#that moment when you hear a machin making the wrong noise and you know it's going to be either expensive

[the-maddest-robot]

I've worked in a chemistry lab, they had a room with all the analysis and purification equipment. There was a constant noise due to the various pumps (vacuum, solvent, ...) and valves. After just a few days working there I could telle exactly with machin was doing what task and at what point it was in that process just based upon the noise they made.

[jungwnies]

wreckage - charles leclerc (3/4)

୨ৎ : pairing : charles leclerc x wife!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : as charles fights for his life, his wife faces the hardest decision: let go or fight for him. a small miracle gives hope for recovery.

୨ৎ : genre : emotional fiction, very... very... emotional, again ୨ৎ : tws : car accident/injury, arguments/conflict, anxiety/panic, trauma, medical trauma. ୨ৎ : wc : 1676

part one | part two | part three | part four

They say that the hardest part of love is knowing when to let go. The decision to hold on is easy—it’s the decision to release, to trust that the other person will be okay without you, that’s the hard part.

You’ve been sitting in the sterile, white hospital room for hours, each minute feeling like a year. Charles’s body is hooked up to so many machines, monitors flashing with numbers that seem foreign to you. His face, once so full of life, now looks pale, bruised, and still. They told you to prepare yourself for the worst, but you haven’t let yourself believe it. Not yet.

Not while there's still hope.

You’re not even sure what you're hoping for anymore. Some miracle, maybe. But deep down, you know the odds. They’ve been giving you the numbers—stats you can’t quite process, numbers you can’t make sense of. His condition is critical, and they’ve told you, over and over again, that his survival chances are slim. His organs are struggling, his internal injuries severe. The brain scans were grim at first, showing little to no activity.

But you can’t let yourself fall into that darkness. Not yet.

The room feels too cold, too empty.

"How are his stats?" you ask quietly, though you already know the answer.

The nurse glances at you, her face trying to remain neutral. "Not good. His heart rate’s been fluctuating. His oxygen levels aren’t improving, either. We’re doing what we can, but his body’s fighting against us." She hesitates, looking back at the monitors. "We’re not sure how much longer we can keep him stable."

You nod, feeling the weight of every word, but you can’t give up. Not yet.

Minutes turn into hours. You stay by his side, holding his hand, whispering to him. Every time you speak, you tell him how much you love him, how much you need him to come back. You’re not sure if he can hear you, but it doesn’t matter. You need him to know.

And then, just as you’re beginning to feel the overwhelming weight of your decision, something unexpected happens.

The steady beep of the heart monitor suddenly begins to accelerate, growing faster and faster. You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest. Something’s wrong.

The nurse rushes over, her face pale as she watches the monitor. "His heart rate’s spiking," she mutters. "It’s too fast. His blood pressure’s dropping."

The room erupts into action as doctors rush in, all moving in synchronized chaos. You’re shoved aside as they begin adjusting the equipment, calling out orders, but your mind goes blank. You try to focus, but it feels like everything is spinning.

"His stats are crashing," one doctor says, his voice tense. "We need to stabilize him now."

"Is it time?" you ask, barely able to speak over the noise. "Should we—"

But before you can finish, a loud, sharp sound cuts through the room—the unmistakable alarm of a failing heartbeat. The doctor turns toward you, his eyes filled with grim determination. "I’m afraid we’ve reached the point where his body might not be able to hold on much longer."

Your breath hitches in your throat. Everything feels like it’s slipping away. You squeeze Charles’s hand tighter, as if willing him to come back to you.

But then, as if the universe is playing some cruel game, the chaos calms, just for a moment.

The alarms start to fade into silence, and the doctor presses his fingers to the side of Charles’s neck, feeling for a pulse. Your heart lurches, praying for any sign of life. The seconds feel like hours.

Suddenly, the doctor looks up, his eyes widening. "Wait… there’s something." He leans in, checking the monitors again. "His blood pressure’s stabilizing. His heart rate’s slowing down to a more normal rhythm."

You barely dare to breathe, your eyes never leaving Charles’s face.

The nurse who’s been working on him moves closer, shaking her head in disbelief. "It’s like he’s coming back."

You don’t know what to think. The last few minutes have felt like an eternity, and now, you’re afraid to believe it. "What’s happening?" you whisper, your voice trembling.

The doctor looks up at you, and for the first time, there’s a flicker of hope in his eyes. "It seems like he’s fighting. His body’s responding… it’s too early to say for sure, but this is a good sign."

You stare at Charles, trying to process the sudden shift. Is this the miracle you’ve been waiting for, or just another false hope?

The minutes stretch on, and then, just as you begin to allow yourself a small breath of relief, the monitor lets out another shrill, jagged alarm—the unmistakable sound of a fatal arrhythmia. A shocking wave of panic shoots through you as the machine flashes with an erratic, spiking rhythm.

"V-fib!" The doctor shouts, his voice urgent. "We’re losing him. Get the defibrillator ready."

The nurse scrambles to prepare the machine, and you feel your stomach drop out. This can't be happening. Not now.

"Charles!" you whisper, gripping his hand harder, your eyes welling up. "Please."

The doctors are already on him, paddles in hand, but it feels like time is standing still. Your eyes dart from the monitors to Charles’s face, feeling as if your heart has stopped with his. Then, the shock.

The force of the defibrillator sends a jolt through his chest, and the monitor flickers. Nothing.

You close your eyes briefly, bracing for the worst.

"Again," the doctor orders, and another round of defibrillation. This time, there’s a slight blip, a change. It’s not much, but it’s something.

The doctor presses the paddles down once more, adjusting the settings. "One more time. We need him back."

The seconds stretch as they try again, and then finally, the heart monitor begins to beat again—slowly, but steadily.

"Heartbeat stable," the nurse breathes.

Your breath escapes your lips in a shaky exhale. You look at Charles again, feeling a rush of relief flood through you as the panic of the past few minutes settles into a wary calm. But it’s still not over. His fight isn’t done.

Just as you think the worst is behind you, Charles’s mother bursts into the room, her eyes frantic as she surveys the scene. Her voice cracks as she calls out his name, "Charles!"

You feel a flash of guilt. You should’ve called her sooner, but there had been no time. The doctors had been focused, and you’d been too overwhelmed to think clearly.

You step aside, giving her space, but you can’t look away from the man you love, still unconscious, his body fighting to survive.

The doctor steps over to you both. "We’re stabilizing him, but we’re not out of the woods yet. We need to make some decisions."

Charles’s mother looks at you, her face pale with concern. She reaches for your hand. "Whatever it is… I trust you. You’re his wife, and you know him better than anyone. What do you think we should do?"

You swallow hard, your voice barely above a whisper. "I… I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what to do. He’s… he’s still fighting. But we’ve been here for so long, and I don’t know how much longer we can wait."

Her gaze softens. "You don’t have to do this alone. I trust you. We’re a family. We make these decisions together." She squeezes your hand tightly. "But if you think there’s still a chance for him, then we have to keep fighting too."

You look back at Charles, uncertainty and fear clouding your judgment. How do you even begin to make this decision? His body is failing him, but his heart—his spirit—is still trying.

"Let’s give him more time," you decide, your voice shaking with fear but firm with resolve. "But if his chances are too slim… if we’re just keeping him alive on machines, then we need to think about letting him go."

The doctor nods solemnly. "We’ll run more tests. But if things don’t improve soon, we may need to consider other options."

As the minutes pass, the machines continue to monitor Charles’s every movement, every breath, and the room remains tense, every decision weighed in silence. But then, something begins to shift.

"His blood pressure’s coming back up," the nurse announces quietly. "And… there’s more brain activity. His oxygen levels are improving too."

You feel like you might be dreaming. "Is this really happening?"

The doctor steps forward, shaking his head in disbelief. "I’ve never seen anything like this. His vitals are stabilizing. I think… I think he’s fighting."

"Fighting?" you ask, still not quite believing what you’re hearing.

The nurse, who’s been checking his monitors, speaks softly, her voice a little hopeful. "He knows you’re here. I think he’s holding on for you."

And in that moment, you realize: you’re not alone in this fight. Charles is fighting for you too.

The room fills with a cautious optimism, but the road ahead is still uncertain. Will he wake up? Will his organs continue to improve?

Only time will tell.

Then, the unthinkable happens.

"His breathing," the nurse says, voice shaky, "it’s improving. He’s trying to breathe on his own. We can extubate him. He doesn't need the tube anymore."

You stare, wide-eyed, as they carefully begin the process of removing the intubation tube, your heart in your throat.

Everything changes in a moment.

There’s still a long way to go, but for the first time in hours, you feel a flicker of hope.

He’s still here. And he’s fighting.

But you know deep down that the next few days will be critical.

You stand there, feeling like you’ve crossed a line between despair and hope. But Charles has always been a fighter. And if he’s fighting, so will you.

For him. For the life you built together. For love.

You look down at him, and the smallest of smiles begins to tug at your lips.

Maybe… just maybe… he’ll make it through.

And for now, that's enough.

taglist: @emryb , @htpssgavi , @aleatorio1234 , @ayap4paya , @prttylight , @meadhbhcavanagh , @iluvnewtie , @hiireadstuff , @armystay89 , comment to be added

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[idiaa-shroxd]

THE PREFECT’S CAT CAFE ꒱ ❝ dormleaders. ❞

SUMMARY: after an off-handed comment made by Idia, you find yourself taking what he said into genuine consideration. instead of just bringing some cats into your guest room though, why not find a way to have both cats and profits while being comfy?

warnings; gn!reader x dormleaders. long post. the keep reading line may repeat a bit of text, but please continue reading if it does. inspired by this video. by interacting with this post you agree you’ve read through my navigation and i hold no responsibility for the content you view. part i. part ii. part iii.

PROLOGUE.

“Are you really sure about this, Henchman?” Grim asks, crossing his arms as he huffs, jealousy laced in his voice. He was used to your occasional strange idea, but he considered something to be sincerely wrong with you at the moment if you thought bringing other stray cats into his territory were a smart idea, not to mention the way you were cuddling them and scratching their bellies. Where did you even find this many cats? Did you make a deal with Azul?

Puffing your cheek slightly, you ignore your cat’s comment while putting the collar on the last one. “Do you want to have fancy tuna?” You reply, fixing the collar’s bow as you smile at your hard work. “You’re not believing in me, Grim. This is an untapped market potential, in case you forgot we have a whole dorm here at school dedicated to gamers and introverts practically. And you know what they like? Cats and silence!” You tell him as you look at your array of cats.

You’d found yourself surprised that Professor Trein actually entertained your question if he knew where to find cats on sage island, even more so when Crowley eventually relented to letting you keep a few cats in exchange for not bringing up the fact you’ve been through how many overblots against him for awhile. This was a chance you could not lose. “There’s cat cafe’s in my world with relatively simple rules and a quiet atmosphere. We simply need to make it a reality, and lucky for us we have a magical furniture tool and an investor.” You say, getting up from the chair and walking toward your little notebook to check off another item off the list.

“You have an investor?” He asked, not quite believing you as he raised a brow. Hearing his disbelief you chuckle a little, pointing your pen at a corner of the room to which he jumps in surprise, letting out a shock ‘nyagh!’ “Idia has been here for the past two hours, ever since I told him what I was going to do. I don’t know how or why he has money, but he has it and that’s enough for me.” You say, Grim still surprised he hadn’t notice Idia once in well over two hours. He still wasn’t convinced on your plan, but if it got him tuna and money, your plan surely can’t be that bad?

HEARTSLABYUL. riddle rosehearts.

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS.

“Are there any rules I need to follow while I’m here?” Riddle asks, a little antsy as it were his first time in a room with so many cats before. It were against the queen’s rules to bring cats to a formal affair, but this wasn’t too formal, it were a cafe. And you did get explicit permission from the headmage so indulging in you just a tiny bit wouldn’t hurt, right? With a laugh, you point in the direction of one of the walls with the rules on display next to a signed plaque from the headmaster giving his approval to your whims.

“The rules are really simple. No forcing or disturbing the cats, do not go around picking them up, do not let them have your drinks, and refrain from running around and making too much noise. Outside drinks, food, and shoes are not permitted for sanitary reasons. You can only feed the cats treats sold by the prefect or in the gacha machines, and you have to log in which cat you’ve fed to ensure one cat doesn’t get particularly overweight.” You read off the board the rundown as he nodded, determined to follow the rules. As he stepped inside your now transformed guest room, his eyes sparkled as one of the cats immediately begun purring at him. Perhaps a cat cafe truly wasn’t too bad a place.

Riddle was really weary of your little project when you first told him about it. He really stopped lecturing you after you explained you had all the proper permission and even an investor. He had no idea who on campus would help you with this, but after hearing it were Idia he thought that maybe you were actually a bit more serious than he realized about your cat cafe plans. He takes awhile to convince to actually come, but after maybe seeing a picture you text him of the kitties with the caption, “I want Riddle to play with me!” he concedes ever so slightly into your demands.

His eyes light up in genuine happiness as little cats meow at his feet. His only other real experience with cats was Grim as his mother would not let him near them, but now he understands what the appeal to cats is about. They’re all so soft and he may use an occasional toy, but he also gets to hear their affection purrs as they nudge him nearly making him forget why he was so angry just ten minutes prior when he was collaring a student again. He isn’t a regular since he’s busy, but whenever you happen to ask he tries to make time, only because you’ve asked him to or his dorm members ask him to visit, not because he’s succumbed to being a cat person, he says, lying through his teeth.

His favorite cat is a Queendom of Roses (British) shorthair with pure dark grey fur and orange-yellow eyes. He wasn’t too sure how to act around the cats but this one plopped it’s chubby body onto his lap while nipping at his hand demanding to be pet while meowing right to his face and Riddle could not say no to that face. The cat is not as furry as the others and he quite prefers that, less hair to clean off of his clothes. He thought he would of preferred a less demanding cat, but Sesame is very calming and distracting for his anger. He at some point also noticed cat collar’s slightly changing and asked you about it.. and you found a gift from him, more specifically Sesame received a gift. His previous yellow collar replaced with a higher quality rose-red collar with white outlines of rose petals engravings. Now instead of a silent bell he had a rose attached to the front of the collar, and at the back of the collar was a bow designed to resemble leaf petals.

Absolutely plays favorites, he’s still a bit weary for long haired cats to approach him but won’t tell them to go away, and he always feels guilty if he pets a cat that is not Sesame. He would be willing to buy cat popsicles and cat treats on occasion but tries not to overly them as he knows you’re trying to not get them to be overweight and stay within a healthy range. He’s also able to get some work done when he visits, though not too often as his cat takes up most of his time and does not like him to share his attention with his paperwork, deliberately plopping down onto the paper if he deems he has not received enough attention. You could probably get away with asking him a single stupid question while he is relaxed. Only one, so use that question wisely.

Overall is a good guest since he keeps quiet to himself and his cat, and if he’s talking he’s really quiet about it since he respects your rules. He follows every single one to heart, not only that but also makes sure other guests are taking it to heart as well.

SAVANACLAW. leona kingscholar.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR.

“Shut up, herbivore.” The beastmen hissed as you tried to hide your overly smug expression. “I haven’t even said anything yet, Kingscholar.” You tease as he opens one of his eyes and snarls at you in a nonthreatening manner, one hand running through his hair as the other runs his fingers through the fur of the sleeping cat on his chest, unable to stop you from taking pictures without disturbing said cat.

“Aren’t you two adorable?” You can’t help but snicker as you snap another photo of the annoyed beastman. You were definitely going to post this on your magicam story when you were free. Distracted by your phone, you fail to notice his ears twitching ever so slightly as he looks away from you, his face just a little bit darker in color than before as he shuts his eyes, going back to sleep.

Leona had no interest in being friendly with a bunch of strays you brought in from who knows where. He actually laughed in your face the first time you offered him some coupon to your cat cafe, he had no interest being near rowdy students. That was until he had the most annoying day alive, a conversation twice with Malleus in a single hour and he used you as his stress relief, nearly knocking you onto the floor as he plopped onto you after following you into your cat cafe.

No one else was there as you hadn’t opened, and he understood the appeal. The room wasn’t overcool with regulated temperatures perfect for a cat, with dim lighting and soft music. You even had different parts of your cafe for different guests as you place him onto one of the longer sofas, finally getting him off of you as you poor him a drink and listen to his complaint. At some point he had a group of cats just laying on him and purring against him and snuggling and he’s fallen asleep, not waking up until you inform him you’re closing for the night, and not to move too abruptly with the cat still sleeping on his chest.

His favorite cat had claimed him during their first fateful encounter, being a persian breed. The cat is very fluffy with creamy white fur and golden eyes, enjoying swaying her tail against Leona’s nose and kneading at his chest, arms, feet, wherever she gets her paws on. She does not enjoy being disturbed but does enjoy the occasional pet and spends most of her time just napping with Leona and pawing at him. He claims the cat is noisy every once in awhile but he can be seen petting her with one hand as the other shields his eyes as he lays down, letting her purr against him. He flat out told you he was replacing her stupid black collar with a new one, a brown silk collar that’s just a tad bit loose, with a few golden engravings and a beautiful bow on the back in a lighter brown and golden moons. Nebula also gets cat popsicles every once in awhile that he gets Ruggie to buy from you.

He is used to a bunch of different cats crawling over him as they seem to naturally approach him, and he’s very smug about that to Malleus, but he does have his favorite. Nebula is his number one cat and he will pick her up even though you have a no disturbing the cats rule and he will place her beside him as he has a drink as he lays down in his unofficial spot while she climbs atop him and goes to take a nap. He’s not jealous but he just does not allow other people to touch his cat is all. Whenever you come over to bring him a drink he’s trying to pull you down and shamelessly puts an arm around you as you ignore his clinginess and return back to your cats and cafe. May use a cat toy on occasion but not when you are watching because you get a stupid grin and ask him if he feels like pawing at the toy and he tries not to leave you on a street corner.

Overall a horrible guest but a decent guest. He definitely does not follow every rule and acts grumpy but he’s very quiet except the occasional snore. He will also take a very long time to leave because you need to scratch his ears because he’s not “fully awake”. But in terms of cat parenting he’s a pretty good guest.

OCTAVINELLE. azul ashengrotto.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO.

“So… do you still want to complain?” You ask, raising a brow as you stare at the bespectacled boy with a smug grin. He swore that there was zero charm to a cat cafe and that you stole his business from him just two weeks ago, but now he had a cup of coffee between his fingers sitting on the sofa with his eyes closed, a purring cat on his lap with documents on the table spread out as he worked. Azul’s face flustered a slight tint of red as he let out a small cough much to your and the twin’s amusement.

“That was the past, prefect. We found a way to make this arrangement mutual benefitting now, no need to bring up old problems.” He tries to sound professional as you snicker. Two weeks ago was not really a distant past, but you did work thing out. “Whenever you want a refill just let me know, I’ll leave you guys alone for now, I’ve got more to do.” You say, deciding not to tease the octomer further as you retreat back into the kitchen, leaving him to be teased by his two ‘friends’.

Azul had stormed into your establishment one day with a single goal in mind, to figure out how you had stolen his business. He came perplexed, how were you allowed cats on campus? Where did you get the money for renovation? Who was your supplier? Most importantly why did everyone favor the prefect’s cat cafe over the Monstro Lounge with quality service and quality food?

He had sat you down trying to be scary but you ended up putting him. You had offered him a proposal of a collaboration. If anyone orders a special item off the Monstro Lounge menu that day before coming into your cafe they’d be eligible to receive a little something from your cafe for free such as a cat popsicle or an extra thirty minutes added onto their time. He was weary at first but people came to the Monstro Lounge as though they were giving away free money as they came in groups. You both benefitted from this as you did not want food near your kitties that weren’t for them as that posed health and safety issues. He doesn’t know how but he also finds himself on occasion coming to your cafe during breaks as it was surprisingly calming despite his absolute hatred for these innocent cats when he originally entered.

His favorite cat is a Queendom of Roses (British) longhair with dark orange-esque fur with a fluffy white front and light blue eyes. He has no clue as to how but somehow this cat became his favorite as he purred against Azul’s shoes, nudging at him before eventually crawling into his lap. The cat makes little disturbance as Azul works, the purring soothing the octomer as he finishes up, occasionally finding his sleeves being tugged at when Butterscotch declares he’s been working enough by demanding pats. Butterscotch has also found himself on the end of receiving a lot of cat popsicles recently, and a collar upgrade. His collar went from a plain leathery texture to some high quality collar blue collar with tentacle engravings, and a sea patterned bowtie at the front of the collar, the center being a pretty shell.

He entertains other cats but keeps an eye out for his favorite, always reserving his lap space just for him. He mainly spends his time at the cafe after a large rush or when he has time off to work in the silence with his cat instead of the silence of his office. He actually finds himself working a lot faster in your cafe than all alone and he gets free refills on his coffee, so technically he is profiting than if he used his own supply, he justifies to himself. When he finishes work he may on occasion be found talking to you attempting to flirt poorly as you remain oblivious as he has no interest in manga or gaming. May occasionally be found brushing his favorite kitty’s fur and telling him he is going to become fat like he once was then still feeding him the treat regardless because he is very polite.

Overall is a very good guest as long as he has his kitty. Gets a bit antsy if he has to spend his time without his favorite as though he had been replaced but does not cause a scene or whine. Please make sure before you close he gets to squish his cat’s paw and knows he has not been replaced with a different cat dad.

SCARABIA. kalim al-asim.

KALIM AL-ASIM.

“Aha, prefect! Could I have another cat treat, please?” Kalim pleaded with you as you shake your head, doing your best at giving the puppy eyed dorm leader a firm no. He already had two today, that was enough. “But look at Taffy, she’s starving!” He says as you raise a brow, staring at the cat that was getting plumper by the day.

“Kalim, I love you like my actual child but no more. She’s even eating the other cat’s leftovers now at lunch time.” You scold the boy as he apologizes and pleads he will stop after maybe just one more treat as you sigh, putting your foot down and eyeing Jamil pleadingly who only pretends he can’t see you as he plays with his cat. “I’ll even pay four times the amount!” He said, pouting as you shook your head, ready to dive into the same discussion you’ve had with him the past three days.

Two hours, that is how long it took for Kalim to hear about your business venture and ask, beg, you to let him see. Apparently Idia had told Ortho who told the board game club members and word got around to Cater and Cater told him and Lilia and now he was bouncing off the walls in excitement with Jamil in tow. He was already prepared to meet the kitties and Jamil said it was okay so could you please go now? When he hears that there’s rules to follow he listens intently and follows them as best as he can remember, but he’s just so excited about the cats and trying your drinks! Also looking at the interior and more. Wait you also have gaming pcs and manga? He has to check those out too! His hyperactiveness could not be contained and you were a little concerned for the cats.

You were right to assume Kalim could not be contained for more than two seconds as he pspspspss at all of the kitties, toy in both hands as he was already playing with them, cats crawling on his lap and nudging at him, biting at him playfully and surrounding him as he held a cat popsicle out towards them, talking your’s and Jamil’s ears off about how fluffy and wonderful of a place this is. He had to tell every single person in his dorm about it, and his family, and people from other dorms as well, this was the greatest place on campus so far! Do you also need help buying the cat food or anything? He’d be willing to be another investor in a heartbeat but Jamil talks him out of it, partially. His favorite thing is official a cat in his lap as he drinks your own tea brew that he gifted you from his country… which may cost more than your entire life.

His favorite cat is a maine coon with black fur and green eyes. This cat has the world’s finest at her fingertips if she just meows. Kalim knows it’s wrong to pick favorites but he can’t deny that she is his favorite when she headbutts his chin and meows at him for minutes at a time even if he’s petting her. She’s extremely fluffy and starting to become pudgier but he doesn’t mind that as he gets her more treats. Her pink collar has long since been discarded as she now has a full wardrobe, but her collar is now the finest white silk and handmade embroidery with real gemstones and solid gold for the silent bell. Even the bow on the back of the collar is large and beautiful, she’s worth more than the students that actually visit the cafe and you hope you aren’t robbed.

Kalim does play favorites but also doesn’t. Things are very clear he has a favorite cat but he will play with any and every cat that approaches him. He respects your do not disturb the cat rule, really, but he just really wants to pet every single kitty. He always says he wants to try one of the pcs but ends up forgetting as he works on his homework failing to pay attention while petting Taffy and giving her kisses and then eventually falling asleep because he’s all tired out. He has read a few of the mangas but he reads it to Taffy specifically and Jamil has to remind him to be quiet for your other guests. He may have also asked his family to visit your cafe so you may be visited by one of the world’s richest couple in the future when the campus opens for outside guests.

Overall a great guest for the cats but a nightmare for you as he looks like a sad puppy when you refuse to let him buy treats. Also occasionally forgets and makes a loud noise when he enters and sees his favorite cat, and he can be a little distracting because he can’t sit still for too long at times.

POMEFIORE. vil schoenheit.

VIL SCHOENHEIT.

“When in Twisted Wonderland did this happen..?” You mutter to yourself as you brewed another cup of tea for Vil using the brand he specifically gave you for himself when he visited. He was adamantly refusing to even set foot in your guest room after hearing what you had done, but now Rook was taking a photo of him elegantly sitting down in one of your lounge chairs with a cat on his lap, purring loudly looking at the camera as though she understood how to pose and was a natural born model.

You bring the tea over to his table as he thanks you, lifting the cup and saucer elegantly as Rook takes a photo, already singing praises on how great it would look on his magicam as Vil looks confidently smug. You couldn’t believe this all happened just because Rook had said something about Neige and how cute it would be for a boy like him to be surrounded by cats. “Thank you for your patronage.” You say with a small smile on your lips, amused. Well at least a happy Vil is free promotion for your business on campus.

Vil was happy for you, really, but he was not going to visit the cat cafe even if you pleaded by his feet and rose someone from beyond this mortal realm to drag him in. That was until he heard Rook talking to you and Epel about how Neige would surely be so beautiful surrounded with cats and you agreeing and throwing in a comment about how it would make him seem more likeable and relatable. He knew Rook was a Neige fanboy but he couldn’t have you converting into one too, are you forgetting he’s the fairest of them all, and the only celebrity you should praise like that? If it is relatability you truly desire he can spare one afternoon at your cat cafe since he needs to check up on the place his dorm members have been spending their time at recently to ensure it is up to Pomefiore standard.

He originally looked as though he was going to fight one of the cats with how he was trying to mentally tell the long haired cats to stay away from him. He was so intimidating to even the cats that none were willing to approach him but one, a very snooty girl that begun pawing at his ankles, jumping up into his lap and kneading him as she claimed her seat. He found her demeanor pleasantly charming as she wasn’t that furry and she was good enough, he thought. He managed to get some high quality photos that did trend on magicam for the rare domestic sight of the Vil Schoenheit and a cat. It was surprisingly soothing for him and he did eventually come back where the cat once again claimed him as her’s.

His favorite cat is a siamese with cream white fur and black siamese patterns and bright blue eyes. She’s rather thin and does not shed fur all over his lap like some of the other cats. He makes sure to keep her fur shiny as he brushes her down and uses some toys on her. He refrains from often buying treats as she doesn’t seem fond of them and he doesn’t want her to be too overfed, a model should keep a strict diet. Her collar was replaced without even informing you, the old white one did not fit his or apparently her standard so he simply had to replace it for her. It was a pretty fancy dark blue color with golden engravings in the pattern of pomefiore’s insignias, a purely custom design, with a pretty bow in front, with a silent bell. It’s hard to believe she was ever a stray at one point.

He does not entertain most of the other cats beyond looking at them as he pets Iris. He knows his cat is a complete snob and will likely not entertain other guests, perched up high in her cat tree bed until he comes along so he would never cheat on her with being another cat’s dad. He has full faith that he is the only one that she will ever go to so he does try to stop by every once in awhile to make sure she’s getting the attention and grooming that is needed for a cat of her standard. He’s not into your gaming pcs or your manga corners, but does appreciate you do have school textbooks to borrow and a quiet study nook so that he can elegantly pet Iris with a cup of fine tea while doing his assignments as Rook fawns over them.

Overall a very good guest as long as you leave him alone. Follows your rules, does not talk loudly or much, and goes above and beyond with taking care of your cat that you begin to think it’s actually his cat he’s just letting you keep. You’re a little concerned he may just tell you he’s taking your cat with him once you graduate, but he is a rather good cat dad, at least!

IGNIHYDE. idia shroud.

IDIA SHROUD.

“I-di-a” You coo, bending down and whispering in the ear of the man currently on the floor, two cats surrounding him as he feeds them cat treats. The blue haired boy physically jolts upwards letting out a small whimper of utter shock of being spoken to as you chuckle. “Are you having fun?” You ask as he blushes, looking away from you as he turns his attention back to the cat pawing at his pant leg. “Ehehe, this is even better than watching the series finale to an anime live.” He whispers as one of the orange kitties crawls into his arms, headbutting him.

“You flatter me, glad to know you think so highly of my hard work. Ahem, our hard work.” You say as you pick up the other kitty, fixing their collar as you lightly run your fingers through the cat’s fur. Giving the cat a kiss to his nose and boop, you set him back down as you notice Idia staring at you only to blush insanely red as he looked away quickly from being caught. “Thank you for your hard work… prefect.” He quickly whispers much to your amusement.

Idia has become the number one patron. From the second class ends to the time you close for the evening Idia is right there petting the kitties. He’d actually volunteered to work for free, not as a waiter or anything but as a sort of cat playmate. He’d make sure the cats are satisfied and not bored and no one can touch him or look at him, but you said no, he needs to share the cats.

He’s the reason your wifi is amazing despite your run down dorm, and he makes sure absolutely everything regarding technology is perfect. It took him a bit to understand what you want and why that was necessary beyond you just saying cat cafes in your world have these things, but he understands what bliss is now. Anytime some machine seems even remotely broken he fixes it at a record pace.

His favorite cat had claimed him awhile back. A pure white ragamuffin that is extremely fluffy. The cat is extremely docile and she’d claim her spot in his lap, purring as he’d read manga or play on one of the cafe pcs, occasionally nibbling his finger when he squirms too much from gamer rage. Her original collar was a nice shade of orange, but he not so subtly changed it into one he got. A pretty light baby blue shade with small jewel engravings, a little silent bell at the front with a pretty bow on the back with golden stripes. You are partially convinced he genuinely does believe Ivory is his firstborn child.

He does play with other cats but has a favorite. He always pays for one cat popsicle a day at minimum to feed the cats and pays for other cat treats whenever he can because he is weak. He also is rigged at crane games so he can easily snack through the day never leaving the cafe. There are occasions you tell him stop feeding human snacks to the cat, they will get chubby. He ends up looking super offended on behalf of the kitties you dare said any one of them are chubby. When he’s not pampering the cats you can find him gaming in one of the pcs, grinding through an event. At moments like these do not approach him and leave him alone so he can forget he is actually in public and not his bedroom.

Overall a very respectful guest. He’s quiet, makes sure to respect the boundaries of the cats and the rules you’d set up, and does not cause any scenes. The only issue is getting him to leave may be a little difficult as he tries to give one more kiss… Or that he tries to come on your days off just to keep the little babies company. there’s also the occasion every so often that you can feel his gaze on you, only for you to catch him as he hides his face, the tips of his hair turning pink as he watches you work.

DIASOMNIA. malleus draconia.

MALLEUS DRACONIA.

“Child of man, could I please have one of those.. cat ice creams I believe they’re called?” Tsunotarou asked, eyes sparkling ever so slightly in childlike wonder as you let out a charming laugh, handing him a popsicle that was specifically made for cats to eat. He had always been fond on ice cream but now he had the ability to share it with someone else he liked, the cat that had claimed him a few weeks ago.

“Just one though, we don’t want to feed them too much now.” You say but know it will fall on deaf ears as you didn’t wish to ruin his fun. You didn’t think he had experience with cats before so you were pleasantly surprised one of your cats had practically claimed him, but it all worked out. “Worry not child of man, I won’t give him too many treats. Though I’m sure if I too were eating your cooking right now I wouldn’t be able to stop myself either.” Flustered by his comment, you leave him to play with the cat as you retreat behind the counter, he really was dangerous for reasons different than rumors.

He heard about your business venture from Lilia and was ready to pay a visit not caring if he scared off your guests but halted in his tracks when he heard you telling Sebek you were going to invite him. His mind tells him he has won the lottery and he retreats to fix his outfit waiting in the lounge for an hour until you reach Diasomnia’s doorsteps to speak with him. He is not listening as you greet him with a hug and tell him you’d like for him to come to Ramshackle for a surprise. Something about you also not opening the cafe today so it’d just be you and him so he’d be comfy, there’s really no reason to try and continue speaking he’s been charmed for over an hour, prefect.

He practically vibrates from sheer joy as he’s frozen, then rapidly shaking, then beaming as a cat waltzes up to him as though he owns the prince. He basically blue screens momentarily as the cat with such soft fur and pure innocent eyes meows up at him, pawing at his feet to be picked up. He picks up the cat as you watch curiously, finally figuring out he wasn’t listening to you at all as he stares at the cat’s eyes and then your’s. “Our child is beautiful.” He says as you raise a brow, shrugging it off as you tell him you’d brew him a black coffee and to sit wherever he would like. He instead chooses to sit at the counter bar, watching you and the cat that’s on his lap nipping at his fingers and demanding his attention as well. For the first time in awhile he feels as though something doesn’t fear him other than you.

His favorite cat is a ragdoll cat with white fur and black splotches and deep blue eyes. He claims this cat is your child and you have no idea what he’s thinking of but he seems happy as he shamelessly pulls out a cat toy and plays with him. Also slightly insults the cat by calling him brave or stupid as though a cat can comprehend what he means while mewling at him. Also asks you if he can also have a custom collar after Lilia tells him about his cat, and after you allow him to replace the old red collar he’s excited. Black is the color of royalty in the briar valley and Oatmeal has the privilege of wearing it on his new collar. A pretty black collar with green wings beside a silent bell that may be made of actual gold, along with a little dragon hood-cape and short plush horns you got him so your boys match.

Very possessive of Oatmeal. He will applaud other cats if they dare approach him but everyone knows he has a bias. He practically has been claimed by his cat and no one else is brave enough to go near his cat and no cat is brave enough to approach him, they are a perfect match. He has tried to take your cat back to Diasomnia but you have to remind him that the cat stays with you, he needs a proper schedule, friends, and he needs to stop being fed so many treats. He’s also incredibly smug about it and will come to the cafe on your off days as he talks to you petting Oatmeal and glaring at Leona on the opposite couch who’s busy petting Nebula but refrains from getting physical or suffer your wrath. You’d kicked both men out for an entire weekend.

Overall a good guest personally, but his reputation may cause some people to be scared of visiting. Regardless, he’s very polite to you and treats his cat very good, making sure to give him treats and enough exercise with a toy. May also overpay for coffee and start fights with Leona when you aren’t even open yet. In fact, how on earth did the two of them even get into your cafe? You literally just woke up and they’re spitting insults at one another.

EPILOGUE.

“Fnaygh! I guess I really am a business genius, Henchman.” Grim said as he dug into a can of fancy tuna, one that you had bought without having to worry about your budget for once. You expected success from Ignihyde students, but it seemed like your little business venture went above and beyond with students from all different dorms trying to be booking ahead of time and trying to visit your cat cafe.

“Right right, you’re the genius, Grim.” You laugh in response to your friend as you finished checking on the other cats, finishing up for the evening. In terms of profit, almost every single day you were fully packed with as much people you’d allow in at once, and you had to temporarily increase the charging rates. Despite the increase people still begun to visit, who knew the school filled with villainous kids would be so excited to pet some cats? Especially your regulars, they adored these cats enough they got the cats gift, not you, but the cat.

It was tough work to manage the guest room cafe all by yourself though, you had to admit to yourself. Perhaps you should take up Ace’s offer and idea at hiring some part time employees, your first year friends had already offered, so maybe you’d start training them for help?

a bit of a long post but i have had this thought for awhile ever since reading Idia’s guest room lines? So I figured I would just turn my headcanon into an actual written work. I have more ideas though for a separate post, but I am unsure if I’ll post it, but I do need to share my thought’s of Floyd’s favorite cat being a sphynx cat named prune that is very vocal and has a cozy ugly little sweater that Floyd likes to bathe with you.

©idiaa-shroxd. do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or use my works to train ai.

[byunpum]

Back to you | Part 1

Pair: Jake(human and avatar) x Neytiri x Human reader (trio couple)

Warning: None, i think kinda sad. More in future, maybe soft-smut in the future.

Note: I'm still alive after disappearing for 1 month. Ahh omg, it's been so long, I'm so sorry. A lot of things have happened, more good than bad. But we're back…and as I had posted. Here I bring you this story, based on my mini-series 'mama's boy'. Here I share with you how our characters are paired up. I hope you like it, and let me know what you think and if I should continue with the mini-series. Love ya <3

+Read 'Mama's boy' HERE+

AVATAR MASTERLIST| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (final)

You were feeling uncomfortable in the metal chair, which was placed next to the bonding machine, which allowed humans to use their avatars. Since the routine expedition, Jake had not returned. Everyone knew he was alive, but where was he? No one knew. Grace had asked you as a favor to monitor him until he returned. You weren't complaining, but you had avoided having any contact with Jake. He reminded you of things…Not even 20 minutes had passed, when the machine made a noise indicating that it would open. You get up from the chair as quickly as you can, to assist Jake. You help him open the lid, finding a confused, sweaty Jake with a stupid grin that made your heart pound. “You won't believe where I am?” says Jake, as you let out a big sigh and shift your gaze to Grace.

“Oh my god…you're back!!!” shouts grace from her desk. Coming towards you, she was already releasing a machine to take jake's blood pressure. “Grace…I'm in” says Jake, the man was lying on his shoulders. He was still a little weak, you force him to drink water from a bottle. Taking his chin to make him open his mouth. While grace looks at him with confusion. “What?” grace continues to work on adjusting the machine on his arm. Jake had been so many hours without using his body, he could pass out at any moment. “Yes…they accepted me. I'm inside their home” jake, looks at you. “You're in the tree home?” you ask. You watch as he nods his face quickly. Grace takes jake's face in her hands, and gives him a warm smile. “I can't believe it…are you serious?!!!” grace was shocked. They had tried to get in, but it was impossible. “I'm with a girl…ahhh netyy ahhh” jake tries to remember and pronounce the name correctly of the girl who is supposed to help him adjust. “Neytiri?” you speak softly, but loud enough for jake to hear you. “Yes her” jake speaks up.

Grace looks at you quickly and she can see the sadness in your gaze. You change your face and mood, moving away from Jake, helping him to put his weight down. Turning away from them, you bump into norm who had approached you moments before. “Are you okay?” norm asks, touching your shoulder, but you push him away. Walking as fast as you could away from them, you wanted to get out of there. You felt short of breath and were wiping away tears hiding your emotion. She was fine. It had been so long since you had heard from her. On the other side a group of friends are confused, “What's wrong with her, did I say something wrong?” asks Jake, looking at Grace. The woman was still looking towards the exit, sighing deeply. “It's a long story…come on out of there you need to rest and tell me everything” says grace, helping Jake into his wheelchair.

Lunchtime came quickly, and the entire team was gathered in the dining room eating dinner. The group of scientists were very excited and focused on every word that came out of Jake's mouth. It had been so long since they had been able to have a connection with the Omaticaya clan. Even grace was giving him their undivided attention. Meanwhile you and norm were standing a little away from the group, eating the disgusting food. You couldn't help but laugh at the look on norm's face, you could tell he was very upset. You kicked his foot a little, “hey get that face away” you scolded him, but you saw how he snapped with his teeth. “I can't stand this… it's a very unfair” norm says. “Unfair?” you ask, as you put a mouthful of food in your mouth. “Yes, Tom has been studying for 3 years and I've been studying for over 6 years…and where am I? sitting here, doing nothing. In fact, if anyone in the whole RDA deserved to be with the omaticaya clan, it's you. You've been in pandora all your life…you're part of the clan” speaks norm annoyed, seeing how you interrupt him with your index finger. “Ah ah was…past!!!” you speak, lowering your gaze for a moment. Some memories come to your head, yes, it was very true what norm said, you were once part of the omaticaya clan…but it's been so long. Maybe… they have forgotten about you. “Norm…I understand your discomfort, but there's nothing we can do, the pretty boy was lucky to be accepted” you joke, seeing Norm's disgusted face. “Jake pretty boy?!!!! You have to be crazy” you laugh loudly, looking at the group of scientists who were still harassing jake. “Well…you were tom's girlfriend, that says a lot about you” Norm says, now he was the one laughing at you. “We weren't boyfriend and girlfriend…we just spent a few nights together” you speak up, laughing with your friend.

While you and Norm were still laughing, for a moment you see Jake look at you and give you a smile. You return it, seeing how jake makes a help signal with his hands. You laugh even harder, but you feel Norm pinch you “don't be fooled by the enemy” says Norm “Norm let me go!!!” you roll your eyes back. Norm could sometimes be very very annoying. But you were used to it, he had always been like that.

You remember when norm and tom came to pandora. Just for their studies, and you were the first to meet them. From then on… you had grown very fond of them. When the news that tom had been killed reached your ears, you were heartbroken, again…but you got over it little by little. But with the new member of the group, it wasn't very easy. Since Jake had arrived, he hadn't taken his interest in you, and to make things worse for you. Grace had delegated all responsibility for Jake's avatar to you, so if anything happened to him it was your fault. And the last thing you wanted was for a $20 million dollar avatar to happen to him, or else the RDA was going to kill you.

After the meal, and when everyone was about to go to their respective rooms. Norm had gone ahead walking as fast as he could through the cold corridors of the RDA. You were walking more calmly, plus you wanted to meet Jake. You felt you owed him an apology for leaving him alone. By pure chance you find him, you see that he was talking something with Quaritch. You look at him with concern, if you knew one thing, it was that quaritch never had good intentions, if he wasn't given anything in return. When you see both men stop talking, you decide to approach jake. “Hello” you speak softly, catching the man's attention. Jake turns around, with a small smile. Lifting his gaze. “I'm all ears” jake says. You had barely spoken to jake since he arrived, so you were a little nervous. “One question…ahh where did you leave my avatar?” you ask. “Your avatar? It's in a safe place” jake says. “Yeah, but what safe place?” you wanted him to be more literal, because his concept of safety might be very different from yours. “I'm sleeping in some kind of giant leaf…ahh I don't remember” jake speaks up, shuffling his hair.there was a short silence between the two of you, but you decide to speak. “You're in the big tree?” you speak. Jake can see your eyes light up for a moment. “Yes…that. There I am” jake can see you kneel down in front of him, and move much closer. Placing your hands on his knees. As if whatever you were going to ask him, you didn't want anyone else to hear. “And how did you see everything? Is everyone okay?” you ask. “Yeah…normal, there's only one who seems to be a bother and he's warrior…I don't remember his name” jake says and can see how you smile softly. “That's tsu'tey” you speak. “That same one, do you know him?” jake gets closer to your face, and you quickly push him away. “Ahh thank you for answering me…see you tomorrow” you get up quickly, and leave quickly. Before you continue walking to your room, you stop “By the way…sorry for leaving you alone when you wake up, next time I'll take better care of you” you apologize, and turn to continue on your way.

Jake stood there confused, he thought you looked kind of strange. But cute…very cute. He could understand his brother now. Laughing to himself, he started on his way to his room. Although he must admit that he found it even stranger, that you knew the name of that navi. It was assumed that only people who have an avatar have had contact with the Omaticayas, and he understands that not all of them have. How did you know that?

The next day came quickly, and Jake had almost no time to wake up…because he had to get up early. Wiping his eyes, he was already sitting on the edge of the connection machine. “Good morning” you hummed, approaching him. You had a cup of coffee in your hands, offering it to him with some vitamins. “Good morning gorgeous” jake chuckles, as he can as norm makes a dirty face. “Here…you'll need this” you hand him the stuff. “And this?” jake asks. “It's some vitamins that will help your body not collapse from not eating all day and a coffee” you speak, as you practically force jake to take it all. Grace approaches you, accompanied by Norm. “Well, here's the information,” says Grace, showing Jake a screen. On it was all of neytiri's information. You come to Jake's side, looking at the screen with a warm smile. “Please don't disrespect her….y do not be a jerk” norm speaks, giving jake a dirty look. “You're just upset because I'm the one going on a date with the leader's daughter” jake says in a mocking voice. Grace rolls her eyes and tells you to take care of hooking Jake up. As jake lies down, you approach him. “ Advice…don't try to flirt with neytiri” you speak up. Watching as jake raises an eyebrow, and laughs a little. “There you go…and how do you know that?” he speaks. You now give him a big smile, but one of sarcasm. “I know why I say that” you speak, as you turn away from jake. “You should listen to her,” Grace shouts from the distance. “Good luck…soldier” you speak, being the last face jake saw to wake up in his avatar body.

And yes, jake should take your advice, you knew neytiri more than anyone. And yes you were hating the fact that he could be with her. It had been so many years since you last saw her, you didn't even get to say goodbye…nothing. The last time you saw Neytiri was when that tragedy happened at school. You sigh a little, as you begin to prepare the week's paperwork. But your thoughts are interrupted when you feel grace sit down next to you. “I have good news… a new project is coming out tomorrow,” says Grace. You look at her curiously. “Project?” you ask. Grace's face ascends. “Yes…we need to be closer to the clan, a place we are safe, but we can still get on with the project 'jakesully” says grace, watching you laugh. “I was able to convince the RDA idiots to have a bunker, where we can have a team, a small lab. i'm counting on you, right?” grace looks at you with a raised eyebrow, waiting for your answer. “Can I refuse?” you speak, feeling Grace hug you and press a kiss to your hair. “It'll be for the best… we'll have a great time, no personal space” grace jokes, as you groan loudly.

And as if by magic, within a week you were in the bunker in the middle of the jungle. Norm, grace, judy, jake and you. Although judy came and went from time to time to get everything you needed. Even though she used to get away so often, she was part of the team. You adjusted too quickly, it seemed to be comfortable. And the comfort you felt around Jake was increasing too, and very quickly. This seemed to be nice for grace, she liked to see you happy and excited about something or someone…it had been a long time since she had seen you like this. Watching from afar, as you wiped jake's face with a wet rag. “I'm not a baby” says Jake, as you wipe his eyes. While you hold your face with both hands. “Yeah but you're barely taking care of yourself…I know your avatar body is amazing, but you're here” you touch his chest and feel his heart. “Can you feel it moving? It's that fast for you “ jake jokes, watching you laugh and turn away from him. “That was the worst thing you've said so far” norm complains from behind you, as he sips his coffee.

You liked it when jake would go back to his body in the afternoon, and do his video documentaries. And you could listen to everything he had learned, plus he would also tell you everything he had done with neytiri. “It's just that it's hard to use the bow…it's” Jake would explain with his hands, you could see the frustration in his eyes and gestures. Neytiri could be very rude at times, but that was the way it was and he had to learn. “The trick is to put pressure on the back arm” you move, and show him the pose. “And boom…done” you joke. Jake shakes his head to the side, watching as you continue to explain how he should do things. Just like neytiri was doing, they were explaining almost identically. Jake leans forward and brushes a strand of hair away from your face. Tucking it behind your ear. “Thank you” you speak timidly, now pulling away. “Thank you for helping me” jake says.

Since you had gotten closer to him, he had improved so much with the lessons with neytiri. If she told him something, he would ask you as soon as he returned to his human body. And you answered him without hesitation, sometimes he didn't understand how you knew so much about the clan. Only grace and a few avatars were supposed to have had contact with the clan, norm could know some things. But you were an expert. And your advice is really paying off. Now jake was in his avatar body, he was holding the bow again, and he remembered what you had said to him. “Neytiri was asking you to put strength in your arms, so you will be more accurate in your shooting” jake remembered your words, he adjusted his stance. Neytiri was approaching him, but stopped short. When she noticed Jake's stance, she stood watching him. Seeing how the shot was perfect. “Well done” says neytiri, watching as jake smiles at her. She was wondering how he had improved overnight. But if she could tell, it was the technique jake was using…it was very similar to yours. Neytiri tries to distract herself and keeps walking towards the prey.

For a moment during the day, the two of them had sat down in a nice quiet meadow to eat something to eat…neytiri was minding her own business eating her food. But she could feel jake's gaze, he might change his gaze once or twice. But he would look back at her. “ What are you looking at so much?” speaks neytiri without taking her eyes off her fruit. Jake remains thoughtful for a moment. “That necklace around your neck” jake points to the woven necklace neytiri had around her neck, she touches it while looking at it warmly. “What is it?” jake asks, but he thinks he knows the answer. The reason he's asking is because the night before, when he came over to fix your hair. He could see you had that same necklace, he wanted to believe it was something grace gave you. But today he noticed the same one on Neytiri and was surprised. They were identical. “This…” neytiri holds her necklace tightly. “This is a memory of her” neytiri says, she stops eating for a moment. She could look thoughtful, like she was remembering someone. “Her?” asks jake. Neytiri looks at him slowly, you could see her little teary eyes. But she gets up suddenly, “Come on…we have a lot of things to do” says neytiri. Jake stands up behind her, and catches her hand to stop her for a second. “Neytiri…are you okay?” the boy asks. Neytiri squeezes jake's hand for a moment, looking down and taking a deep breath. “Yes,” she says. Starting to walk to a new route, but Jake could tell how she didn't let go of his grip and continued to hold his hand tightly. Jake didn't refuse at any point, neytiri is not very affectionate to say the least, and the fact that she was still holding his hand. It meant that she needs him right now.

That same afternoon, when jake and neytiri came home from training, they had lunch with the whole clan. And lay down to rest in their respective places, neytiri waited a few minutes to carefully lift her head and see if jake had finally fallen asleep. She had her home with her parents, being still single, neytiri could live with her parents. But right now, she had the task of training and taking care of Jake. So she had to be wherever he was. Neytiri notices how Jake is asleep. Getting up from her hammock, to walk carefully in the branches. Leaving the resting area, running carefully to her ikran. “sense…come on” says neytiri, climbing into her ikran quickly. flying away from the familiar tree, she hopes no one was following her, because she was heading to a place she only knew about.

Not far away, there was a very tall tree. Too tall to be anything but scary for anyone to come and interrupt. Neytiri leads Seze to a giant branch, which had a beautiful view of the jungle of Pandora. Neytiri climbs down from the ikran, stroking the creature's head, stretching a little. To approach the tree trunk, picking up a small bag. Now to sit on the edge of the branch. She sighs a little, looking at the scenery. Opening the bag, and taking out of it a piece of paper. Very carefully she unfolds it and laughs to see what was drawn on it.

A cute doodle drawing…on it were two girls. Neytiri laughs to herself, as she touches the paper wistfully. “I hope you never forget me…my Y/N” Neytiri speaks softly. Hugging the paper carefully, this was the only thing I had of you.

What do you think? should I continue? btw, If you want to be tagged, let me know.<3

[cosmiclily]

.ᐟ chapter six: can you figure me out?

wc: 2.1k

cw: swearing, talk about sex (?)

I was in a terrible, horrible mood. I’d just had the shittiest day of the year—everything that could go wrong, did. And now, to top it all off, I couldn’t even sleep because my stupid fucking roommate was having the loudest sex of her life. It felt like they were doing it in my room.

The girl’s moans were clear as day, cutting through the walls as if they weren’t even there. I shoved a pillow over my head, trying to drown out the noise, but it didn’t help. The frustration boiling in my chest was so intense that, for once, the fact that Vi was having sex didn’t even bother me—not in the way it usually did, anyway. No, I was too mad about my lack of sleep to feel anything else.

Who the fuck does she think she is? I fumed silently, clutching the pillow tighter. Does she think she owns the apartment? That the rest of us don’t need a little thing called peace and quiet?

I stared up at the ceiling, my fists clenched under the blankets. Today had been a disaster—work was hell, the coffee machine broke before i had any coffee, and I’d managed to embarrass myself in front of my boss. All I wanted was to come home, collapse into bed, and sleep off the day. But no. Apparently, Vi and her flavor of the week had other plans.

It wasn’t just the noise—it was the audacity. The complete disregard for anyone else in the apartment. For me. I could practically feel the anger coursing through my veins, making my already pounding headache even worse.

I shot a glance at the clock on my nightstand: 2:37 a.m. Are you kidding me?

Another high-pitched moan echoed through the wall, and something in me snapped. I sat up, the blankets pooling around me, and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I didn’t know what I was going to do—march over there and bang on her door? Scream into the void? Move out and leave her a passive-aggressive note about apartment etiquette? All three options sounded equally tempting.

But instead, I just sat there, breathing heavily, my hands clenched into fists. My mind raced with anger, frustration, and the exhaustion of a day that had been far too long.

And yet, under all of that rage, there was something else. A flicker of something I didn’t want to acknowledge. Something that had nothing to do with sleep or noise or the shitty day I’d had. Something that had everything to do with the fact that Vi was in there with someone else.

I shoved that thought down as quickly as it surfaced, burying it under my frustration. No. Not tonight. Tonight, I was just mad. Just tired. That’s all.

But as another burst of laughter and muffled voices spilled through the wall, I felt my anger boil over. Before I could even have a coherent thought, I was already out of my room, banging on Vi’s door like a lunatic.

“Hello!” I shouted, not caring if I sounded unhinged. “There are other people in this apartment who need SLEEP!” And for a moment, there was blessed silence. The noises stopped—no laughter, no moans—just dead, suffocating quiet.

I could hear heavy footsteps moving towards the door, each one more threatening than the last. When the door swung open, it wasn’t the random girl who greeted me—it was Vi. And she looked pissed.

“Oh, so now I’m worth your time?” she snapped, her voice dripping with sarcasm and anger as she glared at me from the doorway. She was standing there in an old t-shirt, hair messy, her usual confidence dialed up to ten as she leaned against the frame, arms crossed like she was ready for a fight.

I blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Excuse me? I’m trying to sleep, and you’re—”

“No, excuse me,” she interrupted, stepping forward slightly, her eyes burning into mine. “For the past two weeks, you’ve been avoiding me for no fucking reason. Blowing me off, dodging my texts, acting like I don’t even exist. But now, suddenly, you’re banging on my door at two in the morning? Spare me.”

Her words hit harder than I wanted to admit, but I was too angry to back down. “Yeah, because you and your latest fuck-toy are treating this apartment like a damn nightclub! Some of us have responsibilities, Violet. Some of us have actual shit to deal with in the morning!”

Her jaw clenched, and for a second, I thought she might yell back. But instead, she let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Right. Got it. I’m just the irresponsible roommate who’s ruining your life.”

“That’s not what I—” I started, but she cut me off again.

“No, it’s fine. You’ve made it pretty clear where we stand, haven’t you? You can’t even look at me anymore, let alone talk to me. So, you know what? Go back to avoiding me, Y/N. I’ll make sure I’m quiet so I don’t disturb your precious little bubble.” Her voice dripped with venom, but behind it, there was something else—something that sounded a lot like hurt.

I opened my mouth to respond, to defend myself, to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. She stared at me for another moment, her chest rising and falling like she was trying to keep her anger in check. Then, without waiting for a reply, she slammed the door in my face.

I stood there in the hallway, my heart pounding in my chest. The adrenaline was wearing off, leaving behind a mix of guilt, frustration, and something heavier that I couldn’t quite name.

Was she right? Had I been avoiding her so much that I hadn’t even noticed what I was doing to her?

As I trudged back to my room, the apartment felt colder, emptier somehow. The silence that I’d wanted so badly felt suffocating now, and I couldn’t shake the look in her eyes before she shut the door. It wasn’t just anger. It was pain.

I flopped onto my bed, staring at the ceiling, and let out a long, shaky breath. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. None of it was. But now, I had no idea how to fix it—or if I even could.

──────────────────────

jinx💙

we need to talk

you

?? why are you being so serious

what did i do

jinx 💙

you know what you did, meet me at the campus coffee shop @6pm

you

ok

As I made my way to the coffee shop, my mind kept racing, stuck on Jinx’s cryptic text. She rarely *ever* asked to meet up like this, especially not with such an oddly serious tone. Normally, her texts were chaotic, full of emojis, but this one was straightforward, almost... ominous.

I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and I had no doubt it was about my so-called *brilliant plan.* Of course, Jinx had been skeptical from the start. She made her feelings about my avoidance strategy abundantly clear—loudly and with a side of judgment. But why now? Why was she suddenly being so serious about it?

I replayed the last conversation we’d had in my head, the one where she called me out for acting like a complete idiot. She’d said things like, “This is only going to blow up in your face,” and “You’re miserable, just TALK to her already!” At the time, I’d brushed it off, unwilling to admit that she might be right. But now, with this sudden meeting hanging over my head, I couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew something I didn’t.

When I finally reached the coffee shop, I spotted her immediately. She was sitting at our usual table near the window, sipping on what looked like a hot chocolate, her knee bouncing anxiously under the table. Her blue hair was pulled into two messy buns, and her expression was uncharacteristically serious as she stared out the window.

The moment I walked in, her eyes snapped to mine, and she waved me over. “Finally!” she exclaimed as I approached. “I was starting to think you bailed.”

“Yeah, well, your text kind of freaked me out,” I admitted, sliding into the seat across from her. “What’s this about, Jinx? You’re being... weird.”

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, and fixed me with a look that was both annoyed and concerned. “Okay, I’m just gonna cut to the chase,” she said, her voice lower than usual. “Your plan? The whole ‘avoid Vi until your feelings magically disappear’ thing? It’s bullshit.”

I blinked, caught off guard by her bluntness. “Wow, thanks for the insight, Captain Obvious,” I muttered, leaning back in my chair. “What else is new?”

“No, you don’t get it,” she pressed, her tone sharp. “It’s not working. Like, on a catastrophic level.”

I frowned, sitting up straighter. “What are you talking about?”

Jinx sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Vi’s been asking me about you,” she said finally. “A lot. It’s annoying, actually. She thinks you’re mad at her or that she did something wrong, but she doesn’t know what it is. And honestly? She’s hurt, Y/N. She’s really fucking hurt.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out.

“She told me she misses you,” Jinx continued, her eyes searching mine. “Like, *really* misses you. And she doesn’t understand why you’re pulling away. She’s convinced it’s her fault.”

Guilt twisted in my stomach, and I looked down at the table, unable to meet her gaze. “I didn’t mean for her to think that,” I mumbled.

“Well, congratulations, because that’s exactly what she thinks,” Jinx said, leaning back in her chair with a huff. “Look, I get that you’re trying to protect yourself or whatever, but this whole avoidance thing? It’s not just hurting you. It’s hurting her too.”

“So what do I do?” I asked quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Jinx gave me a small, almost sad smile. “You talk to her,” she said simply. “You tell her the truth. About everything. I know you’re scared—scared of losing her or ruining your friendship—but at the pace things are going, there won’t be a friendship left to save.”

Her words were sharp, cutting through the layers of excuses I’d been hiding behind. I opened my mouth to argue, to come up with some kind of defense, but she held up a hand, stopping me.

“Look,” she continued, her voice softening, “I know my sister. She likes to plaster on that tough look, act like nothing gets to her, like she doesn’t care about anything. But trust me, she cares. And right now? I’m worried about her. She’s not herself, Y/N.”

I frowned, leaning forward slightly. “What do you mean?”

Jinx sighed, running a hand through her hair. “She’s... distracted. Off her game. You know how Vi usually is—confident, quick to brush things off? Lately, she’s been... different. Quieter. Like she’s overthinking everything. And I know it’s because of you.”

“Me?” I said, my voice cracking slightly.

“Yes, you!” Jinx said, exasperated. “You’re one of the most important people in her life, and she feels like she’s losing you. Do you have any idea how much that’s messing with her?”

I sat back in my chair, her words hitting me like a ton of bricks. Vi was *hurting* because of me. All this time, I thought I was the only one struggling, that I was the only one dealing with the fallout of my feelings. But I hadn’t considered how my actions—my distance, my avoidance—might be affecting her.

“I didn’t mean to make her feel like that,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I know you didn’t,” Jinx said gently. “But intentions don’t matter if the outcome still hurts, you know?” She leaned forward, her blue eyes locking onto mine. “You’ve gotta fix this, Y/N. And not with some half-baked apology or vague excuse. You need to be honest—with her and with yourself.”

The thought of laying everything bare, of telling Vi the truth about my feelings, sent a wave of panic crashing over me. But Jinx was right. If I didn’t do something soon, I was going to lose her anyway.

“Okay,” I said finally, my voice shaky but resolute. “I’ll talk to her.”

Jinx’s expression softened into a small smile. “Good. And Y/N? Don’t wait too long, okay? Vi might be tough, but even she has her limits.”

I nodded, my stomach twisting with nerves. This was it. No more running, no more hiding. It was time to face the truth, no matter how terrifying it was.

───────────���──────────

chapters

notes: oohh the girls are fighting, will y/n finally confess?

i feel like jinx in this au is the typical younger sibling that chased vi with a knife but won’t let anyone else hurt her

[saltnsugarbear]

Congrats on 200!! This celebration is so fun! I would love to request the prompt “This is wrong.” “So wrong.” While continuing to pull at each others clothes, mind fogged with nothing but lust and arousal.” with Lip!

word count: 2.1k

content warnings: smut MDNI!!! i leaned heavily into the themes of Shameless I'm so sorry, fucking at a funeral, afab reader genitalia, unprotected sex,

side note: I'm picturing specifically the bathroom of the venue of the wedding i went to in February and it was in a like a vet association place so a VA in rural Wisconsin.

You didn't really know the deceased.

They were a friend of your parents and therefore you were dragged along. Seeing the eldest Gallaghers was a surprise to you. Chicago could be so small sometimes.

It's impossible to focus on the service with Lip staring at you. He's not even being subtle. He's been trying to float around you all afternoon, trying to get you alone while you were trying to help set up.

The service ends up being much later, as you wait for people to come in and gather. But you're sitting with your mom silently in one of the rows closest to the podium and bouquet of lilies in the front of the room. You didn't expect the Gallaghers to sit in the row over from you. They're also a row up, which gives Lip the opportunity to glance back at you as much as he pleased.

At a certain point you couldn't stand it anymore, clenching your jaw as you refrain from making a scene yelling at Lip. You sigh softly, deciding there was only one way for you to get this over with.

"Gonna go check on the food," you tell your mom, placing a reassuring hand on her arm before getting up.

It's no surprise when Lip gets up and follows you into the small kitchen area across from the bar. You pause at the sink, back turned to the serving window when Lip walks in. He joins you by the sink and you're quick to start shoving him farther back into the kitchen, towards the industrial dishwasher and three compartment sink.

"What is your problem?" You ask him, voice hushed so you can't be overheard.

"My problem?" He asks you, quirking a brow at you.

"Yes, your problem. You have a fucking staring problem. And instead of looking sad at a funeral, like you should, you look like you're waiting to fuck me in the back alley like you used to." Your voice is a rough whisper that can be hidden under the noise of mourners talking outside of the kitchen.

Lip scoffs and rolls his eyes, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "You think I wanna fuck you?"

"Oh, don't make me laugh, it's written all over your face." You cross your arms. Lip looks at you for a long moment, before reaching up to undo his tie with one hand. The motion confuses you, making you furrow your brow as you watched. Once his tie is undone, he brings it to rest around his neck plainly.

"What the fuck does that mean?" You ask, assuming it was how he wanted to respond to your statement. Which made no sense in any sort of matter other than he agreed to it.

Instead of answering you, Lip just takes a step towards you. In reaction, you can't help but step back. He takes a second step forward. Then a third. Then...

The fourth step has you both chest to chest with your back against the counter. He holds eye contact with you for a long time, searching for something you don't know. "What are you doing?"

Your voice is soft and quiet. Like you're trying to keep a secret. You can't do much but watch as Lip reaches for your wrist. You don't think much of it until he starts leading you out of the room. That's when it hits you he's not taking you back to the service room.

"What are you doing?" You hiss at Lip again as he drags you past the bar and arcade machines to the bathroom. For some reason he chooses the women's room, shouldering the door open and pulling you in.

"Lip, what-" You're cut off by his mouth on yours as Lip pushes you up against the door. Distantly, you can hear the door lock slide in place but it's background noise compared to Lip's presence around you.

You're reminded how intoxicating Lip can be. He's got one hand gripping your chin and the other lifting one of your legs up to bring your core against his half hard erection. He grinds against you, making you gasp and welcome him to explore your mouth. He practically inhales the whine that leaves your throat when he gives a particularly harsh rut against you.

Lip sets your leg down as he starts to trail kisses down your jaw. Your chest rises quickly as you try and catch your breath, sighing as he bites at your neck. Clapping outside of the door reminds you of where you are.

"This is wrong," you try and rationalize. Trying to maintain some shred of dignity.

"So wrong," Lip agrees, but his voice is distant as he rolls his hips into you. The force makes you grunt, pressing your hands flat against the door behind you. He's fumbling with the buttons of your pants, undoing them sloppily before shoving them down your legs.

"We're at a funeral.." You pant out, trying to remind him as Lip grabs your hips and walks backwards. Contrary to your words, you follow him and let Lip lift you onto the counter next to the sink.

"Uh-huh.." Lip agrees before bringing you into a messy kiss. It's all hot breathing and the cold linoleum counter top against the backs of your thighs. Both your fingers are fighting to undo his pants and dress shirt, pressing the fabric roughly against his skin. The sound of his belt coming undone echoes through the bathroom, dropping to the floor and skittering as he kicks it away.

While he undoes the button of his jeans, you start pushing off his suit jacket it. Lip lets it fall to the ground with his belt, favoring shoving his pants and boxers down. While he's distracted you lifts your hips and shove off your underwear, pulling it off your ankle and setting it under you to have some barrier between you and the counter.

Lip doesn't let you prepare much before he's nudging up against your entrance. He slides up to nudge your clit with his head, making you bite your lower lip to quiet yourself. He scoffs as you try and keep quiet, shaking his head because he knows the charade won't last.

The feeling of him pushing into you makes you gasp, arching into him as you slap a hand over your mouth. Lip let's you breathe for a moment, letting you adjust to the intrusion. He places soft kisses to the parts of your collarbone he can reach, coaxing you to relax. As you do, Lip pushes farther into you, causing you to whine as you bite down on your knuckles.

The groan that tears through both of you once he's fully nestled in you, echoes throughout the bathroom. You sigh heavily at the feeling, closing your eyes as Lip soothes a thumb over your hip. With your eyes closed, Lip finds it easier to press kisses over your face; kissing your cheeks gently, moving over your nose and kissing between your brows.

You give him the go ahead by jerking your hips upwards, whining when his length presses against your walls.

When he starts, Lip has a messy pace. Starting off fast, pounding into you in a way that has you squealing and shoving a knuckle between your teeth. The sound of skin against skin fills the bathroom so loudly you're sure someone will hear you.

Oh shit.

Someone could hear you.

"Wait- Lip, wait-" You get out. Barely. But the second the words are out of your mouth, Lip stops.

"What? What's wrong?" Lip shifts his hips like he's going to pull out but you're quickly tugging him back into you.

"Need-" You sigh heavily. "Need to be quieter... Slower.."

Realization takes over his expression, sighing 'oh' softly as he shifts on his feet. Now, Lip is no stranger to slow sex, it's just not his preferred style. But he understands the situation enough that he actually listens to you.

Lip's thrusts are slow and deep. Setting a slow and steady pace instead of a fast and rough one. Instead of fucking you like he usually did.

"Missed ya.." Lip grunts, pulling all the way out to the tip before slamming back into you. He found a way to make even the most intimate sex, rough and grabby.

"Yeah?" You ask breathlessly, trying to maintain some form of indifference. Like you didn't also miss him. "Or did you jus' miss- fuck- miss fuckin' me?"

Lip huffs at you, punishing your words with a a shallow thrust, causing you to whine.

"Maybe both," he grins as you lean your head back against the wall.

You sigh as Lip wraps an arm around you, holding your opposite hip tight as he leans a hand against the counter behind you. The grip he gets on you let's him thrust into you better. He manages to set a steady rhythm to his thrusting, making your mouth drop open as he punctuates each one with a smooth roll of his hips.

The little roll manages to create a delightful friction between your clit and Lip's happy trail, providing enough stimulation to keep you on a steady track to your own release. But Lip knows your body well enough. He knows when to bring his hand off the counter, instead letting you rest back again so he can split his fingers around where he sinks into you.

He uses the slick from both of you to coat his fingertips before he slides them up to rub at your clit. His steady movements makes you whine, making your legs clamp around his hips.

"Oh, fuck- fuck-" You whine, jolting up to bury your face in his shirt as your orgasm washes over you. You can't help but wrap your hands in his shirt, holding Lip close while he continues to rut into you messily. He grunts above you, giving you a few more sharp thrusts before you feel him twitch inside of you. "

"Shit-" He grunts, rolling his hips idly as he sighs into your hair.

Your forehead rests against his shoulder, breathing heavily as you catch your breath.

"Think anyone noticed we're gone?" Lip jostled you with his movements, nudging his shoulder against your forehead.

"Probably.." You sigh, lifting your head up and place your hands on the counter to keep yourself propped up.

"Should probably do something about that," he makes a circular gesture around his face but you know he means yours. "You look like you just got fucked instead of like you're mourning."

"Fuck you," you roll your eyes at Lip. But you probably do look like a mess compared to when you left the service.

"Again? Already? Y'sure?" Lip asks with a grin, tilting his head to one side.

"Idiot.." You huff, pushing him away with your knees so you can slide off the counter.

"Wanna um..." Lip hesitates as he kicks his belt along the floor a little. "Wanna go by Patsy's after?"

"Patsy's?" You ask him before turning over to face the mirror. Lip was right, you look like you've just had sex not like you're ready to attend a funeral. He makes a noncommittal noise as he ducks down to grab his belt and jacket from the floor.

"Mean figure I should buy you dinner after fucking you like that.." He shrugs as he reloops it and tucks in his dress shirt again.

"Never got me dinner before," You remind him as you adjust your appearance, wetting your fingers with water from the sink to wipe your face. You can see him moving in the corner of your eye as you finish adjusting your appearance to something that's at least a little bit presentable.

When you turn back to him, Lip has your pants in his hands. He's turning them so the button faces him when he looks up at you. Instead of handing them over, Lip comes to stand in front of you and kneels down, holding the pants out for you. You huff again as you place a hand on his shoulder when you step into your pants, letting Lip pull them up for you as he stands. He pulls you close by your hips, zipping up your pants and redoing your own belt.

"What d'ya say?" He asks softly, not letting go of you just yet.

"Lip.." You sigh softly, bringing your hands to flatten the suit jacket he's put back on.

"Just dinner. That's it." He tells you, looking at you with wide blue eyes.

You sigh again, buttoning his jacket for him before you place your hands over his.

"Okay.." You say and he's kissing you once the word is out. You let out a surprised hum, bringing a hand to his face to pull away a little.

"Just dinner." You remind him. Lip nods distractedly, looking at your lips and then your eyes quickly.

"Just dinner.." He repeats before kissing you again.

You already know it's going to be more than just dinner.

[almost-blondee]

Caught

Sunday x reader

Sfw

Part 2 of sleepless night

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: kinda nervous to upload this, hopefully it’s not to boring… i really enjoyed writing this… So Thanks for reading and please let me know if you enjoyed it would mean a lot lol!!. Hopefully Sunday inst to out of character… Hopefully there’s not to many mistakes, if there is please ignore them i tried my best to find them.

———————————————————————————

Awoken by the strong smell of coffee, and the faint noise of a machine. Sunday slowly sits up from his spot on the couch. stumbling over to have a sat at the bar in the party car, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Asking Shush for a glass of water, the usual since he joined the express. He chugs the glass down when placed in front of him, The cold liquid running down his throat. The refreshing feeling hard to top. He sits at the table for a little longer today. Wondering if he had disturbed anyone last night with his late performance. Somehow he was still in the gloomy mood he was before he went to bed. They usually say you get more emotional at night. Which is usually true for him, so he more or less expected to be laughing at himself for thinking such thoughts. However, they were still fresh in his mind. He needed to do something.

Just as he was going to make his way to the Parlor car to indulge in the book he was currently reading, he had heard a voice, a voice he knew well. Your voice. It sounded as though it were on the other side of the bar, he could not see you, nor could you see him. It seems that you were having a conversation with March 7th. You’d sounded a little distressed. Sunday slowly sat back down, he knew it was bad to eavesdrop, but technically he wasn’t. He had just so happened to hear your conversation, right?

“No March i’m serious, you have to believe me.” He heard you whine.

“I’m not sure… are you seriously not playing a prank on me?” Marchs voice sounding a bit skeptical.

“I swear, why would i lie about this… i need your advice. Your the only one i can come too” you reply sounding really desperate

This has now piqued Sundays interest, he needs to know what your dilemma is. Maybe he could help…

You had ended up falling asleep last night with some difficulty, but at least you got some rest. You had been to focused on what you saw. The image never leaving your mind once. At first you thought that maybe it was just a dream, and there hadn’t been some shockingly handsome angel dancing around playing a beautiful melody in the party car. Sounds like a dream alright… And that’s exactly the problem. What everyone could only dream about, was right in front of you… how did it take you this long to notice the absolute beauty living so close. However now that you have noticed, it will be hard to even look at him.

You think back to the moment… you sit admiring the image that you have in your head, perhaps glorifying it a bit. But soon it has you kicking your feet, shutting your eyes, and squealing. Once you realize you probably look like a teenager who finally made eye contact with their crush, you stop and get ready to go downstairs. To the party car.

Once you are freshened up, you head downstairs, hoping to find March so she can listen to your ‘oh so horrible problem’ What? you needed someone to confide in. When you had made it to the bottom of the stairs you scanned the room for any sign of March, and secondly Sunday. you had found March sitting by the bar. So you quickly made your way over. Seeing no sign of Sunday in the process. You chopped it up to him already leaving to sit in the Parlor car to read. Although he hasn’t been on the express long you still picked up on his habits. You also knew he would usually get up early, so this was not strange to you. Unfortunately, you were horribly wrong, and he was still intact in the room, let’s just say you were eager to tell March about what you had seen last night.

You, now seated beside March, started to tell her that you may or may not have a little crush on the new passenger on the express. Cue her reaction, thinking that you were pranking her. “Where did this come from… This has to be a joke. Just out of nowhere?”

“No March i’m serious, you have to believe me.”

“I’m not sure… are you seriously not playing a prank on me?” Marchs voice sounding a bit skeptical.

“I swear, why would i lie about this… i need your advice. Your the only one i can come too”

March just stared at you then made a gesture for you to continue.

Your eyes brightened and you hugged her closely, almost falling off your chair in the process.

“Thank you!!! And just so you know it wasn’t out of no where, i had just… never seen him that way before, i’m sure you fall for him if you had seen what i saw” You say with sparkles in your eyes.

“ i highly doubt i would but, continue…”

“No i swear, You should have seen it. He was holding his violin with the perfect posture, his eyes closed, you could see his long dreamy eyelashes, and his lips slightly parted just enjoying the tune. He was swaying like he was slow dancing, it was the most beautiful thing i’ve seen, it was so… enticing” March slightly cringes at the way you worded that. “And don’t get me started on his fingers, he was playing the instrument with such ease gliding his fingers across it making it look easy, And AND GUESS WHAT?” You are definitely invading her personal space by now.

“ What…” March says hesitantly.

“HE WASN’T WEARING ANY GLOVES!!!! his hands, bare, i feel like a victorian man seeing a girls ankles for the first time. i’ve never seen more beautiful hands in my life… I wouldn’t mind having those all over me.” You whisper the last part, but judging by Marchs face she heard what you said.

“U-uh okay, TMI much… Maybe keep those kinda thoughts to yourself? please?”

“Oh you heard that… Sorry” you slap your hands together in front of your face.

“So why exactly did you need to tell me all of that?” March asks, hoping that she didn’t have to hear more. It not that she didn’t want you to confide in her, it’s just that this kinda stuff wasn’t really her forte, especially when it had to do with a man that she knew was on the other side of the bar… Yes she knew and had the audacity not to tell you. But in her defense, she had no idea you would take it this far, especially in a somewhat public area for all ears to hear, this one’s was on you.

you sit back in your chair and look to the ceiling,

“ Uh i don’t know i just felt like getting it off my chest… It kept me up almost all night!”

Then you hear a door opening and shutting, you crane your head to the side to see Himeko, walking in with 2 cups of coffee, one presumably for her and the other? You weren’t sure, you and March both don’t drink coffee and Himeko knows that. Now you had gotten everything off your chest you had started to think logically, for the first time in 12 hours. Damn me and my big mouth, you thought to yourself hoping that it was Welt or Dan Heng on the other side. You are now not listening to what March is saying to you, focusing on Himeko as hard as you can. Hoping, praying she will say this persons name. Himeko had by now made her way to the other side of the bar. You can hear the saucer being placed on the counter, being followed by

“One signature Coffee for Mr. Sunday”

Your heart stops. Just what in the world was your luck. When did he get there. How much had he heard. Did March know and not tell you…

“Oh Mr. Sunday are you not feeling well, you look quite pink?” you hear Himeko question.

“O-oh no i’m quite alright, thank you for the coffee, Miss Himeko.” He say timidly.

Curse him and his heavenly voice.

You quickly excuse yourself from your conversation with March and swiftly make your way to the other side of the bar.

March had more or less figured out what was going on.

When you turn the corner, you see Sunday sitting by the bar, his face quite pink, which makes him even more enticing. He looks up at you and your eyes meet. His face getting progressively more red, almost putting Himekos hair to shame. His wings quickly take to his face trying to hide it. He is embarrassed out of his mind right now. He has never heard anyone talk about him in such ways. Loving and quite lustful, he heard that comment about his hands. All the thoughts that had been plaguing his mind, disappeared in an instant when he had heard you talking. He was now more focused on how you could say those things out loud, especially to another person, and not feel embarrassed. However, the loudest thing in his head right now was his heartbeat. He couldn’t control it, he was elated that you had thought about him in such light, because him too thought about you in said light. His heart full of pride to hear you praise him so highly, this was a new feeling. Being praised by the one you love is quite the feeling.

He needed to say something to alleviate the awkward atmosphere. So he said the first thing that came to mind.

“Um, Good Morning Miss (y/n), did you sleep well?”

kicking himself for such a stupid question. As if he hadn’t just heard you whine about loosing sleep about him.

“How much did you hear?” quite straight to the point you were.

It took Sunday aback. Should he be truthful, or lie for the sake of your dignity. “Um, i heard most of what you said…” he trailed off into a whisper. Ultimately he chose to tell the truth. The blush never leaving his face as he looked at you from just above his wings, still covering his face.

You couldn’t take the sight, he looked so vulnerable, so timid, and so adorable. You could feel your own face heating, both from the sight in front of you and, the fact you had just completely embarrassed your self in front of your ‘new love’.

“Yeah… about that, sorry you had to hear all of that… i got a bit carried away” finally replying sheepishly.

By now March had dragged Himeko out of the car, so you and Sunday could talk things out. Way to go March!

“ i apologize if i made you uncomfortable with my comments, i had no intention of you every hearing about this…” You continue to explain hoping to leave the car with some pride left.

“Quite the contrary, Miss (y/n), although i am a bit surprised you see me this way, i have not complaints. You are quite the beauty yourself. It would be a shame if i never heard about these thoughts.” Sunday slyly said wings now slowly revealing his face. If anyone were to hear this conversation, they would think that Sunday was cool and composed, However seeing him would thoroughly change their mind, he looks just about ready to overheat.

You on the other hand were shocked by his response, He thinks you’re a beauty? Could this get any better! Or worse i guess. you are now sat beside him, both of you facing each other. Now just silence… The silence that used to haunt the halovian in front of you. He would feel hopeless, worthless, and lost. When the silence would overtake his thoughts he would lose all his will to continue. But for once, since he boarded the express, He was comfortable with the silence. There were no thoughts in his head other than you As he stared into your eyes. He could almost see his reflection. Hoping to see himself the way you do, worthy… He is wanted, even if it’s just by you, that would be enough for him.

From now on he can see himself welcoming silence, even yearning for it if he got to stare into your eyes like this every time.

He’s fallen hard. Perhaps one day you will know just how much he loves you.

He will remember this day forever, the day that made him realize he was born in this world for a reason, even if that reason was just being yours, that’s more than enough for him.

almost-blondee

Tags 🏷️

@96jnie

[samkerrworshipper]

the view between villages | alexia putellas x reader

based off of the tiktok edit…. tears have been shed in the making of this

warnings: horrificically brain numbing angst

All Alexia can focus on his the sound of the indicator of the van that she’s in. Her whole body stretched out against the backseat of the van. Alexia wishes that she was able to take up one seat, that she didn’t need to be completely straightened out against the leather seats.

Mapi’s sitting in the back behind her, chattering off, but Alexia’s brain syncs her out.

Her knee feels fine, sure it can’t bend and it’s swelled up so fat that her skin is stretched tight across her knee but she’s not in pain.

All she’d been doing was shooting, and then she was on the ground and it wasn’t even that bad, until she was pulled up and took her first step and everything just felt wrong. Her knee buckled out underneath her, and before Alexia even felt true pain, she knew exactly what was happening.

Alexia’s not a religious person, she couldn’t even tell you how to pray, but from the moment her knee buckled out underneath her to now, she’s been praying, every single thought running through her mind is a pray that she’s not actually going through this.

Alexia and unstoppable are two words that have become synonymous in her mind, Alexia is the best, she is untouchable. She knows it, it’s all that she thinks about, when she wakes up, when she goes to sleep. Alexia is supposed to be a fucking god, she is supposed to be indestructible. Yet, sitting in the back of this van, she feels like she’s completely dissociated herself with the person that she’s supposed to be.

Alexia is sitting eyes wide open with one thing stuck in her mind, is this the end of her?

Alexia doesn’t need scans to know exactly what’s wrong, she felt the crunch, she heard the pop, she’s heard and seen what an acl injury looks like.

Mapi’s been trying to tell her that they don’t know yet, that she scans are needed to confirm it, but Alexia knows, she just knows that this is the end of her year, the end of her Euros, the end of everything she’s been working towards for the last three years, maybe the end of everything she’s worked her whole life for.

There is the critical part of her which is telling Alexia this is her fault, if she had of just trained a little bit harder, if she had of gotten in the extra hours in the gym earlier in the morning or taken more time with her shot none of this would be happening, if she wasn’t so sloppy she would be fine.

The whirring of an MRI machine is a noise that Alexia’s brain will never forget, it’s one that she’d never thought she’d have to hear, a sound that no athlete wants to experience.

Within the hour, Alexia is handed a diagnosis and prognosis, as well as a ticket back to Barcelona. Her Euros and year are over.

She doesn’t cry, even though Mapi’s voice is in her ear telling her that it’s fine if she does and okay if she wants to.

Alexia doesn’t want to cry, she doesn’t want this to be happening to her, how could this be happening to her?

She gets taken back to the hotel within the same van, her body extended across the three seats, crutches sitting on the floor below her and her knee tightly hugged by a compression sleeve.

Alexia doesn’t feel like herself, she doesn’t know who she is right now but it’s not her. Alexia is supposed to be strong, she is the greatest, the indomitable force of Barca and Spain.

She’s surrounded by her teammates once she manages to crutch her way into the dining room, it’s silent, Alexia is grateful for it, she’s not grateful for all the sad looks and hugs that she receives.

Alexia’s phone has stayed in the same spot for the last few hours, tucked into the pocket of her hoodie. She doesn’t want to look at it, the hundreds of messages, articles and calls from the people that she wishes would just disappear.

She doesn’t need anybody, she doesn’t need any stupid consolations telling her that she’ll come out better, that it’s just a bump in the road, that she’s got people to support her.

She doesn’t care, she couldn’t give less of a fuck because at the end of the day a simple text message isn’t going to change anything. It won’t change the fact that she’s completely ruptured the most important part of her body, after doing something that she does hundreds of time a day.

Alexia knows though that the next week is going to be a fucked up whirlwind and she needs to get her business in order and that includes calling her mother and sister.

She finds herself a table by herself in the dining room, tucked away in the corner, ordering Mapi to just give her some peace.

It’s the first words she’s spoken, Mapi had answered all the questions at the hospital, something Alexia was so grateful for, because she still didn’t know how to put exactly what she was feeling into words.

The phone rings twice before Eli picks up.

“Mami, I need you to come pick me up from the airport tomorrow.”

Alexia waits a few seconds, she’s unsure about whether or not Eli will have heard the news, technically her injury hasn’t been formally announced but most of the football world would know already.

“Okay, Ale, is everything okay?”

Alexia is grateful that her mother doesn’t ask much more, she doesn’t think she’d be able to handle it.

“I just need you to come get me tomorrow, my flight should land at around 1, if that works.”

Alexia’s relationship with her mother is one of love and support, her mother is always there for her, she’s the person that will pick Alexia up no matter how low she is, no matter how much she’s begun to hate herself and treat her like she’s the most amazing thing in existence.

“Me and Alba will be there, if you need anything call me.”

Alexia nods, it’s the first time today that she feels like she’s holding back tears. She doesn’t want to burden her family, it’s the last thing she wants to do, but everyone she knows she is leaving behind to return.

Mapi brings her dinner, she doesn’t touch it.

She can’t stomach her feelings, she knows she won’t be able to stomach food.

Once Mapi’s done with her own food, Alexia gets her to help her up to their room. She feels so numb, like she could stab herself in the heart twenty times and it would feel better almost, better than the all consuming pain that she’s experiencing all across her body. At least being stabbed would be some form of relief, like she’d actually be feeling the pain of what she’s going through, instead she’s forced to look down at her knee which feels normal, and detest it for being so much worse than it feels.

Alexia doesn’t sleep.

She lays awake in the hotel bed all night, her knee elevated with as many pillows as Mapi was willing to sacrifice from her own bed and an ice pack that isn’t really cold anymore pressed to her skin. Alexia’s brain just can’t turn off, she finds it hard enough to sleep when she’s thinking about football, but right now football isn’t the sole thought that is running laps around her brain, instead it’s what's next for her.

Alexia’s always been interested in coaching, maybe that’s her destiny.

She just can’t imagine herself coming back from this. Alexia prides herself on always being her best, so even if she does somewhat recover, if it’s not at the level that she expects for herself then she doesn’t want it, she’d rather sit on the sidelines for the rest of her life than be another sob story on the pitch, a player that’s discredited due to an injury.

Alexia has clawed tooth and nail for her status, for her respect on the pitch and she won’t sacrifice that. She’s considering all of her options, retirement, coaching, anything that doesn’t involve her on a pitch with a ball.

The flight home is horrific, Mapi refuses to leave Alexia’s side, making the decision to miss their game for the day to make sure that her friend makes it back to Barcelona in one piece.

Alexia loves Mapi, she’s one of her oldest friends, but the woman manages to make Alexia want to pull her hair out before they’ve even boarded their flight.

She doesn’t mean to snap at her, she really doesn’t, but Alexia was getting sick of the persistent doting and questions that Mapi was asking her non-stop, even after Alexia would blank her, not trusting her voice or her mind to answer the insistent questions that María sends her way. It’s when they are sitting at the gate of their plane, they’ve been waiting for nearly an hour because Mapi had insisted they get there early to allow for Alexia to crutch her way through Heathrow, even though she was provided with a ride to the gate from the airport staff and one of their transport carts.

Leaving Mapi extremely bored, she’d gotten snacks, went to the bathroom twice and checked Alexia’s luggage three times. She was at her wits end, and that apparently translated to trying to ask Alexia as many questions as humanly possible.

It’s when Mapi starts asking her about who’s going to help her with her recovery and where she’s going to live that Alexia just cracks.

“Mapi I don’t want to talk, I don’t want to answer questions and I really don’t want your company. I’ve done my acl, I’m aware of it, I don’t need to be reminded every goddamn second, I have crutches and a useless knee that is enough of a fucking reminder.”

Mapi recoils immediately, if Alexia wasn’t so blinded by her anger and intense mourning for her life then she would apologise, but she doesn’t feel any kind of remorse or guilt, she’s to absorbed with the feeling in her gut that that’s obliterating everything in Alexia’s brain.

It keeps Mapi silent, the woman resorting to only talking when it’s completely necessary.

She stays silent on the flight, choosing to recline in her first class seat besides Alexia after she’s gently gotten Ale situated in her seat with her chair fully reclined to take the pressure off of her knee.

The rest of the flight, she leaves Alexia to continue to run the laps in her brain. It’s a mental workout, nowhere near as the real work out that she could have gotten today on the pitch had she not of screwed up so royally yesterday.

The flight isn’t so great, Alexia’s leg is cramping, her headphones are flat and for the life of her she can’t sleep.

So she sits, pondering and thinking about the next few days.

When the plane lands, she’s never been more terrified to be home in her entire life.

Alexia, through and through is a Spanish girl.

She’s lived in Barcelona her whole life, she spends her holidays in Ibiza.

Spain is where she feels the happiest, she’s a homebody in the sense that unless it’s completely unavoidable due to work, she likes to be around her club and her friends and being in Barcelona is where that is most achievable.

She loves Barcelona, loves the city, loves the beaches, loves the quiet life but also party life that Barcelona gives.

Yet she finds herself completely detesting the idea of returning home, mainly because of what she knows is going to ensue when she has to step off the airplane and face her new normal.

Mapi helps her through the airport, she’s flying straight back to England, but she walks her way out of customs anyways, even with Alexia’s insistence that she doesn’t have to.

She grabs her bags for her, wheeling them through the airport, until she spots Alba and Eli sitting near the entrance of the airport.

As soon as the two of them spot Alexia they are up on their feet, rushing forwards.

Mapi notices the look of terror on Alexia’s face as the two people closest to her approach, it’s something that Mapi’s never seen before.

Alexia and her family are so close, so close that sometimes Mapi is envious of the relationship she holds with her mother and sister. Yet Alexia looks at them like they are the last people that she wants to be seeing and it worries Mapi.

Mapi’s been worried enough the last twenty four hours. She knows Alexia didn’t sleep, she hasn’t eaten and she hasn’t been talking to anybody, she’s swallowing up all the pain and anguish that she’s going through and shoving it down. It’s what Alexia does best, it’s how she’s handled the fame and stature so well, she compartmentalises better than anybody Mapi knows. It’s why she worries about Alexia more than anybody else, she knows the depths that Alexia will go to try and hide her pain and eventually, it becomes too much for her.

Mapi is always the one to pick up the pieces, the person who is inevitably there when Alexia finally breaks down. She goes through it with her and once it’s over, they both act like nothing has happened, even though Mapi knows it is so much more than that.

Alba makes it to Alexia first, completely disregarding the crutches and Alexia’s injury, instead opting to bring her into a crushing hug, Alexia doesn’t allow herself to relax into the hug like she normally would, instead the tenses up, praying for Alba to let go of her, to just leave Alexia be, to stop reminding her that instead of being hugged after being away from home so long like they would have in a couple of weeks, she’s being hugged because she’s failed, because she’s been unable to complete the one thing she was destined to do.

Alba hangs on for a lot longer than Alexia feels necessary, her younger sister holding onto her like she’s going to somehow run away if she lets go. Once done hugging Alexia, she moves onto Mapi, embracing her and allowing room for Eli to look at her daughter.

She doesn’t hug Alexia, she doesn’t say anything, she just looks her up and down as if to say ‘You’ve fucked up’ as if Alexia isn’t already aware.

Eli moves onto Mapi, deciding that whatever she needs to say or tell her daughter, it doesn’t need to be said now, it can wait till they’re in private.

“Maria, thank you, you’ll join us for lunch?”

Mapi shakes her head, she wishes she could take the invite, but her flight back to London leaves in just over an hour and she really doesn’t have the time considering she has to go back through security.

“No, unfortunately I am needed back in England, but I'll take a rain check? Take care of her for me, keep me updated Ale, i expect regular phone calls.”

Alexia rolls her eyes at Mapi, it makes her smile, it’s the first fragment of emotion she’s seen across her friends face in the last 24 hours and she’ll take anything she can get. She gives Alexia a short hug, not wanting to make her uncomfortable before pressing a soft kiss to her forehead and saluting her family before walking back in the direction she’s come from.

Alexia feels a part of her leave with Mapi, the part of her team that Mapi had been keeping with her, and now she was gone.

Alba fussed over her the whole way to the car, Eli stays silent.

Alba is the one who takes all of her luggage, gets her stretched out against the backseat of her Cupra and checks time and time again that she’s clipped in properly.

Alexia zones it out in favour of going back to the place in her mind where she’s been hovering for the past while, the part of her brain designated to thinking about all of her possibilities right now. Retirement, coaching, rehab.

Those are the three options that just won’t leave her head, in order of preference.

She does this the whole ride back to her house, it keeps her grounded, keeps her from focusing on all of the outside noise that she’s so desperate to drown out.

The announcement of her injury came out this morning, she hasn’t checked her phone, she doesn’t want to, she knows what she’ll be met with and it’s not something she wants to have to deal with. Instead of feeling supported, it feels more like a chore, like she has to thank all of these people who are wishing her the best even though they’re probably all grateful that she’s been sidelined. Alexia isn’t a threat if she’s injured on the sidelines, she’s not helping her team to try and win a European championship from a hospital bed.

When they arrive at her house, Eli orders Alba to go out and buy some food and collect any essentials from her own home so that she can partially move into Alexia’s house for the time being. Alba doesn’t hesitate to obey her Mamí, Alexia knows that there is a reason beside Alexia’s lack of food and Alba’s lack of belonging at her house, she’s trying to get Alba away, it terrifies Alexia a little bit knowing that she’s now going to be forced to talk to her mother, one on one.

Eli helps Alexia out of the car, Alexia’s house, is thankfully, one story. It’s an annoyance in the fact that if it were two stories Alexia would have a much larger backyard, big enough that Alexia could run proper drills instead of having to go down to the local oval to get a proper workout in.

It’s convenient in that Alexia can practically be self-sufficient during her recovery and won’t have to worry about finding someone to help her up and down a staircase every time she wants to eat or leave.

Eli gets Alexia seated on her couch, her leg extended across the surface before going back to the car and retrieving her suitcases, leaving Alexia to continue thinking about her current situation.

When she returns, she drags one of Alexia’s foot stools until she’s sat down directly in front of her daughter. Alexia refuses to look her in the eyes, she just can’t, it hurts too much knowing that instead of her being in any other position, she’s here.

“Alexia, look at me.”

Alexia doesn’t, she can’t, it physically hurts her to picture her mothers face. Her mother has been there for her in every single crucial part of her life, all of her wins and triumph and best moments.

“Alexia I did not teach you to ignore me or not look somebody in the eye when they are talking to you.”

Alexia is desperate not to cry, she’s been holding out, for the purpose of conserving peace and mind, it’s just for the best. It’s a struggle dragging her eyes up from the floor to her mother, it’s a struggle not to break down then and there.

She manages it though, she has to do it, she’s Alexia Putellas, she’s an animal on the field, nothing is supposed to scare her.

So why is it that she suddenly feels terrified to admit how she’s truly feeling, to admit that she feels more helpless than she has in her entire life.

Eli’s face softens a little bit when Alexia’s eyes meet her, she recognises the pain in her daughter's eyes, it’s the same pain that was on her face the day that her father died, it’s a level of grief and sadness that Eli hates to see on anybody’s face, especially her daughters. Alexia’s world turned upside down when her father died, Eli swears from that day onwards her daughter changed, there was no longer room for leeway or jokes in Alexia’s life. She knuckled down, harder than anybody, it was how she’d become the football player she was, she’d worked every single day to get to where she was and to see her now completely and utterly shattered, it’s almost enough to kill Eli.

“Ale, you can do this, your papí would want you to do this.”

For once in her life, Alexia doesn’t care. Eli can see the complete disregard in her daughter's eyes, she knows that right now all Alexia wants is to give up and as bad as it is she knows that her father may be one of the only things that will convince her daughter to use her brain and really take a minute to think about what’s next for her.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Alexia is stubborn, she knows what she can and can’t do, she doesn’t need her Mamí to tell her.

“Too bad, we’re talking about it. Alexia, you my daughter, are the best in the world, you have something to fight for, something to return for, you will prove them all wrong, you must.”

Alexia’s household was one that had a never quit rule. It was drilled into her by her father, quitting was the most shameful thing any person could do, it was worse than losing or any other kind of shame, quitting was embarrassing.

Yet Alexia can’t find herself wanting anything more, she wants to quit, she wants this all to be over. Alexia’s brain, since before she can remember, has always been football. She wakes up thinking about football, she thinks about football in the shower, when she’s brushing her teeth, when she’s eating, when she’s training, when she sleeps. All Alexia thinks about is football, she’s obsessed, it’s insanity. Yet Alexia has always loved it, she’s prided herself on being the most consistent, the hardest worker, the person who never stopped. All she wants is for the constant football buzz to finally silence itself, she wants her brain to be quiet, it’s all she wants and yet somehow her thoughts are louder than ever.

“Mamí, I don’t want to talk about it.”

Alexia looks down at her knee, and then back up at her mother, her stupid fucking knee which has wrecked everything.

Alexia knows Spain is playing right now, and she wants to support her teammates more than anything, but she just can’t, she can’t put her team on and act like it’s nothing when really it means everything to her, it literally means everything, every part of her body, soul, heart and brain was so ready for that game and yet now she’s sitting on her couch with a fucked knee.

“Alexia, I need you to promise me, for your father, that you are not going to give up, that you are going to take this recovery as a bump, not a wall and push through.”

It’s so incredibly unfair using the memory of Alexia's father against her, because her mother knows that was her inspiration for everything, when he died something flipped in Alexia that made her who she has become, right now she doesn’t care though, nothing matters to her.

“Mamí, I’m tired.”

Alexia is tired beyond her sleep deprivation, everything else in her life has had her exhausted for years and right now, for the first time it’s all hitting her at full force and it’s more taxing than she could even begin to comprehend.

“Alexia, promise me.”

Alexia shakes her head, her eyes darting away from her mothers face so she doesn’t have to see the disappointment on her face.

“I can’t Mamí.”

Alexia tugs at the blanket on top of her, tugging it over her good and bad leg.

“Then you aren’t the daughter I raised because my daughter would at least try.”

Alexia expects her mothers words to hurt her, but they don’t, she’s already been telling herself the same thing, that she’s no longer the person everybody thought she was, she’s an imposter of who she used to be and there is absolutely no coming back from that.

Eli stands up, leaving Alexia on the couch in contemplation.

Alexia would love to say that her mothers words resonate with her, but they don’t. All Alexia can think about is herself, about her own problems, about her own life, she doesn’t care what anyone else thinks about it, not even her mother.

Alexia stays like that, on her couch, for hours.

Her mother makes her lunch, she doesn’t eat.

Alba returns and tries to talk to her, she ignores.

Her mother cooks her dinner, she doesn’t eat.

She just sits on the couch, thinking, the same thoughts over and over again.

Eventually, Alba forces her to go to bed, her younger sister struggles with Alexia’s weight but is determined to get her into bed, and she does after a bit of push and shove.

Alexia ends up in a similar position to the night beforehand, her bad knee laid on top of as many pillows as possible, ice pressed to it.

Alexia hates it, she hates it so much that she tries in vain to tear the pillows out from under her knee, but she just can’t, she’s too weak.

She collapses back into her pillows, the pillows that smell like Alexia’s perfume and a mix of grass and her body wash.

Alexia’s whole house has some resemblance of football in every single corner, whether it’s the case of trophies she’s won in the entrance, her cleats which are spread out everywhere, different pieces of memorabilia she’s got, kit bags, balls, barcelona kit, Alexia’s house is a shrine for football and right now there is nothing she wants more than to tear it all to pieces, she wants it all to be gone.

In one place, Alexia has started and ended it all.

Everything is over for her, every single dream, every single thing she yearned for at 16, it’s all gone. Alexia can’t believe in a god, no god would do this to her, no god would be so cruel as to condemn her to such a hell.

Alexia’s life is a rinse, lather and repeat for the days leading up to her surgery.

Her Mamí doesn’t talk to her, she force feeds her, makes sure she’s always got an ice pack pressed to her knee and that she’s sleeping. Alexia swears at some stage she begins to slip sleeping pills into her water because sleep that Alexia was running away from suddenly hits her at full force and she’s spending most of her days asleep on her couch.

When her surgery date comes around, she doesn’t feel anything, Mapi calls her, she doesn’t speak, Mapi does enough speaking.

Spain are looking like they’ll get knocked out in the early rounds, something that could have been avoided had Alexia been there, been with her team, instead of a hospital bed awaiting a surgery that would alter things far beyond just her knee.

Alexia wakes up groggy, her mother sitting at her bedside and her sister pacing back and forth at her bedside.

Alexia looks down at her knee and it’s bandaged up so tight and covered so heavily that she knows that this is going to be bad. She doesn’t get a break from her thoughts, they hit her full force, her brain works her out, keeps her going.

Alexia is home by the end of the day, hopped up on pain pills that make her feel even less, which she didn’t think was achievable. She sleeps for three days straight, it doesn’t help the never ending exhaustion she feels.

On day three, she’s forced out of bed to see a physio, the man is abrasive, rude and old. She doesn’t want to participate and all he wants is the pay check, they don’t get along.

He gives her a series of exercises that Alexia won’t do, he gives her pain pills that Alexia won’t take and gives Alexia a number for a psychologist that she will never see.

Alexia is back on her couch within an hour, Alba fussing over endlessly, even though Alexia has expressed her desire for independence multiple times.

By the end of week 2, she’s about ready to take a blade to her throat and quit.

She won’t do the exercises, as much as Alba tries to force her too, this creates some waves between her physio and herself. Alexia’s muscles are gone, she’s not bothered to regain them because why should she be? What does she need a muscle for if she doesn’t plan to use it again?

Alba is at her wits ends, so is Mapi.

María manages to squeeze a visit in during a spare day and what she sees when she arrives at Alexia’s is alarming, it terrifies her.

Alexia doesn’t talk, she doesn’t eat, she doesn’t move.

She thinks, all she does is sit and think.

She thinks about the anger, the people and things she’s lost, the people surrounding her, the air in her lungs, the rush of her blood.

Alexia thinks about everything and also nothing.

She likes it that way, she likes her brain all cloudy and foggy with disclosure. It’s her safety blanket.

At the two week point, Alexia forces her mother and sister out of her house, for her own safety and theirs.

The next day, she gets a knock on the door.

She ignores it, assuming it’ll be Alba trying to feed her or entertain her.

The knocking doesn’t stop, it goes on and on until Alexia’s brain is vibrating with the constant noise and she has no choice but to awkwardly crutch her way to her front door and open it.

Alba isn’t standing there, but another woman is.

“Hola, you’re Alexia Putellas?”

Alexia doesn’t know what to say, she’s been through plenty of media training, what to do if the paparazzi show up at her door, but you don’t look like a paparazzi.

“Yes, what can I do for you?’

You smile so brightly that Alexia isn’t quite sure how one person can look so happy in the current world you’re living in.

“Doctor Matthews sent me, I’m here for your physio.”

Alexia is about to argue, but you push your way past her door and into the threshold of her house.

“Doctor Matthews and I have an appointment tomorrow, not today, and it’s supposed to be in his office.”

Alexia was planning on cancelling it, or postponing it, like she does with most things these days.

“He’s made a change in your treatment plan, due to your refusal to do your exercises at home, Barcelona has advised that they would prefer you take part in a more home-based recovery.”

Alexia follows you back into her own kitchen, slightly shocked at your comfortability with letting yourself in.

“I’m good.”

You roll your eyes at Alexia, looking her up and down before setting down your bag on her counter.

“You haven’t been doing your exercises, I’m here to make sure you do, you can make this as hard as you like but I’m not leaving until you do.”

Alexia doesn’t like your assertiveness, doesn’t like that you are somehow able to make her feel more attentive then she has in three weeks.

Alexia can’t remember a single exercise she’s been given, she simply hasn’t cared to look at them.

“I don’t have any exercises.”

You roll your eyes once again and it makes Alexia feel more genuinely human then she has in a while.

“You do now, we can get started on the couch if you’d like?”

Alexia nods, she doesn’t know what else to do but nodding seems like a good idea.

“If you can just get yourself sat down and then we can get started.”

You nod towards Alexia’s couch, and she follows your direction, crutching over towards her couch and sitting down before swinging her good leg onto the cushions and then her bad one.

It’s probably the most activity Alexia has done in days, she feels inexplicably uncomfortable with you being so controlling over her, yet you don’t care.

“So Ms Putellas, assuming that you’ve done none of your exercises, I’d like to test your ability to straighten out your knee and bend it, does that sound okay to you?”

The smile, it’s like your lips are being stretched into a line that is inhumane.

“Alexia or Ale please, and I did the exercises with Doctor Matthews.”

Alexia wants to tell the physio who’s name she’s yet to learn that she’s been wearing her brace, she’s been staying off her knee, she’s been behaving. Yet she finds herself not saying anything, why should you care, why would you care? Alexia is just a bothersome patient that you are being forced to see, just another broken person.

“So once every couple of days? You do know that a successful acl recovery requires you to exercise more than once every few days. I assume somebody like yourself wants as quick and steady of a recovery as possible.”

Alexia doesn’t say anything, because she doesn’t know what she wants, if she’s being honest, she’s trying to prolong this recovery in an attempt to keep herself away from the pitch for as long as possible, she doesn’t want to be anywhere near a ball or anything resembling her sport that she once held so much love for but now she only holds resentment for.

Alexia flinches when your hands come into contact with her brace, slowly unstrapping the different pieces of velcro.

“Alexia, do you have any plans to play football again?”

Your question may sound rhetorical, but it’s a genuine one.

It’s a question that Alexia has been avoiding for weeks, the brain fog has been enough of a distraction.

“What does that matter?”

You manage to slip the brace off of Alexia’s knee, then the compression sleeve, revealing a swollen knee.

Her stitches had been removed a couple of days ago, leaving an ugly looking scar that Alexia couldn’t bear to look at.

It was just another reminder of her failure, the biggest reminder.

“I want to get you back onto the pitch, but Alexia, you don’t really seem like you want it.”

You don’t mention that you’ve been asked to visit Alexia at the request of her family and friends as well as Barcelona, this is what you’re good at, this is your specialty.

“You have no idea what I want.”

Alexia flinches when your finger flattens out across her scar, her knee jerking at the feeling of the most vulnerable part of her body being touched.

Alexia herself hasn’t dared to touch it, it’s the source of all of her hatred, the last thing she wants to do is touch it, because somehow that makes it all more real.

“Your scar has healed nicely, the surgical site is looking really good.”

You continue to prod around Alexia’s scar, before moving onto the rest of her knee, poking at different parts of the swelling.

“Alexia, do you want to get back on the pitch or do you want to spend the rest of your life on the sidelines?”

It’s another one of those questions that Alexia has purposely been avoiding, because what sort of question is that.

“Best footballer in the world, condemned to a life on the sidelines, that’s a pretty good front page headline, just saying.”

Alexia doesn;t know who or what gave you the nerve to behave so rudely, she just knows that you are getting on her nerves.

“I’m going to bend your leg now Alexia, tell me if you feel any discomfort.”

Before Alexia can protest, your hand is resting underneath her knee and gently lifting it from a 180 degree angle upwards.

“Stop-stop I’m not ready for this.”

You don’t stop, even with Alexia reluctance, gently pushing her stiff knee upwards, finding zero resistance.

“Seems like you're pretty ready to me.”

You smile as you get Alexia’s knee fully bent, her foot flexing to support the weight and steady the movement.

Alexia doesn’t like anything about it, she doesn’t like the fact that you brazenly have taken charge of Alexia like she’s a child.

“Feels good, yeah?”

Alexia doesn’t nod, she doesn’t think it feels good, it feels like bending her knee has just become twenty times harder and there is nothing good about that.

“I’ll take the silence as a yes, have you started walking yet, without your crutches?”

Alexia shakes her head, walking is not something that has been on her mind the last few days.

“Well, let’s try and get you walking then.”

You stand up, extending Alexia’s crutches to her and waiting patiently for her to stand up.

Alexia doesn’t, she’s sick of being bossed around like she’s got absolutely no say in her recovery.

“No.”

You cock your head at her, silently questioning her.

“You want to return to a football pitch in the next 9 months then you are going to get up Alexia.”

Alexia shakes her head.

“I’m not walking today, it’s not happening, I’m not ready, I can’t.”

You take a step back, one of your eyebrows lifting up your forehead.

“As much as I love the can do attitude, if you don’t walk today then you’ll walk tomorrow, I’m not here to make suggestions Alexia, I’m here to rehabilitate you, whether you feel like you’re ready for it or not.”

Alexia shakes her head, again, she wants this person out of her house, effective immediately.

“I don’t have to do what you tell me, get out of my house.”

You laugh at her, you have the fucking audacity to laugh at Alexia.

“Technically no, but your life will be a lot harder if you don’t listen to me and your Mamí gave me her explicit permission to be in here as much as I like, as well as Barcelona. We’ll be doing daily rehab, because you can’t be trusted to do it on your own, so you can walk today, you can walk tomorrow, you can refuse to, but we’re going to do it at some stage and you’re only making your life tougher with everyday you delay yourself.”

You manage to leave Alexia speechless, your arms crossed over your chest, head cocked and eyebrow raised.

“You don’t have to walk, but just get up please, at least move around on your crutches a little bit.”

Alexia meets you halfway with that offer, allowing you to help her stand up and hobble out from her couch and into her kitchen.

Alexia is once again shocked when you walk directly into her kitchen and begin to look through her fridge and pantry.

“You’ve got no food.”

Alexia knows that, the last thing on her mind the last couple of days has been food, most of her meals have come from take out meals that Alba has brought around on her random drop in visits.

“Aren’t you my physio, not a nutritionist?”

You pivot, turning around and eyeing Alexia up and down.

“I’d like to say my services extend beyond traditional physiotherapy, I work in an unconventional space, which calls for unconventional methods.”

The complete confidence you portray makes Alexia wary, and a little bit intimidated.

“Can you take your unconventional methods elsewhere?”

You snort at Alexia, but don’t object.

“I can, I’ll be back in the morning, be ready for more of a workout, I’d get your beauty sleep. I’ll give you my phone number, if you need anything, at any time of day, whatever it is, I’m here if you need me.”

You smile at Alexia, writing your phone number down in her phone which she passes to you, before collecting your things and making your way to Alexia’s door, waltzing your way out like you’d never been.

That night, when Alexia’s laying in bed you’ve managed to insert yourself into her constant brain chatter, you feel like a figment of her imagination more than anything, you insert yourself into her thoughts in a way nobody else has been able to do since her injury and it honestly confuses her more than she thinks possible.

Alexia struggles to sleep, as she does every night, tonight it's for a slightly different reason. She just can’t figure out how or why you’ve suddenly made your way into her life and she doesn’t know how to feel about it.

Alexia isn’t happy when at 9am the following morning there is a non stop knocking at her door, lately, the Catalan has been spending as much time in bed as possible. There is nothing to wake her up, Alba’s taken Nala with her so that her dog can get proper care, Alexia has nothing to wake up for besides her bladder and water if she’s very desperate.

Recently, she’s been sleeping till 12 if possible, getting up between 12-3/4 and then going back to her bed to toss and turn until she finally falls asleep.

It’s tiring, doing nothing, acting like everythings normal when in reality it’s all been turned upside down for her. Alexia hasn’t cried, she can’t, she knows that as soon as she shows any real evidence of how she truly feels it’ll all crack, it’ll all turn into one big mess that she won’t be able to wade her way out of.

Alexia almost trips on four different obstacles on her floor as she crutches her way to the door in a half asleep state, struggling to keep her eyes open as she makes it to her front door.

You’re standing behind her door, multiple bags in hand and the same smile from yesterday on your face.

“Alexia! Bon dia.”

Alexia’s not awake enough to really even take in your presence, let alone reply to the amount of happiness behind your voice.

For the second time in less than 24 hours, you push your way past Alexia and into the threshold of her house, lugging the multiple bags through the hallway until you unceremoniously dump them on her kitchen table.

Alexia crutches her way into her kitchen, still confused by your sudden presence and energy.

“I’ve got food for you, I can make breakfast or we can go for a walk to a cafe and get you out of the house.”

Alexia hasn’t left her house since it happened for anything besides physio appointments, she doesn’t want to, she doesn’t want to face a real world, a world where she’s supposed to be a football player and instead she’s a invalid.

“I can make my own breakfast.”

You open Alexia’s fridge, beginning to unpack the exorbitant amount of food that she’s bought.

“Your focus today is to walk, I’ll focus on breakfast.”

Alexia frowns, a big frown, the last thing on her agenda for today had been to walk, the first thing had been to get a little bit more sleep but that’s already been taken from her.

“I’m not walking today.”

Alexia doesn’t want to have to relearn how to walk, the only time she thinks it’ll ever be acceptable for her to struggle to walk is when she’s 90 and her bones are old and unusable.

“Are you not? I’m fairly sure you are, according to my planner for today.”

Alexia settles herself on one of her island stools, sick of standing and bearing weight.

“You can’t make me walk.”

You shrug at her.

“Technically no, but I beg to differ. Any allergies?”

Alexia shakes her head no, to both questions, you nod your head at her.

“You can’t keep yourself in crutches forever, I imagine you want to get out, go to a pitch and kick a ball or something. Being in your house without any entertainment can’t be much fun.”

Alexia begs to differ, being in her house is the only place she feels safe right now, leaving terrifies her, it makes her feel more vulnerable then she’s comfortable with.

She watches as you pull out some of the groceries you’d tucked away in Alexia’s fridge, placing them out on her countertop before moving into her shelves and finding the tools and pans you needed.

“You haven’t even told me your name and you are in my kitchen making me breakfast.”

You turned and looked up at Alexia, the same smile spread across your face.

“Doctor y/n, y/l/n.”

Alexia nods, she feels a little bit more at peace now that she knows something about you, in comparison to absolutely nothing.

“What are your interests? If we’re going to be seeing each other so frequently then I’d like to know the person I’m with.”

You start to mix together the food, keeping eye contact with Alexia as you do so.

“My job is my life.”

Alexia doesn’t like that answer.

To be fair, anybody who had asked Alexia that same question would have received the same answer in the last fifteen years.

Football is Alexia’s life, or was.

She doesn’t think it is anymore, or she doesn’t really know, it’s one of the big questions constantly circulating in her brain.

“You must have things you do beyond this.”

You shrug at Alexia, this isn’t supposed to be about you, it’s supposed to be about her.

“I enjoy my job, I enjoy rehabilitating people, it’s what I’m good at, if there was a ballon d’or for what I do then I would win it, nobody does my job like I do.”

Alexia believes you, she believes every word that leaves your mouth. The confidence you breathe isn’t over crowding, it’s refreshing, she finds herself feeling more level headed around you then she has in weeks.

“But, you have something else.”

Alexia knows that whilst her life used to be football, and she would define it as so, she still had other things, a party here and there, her family, her dog, food. She has other things that added to her success in her sport.

“I used to dance, the ballet and whatnot, until I tore both of my achilles. That’s why I do what I do. I understand what it’s like to want to spend every single day after an injury thinking about your existence, thinking about what the point is in living if you aren’t defined as your sport anymore. My job is my purpose.”

Alexia doesn’t know what her purpose is anymore, it used to be football, her father, the history behind it all. She doesn’t know if that’s her purpose anymore, she doesn’t think it is. She wants a purpose, she wants to be as sure as you and decide that she’s going to devote herself to helping other people like you do, but she can’t, she doesn’t even see herself leaving her house in the next month, let alone trying to help other people.

The omelette you make Alexia is so delicious that Alexia doesn’t even really notice she’s eating until all of the food is sitting in the bottom of her stomach and she suddenly feels sick.

That's the reason Alexia hasn’t been able to eat, the sickness, the gut rotting feeling that eats at her after any food touches her lips.

There’s no explanation for it, Alexia just hates the idea of nourishing herself, nourishing a body that she’s grown to hate so heavily.

Once Alexia is done eating, you walk around to her, smiling in a way that makes Alexia slightly worried.

“We’re going to walk.”

Alexia shakes her head, although you don’t waiver.

“Up, get up, on your crutches, in the hallway.”

Alexia only obeys for the purpose of keeping the peace that she’s desperate to have a balance of in her home.

She makes it to the middle of the hallway when you tell her to stop, walking up to her and swiftly pulling her crutches out of her hands and walking to the opposite end of the hallway.

“Walk to me.”

Alexia realises your plan, she’s not in reach of leaning on either of the walls beside her without taking a step, she’s stuck, she takes a step or she stays stood.

“Give me my crutches.”

You put them back down against her island, standing with your arms crossed over your chest at the end of her hall.

“Walk to me and you get them back.”

Alexia looks down at her feet, her good one is doing all of the work to support her weight, her bad leg is hardly bearing any weight whatsoever.

Alexia honestly doesn’t know if she could put her foot down, if she could share some of the weight, there is a mental block in her head telling her that something terrible is going to happen if she does, that she’s going to retear her acl or break her knee.

The scariest thought in her mind though, is the thought that everything will be fine, that Alexia is going to be able to walk, that nothing is going to be wrong and she’s going to take a step and it’ll be okay.

The thought terrifies her, because if nothings wrong, then that means that her recovery is going as it should, that she’s on track, that she’s expected to walk and fucking try instead of just slowly fading away into nothing.

“I need my crutches.”

You shake your head, your eyes squinting as you look her up and down.

“Alexia, try and walk for me.”

Alexia looks down at her bare feet, her feet which are holding her body up, without the help of her crutches.

It’s more that she doesn’t want to walk in comparison to feeling like she actually can’t walk.

It’s then that she takes a step.

Alexia’s never been held back by the things that are hard, the things she doesn’t want to do, because that’s what’s always made her so great.

She supposes that if you’re as determined as you say, then she’s going to walk, whether she wants to or not.

The first thing she realises is that it doesn’t hurt, it’s uncomfortable, sore and weird, but it doesn’t hurt in the way that she feels like it should.

One foot in front of the other.

That’s all it is, a foot in front of the other.

Yet, as soon as she does it, something washes all over her.

Her team, her memories, her love for everything that she does.

Football is the only thing on Alexia’s mind, except it’s not about how Alexia can be better, it’s not about what Alexia can do next time she’s on the pitch, it’s not about Alexia’s need to train harder or put in more work. It’s about the love, the atmosphere, the people that she knows and loves and surrounds herself with. The things she’s lost, the people she knows, the people that have surrounded her through it all.

Alexia looks up at you, your grin somehow grown even larger as Alexia slowly, but surely steps her way closer to you with every small bit of meterage that she makes up.

When she makes it to the end of the hallway, you’re there to steady ehr, both on her feet and her mind. Alexia doesn’t reach for her crutches, she steadies herself briefly before making her way back to her couch and taking a seat.

She can’t deal with the praise that she can hear you throwing at her, not with the blood that’s rushing through her ears and the buzzing in her head as the thought of football, or her football memories bounces around in her brain.

Is she ready to let that all go? Disappear from her sport completely and just give up the people and memories that she’s grown to love so deeply? She doesn’t know.

Alexia feels like a broken record, it all goes straight to her head and she can’t get it out.

Alexia supposes she must send herself into some kind of panic attack, because before she can even try to compartmentalise or explain any of her thoughts to herself, she’s fucking crying.

It’s the one thing she’s been avoiding with all of her might, and yet she’s bawling, tears that she detests dripping straight down her face.

If Alexia hates crying, then crying in front of people quite literally makes her want to slit her throat.

Yet here she is, crying on her couch and struggling to take control of herself whilst you take a seat beside her, a hand on her shoulder rubbing circles into her skin through her cotton sleep shirt.

“Alexia, deep breaths.”

Alexia doesn’t want to breathe, or she doesn’t feel like she can, everything is so much harder to do when she’s so in her head, it makes it all so much more difficult.

“Breaths, come on Alexia, focus on your breathing, you can do it.”

Alexia’s never reacted well to being comforted during a breakdown, as a kid she would quite literally lock herself in a wardrobe or some small confined space until she calmed down, Alba would try and hug her, her mother would try and bathe her in random compliments and her father would just be there, she hated it though. She hated pity, she hated attention that wasn’t focused on achievement or greatness,

Yet you somehow don’t make her feel like that, your hand is comfortable and your words are breezy, there are no guarantees that everything is going to be okay, or attempts to rationalise whatever it is that Alexia is feeling, there is just comfort.

Alexia gets herself under control, in a matter of a couple of minutes, but the damage is already done, she’s well aware.

As soon as her breathing evens out and her tears stop falling you remove yourself from her, squatting down directly in front of her, looking at her on eye to eye level.

“21 steps.”

Alexia nods, 21 steps, 21 fucking steps.

“That’s a lot of steps for a woman who tried to tell me she couldn’t walk.”

Alexia tries her hardest to glare at you, but it doesn’t work, not with her red and swollen eyes.

“Never again.”

You snicker, the smile returning to your face.

“3 weeks and 21 steps, you don’t want to know what I can do in a matter of months, I’ll get you back on that field Alexia, better than ever.”

Alexia nods, taking a deep breath through her nose.

“What if I don’t want it?”

It’s the first time she’s admitted that allowed and it’s hard, it’s hard to even utter the words that break up her relationship with her sport.

“Then you are stupid, we can get you back to where you were, I know that sounds ridiculous, but I will get you there, if you want it, if you try hard and trust me.”

Alexia nods, because she feels like she has to more than anything.

“If I do it, I want one thing in return.”

Your eyebrow raises up.

“What do you want?”

Alexia’s never felt more comfortable with a person in her life, it’s a trait she wants in her physio, but also one she’s searching for in another walk of her life. She realised that the minute your hand fell on her body when she was stressing, that somehow you just understood her. Whether it was the injury, the sporting commitment or the work ethic, there were overlaps that Alexia couldn’t be overlooked.

“Let me take you on a date.”

You falter for a second, something Alexia is yet to have seen in the 24 hours she’s met you.

“I don’t date clients.”

Alexia is persistent, something she prides herself on.

“Make an exception for me, if you can make me as good as I was then you’ll let me take you on a date as a form of repayment.”

You roll your eyes.

“I’m already getting paid plenty by your club and family.”

Alexia frowns.

“Please.”

Alexia doesn’t like to beg, she saves begging for the people below her.

“Fine, if you listen to me for a whole 9 months then I’ll let you take me on a date, if you don’t hate me by the time we get there.”

Alexia smiles.

“I’m already planning it out in my head.”

[scary-grace]

#61 for man door hand hook car door

Hi Scarlett! Thank you so much for the prompt from this list (I'm still taking these!). This one took me a bit but I hope you like it! No quirks AU, fluff, sickfic, totally not inspired by anything happening in real life. 2.3k words.

61) “I’ll pick it up after work.”

Your phone rings while you’re on your lunch break, and you pick it up without looking. “Hey, this is –”

“Kill me.”

It’s your boyfriend. Your boyfriend never calls – only texts, because he needs to edit himself before he sends anything. “Hey, Tomura. How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” Tomura’s usually raspy voice sounds distinctly nasal. “I was mouth-breathing on you all night. How did you not smother me?”

“Would you have smothered me?”

“No,” Tomura groans. “It wouldn’t be any different than your snoring.”

“I don’t snore!”

“Yes, you do. I like it. It’s cheaper than buying a white-noise machine.” Tomura coughs. It sounds like he’s making an effort not to cough into the phone, but it’s not much of one. “This sucks.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “I’m really sorry. You wouldn’t have gotten it if I hadn’t made us go to that party.”

“Yeah, maybe not.” Tomura coughs again. “But we agreed. Rules are rules.”

You knew when you and Tomura started dating that he wasn’t much for parties, but he was also able to admit that the occasional party is necessary, and you used one of the three parties you’re allowed to drag him to per year on bringing him to your friend’s engagement party. Said engagement party got a little messy. A little rowdy. A little drink-sharey, which you’re pretty sure is what got Tomura – during some horrible round of mystery cocktail hot potato, he somehow got stuck finishing almost every drink. You helped him out with most of them, but your immune system is bombproof. If one of you was going to get sick, it was always going to be him.

He went to work yesterday, but stayed home today. He was worse this morning than he was last night. “Rules are rules, but I still feel bad,” you say. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Come home and kill me.”

“Other than that,” you say, and Tomura grumbles. “Seriously. Is there something?”

It’s quiet for a second. “Yeah,” Tomura admits. “If you’re not going to kill me –”

“I’m not.”

“Can you grab my stupid prescription? I went to the urgent care and they sent it to the wrong pharmacy.” Tomura’s coughing gets louder, then softer, while you try to avoid saying something dumb out of sheer shock that he’d go to the doctor at all. “It’s far away and I’m tired. Can you grab it?”

“Which pharmacy?” You put your phone on speaker and look up the address. “That’s on the other side of the city. How did they mess it up that bad?”

“Maybe I said it wrong. I forgot my address for a second when I was checking in,” Tomura mumbles. “It sucked in there. It took forever to get seen because there were a bunch of kids ahead of me with marbles stuck up their noses.”

“With – what?”

“Marbles. Up their noses. At a sleepover. It was a dare,” Tomura says. You can hear just how pissed he is about it – or how pissed he would be, if he wasn’t too fatigued to be pissed. “I don’t know why they got to be seen first. My breathing was more obstructed than theirs.”

You try to imagine this – your sick, crabby boyfriend sharing a waiting room with a birthday party’s worth of kids with marbles jammed up their nostrils. It’s hard to picture. “Did you have to wait a while?”

“It felt like a while,” Tomura says. “Wish you’d been there. It would have sucked less.”

If he’d told you he was going, you’d probably have taken off work to go with him. “I wish I’d been there, too,” you say. You lean back against the wall. “I’ll pick it up after work. Is there anything else you need?”

“A cyanide capsule.”

“I don’t think they sell those at the convenience store,” you say. Tomura grumbles again, and you pause for a moment. “Promise me something. Before you kill yourself, at least let me go on a quest to far distant lands to retrieve the cure.”

“I asked you to get the antibiotics, didn’t I?” Tomura’s voice is muffled. “Problem solved.”

“Not just this time. Any time, Tomura,” you say. You and he have had this conversation before, and you’ve gotten better at talking about it. You know his jokes about killing himself are jokes, but you also know they’re a habit, and it’s not a good habit to be in. “Always give me a shot at the quest first.”

“Yeah.” Tomura’s voice is quieter. “You’re busy, right? Go do something or they’ll make you stay later.”

You don’t want to get off the phone, but you do need to eat. And then you need to race through the rest of your work for the day – or do you? Either way, you need to get off the phone. You check the address for the pharmacy one more time. “Okay. I have to go. Just try to rest.”

“I should have gotten you sick, too.” Tomura sounds incredibly mopey, which is what you’d be, if you had the symptoms he’s having. “Then you’d have to stay home with me.”

“Okay, but if I was sick, who would take care of you?”

“Me.”

“You’re also sick.”

“Shit.” Tomura’s hitting his head against the pillow. You can tell by the rustling. “I’m hanging up before I say anything else stupid. Love you.”

“I love you, too,” you say. You hang up the phone. Then you go back inside to talk to your boss.

_________________________________________________________

Tomura shouldn’t have gone to the stupid urgent care. He got the prescription, sure, but it came at the cost of an hour in a packed waiting room, three separate lectures about getting a primary care provider, a cotton swab down the back of his throat to check for strep even though he doesn’t have a sore throat, and a bunch of questions that weren’t even sort of relevant to why he was there. It sapped all his energy and probably exposed him to twenty more diseases than he already has, and he didn’t even get the antibiotics. He had to ask you to get them, and that means it’ll be even longer before you get home.

Tomura’s not an idiot. He knows you don’t have some kind of magical healing powers that can make his headache and cough and congestion go away just by touching him, but he feels better when you’re here, no matter what you’re doing, no matter what’s wrong with him. Tomura’s not an idiot, but he’s also not naïve. He knows he was shooting for the moon when he slid into your DMs. He never expected it to work.

And part of him is still convinced it hasn’t worked, even though you’ve been together for two years and living together for one. It’s not his low self-esteem telling him you’re too good for him – it’s observable fact. You’re smart and hardworking but sneaky about it, so you never have to do more work than you have to, and you’re pretty and cute but you’re also hot, which are things that should go together but don’t go together in real life, and Tomura knows that whenever people look at the two of you together they’re asking themselves the same question. What are you doing? What are you doing with him?

Tomura asks himself that same question every week or so. He still hasn’t worked it out. But he has a feeling it has to do with the fact that he’s able to pull his weight, which he hasn’t been doing since Sunday morning, when he woke up the morning after your stupid friend’s engagement party with an itch in the back of his throat. And then he piled on by making you pick up his prescription. You must be pissed. So what if you didn’t sound pissed on the phone? You must be. Tomura would – no, Tomura wouldn’t. He likes when he can do stuff for you, because it makes you happy, and he wants you to be happy, because he loves you. What is he thinking?

Nothing that makes any sense, so he should probably stop. Tomura brushes the piles of wadded-up tissues into the wastebasket by the bed, then curls up under the blankets on your side. He should get some sleep. It’s just past noon. You’re not going to be home until six. Maybe he’ll feel a little better on the other side of a six-hour nap.

Tomura falls asleep facing your digital alarm clock, so when he hears the apartment door unlock itself and opens his eyes, the first thing he sees is the time. It’s not six. It’s two. Why are you home so early? He can tell that you’re trying to be quiet as you take off your shoes. Maybe you’re trying not to wake him, but he’s already awake. He should let you know

“You –” Tomura starts, then coughs. His voice still sounds like shit, so he coughs again, which turns into a coughing fit, and by then you’re in the doorway. He peers at you through eyes that feel blurrier than they should. “You came back early.”

“I really shouldn’t have gone in at all today,” you say. “When I told my boss your symptoms, she sent me home. Apparently I could be contagious.”

You’re smirking a little bit. Tomura has a feeling you did more than just tell your boss his symptoms, but he doesn’t give a shit. You’re home. “I got your prescription,” you continue, shaking a paper bag, “and I got frozen yogurt instead of a probiotic so you don’t have to take an extra pill. I also got fancy tissues – and ingredients for real ramen if you want that and instant ramen if you don’t – and –”

All of that was one bag. Tomura recognizes the other one instantly – it’s from his favorite game store. “What did you do?”

“New headset,” you say. “You keep saying the one you have hurts your head. If it hurts your head on a regular basis, it probably hurts it even more now – and I know the one you want, so I figured I’d get it. In case you felt like gaming at all.”

Tomura should probably say something. Thank you would probably be a good start, but all he can do is stare at you and cough a little bit. You don’t seem worried about it. You duck out of the bedroom, then come back with a glass of water, a cup of frozen yogurt, and a spoon. You set the antibiotics down next to it and head over to the closet to change out of your work clothes.

Tomura tries to pay attention to the frozen yogurt – using a spoon feels like it requires all of his concentration right now – but he can’t stop glancing over at you. You look good in your work clothes, but Tomura likes it best when you’re comfortable, because you always look good to him and when you’re comfortable you don’t waste time worrying about it. It doesn’t hurt that most of your comfortable clothes were Tomura’s clothes at some point. The pajamas you settle on are half-yours, half-his. Your shorts, which Tomura likes because the elastic waistband is easier to get through than a drawstring is, and his shirt, which he likes because you stole it from him within the first month the two of you were dating and never gave it back.

It takes a spoonful of yogurt nearly sliding off the spoon and into his lap for Tomura to remember what he’s supposed to be doing. He shovels in a few more bites of yogurt, then downs the pill and flops back on the bed, just as you get into bed on what’s usually his side. “You stole my spot,” you say. “What’s that about?”

“Your side is better.”

“That’s not what you said when we moved in,” you point out. “You talked a lot of shit about my side being the worst one.”

“It is. Usually.” Tomura doesn’t want to admit this. He feels like a dumbass. “It smells like you.”

You look surprised. “You can smell stuff right now?”

“Only on one side,” Tomura says, and you laugh. You come closer, too, settling down in bed next to him, and wrapping your arms carefully around him. “You sure you want to do this? What if you get sick?”

“You’ll be done being sick by the time I get it, if I get it,” you say. You kiss Tomura’s cheek, then test his forehead with the back of your hand before brushing his hair out of his face. “I don’t think I will. But if I do get it, then you can take care of me.”

Tomura thinks he could do that. He wouldn’t be as good at it as you are, but you’re giving him a really good tutorial right now. He’s paying attention. Sort of. “I’d say I’m looking forward to it, but you’d have to get sick, so I’m not. Because I don’t want you to be sick. But I would take care of you. I want to, but I don’t want to have to, if that makes sense. It doesn’t make sense. I just – fuck.”

“It’s okay,” you say. You’re smiling at him. “Just get some rest. I could use a nap, too.”

“Yeah.” Tomura wants to talk to you more, wants to hear how your day was going before he ruined it, but now that you’re here, all he wants is to sleep. He sleeps better when you’re here. “Okay.”

The coughing’s not as bad when he isn’t trying to talk. Tomura closes his eyes and slumps against you. “Love you,” he mumbles, and he stays awake just long enough to hear you say it back.

[27spoons]

CRUSH | ACT ONE: HOW CAN I MAKE IT OK?

pairing: natalie scatorccio/fem!reader

summary: A frustrating vending machine and a stolen BuzzBall draw you further into Natalie Scatorccio’s chaotic orbit.

wc: 5180

warnings: (TWO) uses of y/n im SORRY IT WONT HAPPEN AGAIN, reader is a bumbling idiot again whoops, petty theft, brief!reader alcohol consumption, slut-shaming(?)

a/n: am i allowed to say that this photo of sophie just does things to me or nah

ao3 / masterlist

PREVIOUS - ACT ONE: CIGARETTE DAYDREAMS

NEXT - ACT ONE: DO I WANNA KNOW?

The following week seems to drag on like any other, and, much to your surprise, your parents didn't question your absence from AP Chem that afternoon you ditched with Natalie. That had you wondering, could you do it again and get away with it? You've spent the majority of your life building us this carefully crafted persona—one that not a single person would guess would ever act out. If you did it again, would anyone raise an eyebrow at you? Would people believe whatever lie you fed them? That you were sick, had a headache, car troubles?

Either way, the thoughts linger. But you don't see Natalie again until the end of the week, loitering near the vending machines between classes, throwing her hands in the air in frustration and kicking one of them. "God fucking—!" She groans and kicks the machine again before turning around and leaning back against it. "Stupid fucking piece of shit vending machine…"

You hesitate, standing a good few feet away from her as she mutters something under her breath and slams her fist against the vending machine's glass. She looks just about ready to rip the machine apart. 

You hesitate, the door to the parking lot just a few steps away. Maybe you should keep walking, let her deal with the vending machine on her own. But then her eyes catch yours, and it’s already too late to slip away unnoticed.

“You just gonna stand there, or are you gonna help me?” she calls out, a teasing edge to her voice. She gestures dramatically to the machine, like it owes her something. Which, in a way, it does.

You step closer to her and the offending vending machine, "What happened?" "What happened?" Natalie scoffs, "What happened is this piece of shit—" She kicks the vending machine again, "vending machine stole my cash and didn't even spit out my fucking M&M's." She glances around, eyes landing on a fire extinguisher, eyes lighting up like she just got an idea.

"Nope!" You say immediately, fishing some loose change from your pocket, "Just… here. How much is it? Two dollars?" You place down a handful of quarters and dimes into her hand. "Just punch in for another one. Please don't break the machine." You glance around as if someone's watching the interaction, but the halls are empty.

Natalie stops and looks down at the change you've given her, back at you, the change, you, the change, then shrugs and slots the coins into the machine. "Fuckin' rich people…" Which seems to be her way of saying, "Thank you for not letting me break the vending machine because the last thing I need is another suspension," but what do you know?

You watch her stuck M&M's fall to the vending area alongside the bag behind it, meeting again at the bottom of the machine. "Fuck yeah." Natalie grins as she sticks her hand in, pulling out two bags of M&Ms. 

Naturally, you assume that Natalie will give you one of the bags.

Naturally, you're proven wrong as she stuffs one of the bags into her pocket, ripping the other open and dumping them right into her mouth. "Mmfanks, princess." She grins as she chews, and for a moment, you wonder if she's ever learned not to talk with her mouth full, but you quickly get your answer when she keeps talking. "Y'should be in class." 

You glance around, and that's when you realise why the halls are so empty. The bell rang a good five minutes ago. "Damn." You murmur, quickly stepping back and glancing toward your next class, when you hear a noise of disapproval coming from behind you.

"Where y'going?" She says, mouth no longer full of M&Ms. "You should just skip the rest of that day. Already running a little late, what's just… not going?" She shrugs.

You make your own noise of disapproval, "No, I… I would be skipping another chemistry class with Mr. Carr." You fidget, glancing between the direction of your class and Natalie.

"Okay…" She drawls, "Did he care last time?" 

"Uhm…" You shift awkwardly, staring at the floor now, "no…"

She hums, popping a single candy into her mouth, "Did your parents?"

You don't answer that—because the answer was also a no. You gave some excuse to your parents about not feeling well that block, and they believed you. And you're pretty sure you could just get the notes from today's class from that guy that sits across from you…

"Exactly." Natalie's voice cuts through the quiet, "You don't have any reason not to! No one gave a fuck. And you're, like, smart." She gestures at you, "I'm sure you can handle missing one class without your GPA dropping or whatever."

You open your mouth to retort, then click your tongue and cross your arms, a pout on your face. Usually, you could probably find some retort to that. But�� maybe a part of you has already made your mind up for you.

"I… really shouldn't…" You murmur, trying to convince yourself that you should go to class.

"Yeah, you should." She rolls her eyes, tossing another M&M into her mouth, "Come on. Live a little. You keep letting this…" She gestures to nothing, "Fear control you; you're never actually gonna live!" Natalie laughs to herself, "Dude. Princess. Come on. What's one class? At the end of the day?"

You're about ninety percent sure she used that logic last time.

That being said, you've never been that good at putting your foot down before.

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, "Dammit." With a resigned shake of your head, you look up at Natalie, who has a smug grin on her face as if she already knew your answer. "Fine."

"Mm, try not to sound so excited, yeah?" She pops another chocolate into her mouth and starts walking to the exit, clearly expecting you to follow. 

"Do you ever wait for people?" You whisper-yell as you walk after her, taking quick strides to catch up. 

"Nope." She pops the p, "If you wanna come, you'll come. If you don't, you won't." She shrugs and actually offers you the bag of M&Ms. "Want one?"

"Oh, uh, sure." You stick your hand out and she dumps a few chocolates into her hand before she throws the doors to the school open and walks out into the open air, taking an exaggerated inhale.

"Ahhh, air. See, this is what you miss when you stay cooped up in school all day, Princess." She grins smugly to herself, tossing the candy wrapper in a garbage can as the two of you walk. "Fresh air and the smell of cigarettes." And, before you can say something about not being able to smell cigarettes, she fishes a pack of smokes out of her pockets, placing one between her teeth and bringing a lighter to the end.

"Do you ever not smoke?" You ask, more to yourself than her, and (affectionately) roll your eyes. "Nope." She pops the p again, "Always got a cancer stick in my mouth." She grins to herself as if she's proud of herself for that fact. 

"But it's a nasty habit." She adds, after a beat of silence, "I don't even remember when I stopped smoking for "fun" and started smoking because I had to." An exhausted sigh leaves her, and she wipes the nonexistent sweat on her brow with her thumb. 

Silence follows after she shares that piece of information—as if it's the first time she's admitted that out loud. An unreadable expression crosses her features, although you're sure you can detect her underlying unease with admitting that.

"Where are we going this time?" You clear your throat, trying to ease the sudden tension that appeared. "Back to the skatepark?" Nat shakes her head as she ashes the cigarette, "Nah. I need a Redbull or something. Got shit I need to do tonight, and I might as well have been hit by a train. Fuckin' exhausted."  You glance at her as she says that, looking for signs of exhaustion, but find nothing visible. Maybe it's the fact she looks like a raccoon, the bravado she carries, or just… her, but she seems fine. Maybe she just hides it well.

"Honoured to, uh, join you on this very meaningful adventure." You say sarcastically, which earns a snort from Natalie.

"God, you're such a dork. It's cute." You find yourself flushing at the compliment despite yourself, finding yourself extra embarrassed for reacting like that, especially considering that she said it sarcastically, but you can't help yourself. "Yeah, whatever." You mumble, which earns a snort from Natalie. 

"An embarrassed dork." She remarks without even looking at you, a low chuckle falling from her lips. "Now that's cute."

Oh, God. Your cheeks feel like they're on fire. Simple compliments shouldn't be getting to you the way they are, and she seems to know and bask in this fact. She lets a shit-eating smirk don her face, but you're lucky enough she chooses not to embarrass you further.

"Hey," Natalie speaks up after the two of you walk in silence for a few blocks, "Y'know, thinking about it, I don't think I ever got your name." She glances at you, "Mind spilling a secret to me?"

"Oh, uh, yeah. It's y/n." "Hmm." Natalie hums, "Right, right. That is… y/n is a name for sure. A good name! But I think I prefer Princess. Therefore, I will keep calling you that." She says, seeming overly pleased with herself.

"Right." You mumble, wondering why you thought there would be any other outcome to this conversation. "Don't take it personally." She muses, taking a drag from her cigarette, "Princess just suits you." A beat, then she blinks a few times and almost bashfully adds: "In a good way. Obviously. Not in a…" She gestures with her free hand to nothing, which she seems to do a lot. "Not in a "you're an uptight bitch" typa way, alright?" A small crack in the facade, genuine bashfulness from the woman you swore was never anything but sure. But, it's gone as quickly as it appeared as she clears her throat. "Whatever. Just… don't take it personally." She waves her hand dismissively. 

"Thanks." You murmur, a small, excited grin on your face as you walk beside her, feeling like some type of schoolgirl interacting with her crush for the first time at the… almost compliment. 

"Yeah. Whatever." She responds, pointedly avoiding your gaze for the rest of the walk.

…which, in all honesty, isn't that long. Maybe another minute before you're walking into a QuickChek.

The store has seen better days, without question. The floors are all scuffed, the air conditioning is making this weird creaking sound that honestly scares you a little bit, and the clerk looks like they couldn't honestly give a single fuck about anything. A tornado could blow through the shop, and they wouldn't care.

Natalie seems to already know where she's going, walking with a purpose to the far left corner of the store. She walks her fingers across the fridges that line the walls, humming an imaginary tune to herself as she does. She stops at a particular door and swings it open, grabbing herself a RedBull before pausing to look at you, "You getting anything?"

"Oh!" You fumble for a moment, grabbing a water bottle that was in your backpack and waving it briefly, "I'm all good." You take a small sip for effect, but it just earns a slightly confused look from her before she shrugs and closes the fridge.

As the two of you wait in line at the register (the old man in front of you has about thirty lottery tickets he wants checked), you let out a gentle laugh when you see a BuzzBall sitting on the counter.

"Y'know, I've always wondered what they taste like." You nod towards the drink, "Does it live up to the hype?" You muse out loud, "Chili Mango?"

The blonde snorts, "Nah. It's blown way out of proportion." She shakes her head as the guy in front of you two complains about not winning anything on another ticket. "I'm easy for coolers. I'll take…" She gestures to nothing, "A Mike's Hard or Smirnoff Ice. Maybe a Four Loko if I'm feeling interesting. But BuzzBalls…" She shrugs and slides her drink towards the clerk as the lottery ticket guy walks off, "I dunno. Overrated."

"Huh." You consider that piece of information as you look at the offending beverage. 

You don't find much time to consider it until you hear a "Dude, what the fuck?" from Natalie. You glance over at her, and she's glaring daggers into the clerk. "I gave you a five. Where's my change?"

"Nope. You gave me two ones." He shrugs, glancing at his phone, "Must have remembered wrong."

"Dude." She makes a fist with one of her hands in frustration, but it doesn't look like she wants to punch him; instead, she seems like she's just trying to restrain herself. "I get that this job probably pays like shit, but what do you get skimming three dollars off a fuckin'... high schooler?" She makes a slightly confused expression at the "high schooler" comment, as she immediately realises that it's a stupid argument, but it's too late to change it now.

"I didn't take anything from you." He rolls his eyes, "Jesus. Calm down. Just, like, check your pockets, or whatever." He rolls his eyes again, clearly not giving a shit. Natalie, on the other hand, looks pissed. But she knows better than to argue about something like this with a clerk who would probably press the panic button if she tried anything. "Fine." She glares at the clerk a moment longer before her eyes flash to the BuzzBall you were looking at previously, smirks, grabs it from the countertop without fuss, and walks out the door. If the clerk notices, he doesn't say anything. So, you simply just skitter out after Natalie.

She's still walking away, jaw clenched, so it takes you a few seconds to catch back up with her. "Dude, what—"

She stops walking, faces you, presses the drink into your hand, and keeps walking. "There. Now you can try a BuzzBall—since you wanted to." 

"Wait, no, I'm just… what happened in there?"

"The asshole stole my change." She mutters as she cracks the RedBull open. "So I was just getting my money's worth." A large swig from the can, "Like, steal from the rich old guy making you scan hundreds of lottery tickets, and not the chick who has almost her entire outfit thrifted from Good-fucking-Will."

She huffs, then shakes her head, "Whatever. Have a drink. Tell me if it was worth it."

You hesitate, looking between her and the beverage, but eventually sigh. "Dammit…" You crack the tab on the lid and take a long sip. When you lower the container back down, you roll the drink around on your tongue a little bit before frowning. "This is just… okay, I guess."

Natalie laughs. Low and genuine and it makes her eyes crinkle. "Well, yeah, I told you that. Glad you're realising it now, though." She shoots you an easy grin and resumes the path she's taking.

You walk alongside her for a few minutes in relative silence, sipping on the drink while she smokes a cigarette and takes the odd swig from her RedBull, seemingly lost in thought.

After a few more sips of the BuzzBall, you let out a soft laugh. “You really just took it and walked out. That’s… kind of insane.”

Natalie snorts, "Relax, Princess. It's just a BuzzBall. Small potatoes. 's not like I boosted a car or anything." She grins to herself, "Unless, of course, this is your first brush with crime?" She muses in a sing-song voice, "I may succeed in corrupting you yet."

You scoff to hide your blush, "Okay. Whatever. I'm just saying…" You shrug and kick a pebble, "What if he, like, called the cops or something?"

"Cops have better things to do than chase down two high schoolers for a single drink." She snorts, "Trust me. I would know." 

You cock an eyebrow at her, "My bad, forgot you were a delinquent. Of course, you have all the information on how cops in this town act." The tone is teasing, and… wow. You've been surprising yourself a lot lately, haven't you? Teasing like this is… new. Very new. You think you like it.

And, for what it's worth, Natalie seems to like it, too.

"Mm, well, someone has to teach the nerd how to live, yeah?" She takes a swig from the can, "Might as well be the delinquent on first-name basis with the entire police population of Wiskayok." You roll your eyes fondly, "Yeah, no one better to teach me, I suppose."

"Exactly. Who better than the adrenaline junkie?"

"Adrenaline junkie?" You parrot, "I suppose that sense. I'm assuming your driving record is worse than your rap sheet?"

That earns you a laugh from the blonde, "Oh, by far. If I ever got caught, anyway. Listen, Princess, if you're gonna go double the speed limit, you gotta learn how to avoid radar. Plus, no one thinks that the forty-year-old Ford Ranger is goin' that fast. It's all about stealth." A wide grin rests on her face, smug and sure. "I got a lot I could teach you, Princess. 'lot I could sell you on."

"Nancy Reagan has taught me to Just Say No to drugs, thank you very much." You muse with a teasing lilt, "You cannot sell me on that."

"That's the first place your mind goes to? Drugs?" She laughs again, throwing her head back. "And Nancy Reagan? Jesus. How old are you?" You notice her eyes crinkle when she laughs, and the dimple on her cheek is more prominent. A careless sort of happiness that almost makes you envious for some reason.

"Old enough to remember the good ol' days before the youth of America were corrupted by these goddamn liberals…" You say in your best "old person" voice.

Natalie keeps laughing, "Oh my God, you are a fucking loser!" And, despite the words sounding harsh, you can tell she doesn't mean them in a cruel way. It's… affectionate, almost. You'd probably be mildly offended if anyone else had said it like that. But, hey. Maybe you're just too whipped to care right now.

When the laughing settles down, you walk alongside her in relative silence, occasionally glancing her way as she alternates between taking sips from her energy drink and drags from her cigarette.

The two of you continue down the street, the quiet moments between conversations seemingly ten times easier than the previous time you were alone. Natalie doesn’t seem like the type to enjoy the silence, but with her focus on finishing her cigarette and you sipping at the nearly empty BuzzBall, it’s easy to forget how quickly time is passing.

"So," You finally ask, "Have a habit of convincing people to skip classes for convenience store runs and abandoned skatepark trips, or am I just special?"

"You tell me, Princess." She grins at you, "You feel special?"

You roll your eyes, "Am I supposed to feel special, Natalie?"

Natalie glances at you, cigarette perched between her fingers. “You know, you don’t have to call me Natalie. Feels weird coming from you.”

"What, you want me to call you "Princess" now, too?"

"Nah." She laughs, low and warm. "Nat's fine. Save my legal name for my mom or the next cop that wants to book me, yeah?" She finishes with a gentle nudge of her shoulder against yours, "Seriously. No one calls me Natalie."

You raise your hands up in defense, "Alright, alright." You return her laugh, "Then let me ask again, Nat, am I supposed to feel special?"

Nat hums as she considers this, moving her head from side to side in mock thought. "You know what? Yes. I think you should feel special, Princess. Not only do you get to spend time with me, but you also get your own nickname. Pretty cool, huh?" An easy grin slides across her face, "So, yes. Honoured, special, privileged, fortunate… whatever SAT words you wanna use for it. But the answer is yes."

"Alright." You say again, "Then I feel special, Nat."

"Nice." She smiles and nods to herself, taking another swig from her can as she does, "Mission accomplished." That smile slowly slips into something goofier, and for another moment, you see the girl behind the bravado. Sure, maybe you're reading too much into it, but… you're starting to get the idea that she isn't this "untouchable hardass criminal" half the school makes her out to be.

"Wait," You glance around, "You… took us back to school? Thought you wanted to ditch?" Nat shakes her head and gestures to an alleyway between two school buildings, leading you between them.

"We are ditching, and we will remain ditching." She puts the butt of her cigarette into her now empty RedBull can, "I got soccer practice after school. So, yeah, I gotta be here even if I'm ditching class."

"Huh." You lean against one of the walls, "You're really into the whole soccer thing, huh?"

Natalie scoffs, "Yeah, shocker, isn't it? The deadbeat actually cares about something other than drugs."

You frown at that, "That wasn't what I meant. I just…" You sigh, "I meant it in a "tell me more" way, not a "I'm making fun of you" type of way."

"Oh." She seems genuinely surprised that you're curious but nods after a moment's hesitation. "Right. Well, uh. I started playing in middle school." The blonde can't seem to meet your eyes as she speaks, and you swear you can see the faintest touch of red on her cheeks. "Kept playing, I guess. Worked my way up to varsity." She holds her arms open to show off her varsity jacket. "Coach thinks we have a good chance of going to states this year, and states is just one step closer to nationals." 

"Damn. So you've been… you must be really good then, yeah? Are you a starter?" You know jack shit about sports—if you're being honest with yourself. You're just throwing around words you think are relevant to the situation.

Nat nods, a sardonic grin on her face. "Yeah. A starter." She shakes her head and lets out a gentle huff, "Varisty starting winger." A beat of confusion on your part, "Means that it's my job to get the ball to the player who takes the shot, Princess. I'm basically the assist hound. Or, well, that's what Coach wants me to play as, anyway. Keeps saying some shit about how I got "good ball-handling skill" and "the ability to weave through tight spaces" or whatever." She shrugs, acting like that isn't great praise to receive from your coach.

"Wow, so you are really good." You give her an encouraging smile, "That's cool."

"Yeah," Nat grunts, "I guess. Beats doin' nothin'."

"I dunno. I think it is pretty cool. It's one thing to play it casually; another to be good enough to make it to varsity in high school, and another to win nationals." 

"Woah, woah," Nat puts her hands up in defense, "Rewind a little, yeah? We haven't even gone to regionals yet, let alone states." She runs her free hand through her messy hair, "But I appreciate the… unwavering support, or whatever." She glances away again and scuffs her shoes on the pavement, looking uncharacteristically timid.

You get the idea this girl isn't used to receiving praise of any sort.

Interesting.

But, like most cracks in the facade, it's gone before you have time to dwell on it. "That mean I can expect to see you cheering me on in the stands when soccer season starts, Princess?" She asks, taking a step towards you, close but not quite in your personal space. 

"Uh, well, uh, actually, uh, I—" She's not even being particularly seductive. If anything, it just looks like… she's stepping closer to hear you better, or so she doesn't have to be so loud. Yeah. Something like that. "Sure, I, uh, I  just don't know when soccer season starts." You mumble while getting the feeling that your face is gonna be red a lot around her. "So, I'll, uh, I guess, need your schedule or something. Or whatever." You shrug—like the flustered bastard you are.

"Right." Natalie scoffs and fishes her phone out of her pocket, unlocks it and hands it to you, "Throw your number in there, yeah? I'll text you the soccer schedule for this season."

Oh, wow.

If you were a flustered bastard before, you might as well be a complete mess now.

You stare at her phone for a solid five, maybe ten, seconds in silence.

"Right." You grab her phone, and with wide eyes, you create a new contact. 

You return the phone to her, and she immediately sends you a text, "There. You get my message?" You grab your own phone out of your pocket and check to see if you have any new messages, and you do. 

"BuzzBall." You read the message back to her, "Yeah, I got it."

"Cool." Nat grins and shoves her phone into her jacket pocket as she rocks back on her heels, seemingly debating on asking a question.

She never gets the chance to.

"Oh, shit! Look who it is!" One of the two guys walking past the alley you and Nat had ducked into chirp, "The resident burnout! Suck any dick, recently?" A cruel laugh leaves his lips as he nudges his taller friend, "Or, hey, maybe you've been sucking on something else?" He looks at you with a grin. "Find a new bitch to fuck?"

"Nah, this one don't look her type." The taller one chimes in, "She only into the bitches she gets in juvie and older guys, yeah?" They both laugh at that, seemingly finding themselves very funny. 

You had heard the rumours. Of course you had. Who hadn't? But it was one thing to hear a rumour and another to see it yelled at in her face from across an alleyway. When you glance over at Nat to see her reaction, you're… almost shocked to see an expression of hurt on her face. 

The hurt doesn't last long, and you quickly find seething anger taking its place. 

You glance back at the guys as one of them speaks up again, "I mean, hey, if you ever want a dick to suck, mine is available!" The taller guy laughs, nudging his friend. "Come on! The seat in my Beamer goes all the way back!" They both laugh again.

"Nat—" You turn back to look at her and see a deep scowl on her face as she reaches behind her, into her waistband. You really aren't sure what she's about to grab, but you really don't want to know, either. "Woah!" You laugh nervously, "O-okay! Haha! Wow!" 

The guys seem to notice the moment of her hand, and although the taller one seems to falter slightly, the other doesn't care in the slightest. "Oh, come on, Scatorccio! Don't wanna get thrown back in juvie for assault, do you?" He laughs, "Or maybe you do! Find yourself a new girlfriend for the winter!"

Natalie's jaw tightens, and her wrist twitches, clearly debating whether this is worth her time.

"Come on, burnout! You packing heat or something? Let us see it! Is it the same gun you used to rob that corner store last year?" He continues laughing, but the taller one is not having it, discreetly tugging on his friends backpack and mumbling something.

"Natalie." You laugh nervously again, this time reaching out to gently grab her wrist as you see her hand move again, "Come on. It's not worth it." You hesitate a moment, and your awkward smile drops, "Please."

She tenses further at your touch, but the next time you look up at the two guys, you see the taller one clearly trying to leave. At least one of them has some sort of self-preservation instincts. Seemingly realising that they're going, her jaw immediately loses its tension. 

A moment of very tense silence passes between you, your hand still on Natalie's wrist, her hand still reaching for something in her waistband. Luckily (or unluckily), she breaks the silence with a loud, annoyed scoff.

"Christ, relax." She pulls away from you, audibly and visibly upset. "It was a fucking knife, Princess." She pulls out a switchblade and waves it once, "You seriously think I would carry a fucking gun or something on me?"

"I didn't know what you were carrying! Gun, knife, machete, fucking… nunchucks, I don't know! I just didn't wanna see you get into a fight!" You run your hands through your hair nervously, "Especially not with two guys double your size!" "First off," The blonde scoffs, putting the knife away again, "I don't need someone looking out for me, alright? If I choose to fucking get into a fight with two douchebags, that's on me. Second off, why do you even care? Huh? You don't even know me! We have hung out twice!"

"Maybe I'm just a decent person who doesn't want to see people get into fights?!" You counter, growing increasingly confused as to why she's getting mad at you now. "It's not that I agree with anything they said, Natalie! I just…" You throw your hands up in frustration. 

You do care about her, as stupid as it sounds. Despite not knowing her that long, you do care about her safety, and you really don't want to see her get hurt right now.

"I just don't want to see you get hurt, okay?" You say, softer this time. "Okay? I know it really isn't my place; I just… don't want you to get hurt, okay?"

Natalie's bravado seems to falter at that, and you see a flicker of guilt cross her face for a moment before it's gone, and she looks away with a scowl. "Yeah, well… whatever."

There are a very tense few moments of silence before Natalie seemingly can't take it, and she shakes her head with a grunt. "Whatever. I gotta get going. Like I said, shit to do tonight." She tosses the empty RedBull into the nearby trash can and makes to leave, but hesitates for a moment.

Turning her head slightly—but not properly facing you—she offers her parting words. "For the record," she starts, her voice soft, "you really aren't that bad, Princess. I'll make a burnout of you yet." Then she's off again, leaving you alone against the side of the school.

You're pretty sure that's a compliment. That being said, you don't really know with her, but you'll take it as a positive for now. What is it with her and leaving with ambiguous comments? 

Ugh.

When did relationships get so complicated?

a/n: ok MAYBE im taking some slight inspiration from the show... sue me. also... i don't think natalie would be the type of person to just rob random stores n shit. i really think she would only do it if she felt it was justified. shes not a bad person shes just rough around the edges ok 😔✊

...I've never had a buzzball and know nothing about soccer btw

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[2:49 am]

(cw: mentions of sex but there’s none I promise)

"Agh! Oh fuck!" You heard, even through the flat pillow pressed to your ear.

You were frustrated, on the brink of angry crying. Sometimes you hated being at the frat house, and this was one of those moments. These moments didn't happen often. One, because fratboy!Jaehyun often spent the night at your dorm, or two, his frat brothers weren't fucking at 2- nearly 3 in the morning!

You couldn't even tell who it was and you didn't want to know, all you wanted was to fall asleep and hope that you didn't hear this girl moaning in your sleep.

But it didn't happen, in fact, you started hearing bumping against the wall. God, this was awful.

You sat up angrily, ripping the comforter off your body and got out of the bed.

Jaehyun blinked his eyes open groggily, "Baby? What's wrong?"

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes to find a sense of calm and only felt brief relief of your burning eyes. "I'm going home," you answered bluntly.

You moved around the room, pulling on one shoe while grabbing one of Jaehyun's hoodies.

Jaehyun got out of bed, too stumbling after you, clearly tired and confused. "It's like 3 in the morning, you're not going home right now."

"Exactly! I've been laying on a mattress barely thicker than a textbook, with flat pillows, a sheet that clearly doesn't fit, and one of your disgusting frat brothers has decided this is the perfect time to fuck at normal volume. I'm just so tired!" You exclaim, tired tears filling your eyes.

Jaehyun's eyes widen in shock, he pulls you into a hug, rubbing a comforting hand up and down your back. When he finally listens in, he can hear the moans and grunts coming from nearby and wonders how that hadn't woken him up too.

"I'll handle all of it ok? You're not leaving, it's late and I'd rather you stay here. Just lay down, I'll get you another blanket, and you don't have to worry your pretty little head about anything else," he tells you before pressing a kiss to your forehead and leading you back to his bed.

He quickly adjusts the sheets, fluffing up his pillows, and lays out another blanket for you. He pulls some white noise machine he'd won as a white elephant gift out of the closet and puts on calming ocean noises on for you before he slips out of his room, making sure his door is closed behind him.

He walks down the hall until he finds the door where the noise is coming from. Haechan's door. He knocks for a while until the door opens to reveal a smiley, fully dressed, Haechan. "What's up, bro?"

Jaehyun raises his eyebrows as he peeks inside, there's no one there. "Did your girl escape through the window?" Jaehyun asks.

"What girl?"

"I heard you fucking bro. There was some girl moaning and you were banging on the wall. My girl has been awake for hours trying to sleep because of you," Jaehyun explains, running a tired hand down his face.

Haechan flushes bright red, he looks a little embarrassed, "So I was up gaming, but you guys get mad when I yell so I started playing porn really loud so you guys might understand more."

Jaehyun deadpans, "for four hours? Your ass can't hang that long. What the hell was the bumping into the wall?"

"Some fucking noob on my own team killed me," Haechan rolls his yes, "And yes I can hang. Ask your mom."

Jaehyun shoots him a look, crossing his arms across his chest, almost asking Haechan to keep talking about his mom.

"Sorry, I mean ask your girl. Night bro, tell our girl sorry. I'll make it up to her later," Haechan adds before quickly closing and locking his door. This fucking kid.

Jaehyun shuffles back to his room, tired and cold. He steps back into the room, confused when he hears whale noises before remembering his new white noise machine.

He pulls the covers back only to find you sprawled out across the mattress with a few inches of space left for him. He can't even resist the affectionate chuckle that escapes him. He slips into bed and you immediately turn into him unconsciously, cuddling him in your sleep.

He doesn't think he's ever going to love anyone as much as he loves you.

-

a/n: while I have you here, please check out this post and let me know your thoughts, thankssss🫶🏼

[katz-rambles]

Here you go! I hope you enjoy this!

1k words! Finally getting my motivation back! And I'm so sorry this took so long for me to get out, I hope you enjoy!

(fluff, fem!reader, reader gets overwhelmed and Vander's there to help, pining, a little suggestive at the end, I think this is it!)

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰

Your shift just seemed to drag itself out, every patron that came in seemed to suck all the energy you had, just to make it worse, it's insanely humid in Zaun and you've basically been sweating all day. You considered leaving early and getting someone to take over your shift, but in the end you decided to stay. It's only your fifth shift in The Last Drop. The only thing that seems to be making it more bearable this day is those small moments you've been able to get with Vander.

Each lingering touch or brush past you've gotten from him has your heart pounding against your ribcage, you're almost afraid your ribcage will break at this rate.

Your shift starts only a few minutes before happy hour starts, this gives you a small gap to get used to the machines and prepare yourself for the rush. Happy hour is always busy and fast paced, it's almost unbearable. When you pull the lever for one of the machines it seems to get stuck, no matter how hard you start to tug on it, it doesn't budge. You start to panic internally, afraid that you, somehow, managed to break it.

You try to push it back up to get it unstuck, but once again, it doesn't move, not even an inch. The only thing it does is creak and groan as you push and pull on it. The feeling of hot tears pricking the sides of your eyes rips you away from your panic, only for a second. Because, of course it decides to break before happy hour, and of course, it’s on your shift.

“You good there, sweetheart?” You almost jump out of your skin when you hear Vanders low voice behind you, but you do end up turning around so quickly you're almost surprised you didn't give yourself whiplash. You try to talk but all the words get stuck, only a pathetic noise manages to escape from you. Thankfully, Vander manages to take the hint and he places a warm hand on the small of your back. He lets you compose yourself, handing you a handkerchief so you can wipe your tears. He even grabs you a glass of water, when he places it down his hand seems to find yours.

When you start to calm yourself, you seem to notice just how much bigger his hands are compared to yours, and how warm he is. His presence alone helps to calm you down, but his touch doubles that effect. He pulls his hand away from yours and rubs your face with the back of his hand, his voice is low and comforting as he speaks, “there ya go, luv. Now, tell me, what's wrong?” You explain what's happening to him, you can't help but feel a little silly as you explain it, how could you have let a stupid machine get you so worked up. He occasionally nods as you explain what went wrong and where, showing you that he's still listening.

When you've finished explaining he chuckles and turns you around so you're facing the machine again and he stands behind you, bringing his hands up to the machine so you can see what to do if this happens again. Although you're not doing very well on the ‘focusing’ part of this whole thing, all your mind can seem to think about is how close he is to you, how warm he is and just how good he seems to smell. You watch, intently, as he grabs the lever to the machine and, with his other hand, gives the side of the machine a hard hit, and then just like that he manages to pull the lever down. He leans his head down and whispers something in your ear, a quick explanation concerning what happened, and how to fix it if what he showed you doesn't seem to work. You know you should have listened better, but he made it quite hard to.

You're grateful that he found you when he did, otherwise your shift, and happy hour, would have ended horribly. The patrons quickly come piling in when the clock hits five. You're not surprised by that.

Through your shift, Vander seems to linger behind the counter more than he normally would. He brushes past you more, and helps you with little things, getting closer to you and distracting you from the task at hand. Although, you don't mind, it does get a little troubling when there's six people waiting for their drinks and all you can focus on is the presence of Vander. Each time he touches you it feels like it's on purpose, and you can't tell if he's actually doing it on purpose or not. His touches start to wander a bit more when you're just wiping down the counter, his hand rests on your waist and finds its way up to your back, and then his hand brushes some of the stray hairs out of your face. Each touch lingers longer than the last. Then, it escalates to small praises, when it started, you're not sure, but you're also sure as hell not complaining about it either.

You give one of the patrons his drink, sliding it over, careful not to spill it and you take the bill he hands you. You take the empty glass and put it in the sink, collecting the money and washing the dishes before another customer has the chance to pull you away from your tasks. “You're running a tight ship tonight, aren't ya, darlin’? Good girl.” Vander whispers in your ear, you weren't even aware that he was there, his voice always manages to send shivers down your spine. His praise doesn't go unnoticed by you, even if it's for a small task. Though tonight feels different, he's more open about his praises, and you're loving each and everyone he gives you.

By the end of your shift, you feel like a flustered mess. When you step out of The Last Drop, you're excited for your next shift. If it's anything like this one you might just have to take that overtime. Maybe if you work up the courage you'll tell him just how he makes you feel, but you'll save that interaction for later, you won't tell him how he makes you feel, instead you'll show him.

[causenessus]

love notes

part 0.16. REMEMBER IN THE MORNING

“i’ll be your morning bright goodnight shadow machine i'll be your record player baby if you know what i mean i was your starry-eyed lover and the one that you saw we were just two moonshiners on the cusp of a breath and i've been burning for you baby since the moment i left."

from paul by big thief, left at the maneater, shiga, japan

after his last text, she’s waiting in silence, staring up towards the shadowed ceiling of her dark room.

she’d been caught off guard initially by his texts, and it had only worsened the longer it went on. her throat felt like it was going to close up. one moment he was calling her out and saying his own sweet things, and the next he was brushing everything off. she wasn’t sure what to trust and what not to. he was adamant about denying having a part in any of the pictures he had sent, but this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. there was the flower box, too, and the story osamu had told her.

now that she thought about it, it had lined up too well. a fire extinguisher box that suna had put up instead of a flower box, which omi had accidentally mistaken for the extinguisher box? it was convoluted to even think about, and way too coincidental.

but she couldn’t bring it up now, that was months ago and it’d be wrong of her to try and coax the truth out of him when he was obviously drunk, no matter how much he tried to deny it. she almost jumps when her phone lights up again and starts buzzing, her ringtone playing through her headphones as she stares at the screen for a second.

she’s going to answer, of course, but she almost wishes she had said no to calling. she’s not sure what they’ll talk about tonight or what he’ll remember in the morning. she’s not sure if she should bring up anything he’s said so far ever again in case it affects their relationship.

she’d be heartbroken if he blamed whatever he said tonight on being drunk (in contrast to how insistent he was currently being that he would say these things if he wasn't intoxicated), but she’d also feel equally as nauseous if they never talked about this night again.

she blinks rapidly, feeling tears well up in her eyes. ‘what was she crying for?’ perhaps she's realized that they've both already gone too far. when they woke up in the morning, things wouldn’t be the same anymore. one look at their texts and he would read that she had stupidly admitted to having tweeted about him before, and she would have no excuse for her actions. 

she needed to answer the phone.

she wiped her arms with her sleeve, taking a deep breath for answering. 

“hi,” she speaks softly, starting their conversation off as she always does.

“hi,” he says back like he always does, although tonight his voice is a little breathy.

she starts to play with the edge of her sheets, unsure of what to do with herself, “are we calling to talk about something in particular?”

she can hear him shift around in his own bed before he gives her a noise of disagreement, “no... i guess you were right, i really just want to sleep but i like falling asleep on call with you. ‘makes me feel like i’m there with you.”

she almost turns on her phone to hit the mute button as she chokes back a noise of surprise, face turning red. she’s paralyzed in her bed, mind trying to formulate a response. “oh. i like being on the phone with you too,” she immediately slaps her head at her own lame reply. she was trying to convince herself that he just likes her presence. all friends like each other’s presence. he didn’t mean anything more. “you’re sleeping on your side, right?”

he hums out a small noise of agreement, probably already half asleep, and the thought makes her smile. “okay, well then goodnight, suna. i’ll see you tomorrow when you get back.” she turns onto her own side, eyes closing as she tries to calm herself down.

his voice makes her eyes snap open again, “call me rin.”

she’s at a loss for words. is he asking her to say it or just reminding her?

“you keep switching between ‘suna’ and ‘rin,’” he mumbles slowly, words slurring together. at least she knows he’s definitely drunk. “i know you said i wasn’t pressuring you to call me it, but the way you never remember on your own makes me think you don’t want to call me it.”

“no i–” she has to take a shaky breath as quietly as possible. “i want to. i promise. it just feels so personal. like i still can’t believe you want me to call you it. and i don’t know— sometimes you get a look on your face when i call you it so i thought maybe you didn’t like it and wanted to change your mind.”

he lets out a laugh and she ends up kicking off her blanket, suddenly too hot to be under any cover. “you’re funny. and horrible at overthinking, you know that?” she tries her best not to cry out of embarrassment.

“i just make that face because it surprises me. i’m not used to it yet but i want to be. i like when you call me rin. i like it a lot.” she almost feels dizzy, hearing his voice come in through her headphones.

she tries to rationalize with herself: he’s drunk. he’s going to say things that he doesn’t mean. “you’re drunk, suna,” she forces herself to say, “i’m not gonna listen to anything you say right now.”

“call me rin,” he repeats again, almost sounding like he’s begging her. her heart is racing, and she can’t even bring herself to say no to him again. “call me rin, please. i’ll tell you it’s okay again in the morning. i swear.”

she’s staring straight ahead at her wall now, not even sure if she’s breathing. finally, she takes a deep breath, exhaling as she responds, “okay, fine.” she feels a little stupid doing it, but she turns onto her other side, facing her phone as if he’s there with her. ��goodnight, rin. see you tomorrow.”

she can almost feel the smile in his voice as he responds, but she can’t see it. see that he really is smiling, and he’s turned onto his side, facing his phone as well, “goodnight, y/n.”

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

MANEATER REFERENCE RAHHH AND INKED AND MBB THEY'RE LITERALLY PART OF THE UNIVERSE NOW IDK WHAT YOU EXPECTED

thank you to mo for being like my biggest supporter ever <3 @guitarstringed-scars

maneater y/n kicked ass and played banger after banger like she does every night

everyone got absolutely wasted (except for omi who dragged them all home, bless his heart LMAO)

suna got drunk for like three reasons, 1. he didn't want to think 2. he thought maybe everyone would leave him alone 3. in case he did feel like making bad decisions at least being intoxicated would keep him from chickening out

AND ALSO I HATE WRITING DRUNK PEOPLE IT FEELS SO WEIRD SO I DON'T EVEN TRY I'M SORRY. LIKE I MADE ONE ACTUAL TYPO IN SUNA'S TEXT ABOUT BEING A GOOD TEXTER AND WAS LIKE "okay yeah whatever" BUT I'M SORRY JUST KNOW I WASN'T TRYING

RAHHH DOUBLE UPDATE BC I CAN'T HELP MYSELF WHAT IS GOING ON

suna was simultaneously so out of it during their texts and so locked in like he just said whatever came to mind and then y/n would question him and he'd be like "hold on what"

random plug but i am also planning a band au smau and eggy wyr and i have created an entire playlist u should check out and try and guess who it's about

taglist: @0moonii @iluvmang @bluebeanbee @wyrcan @oyasumeii @froyaoya @gyuijns @nbcvs @milkteade @eggyrocks @makkir0ll @mylahrins @cherrypieyourface @vivian-555 @sharkerino @r0seandth0rns @staileykout @lunavixia @thvvluvr @elliott0o0 @wolffmaiden @rockleeisbaeeee @toges-cough-syrup @cnnmairoll @ryeyeyer @hibernatinghamster @localgaytrainwreck @lemonocity @bows4life @sereniteav @madiexuberant @eclecticeggknightpsychic @phoenix-eclipses @sonicsolos @httpakkeiji @brkfclub @snail-squasher @starry-magicshop @cr4yolaas @kitnootkat @zzzlevislothzzz @iluv-ace @iluvaquaphor @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @applepi25 @twiishaa @girlkissersco @sleepystrwbrryy @encrypta

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Scenarios

I made these two parts because I love all the Hazbin boys, and I am a sucker for this trope. I didn't add pentious because I am not confident writing for him. Val is well, Val. Pt1 Pt2

Husk

Alastor had asked you to accompany Husk to his old casino to see how things were running. You knew it was to punish Husk for something he did or said, but at least you got to be there with him. Husk groaned for the eighth time since you two had left. You could tell he was angry about this arrangement. "You can talk to me, Husk, if you want. Normally you do all the listening, it can be my turn if it will help."

He sighed and grumbled; you nodded and kept pace with him. The old casino was in sight. It still looked like it did in the glory days when you were Husk's soul, not Alastor's. "Well, at least the bastard can keep it looking nice, fucking tormenting me with this shit,"

When you two entered the casino, you were treated by another of Alastors' demons and escorted to the one in charge. Husk was speaking about the logistics while you looked around. Hours had passed, and you were growing tired. You were never good with money and business, and the buzzing and noise of the casino slowly drowned out as you sat at a machine and took a nap.

When Husk wakes you, the Casino is in full swing. A sinner is mad you are taking up a spot. Standing quickly, you move over and stand with Husk. "What is going on?"

"Fucking Al wants the impossible done, is what? We are gonna be stuck here for the night. I couldn't make the numbers work before the casino got busy; they are getting us a room now." He seemed so anxious and mad. You gently grabbed one of his claws, offering a soft squeeze.

"You don't want to play at all?" You were concerned he usually wouldn't give up the chance.

A soft laugh escapes him as he looks at you. He looks very gentle. "Doll, what do you think I was doing to get the numbers up?" You make a silent 'o' and follow him as a new sinner escorts you to the hotel side of the casino. As you ride the elevator up, you look down on all the gambling sinners. That used to be you a long time ago; that used to be Husk.

Once you were left at your door, Husk entered, a gruff thanks coming from him. You kept walking when you slammed your face into a wall of fur. "Husk, what is wrong?" You peeked over and saw it was a miniature replica of Husk's old room, with only one bed for two. "Oh, I see now."

"Fuck this. I will just sleep on the floor," He began to get comfy by the side of the bed. You scoffed and looked at him worriedly, "Husk, no, you will not. Get up and in the bed. We can make this work." He looked flushed for a moment but groaned, knowing that you would move him—you had done it before. He slammed his body on the bed. You sighed and opened the bathroom door. "I am going to shower. You have fur, so you don't need the covers, so they will separate us. All good."

You entered the bathroom, and while you were gone, Husk had a dilemma. He knew the sheets would separate you, but that's what he didn't want; he wanted to feel you and hold you close. Sighing he laid on his back, you soon joined him and climbed in to bed. Some quick goodnight led to the lights off and sleep.

The problem you ran into was it was cold; you could hear Husk's light breathing, and as long as you moved by morning, you could save your dignity and crush on the cat. Gently, you wrapped the blankets from under Husk around him. You scooted closer, nuzzling his fur, and drifted off to sleep.

Come morning, Husk had found you, and he was happy even in this torment Alastor held him in. Slowly, Husk wrapped you in his arms and pulled you on top of him. He caressed your hair and face softly until he, too, went back to sleep. You eventually got up, but till that moment when you did, you two just lay there enjoying the warmth.

Lucifer

You were one of the first sinners to join hell; you watched Lilith and Lucifer's relationship. You had seen pentagram city become a city, you even watched as the other Sins became just that sins. Yet you remained strong, one of the trusted, the exulted. You loved Lucifer more than words could describe. How could you not? You had been there for it all. Yet Lilith was all he could care about; you were his closest friend.

When Lilith left, things were hard. You and Lucifer shared a bed often, and you held him close, comforting him. It never meant more to you than just being a good friend and helping him feel better. You spent countless nights being the best friend you could be and a makeshift mom for Charlie.

When Charlie's hotel opened seven years later, you had given up hope that Lucifer would get over Lilith. So you packed your things and moved to the Hazbin Hotel to help Charlie. You didn't know Lucifer was over Lilith year three or four; he purposefully kept being sad, so you stayed around. That's why when Charlie invited him to the hotel, he jumped at the chance to be by your side again.

There was one problem: while working on building the new hotel, only a few rooms were set up, leaving you and Lucifer to share a room once more. You had noticed his change in mood, and he was a lot more flirty, yet you didn't want to get your hopes up that Lilith was off his mind. You just played back with him, not realizing that come nightfall, you would be alone with him, with one bed—nothing you hadn't done before, right?

"Uh, if you are uncomfortable, I can sleep elsewhere. Otherwise, the castle is still active." He looked so concerned and nervous. Could he feel how you were feeling?

"Uh, no, no, it's fine. We have done this before, right Luci? It's okay." You felt your face warm up in this confined space, and the tension was too much. Like old times, you gently crawled into bed, opening your arms for him.

His eyes widened, and he smiled, crashing into you and rubbing his face in your chest. "I have missed this. Months without being able to do this is far too long."

You blushed brightly and combed his hair. "Months, Luci, what do you mean? Lilith has been gone for years."

He yawned and nuzzled closer, helping you lay down. "No, I meant what I said; I missed you," he looked up at you through his eyelashes. "It has always been you."

You gasped and smiled, tears welling in your eyes. You two wrapped up warm and snuggled in the bed. You both slept the best you had in millennia. Come morning, the whole hotel staff took pictures of how adorable the King of Hell looked while you were holding him.

Vox

You were Vox's best assistant. By best, he meant the only one he couldn't flirt with or hit on because he had one too many dreams about you. More specifically, there are one too many domestic cute dreams. You were his best assistant because he couldn't get mad at you or hate you like he did the others. Damn, did he love seeing you walk around also? He was smitten, and you were good at your job, which made him hopelessly in love.

You weren't too far off yourself. Vox had your heart the moment he helped you pick up all your stuff in the hall at work. He had yet to learn who you were, some lowly intern for Velvette, and he helped you. From that day on, you worked hard to become his personal assistant, hoping to make him see you how you saw him.

Today was a busy day for the Vees. You had gotten Velvette and Val to their designated locations, and now you needed to get Vox to his. Just as the company limo broke down. You sighed and told Vox to wait as you got out and looked at the busted engine. You sighed, calling the mechanics to come pick it up. You looked all over the part of the city you were in and sighed. It will be hard to get a hotel, but not impossible.

You searched the internet, and Vox inevitably came out to lean on the car and keep you company. He wasn't mad at all; ironically, he didn't get much time with you alone. This was nice, almost domestic if you think about it. However, your loud 'aha' ruined the moment. "I found one, Vox!" The way your eyes lit up made him warm. He wanted to make your eyes do that always.

"Find what, kid?" He kept his same gruff, sarcastic voice; he didn't want to risk you finding him out. You just shook your head and started walking; when he didn't join you, a sigh left your lips as you grabbed his hand and dragged him along.

Two blocks down, there was a hotel with a bed left. "Here we are, alright. Here is all your information; you will have access to all amenities. I hope you sleep and rest well, sir." He looked at you, confused. Were you not going with him?

"Uh, are you not coming with me?" He let his guard down a little. He knew this side of town was near the radio demon, and he was worried.

"Oh no, there is only one bed. I will just sleep in the limo!" You were so excited and proud even of your plan. Yet that was halted as he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder.

"Yeah, that's a hard no kid." He walked you into the hotel, keeping your bottom half covered with his suit jacket. Once he had the key, he went up to the room and set you down. Looking around, it was beautiful; it matched his blue well. There was only one bed, though, like you said.

"Vox, really, it will be okay. I was from this side of town before I started working for you guys. I will be okay." You pleaded, not wanting him to know about your silly crush. He just shrugged and locked the door, going to the bathroom to freshen up. You sighed and sat on the bed, kicking your legs and looking around. Vox came back shirtless and cleaned up.

"Your turn." He noticed the blush on your cheeks and puffed out his chest. Smiling, he took his place on the bed, laying back. You went into the bathroom to clean up. Luckily, you keep a spare pair of shorts and a tank top in your bag for emergencies. Changing, you went to the room, seeing Vox spread out.

"Where exactly do I sleep?" He snorted and patted the spot next to him. Slowly, you made your way over, crawling in. Vox sighed and pulled you into him. Your hand rested on his chest, and your head landed on his shoulder.

"Look, I will cut to the chase, kid. I like you, no, I love you. I have been having these dreams about you, not even sexual ones. I want all this domestic shit like cuddling with you." You blushed and smiled, nodding along. Gently, you repositioned you to be comfy against him and you two fell asleep.

In the morning, hours had passed, the limo had been picked up, and you two had ignored all calls from the other two Vees. Vox will deal with it later, just like how he will deal with you losing the title of assistant so he can finally make you his partner.

[itzmaztercom]

⛓⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆⌞ ⌝⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⛓

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⌞fanfiction⌝ :

note : fanfictions based on humanoid album and city,so apocalypse and robotic humanoid taking over the world,mostly Georg and Tom but still might have bit of romance so if you dislike torg or bl stay kind,thank for reading that first before you'll get into the story. And by the way my english pretty bad so please be kind for all the mistake 🖤

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⛓⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆⌞The shine for us⌝⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⛓

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Darkside Of The Sun

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💭 .𖥔 ݁ ˖The sun explode making only the darkside of it return to the surface and it where all the panic and chaos start,or end where all of this sign the end is near..The sunlight was still slightly present but since the humanoids arrived and destroyed the city, everything changed, the world was plunged into a yellowish universe while the sun was getting on their darkside giving little to full blow of light making it hard to see in such a gloom of dust, the last ray of light illuminating every detail of the city now in completely ruins and destruction as the buildings and structures are crushed against the ground, blood on the tar everywhere,The last remaining hysterical radios in the city resonate in some places broadcasting messages of panic giving orders in row since days,It seemed so long ago when it had only just begun, the future now was the present that each of us had always dreaded

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Georg slowly opened his eyes, he blinked a few times trying to adjust his perspective to the new theme of the city,he sit up straight against one of the last wall standing here,he sigh softly as he rub his head as he feel a headache coming,he groan before he look around,He must have fallen asleep yesterday in hiding after hearing another one of theses infamous humanoid noises,Since the sun exploded and those human-looking robots took power the city was submerged in fear like everybody in the world,he removed the remaining dust from his t-shirt before he turn to look at his lap as he feel a heavy warm on it,his eyes drift to Tom sleeping form,It's been a few days since the dreadhead was able to have a moment of peaceful rest with everything happening,Georg smirk softly as he put his jacket over the other before he gently start caressing Tom's cornrow, georg lean in and grip Tom's shoulder as he shake it while he whisper in a throaty voice "Hey.. Tom,wake up...The sun has been up for a while, we should keep moving and find somewhere safer than sleeping on the ground.." Tom open his eyes as he peek a glance at Georg soft features as he mumble a few incomprehensible words under his breath making Georg chuckle before he grip Tom's hips and help him get up ,Georg grab their bags and start walking forward with Tom behind trying to hurried with his baggy clothes..not the best choice of pants if you need to run

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As they walk though the cities It was completely empty, the only noise we could hear was the stray animals or the machines and mechanics of the humanoids in the distance,there was blood and metal pieces scattered on the ground, windows of house and building completly shattered, now it has been a few hours as they start to ran away from the place they sleep that night,it had been days that they ran together trying to escape the humanoids,They were both tired and hungry but they knew somehow that it was better to keep walking trying to find a safe place. They had corpses on the ground of people who had been dead for several days now and who were decomposing. Every time Georg passed by them always searched to find out if they had resources,and most of the time he was lucky too found something like cereal bars or ammunition for weapons,As Georg search in a bag next to a corpses he heard Tom's whines and he immediately turn around to know what wrong with the dreadhead "something wrong, Tom ?It's been almost 20 minutes now don't stop complaining" Tom look at him as he bite his lip before he admitted in a brittle way "i'm fine..it just i'm so hungry and my feet hurt so bad..Can't we at least take a little break?" Georg glare at Tom for a few moment before he sigh and shake he head,he stand up and walk closer to Tom,he softly offered "Ok fine but before let found a little isolated and shady place, I found a food ration and i still have water in my bottle,We'll try to go to a store and get some food,water and basic stuff" Tom wipe his tear with the back of his hand and nod as he stare following Georg to a better and secured place ,After a few minutes they sit down In the shade of a more well insulated building, Georg sighed and took out some food like cereal bars, chips, sandwiches that he had collected from the corpses and gave them to Tom...he admire Tom gobble up food and he accidentally murmur a bit too look "Cute.." Tom immediately snap his head at Georg direction as he giggled "what did you say?" Georg cheeks turn a slight shade of pink and shake his head "Oh nothing,I just saw a squirrel passing by?—" Tom just shrug as he focus back on eating,he hand him a package of chips as he notice Georg wasn't eating,he smirk at him "eat a bit,you would need it,we gonna have to walk for hours so take strength" Georg examine Tom's expression before he grab the package and start chewing some.. Tom discretly scott closer to Georg before he lean his head down on the brunette's shoulder..he take a deep breath before he mumble "Georg..? Do you think one day all of this would be over? It embarassing but if i was honest with you right now i'm so scared... And DON'T even dare to make fun of me right now,i'm not in the mood" Georg eyes widened as he glare at Tom in awe,it was the first time he ever see the dreadhead being vulnerable, especially around him,but he was pretty pleased with the fact Tom was enough comfortable with him to snuggle to him and share that,he smile as he pull his hand around Tom's shoulder and pull him closer "Gosh..you freezing,man,but yeah,i wish too, Tom,but i promise you right now that i'll never let you down and i'll do everything to protect you,i promise,Tom." He slide his hands over Tom's hands and he start caressing his hands to warmth them ,the brunette and the dreadhead stay here for 15min snuggling with eachother before they suddenly heard robotic noise nearby..Georg immediately rush his stuff back in his bag as he stand up and grab Tom's wrist as they start to walk away,as Georg turn around to make sure Tom following he suddenly see one of the colossal humanoid form peeking from a building , the humanoid body twist as he notice them,the humanoid start marching toward them

..Georg get immeditatly alarmed and start to run away,as he turn back he notice how the dreadhead was terrified he shoot "TOM ?! RUN DAMNIT !!" Tom try to race behind Georg but his jeans making the mouvement pretty hard, he cried out in a croaky voice "I..I'M TRYING..BUT I CAN'T...,!" Georg had to think fast but before he could he slow down and when Tom arrive at his level he clasped the dreadhead's thighs and threw him over his shoulder as he sprint, his hands over Tom's thighs to secure him, he heard Tom's whines as he cling to Georg and dig his nails into the fabric of his jacket..georg slide one hand over the dreadhead as he feel him burried his face deep in his back as he run as fast as he could, lucky the humanoid we're pretty slowly,Georg groan as he continue to carry Tom "gosh..you so fucking heavy,just remove your fucking pants,there not time to be fashionable" Tom face turn red as Georg try to remove his jeans..he grip the hem of his jeans before he bawl out "WHAT ?! i dont care i'm not staying in fucking underwear! That to dangerous!? It super cold and there is debris everywhere" Georg glare at Tom and sigh after all he was right and he would look silly if he didn't had any pants,Georg continue to raced as he finally found a place to hide from the humanoid without getting notice, Tom mourned "You can put me down you know?You don't need to grab my thighs like that..." Georg blush slightly as he he loose his grip on Tom's thighs and slide him softly on the floor,as they both out of breath they sit down on the floor taking deep breath, Tom bawl out "dude..we almost fucking die—" but before he could finish Georg suddenly interrupted him,and he grip his hand in his "Tom..look at me" the dreadhead stared look at the brunette a bit confuse waiting for him to go ,Georg take a deep breath "Look,dude..We're almost dead so I'd like to tell you something in case we really do die,Tom.. I've been watching you for years and I admire you even on stage, the way you play or the way you flip your dreads,you light up my world,you dont know you beautiful...all i want is to be with you,i'll treat you better that anyone could be ever and i'll promise you that,i'll get on my knees,carry you bridal way, buy your flowers and everything you want" Tom glare at the brunette as his eyes widened with digust,he pull away as he step back and trip over- he catch himself on the wall as he clench his hands over his mouth as he shout "Dude what the hell?! That so fucking.. disgusting..i can't believe that the guy I know since like almost 8y is a fucking faggot! You a fucking creep man,i can't believe i dressed infront of you and you get boner from watching me..you so fucking disgusting.." Georg look at Tom..his heart shattered in his chest,No would already be harsh but THAT was.He contemplated Tom's features examing his expression anxiously but before he could say anything Tom suddenly runaway and he scream "You disgust me, man! I..I just want my brother back ..i NEED to see bill.." georg stare at Tom compeltly terrified as he yell back "TOM ?! PLEASE DON'T LEAVE...I'M SORRY..!! IT TOO DANGEROUS OUT HERE WITH ALL THOSE HUMANOID AROUND,LISTEN TO ME!" as he try to follow Tom he already leave far away and he nowhere to be see, Georg just fall over his knee as he lean against the wall sobbing his eyes out...

To be continued..(no)

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Ok sooo uhmm it me again,lolz,i hope y'all like it :3 and told me your opinion if u like it, cuz if y'all REALLY like it imma do chapter 2,ngl i kinda wanna post it on Wattpad but idk,here it is like promise👅👄

Anyway dont forget to reblog 👅👄 so it get more view and i become famous duh

@lucysabitweird @dolly4stxr @scrappyboy2 @billsbabydollie mention for my pookie..ik it shit but bear with me i needed torg fanfiction

Tell me if u wanna get tagged in part 2

[tokusho]

The boys take care of you after a rough mission leaving you in the hospital🏥

CW: Mentions of broken bones

GN!Reader x TF141

After a mission gone wrong you were left in the bases hospital battered and bruised. The bones in your finger were crushed and your reward is a stiff itchy bandage. The lights above your bed buzz like swarming flies waiting for the opportunity to eat you alive. Constant beeping and buzzing fill your ears as you lay in a small sterile room unable to leave.

Your eyes grow fuzzy as everything becomes too much, everything feels so overwhelming. You want to leave, to run to the nearest exit and be with your team again. Muscles tense as you attempt to sit up but they buckle, you land back on the bed with a thud.

Right ad you were about to lose hope the door to your room swings open. John, Johnny, Kyle, and Simon have there arms filled with different things that they know will make you feel better.

“Can’t ‘ave our mate suffer ‘ere alone, gotcha some sweets”

Kyle chuckles elbowing Johnny in the ribs.

“You’re gonna rot her teeth Johnny, I actually brought something useful.”

You lift your head wondering what he has only to see your bed sheets from your bunk. He gently takes off the uncomfortable bedding and drapes the sheets onto your sore body. Immediately you relax feeling much more comfortable than before.

Johnny sets the candy onto the table next to your bed not without snatching one for himself pocketing it.

“The doctors been treating you good?”, Simon asks while leaning against the wall.

He holds his mask in one hand, his sandy blonde hair a mess and the eye black still smeared on his face. Despite that his eyes hold a softness to them genuinely worried about your well being.

“Yeah they’ve been treating me good. Nice to see you again Simon”

He hums in approval happy to hear your ok, its always a pleasure to see him without the mask. In your heart you know that he’ll only shed the mask for those he trusts. Its been a while since he’s been unmasked so seeing him without it makes this moment feel special.

John walks up to the machines with his hands on his hips looking at them for a moment before looking at you.

“Is the sound botherin’ you because I know for sure they are bothering me”

“I mean yeah I guess but you can’t just shut them off”

He doesn’t hesitate before going to the side of the machine turning off the constant beeping and noise.

“You can’t just do that they need to be on for stuff”

John turns to you with a smile and crinkle on the sides of his eyes. The beard he has only making his smile feel even more warm than before.

“Darlin’ we are constantly breaking the rules for what is right. Right now we’re taking care of one our own, you already know we’d break every rule in the book for that”

You just shake your head with a smile on your face knowing that theres no point in arguing with him. A yawn escapes your mouth and your eyes start feeling heavy finally feeling at peace. You fight it wanting to spend more time with your team.

A hand is placed on your shoulder, slowly you look up to see Simons face. His thumb caresses your shoulder softly.

“Rest up soldier, we’ll be here when you wake up”

With that you finally let yourself rest and drift off to sleep knowing your team is here for you.