's gone.

When Carl woke up, Rick with all good intent, told him you were here. You would think it was magic how quickly he healed enough to go looking for you.

He was so insistent. Didn't matter how much you walked away, or replied rudely, he would just follow you everywhere.

For Carl, it was worth getting shot, because now you're back! He missed how you two hung out and when everything went down he didn't think he would ever see you again.

Everything was horrible with Shane, his whole group didn't even know you existed, even worse when they thought Shane was Carl's dad at the very beginning.

The Greene family were on edge around Shane, sometimes even getting hostile if he started crossing the line against their brother and son.

Rick had to step in and tell Shane to leave you alone until they found Sophia, because Hershel warned him they'd get kicked out if it continued.

Your relationship progressed without you or Carl noticing, but everyone else did.

Carl included you in everything, and included himself in anything you did.

It was hard to get over the jealousy, but with Shane gone and how Carl seemed so happy to spend time with you, like you were the greatest thing in the world, it was easier to heal.

Maggie was having the time of her life teasing you, hypocritical considering her and Glenn can't leave eachother alone.

What pushed you two to date was when Lori died. Daryl asked you to look after Carl, so you did. Spending time in his cell, getting him outside for some fresh air, just talking to him.

When he wanted some private time, you cared for Judith instead. Hershel joked that neither you or Beth should think about having a baby antime soon.

Maggie, humorous as always, told him there was no worry on your side unless Carl could get pregnant.

It was later when Carl came out of his cell, you were still looking after Judith while Beth made milk and Glenn helped Maggie make some food.

That night, you stayed up with Carl. He was struggling to sleep lately, so you stayed up until he fell asleep. This night he just started crying.

So you just hugged him. Nobody spoke. The only sound was Carl hiccuping and breathing while you wrapped your arm around his shoulder.

When Carl quieted down, he turned to see you, but you were already looking at him. And you were close.

It was easier to push away any feelings before, there was no time to think over feelings, more important things were happening.

But here you were face to face and before you knew it Carl kissed you.

Carl is practically your owner and you're the guard dog. Stubborn is your middle name, but one whisper of your name from Carl and you listen.

He never gets over the butterflies or blushing, you hold his hand and he's practically burning and trying to hold his smile back.

You constantly were protecting him. There was technically no need, he could take care of himself perfectly fine, but you insisted on it.

Sometimes it got annoying to him and he'd snap, Rick would end up explaining that you just care for him and dont want him to get hurt.

It's free entertainment for the adults watching you two go through a relationship.

You both sneak away from the group to make out, but when youre on the road its harder and Carl really doesn't want to make out in front of anyone, especially his dad.

You do end up breaking that rule one day, you were with Michonne after the prison fell, and when you found him you both just ran to eachother.

Cuddles are mandatory.

You have to be watched when eating, because you will just give Carl your food if it means he's healthier, Carl was not happy when he found this out.

Carl loves being pampered by you but he'll pretend he doesn't, but if you can't for whatever reason it doesn't feel right.

this is based off the Carl fic i have with the same premise, i might end up putting it on ao3...

[capquinn]

Just thinking about how Quinn said he was on a health kick two summers ago and didn’t drink at all then admitted he was the snappiest guy to be around so imagine how moody bf!quinn must be right now with that split lip, stitches tugging every time he so much as opens his mouth — it's not pretty.

He’d be so quiet, and not in the reserved, introspective way you’re used to, but in a brooding, simmering frustration kind of way that seems to pull the air out of the room. Like he’s retreating into himself because everything hurts. The stitches pulling with every word he says, and bruising that makes even the smallest movement a sore reminder. He's frustrated and just done with the week.

It’s the little things that pile up, the ones that are so routine, so instinctive, that they feel impossible to escape. First world problems, sure, but they grind him down all the same. Like how brushing his teeth feels like a battle — every bristle scraping against raw skin, the sharp sting of mint hitting the split in his lip. Or how he can’t kiss you without the stitches tugging, the area far too tender for any sort of outside contact, forcing him to pull back with a wince.

Smiling is a chore, laughing is unthinkable, and the absence of both casts a shadow over the entire week. He’s stuck in this cycle of discomfort, where even the smallest attempt at normalcy — something as simple as grinning at one of your dumb jokes — turns into a reminder of just how far from normal he feels. It’s maddening, this constant push and pull of wanting to feel like himself but being held back by the pain that seems to weave its way into everything.

Clipped answers become his norm: “yeah,” “no,” and “I don’t mind.” Even a simple, “what do you want for dinner?” gets met with a grumbled, “doesn’t matter,” because he knows whatever it is, it’s going to hurt to eat and he won't be able to finish it anyway. And the thought of wasting more food makes him even angrier at the whole situation.

“This sucks,” he mutters under his breath one night, poking at the soup you made him, the corner of his mouth twitching every time the spoon scrapes the bowl. Not that it actually sucked — it was good soup, great even, but everything else sucked, and the soup was just collateral damage in his war against the universe.

You bite back a smile, brushing your hand over his arm. “Want me to make something else?”

“No,” he mutters, leaning back against the dining chair. His hand drags through his hair in frustration before he props his elbow on the table, cupping his chin in his palm like he's truly defeated. His shoulders sagging as though the weight of the week is pressing down harder than ever. “It’s fine.”

Except it’s not fine. He’s not fine. He hasn’t been since that high stick knocked the wind out of him and it’s bleeding into everything.

Thinking of leaving the apartment? Forget it. Unless it’s absolutely necessary — practice, the gym, or a doctor’s appointment — he’s planted firmly on the couch, arms crossed, brows furrowed like he’s in a standoff with the world. If you try suggesting a walk, maybe some fresh air to help him reset, he just shakes his head, muttering, “don’t feel like it,” voice flat, eyes trained on the TV, and the conversation dies there.

Even in the middle of the night, he's moody. He shifts endlessly in bed, trying to find a position that doesn’t make his mouth throb. He rolls onto his back, then onto his side, then back again, each movement accompanied by a quiet sigh of frustration. When he tries to rest his cheek against your shoulder, seeking comfort in the usual closeness, it only makes the pain worse. He pulls back with a wince, muttering under his breath, his brows furrowing deeper as he resettles with a sharp exhale.

“Are you okay?” you murmur softly in the dark, your voice thick with sleep. “Anything I can do?”

“No,” he mutters, and there’s enough of an edge to it that you can tell he’s at the end of his patience. And then he sighs heavily. “Just… go back to sleep.” His voice softens, but only slightly, the strain still unmistakable. It’s clear he’s trying to hold back the weight of his frustration from spilling over entirely.

You don’t say anything. Instead, you shift closer, your hand brushing over his chest as you nestle into his side, your warmth folding into him like second nature. Half-asleep and instinctive, you press a kiss to his shoulder, the faintest, softest reassurance, as if to say I'm here, and you feel him exhale steadily, the tension in his body easing just just that little bit under your touch. His hand moves to rest on your back, his fingers tracing a slow, absentminded path across the fabric of your shirt, and i’s the kind of gesture he doesn’t even about, but it grounds him all the same, letting him focus on something other than the ache in his mouth or the restless churn of his thoughts.

The worst part? The guilt. It gnaws at him in the quiet moments, filling the spaces where his usual softness should be. Every sharp answer, every impatient huff, every time he brushes you off — it all piles up in the back of his mind, heavy and relentless. He doesn’t mean to take it out on you. You know that, and he knows you know that, but it doesn’t stop the weight of it from pressing down on him, tightening his chest with a frustration that feels as much internal as it does external.

There are times when he hears the bite in his own words before you do, the way they come out too quick, too rough, and the regret is immediate.

“Sorry,” he mumbles after one particularly clipped response earlier in the day, when your only reply is raised eyebrows, the universal look of really? His lips barely move when he says it, like even the act of apologising feels like its own brand of punishment — sharp, stinging, and a little too close to the guilt already swirling in his chest.

Sometimes, there’s no apology at all ��� just a quiet brush of his fingers over yours, or the weight of his palm resting on your leg when you sit beside him on the couch. His thumb moves in small, absent minded circles on your knee, a silent gesture of contrition and love. It’s not grand, it’s not elaborate, but it’s everything — his way of saying I’m sorry, I love you when the words won’t come, when he feels like his brooding might swallow him whole.

And yet, even in the middle of all of his frustration and discomfort, even when he feels like he’s at his worst, there’s still a part of him that tries. He catches himself before he can say something too sharp, lets his hand linger a little longer when he reaches for yours, or pulls you into his side on the couch even when it’s the last thing he feels like doing. It’s quiet, subtle effort, but it’s there — a reminder that no matter how bad the week has been, no matter how much he’s hurting or how heavy the guilt feels, his love for you is always louder than the noise in his head. It’s in the way his fingers thread through your hair later that evening, gentle and steady, as you rest your head in his lap. He leans down, presses the faintest kiss to your temple, even if it's a struggle, and whispers, “thanks for putting up with me.”

And of course you’re putting up with him. Because no matter how snappy or brooding or quiet he gets, he deserves all the love and patience he can’t quite muster for himself right now. He deserves the steady reassurance of your presence, the way you smooth your hand over his arm, or nuzzle closer into his side, silently reminding him that he’s allowed to have bad days, bad weeks even, and it doesn’t change a thing. But really, it's not about putting up with him; it’s about being there for him — fully, unconditionally, because if the roles were reversed, you know he’d do the same for you without question.

[mountttmase]

Change Of Heart

The Beginning - Part One

Note - first of all a big sorry to Elisa 😭 you sent me this request so bloody long ago but it’s finally here! I really hope you all enjoy this and please let me know what you think 🩷 chapter two out same time next week!

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 3.5k

Warnings - series contains angst & fluff

‘Mase, you up there?’ You called, not hearing any signs of life apart from the rustling of the leaves above but as soon as you spoke you saw the light of his torch flicker on.

‘I’m here, you need a hand?’ He offered, his face coming into view above you but you shook your head. Grabbing onto the wooden ladder as you began to hoist yourself up and into his treehouse. ‘This better be good, Mount. Cause if I get stuck up here again I’ll make sure you never kick a ball for the foreseeable’

‘It is, I promise’ he chuckled, helping you in as you got to the entrance and pulling you over to get settled on the cushions in the far corner. ‘What took you so long anyway?’

‘I had to get ready, I was practically in my pj’s when you text me’

‘I forgot, you can’t leave the house without your lipstick on’ he jibed, making you roll your eyes but you knew he was right. Ever since you were little you loved wearing makeup and as soon as you discovered red lipstick you wouldn’t put anything else on your lips. Mason rarely saw you without out as you never felt complete unless you had it on but Mason never made you feel silly about it.

Mason was your bestest friend in the whole world, meeting at nursery when you were three and going through school together in all the same classes meant no matter if you didn’t like him, you were stuck with him. That and both your dad’s being good friends helped the situation and even though you’d not been as close for a while when you were around 12 because boys sucked, you’d found your way back to each other and been besties ever since.

The treehouse you were currently in was in Masons garden, a street away from our own house and you used to come up here years ago all the time to get away from the adults. However, ever since Mason was growing busy with football and you were focused on your exams so you could get into uni, it was rare you did anything like this anymore.

‘Still smells the same up here’ you commented, facing him with a smile but you could tell he was eager to let you know his news. ‘Go on then, what is it?’

‘I’ve been signed’ he blerted, his wide toothy grin on full display and even though you were happy for him you had no idea what he meant.

‘Signed? What do you mean I thought you were already signed?’

‘Well yeah, but this is different. I’m going out on loan to another club and I’ll get to play properly. Like proper first team football’ he told you, his excitement infectious and you couldn’t help but smile along even though you were still a little confused.

‘Thats amazing, Mase. So you’ll play for a different club?’

‘Yeah, just for the season, and then I’ll be back in the summer’

‘But I can come and visit right?’

‘Well that’s kinda the thing’ he huffed. Scratching the back of his neck like he always did when he was nervous and you were sure you weren’t about to like what he was going to say. ‘It’s not around here’

‘That’s okay, I’ve made the journey up to Chelsea all the time’ you countered. Thinking he should have known you’d drive to him to hang out no matter where in the country it was. ‘And surely you’ll have away games? I’m sure some will be near my uni, right?’

‘Not exactly, y/n. It’s in the Netherlands, I’m moving overseas for a year ’

‘What?’ You breathed. Your heart sinking immediately at the thought of him being so far away but the excited smile on his face lifted you ever so slightly.

‘Yeah, but I really think this will be good for me’ he nodded and although you didn’t want to rain on his parade, you had your concerns.

‘I don’t like the thought of you being in your own all the way over there’ you pouted but he just sent you a reassuring smile.

‘No it’s okay, mums gonna live with me for a few months till I get my bearings and I’ll be fine after that. It’ll be good for me, you know? I might actually learn to grow up’ he laughed, tapping your knee in jest as you were always the first to call out his silly behaviour but even though he was making a joke of it, you didn’t want him to change. You loved that Mason didn’t take anything too seriously and some of your happiest memories he was involved in.

‘But I like you as you are’ you whispered, watching his face soften slightly. ‘Well even so, I’m still coming to visit. It might not be as frequent as before but I’ll still be there’

‘Thank you’ he smiled, his face looking shy just before you pulled him into a hug. Wanting to let him know how proud and happy you were for him and from the way he squeezed you tightly you could tell he appreciated it. ‘I wanted to give you something’ he told you shyly, the words getting lost in your hair before you both pulled back and the serious look on this face let you know this wasn’t going to be something light.

‘Oh Mase, you’re not gonna make me cry are you?’

‘I hope not’ he laughed, pulling away and reaching into his pocket where he produced a medium sized jewellery box and you felt your bottom lip drop immediately. ‘I haven’t even opened it yet’ he giggled, bumping his shoulder into yours playfully and you didn’t want to ruin the moment so you held it together as best you could.

‘Sorry sorry, I’m fine keep going’ you laughed, your eyes darting down to the box he was starting to open and your hands covered your mouth as he opened it up fully. Not being able to contain the gasp when you finally saw what was inside as your eyes flashed from his face to inside the box repeatedly.

Inside was a tiny white enamel heart on a dainty gold chain. It was simple and understated and definitely something you’d wear so the fact he’d picked it out made you smile.

‘Oh Mase’ you breathed, your watery eyes looking up into his soft ones and the small smile on his face made your heart thump in your chest. ‘it’s lovely’

‘Turn it over’ he whispered, nodding down into the box and after a beat you carefully reached out to flip the heart over and you caught sight of the small M engraved onto the back.

‘Sorry if it’s a bit cheesy, but we won’t be able to see each other as much as I want to, and I just wanted you to have something from me’ he explained quietly and his thoughtfulness made you want to sob.

‘No, Mase. I love it, thank you so much’ you told him. Hoping you sounded as sincere as you felt but from the smile on his face relaxed you.

‘That’s okay, I’ve wanted to get you something for a while just to say thanks you know?’

‘Thanks for what, I haven’t done anything’ you laughed but he just playfully rolled his eyes and he set the box on his thigh so he could get it out.

‘You have. You’ve always been here for me like you’re the bestest friend I’ve ever had’ he explained and as much as you wanted to tell him you felt the same, you were feeling terribly shy and did what you always did in these situations and tried to cover it up with humour.

‘Don’t tell dec that’ you laughed but he just scrunched his nose up at you.

‘You know what I mean, I know you’re involved with my football stuff but I like that I can forget about all that stuff with you too. Like I’m just Mason to you and I can’t tell you how much I need someone like you in my life’

‘I thought you werent gonna make me cry’ you laughed, flinging your arms around his neck again so you could hold him. Half because you wanted to and half in hopes he’d stop talking as you were far too emotional about everything and when you pulled away he motioned for you to turn around so he could put your necklace on for you.

You moved your hair to the side, shivering slightly as you felt his lips close to your ear as he tried to manoeuvre the chain around your neck and you could tell he was struggling to clasp it as the curse words fell from his lips causing you to giggle.

‘Why do they make these things so fucking small… ah there we go’ he laughed. Hands falling to your shoulders to give them a quick squeeze before you turned around to face him. A bright smile on his face as he took you in but you found the deep blush on his cheeks adorable.

‘I love it Mason, honestly thank you so much’ you smiled, your hand fiddling with the small heart but you could see he was still a little shy about it when he just shrugged.

‘Thought you might need something to remember me by’

‘I can’t believe you’re gonna be gone for a whole year’ you sighed, settling back into the seat next to him as you both looked forward. Your thighs touching as you were now sat so close but you didn’t care. Knowing you wouldn’t be able to do this soon for a while.

‘I know, hopefully it’s worth it though. Like if I’m good enough maybe Chelsea will have me, or some other other team and I can play full time’

‘Of course you’re good enough’ you laughed, bumping his shoulder with yours and the sound of his laugh made you smile.

‘You know if I do make it, I’ll finally be able to afford to take us on that safari we’ve always talked about’ Mason laughed and even though it was still a pipe dream, the thought of the pair of you maybe getting to do something you’d always dreamed of excited you more than anything.

When you were little, you loved watching nature documentaries but your favourites were always about Africa and the rhinos. Every birthday party was safari themed and whenever Mason had a free weekend you’d go to the zoo and talk about how cool it would be to see them in the wild, Mason promising he’d take you one day when you were older. You had both saved up your pocket money for years but that had since all been spent on silly nights out and things you needed for uni and even though Mason obviously made money from football the pair of you were still young and had years to figure it all out.

‘You sure you’re gonna have time for little old me when you’re all big and famous?’ You teased.

‘Of course I will, I’ll always make time for you no matter what, you know that right?’

‘I do’ you whispered but you suddenly felt a wave of anxiety wash over you as his face changed into an expression you’d never seen before.

‘Listen, I need to tell you something else. I didn’t bring you here just to give you that’ he mumbled, his voice quiet as he looked almost shy and you sat quietly in hopes he’d carry on talking. ‘I want to say something, okay? I didn’t want us to leave with anything unsaid between us and i need you to just hear me out’

‘Okay’ you whispered, unsure as to what he was about to say so you got yourself settled as he took a deep breath and got ready to speak.

‘I really like you’ he admitted, eyes trained on the floor as you gave him time to carry on speaking. ‘Like, not just as a best friend…’

Oh

‘I just wanted to know if you liked me too, in that way? Cause if you did you know I’d do anything to make it work like whatever you want me to be I’ll be’ he smiled, looking up at you hopefully but you knew your expression was one of shock. ‘I really think I could make you happy, you’re my best friend y/n but I really want us to be so much more and it didn’t feel right not saying anything before I left’

What were you supposed to say to that?

Mason was your best friend, the person you told all your secrets to and the one who’s presence brought you comfort like no other and whilst you couldn’t say you'd never thought about him as more once or twice there was no way you saw it ever working out. Especially not now.

Mason was off to goodness knows where for a year at least and you were off to uni to start your new life and the thought of a boyfriend you never saw wasn’t in your plans. You were both on the cusp of a fresh start and whilst you’d always want Mason in your life you weren’t sure this would be a good decision.

You knew what you had to do, but the thought of breaking Mason's heart and possibly losing him altogether made this even more difficult. His bright eyes were trained on you and you struggled to find the right words to say.

‘Mason’ you breathed, taking his hands in yours but the hopeful look on his face crushed you. ‘Mason I’m so sorry i-‘

‘Oh’ he whispered, taking his hands away from yours before you got a chance to explain anything but the slight nod of his head made your eyes sting. Hopefully he’d understand your point of view straight away but even if he didn’t you were just hoping he’d give you a chance to explain yourself.

‘You’re my best friend, you know that right? And when we think about each other I want it to be good thoughts only. You leave soon and so do I, like I don’t want us to ruin what we have you know? We’ll never be able to see each other and there’s so much change about to happen, I just don’t think it’s a good idea to make even more changes’

He was silent, eyes sad as he took in your words and when you cautiously cupped his jaw he shut them completely so you couldn’t look at him.

‘I’m sorry Mase’

‘It’s fine’ he gulped, pulling out of your grasp and you felt your heart sink. ‘You’re probably right, we’ll both be away a lot and it’s gonna be difficult to talk and-‘

‘Wait’ You interrupted, touching his arm in hopes he’d stop talking as you could tell what he was thinking a mile off. ‘I still want you in my life, this isn’t me trying to get rid of you or anything. You’re still my best friend, Mase’

‘I know’ he gulped, trying to smile up at you but you could see it was all fake. The gravity of how much you’d hurt him now settling in and you wished you could take it all back. ‘I want the same but I might need a little time’

‘Oh Mase-‘

‘Honestly it’s fine’ he laughed, trying to deflect. ‘I just didn’t want to leave without anything unsaid’

‘I’m so sorry’ you whispered, feeling the tears you’d been holding in suddenly fall from your eyes as you quickly tried to wipe them but he’d seen them fall already. ‘Please don’t hate me’

‘It’s alright, come here’ he smiled, opening his arms for you to settle into. Your face buried in his neck and his warm skin pressed against yours bought you comfort like nothing else. ‘I could never hate you, okay? We’ll be fine, yeah? We’ve both got our own things going on like you’re gonna go to uni and you’re gonna smash it’ he told you, making you laugh through your tears and he squeezed you tighter at the sound. ‘You will, I know you will. You’re the smartest person I know’

‘And you’re gonna go out to the Netherlands and show them all how amazing you are, and you’ll come back to Chelsea and get straight into that first team and I promise you, you’ll alway have me right there cheering you on’

‘Thank you’ he whispered, his face crumpling ever so slightly so you pulled him into you so you could share a hug. The both of you sad but hopeful for the future and when he squeezed you tightly you held him back just as hard.

Not too much long after, the pair of you made your way back out of the tree house so you could get home. Reaching up to leave a soft kiss on his cheek and wiping away the lipstick stain straight after but the sad smile that you weren’t sharing something more was clear on his face and you couldn’t handle upsetting him anymore so you made a swift exit.

You had no idea what to say to him, thinking it was probably best you let him come to you and just as you were starting to lose the will to live after two days of silence, a message came through from him and you opened it up as soon as you could.

You felt your heart shatter as soon as you read his text over. He didn’t have the heart to talk to you right now and he was leaving in the morning meaning you didn’t get a chance to say a proper goodbye to him.

You felt responsible for it, shooting him down like you had but you really did think it was for the best. Long distance never seemed to work and you loved Mason as your friend. Now just wasn’t a good time for the both of you as you took your different paths in life but him disappearing like he was stung.

You wanted to let him know you’d still be there for him just like you’d said you would be, that the door would always be open for him to talk to you so you sent him a text back as soon as you could. Your heart breaking a tiny bit knowing this would be the last you’d hear from him for a little while but you were starting to realise that’s what happened when you grew up.

You felt crushed. You knew he might have been a bit upset but the fact he was denying you the chance to say goodbye properly made you feel weird. Like your tummy was sinking and even though you said it was fine you could feel your bottom lip wobbling as you tried to hold in your tears.

This is exactly what you didn’t want to happen, for it to be awkward and for you to be upset with each other but you took note of what he said and believed he would text you soon. Hoping he’d miss you as much as you knew you’d miss him.

But clearly that feeling never came for him.

One week turned into a month. That month then into two and before you knew it it was Christmas and you still hadn’t heard a peep from him.

You’d kept up with what he was doing, knowing it had been hard for him the first few months out there but things had started to pick up and you wanted to speak to him more than anything. Writing out a million texts but always deleting them as you felt stupid and couldnt handle the rejection.

Thankfully with you at uni, you missed the questions from both sets of your parents. You had moved to the north east of London and it was a good few hours to get home so you only went back on breaks and holidays but the sight of Mason's tree house always haunted you.

A part of you wanted to rewind time, to be up there with him and tell him that you’d be his and you’d find a way to make it work but deep down you knew that wasn’t what you felt for him.

Whenever you did get to see his family though, they never mentioned the fact you and Mason hadn’t spoken. Clearly he was telling them everything was fine so you did the same but turned the energy you had from missing him into working extra hard and you managed to pass your first year with a 1st and at the top of your class.

You knew he’d be home soon, but you didn’t know what that meant for the pair of you. Did he want to see you? Did you want to see him? Was there any coming back for the pair of you? You had no idea, but you knew you’d have to face him at some point you just didn’t realise how soon.

Tag list - @saltyheartnightmare @harvestmount @prideofpd @sid-vii @carlottawllms @footiehoemcfc @katharinanadiaa @whenelifallsinlove @neverinadream @cityzenchick @msnmnt @stikkibun @masonmtxo @chillymountsjess @yoursselo @maseymm

[holylulusworld]

Indifferent (6)

Summary: Your father wanted a bond between you and the Barnes Empire. No matter what.

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader

Characters: Captain Syverson

Warnings: arranged marriage, angst, arguments, mafia au, strong reader, jealousy, language, mentions of domestic violence/slight violence against Bucky  

Catch up here: Indifferent (5)

Indifferent Masterlist

He drags you along the hallways, growling insults at Thor, who has already left the mansion. Bucky is seething and cannot contain his anger any longer.

Bringing a man to his home was a mistake you won’t make again. You crossed a line, and fear, Thor, will pay the price one day.

“I swear, if you do not let go of me, I’ll call my father. I’ll file for divorce and tell everyone that the reason was domestic violence.” You kick Bucky and slap him to break out of his iron grip. “They all were right. The worst thing you can do is to stay married to the wrong person!”

“You are the wrong person, not me,” Bucky yells and pushes you inside the bedroom you used to share. “Maybe you enchanted my mother, but I can see right through you. You’re nothing but a slut whoring her way around town while pretending to be underfucked.”

“You fucking asshole!” You slap his face hard. Gasping, you look at the angry handprint you left on his cheek. He doesn’t seem to mind. Bucky guides you toward the bed, smirking when you start to squirm harder in his hold. “Let me go!”

“From now on, you’ll sleep here. You won’t leave the house without me, and you won’t talk to my mother unless I’m around.”

You purse your lips and hold his gaze. “Make me, Barnes. Come on. Hurt me, leave bruises or a split lip. Do you think getting slapped by your mother and me hurts? Do you want my father to get his hands on you?”

Bucky leans closer to brush his nose over your cheek. He chuckles before whispering in your ear, “Your father permitted me to bend you to my will. I told him about your mishap with your masseur and that you refuse to give me an heir.”

You narrow your eyes. “Wow, you stooped so low? Really?” You shake your head. “Whenever I believe you could be a better man than you’d like to admit, you prove me wrong.” You chuckle humorlessly. “Did you tell Daddy that you refused to consummate our marriage? Did you tell him that you despise the thought of touching me?”

“I hate everything about you.” You flinch at his words. Even though you wanted to ignore his hurtful words, you felt an aching in your chest. You swallow thickly but stubbornly hold his gaze.

“Good,” you reply. “Then there will be no misunderstandings. I hate you too. There’s nothing lovable about you, either.”

“You’ll play by my rules from now on—no more meeting up with my mother. No more Thor putting his hands on my wife. No more talking back.”

You smirk darkly. “If you and Daddy get along so well, why don’t you both fuck yourselves, or each other?” Remembering the moves your bodyguard taught you, you jump into action.

The last thing Bucky expects is that you headbutt him. He drops his hands from your arms and back paddles.

“Fuck you!” He blocks your punch but doesn’t see the kick to his balls coming.

Bucky doesn’t know what hits him until he holds, once again, his crotch. He whines and watches you sidestep him. You spit onto the ground, next to him, openly disrespecting him.

“As long as you do not respect me,” you growl, “you won’t get shit in return. Go and make more plans with my father. You are both dead to me.”

You walk away with your head held high. Bucky Barnes won’t break you, and neither will your father. If they both want to fuck you over, you’ll pay them the hard way.

The next morning, your plan stands. This is your life, and you won’t waste more time on a man hurting and ignoring you all the time.

No more trying to get along with your husband.

No more playing the obedient daughter.

Your father wants to side with your husband, so be it. You’re not going to take shit from them any longer.

If you are going to go down, you will go down swinging.

Your bags are already packed, and your former bodyguard helped you carry them out of the mansion. He won’t leave your side and make sure you’re safe.

“You sure about this, sugar?” He dips his head to glance at you standing next to him. Sy is still a giant next to you. “I can still shoot his brain out.”

“My father would kill you,” you softly reply.

“I’m a freelancer now.” He shrugs. “And I’m not afraid of your old man, sugar. Tell me to break that bastard’s neck, and he’s gone. I know how to let a man disappear.”

You chuckle. Sy always had the power to make you laugh when you want to cry. “No. I only wanted someone around to keep him from stopping me from leaving.”

“If he dares to put his hands on you, I’ll break his neck.” Sy puts his hand on your shoulder, gently squeezing.

“Let’s just go. I placed the signed divorce papers on his desk. There’s nothing left to say but… fuck you…”

While Sy guides you out of the mansion, looking left and right at Bucky’s men, you feel hope for the first time since you married Bucky.

Part 7

Tags in reblog.

[daceydeath]

Try Again?

Pairing: Chan x F Reader Word Count: 2K Genre: Hurt/Comfort Warnings: Swearing

A part two of Why

You needed time to think the scandal was growing and you needed to be sure that you believed Chan or whether you should walk away for good

It had been almost twenty four hours since you had asked Chis to leave your apartment and the first seven, you predicted of many, bouquets of flowers had already arrived at your door. Although you conceded not all of them were from him, one had been from Felix, you were still not sure what to do. You knew about articles on Dispatch titled "Stray Kids Bang Chan Caught Kissing Mystery Woman" and "Stray Kids Bang Chan Takes Advantage of Fan". There were dozens of smaller articles of Chan with the whore sitting on his lap and all of them made your heart break a little more. You believed him but somewhere in the back of your mind you knew that there was always a chance he was lying to you to keep what he already had from slipping through his fingers.

Your phone rang for the twenty eighth time only this time it wasn't Chan or his manager it was Changbin and you knew at least he would tell you the truth, probably. There was little for him to lose, you would remain friends with the other guys whatever happened, you just wouldn't be able to see Chan again. Ever.

"I'm so sorry we didn't stop her" Changbin blurted loudly as soon as you answered the call "Shit we knew she was going to cause a problem as soon as Hyunjin spotted her following us".

"Bin, start from the beginning" you mumbled your voice scratchy from crying. You felt too listless to bother trying to piece information together.

"Hyunjin spotted her while we were filming and she seemed to be following us, when we finished and went out to the bar she popped up again and we knew she was going to cause some kind of issue, the psycho ones always do. But none of us guessed she was going to launch herself at Chan hyung and try to kiss him let alone sit in his lap. She was on him for like 15 seconds before security grabbed her and kicked her out" Changbin prattled before taking his first breath, you understood now why he was a rapper with the ability to speak so clearly but almost so fast you couldn't follow him.

"You were drunk Bin, Chan told me you all were" you sighed sitting on the floor in your lounge unable to even bring yourself to sit on the couch you had been sitting on when he had told you.

"Not that drunk! sure we were all a bit worse for wear but not so much that we didn't panic the moment she jumped hyung" he defended knowing that you knew he rarely got plastered unless he was somewhere that Stay wouldn't see him.

"So a sasaeng followed you around all day and then to the bar and you all did nothing until she decided to sit in Chan's lap and try to kiss him? That's the story you are going with?" you sniffled you had already run out of tears so an almost miserable apathy was all you could manage at that point.

"I'm not lying to you" Changbin's pretty much shouted down the phone frustration evident in his voice "Fuck I have no stake in what happens between you and hyung but I would prefer than neither of you get hurt by bullshit that was caused by someone else".

You stayed silent, your shaky breath probably the only thing he could hear as the moments dragged on before you hung up adding him to the growing list of people you were blocking as the day wore on. You were too tired to deal with this now and no matter what anyone thought you had to protect yourself first.

Another two days passed and another two of the boys had joined your blocked list for not getting the message and blowing up your phone, the list now stood at four members and three managers, you had just hoped that the others would get the hint and either contact you sparingly or just leave you alone until you were ready to deal with it. The articles kept coming, the whore had been sure to give out as much information as she could making the story grow exponentially and Stay were getting angry that the members were being crucified with no evidence to back the claims up. You were now seeing the situation for what it was and to quote Changbin it was just 'bullshit'.

"Holy shit bug are you ok? Everyone is so worried since you just disappeared" Felix asked as he stepped into your apartment with Hyunjin and Minho on his heels. You had invited them over so you could ask them exactly what happened and how Chan was doing, hoping you could finally either tell him that you believed him or to never contact you again.

"I'm better, I just needed some time" you smiled, accepting his tight hug and letting them sit where they wanted "Can I get you anything?".

"No, we brought you coffee though, to perhaps help" Minho offered, placing an iced latte down on your coffee table.

"Thanks Min" you smiled as genuinely as you could. All of the members had been so kind to you after they met you and found out you were with Chan and Minho was no exception to that even though it took him longer to come around.

"Three shots with vanilla syrup" he smiled in return and waited for you to sit down.

"I didn't want to call you and tell you over the phone" Hyunjin started nervously "I wanted to be able to tell you the truth and you be able to see it".

"That's more than I deserve Hyunnie, I've been quite the bitch over the past few days" you felt the skin of your face burning in shame at your admission.

"You were hurt, you had every right to feel what you were feeling" Felix interjected his normally cheerful bright smile replaced with a small shy one.

"We had been filming a Skz Talker" Hyunjin sighed watching you take a sip of the coffee "This girl was following us, but always off camera and only when we were in public, I noticed her after one of the managers was grumbling about her. She seemed fairly harmless just taking pictures and filming us, which isn't as bad as some of the shit they do, so I ignored her".

"Hyunjin pointed her out to a couple of us so I saw her and I'm pretty sure Seung and Innie did too but I'm not totally sure. But she honestly didn't seem as bad as some of the others do so we were probably not cautious enough about her which is on all of us, the managers included" Minho frowned, his eyes sadder than you had seen them in a while.

"When we went to dinner I don't think she was there and then the little bar we went to after that was so small there can't have been more than twenty other people in, including the staff" Felix added cautiously "but granted I hadn't seen her until it happened".

"We had a few drinks, Channie hyung was tipsy and barely at that, and she just appeared and wandered over like she was a friend. He didn't even see her until he sat on him and he was too stunned to even do anything about it, when he didn't react she grabbed his shirt and kissed him which he shut down immediately" Hyunjin continued slowly letting the information sink in. "He just about shoved her to the floor though, once we all yelled and the managers grabbed her Chan hyung just started cursing her out for being a psycho and disgusting, I think Minho hyung called her an whore because he is savage when he wants to be"

"An attention seeking whore but yeah semantics really" Minho confirmed, shrugging casually.

"We were all shocked and Channie hyung just broke down after it all happened and kept saying he needed to see you, he had to tell you but by the time we got back into Seoul and he got here it had already become a scandal" Felix pouted looking like he was the one who had messed up.

"Thank you all for telling me" you smiled halfheartedly, sipping your coffee again.

"Have you eaten today?" Minho asked seriously, looking at you sympathetically.

"I'll order something for dinner in a little while" you nodded your body feeling drained "I promise".

"Are you going to talk to hyung? He's losing his mind over this, not even the rumors and bad press over you not talking to him" Felix questioned as sweetly as he could.

"I'll call him" you again nodded as they all got up to leave, letting you walk them to the door.

"I swear that's the truth" Hyunjin took your hand to squeeze it "Hyung would rather give up his career than lose you".

"I would never allow that Hyunnie" you squeezed his hand back before they walked out and you shut the door behind them. You knew they hadn't lied to you and you also knew that Chan probably hadn't eaten or slept since it happened which made you feel so guilty that you felt your throat tighten. Taking a deep breath you unblocked his number and waited to see if anything happened, opening your food app you ordered something to arrive in an hour knowing that you would forget about it otherwise. Five minutes after the boys left your phone rang, Chan's picture filling your screen and making your heart clench.

"Baby girl?" He whispered his voice croaky "Baby girl please talk to me".

"Hi Channie" you answered him, your voice shaking.

"Oh shit, baby girl I'm so sorry. I've missed you so much and I'm sorry I fucked everything up and broke your heart but I'll do anything, absolutely anything to get another chance. Please. I love you so fucking much I can't breathe without you". He rambled, his voice turning thick as you imagined tears springing into his eyes.

"Channie, you don't need another chance, you didn't lose the first chance" you explained "I spoke to Hyunjin he told me everything and I'm so sorry I doubted you. I should have known you would never do that to me. I should have trusted you more but I was so scared that you might not love me anymore and I already knew you were too good for me so.... I'm sorry Channie".

"No, no, no you have nothing to be sorry for" Chan interrupted "I'm coming round I don't want this conversation to be over the phone. Is that ok?"

"The doors open Channie" you smiled as he hung up and you imagined him rushing around to get to your apartment.

When he arrived you almost cried looking at how tired and wrecked he looked, heavy bags under his eyes, his hair a mess and his cheeks pale. He didn't say a word, just pulled you into his arms holding you so tight that you thought he might not let you go again.

"I love you, I'll leave Stray Kids, I'll quit music, I'll announce we're together whatever you want me to do to prove I mean it" he breathed into your hair his lips pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

"You will do none of those things Channie" you softly protested your voice muffled against his chest "But maybe get more security to stop the insane people getting so close to you?".

"I will definitely do that baby girl" he sighed, his hold on you relaxing slightly "can we try this again?".

"We never broke up Channie I just needed some time, I didn't leave you I just needed space" you whispered "I know I was a bitch and went about it the wrong way. I should have told you what I needed instead of just shutting you out but I still love you very much".

Chan let go of you tilting your face to look at him, his smile so bright that it was almost blinding before he crashed his lips into yours, the emotion behind the kiss a promise that it would never happen again, that his heart and soul belonged to you. Melting against him you knew you would never not trust him again you loved Chan and that was all that mattered.

a/n: I know this took me like a year to finish but I hope you enjoy it all the same. Your likes, comments, reblogs and support means everything to me and I adore you all xx

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz @armystay89 @damnyouficc @roamingpolar

@tara-skyhold @bakedlilgoonie @krishastumblernow @mrsseals16 @fawnpeaks

@leeknowinggg @tanzen-ist-gold @uno7 @ocean-dreamer-sky-chaser

[ijwtbap]

ㅤㅤ★ㅤA promise — Bakugō

— Bakugō x GN! reader.

You like Katsuki, he likes you — is a fact not a maybe. He doesn't seem to believe it thought.

a/n. I had to keep my promise ig. Is VERY short so im sorry, also Im bad at english and is my first one shot so have some mercy plz.

You were going insane. Just a little bit. Well, actually, you were ready to rip out your hair and scream into the void, standing naked as flames consumed you. That's kind of insane.

Every time Bakugō referred to you as his friend—even if he only said you weren’t that annoying and didn’t mind having you around (which was close enough)—you wanted to disappear.

You had done everything but treat him platonically. Sure, you could see how holding hands, cuddling, or crying together might seem platonic. But kissing in bed and saying “I love you” in a completely serious way?

You were completely lost.

At first, you thought it was a joke, then maybe just a game to him.

But now? Now you’re convinced he’s just... dense.

You could tell Bakugō you love him dead serious while looking him dead in the eyes, on your knees and with a big sign that said 'plz marry me,' and he would still think you're joking.

And it was killing you.

"Are you going to study or what?"

You were in his bedroom, "studying." Yeah, right—studying. You just wanted to be there with him. You’d barged in without warning, and yet, he hadn’t even questioned your presence.

"No."

You knew he liked you back. There was no way he didn't, but fuck, he refused to acknowledge it.

"I like you."

His eyes widen for a second before he looks back at his notes.

"Shut up."

"I really do, tho."

"Yeah, whatever."

"I love you."

"If you don't stop, I will kick you out."

"I love you."

" __________ "

"I love you so much."

"Stop it."

"I want to marry you, one day when we're adults. Small or big wedding, or none at all, whatever you prefer."

"I'm being serious."

"So am I."

You two look at each other, him holding his pen so hard that it looks like it's about to break and you looking at him as if he were the most wonderful and prettiest dense idiot you have seen in your life.

"What do you need me to do to make you believe me?"

He ignores you. Mostly because he knows that paying attention to you would just make him more annoyed (because you clearly weren't going to stop) and because he didn't want to accept it.

"Die."

A small smile comes to your mouth. How many people would get offended by that? A lot, but you knew Bakugō didn't mean it.

"You want to recreate Given now?"

Bakugō rolls his eyes, making more notes in his notebook, but you were able to notice a small smirk.

You had forced him to watch it a couple of months ago, and he swears he didn't cry. You knew the truth, though.

"Shut up."

"Shut me up yourself, you coward."

He lets out another scoff, and he continues to avoid your eyes.

"Study already."

You loved Bakugō Katsuki, and he loved you back.

No matter how much time it would take you, you were going to make sure to take his last name and hold his hand in a not-platonic way.

One day.

"I love you."

I totally didn't use like 3 grammar online correctors, and re read this like 20 times (It will still have an issue, and I know it). I also didn't copy inspired my introduction (?) from a random post.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed my bad writing style. Im not doing this again, unless I get REALLY bored.

521 words.

[lloydskywalkers]

moats and boats and waterfalls

Read on AO3

Post-Crystalized — after surviving apocalypse no. 2 (possibly 3, currently under debate) the ninja now face the unspeakable horrors of budgeting.

(Years late to the Crystalized party but here's part one of my seven billion fanfics about this season because there are Thoughts to be had about this one)

As it turns out, rebuilding a monastery is a whole lot more trouble than rebuilding the Bounty for the eightieth time. 

And by trouble, Cole means incredibly expensive.

“Re-installing central heating costs what?!” 

Kai’s horrified cry reverberates throughout the half-constructed monastery, the echo from the noticeably empty rooms only adding to insult. 

Oh, what Cole would give to have his bed back. 

“I guess we’ll have to use you during the winter,” Nya sighs, patting Kai on the back. “Lloyd, get ready to supercharge him.”

“Forget heating, do you know how much Wi-Fi costs?” Lloyd stares at the estimated summary like it’s personally kicked his pet. “Who even has that much money? God?”

“If god had money, he could’ve given Sensei Wu his inheritance and we’d all be loaded,” Jay mutters. “But noooo, ‘material possessions are the death of the soul’, blah blah blah, we’ll see whose soul is dead when the gas cuts out and he can’t make midnight tea anymore.” 

“It does seem a bit extreme, looking at it all like this,” Zane remarks. Somewhat ironically, as he’s taken one look at the bill then wisely retreated across the room. 

“Well, blowing up the entire monastery with us in it was extreme, so it figures repairs are just as bad,” Nya grumbles. 

They all shift, the mood dampening at the reminder. 

Lloyd opens his mouth. “I’m sor—”

“Do not,” Kai stabs a finger at him. “Even try.”

Lloyd slumps. “If I hadn’t gotten caught—”

“We all agreed to the plan, okay?” Cole says. “Also, no one knew we’d be sending you to Harumi, so the whole thing was doomed from the start.”

While he looks a bit miffed, Lloyd gives it up. Though perhaps that’s mostly in part because he desperately wants to avoid any more conversation about—

“So speaking of Harumi,” Jay starts. 

Lloyd springs for the window. 

Unfortunately for Lloyd, said window is currently boarded up by heavy-duty plywood, since quality window glass fell low on the list of priorities, which gives Kai plenty of time to tackle him before he can even raise his leg to kick it in. 

“No!” Zane cries. “We can’t afford anymore plywood!”

“Or like, Band-Aids at bare minimum, so don’t you dare!” Nya adds. 

“—overdramatic phase has gotta go, what are you, five — hey, no biting!”

Lloyd makes a muffled sound as he wrestles on the floor with Kai. Cole turns, very slowly, to glare at Jay.

“Oh come on, we were all thinking it,” Jay defends, reluctantly standing to help pry Lloyd from the floor. “Fine, hey, I promise we won’t talk about certain loser ex-princesses who are nice and cozy in their prison cells right now, okay? There, there, little gremlin, she can’t hurt you anymore—”

“I’ll bite you next,” Lloyd threatens, but he returns to his seat, wincing as Kai scuffs his hair. 

“Turn Oni again, and that might be an actual threat.”

Lloyd startles terribly, staring at Kai with wide eyes. “That’s — not — I wouldn’t—”

“Kai,” Nya hisses.

“Woah, hey, no, I didn’t mean it like that!” Kai says quickly. “It’s supposed to be positive reinforcement! Easing it into a normal thing, y’know?”

Lloyd growls. “Nothing about this is a normal thing—”

“Except none of us are normal, so therefore it is,” Kai interrupts him smoothly. “Also we already loved you when you were a tiny demon, turning into a literal one is nothing. Give us some credit.” 

Lloyd pulls his hood over his flaming face, thunking his head against the table. Kai pats him cheerfully on the shoulder. 

“Additionally, unless we can swindle someone by selling Lloyd in his Oni form on the black market for cold cash before stealing him back, I don’t see how this helps matters.”

Zane finds himself on the receiving end of five blank stares. Lloyd, successfully having been pulled from his hood, whistles. 

“I forget how evil you can be, sometimes.”

Kai gapes at him. “So that makes you feel better?”

“I mean, in terms of normalizing it—”

“Alright!” Cole slams his hands on the table, silencing them all. He glares them down. “Meeting room in five. We’re figuring out how to make this place livable if it kills us.”

There’s a brief silence, then Jay hesitantly raises his hand.

“Hey, so uh, we kinda don’t have a meeting room right now?”

Cole collapses on the table in despair. 

---

Twenty minutes and one session of shoving chairs into what could have been the living room later — it’s hard to tell, with all the construction markings and plywood still up — they’ve kicked off the official first meeting of the Finish-Making-the-Monastery-Livable plan. 

“Alright,” Lloyd announces, brushing his hands as he steps back from the chalkboard that may or may not have been stolen. “At the top of the list we have Wi-Fi, central air and heating, beds — huh, maybe those should go higher — running water, electricity — that one’s debatable, me and Jay can tag-team it if we get desperate — blankets-slash-pillows-slash-etcetera, stuff to cook with, actual food — y’know what, I’m putting that closer to the top—”

“So basically, we have nothing,” Cole says blankly. 

Lloyd glances at the list, then to the sliver of chalk left in his hands. “Uh. Yeah.” 

“Take the weaponry, sure, but all my albums?” Jay mourns. “I spent years collecting those.” 

“I lost the blanket we stole from that super fancy apartment we lived in for like five minutes when Lloyd was a kid,” Kai sighs. “That thing literally made it through the apocalypse, just to bite it now.” 

“Two apocalypses too many,” Nya says.

“Did the Preeminent count as an apocalypse? Like, a minor one?”

“Three apocalypses. It took three apocalypses to vaporize my closet,” Cole sinks lower in his seat. “Man, the hoodie you got me for my birthday was in there.” 

“All of our photographs are lost, too.” Zane stares at his hands. 

Lloyd murmurs something under his breath that sounds a lot like family pictures and figures. 

The mood plummets a bit more, after that. 

“Motherfu—”

“Alright, this isn’t helping,” Cole claps his hands. “We can all cry again later. Lloyd, overall mission status conclusion?”

“Well, like you said, we basically have nothing,” Lloyd sighs. “So unless Zane wants to stop chickening out and abandon his morals so we can just hack into everything and get it free, we need to find some way to pay for all this.”

“Again, I cannot hack in to rebuilding an entire cooling unit throughout the monastery, much less make the latest clothing line from Gucci materialize,” Zane says. Kai swears. “Also, that is called stealing.” 

“You call it stealing, I call it a charitable donation,” Nya says. “I turned into the ocean for this city, the least they can do is cut me a check.” 

“Besides, even if it is stealing, what are they gonna do, send us to jail again?” Jay scoffs.

Lloyd jabs the piece of chalk in his direction. “Don’t jinx us.” 

“Too bad we wasted our chance at crime and didn’t even get rich,” Kai mutters. “All we got was Nya.”

He yelps as she punches him in the arm. “What, too soon?”

“You should be so lucky to have me,” she sniffs. 

“Hey, but going on the donation thought train — do we know anyone who’s rich?” Jay asks. “Why don’t we have any rich friends?”

“Hey, you know what’s rich? That coming from the son of a billionaire.”

“Hey, you know what else got blown up? My inheritance!” 

“Please, let it go,” Zane says. “We do have rich friends, I’ll remind you, we’re friends with actual monarchy. But we can’t exactly go and ask anyone else for money, since they all already helped out so much in getting the monastery rebuilt.”

There’s a moment of pensive silence. Lloyd draws a little sad face on the chalkboard next to ASK FOR DONATIONS. 

“What if we just…sued Harumi,” Cole says. “Like, there’s gotta be some law that could work in our favor here.”

“I don’t think the court would go for that,” Lloyd mutters. “Since they’re all morally corrupt frauds who hate us.”

“Yeah! Down with the system!” Kai punches his fist in the air. 

“Also, Harumi likely has very little in the way of money, either,” Zane says. “Considering she blew up any and all assets she might have had claim to.”

“Haha, what a loser,” Nya crows.

“What if we sued Garmadon?” Cole tries. “The courts have to hate him more than they hate us.”

Lloyd scowls, scrawling a large NO on the chalkboard. “Not worth the effort. Plus, I’m pretty sure he’s still couch-surfing at Vinny’s, which means also penniless.”

“We could sue Kalmaar,” Nya cracks her knuckles.

“Isn’t he dead?” 

“Oh, yeah.” Nya looks disappointed. 

“Did anyone survive that we can sue successfully?” Jay muses. “And actually get money out of?”

“Vangelis,” Cole snaps his fingers. “Wait. No, we ousted him from the throne, so he’s probably broke too.”

“Vangelis survived?”

As they dissolve into bickering over the status of enemies potentially living-or-dead, Kai squints at the chalkboard, where Lloyd is still scratching out letters despite having completely lost the room. 

“We…are…fu—Lloyd!” 

“Well it’s true,” Lloyd huffs, finishing off his message with a flourish. “Tada. There’s my grand plan.”

“That’s not a plan, it’s a pessimistic estimation at how things are gonna go.”

“It’s extremely rude language, is what it is! I thought we taught you better.”

Lloyd simply looks pleased with himself at having recaptured the room’s attention. It is, of course, then that Sensei Wu walks into that room. He stops, looking from where they’re all frozen in place, then to the chalkboard. 

Lloyd pales. 

Sensei Wu pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers and closes his eyes. 

“My dearest nephew, you have three seconds to make that disappear, or I’ll be forced to—”

Lloyd springs for the chalkboard in record time, wiping frantically at his writing with the sleeve of his gi. 

“People would kill for that thing, and here he’s using it as a chalkboard eraser,” Jay mutters. 

It isn’t until later, when they’ve all retreated to the collective mass of blow-up mattress and borrowed blankets they’re calling a bedroom, that anyone breaches the topic again. 

There’s a loud rustling as Cole turns over where he’s precariously shoved between Kai and Zane. 

“…can we sue the mayor?”

There’s a noted pause of silence, only broken by the whirring of the cheap oscillating fan. 

“You know,” Zane says slowly. “In terms of slander and defamation…” 

An evil, sharp-toothed smile spreads across Lloyd’s face. “I like the sound of that.”

“Hey, let’s sue the new ninja, too,” Jay grins. “Can Pixal retroactively trademark our vibe?”

“You cannot sue them based on vibe appropriation.”

“Yeah, but I can sue them for impersonation.”

---

They cannot, as it turns out, sue the mayor, because legal work like that costs even more money. 

They can, however, ruin his year by filing (and forging) every possible insurance claim under the sun, so they all walk out of the office a little more satisfied than before. 

“I hope all your socks go missing in the laundry!” Nya yells toward the building as they hit the streets. “I hope you have a rock stuck in your shoe for the rest of your life! I hope you’re plagued with a mildly inconvenient headache every waking moment and never fully enjoy anything ever again!”

“Alright, alright, we’re getting looks,” Cole grabs her arm. “Let it go.”

“As much as I appreciate it, I am not going back to jail,” Jay shudders. “Twice was enough.”

Kai frowns. “Twice? When else did you get arrested?”

“We all did, re—” Jay cuts off, suddenly aware of the absolute daggers Nya is staring at him. “Uhhh…aw, snap, another mental breakdown, haha!”

“Is this the whole ‘we all have missing memories you guys are definitely hiding from us’ thing again? ‘Cause I swear—”

“I said I’m getting to it, it’s a really boring story anyways—”

“Didn’t you say you lost an eye—”

“Oh look, a window!”

This time, Jay is thwarted by Lloyd, who’s simply jumped out enough windows to recognize when someone’s about to try it themselves. Except Jay is aiming to jump inside a window this time, so they both go crashing into Pixal just as she joins them. 

To her credit, she barely flinches. “I thought I heard clown noises nearby.” 

Lloyd stares at her in such utter betrayal, the mental breakdown thing might become valid.  

“Pixal,” Jay simply begs. “Please. Help your clowns scavenge our clown dinners.”

Pixel surveys them all, a fond smile tugging at her lips. “There is a nice pizza place down the block.”

The cheers she’s met with nearly succeeded at knocking her over where Jay failed.  

Dinner that night comprises of actual, warm, take-out pizza, which nearly moves Cole to tears.

“Definitely changing the priorities order,” Lloyd says blissfully through a mouthful of cheese. “Food goes at the top, no questions.”

“Seconded,” Kai mumbles. 

“Thirded.”

“Fourthed.”

“I cannot believe, that after everything we’ve been through, we did not qualify for the post-apocalypse discount,” Zane bites out. 

“Well,” Jay says brightly. “Pixal hacked the card reader, so technically we got a hundred percent discount.”

Zane stares at her, in equally utter betrayal. “Pixal?”

She shrugs. “They can try to send me to prison. They will fail.” 

---

Two days later, Skylor cements herself as everybody’s most favorite person in the entire world by not only saving them from starvation by demanding they sit their butts down in the restaurant and eat for free, but also donating six pillows and a year’s worth of shampoo. 

“I know it’s not a lot, but I’m on the lookout for more,” she tells them. “I’ve asked other people to help chip in, too, so hopefully that’ll make things a little easier.”

“Skylor,” Cole nearly sobs into his new, beautiful pillow. “If Kai doesn’t marry you, I will.”

“H-hey!”

“No marriage necessary,” she snorts. “Consider keeping you all fed my way of saying thanks.”

“But you already helped out with the monastery,” Nya says, around the same time the rest of them assure her there’s no need for thanks, despite the fact that no one has the slightest desire to relinquish their food. 

“Fine, then,” Skyler huffs, her cheeks turning pink. “Make me say it out loud, will you — consider it my way of showing that I care about you all. Very much.” 

“Aww,” Lloyd says. 

Kai makes a face somewhere between melting and heart eyes. 

“I hate all of you,” she mutters. 

“We love you too, Skylor,” Cole grins. 

“Hate you!”

Despite her words, they all leave with six boxes of leftovers and free dessert. 

This, of course, brings another slightly-pressing issue to mind.  

---

They end up getting a refrigerator for a steal of a bargain, which is probably again influenced by Pixal’s criminal extremely generous activity. 

Given how enthusiastic they all are about getting it installed, Kai is half-expecting there to be no work left for him at all by the time he returns from the food run. 

He’s…not entirely disappointed when he walks into the kitchen, though he is rather baffled. 

The room freezes as if on record-scratch. Jay is perched on top of the counters, Lloyd has a sledgehammer raised halfway in the air, and Cole is on the ground beside the refrigerator crying. 

“What?” Kai asks, blankly. 

“The fridge…doesn’t fit…” Cole moans into the floor. 

“We didn’t leave enough space between the cabinets,” Jay informs him through a mouthful of gummy worms. “So the door can’t open.”

Kai looks at Lloyd. “So the sledgehammer is for…?”

“DIY home improvement,” he shrugs.

“Huh.” Kai glances at the cabinets. “Put some safety goggles on first, okay?”

Lloyd only gets about two swings in before Zane descends with the all wrath of the Ice Emperor and adds to the tally of times-the- Green-Ninja-almost-met-his-doom, but it’s fun while it lasts. 

They were ugly cabinets, anyways. 

---

While his love for his family could potentially fuel a nuclear power plant, Kai does grow tired of being the living team space heater rather quickly. 

The effort of keeping his power going all night just gets annoying (and exhausting) — so by the time he’s tagged in Lloyd to use his power to keep him going, they’re up to two moody ninja short on sleep, and no one wants to deal with that. 

While they’ve scrounged up a few dollar-store quality blankets, Jay takes the opportunity to highlight his accomplishments in arts-and-crafts.

“You mean your mom’s accomplishments.”

“Hey, we made it together! It counts.”

The it in question quickly gains the name “god-awful-t-shirt-blanket” simply because the blinding combination of all their cast-off shirts sewn together is impressively terrible. 

“I still think this is a waste of good clothes,” Kai grumbles. “It’s not like we have outfits to spare these days, you know.”

“Do you wanna keep heating the room at night or no?” Nya threatens. 

Kai quickly shuts his mouth and returns to sewing Cole’s old plaid shirt to one of Jay’s neon blue shirts that features a dolphin printed in enough colors to kill a man. 

“So, what do we think?” Lloyd steps back, wiping at his forehead with his arm as he surveys their masterpiece. 

Staring at the multi-colored mess they’ve patched together into a quilt, Nya announces, “It’s the ugliest blanket I’ve ever seen.”

“Harsh.”

“Hey, we did our best!”

“See if I ever sew for you again,” Lloyd huffs. 

“I didn’t say that was a bad thing,” Nya quickly interjects. “It looks a little like us!”

“Are you saying we’re ugly?!”

“Nya, no, our family genes are enough to carry us through this, I promise—”

---

They’re in the middle of figuring out how to steal Wi-Fi from the government when Tox drops by, Karloff in tow. 

“You really…need…to get an elevator…or something,” she pants, red-faced and sweaty as she hauls several large bags behind her.

In contrast, Karloff looks unfazed, casually toting a hideously floral-patterned sofa over his shoulder. 

“Skylor mentioned you need furniture, no?” he says. “It’s not much, but you need somewhere to sit.”

“Karloff,” Jay tells him, very seriously. “This is the most beautiful sofa I’ve ever seen.” 

“Haha! Karloff is right once again,” he brags to Tox. 

Tox stares at Jay in flabbergasted despair. 

“You can’t put that in your home,” she mutters. “You can’t. It’s a crime against eyes everywhere.”

“Well, it’s better than no sofa, and we’re literally turning down nothing these days,” Nya says cheerfully. She leans over to peer at the bags Tox has managed to drag up. “Speaking of…?”

“Oh, yeah.” Tox heaves the bags in front of her. “Skylor said you guys needed help interior decorating? So I brought a couple rugs. She also mentioned something about the ugliest blanket she’s ever seen, so we called up some of the other Elemental Masters and got like, six or seven together. They’re not exactly works of art, but they’re okay?”

Kai tears open the first bag, his eyes lighting up. “They’re beautiful,” he whispers reverently. “Hey, guys, we got blankets! Dibs on the one with a wolf.”

“Oh, no, not that one, it’s from my awful middle school phase—”

“What do you mean, dibs, I want the wolf one!”

“Oh yeah? Down to fight for it?”

“You’re on. Training ground in five.”

“Absolutely not, we are not fighting over a blanket we’ve been so generously gifted,” Zane snaps, snagging Kai and Cole by their collars. 

“Yeah, we also don’t really have a training ground anymore,” Lloyd says, half-buried in a blanket embroidered with countless bug-eyed fish. “It went ka-boom.”

Nya rubs her temples. “Zane?”

“Already factored into the expenses,” he sighs. 

“Oh wow, you guys weren’t kidding,” Tox says. “Do you want, uh, like a keychain? I have some mints here too I can donate…man, Karloff, help me out!” 

“Does the monastery need a metal helmet?”

“We’re really not that broke,” Nya says hastily, pushing away the offered mints. “But thanks.”

“Speak for yourself.” Lloyd snags the mints, clasping his hands together in prayer at Tox before slipping back into the emerging blanket battle. 

Nya sighs. “Do you guys want tea? We’ve got three whole mugs, now.”

Tox glances from the other ninja, where Jay has been successfully rolled into a blanket burrito and is in potential danger of being rolled right down the mountain, to Karloff, who’s the reason said danger is potential. 

“We can spare a minute, I guess.”

The t-shirt blanket is later relegated to the living room, where it lives as a throw blanket over Karloff’s floral sofa. They unanimously decide it’s the perfect home for it, and the only real critic is Skylor, who’s almost reduced to tears the next time she visits. 

---

They celebrate their achievement of having a living room by all eating dinner on Karloff’s floral-patterned couch. This comes with a good deal of kicking and squirming and the tragic loss of Kai’s fortune cookie, but they make it work. 

“This is kind of depressing, though. Sitting in the dark,” Nya remarks. 

A muscle in Jay’s jaw twitches. “Well, maybe if someone hadn’t melted all our candles—”

“You were the one who had the brilliant idea of trying to barbecue with them, genius!” Kai snaps. 

“It was a pretty spectacular fire,” Lloyd admits. Then, hastily, “In a really cool way!” 

“Perhaps a lamp should go next on the list,” Zane says. “Rather than relying on Kai as our light.”

“Hey, I’m a great light,” Kai scowls. “I’m the light of your life. I could light this place up all day!” 

“Yes, and I’m sure it would end similarly to the time you nearly burned down a building under the belief that you were achieving your true potential, but were, in fact, just dehydrated.”

Kai gapes at Zane in betrayal. “You said you’d take that to the grave!” 

Zane carefully laces his fingers together. “Technically, I did.”

“No you didn’t!” Jay interjects. “We never buried you, so you never had a grave! Ha!”

Zane looks affronted. “I didn’t get a grave?”

“You got a statue!” Kai quickly consoles . 

“Yeah, what’d you want us to do, pick your exploded pieces out of the street for half a year then toss ‘em in the ground?”

“Oh, as if that’s any worse than being left to pour your corpse out in cups of water.”

 “It wasn’t my corpse, I was still alive!”

“You were the literal ocean. Fish swam in you.” 

“Ew, does that mean—”

“Finish that sentence and I will drown you where you stand—”

“You’re all in desperate need of counseling,” Pixal mutters. 

“Tell me about it,” Lloyd says, leaning back on the armrest of the sofa. 

Cole shakes his head. “Lost causes, all of them.”

Pixal stares at them both, expression pinched, before deciding to respect the hopelessness of lost causes. 

“Hold on, I think Kai’s crying,” Lloyd moves to sit up, only to wobble, slip sideways, and go crashing to the floor gracelessly.  

“Just like when I fell to my doom off the Bounty,” Cole reminisces.  

 Pixal’s eyes glaze over. 

---

Later that evening, Pixal adds “therapy” to the list of potential expenses on the fridge door. Regretfully, it loses miserably in the debate against hot shower expenses, so it too joins the pile of repressed memories that will undoubtedly haunt them in the future. 

“But hey, a hot shower can cure depression on a good day,” Cole says, and that settles that. 

---

Hot showers, as it turns out, are a hard-won priority. 

It’s less so after Jay, Nya, and Pixal camp out overnight near the pipeline and perform their own less-than-legal maintenance, but one of Zane’s carefully filed insurance claims actually went through the other day, so they’re taking their luck as they can. 

It’s not until they get working on the bathroom itself that the true difficulty makes itself clear. 

“Hey, uh,” Kai stares down at the patch of rotted floor he’s ripped up, wiping at the fog that’s spread across his safety goggles. “Is the base layer supposed to look like that?”

“Look like what?” Cole abandons the tiling he’s been placing to glance over. His face drops. “Uh-oh.” 

“Is that all black mold?” Nya gags, nearly dropping her bottle of cleaning bleach.  

“FSM, no wonder we’re all crazy,” Cole mutters. 

“Alright,” Kai strips off his rubber gloves. “Nothing for it. Back up, guys, I’m barbecuing this baby.”

“Wait wait wait don’t—”

Ten minutes and a good deal of hacking and wheezing through teary eyes later, Cole murders Kai while they all look on. 

Well, he attempts to.

“You filled the monastery with chlorine gas, you absolute moron—!”

“How was I supposed to know that would happen, I’m not a chemist—”

Nya glares ahead darkly as Lloyd gingerly treats the reddened blisters on her hands. 

“None of you,” Zane says, through gritted teeth. “Are touching cleaning chemicals for a year.” 

---

“Not sure I wanna know how you pulled off poisoning yourselves, but I’m kinda impressed you did a better job of it than most criminals would,” Ronin tells them, once the monastery has been successfully de-chlorinated and the bathroom tiles firmly put in place, sans black mold. 

“Maybe we can hire ourselves out to them when we’re strapped for cash,” Nya sighs.

“We’re literally always strapped for cash. We’re broke.”

Ronin laughs, clapping Jay on the back. “Welcome to adulthood, kid.”

“I don’t think normal adulthood gets their home blown up on a regular basis,” Lloyd hisses.

“Fair point,” Ronin nods. 

“Well, thanks for saving us all from a slow and painful death,” Cole scrubs his hands over his face. “We can pay you back sometime in the next century. Maybe.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” Ronin waves them off. “It’d be like kicking a dog when it’s down, askin’ you all to pay. Besides, I probably owe you one.”

“You sure do,” Jay glares. 

“Hey, hey, I said I was sorry for the whole human sacrifice thing,” Ronin placates. “Want some good news, at least?”

“Is it actually good news?” Lloyd eyes him shrewdly.

“Lighten up, captain trust issues.” Kai barely snags Lloyd before he lands himself back in jail. “I looked into some more of those insurance claims you filed, and you actually got somethin’ out of it. I, uh, helped the bank along a bit, with the refund.”

“Bank?” Cole whispers.

“Refund?” Jay’s eyes shine. 

“Yeah, got you all your checks right here,” Ronin says, tugging six neat envelopes from his jacket. “Just don’t blow ‘em all at once, okay? Haha.”

Zane looks as if he might propose to him on the spot. 

“Hey, this isn’t too bad!” Kai exclaims. “We got money!”

“Guys,” Lloyd says, staring at his check. “You know we should probably pool all this together and spend it on necessities, right?”

“Yeah,” Cole sighs. 

“It would be the smartest course of action,” Zane adds. 

There’s a noted silence.

“Or,” Lloyd says. 

---

In their defense, they spend exactly two-thirds of their checks on household items. 

Whether or not these are needed household items remains a debate. 

“If we’re all buying lamps for the living room, can we at least attempt to match?” Zane sighs. 

“Booo, where’s your joy and whimsy?” Jay sticks out his tongue. 

“That isn’t even a lamp, it’s a light-up axolotl.”

“The heck’s an axo-lot—”

“It lights up, doesn’t it? Ergo, it’s a lamp.”

“Ergo, what are you, Sensei Wu—”

“We’re never having guests over again,” Cole remarks, as Lloyd and Nya maneuver a five-foot-tall rendition of Godzilla into the shopping cart that may or may not light up. 

“The monastery’s gonna look rad as heck, we’re forcing everyone to come over and look at it,” Kai corrects as he tosses a set of flame-patterned curtains into the mess. 

“Absolutely not.” 

“I actually might like them,” Zane muses. “They would capture the energy of our kitchen perfectly.”

Kai beams. “Flame curtains are a go!” 

In the aftermath, they total around six individual blankets, five mismatching lamps and one light-up axolotl, a table that no one knows how to put together, one set of flame-patterned curtains, another hideous couch, and enough cutlery and kitchenware that no one has to eat out of Sensei Wu’s incense bowls anymore. 

“Alright,” Lloyd says. “We’ve got three hours until the stores start closing. Everyone take the rest of your checks, don’t think about how much of a disaster the monastery still is, and start thinking about how valid retail therapy is.” 

“Aye-aye,” Kai salutes, before immediately booking it for the clothing outlets. 

---

Three hours later, Kai’s happily blown his entire check on a new wardrobe and exactly one pair of name-brand brand shoes. He’s unreasonably proud of himself for his restraint, until he catches Cole with three pairs of his own name-brand shoes, and immediately regrets being responsible. 

He spots Jay going off in the N-Pop section of a music store, Nya investing in a sinfully-priced espresso machine, and Zane walking toward the clothing outlets himself with a high-quality pair of noise-cancelling headphones. 

He doesn’t find Lloyd until well after he’s picked up his own clothes, already sporting an oversized hoodie he could’ve just stolen from Kai. 

He’s more concerned when Lloyd proceeds to blow the last of his check at the sporting goods section of the local convenience store. Considering how long Lloyd spent looking wistfully at the candy aisle, Kai is baffled by the decision. 

He’s even more baffled when Lloyd proceeds to box up his purchase for delivery instead of keeping it himself.

He’s utterly horrified when he sees who it’s addressed to.

“Are you serious?!” he asks shrilly, torn between ripping the box from Lloyd’s hands or immediately calling the mental health hotline. “You’re sending her gifts?”

“It’s not a gift, it’s — look, it’s a long story, you wouldn’t get it,” Lloyd grumbles, plastering another layer of duct tape over the box. “Just help me deliver it to Kryptarium and I’ll show you, okay?”

Kai very much does not help, because he’s not an enabler and he cares about his brother’s mental health, but he does follow Lloyd to Kryptarium Prison and lurk behind him as he eagerly watches the surveillance screens. 

Harumi stares at the box before her, looking every bit as baffled as Kai is. 

“Who would send me a volleyball—”

She freezes, her face going utterly blank. A muscle in her jaw twitches. 

There’s a brief flash of what could be amusement, a brief expression as if she’s eaten something sour, then a fury like no other eclipses her face. 

“LLOYD! I’LL KILL YOU MYSELF, YOU THINK YOU’RE HILARIOUS—”

Lloyd’s still laughing by the time they’re escorted from the premises, hard enough that Kai has to catch him when he trips at the top of the steps. 

“What’d you even write on the note?” Kai finally asks, a bit in awe. 

Lloyd grins. “I told her good luck getting together her villainous volleyball team in jail.”

Kai blinks. “Do I…want to know?”

“Nope!” Lloyd says airily. “But I’ve made my point.”

---

Regardless of some behaviors, the mental health hotline remains a constant idea. It simply happens to come up at inconvenient times, such as when Cole drops a dresser on his foot halfway across the courtyard. 

He swears so loudly the whole monastery echoes with it. 

“Oh geez, Cole, are you okay? Why’d you lift the whole thing on your own?”

“We could have helped,” Zane rushes over. “You don’t have to do it all yourself—”

“Yes I do!” Cole yells. “I’m stronger than that, I’m supposed to be stronger, I have to be stronger or you’re all going to die next time—”

He cuts off abruptly. Zane looks heartbroken. Jay—

Is suddenly busy smacking Cole upside the head. 

“No, you don’t!” he snaps back, even louder. “You don’t have to do it by yourself! None of you do! Every time anyone tries to do something by themselves it all goes wrong and we lose someone, so we’re never — doing that — again!” 

He seizes Cole around the arms, his wild eyes meeting Cole’s wide ones. “No one blames you for the stupid tunnel. I don’t care how strong you are. We’re all here and that’s what matters, so don’t you dare put that at risk.”

“But I—”

“No.”

“Jay, I—”

“No.”

“I—”

“No!” A manic expression overtakes Jay’s face. “No, no, no! No one’s taking the blame. No one’s isolating themselves. No. One. Is. Going. Off. Alone. You hear me?!” 

The others are frozen, halfway outstretched hands caught as if suspended in ice. Kai’s expression is twisted painfully. Lloyd’s eyes are on the ground. Zane is as frozen as the metaphorical ice, and Nya looks devastated. 

“No more being alone,” Jay says, the fire in his voice giving way to something wetter and considerably more sniffly. “No more. Don’t — you can’t—”

“Okay,” Cole whispers. He carefully takes Jay’s hands from his shoulders, grasping them in his own instead. “Okay. No more going at it alone. I promise.”  

 The monastery courtyard seems a little colder, in the silence.  

“Anyone feel like circling back to the whole ‘suing Harumi’ idea?” Kai finally speaks up. 

Jay gives a wet snort. 

“Well, we’re probably gonna need to afford tissues,” Lloyd says. His own voice isn’t exactly dry, either. 

---

The downside to sticking therapy smack at the bottom of their priorities is that they all really are, in fact, not okay. 

Most of the time, they manage. 

There’s a solace in being together, a comfort in having the people you trust and care for most in the world right next to you when the nightmares get bad. When Jay awakens screaming for Nya or clutching at his throat for air, Nya is already holding his hand and Cole’s holding the rest of him.

When Zane lapses into silence too long, emotions a roiling mess that leave him paralyzed, Kai is there with one-two-three’s for breathing and Lloyd is there to draw little cats with him until the world subsides again. 

When Cole’s eyes shadow in training and his hits grow wild, Zane is there to pin him before he bloodies his hands and Jay is there to sing horrible off-key songs he loves until the panic ebbs.

When Nya stares at the water too-long, her eyes misty and her expression dreamy, Jay is there to hold her tight and Kai is there to talk until his voice goes hoarse and hers returns. 

There are other times, though, when it’s harder. 

It hits Kai this time about halfway through painting the walls of the kitchen a cheerful yellow, said paint splattered up to his elbows, courtesy of Lloyd. He glances down — to joke, to laugh, to not think—

And pauses. With the headband he’s stolen from Pixal in place, pushing back the mass of thick blond hair, Kai can just see the purple-red edges of the swollen, irritated wounds that scar Lloyd’s scalp. The twin marks are a better sight than when Kai first glimpsed them, bleeding circles that looked as if someone had drilled into Lloyd’s skull — but not by much. 

“S’fine,” Lloyd mutters, catching Kai’s devastated expression. “I can’t even feel ‘em. Not really.”

“Liar,” Kai rasps. “They look awful.”

Lloyd makes a face. “Gee, thanks a lot.”

“I mean it. What if they get infected, or worse, or — have you had Sensei look at them?”

Lloyd wraps his arms around himself, avoiding Kai’s eyes. “No. I didn’t really…I did what he asked. What they both did. And then screwed the whole thing up, so it was all useless anyways, so I—”

He bites his lip, hard enough to crack the already dry skin. 

“I don’t really wanna hear anyone telling me what else I’m doing wrong with myself, right now.” 

Kai is angry enough to feel sick. 

“That’s stupid. That’s so stupid, he should — it shouldn’t be like that, it’s — why didn’t anyone—” he shakes his head. “Why doesn’t anyone ever ask us if we wanna be — if we wanna—”

Lloyd’s hand closes around his wrist, gently tugging Kai’s own hand from where it’s clawed unconsciously at his arm, leaving ugly red stripes against his skin. 

“You asked,” he says, quietly. “That meant a lot.”

Kai looks away. “Lot of good it did.”

Lloyd’s grip tightens. “It meant the world to me,” he repeats, stronger this time. 

“But I couldn’t—!”

Lloyd abandons his hold on his wrist to wrap his arms around Kai entirely, holding tight. Bony and strong and familiar, Kai’s little brother to the core. 

“Thank you,” he says, fervently enough that Kai can feel the ache in his voice. “Thank you for looking out for me.”

Kai’s voice is a miserable mess of fought-back tears. “I couldn’t even do anything.” 

“You asked me what I wanted,” Lloyd says once again, and Kai can hear the edge of tears threatening his voice, now. “That was everything.” 

Giving in, Kai drops his head into the mess of blond curls and hugs Lloyd back. Lloyd’s hair smells like blood and paint and steel and the strawberry shampoo Skylor gave them, and now it’s gonna smell like Kai’s stupid snot and tears. 

“Hey, having another hug party without me is lame.” 

Kai gives a wet, broken response as Nya throws her arms around them both. 

“Idiots,” she murmurs, resting her head atop theirs. “I love you both, you know that?”

“Ew, gross,” Lloyd snorts wetly. “Hey Kai, Nya loves us.”

“Little jerk, who you callin’ gross? And here I thought you loved us too.” 

“Well obviously I love you guys back, who’s the idiot now—”

Kai simply clutches them both and cries harder, as if holding onto them will stop himself from falling apart.

It works, in the ways that matter, though it’s always because they’re holding back even tighter. 

Later that evening, Zane bathes Lloyd’s head in antiseptic and Jay forces them all to sit through the PowerPoint presentation he’s made with Nya titled “Every Super Cool Totally Good Character with Horns Ranked”. He loses them the minute he brings anime characters into it, as everyone suddenly develops incredibly passionate opinions about the rankees, but Lloyd’s laughing too hard to have his own opinion and Kai doesn’t feel like he’s drowning under inadequacy anymore — just choking to death under the weight of Jay’s elbow for daring to insult Re:Zero as an anime “since it actually has Oni in it, idiot, your opinion is trash—” 

They get things back to being okay, one way or another. 

---

Somewhere in the third month of renovations, they finally scrounge up six whole beds. It takes a good deal of dragging and cursing, but they finally manage to move into their own rooms, the once-empty spaces looking a little less lonely. 

“Now we don’t have to all sleep together in the same room anymore,” Jay announces. There’s no small amount of celebration at that.

The celebration lasts up until sometime around three in the morning, at which point the  consistent nightmares land them all right back in the pile of communal air mattresses. 

“Just for like, one more night,” Kai yawns, as Lloyd curls closer beneath his arm. 

“Totally, yeah,” Nya echoes, one leg spread across Jay, her arm sprawled over Kai. 

“Go to sleep already, FSM’ sake,” Cole begs, before slumping over Zane. 

For all Cole’s begging, he’s still the first to act when Zane suddenly lurches up from the bed, gasping for air like he’s drowning and giving them all joint heart attacks. 

“—hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s just us—”

Cole’s hands hover, non-threatening, as Zane buries his face in his palms, breathing ragged. The others have begun to get up now as well, the slow kind of approach that lets Zane know exactly where each of them are. 

“I despise this,” Zane spits, as his hand drags down to fist over his chest. “I hate feeling like this. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it—”

“I know,” Cole says. “I know.”

“This is why — it’s so much easier—“

“It’s okay, it’s—”

“It is not! I do not need to breathe, and yet I can’t!” Zane bursts out, frustrated and frightened. “I’m not supposed to break down like this, I do not, I do not—”

“You’re not a machine,” Cole says steadily. “You get to break down.” 

“But if I—”

“You don’t,” Lloyd murmurs. “You don’t have to turn ‘em off, Zane. You’re one of the strongest people I know.” 

Zane’s head lowers, his eyes shadowed. “It wouldn’t hurt,” he says, but it’s reluctant. 

“Yeah, you’d never hurt, but you’d never be happy, either,” Kai says. “And that’d suck.”

“It’d suck for us, too,” Cole speaks up. “We’d have to live without your laugh. Without your sassy remarks. Without your kindness.”

“We’d live without you,” Lloyd says, quietly. “And you wouldn’t really be living, would you?”

Zane crumples, his shoulders shaking as he allows Kai to pull him close. 

“If it gets too much, just come to us,” Jay says. “We’ll be more, okay? We’re pretty good at that.”

Zane gives a wet, stifled laugh. 

“Don’t go, even if it’s just your emotions leaving,” Nya murmurs, her head against his. “It isn’t worth it.”

With slowing shudders, Zane lets himself relax, the warmth of their little family pressing around him. Kai is an immovable barrier at his side, save for where Lloyd’s tucked beneath his arm. Jay’s legs tangle with Lloyd and Cole’s, his hand held tightly in Nya’s.  

“Leaving isn’t worth it,” Nya echoes. “Not in any lifetime.”

---

Bit by bit, the monastery comes together. 

The smell of new paint gives way to a familiar scent of mixing elements and laundry soap, one that’s followed them since the first Bounty. They comb through every online shop until they find the exact brand of sheets that feel like the first apartment they ever lived in together. Thrift shops and sales and birthdays stock closets once again, new hoodies that are quickly stolen and passed back and forth. The collection of CD’s and movies rebuilds into stacks once again through shared movie nights and pirated music.

And little by little, with the consistent passage of time, photographs line the walls of the monastery once again.

 A little older, a little worn, but a collection of family all the same. 

---

“Except we still don’t have damn central heating—” 

“Suck it up and light the fireplace, hothead.” 

“No respect in this city. None at all.” 

[woso-dreamzzz]

Breakfast IV

Ellie Carpenter x Daniëlle van de Donk x Child!Reader

Summary: The trip to the Maldives

"You can smile, you know," Mamma says," It won't hurt."

You don't give her the satisfaction, shovelling more food into your mouth.

"Oh? Giving me the silent treatment but now smile? Come on. Smile." Mamma pokes at your cheeks until the corners of your mouth lift up begrudgingly. "There's my beautiful girl. What's got you so grumpy?"

"It's hot," You complain.

Mamma laughs. "Well, maybe you would be less hot if you didn't insist on sleeping with me and Ellie last night."

"Should have kicked Ellie out. You've had me longer," You mutter but Mamma keeps laughing and presses a soft kiss to your hairline. You look behind you. "Is Ellie up yet? I'm bored."

"I thought you were hot."

"Mamma! I can be both!"

"Ellie's still sleeping," Mamma says," How about we head out and grab some ice cream if you're so hot?"

You look at Mamma suspiciously for a moment but then run to get your shoes before she changes her mind.

It's Christmas break and you're in the Maldives with Mamma and Ellie. You don't really like it much. It's too hot and the ocean makes your hair go all weird and Ellie's being extra annoying.

You made your truce in France so you don't really think it applies here.

Ellie's being extra annoying because of the heat, you think, because she threw you in the sea yesterday when you weren't ready all because you ate some of the snacks from Australia she'd brought with her.

You thought that was kind of mean because Ellie's an adult and you're only little and Mamma always says sharing is caring. Ellie should have acted like an adult and not thrown you in the sea.

You're good at swimming though so it didn't matter and you kicked her in the shin when you got back to shore and Mamma didn't even tell you off for it.

You get ice cream with Mamma and immediately beeline to her bedroom as soon as you're back.

"Ew! Why are your fingers sticky?!" Ellie demands as she wakes up.

You shovel more ice cream into your mouth, wiping off your hands against her arm.

"You got ice cream without me? Daan, how could you?!"

You knew she's joking around now and you've sufficiently annoyed her for today so you skip back to the lounge to watch some tv.

You know that Mamma and Ellie are kissing and being gross because you can hear them giggling and you know that's what they do when they kiss because you walked in on them once.

"Mamma! Ellie's being mean again!" You exclaim when they finally come back in and Ellie gives you a noogie on your head.

"Ellie! Leave her alone!"

"Daan! Your pipsqueak is trying to bite me again!"

"Y/N! Be nice!"

You stick your tongue out but keep your teeth to yourself as Ellie laces up her shoes and throws your own at you.

There's something about you that Ellie can admit that she'll never get. You're slightly feral at times. It shouldn't be endearing but it is and Ellie hopes that never changes even as you try to shove her off the boardwalk and into the ocean.

You're pushing with all your miniscule might but Ellie's refusing to budge. In an impressive show of strength, she picks you up and throws you over her shoulder as she walks to the oceanside bar that's nearby.

"If you're going to give me alcohol, Mamma will be mad," You say as she comes back from ordering drinks, having dropped you off at an empty table.

"I'm not giving you alcohol," Ellie says, dipping her hand into her purse a bit nervously.

"Unless it's in ice cream," You reply," Mamma lets me have ice cream that's got champagne in it when we go to the theatre. Can we get ice cream?"

"You've already had ice cream today, pipsqueak," Ellie reminds you, rolling something around her fingers.

"But you wanted ice cream earlier. I won't tell Mamma if you let me have some."

Ellie rolls her eyes fondly at you before suddenly turning serious.

You notice the switch instantly and it's like you immediately put your walls back up. You go stiff and rigid and look at her as suspiciously as the first time she slept around. One of her hands comes up to take yours but you pull away.

"Pipsqueak," She says gently," It's okay."

You shake your head. "Is something bad happening?" You ask, eyes darting around," Ellie, you're being weird. Stop it."

It's clear that you're panicking now but still rooted to your seat. You look like you're going to bolt at any moment and Ellie doesn't know if she has the wherewithal to catch you before you disappear.

It's now or never.

She slides you what she had hidden in one of her hands.

You stop breathing and suddenly it's Ellie's turn to panic now.

"I..." You say, staring down at what is now cradled in your palm," I...I don't understand."

"I want to marry your Mamma," Ellie says to you. She reaches out for you again.

You let her.

"I don't want to be temporary in your or her lives. I really want to marry your Mamma."

You pop open the box to look at the ring.

"And I know we have a truce but I don't think it covers this. So, I need to ask. Are you okay with this? Is this alright with you?"

You're still not looking at her. "But...But why? I'm mean to you all the time. I get you all sticky with ice cream and I know you don't like walking to school with me when we can just drive. Why are you staying?"

"I love your Mamma, pipsqueak," Ellie says," Can I tell you a secret?"

She moves to sit on your side of the table, gently bringing you closer in case any sudden move will startle you.

"I love you too."

Your eyes starting stinging with tears.

"And I promise that I don't actually care if you put your sticky ice cream hands on my skin or make me walk half an hour in the rain when the car journey is basically ten minutes. I want all of that with you and your Mamma but only if you want that too."

You look up at Ellie and clamber onto her lap, curling up so you can press your ear against her chest and listen to the beating of her heart.

When you come back to the villa, Daan knows that you're acting weird. You're a little jumpy and you can't seem to make eye contact.

Ellie's no help, telling her nothing of what you've done to waste almost three hours together. She just shrugs and shepherds you into their room for your usual afternoon nap.

"You know how she is," Ellie says after getting you settled," The heat's getting to her a bit." She offers up no other explanation but that one before heading out again.

Daan's left to stew in her own worries for a few hours before familiar feet draw her attention.

"Did you have a good nap?"

She cranes her head back to look at you, brow furrowing as she does so.

You've changed out of what you were wearing earlier, with your shoes already on and holding hers in your hand.

"Have we got plans?" She teases when you force her into her shoes and drag her out the door.

You don't answer, holding your Mamma's hand tightly. You pull her along the walkway to the beach, weaving through the sparse trees to where Ellie's waiting for you both.

"What are you two troublemakers doing?" Daan asks," Wearing the same clothes now? What have you planned?"

You drop her hand to stand next to Ellie, who leans down to whisper something in your ear. You giggle before going to grab something out of Ellie's bag.

Ellie smiles.

She steps closer.

She gets on one knee.

Daan says yes before she even asks.

You throw confetti into the air.

[noellefan101]

Not Replaceable

Characters: Alhaitham x GN reader

ft Kaveh and a weighted blanket(bc you can't tell me alhaitham wouldn't sleep with it, and that hes not autistic).

Warnings: not proofread, and definitley ooc but whatever

Note: this is heavily inspired by a fic i saw some months ago, but i cant remember their username and its kinda sad :(

he's been staring at your back for 30 minutes now, you seriously promised it would be dry tomorrow, its the best you can do.

"Haitham.. do you need anything?".

"you already know what i need…".

you looked at the man, and you sweared he looked like a kicked puppy, all because you had to wash his blanket today. you feel sorry for him, but it had to be done.

"yes, i do. but you can't sleep with a," you tried once again to convince him "a big wet piece of cloth" to just try and sleep without it.

"you could also just take multible blankets and stack them, or try to be a normal person like the rest of us" ah, Kaveh walked in, probably to get another cup of coffee, and to annoy Haitham as usual.

"not the same" Alhaitham said almost immediately after Kaveh had spoke, "it doesn't weigh enough, all the ones we have are too light for me to do that" you guess he's right, since it isn't the best to have too many layers of warmth in sumeru's heat.

you and alhaitham dont have that many blankets combined anyway, unless Kaveh woul- "alright! whatever, just dont take all mine like you did last time!" guess he already said no to that option then.

"i didn't take all of yours, just a few, you still had one left" i mean, he is kind of right, as much as you didnt want to agree with that at the moment.

"uggghhh… im going now, solve that yourselves" Kaveh spoke, walking out of the room with a new coffee mug in hand.

"love, are you sure you dont want to just try with the multible blankets?" you wanted to try just one more time, even though you were sure it wasnt going to actually convince him.

"yes" alright, then you dont have any other ideas. so you tried to brainstorm some more, though none would fix the actual problem at hand.

"i could make you some tea? or you could jsut read until you feel tired?" you wanted to help him so bad, but nothing just seemed like it would work. since yours was way too light, and you cant really go out and buy another on eofr him right now.

and his still shouldn't be dry enough to use. "no" he said as you gave out a sigh, you wanted so badly to give up on trying to find a replacement. but you still couldn't let yourself do it, you still wanted to help him actually sleep today.

"are you… sure nothing can work as a replacement, even just for today?" you're sure you looked so defeated at the moment, but it didn't matter now.

"…" silence huh? maybe he's thinking about it, or maybe he gave up as well. you cant really tell, and you're too tired to try understand what's behind those pretty eyes right now.

so you guess you should just-"lay on me" did you hear that right?? "what?" you cant do anything but question him. too focused on figuring what he was trying to do, or if you heard the wrong thing.

"i know you heard me, lay on me" so you weren't just hearing his words incorrectly, "but why would that help?".

"you weigh about enough to work as a weighted blanket" you looked at him surprised, "…excuse me?" you cant help but feel a little annoyed at him. although you knew what he meant know.

"i didn't mean it like that, i swear" he quickly spoke back. coming closer to you, looking worried that he had used the wrong words.

"its okay, im messing with you. i know you wouldn't actually mean it like that" you smiled smugly, letting out a little whimper as he picked you up without warning.

you looked up at him, confused, "i-i," you stuttered out yet couldnt finish the sentence before you felt him pull you in closer to him. "i can walk on my own you know!" it wasnt quite what you had wanted to say, but it would do.

he just looked at you and shrugged then put you gently down on the bed, and then he was laying beside you the moment it had come to you that he put you down.

you both looked right at each other once again, now face to face, in a silence you couldnt quite say was nice but it wasnt unpleasant either. well before he spoke up anyway, "are you going to move or do i have to?".

"huh?" you had already forgot why you were back in your bedroom by now, too focused on his eyes to care at the moment. "okay, i'll lift you up then" oh right, that it why you're here.

"sorry, w-wait atleast give me a warning first!" you wimpered out quickly as he took you up by your torso and put you down onto his chest. "i did give you a warning." you pouted at that.

"not a good enough warning, smartass" you clearly tried to sound stern, as if it mattered at all. but by the way your lips curled up and you just cuddled in closer to him, you clearly didnt mind.

it had been about 10 minutes by now, and you were fast asleep, although alhaitham wasnt quite yet. he was tired, yes, but maybe he had focused too much on you being right there than actually sleeping.

he wasnt complaining, dont get me wrong, but maybe it wasnt the smartest to have you on him when he wasnt suposed to focus on you. you just looked so pretty all curled up on his chest while still trying to cover him up as much as you could, even in your dreams.

he will fall asleep soon, just let him enjoy your sleeping form a little longer.

and yes, he should get a second weighted blanket, but he won't. because he now hopes gets to enjoy a moment like this every time the blanket has to be washed.

thx for reading, this is a very weird whatever but im trying to cook something up i just cant cook rn-Masterlist

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts

[idlerin]

NONSENSE

an oikawa tooru social media au

pairing. celebrity!oikawa tooru x f!reader

synopsis. you were oikawa tooru’s #1 fan, until you became his #1 hater. you hated him so much you went viral on twitter (accidentally) and literally became known as “the oikawa tooru hater”, doesn’t help that he keeps fueling the fire by subtweeting you. everyone is all in for this new drama. what isn’t known to the public, is that this particular drama’s been on hold for three years (him being your ex and all).

tags. social media au, celebrity smau, college au, exes to lovers, second chance romance, idiots in love, crack, humor (hopefully), fluff, and perhaps a little angst? ehe (groveling !!)

warnings. time stamps dont really matter unless i say so, cursing, some drinking alcohol n stuff and sometimes suggestive but nothing graphic

status. completed (01/15/23 - 02/11/24)

— playlist.

teasers

teaser 1 — teaser 1.5 — teaser 2

profiles

[name]’s pe(s)ts | in need of medical attention

episodes !

(⚘) — has narrative parts

ACT I

01. rid me of my despair

02. murder is ethically wrong

03. he’s literally everywhere

04. i’m NOT petty (⚘)

05. i think i’ve seen this film before

06. he’s back !

07. baby girl of all baby girls

08. the famous friend

09. forget me not

10. why are you running!? (⚘)

ACT II

11. blast from the past

12. i despise you (⚘)

13. villains are hot (⚘)

14. adulting and other important stuff (⚘)

15. what we look forward to

16. a nightmare dressed like a daydream

17. antithetical girlie

18. this is the tactic (⚘)

19. honey it hurts (⚘)

20. exes and ohs

21. takoyaki cravings

22. kill me with kindness

23. tell me, tell me (⚘)

24. do you think about me?

25. wish u were sober (⚘)

ACT III

26. you look like shit (⚘)

27. a taste of fame

28. reminds me of

29. helpless, breathless (⚘)

30. oh how you woo me

31. all over again

32. disconnected

33. this love is so illogical

34. don’t care if you ruin me (⚘)

35. hate clingy men

36. need you like oxygen (⚘)

37. media craze

38. hard to love (⚘)

39. coming home

40. only your love

EPILOGUE

41. new friends

42. love languages

43. utterly nonsensical

end

✦

bonus content

post break-up [name]

don’t you know that i’m intoxicated !

you said you liked the way i spoke

unsent letter #1

one of the boys

kuroo being a menace for 12 panels straight

kodzuken mayhem

taglist is CLOSED !

to be REMOVED from the taglist you can just send an ask or comment :)

notes. hey so i’m starting my first smau series?!!? *squeals and kicks feet in excitement* i hope i get to finish it lmao i plan to not make it that long prolly around only like 30 chaps! hope u’ll enjoy reading it as much as i’ll enjoy making it! also thank you everyone for 200 followers! i rlly appreciate it <3

icons used as pfps are not mine but the content of this smau is. please do not repost this on any other platform. © idlerin 2023

[pinkaditty]

Who's Passing NNN? Tokyo Debunker Pt 7

GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!1

a/n: hey wow i need 2 go 2 bed like. two hours ago. anyways! have this. i hope you enjoy this because it took me a while 2 write it... i got writer's block and wasn't reinspired until i had a lightbulb moment 4 Towa porn. i'll be posting that immediately after posting this. quick disclaimer that i write these under the assumption the tokyo debunker boys are at least 18 years old. they appear to be present at a university considering there are professors and a chancellor. not to mention the boys drink, smoke, gamble, and refer to themselves as adults.

summary: FINAL part of the "Who's Passing NNN?" Tokyo Debunker series. please enjoy!

cw: one pathetic man and one impassive man jerking off. MINORS DNI!!!!!!!!!!! never proofread as per usual <3

Frostheim || Vagastrom || Jabberwock || Sinostra || Hotarubi || Obscuary || Mortkranken

(Towa porn 2 be posted... keep an eye out)

Mortkranken:

Yuri Isami: Pass

Of course he passes, but he doesn’t think it’s worth celebrating. He does this all the time anyway, as he barely has time to do anything out of the ordinary when his entire life centers around research (which I think low-key determines his self-worth but we’ll get into that later). He gets boners but hardly deals with them unless he miraculously finds some time to, as he hates doing it while he’s bathing anyhow.

He twirls his pen around his thumb five times. He’s bouncing his right leg. He’s carefully staring at the paper before him. He’s taking steady breaths, he’s blinking repeatedly, he’s rapping his knuckles against his desk. Nothing is working. A faint blush dusts his cheeks and his groin still twitches indignantly. Clearly, this boner had no intention of leaving him soon. He groans in frustration, throwing his pen onto the desk in front of him and burying his face in his hands. Come on. All he had to do was focus, just for a few minutes. Just for a few minutes! He was so ridiculously close to making a breakthrough, he assumed, in relation to your curse. It was a start. All he had to do was use his stigma, just for a moment. But he couldn’t focus well enough. Instead, his focus was unfortunately redirected to his half-hard cock every time he felt a twitch. It was unusually persistent today, growing even as he presses down on it harshly, resisting the moan that threatens to slip past his lips. He crumples forward into the desk, one hand still pressing into his persistent boner, the other acting as a cushion for his forehead. 

He had to admit, it had been a while since he’d last got off… He lets that thought trail off, feeling his blush grow a deeper shade of pink. Before he can really think about it, he begins to gently palm himself, letting out a pleased sigh before suddenly jumping up and frantically whipping his head back and forth, checking to see if anyone was nearby. 

Thankfully, there wasn’t. It was dark in the lab, the only lights being at his desk, the bathrooms, and the stairs. He sighs with relief, about to melt back into palming himself, before he stops cold. No, he can’t do this out in the open! Who knows what sort of particles would infect his perfectly sterile space if he dared to do such a thing here? His eyes flick towards the bathrooms. He’s out of his chair in a second, stiffly making his way to the light above them. He idly wonders when he’d made the decision to do this, but it hardly stopped him. He’s slipped through the doors and picked a stall in a matter of seconds, already hurriedly leaning against the walls of one and harshly palming himself through his jeans again. He hums in pleasure, the building urgency reducing to a content thrum instead. 

He almost gets carried away, palming himself through his pants, before the urgency kicks in again and he hurriedly pulls his dick out, leaning his head against the stall door. He strokes quickly, partially in hopes to get it over with quickly, and partially simply from how euphoric it feels to touch himself after so long. He doesn’t last long, his face soon contorting into one of pleasure, his eyes rolling back and his jaw clenched tight. A pathetic whine springs from him as he spills himself on the bathroom floor, careful to point his cock away from him to avoid any of his own cum splattering on him. 

He pants, his head spinning as he surveys the mess. His legs wobble beneath him, and he grips the stall door to keep himself upright. This would take some cleaning. 

Jiro Kirisaki: Pass

He hardly has time to shower because of Yuri. If you think he’s got time to jack off, think again. Not to mention he just doesn’t seem the type to do it for any reason besides necessity. I do believe he has a high libido, but I think he sees it as frivolous, if anything. He jacks off to relieve himself and that’s it.

He’s done trying. 

He was in the middle of packing materials to perform the mandatory health checks on the ghoul students. Normally, he’d be perfectly focused on his task. He would meticulously organize the tools just as Yuri showed him, ensure he had the appropriate medications and treatments for the corresponding ghouls, and be on his way. Today, however, he could hardly bring himself to focus on organizing the tools. He had done that so often at this point that it should be muscle memory, but all that practice had done nothing for him today. The tools were scattered in the bag. He hadn’t even realized he’d been simply tossing them in until one ot them bounced off the bag, clattering onto the nearby table. He sighs, groaning inwardly, his face remaining impassive. This was going to be a headache. 

He peered into the bag, his tired eyes sweeping over the jumbled mess of tools. He frowns, sifting through it, deciding internally whether he wanted to clean this all up and get going, or if he wanted to stay behind a while longer. He glanced at his watch. Technically, he had a few minutes before he needed to get going… Just this once couldn’t hurt. 

He stands, finding his way to the nearest bathroom. Hopefully, this wouldn’t take long. He had work to do, and Yuri would get upset if he wasn’t on time. He slumps his way into an empty bathroom, finding a stall and locking it behind him. He closed his eyes, pursing his lips in a pensive expression. This was probably going to be a pain, but he had to if he wanted to be able to focus. He had to if he wanted to get this over with. He groans inwardly again and slowly reaches down his body, unbuckling his belt and slipping a hand into his pants, gently stroking his stiffened cock. Just one sroke sent a shiver up his spine, and he sucked in a breath, determined to keep quiet. 

Bracing himself against the stall, he presses one hand over his mouth and begins stroking himself rather harshly with the other. He had no time to waste. Almost immediately, he feels his legs begin to buckle under him, the pleasure shooting down his legs. Small whimpers and light groans slip past his lips as he continues, going as fast as he can. He bites his hand to keep himself quieter, and continues stroking, gently thumbing at the head as he does. A groan sounds from his throat, and he almost feels the need to give up on keeping quiet. He curses, keeping up the fast pace, feeling his arm begin to burn as he does. He thrusts his hips forward into his hand to speed up the process, his body trembling as he feels his orgasm rapidly approaching. 

And all at once, he bursts, his seed splattering into the stall wall. He pants, surveying his mess, letting his head spin for only a moment before he had to get back to work. He leans against the door, panting, biting his lip as his cock twitched again.

a/n: RIPS SHIRT OFFFFFF IT'S FINALLY DONE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!! anyways i hope you all enjoy this. my beloved brain slop. i actually do not think i did a good job so idk i hope its good.

usual note that i adore likes, comments, and reblogs!!!!!! please please please tell me how much u enjoyed <3 i like 2 know bc it motivates me.

[6okuto]

EASY SWEETNESS

itadori x gn!reader | insecure reader (about your laugh and... what you look like from an angle below? he's lying on your chest and you won't look down at him)

itadori’s a sweetheart without really trying.

maybe it’s just another one of his talents, you wonder—his way of making your heart skip a beat. compliments, gifts, how, with his back turned, his hand could find yours solely from the sound of your voice. it seemed to be as ingrained in him as the raw strength he held, or the recipe to his favourite late night noodles that he made every week; practiced yet somehow innate.

“you’re such a sweet talker, yuuji,” you deflected his compliment once (you had said something about not liking your laugh, and he had called it sweet instead, because there was no bad laugh, especially yours that he always wanted to hear), warmth tingling your face and ears.

“huh?” he tilted his head. “well, i guess so…wait, no? yes? it’s just the truth, though. is it sweet talking if it’s just being honest?”

you can’t help yourself from thinking back to that as he rests on top of you, favourite throw blanket covering the both of you and tucked beneath your feet so you wouldn’t get cold, and a movie you’ve both watched a dozen times plays on the television screen.

it was a comedy—one that yuuji happened to play in the background as he studied but, inevitably, distracted him from it. he told you it stuck with him, and it’s found its way back to viewership every few months when he feels like unwinding.

it was really only a matter of time before you took part too.

you’ve both got lines memorized from the words down to the pace they’re said, even the cut-offs by other characters and the noises playing in the background. you feel the rumble before you hear yuuji’s voice, smushed like his face against your chest, as he acts out the scene.

“hey, you think at some point we’ll have the whole movie memorized?” he asks, moving to look up at you with his chin resting against you.

and the thing about someone resting on your chest is that you have to look down when you speak, and the problem with that is that the angle isn’t all that flattering.

so you smile, eyes fixed on the screen yet not following a single word being said as you become aware of the angle of your head, and what you look like from a few inches away. “maybe. that’d take at least a few more dozen watches though, unless we’re talking active memorization.”

“then what about with active memorization?”

“hm…for you? i’d still say at least a dozen. movies are really long you know?”

“and you?”

“probably the same? like, if it’s just us two, that’s a lot of lines, and i don’t think megumi would be ecstatic to join. nobara, maybe.”

a character begins to yell at another as your fingers come to card through yuuji’s hair—yuuji, whose response seems to be silence until—“babe.”

“hm?”

“why won’t you look at me?”

you snort, fingers pausing so you can gently mess with his hair instead. “i look bad from that angle, yuu.”

and you hope, maybe, he’ll leave it there, move back to the memorization idea, pick the characters he’d act out best. it really isn’t a favourable angle for anyone, so maybe he won’t look much further into the way your lips form a tight smile, or the forced breathy laugh at whatever’s just happened on screen.

“no you don’t,” he says matter-of-factly.

“...yuuji, really—”

“i think you look nice from every angle.” yuuji rests his cheek against you again. and you let your eyes flicker down, just once, just to see him grin as soon as your gazes connect. “i like looking at you from anywhere, but especially here.”

you shoot him a look of disbelief. “that’s your favourite spot to look at me from?”

“well.” he shifts his legs and kicks the blanket a little, untucking it from beneath you. “any spot that’s super close is nice so i can really see you, and do this—”

yuuji grunts a little as he moves up to kiss your cheek, hands finding home beside your head—you can feel him grinning even before he’s moved away to look at you.

“and you say you aren’t a sweet talker,” you murmur, face warm and housing a stupidly lovesick grin.

“hey.” he pouts. “i’m telling you i’m not a sweet talker, it’s just the truth as your boyfriend.”

“sweet talker.”

“i’m sweet and a talker. not a sweet talker.”

“okay, sweetie.” you try to joke and scrunch your nose, the pet name awkward and foreign on your tongue, but yuuji only smiles again in response.

“yeah, that works too. should we start calling each other sweetie now? i think it kind of fits.” 

“yuuji—”and you’re convinced he has a talent now, because even as he exaggerates the new term with a sickeningly sweet voice, it manages to roll off his tongue as naturally as every other compliment he’s said to the point that you think maybe you wouldn’t mind him using it—“yeah, sweetie?”

i'm gonna be so fr sweetness looks like a silly word to me rn. specfically when all capitalized...SWEETNESS... girl what is that

[glorious-spoon]

a miserable pile of secrets [9-1-1 | Eddie Diaz & Hen Wilson | 1/1]

1.8K words | friendship | emotional hurt/comfort | implied/referenced cheating

a miserable pile of secrets [on AO3]

She finds Eddie up on the rooftop, which makes sense, given that Buck is currently working out his feelings on the heavy bag after Bobby finally snapped at the two of them to get their acts together unless they wanted to be benched. Chim's down in the weight room with him, which means that Hen is up here in the warm night air to talk some sense into the other half of their codependent little unit, who is currently perched on one of the folding chairs that they usually leave up here. He's as still as a statue, tense like he's afraid of what his body might do if he lets it move.

"Hey," Hen says, and he gives a jerky little nod of acknowledgement. "Mind if I sit?"

"Go ahead."

"Thanks." She pulls out one of the other chairs and sits down. "So."

"Bobby sent you."

"I sent myself," she corrects mildly, and watches Eddie's shoulders hunch a little. "I don't think I've ever seen you and Buck fight like that."

Though the truth is, she really only caught the tail end of it. Buck's frustrated voice rising on, "Do you hear yourself? How did you think this was going to work out? Have you even thought about Chris? What, you were just going to introduce him to her like—"

"Chris? Since when is how I parent my son any of your business?"

"I don't know, Eddie, you kind of made it my business when you put me in your fucking will!"

"Yeah, well, maybe that was a mistake!"

There was ringing silence in the wake of that. Then Buck said something quieter, inaudible from where Hen and Chim were standing frozen outside the locker room door, and Eddie spat, "Go to hell. I'm done talking about this."

The door slammed open and he stormed out, only pausing for a moment when he saw the two of them standing there. It wasn't until he'd already stomped up the stairs to the loft that Buck emerged, scowling.

"I don't want to talk about it," he snapped, before either of them could speak.

That was six hours ago. Neither of them has said a single word to each other since outside of the bare minimum on calls. The tension in the back of the truck has been thick enough to cut with a knife, and none of Chim's increasingly desperate jokes has done a damn thing to lighten the mood.

Hen doesn't blame Bobby for being fed up with the pair of them. She's caught somewhere between that and worry, herself. This isn't like them. Either of them.

Eddie shrugs again, tense. "I don't really feel like talking about it."

"Mm." 

Hen kicks her legs out, relaxes into the chair and waits him out. It doesn't take long. Maybe two minutes before he lets out an angry little huff and says, "Marisol dumped me this morning."

"Oh," Hen says. That explains some of the mood, anyway. "Well, I'm sorry to—"

"I cheated on her. She found out."

She closes her mouth. For a moment she just looks at him: his tight jaw, his hands in fists on his thighs, so tense he looks like he's about to snap. Like looking through a warped mirror to a younger version of herself, and maybe that's why she manages some gentleness when she says, "That doesn't sound like you."

"Yeah. That's what Buck said. Shows what he knows."

"Why'd you do it?"

"It doesn't matter. It was stupid. I fucked up."

"If you're waiting on me to tell you otherwise, you'll be waiting a while." Eddie lets out a sharp, bitter little bark of laughter, and Hen adds. "I've been there, you know."

"Yeah. But it's not—Karen forgave you."

"Eventually, yeah. She didn't have to."

"Yeah," Eddie says, and then doesn't say anything else. 

"Is that what you and Buck were fighting about?"

He shrugs again. Like talking to a damn teenager, Hen thinks. Not Denny, with his easy sweetness, but like one of the other kids who come through their home sometimes on temporary placements: already on the defensive, claws out, ready to fight. 

"I guess," he mutters finally.

"You put him in your will?" Eddie scowls at her, and she shrugs. "Hey, if you want it to be a secret, maybe don't have your domestics at the top of your lungs in the locker room we all use."

He scoffs, clearly annoyed, but doesn't get up and storm off, so she's counting that as a win. Finally, he says, "Yeah. He's down as Chris's legal guardian if something happens to me. Since—uh, since I almost died in that well collapse a few years back."

Oh. Hen contemplates that for a moment, squares it up in her head with what she already knows about Eddie. It's not, she'll admit, completely out of left field. But still. "And you think maybe that was a mistake?"

Eddie groans, dropping his head back. "I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean it."

"Maybe you should tell Buck that."

"He's pissed at me."

"Seems mutual."

"Yeah," Eddie says, wry and still kind of irritated. But then he sighs. "You ever do something where you know the whole time you're doing it that it's going to blow up in your face, and somehow that still doesn't stop you?"

"Yep," Hen says, remembering a dark little motel room and the sharp cut of Eva's smile. A whole damn pile of fuck-ups, that relationship was, and she dragged it along with her to almost ruin the best thing in her life.

"I keep thinking I see Shannon. It's like she's just around the corner, like if I turn around fast enough, she'll be there, and I'll be able to go back and make it right. But I can't."

"No. You can't."

"It's been five fucking years."

"No timeline on grief."

"I went on a date with a woman just because she looked like her." Hen raises her eyebrows at him. He slouches lower in his seat. "A couple of dates. It—didn't end well."

"Mm. You mean because she turned out to be a whole damn person who wasn't Shannon, or because your girlfriend found out?"

"Both," Eddie mutters. "Believe me, I already heard it from Buck."

"Oh, I believe it."

"But he's—" Eddie snaps his mouth shut.

"Kind of a hypocrite on this particular subject?" Hen offers.

"That's not what I was going to say. He's with Tommy now. So."

"So?"

"Never mind. It doesn't matter."

Hen would dearly love to interrogate that line of thinking, but she keeps her mouth shut. For a little while, they don't speak. It's a transient kind of peace; their next call could come at any minute. But for now, the city's as quiet as it ever is, lit up and beautiful in the distance.

Eventually, Eddie shifts in his chair, straightens up like he's bracing for something, then says, abruptly, "Can I ask you a personal question?"

Hen raises her eyebrows. "Go ahead."

"Have you ever been with a guy?"

"Excuse me?"

"Forget it," he says quickly, hunching in on himself again. "I don't even know why I asked. You can tell me to go to hell."

She almost does tell him to go to hell. Has her mouth open and everything. But then she takes another good look at his face and lets the words dissipate. 

"No," she says finally. "Kissed a couple of boys in high school, but I pretty much always knew it wasn't for me."

"Oh." Eddie's mouth twists. He's still staring a hole in the concrete by his feet, and Hen wishes like hell that this was easier for him, that he could have stumbled into it with wide eyes and open arms without leaving a trail of wreckage in his wake. Buck managed it, but it's not like that for everyone. She knows that.

"Karen was engaged to a man, you know," she says, and she watches him still, watches him turn, finally, to look at her. 

"I didn't know that."

"It was a long time ago. College sweetheart. She called it off a week before the wedding. Broke his damn heart, from what I hear. Probably better in the long run, though, all things considered."

Eddie laughs at that, a raw, horrible little sound. "I was a bad husband to Shannon. I loved her so much, and I still could never—and I always thought that maybe, if we'd just had more time, maybe I could have gotten it right, and we could have been a family again, and it would have been okay."

"But she died."

"She asked me for a divorce."

"Oh." Hen takes a breath, lets it out. Careful, careful. "I didn't know that."

"Nobody knows that. I mean. Bobby does. But nobody else. Because she died two days later, so I never had to—to tell anyone. I never had to admit it. I could keep pretending. But it doesn't even matter, because I've also fucked up every relationship I've been in since. So it's kind of obvious where the problem is."

"Mm. You know what my mama used to say?"

Eddie cuts her a look. "What?"

"Get down from that cross, we need the wood."

When he laughs this time, it sounds a little more real. Hen nudges her knee against his, and for a minute they sit there together in silence.

"I fucked up," he says again, but it's calmer.

"Yep."

"What the hell do I say to Buck?"

Not Marisol, Hen notes. Though the truth is she's pretty sure that whole relationship was dead and gone long before whatever went down this morning. Maybe from the very beginning. Eddie's just got a bad habit of dragging those corpses around. "Sorry might be a good start."

"He's gonna ask why. I don't have a good answer. I can't—" He looks over at her, and all Hen can think is that he looks so damn young. "I can't."

"So tell him that. You know he's not gonna push it."

"Yeah, he will."

"He's worried about you."

Eddie scoffs. "Yeah."

That was, Hen surmises what the fight was about in the first place. Unstoppable force, immovable object. Sometimes she wishes she could just knock their stubborn heads together until they showed some sense.

"He loves you," she says, and Eddie flinches.

"I know that," he mutters.

Hen sighs. "Just talk to him. You don't have to tell him anything you're not ready to tell him, but just—talk to him. Okay? For all our sakes."

"Yeah, okay," Eddie says, sounding defeated. "Sorry about that."

"We'll survive," Hen says. She bumps her knee against his again, and they sit there together in silence, watching the city lights, until the bell starts going off below.