#sorry about the camera again. I know it's pretty bad and you can hardly see the drawing..

[mel-loly]

-Just literally random things that i draw, part.8 (special one!)

(Did with my friend Mary and my sister @lelaloly <3)

[theminecraftbee]

the summer before THE END...

(this fic contains @hotguycomiczine spoilers! go read it first! i'll wait!)

It’s midday. The sun is heavy and hot, bearing down against the asphalt and visibly making the air shimmer over the road. Summer in Hermitopia can be miserable, and frankly Cuteguy thinks it’s far more miserable than the bruises. The humidity makes his feathers stick together and itch in awkward ways, he’s sweaty twice over because he hadn’t had time to actually wash his costume between the last major villain attack, his recent part-time line cook job, and then this fight.

He’s in his early thirties and he’s becoming an old man, he thinks. His knees should not hurt this much, and yet here they are. Vigilantism is going to give him early arthritis.

They’ve driven off the villain. Didn’t manage to catch him, though. He wasn’t even from Hermitopia. That’s been happening more lately; people who see Hermitopia as some lawless wasteland where they can come visit, avoid drinking any water, and live out their dreams of being a comic book character, damn the consequences or collateral damage. It’s frustrating. Sometimes, deep in Cuteguy’s soul, he sort of thinks the Soup Group has a point in calling out all this bullshit.

Of course, they do all that murder about it. So. Not much better, really.

He leans against a building and tries to breathe. Normally he has a water bottle with his costume, but this guy had homemade napalm. Luckily, not real napalm! The water did work for putting out the fire! Unfortunately, it’s ninety-seven degrees and humid and Cuteguy has just done enough cardio that he’s honestly worried about the odds he passes out. 

Out on the street, Hotguy is chatting with every civilian he comes across. He’s grandstanding. He’s giving blow-by-blows. He’s acting like his sweat doesn’t stink like a mere mortal’s. He has a water bottle, and he’s taking sips of it between chats with reporters and posing for cameras. There are enough cars and civilians that Cuteguy isn’t all that worried about the TCG yet. Hotguy’s still pretty damn wanted, what with the whole possession thing that they don’t exactly have the means to prove to the public, so Cuteguy’s got to keep an eye out for them, but with this many cameras on him? The TCG isn’t about to arrest him on camera. Despite everything, he's still too charismatic; he'd still make them look too bad. 

Cuteguy wipes his forehead again. He does notice when someone starts approaching him; he might be exhausted, but he’s acting as Hotguy’s situational awareness while he’s busy playing up crowds. He can’t afford to be that exhausted, so he isn’t. That, and the woman approaching him is hardly as stealthy as the Bleeding Hart. Another thing he might have to give to the Soup Group were he willing to give them credit for anything: he’s never been able to fully stop noticing where everyone is around him. Hotguy had winced and called it “hypervigilance”. Cuteguy had said that he wasn’t any better, he just calls it a superpower. Hotguy had said it is hardly his fault his superpower promotes vigilance. Cuteguy had—

“Uh, good fight. Thanks,” says the woman.

“Oh, uh. You’re welcome,” Cuteguy says.

She’s tall and blonde. Also, she has four arms. Cuteguy should have probably noticed that first, but he didn’t, and that’s on him.

“Bit of a mess, especially in this weather. Hotter and they’d issue a heat advisory, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Cuteguy says.

He is not good at post-battle smalltalk. That’s why it’s Hotguy’s job. He’s good at causing chaos if needed, but chaos is the opening the TCG would need to get to Hotguy. Cuteguy glances in his direction. He’s posing and signing autographs still. He can’t help but sigh. They’re going to be here all day.

The four-armed lady follows his gaze.

“You know, I’d always wondered why you stick to him,” she says.

“Sorry?” Cuteguy says.

“I just mean—I watched the fight. Yeah, he’s good, but you’re decent at range too. You can get enough height to really not need perfect accuracy because you’ll be hard to hit. Wings are, uh, a pretty overpowered combat tool, really, especially when most of your enemies are on the ground. But you’re good at close range, so, uh, inside isn’t awful for you either, really.”

“I mean, you’re right, I am pretty good,” Cuteguy says, interrupting her. “I don’t really get—”

“Look at him,” the woman says. “You ran around more than him and he took the water bottle.”

Cuteguy wants to defend Hotguy for that one; it’s hardly his fault that Cuteguy dumped his water bottle on napalm like it would do anything. It did, which is convenient, but still. Not Hotguy’s call. He doesn’t quite get the chance.

“Even after everything last month, he’s still grandstanding too. Sure, he’s stopped shooting people for not being grateful enough, or holding rescues hostage for cash, but look at him. Hardly any better, is he. Sure, he says he was possessed—”

“He was,” Cuteguy snaps.

“—but like, is the guy he is now actually all that different? Just saying.”

Cuteguy stares at the man trying to get extra photo ops out of a group of passing runners. They’re topless to account for the heat, which is probably why Hotguy wants photos with them. Cuteguy can just barely hear the man asking to trade phone numbers. Is it worse or better, Cuteguy wonders, that the phone number Hotguy gives out just goes straight to Cub’s inbox? Is that catfishing or just good sense?

“He’s trying to help,” Cuteguy says.

“He’s desperate for attention,” the four-armed woman says. “You know, you’d probably be better without him. After everything that happened, your reputation would be better too. A little more in the shadows, a little less associated with his crimes.”

“He’s…”

“I just want the real reason, really,” the woman says. 

“What do you…”

“Why would you stick with him when you’re so much better?”

Hotguy waves goodbye to the runners. He takes another sip of the water bottle. Really, there’s so much that Cuteguy can say here, watching that. He could say something about how, in the terrible days when the Soup Group had first come onto the scene, Hotguy had barely left Cuteguy’s side until Cuteguy started pushing him away. He could say that Hotguy is earnest, that he really does want to save people, despite the fact he also wants attention. He could say that he knows the man behind the mask now, and he’s seen his films, and frankly getting a little recognition as Hotguy kind of makes up for not getting recognition for his decent acting talent. He could say something about playing Mario Kart on the couch, or learning to aim a bow, or fights with Doc, or secrets shared that Cuteguy wants to make sure Hotguy never has an incentive to spread. He could say something about how dangerous fighting alone is. That’s probably the more sensible thing to say, actually; Cuteguy knows exactly how dangerous fighting alone is.

What Cuteguy says is this:

“He makes me happy.”

There is a long not-quite silence as sirens and cicadas fill the summer air.

“Huh,” the woman says.

Cuteguy doesn’t say anything else.

“Well. I mean. I don’t really know how to save you from that, so I guess I’ll just leave you to it,” the woman says. “Consider if he’s really worth it.”

She leaves. Cuteguy stares after her a moment before shaking his head and going back to scanning the crowd for any known TCG elements.

“Birdie!” Hotguy crows, running over from the reporters. “We’re on the 5 PM news!”

“Really? An out-of-towner with questionable pyrotechnics made it?” 

“I got it worked out,” Hotguy says confidently. “But, uh, with that said, you look like you need some AC and a drink. I have so much Gatorade in my fridge that it isn’t even funny. All the labels are pulled off because it’s for that one football movie I did, right? And for some reason they didn’t want to give Gatorade the product placement, so they made all these sports drinks without—”

“Not in-costume, Hotguy,” Cuteguy says, but he doesn’t put any heat into it.

“—oh, you know no one’s listening, lighten up! Anyway, so the movie ended up somehow ordering far too many bottles, and you know what they say about underpaid actors and free food—or, I’m not sure it’s actually an expression, but let me tell you, I have never turned it down. And with the number of ele… electo-mites? I think? You know, all the sweat we’re sweaty about—come on Cuteguy, I don’t want you passing out on the pavement, I really didn’t mean to get caught out that long!” Hotguy says, grabbing Cuteguy’s hand to take him back to his apartment.

Miserable heat or not, Cuteguy can’t help but smile slightly.

“I don’t want to pass out either, that’s why I’m not running, Hotguy,” he says, and he lets himself be tugged along in that man’s wake once more.

[dearweirdme]

https://www.tumblr.com/dearweirdme/757449554999296000/i-think-all-of-bts-sometimes-feed-shippers-i

i meant more that jkkrs are more accepted in the fandom, from what I've observed tkkrs are more their own fandom and they have no problem not being associated with armys, of course this isn't everyone, but from what I've seen jkkrs are generally tolerated more, I think it's cus the fandom built up tkkrs as the big bad shippers when realistically as far as shenanigans go jkkrs and tkkrs are pretty matched and there is a lot of people that bias jkk a lot and they excuse a lot of jkkr bullshit

to me fan service is sharing these moments cus fans love them, it doesn't mean to me that they're always faking it and that they secretly hate each other and play it up for the camera, rather that these are moments meant to be shared with armys and other fans that will then enjoy them, I do believe they all do it, I think even yoongi did it a lot on suwchita, a lot of people feel icky about fanservice as a term, I think it's just a term and says nothing about the closeness of the members, I think they all engage in it, sometimes even subconciously and I think some pairings just have better chemistry on camera than others but all of them are friends, it's a part of their job, not some moral failing

for taekook and specifically the hawaii photos, I go back and forth with what I believe, I think it was fanservice, I do think he did feed shippers cus of the timing of it all, but to me with tae if they indeed are dating, it doesn't come as a desire for attention from taekookers, liek clout for his photobook, but rather him wanting to share how close he is to jk, and not just to tkkrs but everyone, maybe feeding shippers isn't the correct term tho idk, either way fanservice and feeding shippers when it comes from idols themselves I don't mind much, it is part of their job and sometimes I do think they do it without even realizing it, and sometimes it's clearly the company either putting them in units the fans want to see and doing content with the ship they usually push and know people like and will want to see, I think the difference tho is when the members do it and when the company pushes narratives, that's when it starts to get icky to me, cus they're always so blatant about it, especially these recent articles

sorry this is a long ass rant again, I feel like I keep repeating myself🙈 anyway imo vminkook are all good friends and they like to show that to armys, and I believe taekook may or may not be together and that they also occasionally do fanservice cus they like to show they're close to armys and now armys and obviously tkkrs will like it

Hi anon!

I think in broad terms fanservice is the things they do to excite army. It’s stuff that has entertainment value.That can be several things, like engaging in funny behavior during a show, posting group pics, posting pics with members, mentioning each other, taping certain content, honestly a really long list of things. As you mentioned, I also think fanservice is aimed around army as a whole.

The existence of fanservice does not however mean that they never do or say things that are for themselves though. They are human, they want to share certain things because they want us to know or understand a certain part of them. I mean, they talk about hard stuff at times and share how that makes them feel.. that’s hardly fanservice, so if we accept that their negative emotions are a factor in what they share, why is it hard to accept that their positive emotions can also be shared because of a wish to be honest. I think sometimes something is fanservice and other times it is not 🤷🏻‍♀️. That does mean there’s always gonna be fandom discussion about which moments are and which aren’t though 😫.

Yes absolutely, Vminkook are the best of friends! No but seriously.. that Vmin hug when Jin got released healed parts of my heart I did not know were broken. These men have gone through a lifetime of memories together. I think it is very possible they agreed to not let shippers come between them.

[beyejun]

why can't i just catch a break?

@beyuwol

"we saw you on television."

yejun knew better than to pick up the call from his father. he knew that there would be no good news waiting for him on the other side of the line. well, not good news for yejun. he could imagine, easily, his parents calling to report that his eldest brother had gotten engaged, or that the next one was accepted to some prestigious residency program or was intending to study abroad or something about their achievements. yejun had prayed that his parents would never turn on the television and see his face exactly where it didn't belong; not in a university classroom learning the ins and outs of economics but on a stage, singing and dancing, making a fool of himself in their eyes.

"i..." he has no excuse. his father knows this too. yejun counts his lucky stars that at least it's not his mother; she had always been the more passionate of his parents, she would certainly have screamed into his ear about what a huge mistake he's made.

"is this really what you want to do, yejun?" his father's tone sounds tired, resigned. maybe it would have been better to be met with anger on the other end of the line.

quiet falls between them for a moment before yejun finally responds: "yes, it is."

he hears a long sigh on the other end of the line. "your mother and i have agreed—" yejun knows what that really means; his mother has decided. "—that if this is the path you want to take, we can't continue to support you financially. you need to make your own way from now on."

"i understand." yejun's voice is hardly more than a whisper. he knew this was coming, that he'd find himself in this situation eventually. it still hurts just as much as the thought it would. he loves them after all, despite everything. he's never known anything but his family's love his entire life.

"you can pick up your things this weekend... your brothers and i will help pack your things for you."

yejun's heart cracks with a split so massive it's nearly audible. he takes a deep breath as he again confirms his understanding, promising his father what time he'll be by to pick everything up. it's a kindness in itself that his father and brothers aren't just dumping his stuff on the front lawn or locking it in a storage until for yejun to figure out what to do with, let alone how to pay for it. he knows this isn't what his father wants to do, but the women in his family have always been the ultimate authorities in these sorts of decisions.

he can't even mourn the loss of his home of twenty-something years. yejun can't hide in the bathroom forever; there's cameras and teammates and practice waiting for him just outside of these doors. he splashes his face with water in the sink, trying to cover up the redness in his eyes. it doesn't work, but he's forced to return to the practice room anyway. yejun just thanks his lucky stars that the film crews are packing up and it's only the mounted cameras in the corners of the room that may or may not pick up on his state right now.

"oh, yuwol," yejun finds himself grateful for a familiar face right now too. he may not be dead calm, but at least he's someone familiar. "can we run the instrumental bit one more time? i think we've got it down pretty good, so it should be quick."

they did have it down pretty good, yejun swears, but try as he might he can't seem to stop making mistakes. he feels bad already for the number of times he's had to ask yuwol for one more do-over. his mind's not in it, obviously; it's still living in the phone call from fifteen minutes ago, or trying to plan how he's going to move out of his childhood home in one weekend with no idea of where he's going to stay. he knows it's not fair to his team to be so distracted but he can't seem to snap himself out of it so easily.

"sorry," he apologizes for yet another mistake, "i'm just... not feeling well, i guess."

[stargazer-sims]

Journal Entry #47 (part one)

previously - Journal Entry #46 (part seven)

Victor

Hey, everyone.

So, it's been a while, and I'm not even sure where to start. Things have been... chaotic. I guess Yuri's been keeping you up to date, and I'm sure he's told you all about my accident and everything that's been happening since, so I won't go over that again. Living it once was enough, and I'm still having nightmares about it, so... yeah. I'm trying to keep my waking hours as free from it as I can.

I haven't felt like recording anything up to now. I mean, I obviously couldn't while I was in the hospital, but since I've been home again, I haven't had the mental stamina for it, or the physical stamina either, really. Being in pain is pretty exhausting, honestly. I think I probably already knew that from taking care of Yuri, but now I understand it from personal experience. I'm not used to feeling like crap and having hardly any energy, and it sucks.

I’m confident that my arms and rib are slowly getting better, and Mom says the bruises I had on my face and shoulder and down my side are totally gone, but I'm still having brutal headaches and I still can't see properly. Julian had to set up my phone for me so I could record this. If I'm not looking right into the camera, I'm sorry, and if I'm accidentally giving all of you like, a thousand-yard stare or something, I apologize for that too.

Sometimes I think my eyes are improving, but then I'll blink or I'll try to focus on something and it's just gone again. Mostly, everything's all blurry and indistinct, as if I'm looking through one of those frosted glass shower doors. It's frustrating because not only can I not play games on my Switch or text on my phone, I can't even do stuff that doesn't require major use of my hands and arms, like watching videos or practicing my reading or even picking out audio books by myself. I have to get help finding an audio book to listen to, or a movie. I basically have to listen to movies too, which is annoying.

When I'm not in too much pain, I get bored, and without being able to do anything to distract myself, all I can do is think. I don't like that. It's too scary and depressing, especially when I start worrying about whether my life really is going to get back to normal.

I realize it's only been a little over a week since my accident — this is Monday night and it happened a week ago Friday — so I shouldn't expect too much, too soon. The doctor did say it might take a few weeks or maybe up to a month for the worst of the symptoms to resolve, after all, and I might be dealing with some aftereffects for months. She said it was a grade 4 concussion, which is the most severe type because I was unconscious for more than a full minute, and she said I've got mild swelling of the brain. That's the explanation for the bad headaches and dizziness and of course the vision problems. I'm not supposed to be doing anything strenuous, or even remotely active, really. I'm not even allowed to climb the stairs by myself until the doctor clears me to do it. Not that I can actually climb the stairs by myself anyway, but you know.

Earlier today, Yuri's dad arranged an appointment for me with the oppthalmologist that he and Mrs. Okamoto, Yuri and Yuki all go to. Her name is Dr. Ishida, and she's going to see me this coming Friday. Exactly two weeks after the accident, if you're counting. I'm hoping she gives me better news than the ophthalmologist at the hospital did.

Yeah, you didn't hear that wrong. Mr. Okamoto arranged it. Yuri was going to do it himself, but he's actually sick right now and he's not up to making important phone calls. Like, he's sick enough for the hospital, if you ask me, but I think somebody would literally have to carry him out to the car to get him there.

Managing at home when he's this ill is not ideal in my opinion, but he says he doesn't want to go to the hospital because he doesn't want to leave me. I totally get that. I don't want us to be apart either, but I'm also freaking out because I can't take care of him like I usually do, and he's not comfortable with Mom or Julian doing what I normally would. Plus, they don't know everything they should be doing for him anyway, and it's super difficult for me to explain it.

All I can say is, thank goodness for Yuri's dad.

I know what you're likely thinking. Up to now, Yuri and his father have been on really bad terms and barely spoke to each other, and Mr. Okamoto hasn’t exactly been my biggest fan either, so why am I saying I’m grateful for him? Well, the thing is, he’s surprised us all during the last several days, and not in a negative way.

Let me try to explain.

Maybe people think Yuri’s not interested in a relationship with his dad, and I guess I wouldn’t blame anyone for believing that, considering how tense things were in the past. Yuri does actually want a relationship, but he and his dad are both so stubborn that once they started resenting each other for whatever real or imagined hurt they'd caused, neither one of them was willing to let go. I think Mr. Okamoto was more at fault than Yuri for the problems between them, mostly because he didn't know how to deal with Yuri not living up to his unreasonable expectations, but to be fair, you can't have a disagreement by yourself. Yuri isn't just an innocent victim of his dad's difficult personality and crappy communication skills. He had his own part to play.

But, since my accident, we're seeing a side of Mr. Okamoto that we've never seen before. It started with him coming to the hospital right after it happened, to sign consent forms, talk to the doctors and generally deal with stuff until Yuri could get there. Then, he stayed here with Yuri while I was in the hospital, which I was grateful for. I didn't like to think about him being alone. He said it was awkward, having his father here, but also kind of reassuring in a way.

I'm glad they both seem to be softening up, at least for the moment. Yuri really needs his dad in his life, and seeing Mr. Okamoto ready and willing to help us says something about how much has changed between them in a short time.

I want to be optimistic that things are going to get better between them going forward. Anyone who didn't know the whole story would probably be inclined to be positive in this situation, and maybe I should be too. I promise I'm trying, but knowing Mr. Okamoto, I have my doubts. He's not great at consistency and he hasn't shown much interest in the past, but I guess there's always a chance this time it'll be different. For Yuri's sake, I hope so, but I suppose we'll have to wait and see.

Anyway, on Saturday night after dinner, Mr. Okamoto came over to get the stuff Hana left here that morning. Apparently, Yuri had called or texted him to pick it up because he didn't want her coming back here for it herself. I'm pretty sure nobody wanted her to come back, least of all me, so I was relieved when my father-in-law took the bags and made his exit.

I'm not sure I was quite so relieved when he returned about two hours later, with bags of his own, and with Yuki in tow.

I mean, don’t get me wrong. I was thrilled to see Yuki. I just didn’t know what to expect with her and her father planning to stay here.

When Yuki first saw me, she ran to me and hugged me so hard that I thought she might break a few more of my ribs. Then we both cried a veritable flood while she told me she loved me and that she was glad I was alive.

I hadn't realized she was at the hospital with my friends on the day of my accident, and my heart hurt when she told me how worried she'd been. Nobody would tell her anything, she said, and when she wasn’t allowed to see me, she’d feared the worst. I said I was sorry for saying I didn't want anyone to come and see me in the hospital, and she said she understood, but I wondered if she did. In hindsight, I should've agreed to let her visit. I might've felt better after a hug from my favourite local super spy and internet personality, Yuki Okamoto.

Yuki and her father haven’t left here since Saturday night. He brought the smallest shikibuton for Yuki, and of course a normal sized one for himself, and the two of them have set up camp in the laundry room, of all places. Mom and Julian are in my room, Yuri's in his own room, and of course I'm still in the dining room, so it was the only spot left.

Mr. Okamoto said he was here to help. Nobody questioned him, not even Yuri. Since then, he's been doing all kinds of things around the house, including cooking and baking, which he's good at, and housecleaning chores, which he's not good at. Most importantly, he's doing things for Yuri, like helping him in the bathroom, and making sure he stays as nourished and hydrated as possible. Mom said he even gave him a bath this morning, which in her words, "left the upstairs bathroom looking like a small tsunami went through."

While Mom mused aloud about how he could've gotten so much water everywhere and why there were so many wet towels, and complained about the disaster area he'd left behind, I laughed so hard it hurt. I was trying to picture it, and all I could think about was the time me and Ellie were babysitting her cousins, and the four-year-old decided he wanted to be a sea monster while in the bath. We even got water on the ceiling that day, although we never mentioned it to Ellie’s aunt and uncle. I guessed Yuri probably hadn’t been anywhere near as lively as that kid had been, and it was much less likely that he’d wanted to play a game and splash around for fun, so it left me curious about the mess, too.

Bathtime tsunami notwithstanding, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't thankful for Mr. Okamoto's help right now. I doubt he's anywhere close to my standards when it comes to Yuri's care, but far be it from me to look this particular gift horse in the mouth. That he's even here at all is astounding, and the fact that he basically rolled up his sleeves and plunged into the current state of madness in our home is a super big deal.

On a connected and somewhat lighter note, I'm pretty sure Julian and Mr. Okamoto are besties now. Mom still seems a little cool toward him, but he and Julian have instantly bonded over their shared interests. They both play the piano, they both love art, and apparently Mr. Okamoto is as big a science fiction and fantasy nerd as Julian. Not gonna lie, listening to the two of them geek out over video games, role playing, Llama Man comics, and classic sci-fi B movies like It Came From Sixam and Day of the Plant Sims was kind of surreal.

It was highly entertaining, having an Uncle Kaz movie marathon with them on Sunday night. We watched some of Uncle Kaz's older Japanese-language films, with English subtitles, and me and Mr. Okamoto tried our best to help Julian understand the jokes. It was fun and felt weirdly comfortable, and by the end of it, my father-in-law and future stepfather were on a first-name basis. I'm not even allowed to call my father-in-law Kenji, so obviously Julian has made a great impression.

Wait... let me backtrack a bit. Like, a lot of stuff happened before the movie marathon, and it's way more important.

On Sunday, we all slept in. Once everybody except Yuri had finally gotten out of bed, Mr. Okamoto and Yuki made rice, eggs and grilled fish for breakfast, and it was so good. Mom had to feed most of my meal to me, but Yuki and I figured out a way for me to grip a spoon without using my thumb, so with her guidance, I was able to feed myself a bowl of rice. It was strange not using chopsticks, and I still feel embarrassed about getting help to eat, but I'm learning to accept it. It’s only temporary, and things could be a lot worse, right?

But, I digress.

After breakfast, Julian helped me upstairs so I could lie down and cuddle with Yuri for a while, and try to figure out just how ill he was. I knew it was serious the night before, when he didn’t come downstairs to share my mattress in the dining room, but I didn’t know the extent of it until I could see him and physically touch him.

To my dismay, it was way worse than I’d expected. He’d been unwell for a couple of weeks before my accident, and I realized he’d been declining, but this was really bad. It blew my mind how he’d managed to hide the true severity of his pain from me, but I reminded myself that I hadn’t exactly been in a fit state to notice every little nuance of his demeanour and body language like I normally would.

Obviously, he’d been forcing himself to do everything he thought he had to do instead of resting and taking care of himself, and by Saturday night his body didn’t have enough fight left in it. His immune system is weak at the best of times, and it’s like he’s constantly pushing through a state of nearly always being mildly unwell, but this had clearly been a headlong rush into a full-on crash. There was no way he hadn’t seen this coming, even if I hadn’t.

Once I was settled in bed with him, I let him lay on top of me the way he likes, even though it made my cracked rib hurt like hell. It was pointless to say anything or to try stopping him. He was so out of it, he probably didn't even realize what he was doing and just instinctively crawled onto me, seeking any bit of familiarity and human closeness he could find. I felt bad for him because even though I was in discomfort, I knew he was in far more pain than I was. I could feel heat radiating off his skin, and every time I moved even slightly, he whimpered.

I wished with every fibre of my being that I could make all his suffering disappear. I hated that he was so sick, and that it was at least partly my fault for not paying better attention to him and letting it get to this point without insisting that he needed rest and medical attention.

"This isn't good, Yuri," I told him, after I’d inadvertently shifted my weight, and he literally cried out from either the movement itself or the abrupt change of pressure against his stomach.

“Don’t… don’t do that,” he gasped. “Hurts. Gonna make me throw up.”

Normally, I might make a joke about him throwing up in bed, but this was not a laughing situation. “If you have to, tell me. I’ll yell for your dad.”

“Please… don’t.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. His tears were soaking through my t-shirt, and I felt helpless to comfort him. “Do you want to lay a different way? It might be less uncomfortable if you’re lying on your side or your back.”

“Wanna lie like this. With our whole bodies touching.”

“We can do that with you on your side,” I said. “You can be the little spoon.”

“Don’t wanna be the little spoon.” And to prove how adamant he was about it, he curled his fingers around a fistful of my shirt, as if daring me to pry him loose. I could feel his little hand trembling against my shoulder .

I rubbed small lines on his back with my fingertips. It felt inadequate, but it was all I could do with my arm in a cast. “Yuri,” I said. “Can you listen to me for a second?”

“Yeah,” was the weak reply.

"You need to see a doctor.”

“Don't want to.”

“You can’t go on like this. You need help, and you need to be somewhere where somebody can take care of you properly.”

"No..." He dragged out the single English syllable in a long whine before continuing in barely intelligible Japanese, "Want you to take care of me."

"I can't, sweet baby," I said. "I love you so much and I want to do everything for you, and I really I wish I could, but this is too much for either of us right now. You need to be where somebody can tend to you night and day, and I think you're gonna need medicine and intravenous fluids to help you get better."

"No," he repeated.

"Yes," I insisted. "Remember last time you were this sick? You needed fluids and antibiotics, and your doctor said the hospital was the best place for you."

"Don't want antibiotics. Make me feel worse."

"I know, but only for a short time. After that, you'll start feeling better a lot quicker. Let your dad take you to the hospital so you can get better?”

“No.”

“I’m worried about you, Yuri. Please.”

"Don't wanna be alone." he said.

"You wouldn't be alone. Me and Mom and Julian would all take turns staying with you. I think even your dad would. He's really stepped up lately, you know."

"Gotta tell him..." Yuri said, but then seemed to lose the thought, and mumbled something that sounded like, "My violin."

I smiled despite the circumstances. "You have to tell your dad about your violin? What about it?"

He let out a little grunt of frustration and tugged feebly at my shirt. "Victor!"

"I'm here."

"Listen."

"I'm listening, love."

"My violin case. Tell Papa..." He trailed off momentarily, as if he was trying to think of how to make the most impact with as few words as possible. "In my violin case. Look. It's important."

"Okay," I agreed.

"Thank you," he whispered. And then, "Love you. Just... wanna protect you."

"I know," I said. "I love you too."

"Please... tell Papa. Promise."

"I promise."

That satisfied him, and he let out a long, shaky breath that was half sigh and half moan. "Gonna sleep," he murmured. He was still clutching my shirt, but it didn't take long before I felt his fingers relax.

I lay awake, thinking. I couldn't imagine what would be in Yuri's violin case other than his violin, and why it'd be so important for his father to see it, but he was so insistent that I figured I'd better not ignore his request. Besides, I promised, and you guys know how I hate breaking promises, especially ones I've made to Yuri.

When I was sure he was sound asleep, I eased him off me as carefully as I could, and then climbed out of bed. It took me a second to orient myself, and then a few more seconds to crawl my way over to where Yuri usually keeps his violin case, on the floor next to his dresser. I could make out the shape of it, and to my surprise, the distinct shape of his violin on its stand next to it. He almost never leaves his violin out for long periods of time. I didn't know when he'd practiced last, but it definitely hadn't been since I got out of the hospital. He wouldn't have left it out since Thursday, so I guessed he must've taken it out sometime on Saturday.

But why?

Cursing my clumsy fingers, I fumbled with the latch of the case for a minute or two. I let out my breath when I finally got it open.

What I found inside was something I totally did not expect. It was a beige file folder stuffed with papers.

I didn't dare try to lift it out by myself, fearing that I'd end up spilling the contents all over the floor. I knew I wouldn't be able to read anything, but I had to soothe my curiosity anyway, so I hooked my fingers under the cover of the folder and flipped it open.

I'll admit, had no idea what to make of it when I thought I saw two passports inside. Why would Yuri have our passports in a folder like this? He’d said he wanted to protect me, but surely that didn’t include leaving the country? Neither of us were in any shape for that. I didn’t understand.

I probably would've panicked if my bruised brain hadn't suddenly registered the fact that both passports were red. The covers of Canadian passports are dark blue, so neither of these could've been mine, and if mine wasn't there then Yuri's wasn't either. Even if either of us could travel, he wouldn't go anywhere without me. I was sure of that.

But, that only begged the question, whose passports were they? And what was Yuri doing with them?

Obviously, it wasn't something he was trying to hide from me, or he wouldn't have directed me to them and asked me to tell his father. The thing was, there was no way in hell I was going to show anything to Mr. Okamoto until I knew what it was myself.

Since I couldn't read the papers, and I couldn't ask Yuri about them, I decided there was only one thing to do. I made my way the short distance back to the bed, and then felt around carefully on the nightstand to locate Yuri's phone. I was glad we'd activated voice dialling on both our phones a few days ago, as that was going to make my mission a whole lot easier.

I had to concentrate to remember how Yuri had listed my mother in his contacts, but once I got it, I said aloud into the silence of the room, "Hey, Siri. Call Dr. Grace."

Mom answered on the second ring, and she sounded both confused and worried. "Yuri? Is everything okay, sweetheart? Why are you calling me from upstairs?"

"Mom, it's me," I said. "Yuri's sleeping. Everything's pretty much as you'd expect, but... can you come up, please? I need your help with something important."

"What is it?" she asked.

"I'll show you in a minute. Please, just come up. I don’t want to tell you over the phone.”

That last sentence came out weird, like a line from a badly-scripted TV show, but I didn’t waste brainpower stressing over it. I had a feeling I’d need to save my mental energy to deal with whatever I was about to learn about the passports and Yuri’s folder full of mystery papers.

"Okay," Mom said. "Hang on. I'll be right there."

[allaboutnayeli]

my heart over yours; part two | j.fleming x reader

prompt: your attention is suddenly not fully on jessie and she's not taking it well.

author notes: here's the part two y'all wanted 🥳 thanks for all the love on the first part like i swear i seen everything, just too nervous to say anything back lmaoo. regardless i hope this meets expectations 💗 enjoy! p.s. i swear the fic reads better while listening to the song...

contains: ucla!jessie x reader, childhood bestie!jessie, jealous!jessie, jeffery is trying to not tweak out 💔 #failed, reader is sorta of a bad gf/about to be gf to blondie, slight guilt tripping (?) not on purpose, spelling / grammatical issues maybe ignore them, jessie is sorta mean in this..

masterlist to other parts

playing been away by brent faiyaz 🎵

you don't answer jessie's question right away. easily being able to spot the badly hidden irritation in her voice, she could never hide her emotions from you. your heartbeat picks up as you look away from your screen. your eyes landing on your wall before you say anything. jessie asks something else before you can even answer her first question; "what did you say?"

"jess, what do you mean what did i say? if i said i forgot.. and.." you try to figure out what to say but can't find the words to tell your bestfriend that you forgot her game and technically can't make it because of a date with some girl you hardly know from class. jessie stays silent as she gets up out of the hotel bed. leaving her phone on the bed, her camera just facing the ceiling. you narrow your eyes in confusion, but before you could even say anything jessie comes back into the frame.

she grabs her phone then sets it up against something on the nightstand next to the bed. your confusion worsens as you notice some type of shirt in her hands as she walks back a little so that most of her is in the frame; now that you can fully see her you notice that she's wearing your plaid pajama shorts and your hoodie.

"so that's where my clothes went?" you say in a joking tone, trying to lighten the mood. you smile once you see jessie let out a soft giggle. she shakes her head before holding up the shirt; showing off the backside that has your last name on it. now that you can see what the shirt actually is you can see it's a national canadian team jersey. you let out a loud laugh of disbelief, not expecting to see your name on the back in of a national team jersey ever. "jessie..what..?" you say, a smile on your lips.

jessie holds up the jersey for a few minutes before moving out of frame to go put it back near her bag on the other side of the room. she comes back to the phone, picks it up, and lays down on her bed.

"all of the team said we should get you this since you're always at every game.. sometimes.." you giggle hearing jessie say sometimes, she gives you a little eye roll before continuing, "and we were going to surprise you with it this weekend but.."

her trailing off makes you frown. guilt rushes into your mind. you have been to a majority of the canadian national team's games especially if they happened in canada; it just felt natural to support jessie and pretty soon after attending your fifth game, you weren't just attending for jessie. you went to the games to see the other national team players as well. with the whole team becoming close to you just as they are close to jessie. you're basically a honorary player.

"god, jessie-" again you try to explain yourself more, but she cuts you off again. "sorry i just keep not letting you talk, but, god.. you don't have to come if you don't want to. it's not like i want to guilt you into doing something. never that," jessie says softly. you let out a sigh at how kind-hearted jessie can really be. she was a true sweetheart.

you go silent for a few moments. thinking about the current situation and how you could possibly not hurt anyone's feelings in the process. jessie was your top priority, but sasha didn't deserve to just be blown off. she wasn't too bad; she was really a good person too. it didn't feel fair to just drop her. you let out a soft gasp when an idea comes to your mind. jessie furrows her brows as you say, "i'll come but i have to talk to sasha first. you know about the date. don't wanna just blow her off."

"oh, okay. yeah that's.. whatever," the freckled woman tries to hide the irritation that's back in her tone. why did you have to talk to sasha about anything? especially something pertaining to you and jessie, not sasha. you hardly knew the girl and now you needed her opinion on decisions that frankly don't have nothing to do with her? it was slowly pissing jessie off. she fights off to urge to say that you actually don't have to talk to sasha first and you could just get on the first flight to san diego instead of wasting your time on some blonde chick who doesn't even know you; well, doesn't know you like how jessie knows you.

she wasn't even your girlfriend, just some date. hardly that, more like a project partner.

you can hear the irritation in her voice easily, again, jessie couldn't hide her emotions around you to save her life but you don't address it. reminding yourself to talk to her about it when you come down to san diego for the game.

soon enough the conversation moves away from anything sasha related with you not wanting to annoy jessie any further. she rambles to you about this show she's been watching throughout camp and how when she went to the beach she got thrown in the water and also how she saw this shop that she thinks you would like and so much more. that short time period where it felt like you two hardly talked really took it's toll on her, who else could she talk to about anything and everything? no one else. that period of time took it's toll on you too. you didn't realize how much you missed jessie until you talked to her for hours.

that night she refused to let you hang up, not that you were going to. asking (pouting at you) for you to fall asleep on facetime with her. you obviously agreed; falling asleep first. once you fully fell asleep, jessie took a few facetime photos. putting them in her folder in her gallery that she has for you. eventually she drifts off to sleep too. sasha long forgotten.

in the morning you're the one who hangs up first at the dismay of jessie. the canadian player tried her hardest to get you to stay on the phone until she had to go training which was in two hours. unfortunately, you had a morning class and felt weird about staying on the phone while in a classroom of nearly hundred people.

"i'll be silent, c'mon," jessie pouts. her hair is an absolute mess, stray hairs flying everywhere out of her loosely tied ponytail. she's still so tired. you can tell by how she's trying to keep her eyes open; her tired voice makes you smile.

"no, jess, you c'mon. you are so noisy when you're getting ready," you say. jessie lets out a groan before shaking her head, "no i'm not. i think you confused yourself with me because that's all you."

"stop lying to yourself, freckles."

"whatever, whatever. go ahead and leave me here.. all alone.." you roll your eyes at jessie's dramatics. she groans again when even her dramatics don't work. you finally hang up after promising her that you would call her tonight. she texts you hardly a minute after you hanged up,

freckles 💗

you woke me up, left, and now i can't sleep 😐

you

that's not even my fault

blame ucla

freckles 💗

im not saying you should have skipped class for your long term bestfriend..

but im not saying you shouldn't have

you

did someone replace my bestfriend?

my jess always forced me to go to class so..

freckles 💗

👎👎👎

not replaced it's called upgraded

you send a few texts back before slipping your phone into your bag. it seems that jessie falls back to sleep as you don't feel no vibrations from your phone as you walk to your first class.

the day passes by slowly as you bounce from class to class. why did you pick this major again? you can't even remember at this point. jessie sent you a few photos of her eating breakfast earlier. those made you smile and feel a little less exhausted. if only she was here. the day continues on and eventually you reach the class where sasha is in.

you two haven't talked since she asked you out yesterday. you were busy talking to jessie and you guess sasha had other things to do as well. now she's sitting next to you in class. sasha's playing with your fingers while telling you about how she struggled to cook dinner last night. you make a few jokes about how she could probably burn water if she had the chance which makes her give you a playful push to the shoulder.

"uh, sash. can i call you that?" you ask softly, unsure about giving her a nickname. sasha smiles, "of course you can. it's better than blondie, you know."

"who calls you that?"

"idiots who don't know me," she gives you a cheeky smile before shrugging, "but you do know me so don't call me blondie. alright?"

you give her a nod while smiling. the woman has a good sense of humor, you won't deny it. not like jessie's but funny. you mentally scold yourself for comparing the two; they are two different people, obviously they won't act the same.

"alright. anyways, i have something to ask you," your eyes glance over to the door of the classroom where your professor now comes though, "after though. our professor finally decided to show up." sasha giggles at your jab before nodding, pulling away from touching your hand.

the lecture lasts for nearly three hours. with the professor at the end reminding everyone to turn in their projects next week. good thing you and sasha finished that huge hunk of work earlier in the week; you didn't feel like stressing about that while down in san diego. sasha holds onto your arm as you two walk out of class then towards her dorm. "i didn't know rather your question was something important, so i wanted to give us some privacy. you know," sasha smiles as she lets your arm go.

"yeah, i get it," you walk into the vaguely familiar space after she unlocks the door. dropping your bag onto the floor next to her bed before sitting on it. you watch sasha slip her shoes off before joining you on the bed; shoulder to shoulder. for some reason you shift away, not out of rudeness. you just didn't want to be that close right now. if sasha cared she didn't say anything.

"okay, so, do you know about the usa vs canada friendly that's happening in san diego over the weekend, right?" you say, remembering how sasha and you talked about soccer sometime ago.

"yeah. what about it?"

"you know my bestfriend, jessie?" you don't notice how sasha purses her lips hearing you say jessie's name, you continue, "she plays for canada and i always go to her games. i been missing her and her entire team, so i planned to go to the game this weekend and forgot to tell you. i don't regret saying yes to the date, but i was thinking.. instead of going on the date you could come with me to the game? it would be so fun, i swear!"

sasha was feeling conflicted at first. she wanted to spend time one on one with you, so you two could possibly further this relationship between you but having the opportunity to go to an international friendly wasn't usually given to her. "yeah! okay, let's go. i been wanting to see the usa play for so long anyways," she gives you one of her usual bright smiles. seeing that smile calms your nerves. now you just had to tell jessie.

you spend almost ten minutes in sasha's dorm. just playing around and talking before you notice how it's starting to get late. sasha walks you all the way out of her dorm building, telling you to sleep well as you leave. you give her a smile before continuing to walk away.

the moment you get into jessie and yours dorm, you text her.

you

i asked sash if she wanted to come to the game

she said yes

can you get her a ticket pleasee. all the good ones sold out

freckles 💗

who is sash??

you

sasha..??

jessie just came back from training, already having taken her after practice shower and changed into some sweatpants and a hoodie. she wanted to be ready to facetime all night, no interruptions. she wasn't expecting you to text her about sasha; at least not like that. after last night, jessie almost prayed for you to text her the next day that you were coming alone. she didn't expect you to text that you invited sasha to her game. and now you're giving this blonde chick nicknames? all jessie can do is roll her eyes. she fights the urge to lie and say that she couldn't get any tickets; that the game is fully sold out, but she knows you would catch that lie easily. while jessie's thinking about it, her phone vibrates with another text from you.

you

im going to get in the shower

text me yes or no

if yes send the ticket 🙏 ur a lifesaver if yes

your text makes jessie sigh. she doesn't want to disappoint you even if it kills her. around ten minutes after you sent that text, she starts to ask around if she could get a ticket for the game. claiming it was for "a friend" she cringed saying that, but regardless. it wasn't hard to get a ticket, she is a player after all.

you get out of the shower an hour later. you're drying your hair as you move over to your bed to grab your phone; noticing a text from jessie. you smile as you read,

freckles 💗

i got one

*photo attachment sent*

you can give it to her when she comes down with you i guess

i'll just give it to you

you click on the photo, zooming in to see what seat sasha will be sitting at. your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you realize the seat on her ticket is on the other side of the stadium, away from you.

you

bro jess

that ticket isn't even near me 😭

freckles 💗

you didn't say anything about wanting the ticket to be near you

be clearer next time what 👎👎

you

be so serious..

jessie facetimes you and obviously you answer. now sitting down on your bed, your phone propped up against a plushie near your pillow. you sitting slightly to the side, trying to braid your hair. once jessie phone connects, she's pouting, "i can't see your face."

"yes you can, jess," you giggle. jessie pouts gets worse, "hardly.."

"you're such a baby," you look at the screen to see jessie resting her face against one of the hotel bed pillows, her hair a little messy and out of a ponytail. the sight makes you giggle again; how she's looking is just proving your point. jessie is a baby.

"i'm not a baby. just miss you..wanna see you," she says softly. being away from you without talking much was already tiring her out. she wasn't used to it, if you two could be on the phone all day she would. the second you step foot into san diego, you aren't getting rid of her. irritation bothers her mind again as jessie remembers that you invited that blonde to come see the game. she smiles when you say, "miss you more. i feel so bad. it's my fault we haven't been talking and seeing eachother as much."

"blame ucla, isn't that what you said earlier?" jessie jokes, "no but seriously, it's not your fault. you're just so hardworking. it's admirable"

"i know jessie fleming isn't calling someone else hardworking," you joke back. trying to hide how jessie's compliment makes you smile so hard; it's her favorite thing to tease you about. she was addicted to complimenting you it seemed. the canadian always had something good to say about you, it's a habit she gained back when you two became friends in elementary.

she scoffs, "i swear you work harder than me." right after saying that she yawns. you don't even try to argue with her. knowing how stubborn jessie can be sometimes. you yawn too, the day was tiring enough and seeing jessie makes you even sleepier. you read somewhere about how people get all sleepy around others who make them feel safe? yeah, that's what's going on here. too bad you weren't in her arms right now, instead talking to a screen. you get up out of bed, going out of the frame to go cut off the light before coming back to lay on your bed. shifting to be in a similar position as jessie.

"god, now you're copying me? you're obsessed," she jokes, making you roll your eyes. "be so serious with yourself. you are the one always wearing my clothes."

"alright. i can't argue against that," jessie yawns again. you decide this is the best time to talk about the ticket situation before jessie ends up dozing off like she always does. you shift again, pressing your face against your pillow as you pull up the cover; making your lips slightly pouty. jessie smiles seeing you all pouty and sleepy. she couldn't wait to see you in person. too bad that smile doesn't last long as you say, "why would you get sash seats so far away from me? that woman is going to be so lost."

the canadian scoffs, not wanting to talk about this right now or talk about sasha in general, ever. she curses how kind you are; why can't you just not care about this blonde girl? like you don't even know her truly. "that's the ticket they gave me when i asked. don't blame me, all the seats around you were sold out," she pushes away your concern nonchalantly.

"and since when was blondie, sash?" she asks. it's your turn to scoff, remembering how sasha said only people who don't know her called her blondie, you say, "since today. and why do you call her blondie?"

"because i don't know her name."

"you literally called her sasha the other night."

"not my fault that it's forgettable. it's not like she's my friend," jessie says, not adding in how sasha isn't your friend either. you stop yourself from rolling your eyes at her childishness. it was funny and adorable, but slightly annoying.

"ugh, alright, freckles. i'll drop it before i annoy you to death," you roll your eyes once jessie smiles. she thanks you before the conversation falls into talking about how she failed a push-up contest earlier.

you and sasha fly out to san diego the day of the match. unfortunately college made it a little hard to come out earlier than saturday with you having an exam on thursday, but still you two make it.

checking into the same hotel as the canada national team at around six, an hour before the game. getting from the airport to the hotel was easy but the traffic was not fun. at least it wasn't as bad as la traffic, but still horrible.

you're standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom of your shared hotel room with sasha. you texted jessie earlier before you boarded the plane that you would be there with her text back a quick okay since she was busy preparing for the game. there wasn't a need to text her that you were here, it's not like she would be able to answer it.

"wow, you betrayed me. canada really?" sasha playfully says as she walks into the bathroom. wearing a usa jersey that has s.mewis on the back while you're wearing your usual fleming canada jersey. you smile as you tease back, "i'm canadian. what did you expect? you betrayed me actually. really, usa?"

sasha shrugs, leaning against the bathroom counter, "gotta support the fellow tall blonde. sammy is a total beast." you just smile and don't argue back. what could say? sam mewis is a force on the pitch. it's been years since you played and even you knew that.

you finish getting ready after almost fifteen minutes. with sasha coming in and out of the bathroom while explaining that she actually really enjoyed the usa when they played, but is just a casual fan. you two leave out of the hotel room with just enough time to grab a drink before going to the stadium.

"sorry that your ticket is like so far from me. jessie couldn't get one closer," you say to sasha as you sit beside her in y'all's uber. the blonde woman takes it well, just saying that she will catch you after the game. you explain to her that you two are going to go down on the pitch after, so she shouldn't leave and go back to the hotel.

"forgot your bestie was a bigshot," she says when you two reach the stadium. shutting the car door after you get out of the backseat. "yeah. freckles is just that good," you smile, pulling sasha along to one of the entrances. once you two go inside, y'all split up. sasha joking that she'll see you on the other side which makes you laugh.

when you reach your seat, you get comfortable. sipping on your strawberry drink as you wait for the match to get started. the stadium has a nice amount of fans, with you even noticing that some seats around you are empty. shaking your head as you think about jessie's excuse last night; all the seats around you were sold out? as if. speaking of jessie, you spot her on the pitch. she waves once you two's eyes meet. quinn, who's beside her, waves as well. giving you a heart gesture that you return.

soon enough the game starts. it's fast and intense with players on both sides being aggressive in their own right. jessie even scores a goal for canada which makes you scream. she gives you a smug smile when she passes by where you are in the stands, making you roll your eyes. the match continues on with you screaming a bit more everytime things got too intense. the score line ends up being seven to six; the usa scoring a last minute goal to secure the win. your eyes look at the usa players fall into a group hug before looking around the pitch at the canadian players who obviously didn't look as overjoyed.

fans start to leave the stadium after some of the players walked around to interact. jessie is still far off somewhere on the pitch while you get out of your seat and walk over to the stairs of your part of the stands. leaning against the railing, trying to look around if you can see a certain tall blonde in the rapidly emptying stadium. you don't notice when she comes up to you. she playfully pushes your arm as she says, "told you the usa would win."

"yeah, whatever. canada is going to get y'all back next time," you tease back. you two stand near the bottom of the stairs, right where the pitch meets the tunnel. it takes a bit but jessie starts to make her way over to you. a bright smile on her lips. you can tell how excited the freckled woman is by her fast walking, making you giggle. when she gets close enough you walk onto the pitch to meet her. pulling her into a hug, your arms wrapping around her neck. sasha walks onto the pitch behind you but stays a few steps back.

"god, missed you," jessie's words come out half muffled as she nuzzles her face into your neck. her hands holding onto your waist. you sway a little, saying, "missed you more." soon jessie pulls her face out of your neck, still hugging you as she rests her head onto your shoulder. sasha and her eyes meet; jessie's hands moving lower onto your lower back, rubbing at the skin there with one of her hands going underneath the fabric of the fleming jersey you have on. the other resting on top of it.

"ew, your hand is all sweaty.." you mumble against her ear. jessie just chuckles, partially at your small disgust and partially at how sasha's eyes glance from where jessie's hands are on your body then back to meeting the canadian's eyes. the soccer player gives sasha a smug smile right before you pull away from the hug. you don't stray too far though, interlocking your hand with jessie's afterwards.

you pull jessie closer to sasha. smiling as you say, "sorry sash. we haven't seen each other in a while, so i got distracted." sasha nods, a small smile on her lips that don't really meet her eyes. she's about to speak when jessie cuts her off, "yeah, sorry.. savannah..? we just get carried away sometimes. i just been missing my bestfriend so much." you gently smack jessie's arm which makes her let out a soft ow. she looks at you and you look back.

while you and jessie are looking at each other, having a silent conversation with just eyes alone, sasha is looking at how you two's hands are interlocked. the way your thumb is rubbing on one of jessie's fingers; the way jessie gives your hand a light squeeze. her eyes look back up when jessie speaks, "sorry for forgetting your name. with the game and all, i'm just so tired."

"oh no, it's fine. we haven't even met really so i get it," sasha says. you let out a sigh of relief. just thankful sasha didn't take any offense; being rude to the only person in your entire lecture who actually talks to you would not be a good outcome. the conversation soon falls away into something else, with everyone wanting to move away from the awkward interaction.

eventually it's time to head to the bus to get back to the hotel. jessie doesn't let go of your hand once as she walks with you to the bus. sasha trailing behind. jessie stops next to the bus, glancing at sasha before saying to you, "are you going to come on the bus with me? everyone wants to see you and we were going to stop by this donut shop nearby that i know you'll like, i don't know where we're going to park such a huge bus, but we'll make it work i guess?"

you let out a giggle at her last sentence before considering jessie's question for a moment. stopping yourself from saying yes right away; jessie and donuts? you wanted to say yes badly, but then you looked behind you to see sasha and remembered that you didn't come to san diego alone.

"can't, jess. i don't want to let sasha take an uber alone. it's evening time," you explain. the blonde woman smiles hearing how you are so considerate. jessie wants to pull that smile off her face; what is she even smiling for? it wasn't some over romantic gesture. you're just a nice person. that's why blondie is here anyways because you want to be nice to people who frankly don't even hold value to you. jessie pushes away her annoyance, just saying, "okay. better come to my hotel room the moment i get to there, you have to get your donut." you smile and nod, pulling jessie into a hug before letting her go onto the bus.

sasha and you walk back to one of the entrances of the stadium. waiting for around five minutes for an uber, you hold the door open for sasha to let her in first and then you get in after.

the ride back to the hotel is awkward, but alright. you wanted to apologize for basically leaving sasha out the moment jessie appeared, but you thought that bringing it up would make everything else worse. while in the uber, sasha asks you a question, "there's this pizza place near the hotel that i been wanting to go to. never had the chance, college and all but i was wondering if you wanted to go. like tonight."

"tonight?" you look at sasha, seeing a hopeful look in her eyes. that look sealed your fate the moment you saw it; you been blowing her off all day, she deserves this one thing, right?

"yeah, sure."

you two reach the hotel before the canadian national team bus does. after going to y'all's hotel room and changing out of your match outfits. you slip into one of jessie's t-shirts and some jeans. while sasha is changing in the bathroom into a yellow sundress. while you're sitting on your bed, waiting for sasha, you get a text from jessie that the team is back at the hotel.

"i'm going to go see jessie! she's here! i'll be back soon though, i swear," you shout out towards the bathroom before leaving out of the hotel room quickly. not even catching sasha's response. you find jessie's room, the freckled woman standing there next to her door. she must have put her bag inside of her room because it wasn't anywhere near her. she's holding two donuts, smiling when she sees you walking towards her, "gotchu your favorite. had to fight off ashley for it."

"you could've let her take it. we could have shared," you take your donut, taking a small bite. you enjoy it for a moment before remembering you have come here on a mission. "okay, jessie, listen.." by your tone jessie can already tell you're about to say something she wasn't going to like.

"sasha asked to go to this pizza shop that she's been wanting to go to for so long and i have been ignoring basically all day and i feel so bad, so i'm going to go with her but once i get back, i'm sleeping in your hotel room," you say. jessie lets out a soft groan at hearing that you were going to technically blow her off for blondie. that tall chick couldn't have to want to go to that place that bad. she does smile hearing you say that you'll come sleep in her room after, but still, she wanted you for the whole night. not as some afterthought.

jessie shakes her head before saying, "i don't wanna impose but can i come along? you know i'm always hungry after games." that sentence wasn't even a lie she made up to join in on your little pizza date. you knew how hungry jessie got after every game especially if she was a starter.

"your appetite can never be squashed. whatever, c'mon," you laugh, pulling on her arm to bring her along with you down the hall.

"i haven't even eaten my donut yet and neither have you!"

"we'll snack on the way to the room!"

"what about my clothes? i have to change, i don't even have my hoodie on anymore."

"god jessie, you steal my clothes any other time. just borrow again."

you two bicker like usual all the way on the walk to the hotel room. the donuts are half gone by the time you two reach it. "so is sasha like in the room on the left or right of yours?" jessie asks. you give her a look, about to tell her that actually sasha and you got a joint room, but you don't even have to as sasha opens the door.

jessie stares blankly from sasha to you to sasha to you and finally landing her glance on you.

"what..?" jessie doesn't even hide the irritation in her voice, this was really starting to piss her off now.

author notes: woww another cliffhanger 😱😱 i hope y'all liked it because i enjoyed writing it, tell me your thoughts about it too 💔💔 all the engagement was fun last time

© THINKINGABOUTJAEDYN

[pies-writes-and-more]

just friends

word count: 5,393

pairing: Akaashi Keiji x Fem!Reader

warnings: literally all fluff. maybe some swearing lol 

a/n: this literally was supposed to be a short fluffy drabble and turned into a full on fic haha. I wrote a lot of this while I was half asleep so please excuse any spelling mistakes haha. I hope you guys like it! 💕 gif below isn’t mind, creds to the original creator!

haikyuu masterlist

Your window was only open slightly, meant for allowing the cool air to flow in, while also aiding for a certain somebody’s quick escape if it came down to that.

The Fukurōdani Academy Group Summer Camp started tomorrow. Well. Today, if you count the fact that it was already 2AM.

It had originally been 11PM. 3 hours ago, Akaashi Keiji had crawled up the side of your house and tapped his knuckles ever so softly on your window. It had freaked you out for a second until he texted you “Lemme in”, to which you then moved to the window to greet him with a confused look.

“Akaashi, if my parents hear you-” you started, glancing over your shoulder and hoping they hadn’t somehow managed to get to your bedroom door without you noticing.

“Then stay quiet and help me in,” he shrugged, slowly plopping into your room and smiling down at you. “How’s your evening?”

You just stared at him, “Akaashi, it’s late!” You hissed as he crawled into your bed and got comfortable like he was meant to be there. “What’re you doing awake anyways? Don’t you have to be up early for your training camp?”

Akaashi just gave a hum and a nod, patting the other side of the bed he wasn’t currently occupying and giving you a smile. You rolled your eyes and tucked yourself in next to him. It didn’t matter that the two of you were slightly squished, if anything your bed actually felt comfier this way.

Without any more questions, you and Akaashi laid there for hours, whispering as the time ticked by. Your legs slowly tangled together under the sheets and you fit in his side as if you were made to be there.

“What’re you thinking about?” Akaashi asked suddenly, his voice coated with fatigue, eyes lazily opening to look over at you and your pensive expression. It had been so long between topics, you had actually started to think he had fallen asleep.

“What do you mean?” You smiled back at him, your fingers still tracing along the lines on his palm like you had been for the past 10 minutes.

“You’re too quiet to be not thinking. And you’re obviously not sleeping. So what’re you thinking about?” Akaashi explained, interlacing your hands together for a moment. Just to see how they fit.

“Why did you come?” You questioned after a moment, turning to really look him in the eyes this time. Akaashi had such a soft demeanour about him tonight, a gentleness that you hardly ever saw when he and Bokuto were getting up to their usual mischief. But he was always kind and sweet to you, always took a moment of his day to tuck your hair behind your ear, or pluck a piece of fluff off your shoulder. Always put his plans on pause to ask you about your day, texted you about life and school and plans for the future.

His future included nationals. Playing in front of crowds and cameras, screaming fans and loud cheers. His future included volleyball. But you always wondered if there was room for you in that future too.

Akaashi paused, watching your eyes and for a moment, you could’ve sworn he had looked at your lips, a flicker of something different crossing his eyes. “I needed to see you.”

He said it so casually. As if this was normal. As if it was normal for a guy to crawl into a girl’s bedroom and lay in her bed like they were already married.

“I see you practically every day when we’re at school,” you pointed out, brushing a piece of hair from his eyes and trying to determine what he was really thinking because lord knows you could never tell.

Akaashi just stared some more at you, eyes slowly blinking from exhaustion. “I’ll be busy the next few weeks. With volleyball. And I know you’ve got plans for the summer too. I just... wanted to see you before I got all busy. I wanted to just be here with you and pretend like i could come back here.”

“You could,” you added quickly, maybe a bit too quickly, because then he looked at you with surprise. “I like it when you come by,” you admitted to him quietly, sitting up slightly in your bed. “I’m going to miss you while you’re all busy this summer.”

“I can make time,” Akaashi said hurriedly, his teeth tugging on his lips as he sat up with you. “For you. I can make time.”

You look at him with a smile, his thumb grazing over your hand again as he interlaced your fingers together once more. The two of you sat there, both wanting to ask the hovering question that sat buried in your throats.

What are we?

We’re friends, you’d always insist to your friends.

But friends don’t come crawling into your room at the middle of the night to hold you and hold your hand.

We’re just friends, Akaashi had told the team before with flushed cheeks.

But no friend of Akaashi’s had ever made him so nervous, Bokuto pointed out. And friends don’t stare at each other across the room the way you two do.

What are we?

“You should go,” you pointed out as you felt the tensions rising, glancing at the clock. It was almost 3:30AM now. Maybe it was sleep exhaustion or maybe you were just tired of never knowing what you were to Akaashi, but you knew if you didn’t get him out of your room now, you might end up spilling your guts to him.

Had she felt me try to get the courage to confess? Akaashi wondered as he gathered his things, moving to leave from the window again. But not before he wrapped you up into another hug, pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead. Do friends give forehead kisses?

“I’ll miss you,” he stated as he started to climb out the window.

“It’s not like you’re going across the world,” you teased with an awkward sort of laugh. “I’ll come see you guys maybe. When you’re not too busy.”

It could’ve been your imagination, but he seemed to lighten up at this idea. He nodded and pulled his backpack off for a moment to pull a hoodie from it. “To keep you warm when I’m not around,” he told you as he handed it to you. So casual. Like this was just something friends do.

“T-Thanks,” you tried to hide your smile, tried to hide the fact that you wanted to squeal out like a little girl. You held onto the hoodie as he gave you another little wave and crawled out of your house. You held it tighter as he landed on the ground, looking up at you and smiling at you like you were his romantic interest.

Do friends look at each other like that?

When he disappeared from view, you held the hoodie to your chest, smiling as you smelt his cologne or body wash or whatever the hell it was that made Akaashi smell like Akaashi. You crawled back into bed after closing your window tightly and turning off the lights, still gripping onto the hoodie he had left with you.

Do friends miss each other almost immediately after they’re gone? A few days later and there was Akaashi crawling through your window again. You heard the knock on the glass and found him with a tired smile on his face.

“Are you just going to keep visiting me in the middle of the night?” You asked with a giggle, watching him flop into your bed and open his arms asking you to join him.

“I have to look at sweaty annoying boys all day. What’s wrong with seeing a pretty girl every now and then?” He asked as you crawled in. Do friends say things like that to each other?

“Aw it can’t be all that bad,” you insisted, avoiding his eyes as you tried to wave off the compliment. “Bokuto is rather nice to look at.”

Akaashi huffed a bit, tickling your sides briefly until you reminded him in a harsh whisper that your parents were asleep. “Stop thinking about another boy while I’m here with you,” he stuck his tongue out at you playfully.

“Sorry I’ll stick to thinking about them when you’re not around,” you teased, making him poke at your side some more.

Did friends get jealous that easily?

“Why did you come?” You asked him after a while, tracing soft lines with your finger tips down his cheek and jawline, as if carefully measuring out a masterpiece because that’s exactly what he was. “Is the training camp really that bad?”

“Nah it’s alright. It’s fun getting to play with some new teams. Bokuto gets all excited about showing off his skills,” Akaashi responded softly, his eyes closing slowly as the two of you spoke.

“Aren’t you sore? From all your games?”

“Extremely. I’m not going to feel my legs tomorrow that’s for sure.”

“You shouldn’t have walked all this way then, idiot. You’re going to tire out your legs even more.”

“It’s worth it if I get to see you,” his voice was so quiet you weren’t even sure he actually said it. You looked up at him and found his eyes open again, watching you as if gauging your reaction.

Did friends make you feel like your heart would beat out of your chest? Do friends walk all the way to your house in the middle of the night after exercising all day?

What are we?

You wanted to ask, the words forming at your lips. The question was begging to be answered, pleading at your vocal cords to produce some sort of sound.

But what if you were reading into things?

What if friends really do all the things you wondered about? What if you weren’t exactly friends but weren’t anything more either? What if Akaashi saw you as a placeholder. A warm body to be everything a girlfriend could be until he found someone actually worthy.

What if you really were just friends?

Akaashi left a few moments later, groaning softly as he stretched and giving you another exhausted smile as he insisted he’d be back some other time. He traded sweaters with you, pulling out a brand new one for you from his bag and taking the one he had left earlier.

“I’m okay with this one Akaashi, why are you giving me another?” You asked confusedly.

He shrugged and you could’ve sworn there was a blush on his cheeks, “Just cause.”

He wrapped you up in a hug, pressed another kiss to your forehead and slipped out the window. Then spent the whole walk back shaking his head at himself for not saying what he wanted to say.

“Because I like how my clothes smell like you after you wear them,” he spoke aloud into the quiet night. “Because I wanted a part of me to always be with you. Because I don’t want you thinking about Bokuto, I want you thinking about me. Because I wanted to walk all this way to tell you how I felt and I chickened out again.”

The reasons piled into his head and he angrily kicked at some rocks as he walked. Why was it so much easier to think of why when he walked away?

“Because I want to know what we are,” he whispered to himself, stopping his footsteps and staring at the sky for a moment before walking further from you.

More days passed and you couldn’t help but feel disappointed when you didn’t hear from Akaashi as much. He was busy. You were busy. Everyone was busy, you told yourself. It’s not like he forgot about you. Or that he decided to ghost you.

It’s not like he found someone else. It was a volleyball training camp, who could he have found?

You wanted to tell yourself that there wasn’t anyone else and even if there was, it’s not like you had a claim to him anyway. You and Akaashi were just friends.

But you still waited for him every night, looking out the window in hopes he’d come.

Finally you heard a little tap at your window, and there was Akaashi with another tired grin. He seemed like he was glowing more than usual. He seemed bigger, more toned under his jacket.

“I missed you,” you told him shyly and the two of you curled back under the sheets together again.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, pressing his lips briefly against your forehead. “I got all caught up in training and even after the day is gone, everyone still wants to practice. Even that blond boy from Karasuno seems like he’s getting into it.”

You smiled and nodded, thinking about the few texts that Akaashi seemed to get out to you when he wasn’t so busy, “I’m sure everyone’s training hard for Nationals.”

Akaashi nodded and smiled, shifting so he was lying on his back and staring at your ceiling, “It’s getting really close. We got to be the best we can be.”

“You’re already really good. But I know you guys will win it all,” you beamed up at him excitedly. It was one of your favourite things, watching them play. And these National games always came with such excitement.

“Only if you’re there cheering us on,” Akaashi glanced at you, as if he had asked if you were coming and waiting for you to confirm.

“Of course,” you nodded up at him. “I wanna watch my boys beat everyone! Wipe the floor with them!”

Akaashi smirked and held onto you a little tighter, fingers dancing along your skin gently.

Did friends send tingles up your spine when they touched you? Because you hadn’t noticed it with anyone else but him.

“I can’t stay long tonight, love,” he whispered to you softly after an hour of whispered conversations passed. “I told Bokuto I’d wake up early with him and get some more practice.”

You nodded understandingly, though your heart felt a little as he started to move, “After your camp, maybe we can start doing all those summer things you wanted to do. When you’re not practicing of course.”

Akaashi chuckled and nodded, “Sure. Ice cream, find a beach, go swimming, whoop your ass in a water balloon fight,” he listed off.

You rolled your eyes, shoving his shoulder back as you insisted that he was definitely going to lose a water balloon fight.

His hands grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you into another hug. This time a bit tighter, like he was scared you were fading away, “I’m sorry I can’t stay,” he murmured to you, pulling away slightly to look down at you. “But I promise I’ll come see you soon.”

Why did everything he say always seemed like something a boyfriend would say? Do friends say things like that?

“I know you’re busy, Akaashi, don’t worry,” you told him with a small shrug, staring at your hands nervously.

“Y/N...”

There was something in his tone... something so foreign. You looked up at him and saw nervousness in his eyes, his hands sliding down your arms to hold your hands.

“Yea?”

Akaashi cleared his throat awkwardly, his eyes glancing between yours and your hands.

“I- We...” he started.

What are we?

Three words.

Or maybe he should ask what you wanted you two to be?

Is that too much? Is that too pushy?

What if you didn’t think there needed to be anything more to this relationship? What if he was overthinking it? What if this was just for fun and you really were into Bokuto?

“Are you okay, Akaashi?” You asked after a moment of him stuttering.

“Yeah... we’ll do all those things and more,” he finally managed out, his eyes avoiding yours more now. “Promise.”

You nodded slowly, wishing he would keep holding your hand as you two moved away from each other. He traded sweaters with you again, pressed another kiss to your forehead, and disappeared into the night.

You spent the night wondering what he had started saying. Why was he so nervous tonight? What was it about tonight that made him so awkward? You hadn’t seen Akaashi nervous in a lot of situations. He was always so calm, but not tonight for some reason. Could it be that he was nervous… just like you were? Could it actually be that you two were something other than just friends?

It was the last day of the summer training camp and the smell of cooking meat made Akaashi’s mouth water. He looked around him, carefully calculating exactly what kind of meats he wanted to grab off of the barbecues. He and Komi chatted with Tsukishima briefly about their baby Ace’s tantrums, Akaashi smirking to himself as he watched his idiotic best friend going around with Hinata, drooling over the lunch. 

“When Bokuto told me to swing by for lunch, this isn’t quite what I expected.”

There was a little lurch in Akaashi’s chest, hearing that voice. He swung around to see you standing there, Suzumeda giving you a little wave after she had shown you to where the team was. “Glad you could swing by! It’s not every day we get to hang out with Akaashi’s friend,” she snickered, a teasing tone in the way she said friend. 

You and Akaashi both just looked at her funny before turning back to each other, a smile on your face, “Did you miss me?”

Akaashi just gave you a little smirk, grabbing you by your wrist and pulling you into a hug, “Obviously.” He smiled down at you. “Sorry, did you say Bokuto told you to come?” He asked suddenly, looking around to find a wide smiled owl looking Bokuto behind him.

“I just thought that you’d actually smile a bit if she came by!” Bokuto insisted with a laugh, hands on his hips all proud-like. “Good to see you, Y/N! Must be nice to come by and hang out with Akaashi huh?”

You smiled up at him and moved to pat his head affectionately, “Of course! But I like coming to see you too, Bokuto,” you teased.

Bokuto’s smirk seemed different this time as he gave Akaashi a wink, “Sure but there’s nothing wrong with being here solely for Akaashi so you two have some time together,” he grinn, poking your nose playfully.

Before you could ask him what he meant, questioning his word choices and teasing sort of tone, Bokuto got called across the field, eagerly grabbing a plate with the food.

“Are you hungry?” Akaashi asked, nodding towards the gloriously smelling food. You nodded but stayed at his side, finding the massive groups of boys a little daunting. “I’ll get you something then, you can stay around here.”

“Thank you,” you squeezed his arm gently and he just gave you one of those kind soft smiles before disappearing into the crowd.

“Come on! She’s super sweet, you’ll love her!” Suzumeda was saying, dragging a bunch of girls in your direction. You blinked in surprise, Shirofuku giving you a wave as she also made her way over.

“How you doing, Y/N?” Shirofuku wrapped her arms around you excitedly, squeezing you into a hug. “You should’ve come with us! You could’ve been a big help keeping these boys in line.”

You laughed, shaking your head, “I’m not quite sure I could do what you guys do,” you insisted shyly, smiling at the other girls who were smiling at you. “Hiya! I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” you offered to the new faces.

Soon, you met all the managers from the other schools and it didn’t take long for you all to be laughing and joking about the various attitudes and characters your teams all had.

“Aren’t you hungry, Y/N?” Kiyoko asked suddenly, noting the lack of food in your hand. “We have lots, and I’m sure some of these boys don’t need to have 7 helpings!”

You nodded and glanced behind your shoulder, finding Akaashi yelling at Bokuto for trying to steal all the meat. “Akaashi already said he’d grab me a plate. Figure it’s better than me getting lost in that group,” you pointed out and turned your eyes back to the girls. 

They were all sharing grins with each other, Suzumeda giggling, “Aren’t they adorable?”

You blinked in surprise as they laughed some more, tilting your head, “Who?”

“You!” Ōtaki laughed. “I don’t know Akaashi much but Shirofuku and Suzumeda told me you two really bring the best out of each other.”

You paused a bit more and the Fukurodani girls noted your hesitation, “Sorry, was it supposed to be a secret?” Shirofuku asked with wide eyes. “Leave it to Bokuto to go spilling everyone’s secrets!”

Your eyebrows furrowed more as you glanced between the girls, “I’m so confused. What secret?”

“That you and Akaashi were dating! We heard he snuck away between days here at the summer camp to go see you and that he finally confessed!” Suzumeda explained, her smile getting more and more stiff as you seemed more and more confused.

“Akaashi and I are just friends,” you insisted nervously, heart pounding against your chest. “W-Why would Bokuto tell people that?”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, we didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that! I thought it was pretty obvious you two liked each other,” Kiyoko admitted, the rest of the girls apologizing profusely. You shook your hands in front of each other, insisting that it wasn’t their fault that Bokuto was being dumb again, your face heating up from embarrassment.

You wondered just how many other people Bokuto had been whispering this news to, but it didn’t take long for you to find out. You excused yourself from the girls, saying you were going to find Akaashi and your food, but really just feeling way too embarrassed to look them in the eye.

You met with a few Karasuno third years, Daichi grinning as he told you that Akaashi had mentioned you before and said nothing but good things.

“It’s really great to finally meet you!” Sugawara had chimed in. “Bokuto told us about your new relationship so congratulations! I have to say, Akaashi seems like he’s smiling more that you’re around.”

You quickly insisted to them as well that you and Akaashi were in fact not dating and that you weren’t quite sure why Bokuto had gone round telling otherwise. The third years apologized on their behalf, sheepishly walking back to their team as you excused yourself yet again.

Even some of the Furkurodani boys grinned at you and gave you a thumbs up, thanking you for making Akaashi smile every now and then. As much as you wanted to take credit for those smiles, you weren’t quite sure how to awkwardly tell them that you and their setter were just. friends.

Did Bokuto not realize that you and Akaashi were just friends? Why was he torturing you like this? It’s not like he didn’t know you were constantly staring at his best friend. You wanted to slip away, hide in a corner, because now it felt like everyone was looking at you differently. You were no longer just a friend of the Fukurodani boys, now you were Akaashi’s girlfriend. You wanted that title more than anything, but not like this. And what would he say when he found out? He’d probably kill Bokuto for insinuating that the two of you were dating because you two were just friends. Just. Friends. And nothing more.

You finally managed to find Akaashi, who was giving a weird look to some of the Karasuno boys, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, “-who told you that?” He asked, a slight hint of surprise in his voice.

“Bokuto!” A small redhead grinned widely, catching your eye and his eyes widening, “Your boyfriend is so cool!” He yelled at you before stuffing his face with more food.

Akaashi whirled around to see you, both of you sharing a look of what the hell is going on? “I’m going to kill him,” he huffed as he walked over to you, handing you a plate of food. “I’m sorry I took so long but I piled enough on there for the two of us. But… everyone keeps asking me… questions.”

“About… us?” You asked slowly and he just shifted in his stance, nodding slowly. “Me too. Bokuto seems to have a big mouth for things that don’t exist.”

Don’t exist, the words rang in Akaashi’s head as he tried to remind himself that as much as he wanted, you two weren’t dating. He wasn’t sure why Bokuto had it in his mind that you were, or that he could go telling literally everyone around, but he would kill him first and ask questions later.

“Hey hey hey!” Bokuto yelled, as if he felt you two thinking about him and magically appeared behind you two. “How’s the happy couple!?”

“Bokuto, what did you do?” You groaned, not at all hungry anymore even though the food on the plate still smelled incredible.

“Do?” He asked, tilting his head as Akaashi groaned. “Why do you two look so stressed? It’s a BBQ!”

“Bokuto, you idiot. Why does everyone think we’re dating?” Akaashi asked him, flicking his upperclassman in the head. “What did you do?”

“Aren’t you?” Bokuto asked with a furrowed brow, looking between you two. “I thought all those nights Akaashi snuck away, I thought he finally got up the courage to tell you how he feels,” he told you, an oblivious and concerned look in his eyes. “Did he not tell you?”

“N-No,” you managed to get out, your face feeling hot again. What would it take to just forget all of this happened? To forget that Bokuto just insinuated that Akaashi has feelings for you? It had to be a lie right? Akaashi was going to insist that he didn’t have feelings for you and that you two were just friends. You didn’t want to hear it - you’d give anything to just slip away and forget this whole day ever happened. 

“Bokuto, I hadn’t told her yet,” Akaashi sighed instead, shaking his head. 

“You chickened out again?” Bokuto gaped, patting his friend’s shoulder in comfort. “It’s okay, I’m sure it’ll go great when you finally tell her!” He insisted, as if you weren’t standing right there.

“Tell me what?” You asked quietly, watching Akaashi’s somewhat strained expression. Why did he seem so nervous? What did Bokuto mean when he said Akaashi chickened out again? You didn’t want to believe that all of this meant what you thought it meant because getting your hopes up was terrifying. But you stared at him anyways, waiting for someone to explain to you like you were a child. 

Bokuto just grinned, looking between you two as if watching a film and waiting for the ending. “Go on, tell her!” Bokuto insisted to his friend, nudging him towards you.

Akaashi had a flush on his cheeks and he was starting to avoid your eyes. His weight shifted back and forth on his feet as he played with his fingers, sighing quietly, “I didn’t want to do this in front of everyone, Y/N,” he admitted softly.

Your heart was pounding in your ears. This couldn’t be happening now, could it? You were just friends, you were just friends, you were just friends. The words had been repeating in your head ever since Akaashi had first snuck into your room. You two were only friends - there was nothing more. You had to believe that. Because if there was something more, it meant leaving your heart open to be broken. What if he only liked you because you were available? What if he didn’t really see anything in you? What if he moved away after high school and the two of you drifted apart? Losing a friend hurts, but if you two took the next step and then you lost your friend and a lover? It would be devastating. 

“Stop overthinking,” Akaashi stated after a moment, his eyes finally catching yours and seeing that telltale sign that you were spiraling mentally. He took the plate from your hands, setting it on a nearby table so you weren’t holding it for forever. “I like you. I’ve always liked you. I wanted to tell you that night before the summer camp. And every other time that I came to see you. I’ve been wanting to tell you since that day we spent at the park and you kept picking flowers for me. You don’t make me feel like I need to be anything more than me.” Akaashi swallowed hard as he watched your eyes, feeling a little light headed as the words spilled from his lips. “I know we’re friends. But I don’t want to be just friends anymore, Y/N…”

“You don’t?” You asked softly, biting down on your inner cheek nervously. Was this really happening? Your hands were trembling at your sides, looking up at Akaashi like everyone else had disappeared (though you could still feel Bokuto squirming and squealing beside you, watching the interaction). 

Akaashi just gave you that same smile he always did, taking one of your hands and giving it a squeeze, “I’m tired of always telling people that we’re just friends. I don’t want just any friend in my sweaters and I don’t go climbing into people’s rooms in the middle of the night just because they’re a friend.”

“You did what?” Bokuto gasped, eyes widening but immediately shushing when Akaashi sent him a little glare for interrupting. 

Akaashi took another breath and just shook his head slightly, “I want us to be more than friends, Y/N. So maybe if you’re okay with it, we can start telling people that Bokuto isn’t a liar and that… you are my girlfriend?”

You looked around the space, expecting the sky to be falling or some imaginary creature to randomly show up. Because this had to be a dream right?

“You’re not dreaming, dummy,” Akaashi laughed, seeing the panic in your eyes. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. But I needed this off my chest,” he explained, starting to let go of your hand. You watched as a flash of disappointment crossed his eyes before you grabbed his hand again, squeezing.

“Of course I want to,” you breathed out shakily. “I just… always thought you wanted to be just friends. But I’ve always wanted something more with you.”

Akaashi’s face broke out into the biggest grin you’d ever seen before, pulling you into a tighter hug than he’s ever given you before, actually forcing a breath from your lungs.

“Don’t kill her before your first date!” Bokuto screeched, trying to pry Akaashi’s arms from around you. “God, that took you guys forever! I gotta go tell everyone that I’m not a liar now!” Bokuto beamed, rushing away from the new couple to shout it from the top of his lungs that his best friend finally had a girlfriend.

Akaashi laughed a bit and shook his head, watching his idiotic friend bounce around. “You should eat,” he pointed out after your hug was interrupted by the sound of your stomach growling.

You nodded and smiled up at him, “Only if you eat with me.”

“Of course. Can’t leave my girlfriend to eat on her own now, can I?” He teased, a smile on his face as he realized how easy and natural it seemed to call you that. The two of you walked around before finding a spot to eat, mingling with those around you.

You watched as Akaashi talked to people, so calm and almost unaffected by everything that just happened. But then he’d look at you with a smile, open his mouth for you to feed him and take your hand in his, and you felt like you were falling for him all over again. You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself later thinking about how many people you were going to have to hear “I KNEW IT” from. Because maybe you and Akaashi were just a little bit more than friends.

Okay fine, a lot more.

haikyuu taglist:

@al0ehas​ @aurumk​ @neko-chii1​ @thisnoodlewritesao3​ @satan-ruler-of-hells​ @trashy-simp​ @jeppiet​ @tobi-momo​ @darkvadeeer​ @haikyuutothetop​ @livy384​ @babyshoyo​ @jesssobs​ @b-bakana​

[katyasrussianaccent]

you’re so golden (corpse x reader)

Summary: You’re a faceless youtuber that sings cover songs. What happens when a certain faceless streamer slides into your DMs after you cover one of his songs?

Authors note: Part 3 whoop! I havent written fic in 3 years so Im hoping this is okay. Its about 4000 words, super long, sorry. I also dont play Among Us, but hopefully its not too obvious. Lemme know what you think!

You're nervous, though you aren’t quite sure why. The kind of nervousness that spreads to your feet, causing you to tap your toes against the side of your sofa.

Call you in 15. 

You look at the message again, staring at it till the screen goes blurry. Rubbing your eyes you exhale into the emptiness of your apartment; a feeble attempt at calming yourself down.

Logically it’s stupid to be nervous over a phone call. Logically you know that in the grand scheme of the universe, there are bigger things at hand. But you’re not a logical person, never have been. You’re all heart and emotion, both a blessing and a curse. There’s something intimate about a phone call, to have nothing but someone’s voice on the other end of the phone, talking to you and only you. It was a little scary; to think your purely online friendship with Corpse was going to be taken to a different level. You’re excited to think what that could mean.

“Fucking get it together,” you mutter to no-one as you exhale again, because there’s nothing else to do other than to wait and try to breath. There’s this frantic energy about you; like when you eat fizzy sweets, the flavour buzzing on your tongue. Your ancestors used to hunt wolves and here you were nervous over a single phone call.

The silence in your apartment’s too much now; too noisy. You grab your TV remote, clicking onto Spotify to find something. You’re scrolling so much, none of the artists feeling quite right for the moment before settling on Sufjan Stevens.

The dulcet tones fill the space, and for a brief second, you feel fine. You’re feeling relaxed and then your phone lights up.

Incoming Facetime Audio

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck” you say. Your face feels warm, your heart quickens in your chest. You could just ignore it, say you’re not feeling too good and that would be that, you wouldn’t have to do this. But it’s Corpse, you like Corpse and you’re kind of friends.

You swipe to accept the call, and press the button for speaker. 

“Hey,” you say, cringing at the meek tone your voice has taken on.

“Hey,” Corpse’s deep voice rumbles through your tiny speaker, distorting slightly and you press the volume button to turn it down a little.

There’s a beat of silence, a beat too long, and you already hate how awkward this is. You’re not great at social stuff, the concept of being a social butterfly is almost foreign to you. And it’s not because you dislike people, it’s just you hate this; the small talk, the awkwardness before you get comfortable and can hold an actual conversation.

You suddenly remember a tip from your customer service days. “How are you?” you ask, plastering on a grin so wide that it must look borderline demented. Thank god you’re single. 

“I’m okay thanks, how are you?” he asks.

You lounge back against the soft cushions of the sofa, lifting the phone up to your mouth as you do so. “I’m good, excited to be taught by the Among Us master.”

He snorts in disdain. “Hardly a master.” 

You chew your lip before you speak again, “I dunno, people on the internet think you’re pretty good.”

He snorts again, and you smile at the sound. It’s not something you’ve heard from him before, through your hours of watching his streams, you’ve become accustomed to his voice and the noises he makes. But this one seems to be new. And maybe it’s the weird, selfish part of you that likes to think he’s only ever made that sound for you. You shake the thought out of your head, because really? Getting happy over a snort is really such a ridiculous thing to do. 

“People on the internet say a lot of things.”

“True, but sometimes they speak the truth,” you reply, moving to get more comfortable; tucking your feet under your thighs. You wonder what he’s doing right now as he talks to you, is he sitting down? Or is he lying on his bed; his head propped up with pillows? There’s a brief flash of yearning, of wanting to be there in the same room as him, but it disappears as quickly as it appeared so you ignore it.

“Hm. We’ll agree to disagree.”

“Okay, you’re the boss Mr Husband.”

He chuckles softly, and again, you smile. You can feel yourself getting annoyed with yourself; you’re acting like a child with a crush; smiling at the phone. All you needed now was a notebook that had Mrs YN Husband written all over it.

“You know if you keep calling me that, we’re gonna have to get married,” he says, his voice a little lower than it was before. You blink and cock your head to the side, looking at an imaginary camera like you’re in The Office. Did you say that out loud? Is he...flirting with you? Sure, you’re flirty over Twitter, but it’s Twitter, Twitter isn’t real. There’s a fluttery feeling in your stomach at the mere prospect that he might actually be flirting with you.

“I’d be the best wife you could ever get,” you shoot back. There’s a brief second of silence before he answers, and you can hear shuffling on the other end. You want to ask what he’s doing, but you know it would break the conversation, and you’re curious to see where this goes.

“Oh really? And why’s that?” he asks, and you can picture the smirk in his voice. You have no idea what he looks like, no real care about it either, but you bet he’s got a beautiful smile. You bite your tongue before it tells him this, for once your brain actually works and stops you from making a fool out of yourself. It’s incredibly strange, how quickly he puts you at ease without a try, he’s just so naturally comforting. He’s not this flashy persona, he’s just a guy who likes to play video games and happens to be kinda good at them. And also has a voice that is literally like chocolate. Not just chocolate; dark chocolate. If dark chocolate could talk, it would sound like Corpse.

“Cos your girl can cook,” you say proudly, puffing out your chest a little. And that’s not a lie, you can cook. Okay, you’re not a Michelin starred chef, but you feel quite confident in the fact that Gordon Ramsey could eat your food, and probably (hopefully) wouldn’t scream that it was “fucking raw”. 

“And what would you cook for me?” he asks. 

You hum in thought for a second. “You’ll have to marry me first to find that out.”

He laughs, a proper laugh that settles in your stomach, spreading warmth through your chest. “I’ll think about it. I can hear music, what are you listening to?”

You straighten up a little, the question catching you off guard. You bite the inside of your cheek as you look at the song that’s playing. It’s not his type of music, you’re almost positive about that. You almost don’t want to tell him out of embarrassment. You’re not sure why you feel embarrassed; you know Corpse isn’t an asshole, he wouldn’t make fun of you. But music is so personal to you, so personal, it’s like baring a piece of your soul; which sounds so fucking cliche, but it’s true.

“Uhhh...It’s called Make out in My Car by Sufjan Stevens,” you reply.

He hums in affirmation. “It sounds nice; from what I can hear.”

“I can turn it up?” you ask, leaning forward to grab the remote off the coffee table.

“You could always sing some for me,” he offers. 

You laugh a little, scrunching up your nose. “And why would I do that?”

“I thought you wanted to get married. You have to woo me,” he replies.

“Woo you?” you ask, your tone incredulous. This isn’t how you pictured the conversation going.

“Yeah. Woo me, yn.” he says, dragging out the “o” causing you to laugh again.

You sigh dramatically. “I haven’t warmed up or anything, it’s gonna sound so bad” you warn as you put the song to the beginning.

“I’m sure you sound great. Go ahead, woo me.” 

You shake your head as you softly sing. “I'm not trying to go to bed with you, I just wanna make out in my car. And though I'm dying to fall in love with you, I just wanna make out in my car”. You stop and you’re suddenly very aware that you have essentially just serenaded him. Good going, brain.

It’s silent for a beat too long, and the smile that graced your lips starts to fade as the embarrassment starts to set in. 

“Well now we definitely have to get married,” he affirms. And there’s that fluttery feeling again.

You swallow, moving the conversation swiftly onto Among Us. You grab your laptop that was next to you, humming in acknowledgement as he walks you through downloading it. 

“So there’s a few of us joining us tonight, it should be really fun.”

“Oh. It’s not just us two?” you ask. You focus on the download, watching the number increase. You’re nervous at the prospect of playing with other people, strangers, for the first time. 

“No, it’s a 4 player minimum. We’re going to stream as well.”

“Corpse…” you start. You begin to pick at the skin around your nails, a habit you do whenever you get really anxious. This was meant to just be a cute moment where you learnt how to play a game, not a big event where people would be actually watching you, judging your every move.

“We’re going to do a few games off stream with you, you don’t need to be there for the stream after if you don’t want to,” he interrupts. 

“Okay,” you trail off, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip. You feel a little better, but not by much. You didn’t know who the other people were, what if they hated you? You ask this out loud.

“I’ll be there. You know Rae and Sykkuno. Felix, Sean and Toast will be there but they’re super nice, I promise.” His voice is sincere, and it soothes you. You don’t know him, not really know him, but you trust Corpse. You know he has his own struggles, and you believe his promise; he wouldn’t screw you over or put you in a situation you were uncomfortable with.

The rest of the call is him taking you through how to play and how to set up something called Proximity Chat so everyone can talk to each other in the game. He says it’s easier once you actually play, and it doesn’t sound particularly hard quite honestly, you just hope you don’t get imposter on the first try because you’re not the greatest liar. 

The game screen pops up, and you type in the code that Corpse gives you. You say goodbye to Corpse, who tells you to text him if you need any help. You drop into the game lobby, and you look at the little astronaut. There’s no time to dwell as a cacophony of voices hits you.

“YN!” Rae screeches and you chuckle at her enthusiasm. You’ve known Rae for a few years now, you met at college and had become fast friends. Though you had many different interests - gaming for one, you considered her your best friend. Rae was the type of friend where you didn’t need to talk every single day, you could message her a week later and it would be like no time had passed at all. And you loved that, sometimes you just didn’t want to talk to anyone. Sometimes your mood wasn’t the best, and you needed a little time to recharge. And she understood that, something that you were eternally grateful for. 

“Raebies!” you screech back, using your “pet” name for her.

“I’ve been trying to get you to play forever. But Mr Smooth Operator over there slides into your DMs and suddenly you’re a gamer now?”

“It sounds so sordid when you say it like that,” you reply.

“Hi yn! Glad to see you playing with us,” Sykkuno says. You greet him and the others, making sure to say hi to everyone in the game. You didn’t want to start off by being accidentally rude. You listen as everyone talks amongst each other, and you talk when spoken to, but you aren’t interjecting. It wasn’t anything against the other players, it was just a little overwhelming, and you were figuring out what everyone was like.

“Hello,” Corpse’s voice interrupts your train of thought and you greet him along with everyone else. 

“Aw, I wanted purple,” you say, frowning at Corpse’s name above the astronaut.

“We can switch,” he replies.

“No it’s o -” you start to speak before you realise he’s already switched to white. “Thank you, you didn’t have to.” You smile as you switch to purple, and you decide to add a flower for a little pizzazz.

“It’s your first game, I’ll kill you if I get imposter so it’ll even out,” he jokes and everyone laughs. The countdown begins and you puff your cheeks out, exhaling as it gets to 1. You’re nervous again, a seemingly common theme of the night. Your shoulders relax as the word CREWMATE flashes across the screen.

You watch as everyone but Corpse disperses from the cafeteria with haste, and you look at the keyboard to press the buttons to move.

“You ever see an old person text? That’s how I’m picturing you right now,” Corpse says as you walk together to Weapons.

“Shut up Sonny,” you reply in your best old woman voice, getting a laugh. You open up the task, shooting the Asteroids with ease. “Yay, I completed a task!”

“Good job,” Corpse replies, and you beam at the praise. You move down to o2, doing your task while Corpse does his.

“Wait, you could be imposter right? How would I know?” you ask as you walk together to Navigation.

“You wouldn’t, you just have to trust me,” he says, his voice full of charm.

You scowl. “Well that just makes me not want to trust you.” 

Before he replies, there’s a blaring alarm. DEAD BODY REPORTED. You blink at the suddenness; you were really enjoying the relaxing pace of the game. You look at the screen;  Felix has been killed.

“Who found the body?” Corpse asks.

“I did,” Rae answers. “I was in admin, and was going to lower engine and it was there in storage.”

“If you were in admin, why didn’t you go up through Cafeteria?” Toast asks.

“Because it’s quicker to go through storage,” Rae replies. They argue between themselves, and you listen intently and silently. It’s a lot of information, you can’t tell whose lying, but you guess that’s what makes a good player.

“Where were you yn?” Sean quizzes, and it takes you a second to realise you’re being spoken to.

“Oh. I was in um o2?”

“You don’t sound too sure there, pretty sus,” he says. Your face heats up a little, you’re not the imposter, but it feels like you are.

“She was in o2 and then we went to Navigation,” Corpse answers, and you breathe out as he takes on the interrogation.

“Oh you were together?” Rae asks, and you know that tone she’s got. It’s the tone that says she’ll be messaging you right away.

“Well yeah, it’s her first game, I’m not gonna leave her alone,” he says and you smile at that. 

“Yeah we’ve been together the whole time,” you add and it’s left at that. No-one votes anyone out, since no-ones really too suspicious. You carry on the game, and you find yourself really enjoying it, though the questioning part is kind of stressful. You can see why Corpse likes it so much, it’s really fun. You’re in electrical, humming as you do your task when Rae comes next to you. 

“Hey,” you greet her.

“I’m sorry, nothing personal,” she replies. Before you have a chance to say a word, she kills you and you look on in shock as your ghost floats above your body.  You listen into the meeting as Rae continues to lie and plead her case. She’s good, but Corpse knows better.

“Wait, you said you found her in electrical and you were where?” 

“I was in Upper Engine, and then I went to electrical to do my task,” Rae answers, her voice even and calm.

“I was in Lower Engine, and I didn’t see you,” Corpse says, and you grin at the fact Rae’s been found out. That’s what she gets for killing you.

“You were doing your task, I passed right by you,” Rae starts. She pleads her case, but it’s too late and she’s voted out.

“That was so much fun!” you declare. “I can see why you guys play it all the time.”

“Yes! We have converted another!” Felix shouts in victory.

“And all it took was Corpse,” Rae mutters sarcastically.

“Don’t get bitter Rachel, just get better,” you reply, causing the group to laugh.

You get the hang of it after a few games, and find yourself agreeing to stay while the others stream, though you decide against it yourself. You’ve only streamed once by yourself, and it was a very casual affair and you don’t want to feel too much pressure while you enjoy yourself. You know that Corpse gets nervous when he streams and he’s been doing it for so much longer, so you can only imagine how nervous you would be.

You tap your fingernails against the keyboard as the lobby counts down, any previous nerves have been replaced with excitement. 

IMPOSTER flashes across. You’re the only one, your astronaut looks lonely on the screen by itself, and the red letters almost taunt you. 

“Shit,” you mutter as your brain goes into overdrive. What was it Corpse had said before? Not to be too obvious. You don’t kill immediately, instead going at your previous pace to not look too suspicious. You were still fairly new to the game, and you were going to use that to your advantage.

You fake your task in Cafeteria before venting over to Navigation where Toast was.

“Hi Toast!” you greet, coming to stand next to him as you pretend you’re doing the task. 

“Oh hey yn,” he says. It doesn’t seem like he suspects you, and you’re not quite sure when to click the Kill button. You do it anyway before running out and going down and into shields. There’s adrenaline running through you as the dead body’s reported and you crack your knuckles before putting on your game face. You were going to play dumb, play the confused newbie - because to them, that’s what you were. 

“YN, where were you?” Corpse asks. Fuck. Maybe you weren’t going to get away with this.

You twiddle your hair as you draw out your words, playing the role perfectly. “Uhm I was in...shields? I think that’s what it’s called. I was in the cafeteria before that though.”

“Wait, you couldn’t have, I was in weapons. I would have seen you,” Sykkuno says.

You open your mouth to talk. “She could have vented,” Felix comments, and the rest of the group starts to agree.

“Guys, I don’t even know what venting is. I literally just started playing,” you point out, giggling.

“That’s true,” Rae agrees and you knew there was a reason you loved her.

“Bullshit! She’s playing you with her “oh I don’t know how to play” schtick,” Felix proclaims.

“Aw, that’s kind of rude, Felix. I’m just enjoying the game, doing the tasks,” you say, pouting a little. He’s the next on your list. 

Everyone skips the vote and you lean over your laptop, ready for the next round. You were going to win this. You kill Rae and Toast next, and yet again, manage to worm your way out of any suspicion. You can sense that Corpse and Felix are starting to get suspicious of you, and you know you need to bring out the big guns to throw them off.

You catch Sykkuno in Med Bay after checking the cams in Security.

“Hi yn!” he greets, and you almost feel guilty as you kill him. He’s so sweet and innocent, but unfortunately, casualties are a given. You pass Felix as he comes out of reactor and it’s only a matter of time before you’ll have to talk your way out of this one again.

“I passed yn as I came out of reactor,” Felix shouts with a hint of glee.

You roll your eyes; this is going to be tough. “Yeah I came from Upper Engine, I was finishing part 2 of a task.”

“I was in Electrical, where was the body?” Corpse asks.

“Med Bay. And the only one that could’ve been there was yn,” Felix starts.

“Well no, you could have passed me and killed Sykkuno then self reported,” you reply. “I think you can do that right?” 

Corpse hums in agreement. “Oh come on! She’s being really sus,” Felix argues.

“You are being a little sus yn,” Corpse comments.

“Corpse. You don’t really think it’s me do you?” You decide to lower your voice a little, your tone sweet but sultry. “You only taught me like an hour ago, there’s no way I’d be able to fool everybody so quickly.” You get close to the mic so it’s like you’re speaking only to Corpse. “Remember what I said? You’re a master at this.” You’re laying it on thick, and for a brief second you think you’ve been too over the top.

“This is difficult,” Corpse says, and you see the seconds count down, your heartbeat starts to quicken.

“Corpse, stop being a fucking simp and vote her out!” Felix demands.

“Corpsie baby,” you drawl out and you smile in success as you hear him sigh, almost shakily. You’ve got this in the bag. The victory screen flashes up and you cheer.

“Fuck yeah!” you shout, patting yourself on the back. You laugh as you exhale the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Good game yn!” Sykkuno comments, the others agreeing.

“Not fair, you used your womanly wiles against Corpse,” Felix says.

“Gotta use them for something. Not my fault Corpse knows where his allegiance lies,” you reply laughing a little.

You stretch, your back crying out in pain from being hunched over so long. You let out a long, loud moan of relief as you straighten your spine, your shoulders relaxing as you move from side to side.

“Your mic’s not muted” Corpse points out, clearing his throat. You feel your stomach drop and your face instantly becomes hot. Shit. 

“Oh. Uh. I totally forgot about that,” you say, forcing out a chuckle. You screw your eyes shut, any happiness has been now replaced by red hot shame. “So this was fun, uh, really fun, but um, I’m gonna, I’m gonna go. So...yeah. Bye guys, have fun!” 

You click to exit without giving anyone a chance to say a word, and drop your head into your hands. 

“Can’t wait to see what they say on Twitter about this,” you mutter into your hands.

TAGLIST (if youre bold, it wont let me tag): @teenageguitarist @fanworrior  @cherry-piee @mirahg  @clara-bee @cookinglovingalien @vir-tual @clubfairy @youretheonlyonewhomakesme @more-like-reyna @boiled-onionrings @moneybagmgk @brendalopez99 @delicateavenuenacho @dreamsofficialwife @hydrate-tion @little-red02 

[waitimcomingtoo]

Don’t Go Breaking My Heart

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: Toms attempt at impressing you goes very wrong…then very right

Masterlist

“What’s your most embarrassing moment?” Tom read off one of the papers from the bucket before looking at you. “I think it was the backflip. Do you remember that?”

“I don’t remember there being any backflips that day.” You laughed at him, making him roll his eyes.

“Do you see how mean she is to me?” Tom playfully asked the camera. “I think that was my most embarrassing moment but it ended up being the best day of my life.”

“You think that was the best day of your life?” You raised an eyebrow at your boyfriend. “You got hurt.”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Because on the one hand, it was the day I ate shit in front of the girl I liked. But it was also the day we finally got together, which makes it the best day in the history of days.”

“The history of days.” You laughed at his wording as the camera crew laughed as well.

“Was that not a good day for you?” Tom pretended to be offended as he picked up another slip of paper.

“No, no.” You assured. “It was the best day of my life too. But It was also super embarrassing.”

1 year ago

“What are you up to?”

“I’m just stretching for the day. I have to stay limber if I’m gonna keep playing Spider man.” Tom said as he stretched his arms. “Watch this.”

Tom bent down and touched his toes before looking up at you smugly.

“Wow, hot shot.” You snorted. “That’s pretty impressive. Can you do a backflip too?”

“That’s how I got the role, actually.” Tom joked. “Because I can do a backflip.”

“I bet you can’t do one right now.” You challenged him.

“I so can.” He narrowed his eyes at you.

“Nah.” You shook your head. “I bet it’s all CGI.”

“Darling, I’ve been a gymnast all my life.” Tom said smugly. “I can most certainly do a backflip.”

“Hm. No.” You scrunched your nose. “I don’t believe you.”

“All right.” Tom cracked his neck. “Watch me.”

He stepped back and shook out his shoulders, sneaking a glance at you to check if you were watching. You folded your arms and gave him a nod, telling him to go ahead. Tom let out a breath, got in position, and attempted a back flip. Instead of going in a full rotation like he planned, he fell flat on his face. You and Tom heard the crunch at the same time, making you gasp as he let out a groan.

“Oh my God!” You shrieked and crouched down beside him, rolling him over. “Is he dead? Are you dead?”

“Call an ambulance.” Tom groaned as a steady stream on blood ran from his nose.

“Your nose is crooked.” You grimaced as you held his face. “Is it supposed to be crooked?”

“Did I knock my teeth out?” Tom smiled weakly at you, making you laugh.

“No. Your teeth are fine.” You chuckled as you stroked his cheeks with your thumbs. “Are you okay?”

“As much as I’m enjoying you in top of me right now, I’d really appreciate you calling a doctor. My nose feels like it has a heartbeat.”

“Right. Sorry.” You grimaced again. “Can we get a medic over here?”

Within ten minutes, Tom was sitting in his trailer with the medic inspecting his nose. You were sitting by his side, holding his hand and bouncing your leg nervously.

“Is he okay?” You asked the doctor as you squeezed Toms hand.

“It’s definitely broken.” The doctor said as he felt Toms nose.

“Lovely.” Tom sighed.

“Oh my God.” You whined. “Can you fix it?”

“Yeah.” The doctor shrugged. “All I have to do is reset it.”

“Will that hurt?” You asked as you held your intertwined hands to your chest. Tom stifled a laugh at how you were acting, fretting over him like a nervous wife.

“I’ve had this happen before.” Tom assured you. “It doesn’t hurt that bad.”

“Okay, good.” You sighed in relief. “I was gonna say you could keep holding my hand if you needed to but if it doesn’t hurt then-“

“Just in case.” Tom squeezed your hand before you could let go. “You never know how badly something is going to hurt.”

“It’s gonna hurt pretty bad.” The doctor mumbled, making you gasp and Tom give an angry look.

“Oh my God.” You whined. “I can’t believe I did this to you. You’re gonna be in so much pain and it’s all my fault.”

“It’s not brain surgery, darling.” Tom laughed and tucked your hair behind your ear with his free hand. “I’ll be okay.”

“I’m sorry.” You frowned and kissed the back of his hand. “You can squeeze my hand as hard as you need.”

“Okay, I’m gonna fix it in the count of three.” The doctors said as he got in position. He reset Toms nose with a loud crack, making Tom squeeze your hand as hard as he could for your sake. The doctor bandaged Tom up and gave him an ice pack before leaving the trailer.

“This is all my fault.” You sighed as soon as he left. You rested your head on his shoulder and rubbed his arm soothingly. “I’m so sorry.”

“Darling, I hardly think you’re to blame for this.” Tom chuckled as he rested his chin on your head.

“I am.” You whined. “I was trying to flirt with you and get you to do a backflip and now your nose is broken and it’s all my fault.”

“You were trying to flirt?” Tom perked his head up and looked at you curiously.

“Yes and clearly I should never do it again because I put you in grave danger.” You pouted as you stroked his cheek.

“Darling, do I look like I’m in danger?” Tom teased you. “I’m okay. Don’t beat yourself up over this.”

“But you got hurt because of me.” You jutted your bottom lip out and wiped some dried blood off his face.

“It wasn’t your fault.” He insisted as he pulled out his phone. “But I do want to put this on Instagram.”

“Guys, I accidentally broke my nose on set and look at Y/n.” Tom laughed as he looked into the camera. He panned it to you, but you were busy chewing you bottom lip and staring at Tom with guilty eyes.

“I feel so bad.” You pouted as your eyes flicked to the camera.

“It’s okay.” He assured you. “I don’t blame you at all.”

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled as you pulled his face close to yours and pressed kissed all over it. Tom laughed as you did it, feeling his cheeks flush beneath your lips. You pulled away but kept your hands on his face.

“Can I kiss your nose?” You asked cautiously and Tom burst out laughing.

“Go ahead.” He said. “You’re acting like you’re asking for my kidney.”

You ignored his teasing and gave him the worlds most gentle kiss on the nose.

“Did that hurt?” You asked as you quickly pulled away.

“You barely touched me.” Tom chuckled.

“Well I don’t know.” You whined and grabbed the ice pack the doctor left. You placed another gentle kiss on Toms nose before holding the ice pack to his face. Tom, who was busy loving all the attention from you, pulled out his phone again.

“Look at this.” He panned the camera to you. “She’s holding the ice pack to my face.”

“Leave me alone.” You sighed. “I’m guilt ridden.”

“It’s okay.” Tom reminded you as he rubbed your knee. He silently posted the video to document the day as you checked his forming bruise.

“No it’s not.” You sighed again. “Can I get you anything?”

“I’m all right, love.” Tom shook his head. “I just want you to stay here.”

“No. I can’t take this guilt.” You shook your head. “You have to punch me in the face.”

“Why would I do that?”

“To make it even.” You insisted as you cupped his face. “You have to break my nose since I broke yours.”

“You didn’t break my nose.” He reminded you. “If I broke yours, that would be domestic violence.”

“No. It’s only domestic violence if we’re dating.” You told him while stroking his hair.

“I don’t think that’s true.” Tom chuckled, feeling his face heat up again.

“The guilt won’t go away until you break my nose.” You said. “You have to do it.”

“Darling.” Tom cupped your face, making your panic halter. “I would never hurt you. And you would never hurt me. I know that. Don’t you know that?”

“Tell that to your broken nose.” You pouted as you put the ice pack back on his nose.

“Me and my broken nose forgive you.” He repeated. “And we’re not gonna punch you in the face.”

“Then at least let me take care of you today.” You countered. “I’ll take you back to the hotel and stay with you until you feel better.”

Not wanting to admit he felt better already, Tom nodded with a soft smile. He played along as you instructed him to lean on you as you brought him back to the hotel. You helped him on to the bed and he thought you’d leave it there, but he was pleasantly surprised when you climbed in bed next to him.

Tom laid his head in your lap as he held his ice pack to his face. You were running your hands through his hair and twirling his curls around your fingers.

“You do not have to be this nice to me.” Tom said as he gazed up at you.

“Yes I do.” You told him. “I broke your nose.”

“I broke my nose.” Tom reminded you. “You were just a witness to my embarrassment.”

“But I was a leading factor in you breaking it.” You groaned. “I was the number one cause.”

“You were not.” He insisted. “It’s no ones fault.”

“No ones fault but mine.” You grouched as you brushed the hairs off his forehead.

“You’re being ridiculous.” Tom laughed, but he was secretly loving it. “I need Instagram to see this.”

“I wanted to give you guys an update.” Tom said as he held his phone towards you. “She is now in my bed with my and combing my hair.”

“I feel so bad.” You whined for the millionth time as you carded your fingers through his curls.

“I know you do, love. But you don’t have to.” He smiled as he looked up at you. You looked at him for a moment before letting out a whine and leaning down to kiss his forehead. He kept recording as you kissed all over his face, nearing his lips a few times.

“The kisses are appreciated but they’re not going to heal my nose.” Tom chuckled as he sat up a little so you were holding him like a baby.

“They might.” You laughed as you continued to kiss his face. Your lips brushed the corner of his lips and he felt his heart stop for a minute. He started recording again, wanting to memorialize the day forever.

“I keep thinking you’re gonna kiss me.” Tom said quietly as his soft eyes stared into yours.

“I’m about to.” You laughed as you held his face in his face. You stroked your thumb over his cheekbone before leaning down and kissing him on the lips. You pulled away laughing after just a few seconds, leaving Tom completely starstruck.

“I can’t believe you just did that.” He sputtered as your contagious laughter got to him. He laughed too, accidentally posting the video as he let his phone fall on to the bed.

“I’m sorry.” You threw your head back laughing. “I just feel so bad.”

“You kissed me because you feel bad?” Tom asked as he laughter died down, feeling a little disappointed in the reason. You looked away and held back a smile, as well as the urge to say “no Tom, I kissed you because I’m in love with you.”

“What are people saying?” You changed the subject quickly to avoid that conversation.

“What?” Tom regained his composure, still hung up on the kiss.

“Online.” You explained. “I know you’ve been posting the videos. And I know people are talking.”

“Oh.” Tom nodded and scrolled through Twitter, still feeling a little disappointed. “They’re saying we make great couple.”

“What about you?” You asked coyly. “What do you think?”

“About what?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

“About what kind of couple we’d make.” You shrugged casually, but your heart was pounding in your ears. Tom opened his mouth but shut it, trying to decide what to say as he flushed a deep red.

“I don’t know.” He said softly. “All I know is you kissing and holding me all day is something I could get used to.”

“Oh.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as your eyes bore into his. He sat up a little and turned his body to face you.

“Actually, darling.” He continued with a soft tone. “I don’t think I’d ever get used to it. I think if someone like you was loving me, I’d be counting my blessings everyday. I don’t think I’d ever grow accustomed to the goosebumps I get when you look at me.”

“Are you sure you’d want to be loved by someone who broke your nose?” You asked playfully as you raised your eyebrow.

“As long as you don’t break my heart as well, I think I’ll be okay.” Tom smiled gently as he tucked your hair behind your ear. He left his hand there and slowly stroked your cheek with his thumb as he gazed into your eyes.

“I wouldn’t do that.” You shook your head as you kept your eyes on his lips.

“I believe you.” Tom mumbled before leaning in to kiss you. Before your lips could touch, you sharply pulled away and looked at him in a panic.

“Wait.” You shook your head as you collected yourself while a look of disappointment settled on Toms face.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He sputtered. “I thought-“

“You have to tilt your head to the right.” You cut him off. “And I’ll go left.”

“What?” He blinked in confusion, still thinking you didn’t want to kiss him.

“So I don’t hurt your nose any further, silly.” You smiled at him as you leaned in again. He chuckled to himself before tilting his head to the right and leaning in the rest of the way. Your lips connected as you steered clear of his nose and suddenly, all his pain melted away.

Tag List 🏷

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @weirdr-artiest @serendipitous-amor @dummiesshort

@foreverxholland @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison  @andreasworlsboring101 @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @averyfosterthoughts @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @mara-twins @iamaunicorn4704 @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland @rebekkah4766 @flixndchill @sovereignparker @thisisthebiplace @spideydobrik @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave @itscaminow @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild @where-art-thau-romeo @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @parkerboop @smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe @kelieah @kickingn-ames @babeyspidey @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @love-sick-blues @electraheart-3174 @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @spideyanakin @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl @anapocalypseinmymind @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @tomshufflepuff @cookiemonstermusic258

@maybemona @young-romanoff @alexxcorona113 @spideyspeaches @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey @im-still-tryin-to-find-it @big-galaxy-chaos @pandaxnienke @theincredibledeadlyviper  @thestylestour  @officialsimppage @mrvelscaptains @peterbenjiparker @reemusluupin @itsemohours @satanswitchings @okkulta @parkerlovebot @sarcasticallywitty15 @mati4188 @geminiparkers @jungkxxkk @friendlyneighborhood-mendes @whatthefuckimbisexual @olixerwxxd @starkbrain @creatorofthegalaxy @far-from-holland @f-hollands @ilovefrogs1000 @itstaskeen @dreamedforu @itmatteredatthetime @rockyrogers @monimillion @amazinggracy @slutforsebstan @iprobablyshipit91​ @all--that--jazz​

[thithesandofferings]

Yandere FFXV Crew

FFXV being Yandere- Gladiolus/Noctis/Prompto/Ignis/Ardyn/Regis

*Covers eyes* I am not here. But you are. You might as well read. 

:readmore:

TW:  MINORS DNI  Dark Content. Yandere themes. Stalking. Dubious Dubious Consent. Slight Daddy kink. Masochism. Sadism. Slight exhibitionism. Fear play. 

Gladiolus - Geeezzz he's so in love with you. Has been for so long. Just watching you through the castle. He just knows you'd look good in his bed. With a ring on your finger (and neck) crying out his name. He sees the other knights in the castle chatting you up, but he may or may not be standing behind you giving them the death glare. Its only accidental that a couple of knights disappear. Only happenstance that these were the same men that gave you a hard time. When you look at him with needy eyes asking him for help, he has to have you. Wont let you out of his room. Look hes trying to make you feel safe and secure. You may think he's not the kindest when he buckles you in your collar connected to a brick wall and gives you the deepest of kisses. Grips your chin to open your mouth so he has more access- every day before he goes to work. He knows you hate when he leaves and hes gonna make it up to you. He even promised you a baby if youre good. Your eyes are misting, but theres no reason for it. you know he's gonna fuck you into that very same wall when he gets home. Give you all the attention that you've been whining for. "Awww sorry princess, Daddy didnt mean it. Im not letting you go unitl you forgive me".

Noctis- Two words. Cage Beds. Always. He loves you, but he cant trust you as far as he can throw. He was even nice enough to pick the bed with you in the room.  Keeps one leg shackeled at all times when he doesnt have sights on you. Why would you want to get out anyways? Your sole purpose is to serve him. He would never feel bad for taking your life. Its his anyways. He might use the guards to spy on you, and so what? You like to run. And not that he doesnt like to chase you, no, it becomes a hassle when he has duties to fulfill for the kingdom. Playtime is not 24/7 pet and you know this. He has to roll his eyes because it seems that no one understands that not a single soul is allowed to talk to you in any capacity. At this point he's going to have to pay his public executioner more, he's been working overtime. Probably gonna have to fuck your little mouth shut again just to give everyone a break.  He would hope you'll get used to being his possession. Its hardly sexual at this point, especially when he can use you like a malleable toy. You're cute,  but he's really been thinking about...experimentation during his down time. Wonders what you'd do if he held a syringe of anything next to that cute face.  

Prompto - He doesnt mean to be angry. He doesnt. But you just make him so hot, its hard to cipher his feelings out of something so strong. You were so nice and thats why he took you in the first place; but now youre so hurtful. How is he supposed to deal with that- especially when youre saying mean things to him. How could you say something about his humanity! He has it! He definitely doesnt mean to bruise you, gripping your waist so tight that bruises form, its an honest mistake. But he has to prove it to you somehow that he is deserving of you. He adores it when he fucks you so good that you pass out. Pleas and gasp making an abrupt choked noise when your head hits the pillow. Doesnt mean he's gonna stop his hips from moving. He needs to prove to you that you are it. So he'll fuck you awake so he can remind you. No matter how much it takes.

Ignis- Wants to get inside your head first. To be the only thing you think about. Walks by you and sometimes bumps into you. Says he's sorry and touches you. makes sure that your mind drifts to him. He knows exactly where you're going to be at the exact time. Of course he's input cameras into every point in your house and office. He cant keep an eye off you for a second. What if that "partner" from the other cubicle comes by and hassles you again? He sees the way that man looks at you. Distractingly similar to how Ignis himself looks at you. But that guy doesnt care about you. Doesnt know what you like to eat or what flowers you like first thing in the morning. Or that you even prefer to be bent over the desk rather than pressed against the window. Probably doesnt know that your hole squeezes just a little tighter when someone walks pass. Has to press his hand against your mouth when you get a little too loud. Frown deepens when he thrust into you as hard as he can when your "partner" knocks on the door.

Ardyn- He's so giddy when you wake up and his lips are already on yours before your eyes open. He picked up the change of breathing and wanted to be ready for you. He can mark what belongs to him right? Gods he cant wait until he puts bruises on that pretty skin. He wants to hear you whine for him. You may be a resistant now, but you'll come around. They always do. He's seen the way your eyes flutter just slightly when he grasps your throat when youre being just a little too bratty. The way you beg gets him so hard- he wants to fuck you where you stand, but he's trying to be patient. Knows that one day you'll come to him crawling on your hands and knees with that cute little collar, leash in mouth, begging for him to fuck you. He can wait. He's waited this long hasnt he?

Regis- In the name of the throne, it has to be done. You have to be his. Does not matter your standing whether high status or low born. You were supposed to be his. The Gods told him so. Its a shame you were taken from your home by his very guards, but he knew you would have a better life with him. He would treat you right. Give you all the little toys your heart desired. He's wanted you for so long. How dare you ignore him? A king? He'd make sure you never step foot out of the castle again. For your own good. You deserved the best. And you would get the best too wouldnt you? His fingers, his mouth, even his time. He wants those beautiful face writhing in pleasure not pain, but if you dont behave, he'll take either.

[venicebixch]

2 Weeks part 3

more smut. daddy kink, semi-public masturbation, strong sexual language. enjoy!

The next morning I wake up, excited to have the day off. Hopefully Vinnie doesn’t have much planned for the day and we can talk for a few hours.

I roll out of bed and stumble into the bathroom, sitting down to pee. I look down at my underwear and see the dreaded red stain.

I groan loudly. “Fuuuuuuck,” I sigh, irritated. I’m on birth control so I don’t get a period every month but every once in a while I get one and it always surprises me.

I take a quick shower and put new clothes on, then throw myself back down on the bed to FaceTime Vinnie. I hope he answers and isn’t still mad at me.

His face comes on the screen and he just looks at me silently. I can tell he’s still mad but at least he answered.

“Hi baby,” I say extra sweetly to try to soften him up. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine. What about you?”

“Good,” I smile. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“I started my period,” I purse my lips and roll my eyes.

He starts to chuckle. “That would certainly explain last night.”

He’s right. I can get pretty emotional right before it starts. Not every time but sometimes. “Yeah… I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too. I got a little too bossy last night but I’m just irritated with everything. I want you,” he sighs and puts the phone down against something and sits down in the same chair he was in last night. “So that means no relief for us for at least a few more days, huh?”

“Yeah, sadly… What are you doing today?”

“We have a lot planned, we’re going to Reggie’s cross country thing and we’ll be at my parents for a while. I probably won’t be able to talk much,” he frowns.

“Ugh. Okay. I work the next 5 days so it is what it is I guess,” I sit up and run my hands through my hair.

“So you didn’t finish last night?” He smirks at me.

“No… I wasn’t in the mood after you ignored me.”

He chuckles. “You hung up on me, little girl.”

“You made me get out of the perfectly good bath I had just ran and then made fun of me for being cold,” I fire back at him.

“You would have been just fine once you got into that bed. Trust me, I planned on getting your heart rate up plenty high enough to keep you warm.”

I roll my eyes and smile. “Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm. You should’ve just trusted me. Now look us, both frustrated and deprived.”

“Ugh. I can’t wait for you to be home. I want you so bad,” I frown.

“I know, baby girl. We’ll go again in a couple days. Next time, do what I say and we won’t have any problems,” he smiles.

—

11 days later

“Hi Vinnie,” I answer his FaceTime, smiling. “My phone is running low on battery, so if the call ends, I’m sorry.”

We’ve hardly had any time to talk lately between me working and him being busy so I’m happy to see him. But of course he would call when I’m out of the house and my phone is almost dead.

“Ugh, you’re killing me, woman… are you shopping?” He asks, noticing my surroundings.

“Yeah, thought I’d get some new lingerie for when you get home,” I say quietly, hanging the clothes up in the dressing room at the mall. I put the phone down on the chair in front of me.

I can see he’s in the same spot at the desk he’s always in. He leans back into the seat, smirking at me. “Yeah? Try em on for me.”

“But wanted whatever I get to be a surprise for you,” I pout.

He sighs and leans forward, looking into the camera with a serious face. “Are you ever gonna learn?”

I don’t wanna piss him off again and decide to do what he says without protest. “Okay… You can tell me which you like best,” I slide my shirt off, unclasp my bra, and pull my jeans down leaving me in just my underwear.

I can tell he’s staring at my tits on the screen, and smile, running my hands from my collarbone to my chest. I gently squeeze my nipples to tease him before dropping my arms to my sides, leaving myself on full display for him.

“So fucking beautiful baby,” he practically whines. “Now put the first outfit on.”

I grab the first one I have lined up - a black lace bralette, garter skirt, and fishnet thigh high stockings.

I bend over, slowly sliding each stocking on to my legs and then slip the skirt on.

“Fuck princess, I’d go crazy for you just like that,” he says. He’s still leaned forward with his face near the camera and I can see his cheeks are red.

“You’re horny for me already?” I ask softly, giggling.

“I’m horny for you literally 24/7,” he gives me a coy smile.

“Let me put the bra on,” I say, sliding it over my arms and clasping the back of it. I lift my hair off my shoulders and do a little twirl. “What do ya think?”

“Fucking stunning. Let me see your ass again.”

I turn back around with my back facing the camera and peek at my phone over my shoulder.

“Smack it for me, would ya?” He smiles, biting his lip.

I smile, shaking my hips back and forth a little and smack myself, feeling my ass jiggle beneath my hand.

He laughs and sits back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Good girl. Try the next one on.”

The next one is a similar style, but has a corset top instead of the bra. I undress and slip the new outfit on, doing another twirl. “What about this one?”

“I mean you look amazing but I wanna see more of you than that shows,” he leans forward again, resting his chin on his hand.

“Yeah, it’s kinda weird fitting anyway. It squishes my boobs and makes them look weird,” I say, unstrapping the back part.

He chuckles. “Is there another one?”

“Yeah, one more,” I grab it off the hook and hold it up to my nearly naked body. It’s a short black mesh negligee.

“Ooh, baby. You know I love you in those little dresses,” he says softly. His eyes scan up and down his phone screen as I slide it over my body, putting myself in all the right places.

“How’s this?” I spin slowly, holding the bottom of the dress out.

“That’s the one, princess. God, I can’t fucking wait to put my hands all over your body,” he looks at me as if he’s desperate.

“Only 3 more days…” I remind him.

“Fuck 3 more days. I have an idea.”

“What?” I ask.

“Grab the chair and move it in front of the mirror,” he smiles.

“Vinnie, I -“

“Y/n! Please for the love of god, just listen to me. I swear you’re gonna pay for all the back talk you’ve given me these last few days, mark my words.”

“Ugh,” I say, trying to sound annoyed. I secretly love the idea but I don’t want to let him know that. “Okay.”

I pick my phone up and grab the chair, moving it to the center of the small room. “Now what?” I ask.

“Sit down and flip it to the back camera so I can see you in the mirror.”

I do as he says. “What now?”

“Spread your legs.”

I realize exactly where he’s going with this and my body starts to throb. It’s a quieter day at the mall but being in public is risky. The idea turns me on, though.

I slowly spread my legs and lean back in the chair. “Okay?” I say, almost in a whisper.

“Play with yourself.”

I smile and slowly move my hand to my inner thigh before sliding my underwear to the side, exposing my pussy. “Like this?” I ask, gently rubbing my clit.

“Yes, baby. Just like that,” his eyes are glued to the screen. I turn my phone volume down a little bit to try to be more subtle in case anyone is nearby.

I run my fingers up and down my wet slit before sliding my middle finger into my entrance, moaning softly. “Feels so good daddy,” I whisper as I start curling my finger against my g-spot.

“I know it does, princess. I wish you were here, I’d have you bent over this desk, the bathroom sink, the kitchen counter. Hell, I’d fuck you in my old bedroom at my parent’s house,” he says in a whisper.

“I’d give anything to have your mouth on me,” I moan. “To have you stretching out my tight little pussy, making me squirt all over your cock and down my legs… soaking both of us.”

I slip another finger into me and pick up the pace. I pull my tits out of my top and pinch one of my nipples and then move to my neck, gently squeezing to cut off my blood supply.

“Fuck baby girl, keep going. Just like that,” he stands up and drops his pants, exposing his cock. He spits into his hand and starts stroking himself quickly. “Gag yourself,” he demands.

I smile and take my hand off my neck, sticking 2 fingers into the back of my throat, triggering my gag reflex. My body tenses and drool drips from my mouth on to my chin.

“That’s right baby. Doing exactly what I ask, being a good girl for me,” he groans. “You’ll be rewarded for that later.”

I giggle and pull my fingers out of me, using them to gather the spit from my mouth to add it to my already soaked pussy. “I can’t wait to suck your dick, daddy,” I moan, maybe a little too loud but I don’t care at this point. It feels too good.

“I can’t wait to see you on your knees, looking up at me with those pretty eyes. I’m gonna -“

Suddenly the phone screen goes black and I freeze, realizing my phone just died. I totally forget about my low battery. I pull my fingers out of myself and lean forward. “Are you fucking kidding meeee,” I say to myself under my breath. “Fucking stupid fucking phone. Fuck.”

I slam it down into my purse. Tears steam down my face from frustration. I’m not even going to try this again, every time we do something happens. It’s been weeks since I’ve gotten relief, I’m literally desperate at this point. We’re just gonna have to wait until he gets home.

“3 more days. Just 72 hours,” I say out loud, wiping my tears trying to console myself.

[the-phantom-ender]

S. So. I reblogged this post earlier. And. And I wanted to see a fic for it.

But, uh... I'm very impatient. So I wrote it myself.

LISTEN. LISTEN. I KNOW I HAVE REQUESTS TO BE WORKING ON. HOWEVER, CONSIDER: PHILZA MINECRAFT.

Watson Phillips. That was the name he was going by at this point. He had his wings, practically useless by now, binded and pinned to his back. You could hardly see the bump left by them under the layers of clothing. It was uncomfortable, sure, but not bad. The ruler of this land was a Piglin, he couldn’t help but be reminded of… an old friend.

He sighed, waiting quietly for the event to start. And it did! Oh it did. He didn’t get much of a view of things when the first two gladiators went up to bat, being much to caught up in aiming the bow in his hands, quiver strapped over his shoulder. All he knew was that one of them, Lagius was it, lost miserably. Not that he would judge much, really.

He only really came to be aware of what was happening when he was approached. And… then he saw a very, very familiar face. Watson almost froze where he stood, but covered his tracks with grace, saying he was more or less just focused on target practice. It was a lie, but not an unbelievable one. He rolled his shoulders, back aching.

The cameraman was Karl Jacobs.

There was absolutely no doubt in his mind. For one, his clothing was absolutely not time appropriate. The brightly coloured spiral hoodie did not fly anymore, no sir. For two: Watson knew what reincarnation looked like. This was the same face. This was different.

He decided that when this was over, he would get a chance to talk to Karl.

Watson lost his fight. He kind of threw it, in fairness. The other guy was drunk off his ass and he felt a little guilty fighting him. Also the zero gravity ruining his shot did him in a little. He was deadly on target with a bow, but if a person could easily side step because of how slowly it moved, there was really no point.

After that, he was content just… standing around. He got a little drunk at one point, but he sobered up quick enough that it may well have never happened. It was nice getting to know the rest of the people around, they all seemed alright enough.

Then he spoke to the Ran fellow. An enderman, surely, through and through. Had the same genetic mutation as… someone he used to know. Made the eyes green. Not very common, but not terribly uncommon, either. They carried themselves like anyone could come at them at any time. And considering everything going on, he might have been right with the caution.

“So… Ran, was it? Enderman name.”

He perked up, ears flicking slightly,” Yes. It’s common. You’re... versed in the culture?” “Eh,” Watson shrugged,” I’ve been taught some things by some old friends. Know a little of the language. I’m a little rusty, though.”

The two of them stuck by each other through a lot of the rest of the tournament. Warbling occasionally in a language others didn’t understand. Though Ran did comment, at one point, that the way he spoke it was very outdated. All he did was shrug and say that the guy who taught him might have thought it was funny. That seemed to be enough of that.

At the end, Ran managed to yank both of them out of the lava, keeping both from a rather unsavory death by fire. They stood behind a pillar, listening to chaos erupt around them. Jackie had won. And he was directed to… kill the cameraman. Oh no, absolutely fucking not.

Watson nudged Ran,” Hey, mate, when the kid goes to deal the killing blow to the camera man, is there any way you can just… blip over there and make sure he doesn’t actually die?”

“... Yeah, I can manage that.”

Ran delivered on his word, too. Before Watson knew it, Karl was behind the pillar with them and no one was the wiser. He lurched up, bewildered, clearly expecting to be anywhere but there.

“...What the honk?”

There it was.

“Ran, mate, if you don’t mind. I’d like to have a private word with him.” A shrug,” Alright. I have some… business to attend to, anyways.” A slight salute, and then he was gone.

Karl had tried to slink away, but Watson firmly grabbed his arm and forced him to stay. He threw a cloak over the man’s shoulders and snuck them out with the crowd. To his credit, he didn’t complain. It was… almost uncomfortable how resigned he was to this, honestly. Eventually, Watson tugged Karl around a corner and out of sight.

“How are you here, Karl Jacobs?”

“What?”

“Don’t play stupid, mate.”

“H-how…” Karl blinked, moving to hold his head,” How do you know who I- have I met you? My memory, um, it isn’t… the greatest. So. If I’m forgetting you, I’m sorry-”

“I, gah, do I really have to spell this out for you?”

“... Yeees.”

“I swear to gods if this is just because I binded my fuckin’ wings…” Watson sighed.

It wasn’t like he could just… take off the binding. He’d pinned them down pretty damn well, it’d take a while to unwrap things. Still, he supposed those were the most defining features about him. Unless… did he still keep that thing in his bag? It was old and busted by now, but he’d replaced it more than once already and didn’t wanna do it again.

He opened his satchel, rustling around for a few moments. A small smile grew on his face as he saw the edge of the green and white rim. With a flourish, Watson pulled out the bucket hat and placed it on his head. It fit better when his hair was longer. Waving his hands, jazz hands, he whispered out a little ‘ta-da!’

“PHILZA MIN-”

“SHHHH!” Watson hissed, shoving a hand over Karl’s mouth,” Not so fuckin’ loud, mate.”

A beat.

“Yeah, though. You died. A very long time ago. How the fuck are you… here, Karl?”

“Uh…” Karl’s eyes darted around,” Would you… believe me if I said that I’m, uh, I’m on… business.”

[butwhyduh]

Since you wrote Christmas with tha Bois are you planning on writing a New Years Eve fics too 🎇🎉?

*insert surprised pikachu meme*

now I am (!!!)

They are all required to go to a Wayne gala that Bruce has thrown since before he took Dick in as a ward. It’s important. So of course, I wanna show what kind of suits they would wear too. (Indulge me lmao) [none of these images are sensitive. Tumblr is an idiot]

Tim

Okay I get that you wouldn’t think high strung proper Tim Drake Wayne , Mr CEO, would were a pretty casual suit. But he wears a suit everyday and by golly, he isn’t wearing a tie for New Years freakin Eve. It’s something different and he can relax. And he’s so tired of black. Plus the blue brings brings out the color in his eyes.

—————

He adjusted the collar of his suit. He always wore a nice suit to work. But this was for a gala. The tie just wouldn’t lay flat. You walked up behind him and pulled the offensive fabric off and tossed it on the bed. He moved to protest but you started unbuttoning his collar.

“Okay,” he said with a slow smirk. “But it’ll have to be quick.”

“I’m just fixing your shirt,” you said rolling your eyes. “I’m not messing my makeup up before a gala. That looks nicer. I never see you relaxed,” you said leaving your hands on his chest longer than necessary.

“I relax sometimes. I’m relaxing tonight. With you,” he said turning to give you a quick kiss. You smiled and he took a look at your outfit. “I’ll have to keep my eye peeled though. You’re going to attract a lot of attention in that.”

“Too bad I’m already dating a man they couldn’t possibly compete with. Come on, lover boy,” you said and he took your hand before going downstairs.

It was always stressful to first go to a gala. Tim was moderately famous as Bruce Wayne’s heir, heir to the Drake family fortune, and the acting CEO of Wayne Enterprise. Luckily this was very boring to most young people and his pictures were in a small section of the business page of the papers rather than like Dick Grayson being splashed all over the lifestyle section like a celebrity. But cameras flashing as you walked down stairs in heels was terrifying. Tim was the only one to notice as you gripped his arm like a vice each time.

You could usually smile and drink champagne as Tim talked shop with the old men he worked with or young men who were trying to climb the business ladder. Tim’s fingers made idle circles in your hand or on your back as he talked. He was also taking glances at you in you outfit all evening.

Only when he was desperate for a break would he ask you to dance. Tim was a good dancer. He had been taught at an early age. But he was not a natural and he didn’t want you bothered with more photos. You insisted after a full hour of talking about some sort of quarterly investment opportunity that he take you to the dance floor.

“Dance with me, Timmy,” you asked quietly in a lull in the conversation. It was almost midnight anyways. He smiled at you before looking back at the men.

“Excuse us,” Tim said before letting you lead him to the floor. He gently held your waist and you wrapped your arms around his neck. The song was fairly slow so you barely danced more than a sway. That was fine. You were more interested in staring in to his ocean eyes than cutting a rug.

“Sorry if it’s been incredibly boring,” Tim said. “You’d probably rather be doing anything else.”

“Dancing is nice. Seeing you more than 5 minutes is nice,” you said.

“Speaking of 5 minutes, it’s 5 minutes until midnight.”

“No more work talk tonight. Just be with me,” you pleaded softly. Tim frowned for a second before pulling you closer.

“I can do that. All yours tonight. I’ll just punch anyone who tries to talk business to me,” he said.

“Good enthusiasm. Terrible plan. Sweet though,” you said kissing his cheek. He smiled.

“Or we could just leave right after New Years,” Tim said with a wiggle of his brows. You giggled.

“Better plan.”

Bruce had gotten on the stage and the music stopped. You didn’t let Tim go. As they counted down to midnight, you and Tim gazed at each other.

3-2-1

🎆🎇

You leaned your face up and kissed him. Tim held your waist tighter and your wrapped your fingers up in his soft black hair. After just a few seconds you pulled back and smiled at him.

“Happy New Years, sunshine,” he said.

“Happy New Years, Duckie.”

“Let’s get out of here before they see us leave,” he suggested. The rest of the night was spent in his room and you were so glad for the loud fireworks to cover any noise you might have made.

Dick

Dick has been to 714 galas. He’s an expert. He’s expected to play the handsome charming eldest son. Wearing a beautiful suit is half the battle. Not to mention, he kinda likes showing off a little. It’s New Years. And the blue and grey bring out the color in his eyes so well.

———————————

Dick barely got in the door before flopping on the bed with his detective uniform still on. You sat on the edge of your bed, already in hair, dress, and makeup, and reached over to rub his shoulders. He groaned softly.

Barely off of work and already having to change into a suit for a family event. Dick needed a day off. Badly. He had the next 3 days off of work and he just had to deal with this night. No, he needed to be positive. You hadn’t done anything and he didn’t want to ruin New Years Eve.

You pushed your palm into a knot on his shoulder. He all but moaned. “Thank you, baby,” he said. “It’s these stupid cases. They have been driving me- baby,” Dick said turning to look and taking you in. “You look good.”

You smiled and giggled. “You think?”

“Always, but this? Wowza,” he said laughing. “Im going be showing off the prettiest girl at the ball,” Dick said sing song. You rolled your eyes with a grin. His compliments were usually over the top.

“Yeah, yeah. Not likely. You need to get dressed or I’m going to be very fancy for no reason,” you said and he hopped up. Dick was overworked but he always was. In record time he was dressed.

“Do you want to drive,” he asked hopefully. A quick 30 minute nap would be awesome.

“I can’t drive the Porsche since it’s stick,” you admitted.

“Well in that case, I’m teaching you soon. But not tonight. You gotta learn how to drive my car,” Dick said and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. You added that to the list of skills he thought completely necessary that hardly anyone could do anymore. Could you even buy a new standard transmission car?

“Sure, hun. Let’s get going before we’re late,” you said kissing his cheek. You straightened his pocket square and you were both out the door.

“-and then you push the clutch. Right here,” he pointed at the floorboard as he drove.

“Not tonight. We can do this some other time. And if we don’t get there, it’s fine,” you said evasively.

“Ever? It’s important to be able to drive any kind of car and if it’s just you and the Porsche,” Dick said with a frown. You could see a contingency plan forming in his head.

“I very much doubt there will be a situation where I have to drive your car,” you said with a shrug.

“I’d rather plan for it,” Dick said and you dropped it. It was like a security blanket for him to plan for anything.

Walking into a gala was exciting and nerve racking. Dick was extremely popular back in Gotham and it was honestly weird as he was normal back in Bludhaven. Dick was the perfect gentleman and made sure you felt comfortable and safe when the cameras flashed. You smiled and ignored whatever anyone said about you. It could be mean with jealousy. You were with him for his money, you were just arm candy, and you weren’t that pretty. The first time had hurt pretty badly. Now you had a new ring on your hand and you felt almost as nervous as your first gala. One through the door to the ballroom, you relaxed.

“Are you okay? You looked really nervous,” Dick said and you grimaced. That sounds like nice pictures.

“Just a little,” you said subconsciously playing with your ring. Dick, of course, noticed right away.

“What’s wrong? Do you not want the ring? Or the engagement,” he asked quietly and it broke your heart that he was even worried about it. His big blue eyes were wide with worry.

“Not at all,” you said grabbing his shoulder. “I just don’t like how they talk. I’m very happy. And I love the ring. It’s beautiful.”

Dick’s frown turned to a pleased smile. “Good. Because that was my mom’s ring.”

“Dick! You gave me a family heirloom without mentioning it? That makes it twice as special,” you said shocked. “Thats so sweet of you.”

You leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “I love it. But if you give me something that important again without telling me, I’ll beat you,” you whispered in his ear and he laughed.

“Let’s dance,” Dick said. He pulled you to the dance floor. He was the best dancer out of all of the Wayne children and possibly better than Bruce. He had been dancing since he could walk. His parents were performers and taught him many dance styles. Bruce also insisted that all the children knowing all the common dances they would need to know at a gala.

Keeping up with Dick was the biggest issues with dancing. He could dance quick dances for hours and you had to remind him that not everyone spent hours a day training and fighting. At the moment you had insisted on stopping to get a drink. You practically pounded a water bottle while he sipped on some punch.

“Kinda floral. Not bad. Little sweet,” he said.

“It’s not alcoholic, is it?”

“I don’t think so. It’s just one glass,” Dick said. “I’ll be fine to drive later.”

“No. It’s just that Damian and his girlfriend have a cup each,” you said motioning over to them.

“It’s fine. They wouldn’t give them alcohol,” Dick said and you relaxed. Of course not. That would be crazy to give kids alcohol.

“Let’s sit down. My feet are getting a little tired,” you said with a wince. He nodded and you sat at a table by the dance floor. As if Dick had put out a sign, a bunch of people flocked over to talk to him.

Somehow a plate of small snacks ended up in front of you, probably Alfred. You ate a little while he played the philanthropist son of Bruce Wayne. It was actually really nice to be ignored.

Until it wasn’t.

An older Wayne investor brought a woman over as his ‘date.’ She instantly latched on to Dick and started flirting with him. Her hand kept touching his arms and shoulders. You were getting mad but this wasn’t a surprise. People acted like he was someone they could grope and touch without consequences.

Finally it was too much and you cleared your throat. She looked at you in disgust before going back to flirting with Dick.

“Can you give my fiancé some space,” you asked politely as you could. Her eyes raked over your body.

“He could do so much better than some poor trash like you in a second rate dress. Not even that ugly little ring could change that,” she said nastily. You gasped.

“Okay we’re leaving,” Dick said standing up. The woman had to back away from him. His jaw was clenched in controlled anger. He had a temper and this wasn’t the time to lose it.

You stood up and hissed as your shoes cut into your feet worse than when you had been wearing them all night. Great, you couldn’t even wear heels in front of her. She laughed. Dick simply picked you up bridal style and carried you out of the ballroom and upstairs to his old bedroom. He sat you on the bed gently.

You knew that she was just a vapid socialite but it did hurt. She had pretty accurately attacked your insecurities and you blinked to prevent yourself from crying.

“Baby,” Dick said bending to a crouch in front of you. “Don’t think anything about what she said. She’s just jealous. Not worth your time.”

“She’s not wrong though. I’m just a poor kid trying to fit in in Wayne freaking Manor,” you said wiping your face. Stupid tears.

“And I’m just a circus kid. Don’t forget that,” Dick said sitting beside you. He pulled you into a hug. “Not a single damn bit of that matters. It’s almost midnight in a minute. Do you want to go back downstairs?”

“Not a chance,” you said with a dry smile.

“I figure. We have a better view anyways,” he said opening the curtains. You could vaguely hear the noise downstairs.

3-2-1

🎆🎇

“Happy New Years, baby,” Dick said giving you a kiss. He wiped the tears from your cheek.

“Happy New Years. Sorry I’m all teary,” you said.

“Nope. Don’t be sorry. My new New Years resolution is to make you smile,” he said with a devious look. His fingers suddenly attacked your sides and pulled laughter from you. He pushed you to the bed in his attack.

“Dick! Okay! Quit!” You shrieked with laughter. He stopped his hands and leaned over you.

“Alright. I quit. But since we’re alone. Wanna ring in the New Years the right way,” he asked with a smirk. You grinned back.

“Got any ideas on how to do that?” You asked back.

“So many. Baby, so many,” before kissing you. Fireworks sounded in the background.

Damian

(Older 16 yr old) Damian is literally the son of Batman. He’s going to dress like it. Nice and formal and expensive. It was like a form of armor. Homeboy looks like a million bucks. His watch might be. And if a burgundy turtleneck A accents his well defined pecs, B shows the gold in his tan skin, and C the gorgeous green in his eyes, he ain’t complaining.

“Beloved,” Damian said pulling on his jacket. “Come out,” he said in a sing song voice that would have been completely foreign to hear to anyone else but you.

You flushed as you came out. His jaw dropped before he quickly straightened his face. He’d taken the risk of buying you a dress for the party. He’d seen Bruce do it for women all the time. It was practically his calling card. Even Dick had done it a few times. But this was a first for Damian.

“You look very nice. Beautiful,” he said quietly looking away at his cuff links. “Are you ready to go downstairs?”

“Just my shoes,” you said, trying to slip them on and almost falling over. Damian quickly grabbed your waist.

“I got you. I can put them on,” he said kneeling to the ground. He hadn’t meant anything besides efficiency with his offer. But as he slid your foot into a heel and strapped it across your ankle, it felt far more intimate. His hand held your calf a little longer than necessary before switching to the other foot. This side had a slit up to your thigh and he could see your bare leg up close. Damian gulped before attaching the shoe. He quickly stood up and cleared his throat.

“Are you ready now?”

You nodded. He offered his arm and you went downstairs. Cameras flashed for just a few minutes before Damian skillfully steered you away from them. His father would kill any pictures of you before they got to the papers but Damian knew how much you hated them.

“Dance with me?” You asked and he happily complied. He had been trained in several dance styles and was good at it. He also enjoyed the way you would smile when he would spin you. If it made his beloved happy, he was happy. It attracted a little attention. Bruce Wayne’s teenage son and his date could dance with skill. This too was only viewable in person.

“Let’s get a drink,” Damian said pulling you to the refreshments. You were out of breath but happy and followed him. There was suppose to be people handling the drinks but there were so many people. Damian pushed through and grabbed two drinks and handed one to you.

“Let’s find a table,” you said. As always, Damian pulled you along to a secluded corner close to the door to the garden. Cold air and little whiffs of cigarette smoke swirled around but at least you weren’t in the overheated body filled floor anymore.

You sat and drank at your punch. It was heavily sweetened and floral. It was refreshing and... warm. You waved at yourself.

“Is it hot in here to you?” You asked Damian.

“Want to go for a walk outside? It’s cooler out there,” he suggested. Damian took your arm again and you walked out the door into the garden. A stone path lined little beds of delicate plants. Topiaries lined the path. Small solar lights and the full moon lit the garden. There were a few people walking but not many.

Damian looked so handsome. Long dark lashes frames his bright green eyes. His skin almost glistened with silver light of the moon. He bent and plucked a flower from a bush. Damian tucked it behind you ear with a little smile.

“The prettiest rose in all the garden,” he said and you smiled shyly.

“I don’t think that’s actually a rose though,” you said and he laughed. A rare occurrence.

“It’s not. But I was talking about you. May I kiss you,” he said lightly touching the side of your neck with his hand. You nodded and he leaned down. You closed your eyes and his lips brushed against yours. You pressed a hand against his chest.

Damian’s hand slid to the back of your neck to hold you as he pressed harder against your mouth. His tongue slipped in your mouth and you made the softest whimpering sound. Damian’s eyes flew open and he almost froze. That was new and he could get used to the pretty sound.

You kissed like this for a little while. Damian’s hand slid down to hold your waist when he noticed you shivered. He pulled back.

“Beloved, are you cold,” he asked, cursing himself. Of course, you were cold wearing a thin dress while he was in a full suit. He quickly pulled off his jacket and put it around your shoulders.

“Just a little. It’s fine,” you protested. He insisted on sliding your arms in the sleeves and button the jacket.

“Let’s go in. It’s close to midnight anyways,” Damian said giving you one last kiss.

3-2-1

🎇🎆

“Happy New Years beloved,” he said with a kiss. Damian had grabbed another two glasses of punch and you two touched them in cheers.

“No sir,” Alfred said sternly, taking the glasses from your hands. “No alcohol for either of you. There is juice on the other side of the table.”

You waited until Alfred walked away before laughing. “They should have labeled that better.”

“That explains why it felt overly warm in here earlier,” Damian said thoughtfully.

The music had changed to overly sappy and people were kissing and dancing far too close. They were feeling the effects of the alcohol they had been drinking all night. Damian looked at them in disgust.

“Want to go upstairs,” he asked. You quickly looked at him. “Not like that. We can watch a movie or something, anything away from this.”

“Sounds great,” you said and you both left.

Jason

I’m fairly certain I’ve seen him in a suit like this in the comics. I considered him saying FU to Bruce and showing up in boots and black leather jacket. But Jason knows he looks good in red. And he’d probably get a kick out of wearing one of his suits he wore as Red Hood to a fucking gala. Bruce would know.

—————————

“Princess, if you make me wait any longer I’ll kick down the door and physically carry you to the damn party,” Jason said with no malice in his voice. You opened the bathroom door.

“Not all of us look good without a little work,” you said playfully tapping his chest. You yanked his tie straight with a little more force than needed.

“I’d have to disagree, doll. I’d honestly prefer you in nothing,” he said with a smirk. You rolled your eyes.

“How does it look?” You said with a twirl.

“Like a million bucks. That ass. Let’s skip the party and-“

“No no no. Let’s get going. You can be handsy later,” you said grabbing your purse.

“Promise,” he asked as you both left. The roads weren’t too bad with ice and in fact, it was going to be a rare dry night in Gotham.

Jason didn’t do pictures. He hated them and so you both parked in the servant entrance and walked in a side door. It didn’t matter. The Manor was beautiful no matter how you looked at it. And being a poor kid from Gotham, you couldn’t believe you were actually at a party in Wayne freaking Manor.

“Don’t be nervous. It’s just a bunch of shitty rich people in pretty walls. They aren’t any better than us. Hell, worth half of you, sweetheart. Let’s get a drink,” he said pulling you to the drink table. It was pretty packed but he muscled through to the front. He got your preferred drink. “And a whiskey on the rocks.”

“Don’t get drunk,” you whispered to him. “I won’t sleep with you drunk.”

“With a finger of water,” Jason added to the bartender who nodded.

“Good save,” you said turning to look at the floor. You sipped your drink and people watched.

Dick and his date were dancing some quick steps in the middle of the floor. No surprise there. Tim was talking to boring business men and his poor date looked absolutely bored on her feet. Alfred was watching Damian and his date from the corner of his eyes whereas Damian seemed completely oblivious with his eyes on her all night. And Bruce was currently heavily flirting with a woman who literally meowed at him. You resisted the urge to gag and turned back to Jason.

“Wanna dance,” Jason asked casually watching the floor. But you knew he wanted to dance because he asked.

“Yeah,” you said grabbing his hand. He pulled to to the floor. Jason was also trained to dance as all the Wayne boys had been. But he was probably the worst dancer out of all of them. His parents had never taught him anything as nice as dancing and he’d only lived with Bruce for a few years before the whole Joker thing. But Jason was a natural athlete and his dancing was still pretty darn good.

The dance was a bit slower than the one Dick and his date had been dancing to earlier. Jason held one hand on your waist and the other stayed in your hand. His dancing was visibly polite and innocent. The words he whispered in your ear were far from.

“Is it hard being the hottest woman here? This dress on your ass is fucking delicious,” he whispered and you flushed at his words. “I can’t wait to fuck you in it later.”

He really enjoyed saying things that were completely naughty in public where you could do nothing about it. But you knew that if he kept it up, you’d be finding a spare room before New Years even came. And you didn’t want to miss the fireworks again this year.

As the song ended, and you thoroughly turned on and scandalized, you asked him to walk in the garden with you. Lover boy needed something to cool him down.

“Sure, Princess,” he said snagging 2 glasses of punch on the way out. You both walked between the flower beds and he told you stories of things that had happened there. “And that’s when Dick accidentally cut the top foot off of this bush. Alfred had him scrubbing floors for a month,” Jason said with a laugh. “It was so bad that there is still a rule of no swords in the garden. Damian hates it.”

“I bet he does. But he could probably destroy the entire garden with a pocket knife,” you said with a laugh. Jason suddenly pulled you to the side with a hush. He motioned over a ways.

“Speaking of the kid, look over there,” Jason whispered. You looked over to see Damian making out with a girl his age. It was so weird to see him being so sweet. “I didn’t know he felt human emotion, much less find someone his age to makeout with.”

“They could have said that about you a few years ago,” you said slyly.

“Yeah, point taken. Want the best view of the fireworks?” Jason said.

“Where?”

“Top of the roof.”

You blanched at the idea. “No thanks. I choose life.”

“It’s safe. There’s a ladder and everything,” Jason said hugging you from behind. “Best view in the house. And if not, dinners on me.”

“Jay, you get the check every time,” you reminded him. He chuckled.

“Maybe I’m just trying to get a pretty girl alone to give her a kiss,” Jason said pulling you to the roof. You flushed. “Unlike demon boy making out in the garden. I have class.”

“You’re a classy lady. Show me the way before I change my mind,” you said. He took you to a ladder over the library. You pulled off your heels and started climbing.

“Don’t worry I’ll catch you you if you fall Princess. I’m right behind you. Did I mention your ass in this dress? I kinda have the perfect view,” he said. You rolled your eyes before throwing your leg over the side of the roof. Jason quickly followed you.

“Here, wear my jacket,” Jason said throwing the red blazer over your shoulder.

“Oo my knife now,” you said feeling in his pocket and pulling out a sizable switchblade.

“I forgot to take it out of there. I wouldn’t touch it too much,” Jason said taking it out of your hands with a grimace. You gave him a look.

“That’s incredibly gross. Seriously. Do I even want to know?”

“Not really. Look at the stars. You can see them through the shitty Gotham sky,” Jason said sitting on a box. He pulled you into his lap and you were grateful as it was really quite cold. You could see some stars and you leaned your back against his chest and looked up at the heavens for a few minutes.

The music stopped downstairs. It must be almost midnight. You couldn’t understand but you heard Bruce talk over a mic. Then everyone started counting.

3–2-1

🎇🎆

“Happy New Years, Jaybird,” you said turning your head and holding Jason’s jaw. You leaned your head up and gave him a kiss. He held you close and you made out until the sound of a firework had you jumping. You laughed before turning to look. The roof really did have the best view.

After a few minutes of watching the fireworks you heard some lewd noises. Jason looked over at a window near your spot.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” he said with a disgusted look. “That’s fucking Tim’s room and the sound of him getting laid is literally the last thing I want. What I do want is to take a bite out of that ass I’ve been looking at all night.”

[cellsshapedlikestars]

If you are accepting prompts--how about Sansa and Jon being on opposite sides of a political contest? Prime Minister Rhaegar Targaryen is forced to call a referendum for Northern independence, as demanded by the Northern Nationalists party. He is campaigning in the North for a United Westeros, taking his second wife Lyanna Stark and their son Jon along, toshow how hollow all talk if Northern independence is. However, this means that Jon keeps running into his Stark cousins, particularly Sansa Stark, who accompanies her parents to every debate and campaign rally...

I've been sitting on this for a while (and yes, I do see all the anon prompts, I promise!) and I've sort of been writing this on and off since I got it. The thing is, I have no point of reference for these politics, I'm assuming you wanted something like the Scottish independence movement, which I have almost no knowledge of as I am a dumb American who can barely handle American politics without spiraling into anxiety and depression. So, I've sort of talked around the specifics and hopefully I haven't gotten anything too crazy wrong.

Also, you mention his Stark cousins, but... well, I cannot do modern incest. I can handle them being cousins in olden times where it was acceptable & common (I can't even handle the sibling incest aspect in any time period), but I was writing this modern and that's a hard nope for me. I know it's a fairly predominant part of this fandom and if it's your thing, absolutely have at it! There is no kink shaming in this house. It's just not for me and I couldn't write it, sorry!

Also, as usual, this turned out longer than I intended since these are supposed to be drabbles mostly. But 'drabbles' for me always end up like 2k words

.

Jon sits in the window seat of the jet, headphones on and turned up. Somewhere behind him, he knows his parents are sitting, likely talking strategy. He knows dad wants him to join in, but Jon's in no mood to talk politics. It's what got him in this situation to begin with.

That stupid reporter. Jon's stupid response.

Jon! How do you feel about Northern Independence?

I say let them.

It's what he believes, honestly – if the North wants independence, why not? The rest of the SK treats them like shit anyway, why not let them break off, like Dorne did? It's not a naming issue – they're still called the Seven Kingdoms despite losing Dorne decades ago, so what if they're technically only six now? Jon knows it's about more than that – it's economics and politics and... well, pride. The SK can't lose another piece of their kingdom – nevermind that piece has been conquered and beaten down multiple times over hundreds of years. Northern Independence isn't a new concept – it's just been met with military resistance every time and stamped out. But they aren't in the middle ages anymore.

For a moment he turns his head to look behind him – to see mom with her head bowed in conversation with dad and something ugly twists in Jon's stomach.

He knows dad only married mom because she got pregnant – because his political career was just taking off and a mistress and bastard would have ruined him. And mom, she'd been so young, she's convinced herself he married her for love. Jon swears that mom used to be different. She used to argue with Rhaegar all the time about politics, he even remembers her bringing up Northern Independence when Jon was just a kid. But over the years she's had to play the perfect wife for him and somewhere along the way it just... stuck. Mom isn't his mom anymore. No, mom is what Rhaegar's political advisors want her to be.

So even though Jon had wanted to protest this trip, there's also a part of him desperately clinging to the hope that when they get North, mom will snap out of it. When she's home, maybe she'll be his mom again.

Especially since the leader of the opposition is an old friend of hers.

Ned Stark.

Dad doesn't react to much, he's a politician to his core, so seeing him get riled anytime Ned Stark is on TV is notable. In fact, there's a rebellious part of Jon that already likes Ned Stark simply for the fact that dad hates him so much. There's more to like than just that, Jon knows – Ned Stark seems like one of those politicians that's doing the job because they want to make a difference. They're rare, nowadays, but Jon's been surrounded by politicians his whole life and he can spot the do-gooders from a mile away.

He thinks it's partly why dad hates it – Ned Stark doesn't use the same underhanded tactics Rhaegar's used to, and from everything Jon's heard, there's nothing to use against Ned. The only skeleton dad's advisors had ever found tucked away in Ned Stark's closet had been that his wife, Catelyn, had originally dated his older brother Brandon, who died in a car accident. They'd begun dating and married shortly after - a minor scandal that hadn't gained any traction, considering they've been married for over twenty years with five children.

Dad was hoping to get somewhere with the youngest daughter, Arya, who always seemed more wild than the rest of her siblings (except maybe the youngest, Rickon). The problem is that she's never done anything really wrong and the North loves her. The oldest son Robb is as perfect a son as any politician could hope for and Jon sometimes wonders if dad would rather have Robb than Jon.

The other two sons are still fairly young and going after them would only make dad look like the bad guy. Then there's Sansa.

Jon remembers her from growing up – not that he'd ever met her, but they're both kids of prominent politicians and he's seen her in photos since she was old enough to walk. A proper lady, he remembers even the southern press naming her. Perfect, just like her older brother.

A hand on his shoulder jolts him out of his thoughts and he turns to see mom, who motions at him to take off his headphones.

“We're landing in a half hour and your father would like to go over your role,” she tells him with a perfect, bland smile. (She hasn't been his mother for a very long time.)

“I know my role,” he says and he can't help the bitter tone to his voice. “Stay quite, don't talk to the press. Pretty easy to remember.”

“And yet you still managed to nearly undermine my entire campaign with one flippant remark,” dad's voice calls over from his seat, low and smooth, though Jon absolutely hears the annoyance underneath it.

“Oh, he's just a child,” mom says, trying to play the peacekeeper like she always does.

“He's twenty, he's hardly a child,” dad starts, but Jon doesn't listen to the rest. He pulls his headphones back over his ears and looks back out the window and tries to pretend he's anywhere else.

…

By the time they reach Winterfell Castle, Jon is in a bad mood.

Not that he hadn't been before, but he's not allowed his headphones in the limo and so he'd had to listen to dad talk nonstop about his two favorite topics: Jon's failure as a son and how much he hates Ned Stark. And the way mom doesn't even try to defend Ned Stark like she used to infuriates Jon even more.

Jon hates his tuxedo and he hates that they barely had any time between landing and having to get ready for this dinner and he hates that he's going to have to smile and shake hands with a bunch of people who hate him on principle, simply for who his father is. For what his father represents.

When he does step out of the limo, he ignores every photographer and reporter that shouts his name, eager to get any sort of scandal out of him.

He doesn't blame them for this, he's given them enough over the years – not just his apparent support of Northern Independence, but everything else he's done to gain his notoriety. His reputation as a heartbreaker and a playboy that's mostly over-exaggerated, that time he punched a teacher (though to be fair, Thorne deserved it)... Teenage rebellion, they'd written it off as, but he's no longer a teenager and he knows he should grow up and stop doing things to piss off his father at some point.

(His favorite one had been sleeping with that investigative journalist when he was seventeen. She'd been older than him by a good few years and he'd known she was using him to write an article, but he was using her just as much to infuriate his father. His only true regret is that Ygritte's article hadn't done any real lasting damage to Rhaegar's reputation.)

Inside, there aren't any reporters but there are politicians everywhere and that's worse. He does the bare minimum to not cause an issue – he shakes hands and says hello, though he refuses to smile while doing it. They already hate him for being Rhaegar Targaryen's son. They already hate him for being Northern-traitor Lyanna Snow's son.

He keeps an eye on mom to see how she's doing and his heart twists painfully in his chest when he sees her. She has a bright smile on her face and anyone who didn't know her would think she's fine, but Jon can see how pale she is under her makeup. This is the first time she's been back in the North since she married dad and he has a sudden, sharp pang of hatred for Rhaegar – for getting her pregnant, for marrying her, for never letting her go back. For turning her into this.

He can tell the moment Ned Stark enters the room because mom freezes. And sure enough, there he is – beautiful wife at his side, the three adult children with him. Robb, Sansa, Arya. Jon's eyes scan over them – Robb with his perfect hair and smile, an easy way about him that's always come through even on camera. Sansa standing poised and almost too beautiful to believe – Jon's only ever seen her on film and somehow she's even more unreal in person. Arya, who by all accounts hates politics as much as Jon does, stands firmly by her family and Jon gets the sense she only hates the system, not her dad. Not like Jon.

As Jon scans the room, he can see other families here that he recognizes – the Greyjoys, including Robb Stark's best friend Theon. The Manderlys, the Karstarks, the Ryswells, the Boltons, the Mormonts. More families than Jon cares to remember.

There's a sense of someone behind him and he turns just enough to see that dad has come up to stand next to him. For a moment, dad just stands there before turning his head ever so slightly and bringing his mouth close to Jon's ear and he says so low Jon can barely even hear it - “if you do anything to embarrass me tonight, there will be consequences. If you do anything that makes it seem like you support this pathetic independence movement, there will be consequences. Do you understand me?”

Jon feels blind rage that winds so hot in his chest it makes him shake and his vision narrow. He has to close his eyes and take a deep breath before he can answer, and he grits out, “of course.” Dad nods and moves away, putting on his best politician smile as he goes to greet Howland Reed.

Mom shoots him a concerned look, but Jon ignores her. He can feel it building in him – that rebelliousness the press likes to talk about so much. He wants to hurt Rhaegar. For everything – for his mother, for all the people dad's stepped on and hurt. He wants to embarrass him, consequences be damned.

Just as he's thinking this, his eyes catch on copper hair and bright blue eyes.

Sansa Stark.

Darling of the press. Perfect Northern princess.

It takes root in his mind, against his better judgment. What would make Rhaegar more furious than an affair between his son and the daughter of Ned Stark?

Jon can't imagine Sansa would be amenable to the suggestion, not like Ygritte had been – there is no mutually beneficial agreement here. She would never agree to do something that might embarrass her father (and once again, Jon is reminded of the, pun intended, stark difference between his relationship with his father and the Stark children's relationship with Ned. Jon has never even met them in person and he knows this).

So he can't approach her with any sort of offer or plan. No, he'd have to pretend it was real.

He's going to have to seduce Sansa Stark.

[unknown-writing]

The boys reacting to their s/o pulling themselves out of a Bad Depressive Relapse:

Warning(s): Mentions of depression, Intrusive thoughts, self-destructive behavior’s

A/N: I’m very proud of myself for pulling myself out of my bad depressive relapse episode this morning so, it’s time to write some comfort!

This man is pretty dense when it comes to dealing with other people’s internal suffering tbh.

Like, unless your outwardly showing signs of pain, he won’t fully get it.

He noticed that you were...Not your usual self for a while. A long while at that, it started to worry him that you weren’t laughing with him anymore for that period of your slump.

But, one morning, an early morning that is, you had snuck out of your room that you shared with the girls to find Luffy for some much needed Cuddling.

Ever so quietly moving towards his bed, you slowly climbed in. Him feeling movement on top of him startled him awake but, he kept quiet.

Seeing that you were the one crawling in his bed, literally made him have the biggest grin on his dorky face you’ve ever seen.

“Welcome back y/n-san” He whispered as he pulled you in for a tighter cuddle session, you couldn’t help but chuckle but, you kept quiet to avoid waking the other boys.

Soon enough, it was morning, and the rest of the crew saw that you two were finally cuddling again after your depressive slump.

Nami so took a picture with the Camera-snail for blackmail evidence to tease you with.

Seeing you severely depressed drove him Mad.

Not because he was mad /at you/ But because he was mad at /himself/ for not noticing it sooner than he should have.

Robin tried telling him about your depressive slump but, Zoro was completely clueless on what she was getting at.

“My y/n? Depressed? Why? She looks perfectly fine to me.”

That line was a big mistake on his part since you accidentally heard that, which sort of drove you over the edge again

Ngl, it took him quite a while for him to start making it up to you again after that night. His guilty conscious refused to let him rest peacefully until things where settled between you two again

Weeks went by, and even though most of the Straw Hats assumed you where still depressed, Zoro sensed otherwise.

It seemed like to him that you were finally starting to shed your light again, even if it was a slow start at first.

One day though, while the two of you were on grocery duties to help Sanji since he took the role of guard duty this round. You grabbed his arm and hugged it tightly.

it startled him at first because he thought he was being kidnapped or something, but once he saw that you had just grabbed onto it and acted so casually about it

This mans started to blush a pink hue. A brief silenced filled the air between you two before he spoke up,

“...Y/n-san....” He paused before turning towards you, “Is everything ok now? And I don’t mean that fake bullshit ‘Ok’ either...” he asked while looking concerned

You looked up to him, with the biggest smile he’d ever seen. Even if it was a small one, the fact that you smiled again after so long of not smiling, it drove him Wild.

“Yeah...........Yeah.......Everything’s gonna be ok now.” You started off before holding his hand firmly, “I have my Nakama...And I have you by my side. So, I’m no longer alone anymore.” You smiled again while looking up to Zoro, who still had the blush but, a genuine smile back

“That’s my girl.” Zoro just says while bending down to give you a quick peck on the forehead, which made you blush a deep crimson red seeing as you two were in public still.

Okay but, you /KNOW/ this idiot is gonna think it’s his fault your depressed.

He’ll constantly blame himself for your sadness, as it’s not something that could be easily cured with affection or food.

He’s even more sad when he can’t dote on you so much because it makes you feel even worse.

You have to keep reminding him that this was just how your brain worked sometimes.

It wasn’t until Nami and Chopper explaining it to him properly, is when he started to finally understand that some people just feel down and needed some space for a bit.

Even when he was giving you your personal space, he still made you your favorite foods, making sure that you had stuff to drink and eat even if you were cooped up in your bedroom for a long time.

He won’t admit it directly but, he genuinely misses you. He misses your smell, your touch, your face, your body, your everything.

He especially misses the way you can easily fluster him and make him feel like a King, but he’ll deny those feelings if you asked him though.

A couple of month’s had gone by of this depressive state of yours. it was starting to take a mental tole on himself, knowing that you were stuck in those same four walls, missing everything that was happening, being unable to help you at all during this.

Just as he was about to head towards the sleeping cabin area to drop off your next meal, he’d noticed that your door was slightly open. He blinked, confused and worried that somebody had tried sneaking inside of it somehow.

But soon enough, you had popped out, yawning as you’d just woken up that morning. Nothing had harmed you physically from the looks of it, he looked up and down for a while before placing the food tray on a nightstand to avoid spilling the food.

You turn after hearing the tray clink against the wooden surface, “Oh? Morning Sanji-sa--Ouf!” You where cut off from a tackle hug.

Sanji had wrapped his arms around you tightly, holding you so close to him you were practically choking on his hair. “S-Sanji?? Is everything alright?” You asked, patting his back gently

Your eyes widened as the next thing he did was give you a big passionate kiss on your lips. You felt salty fluids on his face. “Oh.” You thought as you realized what was happening

“I missed you so fucking much y/n-chan.” Sanji says after the kiss. Hearing him say that so bluntly made /you/ turn red-faced and start to stutter.

“....Yeah....I missed you too Sanji-san.” You admitted while smiling again after so long of not showing your smile to anybody. Poor Sanji nearly fainted.

Law knew something was off about you even before you realized it yourself.

You were grumpy, snippy, more “tired” than normal. You had constant mood swings that showed up out of the blue. Everything was just...Off.

It didn’t take much for him to realize that you were dealing with Depression. Although he knew very little of your past, he knew that something was eating at you.

Once your downward spiral of your mental suffering began, you stayed in your bedroom for the majority of the time, refusing to go out even if it was for a general meeting for a mission, or even for food.

Law wasn’t the best at communicating his own feelings towards somebody, so helping his crush with her depression was a little bit harder to do than he thought.

He didn’t realize that you would get so bad that you just woke up absolutely /screaming/ at the top of your lungs during a nightmare. The only reason he knew what was happening was because Bepo went to drop off some food for you, and then ran once he heard the screaming.

After a while of some studying on Depression, Law tried everything that he could to at least /try/ to get you to speak with him...But, after a few weeks of this, he started to get tired of chasing you.

“Y/n-ya...At least let me check for injuries.” He said as he sat on the floor, leaning against your bedroom door with a frown....No response.

He could hear silent sobbing and hiccups behind him, which hurt because he didn’t know how to help you! it drove him Mad!

He was about to give up, sighing in irritation. As he started to walk away, he heard the bedroom door start to click open. You peaked your head out tiredly, face stained with dried and fresh tears, your face all red from not just crying but from stress as well.

Seeing you so Broken hurt him. He’s been there before, he’d never wish to see his friends be broken like this...Let alone his crush.

You opened the door wider so that way he could come in, “...sorry....For the mess...” You weakly spoke, allowing him to enter your room.

Once the two of you were in your room, you had shut the door, then locked it behind you...Eventually turning to face Law, the next moved startled him

You were so tired from the depression night terrors, the screaming, the crying and well...Everything else...That you just fainted into his arms! “Y-Y/n-ya??” He questioned as he stood still. No response...Well, nothing with words anyways. A soft snore leaked passed your slightly open mouth

You had fallen asleep, quite literally in his arms. And he didn’t know how to handle it. You were his crush after all! What was he supposed to do!? Move you away!? Fuck.

He calmed down and carried you bridal style in his arms, thanking God that you were a heavy sleeper, and shuffled his way onto your messy bed, kicking his shoes off at least before getting comfortable.

Another week had passed since that night, and throughout that week, law would give orders to Bepo and Penguin to take control of the ship while he stayed put. he would only move to take a piss/shit or a quick shower before rushing to your side again. He’d forgo the shower if waking you would cause you to feel alone and start crying again.

Once that week had passed though, you had woken up to feel a body underneath you. Blinking, you were confused as to what was happening. You then blushed a deep crimson red seeing Law underneath you, holding you so tightly to him that you could hardly breathe properly because of it.

Law had woken up after feeling your movements to try and get out of bed and take a shower, since you hadn’t taken a proper one in the past three weeks due to your depressive state hitting you like a two ton truck.

You then felt an arm snake around your lower waste, pinning you down of sorts, which made you jump a bit and turn to see who’s it was. Only to see Law wide awake and looking upwards at you

A brief silence filled the room before Law had spoke. “Y/n-ya......You’re Ok.” he says quietly, trying not to startle you...Soon, the memories of what you went through during your depressive state had hit you. You saw everything that happened. And then you saw that Law had tried his hardest to get you to feel ok.

You started to cry again, which made him frown in worry, only to . be taken aback by the sudden tackle hug you were doing, “Law!” You kept muttering in between your hiccupped sobs as you held him.

All Law did was rub your head gently and held you close to him again. He didn’t know how to respond. “....You saved me.....” You commented, now hovering over him with a shaky smile.

Those words. Those three single words made his heart melt with pure happiness. A feeling he hasn’t had in a LONG while. Despite the fact that he hated being called a Hero, if he could save /you/ from death? Then he’ll take being called a Hero by you any day.

You just kept hiccupping as you cried of happiness, but that was easily silenced with Law’s next action. You felt Law’s rougher lips against your own, which easily made you stop crying. He broke the kiss after a while and smiled back, “...I’m glad that your Ok y/n-ya.” he says before pulling you down for another kiss

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 3

Bundy

Cult girl gets some unbelievable news.

Trigger warnings: death, emotional manipulation, discussion of cult leaders Koresh, Jones as well as Ted Bundy

"Who the fuck are you, and what the shit are you doing with my dead cousin's phone?" You said, the slam of the car door audible from the speaker.

"Cheerio to you too, [F/N]." Anna answered.

You brought the phone to your chest to muffle the speaker and heaved a sigh.

"It's fucking Anna." You told Hannibal as he climbed into the car.

He buckled his seatbelt. "Put it on speaker."

You pressed the speaker button. "Froot Loops. Why do you have Theresa's phone?"

"Don't you remember?" She asked. "I took it when she died. Hers had a much better camera than my old one. I thought I told you to update that in your contacts?"

"Oh yeah, I do remember that." You nodded. "The body wasn't even cold and you'd already gotten to grave-robbing."

"Hey, that's my sister you're talking about." Anna snapped. "Show a little respect."

You rolled your eyes so far back into your skull you could practically see your brain cells dying. "Why are you calling, Anna? I'm fairly fucking certain I told both you and grandma to never speak to me again."

"Well, grandma won't be doing much speaking anymore." Anna snapped. "Because she's dead."

You sighed. It wasn’t the first time you heard those words, and it was never true. Faking her death was the hammer in her gaslighter toolkit. Meaning that the desired outcome could be produced just as effectively using a combination of other tools, but none were as efficient as a good old-fashioned bashing. The first time, you went through the whole five stages in ten minutes to really sell that you felt something other than relief at her passing. This time, you didn’t have the energy. 

“Did somebody finally strangle her to death?” You asked. “Shame, I would have liked to do it myself.” 

“Are you so completely void of human emotion that you can’t even pretend to be sad?” Anna shouted. 

“No, because I think this is another one of her manipulations.” You explained. “She probably roped you in thinking I’d believe it if it came out of your mouth. But the joke’s on her, because you’ve been her puppet since preschool.”

“You really are something else, [F/N].” Her voice wobbled, as if on the verge of tears. “The woman who raised us had a stroke and died. That’s not a manipulation, it’s the truth!” 

You began to consider the possibility that Anna wasn’t lying. Your voice took on a more solemn tone as you resigned to give her the benefit of the doubt. "A stroke, huh?"

"She died in the hospital." She said, softly.

There was real emotion in her voice. You thought back to that high school production of Legally Blonde, which proved that she was not skilled enough at acting to fake it.

You sighed. The crushing realization that you may very well have been the jerk in this conversation hit you. "So, what now?"

"I know better than to ask you to help out with the funeral." She said. "You didn't come to Theresa's, after all."

The reason you gave for not going to Theresa's funeral was schoolwork. It was a flimsy excuse, but hid your real reasons well enough. Those were much touchier. You couldn't bear the thought of listening to people lie and embellish stories of your cousin's positive influences on people's lives. But you also couldn't bear the fact that at least some of it wouldn't be lies.

You were the one that killed her. Your fiancé chopped up her body and served it to your friends for dinner. Theresa was a sociopath, a narcissist, and plenty other highlights in the DSM-5, but the pain she left after her death was real. It was the most real thing about her. You weren't desensitized enough to face that.

"Good call." You answered, flatly.

"Liam and I will be flying out tomorrow night." She said. "I know I'm in no position to be asking for favors, but if you could come pick us up from the airport-"

"Sure." You answered with a nod. You didn't know what exactly you were agreeing to as you did. Anna's words were just dissipating into the air, hardly reaching your ears.

"Thanks." She said, as emotionlessly as you. That was perhaps the most mutual understanding you'd ever achieved with Anna. And it only lasted a couple of seconds.

That was about as natural a conclusion to the conversation as you could have hoped for, so you hung up.

Hannibal pulled into the driveway and turned off the car. "What are you thinking, love?"

You leaned your head against the window and looked up at the few visible stars. "I've spent so many years wishing her dead and now that it's finally happening, I don't know what to feel."

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, knowing exactly how to keep you grounded when your mind started to wander off. You rested your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes. He kissed you on the head.

"I thought her dying meant I never had to think about her again." You shrugged. "But now I'm thinking about her and hating every minute of it. And that probably means I loved her. Which is terrifying to think about."

"You think about Jim Jones and David Koresh quite a bit, don't you?" Hannibal asked, squeezing you tight. "Do you love them?"

You shook your head. "That's different. That's academic curiosity."

"But why do we remember them?" Hannibal posited, stroking your arm. "Is it reverence?"

"It's to learn." You answered. "To make sure history doesn't repeat itself."

"Death isn't a sacred thing, my love." He whispered. "Don't feel bad for remembering her as cruel. That's what she was. Don't let anyone forget it."

You chuckled. "Did you know that when Ted Bundy died, a bunch of people near the prison shut their breakers off so the electrocution would be more painful?"

"Interesting." He said, referring less to the fact itself and more to the reason why it came to mind when it did.

"That is to say, I don't actually feel bad that she's dead." You clarified. "I feel bad because I know I should and I don't."

Hannibal pulled you into his arms and placed a kiss on your forehead. "I thought after four blissful years together, you would know you don't have to pretend around me."

You lowered your head. "I guess I'm just scared that if I take off my person suit around you, I'll never be able to put it back on."

"You never need to worry about that, my love." He assured you. “I know it’s scary, but all it takes is a little practice.” 

“In that case,” You felt a smile creeping onto your face, so you let it. “I think we should celebrate.” 

"Well that can be arranged." Hannibal rolled your hair. "With a bottle of Cava in my office."

You felt a laugh coming on, but it just came out as an ugly wheeze. "That is so unethical. I would love to."

"No," He corrected, opening the driver's side door. "It would be unethical to empty a bottle of wine down that pretty throat of yours without a little food."

"It's the middle of the night, Hanni." You objected, though the rumbling of your stomach told a different story. You slammed the car door shut.

Hannibal smiled to himself, disregarding your protests entirely. "Foie gras au torchon, with a bit of brioche, perhaps?"

"Well that sounds like a proper celebration." You grinned, tightening your grip on your clutch excitedly. “Do you mind if I get cleaned up?” 

“Of course not, love, take your time.” Hannibal said, releasing you from his embrace. 

You headed towards the house, a little extra spring in your step. 

“Oh, [F/N]?” He called out after you. 

You looked over your shoulder. “Yeah?” 

“That thing you said about Ted Bundy.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m sorry to tell you, but that’s a myth.” 

You frowned, feeling kind of stupid. “Shit. I really wanted it to be true.” 

Hannibal smiled, reassuringly. “But hundreds of people still celebrated his death.”