#there’s stuff there i think. can’t wait to see what he’s up to

[tswkento]

sometimes you say and do stuff that makes gojo’s brain short circuit because of how cute you are. for example:

he could be complimenting your look for the date he had planned out and you’d smile bashfully, murmuring, “wanted to look nice for you, toru” and he is gone, literally barely keeping himself from smothering you in a hug.

or like the day you did his laundry for the first time; he found you folding his clothes in the bedroom — not just clothes, no, clean and ironed clothes(he wasn’t even sure if he had an iron at home) — he glanced back at the bathroom suspiciously, where a full basket of dirty stuff was supposed to be, and then at you with a curious question of, “hey, just asking, did you do my laundry, sweetheart?”

you stopped folding and looked up at him unsurely, your eyes wide with weariness, “do you think i shouldn’t have?” and gojo is on his way to tackle you down onto the bed and pepper your face with kisses because what the hell.

your fingers always find their way into his tresses whenever satoru lays his head on your lap and when you see his thoroughly pleased expression you always let out that specific kind of giggle, looking down at him so lovingly that satoru’s heart might just explode from how happy he feels. it’s crazy how you don’t even realise it.

or when you’re changing clothes and satoru passes by, gaze catching your figure through the small gap between the wall and the door to your shared bedroom, and he pokes his head through it to smirk at you, waiting for you to register his presence. and when you do, with a surprised squeak and an embarrassed chuckle following it, you try to make him leave with a weak whine, “toru! leave, i’m changing!”

satoru can’t help his own chuckles, “i saw you naked last night, baby!” you only hug your clothes to your body and jump closer to push his head away and shut the door. gojo catches the red dusting your cheeks and feels his heart skip a beat before relenting to the pressure of the closed door and leaning against it with a hand on his heart.

subtle things you do also make him want to kiss you senseless, like when he wraps his arms around you from the back and you always put one of your hands on top of his, fingers weaving between his. or when you plant a fleeting kiss on his cheek before you run off because you are late for something. or when you fix his clothes for him — fuck, you don’t know what you do to him.

you make him act a lovesick fool, unaware of the heart eyes he gazes at you with 24/7, and satoru’s more than okay with it.

[affableramen]

no nut november. when they try to unnoticeably watch you undress

ᡣ𐭩 mature themes, spicy but not smutty, pre-relationship

ᡣ𐭩 neuvillette, pantalone x fem!reader

Neuvillette

“Here, I wholeheartedly hope you’ll find them to your liking. I’m deeply sorry the rain soaked you, you must have least expected that.”

“It’s alright, though I’m soaked to the bone, I have monsieur Neuvillette taking care of me”, you smile widely at him as he hands you the bag full of clothes. The sovereign dragon had no problem flying to the nearest mall and buying you new clothes in order to replace your soaking ones. You can’t fly, but he doesn’t want you to catch cold right in front of his eyes.

You opened the bag and took a look at the clothes. They were really fancy ones, and Neuvillette’s sharp intuition guided him into the right size.

“Wow, monsieur Neuvillette they are all my size. They should all fit.”

“I’m extremely glad in that case”, he clears his throat. “I will leave you to change. I’ll wait in the vestibule.

“Of course.”

He reached the exit and closed the door behind him but a really thin hole could give a quick peek to someone who was in the room. Neuvillette was above taking that chance and did not plan on witnessing you get rid of your soaked layers of clothes—he’s already probably seen too much, given how your white tight shirt would stick to your cleavage.

He sighed. Perhaps you already started undressing. These nasty thoughts wouldn’t come off from his head and would not leave him alone. Neuvillette entirely missed the moment when he started thinking dirty of you. All this sexual stuff was so new and unlike him. But knowing that you were soaked and changing in his office made him experience the most obscene thoughts lingering on the bottom of his mind.

“Please tell me once you’re finished”, he cleared his throat. “Unfortunately we’re so busy today I cannot give you more time than I would prefer.”

“I understand”, your voice sounds louder, you must be heading right to the door. “I finished, monsieur, and I thank you so much for getting me those.”

Once you open the door you’re met with an incredibly perplexed and almost embarrassed stare.

“Do leave me a receipt, I shall cover them all.”

“Nonsense. It was a gift.”

“I’m afraid I cannot accept gifts from my employer.”

“Please do, after all I’m partially the reason you’re caught up in the rain; had I not asked you on your day off you would not have gotten targeted by unappealing weather conditions.”

“You’re too kind to me, monsieur.”

You go back to your cubicle not realising how deeply Neuvillette experienced desire to see more of you—a single more inch of your delicate skin.

Pantalone

“Here, this should be your size. You agree how this one is less tight and more comfy than your original outfit, don’t you?” Pantalone gives you a sweet smile, his eyes shut when he does so, and his long black eyelashes stand out proudly on his face.

“This should do. If I knew we had a training today, I wouldn’t wear my formal dress at the first place.”

You take the neatly wrapped training sport suit from his indigo-gloved hands and give it a quick quality check.

“This one is really well made. I truly like it.”

“Did you doubt our private tailors?”

“Not one bit, Regrator”, you turn away from him, facing the window, your skin glowing lit and bright in the face of Pantalone’s dark figure.

“Your formal tight-fit dress deserves a reward, sweetie, but you might have difficulties fighting in it.”

“I have no problem wearing the outfit you provided me with”, you say as you start quickly changing. Regrator’s interest is picked when he hears the ruffling of clothes. His ears perk up to each sound coming from you, but he stays turned away, with his back facing you.

“I’m glad if so.”

Just when what seems to be heavy fabric sound dropping onto the floor grabbing Pantalone’s attention, he swallows a heavy feeling in his throat. He knows what part of you is presumably naked right now and fight the urge to not peek. He is a gentleman, not a dog in heat.

But when you unclasp your bra to put the sport top on, Pantalone’s head slowly turns to your side. He takes a very subtle, quick look of the curve of your shoulder and arm. Your back muscles fascinate him. Afraid that you might notice him—what are you going to think?—he immediately looks away and forces a fake polite smile as usual.

“Well, how long am I going to wait? Tick-tock, my dear.”

“Have you never undressed a woman before? Surely you know it’s difficult to be quick.”

“Oh…”

The later process is surrounded by utter silence. Upon you finishing, Pantalone who has been dying every second while you were changing, says at last:

“Not bad.”

“Think so too.” You aim to the exit, but he grabs your shoulder. You’re suddenly stopped, but he immediately softens his touch and loosens his grip, his hand rubbing your shoulder as if giving you a massage. The gesture feels somehow encouraging and intimate at the same moment.

“Be careful, alright? I fancy seeing your body back in one piece.”

[solxamber]

1800-Curse-Control || Lilia Vanrouge

You decide to open a hotline for curing curses with Lilia. It goes exactly how you imagined it would—maybe even a little better.

“Lilia,” you said, rubbing your temples as you leaned against the counter in Ramshackle’s disaster of a kitchen. “Grim’s eating me out of house and home, literally. If I can’t afford the repairs soon, the roof will cave in. But all he cares about is premium tuna! Do you know how much that stuff costs?”

Lilia, who was casually floating upside down for no apparent reason, looked entirely too entertained. “Ah, the plight of a homeowner,” he said, grinning. “Why not turn your misfortune into opportunity? I’ve been told I have exceptional customer service skills, and I’ve been dreadfully bored. Let’s open a hotline for removing curses!”

You blinked at him. “A hotline. For curing curses.”

“Yes, my dear beastie,” he said, flipping upright midair and landing gracefully. “Think about it! This school is crawling with fools who drink unlabeled potions, poke magical artifacts, and anger vengeful spirits just for sport. You’d be rich in a week!”

“…I hate how much sense that actually makes.”

“It’s a foolproof plan,” Lilia continued, already pulling a notepad from somewhere to scribble down ideas. “I’ll handle the exorcisms and the cackling, naturally. You, my dear entrepreneur, can be the charming face of the operation. We’ll call it—hmm—‘Curse-B-Gone.’”

“Absolutely not.”

“Fine, ‘Hex Hotline.’”

You considered it. On one hand, it sounded completely ridiculous. On the other hand, there was that third-year who accidentally swapped his voice with a frog’s last week and the freshmen who kept mysteriously sprouting feathers.

“…How much are we charging?”

“Ah-ha! I knew you’d come around!” Lilia said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s see, we’ll need tiers. Minor hex removal? Hundred thaumarks. Major curses—hair-growing hexes, spontaneous transformation curses—those will start at Five Hundred.”

“And what about something, like, really bad? What if someone’s whole body turns into a pumpkin or something?”

“That’s a premium package. One thousand thaumarks.”

You nodded slowly. “Okay. Okay, I’m in. But if this flops, you’re buying Grim’s tuna for the next month.”

Lilia smirked, his fangs glinting mischievously. “Deal.”

By the end of the day, you’d set up a magical hotline using some weird orb Lilia “borrowed” from the library, a vaguely threatening poster campaign across the campus (“Cursed? Hexed? A jackal-headed god show up at your dorm? Call us!”), and a suspiciously well-stocked supply of anti-curse materials Lilia claimed were “leftovers” from his youth.

You weren’t sure whether to feel excited or like you’d just signed up for the most bizarre mistake of your life. Either way, you couldn’t wait to see how this would go down.

The orb hotline rang for the first time, glowing ominously on the rickety desk in Ramshackle. You and Lilia exchanged glances.

“Answer it!” he whispered, like this was some spy mission and not a cursed customer service line.

With a deep breath, you picked it up. “Uh… Hello, this is the Cursed and Confused Hotline. How can we—”

“YOU HAVE TO HELP ME!” Ace’s voice screamed on the other end. “HE’S GOING TO KILL ME THIS TIME!”

You winced, holding the orb away from your ear. “Ace? What happened?”

“I DON’T KNOW! I WAS JUST TRYING TO MAKE TEA!”

“Okay, and?”

“And I might’ve…accidentally used that weird sugar in the Heartslabyul pantry, the one that glows in the dark? And now Riddle’s head is covered in, like…peonies. Big, pink peonies. They keep growing whenever he gets mad, which, uh, is always.”

You slapped your forehead. “You cursed your housewarden?!”

“I DIDN’T MEAN TO!” Ace wailed. “I thought it was sugar, not cursed fertilizer! Look, can you just fix this before he declares ‘off with my head’ for real?”

“Ugh, fine. Where are you now?”

“Hiding in the rose bushes. He hasn’t found me yet, but I think I heard him sharpening a guillotine.”

“Classic Heartslabyul,” Lilia said cheerfully, already packing his so-called emergency kit.

When you and Lilia arrived at Heartslabyul, it was pure chaos. Riddle stood in the center of the garden, his face as red as his hair—and also half-obscured by an explosion of giant pink peonies blooming out of his head like some cursed bouquet.

“TREY!” Riddle bellowed. “GET THE GARDEN SHEARS!”

Ace was crouched in a rose bush nearby, whispering frantically. “Please tell me you brought an anti-cursed-flower spray or something!”

You ignored him and approached Riddle cautiously. “Uh, Riddle? You’ve got—”

“I KNOW WHAT I HAVE!” Riddle shrieked, a few more flowers blooming on his head. “I demand immediate remedy! Or else—”

“We’ll fix it,” Lilia cut in, grinning like this was the most fun he’d had in centuries. “Now, let’s see…” He pulled a vial of glowing liquid from his kit. “This should do the trick.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, eyeing the suspiciously fizzing vial.

“Of course not,” Lilia said, popping it open.

He dumped the liquid over Riddle’s head without warning. The flowers immediately shriveled up and disappeared.

Riddle blinked, touching his head in astonishment. “…It’s gone?”

“You’re welcome,” Lilia said with a dramatic bow.

Ace peeked out from the bushes. “So…he’s not mad anymore, right?”

Riddle’s death glare answered that question.

“RUN!” you yelled, dragging Ace out of the garden as Riddle shouted about punishment for “sugar crimes.”

Back at Ramshackle, you slumped against the desk. “We’re never doing house calls again.”

Lilia just laughed. “Oh, but the drama! I live for it!”

The hotline orb began glowing again, pulsing with a foreboding, bluish light.

You groaned. “If this is Ace again, I swear—”

Lilia waved his hand. “Come now, it’s probably another entertaining disaster! Answer it!”

You reluctantly picked up. “Cursed and Confused Hotline. What’s your—”

“FIX. THIS. NOW!” came Azul’s shrill, panicked voice.

You blinked. “Azul? What’s—”

“I CAN’T EVEN DESCRIBE WHAT HE’S DONE THIS TIME!”

“Oh, come on, Azul!” Floyd’s voice cut in, cackling in the background. “It’s a masterpiece!”

“Masterpiece?” Azul screeched. “You flooded the dining room and filled it with—WHY ARE THERE EELS IN THE SOUP POTS?”

“Because it’s hilarious!” Floyd howled, clearly having the time of his life.

Jade’s calm voice joined in, oozing politeness as always. “To be fair, Floyd has a point. The eels are thriving in there.”

Azul sputtered like a broken faucet. “THRIVING?! THEY’RE STEALING PEOPLE’S FOOD!”

“Sounds efficient to me,” Floyd said. You could practically hear him smirking. “Dinner and a show!”

Lilia perked up. “Eels in soup pots? How creative!”

“Don’t encourage him!” Azul barked. “Do you know how much it costs to repair the water damage he’s caused? The walls are dripping! The chandelier is dripping! I AM DRIPPING!”

“That’s not cursed,” you said, trying to hide your amusement. “That’s just Floyd being—well, Floyd.”

“Oh, no, it’s cursed,” Azul hissed. “Every time I try to remove the eels, the water level rises. They’re like aquatic squatters! Fix it or I swear I’ll—”

The sound of something massive splashing cut him off, followed by Floyd’s uncontrollable laughter.

“HAHAHA! He slipped into the soup pot! Jade, did you see that?”

“I did,” Jade replied, his voice as smooth as ever. “It was quite elegant.”

“AZUL’S AN EEL NOW!” Floyd cried. “Eel bros for life, baby!”

The orb started vibrating violently.

“Get. Over. Here. Now.” Azul’s voice was barely a whisper, the tone of someone seconds away from an aneurysm.

You sighed and grabbed your bag. “Let’s go before he implodes.”

When you arrived at Mostro Lounge, it was exactly what you expected—and somehow worse. The entire dining area was flooded, eels swam lazily in the soup pots, and Azul was perched on a chair, drenched from head to toe and glaring murderously at Floyd, who was happily paddling through the water like it was his personal playground.

“Finally!” Azul barked, waving his wet hand. “Do something! Anything!”

Floyd, half-submerged in a soup pot, waved at you. “Hey! You wanna join the eel party? First rule—no rules!”

Lilia clapped his hands. “This is magnificent chaos!”

Azul groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I’ll double your pay if you fix this immediately.”

You glanced at Lilia, who was already pouring a suspiciously glowing liquid into the water.

“This should work,” he said cheerfully.

The water started to drain, the eels vanished in puffs of smoke, and the room returned to normal—except for Floyd, who now floated upside down in midair, spinning like a cursed top.

“Whoa, this is AWESOME!” Floyd laughed, twirling like a maniac. “I’m a flying eel!”

Azul sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as you said “I’m charging you extra for emotional damages.”

The hotline orb flared up again, casting a frantic purple glow. You groaned, mid-sip of tea.

“I don’t know if I can handle more insanity.”

Lilia, perched upside down on the couch, grinned. “Nonsense! Chaos keeps the heart young. Answer it!”

Reluctantly, you picked it up. “Cursed and Confused Hotline. What did you do, and how bad is it?”

“It’s me! It’s Epel!” came the desperate, whisper-shouted voice of the Pomefiore freshman. “I need your help—immediately! I’ve got the worst curse of all on me.”

“Worst curse?” you asked, frowning. “What’s going on?”

“Vil,” Epel said, voice shaking. “And Rook.”

“...Epel, those are people, not curses.”

“They are when Vil finds out I repurposed his limited-edition face mask jars as apple cider mugs for the guys in Savanaclaw!”

Lilia burst into a delighted cackle. “Oh, that’s fantastic!”

“Not fantastic! Vil’s gonna flay me alive!” Epel hissed. “And Rook’s hunting me down like a rabbit in the woods. Please, ya gotta help!”

You tried not to laugh. “How exactly do you want me to help? I can’t exactly—”

A loud thud echoed through the call, followed by Epel screaming, “He found me! NO! PUT THAT BOW DOWN!”

“Bonjour, my friend~!” Rook’s voice came through, as smooth as velvet and disturbingly cheerful. “Ah, how beautiful the chase! Like a fox cornered by the hounds, our petit pomme has finally been found!”

“ROOK, NO! DON’T HAND ME OVER!”

“Oh, petit lapin,” Rook said, unbothered, “the punishment will only make you stronger. Think of it as a trial by fire!”

“I DON’T WANT TO BE STRONGER, I WANNA BE ALIVE!” Epel shrieked.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Rook, what exactly are you planning to do with him?”

“Ah, worry not,” Rook replied. “I am but a humble messenger delivering him to justice. Vil has been most patient.”

“HE CALLED ME A PEASANT AND THREW A HEEL AT ME, THAT’S PATIENT?” Epel howled.

Lilia leaned forward, thoroughly entertained. “Rook, at least let us have a word with Epel before he meets his doom.”

“But of course!”

“HELP ME!” Epel screamed the moment Rook handed him the phone. “Distract them, hex me, I dunno, CURSE ME INTO A TREE OR SOMETHING—”

“Epel,” you said firmly, trying not to laugh, “you’re going to have to face Vil eventually. What’s the worst he could do?”

“THE WORST? Oh, I dunno, exile me to a skincare bootcamp for the rest of my natural life?”

Rook’s voice floated in. “Imagine it, petit pomme: cleansing facials, detoxifying baths, and no more cider mugs. A new you!”

“YOU STAY OUTTA THIS!”

You sighed. “I can offer one thing.”

“Anything!”

“An apology. I suggest you start practicing now.”

“An apology?! I called Vil’s collection overhyped snake oil. I’m DOOMED!”

“Not if you run fast enough,” Rook chimed in cheerfully. “Shall we test your stamina?”

The call ended with Epel’s scream, followed by the distinct sound of someone bolting at full speed.

“Well,” Lilia said, smiling. “That was worth every second.”

Jamil’s voice crackled through the orb strained and absolutely done.

"Hi, yeah, it’s me again."

You rolled your eyes. "Let me guess. Kalim tried to throw a party?"

"And Cater," Jamil growled, the sound of something crashing in the background. "Do you have any idea how difficult it is to manage one chaos gremlin? Now imagine two. They’ve cursed half the dorm—random objects are coming to life, and singing. And I don’t mean pleasant singing. I mean like if a banshee and a kazoo had a love child."

Lilia leaned in beside you, eyes glittering with delight. "Oho, this sounds entertaining! What did they do this time?"

Jamil sighed deeply, as if he’d just aged ten years in the past ten minutes. "Kalim thought it would be fun to 'spice up' a party by enchanting the decorations. Cater encouraged him, saying it would make a great Magicam post. The result? The curtains are now tap-dancing, the chandelier won’t stop singing old sea shanties, and the punch bowl tried to bite me."

Lilia clapped his hands. "This sounds like an excellent way to spend the afternoon! Let’s go!"

You groaned. "Why do I have to go?"

"Because you’re the only one who can keep Lilia from making things worse," Jamil deadpanned.

Arriving at Scarabia was like stepping into a fever dream. The furniture was waltzing around the room, the ceiling fan was chanting, "Spin me right round, baby, right round," and the aforementioned punch bowl snarled at you as you walked in.

Kalim, of course, was having the time of his life, clapping to the rhythm of the furniture parade. Cater was filming everything, laughing as he tried to get the chandelier to do a TikTok dance.

"Do you see what I have to deal with?" Jamil hissed, his hair practically frazzled.

"Let’s fix this before someone dies," you muttered, pulling out the anti-curse toolkit Lilia had handed you on the way.

"Or before someone posts this to Magicam and the entire world sees it," Jamil added grimly, glaring at Cater.

It started smoothly enough—well, as smoothly as any curse-breaking session with Lilia could go. The two of you worked to unravel the enchantments while dodging flying pillows and shrieking party streamers.

Then, of course, you made the mistake of touching an enchanted lamp.

It burst into song—loud, off-key, and somehow extremely personal. The lyrics were all about your lack of a love life and questionable fashion choices. Before you could fight back, it tangled itself around your arms and legs, dragging you upward toward the chandelier.

"Hey, uh, Lilia? Little help!"

Lilia, ever the dramatic savior, leaped into action. With a mischievous grin, he sliced through the magical binds with a well-aimed spell and caught you mid-fall.

You blinked up at him, heart hammering in your chest. His crimson eyes glimmered with amusement, his fangs showing in a victorious smirk. He cradled you with an ease that shouldn’t have been possible given his stature.

"You alright there, my dear?" he asked, voice low and teasing.

"Yeah, I’m fine," you muttered, face heating up. "Just…you know…trying not to die."

But your brain wasn’t focusing on that. It was too busy processing the fact that Lilia was holding you like you weighed nothing, and you could feel your pulse quickening. Damn it, why is my heart beating so fast?

He tilted his head, studying you with an unreadable expression. "Are you sure? Your face is a bit flushed."

"Nope! Totally fine!" you squeaked, scrambling out of his arms as soon as your feet touched the ground.

Jamil, watching the whole thing from across the room, rolled his eyes. "Great. Now you’re cursed too."

"Shut up, Jamil."

It took another hour, but the dorm was finally back to normal—or as normal as Scarabia could be. Kalim apologized profusely, Cater promised to delete the footage (he didn’t), and Jamil looked like he might snap at any moment.

As you and Lilia walked out, you tried to calm your racing heart, but he leaned in with a knowing grin.

"Quite the adventure today, wasn’t it?"

"Sure," you replied quickly, hoping your face wasn’t still red.

He hummed thoughtfully. "I wonder what’s got your heart racing so much. You’re not catching feelings for your favorite partner-in-chaos, are you?"

"Not a chance," you lied, your heart betraying you with another treacherous thump.

Lilia just chuckled, and you couldn’t tell if he believed you—or if he was just letting you stew in your own embarrassment for fun.

The enchanted orb buzzed frantically, and you groaned as you reached for it. The second you accepted the call, you heard Deuce.

“HELP! WE MESSED UP BAD!”

“Deuce?” you asked, already dreading the answer. “What did you do this time?”

Jack’s voice came through, exasperated and growly. “It wasn’t just him. I was there too.”

“Great,” you deadpanned. “So, what kind of mess am I cleaning up now?”

Deuce gulped. “We, uh… were practicing some spellwork for exams—”

“Right by the Spelldrive practice field,” Jack added grimly.

Your eyes widened. “Please don’t tell me you—”

“Destroyed the field? Yeah,” Deuce admitted miserably. “But we didn’t mean to! The explosion was an accident!”

You heard a sharp, angry voice in the background: “AN ACCIDENT?! YOU DESTROYED HALF THE FIELD, YOU LITTLE—”

“Leona’s there?” you asked, already standing up.

Deuce nodded frantically. “He’s so mad. Please come before he kills us!”

“Stay put,” you said, grabbing your things. “And pray he doesn’t finish you off before we get there.”

The Spelldrive practice field was a warzone. One goalpost was completely obliterated, sand smoldered in random patches across the ground, and an entire section of the bleachers looked like it had been hit by a tornado.

Leona was standing in the middle of the chaos, arms crossed, glaring daggers at Deuce and Jack, who were huddled behind a tipped-over bench like it could save them. His team stood a safe distance away, clearly too smart to get involved.

You arrived with Lilia in tow, who was already grinning like he’d just stumbled upon the most entertaining show of the year.

“Oh, this is delightful,” Lilia mused, surveying the carnage. “It’s like an abstract painting of destruction.”

“Not helping,” you muttered, jogging toward the scene.

Leona’s sharp green eyes locked onto you. “Finally. You gonna fix this mess, or do I get to turn these two into sandbags?”

“Leona,” you said, stepping between him and the disaster twins, “We’ll handle it. Just… don’t murder them. Yet.”

Leona snorted. “You’ve got five minutes.”

Lilia hummed a jaunty tune as he began waving his hands over the destroyed sections of the field. Slowly, the sand settled, the goalpost reformed, and the bleachers stopped looking like they’d gone through a blender.

Meanwhile, you kept Leona from pouncing on Deuce and Jack, who were watching Lilia work with wide eyes.

“You two better hope I don’t find out about another ‘accident,’” Leona growled, looming over you.

“Relax,” you said, holding up a hand. “They’re idiots, not criminals. Save your energy for your team.”

Leona rolled his eyes but stepped back, muttering something about “babysitters.”

When everything was finally back in order, Lilia dusted off his hands with a satisfied smile. “That was quite fun. We should let those two cause chaos more often.”

You shot him a look. “Please don’t encourage them.”

Leona, arms crossed and clearly annoyed, stepped closer. “You’re done? Good. I’ll send Ruggie with something to pay you later.” Then he smirked, eyes flicking between you and Lilia. “Now keep your lovesick asses away from my practice field.”

Your brain short-circuited. “Wha—?! Lovesick?”

Leona just walked off with a lazy wave, leaving you standing there, half-mortified.

Lilia leaned in, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “Oh my. He really has a way with words, doesn’t he?”

“Don’t you start,” you muttered, your face burning.

But when you turned to walk away, Lilia was by your side, chuckling softly. He caught your wrist gently, pulling you to a stop for just a moment. “For what it’s worth,” he said, voice quieter and more serious, “you were quite impressive back there, keeping Leona from turning them into mincemeat.”

Your heart did a flip. “Uh… thanks?”

He let go with a grin, stepping back and returning to his usual playful tone. “Now, let’s see if we can avoid the next disaster, hmm?”

You weren’t sure if your face would ever cool down.

Potions class with the first-year gang was never uneventful. Today was no exception. The room smelled faintly of burnt caramel as Grim waved his tiny paws at Ace, who was leaning smugly on the table.

“I told you not to put that in!” Grim yelped.

“I barely touched it!” Ace shot back.

“It doesn’t matter who did it!” Sebek barked, slamming his hands on the table. “What matters is that our potion is—”

“About to blow,” Jack growled, pointing to the cauldron bubbling ominously.

“Wait—WHAT?!” you yelped, but it was too late.

The cauldron erupted, spraying a shimmering pink mist over everyone. The class erupted into chaos as Sebek shouted about “inferior techniques,” Epel coughed dramatically like he was dying, and Deuce tried (and failed) to douse the sparks with his coat.

You, unfortunately, caught the brunt of the potion to the face.

You thought the effects were mild at first—just a faint warmth in your chest and the echo of the sugary-sweet scent in your nose. But when you sat down at lunch with Lilia and Malleus, the symptoms became impossible to ignore.

Lilia was chatting animatedly, laughing at his own jokes and waving his fork in the air, while Malleus nodded thoughtfully. But you weren’t hearing a word.

Your brain had decided that the only thing worth focusing on was how kissable Lilia’s lips looked.

Wait, what?

You shook your head, trying to clear it, but it only got worse. Now you were noticing how nice his voice was. And his smile. And the way his hand brushed yours when he passed the salt—

Oh, no.

“Child of man,” Malleus said, pulling you from your internal meltdown, “you seem… distracted.”

You blinked rapidly. “Uh. Yeah. Distracted. Totally fine. Definitely not—uh—totally infatuated with Lilia or anything.”

Lilia looked up, smirking. “Oh? How flattering.”

You nearly choked on your drink. “IT’S THE POTION!”

Malleus watched you pace back and forth in the hallway, his expression somewhere between amused and curious.

“You have to fix me,” you begged, grabbing his shoulders. “This has to be the potion talking. There’s no way I just—randomly—started thinking about Lilia like that!”

Malleus tilted his head, his eyes studying you intently. “You truly believe you are under an enchantment?”

“Yes! Of course!” You gestured wildly. “I mean, it’s Lilia! He’s my partner in crime! He’s—he’s—”

“Kissable?” Malleus offered, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Your hands dropped to your sides. “You are so not helping.”

He stepped closer, his presence calm but commanding, and placed a hand on your shoulder. “Very well, child of man. Allow me to assess your condition.”

Malleus leaned forward, his magic swirling faintly around him as he studied you with eerie precision.

After a moment, he straightened, folding his arms. “The potion you were exposed to was a failure. Its intended effects are nonexistent.”

You froze. “What are you saying?”

Malleus raised an eyebrow. “I am saying that you are not under a spell. Your feelings are entirely your own.”

You stared at Malleus in horror.

“So… you’re telling me… I’m not cursed?”

“Precisely.”

“And this… this whole… wanting to kiss Lilia thing…” You paused, voice dropping to a mortified whisper. “That’s just me?”

Malleus nodded sagely. “Indeed.”

You covered your face with your hands. “No. No, no, no. This can’t be happening.”

Lilia’s voice drifted from the next room. “Are you done conspiring with Malleus, beastie? Lunch is getting cold!”

You peeked through your fingers at Malleus, who looked like he was thoroughly enjoying your suffering.

“Good luck, child of man,” he said, patting your shoulder.

You groaned. “I’m going to die.”

And yet, as you returned to the table and sat down next to Lilia, who greeted you with his usual teasing grin, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

You didn’t think it could get any worse than being late for class, but that was before Grim decided to experiment with potions unsupervised. Now, you and Lilia were sprinting through the halls of NRC, dodging a cursed army of flying spoons.

“I told Grim not to use the potions lab as a snack bar!” you gasped, barely ducking as a spoon zoomed past your head with terrifying precision.

Lilia, running beside you, was grinning like this was the most fun he’d had all week. “I must admit, this is an impressive level of chaos. Even I wouldn’t have thought to curse cutlery!”

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself,” you panted, grabbing his arm as another wave of spoons turned the corner. “Hide!”

The two of you dove behind a nearby tapestry, pressing against the wall as the spoons zipped past, their metallic clinking fading into the distance.

For a moment, it was quiet—except for the pounding of your heart.

Your breathing slowly steadied, but your heart didn’t. Not when Lilia was so close, his eyes gleaming with excitement and his cheeks flushed from the chase.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Lilia,” you blurted, voice trembling but determined, “I’m in love with you.”

Lilia blinked, his surprise evident for a split second before a soft smile curved his lips. “Ah, I see. Was it the spoons that gave me away, or my undeniable charm?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I’m serious!”

He chuckled, gently pulling your hands away to meet your eyes. “So am I. I’ve felt the same for quite some time.”

Your breath hitched. “Really?”

“Really,” he murmured, leaning closer. His lips brushed yours, soft and fleeting, but it sent your heart racing like you were being chased by a thousand cursed spoons.

He pulled back, his grin mischievous. “Now, let’s survive this first date, shall we?”

He grabbed your hand, pulling you from your hiding spot just as the spoons began circling back like a swarm of metallic bees.

“Run!”

You laughed despite yourself, sprinting hand-in-hand with Lilia as the chaos erupted around you once more.

And yet, as you glanced at him—his hair wild, his smile unshakable, his fingers warm around yours—you couldn’t help but think:

I want this forever.

Masterlist

[inkdrinkerworld]

Could I request a Dealer! Remus x Shy! Reader where reader is absolutely terrified of buying their own stuff but her friends are trying to help them out of their shell so instead of taking the money R gives them to buy for them, thier friends write down what they need to say and tell them where to go. And thats where Reader meets Remus (Who is infatuated with them after interacting with them for the first time). If you don't feel like writing it thats totally ok :)))

mary encourages you to buy the weed yourself because she’s pretty sure remus likes you wc:736

“You can do it, babe.” Your friend cheers softly as she hands you a piece of paper with what you need to say.

You’re terrified, knees knocking in the passenger seat as you attempt getting out for the second time.

“Can’t you do it? Please? What if I mess up?” She shakes her head. You’re a shy thing by nature to people who you don’t know and this is a new dealer you’ve only seen twice. You’d never spoken to him and hence the fear for embarrassing yourself in front of him.

“You won’t mess up. He’s nice anyhow, so if you do he won’t care.”

He is nice. Remus, the dealer you’ve seen twice, is as polite as can be and is a gentleman in a way you thought couldn’t possibly exist anymore.

You steel yourself with a final sigh and open the door.

A bell jungles as you push the dispensary door open, and as you take a couple steps inside, a head of sandy brown waves pops up.

“Hiya,” Remus calls, smiling when he sees it’s you. Your chest tightens as you receive his full attention. You can feel your fingers tingling as he waves you over. “Just you today?”

You shake your head, swallowing harshly before saying, “Mary’s in the car.”

He nods, scratching his chin, “Making you do all the hard work huh?”

You offer him a smile but it’s all tight lipped and wrong. If Remus notices, he doesn’t say.

“Could I get our usual?”

You’d look down at the paper if you didn’t feel like he’d be scrutinizing you. What type of smoker is scared to buy their own product?

“Your usual? That’s two ounces right?”

Your hands shake as you pull out a chair at the table.

“Yeah, thanks.”

Remus smiles when you sit at the counter, your legs swinging as you watch him weigh the product.

“Oh,” your voice shakes a little, worse when a single wave caresses Remus forehead and he looks up at you through his lashes. He’s dizzyingly pretty. “And um, two of your snickerdoodle cookies if you have them.”

Remus nods, a kind smile on his face. You’re the cutest customer he has, shyness included. Remus has heard you with your friends when you’re relaxed but he quite likes you to himself.

“That’s no problem, dove.”

Your chest burns at the moniker. You twist the garnet ring around your finger, the stone moving from the outside of your hand to the darkness of your palm over and over.

“Did you finish your book?” Remus asks, remembering from your last visit that you were reading a winter fantasy with your friends.

You perk a little, shoulders relaxing a bit. “I did,” you slide your pendant across the chain as Remus comes to the counter with your bag of cookies and your weed.

“Was it any good?” He smells like weed but something peppery and citrusy under it. Like peppercorns and oranges, and maybe a little pine.

You nod as he rings up your bill. You tap your card on the screen.

“It was, the ending was a bit unconventional, but I suppose that’s fantasy.” It’s the longest sentence you’ve ever spoken to him and for it you’re granted his full smile. The one that makes the scar through his lip look like silver. He really is a handsome man.

“Maybe you can loan it to me? That way we can talk about it better. And while you wait for my thoughts you could read one of mine?”

You give Remus a careful smile of your own. “That could be nice.”

He nods, “Give me a call then and we can meet up to exchange them then. Make a date out of it. Yeah?”

Your eyes widen, Remus thinks of the wide eyes of a horse instantly. The wide, trusting but wonderstruck look they seem to have is mirrored in your own.

“Y-yeah, I’d like that.”

Remus rounds the counter to walk you to the door, his hand hovering over your back and you find even the ghost of his hand pleasant. “My number’s on the cookie bag. Have a good rest of your evening, dove.”

“Than-“ you cut yourself off. “You too Remus.”

Mary’s smug as ever as you sit in the car, her rear view mirror showing Remus leaning on the door as she pulls off. She knew you had it in you.

[warlocksoup]

SLEAZE ✶⋆.˚ MIYA OSAMU

CHAPTER ONE: locked out

SOUNDTRACK: i don't know you by mannequin pussy

cw: implied ed/unhealthy relationship to food

For breakfast, she cracks an egg onto a hot pan. She ignores it, and lets it crack and bubble, turning her attention to a cold clump of white rice she pulled from the fridge. She turns on the faucet of her kitchen sink and lets the water run into the bowl before she tosses it in the microwave. Two minutes. The eggs pop and crackle in the pan.

When the microwave beeps, she grabs the bowl with her bare hands and burns them. She mumbles curses under her breath and equips herself with a dishrag before she goes at it again. Haphazardly, she slips the egg out of the pan and onto the steaming bowl of rice. She sits down at her counter, remembers that she left the stovetop on, and stands to turn it off before she gets her first bite in.

The eggs are overcooked and tough, but she likes it that way, because if the texture is too runny, it makes her think of snot, and she gets too repulsed to eat anymore. The rice is gummy and sticky. She eats about half of the egg and a quarter of the rice before she gives up, and, when she documents this failure to empty her plate, she cites her inability properly prepare food that isn’t a hot. mushy, chewy mess as the reason. She dumps the rest of it in the trash.

✶⋆.˚

She’s technically unemployed. When her mother calls her to try and rectify this, she falls back on Kenma.

“-and if you want to start auditioning again, I can call my agent friend, and we can get you set up. It’s really no trouble at all. He’d really love to see you on screen again. We all would, sweetie. It’s been so long, and you’re just so talented. Doesn’t it seem like a waste to just rot away in that apartment of yours? With the connections that you have it seems an awful shame. There are a lot of people who would kill for what you have, honey.”

There’s an unlit cigarette in her mouth. Kenma reaches out and snatches it from her mouth before she can light it. He doesn’t even look back at her as he snaps it in half.

“No, Mom, it’s okay,” she says, phone pressed between her elbow and her cheek as she shuffles to grab her pack out from her sweatshirt pocket again. “I got a lot of stuff going on with Kenma and his Bouncing Balls thing,” she pulls out the carton and flicks the lid open, “I don’t think I have the time to even prepare for an audition, and even if I wanted to,” Kenma grabs at the entire carton and forces it out of her hand. She hits his arm.

Her mother sighs wistfully on the other line. “Well, if you change your mind, let me know. It’d really make me happy to see you act again.”

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. From his spot on his couch beside her, Kenma removes one hand from his phone to place it on her knee. “I know, Mom.”

“Just let me know. I’ve got to go now. I have a dinner with one of the producers of Ripple Effect. I know you don’t want me to, but I’ll bring your name up just in case. They’re always looking for guest stars. You never know, you might change your mind.”

“Yeah, I might,” she agrees, knowing that she won’t. She looks at Kenma, like she’s begging to be saved, but he keeps his focus on his phone, indifferent to her suffering. “Have fun at your dinner. I’ll talk to you later.”

She doesn’t wait for her mother’s response before she hangs up, but before she can press that red button, she can hear her mother’s half-hearted ‘love you,’ come through the speaker. She pockets her phone.

“It’s Bouncing Ball,” Kenma says, still not looking up from his phone.

“What?” She leans back against the arm of the couch, and kicks her legs out, so her calves are resting on Kenma’s lap. He used to push her legs off of him whenever she did this, but now it seems that it’s not worth the effort to him.

“It’s ball, not balls,” he corrects, and it occurs to her that this is far from the first time he’s had to do so. She can’t ever remember the difference. Ball or balls. Makes no difference to her. “And what are you so busy doing here that you can’t audition for anything?”  

If it weren’t for Kenma, she’d have to get a real job. But she has Kenma, so she was able to dish out enough of her child actor savings to throw at him, and he took it and made it so she gets a healthy paycheck at the end of every week. She doesn’t know how it works. Kenma’s explained it to her before, but she’s never really listened. Matters of money bore her. Most things bore her.

She likes to pretend that Kenma just likes spending time with her enough to pay her for it. It’s more interesting than being an investor or partial owner or whatever the fuck she actually is.

She gives Kenma a bright grin. “Keeping you company, of course.”

“You should get a real job, instead,” he tells her, shutting off his phone and tossing it on the couch cushion. “It’s a better way of spending your time than bothering me all day.”

“Stop pretending you don’t like me,” she tells him. Kenma’s indifference used to eat away at her. In high school, she would obsess over earning his affection, and it drove her insane that he wouldn’t give it up. She used to think she was in love with him, but it turned out she had just tied in her self-worth to his approval.

Turns out she does that kinda thing pretty often.

And anyways, Kenma’s indifference was never really indifference. He just took a few years to get used to.

“It’d be good for you,” he says. “If not for money, then just so you have something to do. Maybe just something part-time.”

Her eyes roll, almost automatically.  All anyone ever does is complain about the job they’ve got. Even if they love it. Even if they’ve dedicated their life to it. She has plenty of unread texts in her phone from Kuroo to prove it. “I’m plenty happy without one.”

Kenma makes some noise in the back of his throat that comes across as half disapproving and half disinterested. And the conversation ends there.

✶⋆.˚

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

The wind is whipping her hair in her face and blocking the view of the inside of her purse as her hands frantically push aside her belongings. Her lip-gloss and pepper spray and loose coins knock together as she tries to find her keys.

But no matter how much she moves around her purse’s insides, she can’t find them. And in fact, she can picture perfectly where they are: sitting on the edge of the counter in Kenma’s kitchen, next to her stolen pack of cigarettes and a half-empty can of an energy drink.

The wind is getting colder and she’s starting to shiver under her thin jacket. Just behind the locked door, there’s a faux minx coat hanging up above her shoe rack, and she’s fantasizing about its warmth.

“Fuck,” she grumbles again, eventually moving past denial and giving up her search for her keys in favor of her phone. Kenma’s the only person she ever calls, so she’s quick to find his contact. She calls his number, and steps away from her front door, one arm pressing her phone to her ear, and the other wrapping around her center, pulling the jacket tighter to her.

The phone rings, and rings, and Kenma does not answer. She hangs up and tries to dial again but gets the same result. “Fuck, Kenma, I left your keys at my place and now I’m locked out. Call me back please.”

She hangs up, and scrolls through her notifications, hoping that there’s some text from Kenma saying he found her keys and is already on his way to bring them to her.

kodzuken has gone live!

She’s fucked.

Feeling defeated, she flops back against the door, and pouts. The solution to most of her problems. Kenma wouldn’t notice if she kicked down his door. She’s sure she could break in, if she tried hard enough. Though one of his neighbors might call the police if she tries to break a window in. And even if they didn’t, Kenma might not forgive her for that one. He’d probably give her a pay cut, if he could. Actually, she’s not sure he could, she’s not really sure how it works.

“Hey!”

She lifts her head. The Miya of Onigiri Miya is standing at the edge of the sidewalk, hands deep in his pockets. A car passes between them, and then it’s just the two of them. She swallows.  

She takes a step forward without really thinking about it. He looks cold, arms exposed by the short sleeves of his t-shirt, covered in nothing else but his store apron. He grabs at the brim of his cap, and then pulls it down firm. “Are you okay?”

✶⋆.˚

In front of her is her usual lunch, salmon onigiri, plated neatly on the counter of Onigiri Miya. She sits there, the restaurant’s only occupant, and keeps her arms by her side, staring down at the meal before her.

“Is everything okay?”

Her eyes flick up. Behind the counter, where he usually is, is the owner. The titular Miya. With the arms.

She looks back down at her plate. The idea of eating her lunchtime food at night makes her uneasy. There’s a cold plate of curry rice in her fridge she was supposed to be heating up instead. She doesn’t want to eat in front of Miya. She does usually, during lunch, but it’s different. He’s too busy then, hands full with tasks and customers, to notice her eating. Now, it’s like there’s a spotlight on her.

“I just made your usual lunch order,” Miya says, like he went too long without an answer and got nervous. He scratches the back of his neck. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask what you want, I just figured. If it’s not what you wanted, I can make you something else.”

“No,” she shakes her head, now feeling like she’s got no choice. “This is great, thanks.”

She smiles at him, and he smiles back. And he doesn’t look away as she tepidly lifts the onigiri to take a small bite out of the corner, feeling nauseous and watched as she does so.

This seems to satisfy him. “Good?” he questions.

She nods as she chews, smiling as she swallows. “Yeah, great as always,” she tells him, lying. It tastes like everything else does to her. “You make my favorite food, y’know.”

That’s at least true. It is her favorite food. She likes that he makes it, carefully, with his own hands.

He blushes at this. “Thanks. I, uh, I appreciate that.”

She’s spent a lot of time imaging him, thinking of scenarios like this one. The two of them alone, passing tension-filled words and blushing flirtations. He has been carefully constructed, pieced together in her mind.

Though, he’s not as forward as she imagined him to be, not as talkative. In her head, he is bold and gives her straightforward compliments and he fusses over her and he is smooth with his words. In her head, he feeds her with his own hands and wipes the corner of her mouth with his thumb.

But in real life, he’s reserved. Polite but not saying more than he needs to. He hasn’t professed attraction or begged her for a date or pressed her against the wall. He hasn’t done anything but give her a plate of food and a warm place to wait for Kenma.

Which isn’t as disappointing as she thought it would be. It just sort of makes her want it more.

Her phone buzzes on the countertop. She flips it over to see nothing from Kenma, but a generic ‘here’s what you missed’ Twitter notification. She hesitantly takes another bite from her meal, and it hits the pit of her stomach like a wet pile of mud.

In her seat, she feels awkward. She tries to think of something intriguing to say. Something that would make him want to see more of her. But all she can think of his how hot the lights of the store feel when he’s there, watching as she eats.

“Thanks for letting me wait here,” she says eventually. “I am sorry to keep you here past closing, though.”

Miya shrugs. “Nah, don’t worry about it. It got me out of making dinner for my brother, so it actually works out pretty great for me.”

Her phone vibrates again. Her mother this time.

Dinner went well! I got a good word in with that producer, so you might be getting a call soon!

She can’t help but make a face. She wipes it off as soon as she feels it grow.

 “Bad news from your friend?” Miya asks, reading the sourness of her expression.

“Uh, no. Just my mom,” she explains, and shifts around in her seat. “She’s trying to get me on a television show.”

Miya leans forward, resting his forearms on the counter in front of her. It makes her oddly nervous. “And it’s not going well?”

She snickers. “Actually, it’s going a little too well. I’m not really into acting. I retired when I was eight.”

“Yeah, I remember,” he tells her. “Me and my brother used to watch Family Sized with our mom every week. He had a crush on you, and he cried when you left the show.”

It’s weird for her to think that people just know. Especially him. That he can just look back at some of the worst years of her life as just as a collection of fond moments from his childhood. An hour to bond once a week with his brother and mother. To sit in front of the television and watch her suffer through her childhood.

Him, and everyone else in the goddamn country.

“Yeah, my mom too,” she says wryly. “She’s been trying to get me back in it ever since then. Unfortunately for her, I like my current job too much.”

“Yeah? What’s your current job?”

She smiles. “I’m unemployed.”

Miya laughs, dropping his head down as he chuckles, and she feels oddly proud for making him laugh. Even if it’s at her own expense. He straightens up and stands upright. “Well, if you ever do want a job, you can always try it out here.”

It’s not an invitation for late night drinks, but she takes it as an indicator that maybe he wouldn’t mind spending more time with her. She’s counting it as a win. “Yeah, if you ever want to give your customers food poisoning, I’d be a great hire.”

Another notification from her phone. This one’s from Kenma.

I sent an Uber back to your place. Just stay at my place tonight. I don’t feel great about you going back and forth this late at night.

She looks down at her barely eaten onigiri and then back up at Miya again. “Got an Uber coming my way,” she tells him. “I’ll go outside and wait for it. Thanks for letting me stay here.”

“You sure you don’t need anything else?” he questions. “Do you want me to wrap up the rest of that for you so you can take it home?”

She says yes, because she thinks it would offend him if she said no. So he places the rest of it an a paper box for her and she says thank you as she takes it from him, knowing she has no intention of finishing it off.

A car pulls up to the outside of her apartment as she’s walking out the door. She turns back to Miya, and she says, “Tell your brother I’m sorry, by the way, for leaving the show and making him cry like that.”

He waves her off. “Don’t worry about him,” he tells her. “I’m hoping he’s over it, by now.”

taglist: @kameyyy @wyrcan @angee444 @lale-txt @akaashislovee @localgaytrainwreck @whorefornoodles @baylz @asrichin @miiyas @ferntv @atzixo @kr1nqu @spicana @weezerbby @chaosakademia @theepitomeofswag @qardasngan @tinnierat @gigiiiiislife @acowboykisser @wordsofelie @asnjinj @miakxn @svquru @arirants111 @nekomasmngr @iluv-ace @therealmsbahng @videlll @yessimo @socoolsocoolsocool @bertqut1 @rosellerinfrost

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[admirationandromantics]

Going overboard, 2: Darkness

Second chapter out! (Yes, there'll be smut in the next one, so get ready). The time of the happenings throughout the story might be a little fucked up, so just ignore that. Hope everything's okay so far. Enjoy!

❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀

Ashley is sitting on the steps beside the door, but when I arrive, she quickly gets up. I look over, wondering if I should say something. I really want to talk to her, to have my best friend back. But I cannot forgive what happened. Not yet anyway. She doesn't move from her standing, waiting for some type of confirmation that talking to me is okay. I don’t want to indulge her, but I have to say something. 

“Hey Ash”

“Hey.” It’s awkward, weird. I feel like a completely different person. The atmosphere is tense, and Sam is looking at each one of us, waiting for something to happen. I hear loud footsteps from behind as Chris makes his way beside me. 

“Man I feel like this mountain gets bigger every time I climb it,” he states, hands resting on each side of his hips. 

“Oh yeah?” I know that voice, and I stop breathing. My mind suddenly sharpening and prior coldness turning hot. I turn around to find Josh walking towards us. We make eye-contact and he stops in his tracks. 

“Oh, you’re here?” he says, and my cheeks flush from embarrassment. I shouldn’t be here, and I’ll go in the morning, I just need to talk to him. 

“Yeah, rode with Sam,” I reply, making a gesture towards her. 

“Hey Josh!” she waves from behind me. 

“Well, glad you all came,” he says, gaze turning away from me. I feel bad. I look at Ashley, and she looks at me with worry. She knows something’s up. 

“When are you going to install some cell towers up here? I’m getting withdrawals already,” Chris complains. My eyes don’t move away from Josh. He seems oddly happy, oddly calm. Like he’s wearing a mask. He folds his arms before answering. 

“You got a spare million lying around and I’ll fix you right up”

“Funny you should say that-” Chris starts, feeling his pockets. 

“Ah, I think I left it in my other jacket”

“Oops”

Ashley sits down on the stairs again, looking away from me. I wish the stuff from last year never happened. Josh turns around, and I notice Matt and Emily for the first time. Emily is looking as good as ever, unbothered by everyone. A freeze creeps up my spine. I always got this uneasy feeling when being in her presence. Matt is standing behind her, a bag standing by his feet. He looks worried, and angry. A weird mix. I still don’t feel comfortable with everyone here. 

“Get here okay?” Josh asks them. 

“Yeah, well, more or less. But it’s so good to see you” Ashley answers. Matt is silent, and Emily looks at him annoyed. Josh walks up to the redhead, asking in a low tone. 

“What’s up with them?”

“Mhm” she responds, looking up at them before shaking her head. Drama, again. Does it never end? Chris and Josh walk up to the door while we others wait. I don’t want to be a bother to him, yet. They talk loudly while getting the door open, using way too long. 

“Damn, frozen lock,” I hear. I look up, but they’re still talking. Probably about how to get in. The cold is getting to everyone, Emily is warming herself with her hands, and looks over to Matt for support. He doesn’t do anything, just continues staring into the woods. 

Finally, they both make their way down again, Chris stopping in front of Ashley. 

“Hey Ash,” he smiles. Her cheeks redden as she waves at him. They’re cute, both of them. I would’ve thought that by last year they would’ve gotten together, but it seems like none of them still dare to make a move. 

“Soo, how’re you doing?” he asks, and she looks over at me before turning her gaze back at him. 

“Mmm, good I guess. A little cold though. I think I could use some time curled up by the fire…”

I can’t help but smile at Chris’s reaction. He blushes, looking at her intently. Sam snickers as she gives me a nudge. We both know what he’s thinking about now. 

“Yeah, that does sound pretty nice…”

They both smile at each other, before Josh signals for him to follow. They make their way around the house. I turn back around, seeing Ashley standing up and grabbing my arm. We go the opposite of them, getting a little away from the others. As we stop, she lets out a breath, staring at me intensely. 

“Look, I know you probably don’t want to talk to me, or even see me, but we have to. I need to,” she starts, and I look down at the ground. I’m bombarding Josh on this trip, it’s fair for her to do the same to me. 

“Yeah, that’s one of the reasons I came”

“I never meant for any of the things that happened to ‘actually’ happen”

I look up at her again, missing her. The whole year has been a wreck, and I didn’t even have my best friend to help me through it. 

“I followed them, I did, I was in it, I know I was. I just, I never meant to hurt either of them”

“I know you didn’t. That doesn’t change the fact that you were in on a plan that lead to their deaths”

“You have no idea how much regret I have, I keep playing that night over and over again, wishing I could change it. I’ve missed you!” She takes a breather before continuing. “This whole year, I’ve been so alone, please”

Tears are forming in her eyes, and I feel myself getting heavier. I love her so much, and it wasn’t her fault. She was also the one of those involved who spent the most time outside searching for them. I remember getting up and finding her with frozen fingers, getting ready to go outside again. 

“It’s going to take some time for me to completely trust you again-” I begin. Her eyes fill with hope, and my chest lightens from her reaction. 

“Take all the time you need, but know that I’m here when, or if, you decide to come back”

“We can start slow,” I say as I grab onto her arms and pull her into a hug. I feel her breathing steady and her heartbeat slow. Tears form in my eyes as I rest my head on her shoulder. I’ve missed her so much. She hugs me hard, and I wonder if I’ll ever get out of her grip. She’s stronger than she looks. 

“Thank you,” she whispers back, and we pull apart. We make our way over to the others, Sam giving me an encouraging smile. Only one last person to talk to. 

We wait a bit, and I decide to walk to the side of the house to check up on them. They’ve been there for an awfully long time. I arrive, noticing a missing axe on the side of the house and two men trying to shove a big dumpster. I notice the open window as well, getting to know their plan. 

“Need any help?” I ask, walking over. 

“Ugh, please” Chris pleads, showing his side. Josh doesn’t say anything. He just waits on the other side of us to be ready to push. I help them, and in three hard rounds, we manage to move it enough. Chris makes a loud grunt as he hops on it, looking in the window. Josh still doesn’t pay attention to me, so I decide to make myself useful instead. The dumpster is high, so I nudge Chris’s foot. He looks down at me, reaching his hand down for me to grab. With his help, I manage to get up. The inside looks dark and dusty, not my type of environment. As I turn around, my foot slips on the ice, making me fall. I yelp as I go down, closing my eyes and covering my head in my arms. I wait for the impact, but am instead grabbed by two hands. I open my eyes, meeting Josh’s. My breathing quickens, lips parting a bit for more air. He’s standing still, one hand on my back and one under my legs, holding me bridal style. I can’t read his expression. His eyes are wider than usual, and I notice the strong colour of his undereyes. He hasn’t slept well recently. My hand goes automatically to his shoulder, and I suddenly get flashbacks to our drunken nights. Him twirling me around in a playful manner then stopping and staring into my eyes a little too long before putting me down. Right now, he doesn’t put me down, instead he keeps looking at me. My cheeks feel hot, and my lips yearn. His brows furrow, a bit of anxiousness and hurt showing. I’m holding myself up with one of my arms, but the other moves to his neck, feeling his naked skin. Then we hear a loud thud. 

He shakes his head, suddenly remembering where we are, and he puts me down. Still a bit in the moment, it takes some time to gain my balance again. We both look up to Chris, but he’s not there. Instead, the window is wide open. I’m about to get on top of the dumpster as Josh reaches out a hand for me. I take it, smiling at him while he helps me up. He smiles back, a kind one. Those are the ones I like the best. His other hand goes to my back, as I steady myself on the box. On the top, I give him my hand, helping him up as well. We both look down and see a hurt Chris lying on the floor, teeth bared and eyes pinched closed. 

“I’m okay! Should’ve paid more attention in climbing class” he comments, and I snicker. 

“You mean gym?” Josh asks, clearly confused. 

“Yeah, you know, with the climbing up the rope”

“Yeah, that’s what you do in gym class” I add. 

He stands up, the lightbulb suddenly exploding. 

“Shit” we all say in unison.

“Did I do that?” Chris asks. 

“Uhh, I don’t think so”

Josh looks down, grabbing a hold of a lighter in his pocket and throwing it to him. 

“Here, use this”

Chris flicks it, but it doesn’t light up as much as expected. 

“Woah, Chris I just got an awesome idea-”

“Yeah?”

“Totally. Okay, so I’m pretty sure that I’ve got some deodorant in one of the bathrooms, you could use that with the lighter”

I look weirdly at him. “How’s a stick of deodorant going to help?”

He nudges me, looking over and smiling. “It’s a spray can.” I haven’t seen his smiles in a year, so every one of them makes me smile back, a warm feeling spreading in my chest. I look over at Chris again.

“Flamethrower, like we do with the little army dudes!” he exclaims. 

“Yep, the ones that we melted”

“Freaks” I comment, pretending-rolling my eyes. Chris gives me a pouty mouth. 

“Okay, so you got this?” Josh asks, and he nods, walking further into the room. Josh and I jump down, luckily both landing on our feet. I look over at him, unsure of how to proceed. Luckily, he begins. 

“So, we haven’t talked for a while”

“Yeah,” I nod. 

“And, you came here?”

My breath catches as shame coats me. I’m absolutely an intruder. 

“Sorry Josh, you haven’t been responding, and I just needed to know you were okay”

He gives a slight smirk. 

“So, still care about me huh? Even after a year?” 

My heart sinks a bit as I’m going to tell him about my feelings. He got to know last year, but I just need some sort of closure. A year without moving on has made me come to that decision. 

“Listen, if you don’t want me here, that’s fine, I’ll take the bus tomorrow morning. And I got a bit hurt from not getting any responses from you, and that’s fine, I get it. But please, since you obviously don’t want to think about everything that happened last year, we can just go back to being friends, good friends-”

“I don’t want that” he responds, and I look down again. 

“Then I’ll be out of here tomorrow morning, okay? The bus only goes onc-” 

He suddenly grabs my hand, stopping me from walking back. 

“Hey, that’s not how I meant it. I wanted to get back in touch with you, just after this, I truly did, but-”

“But what?”

“What happened between us last year… I don’t want to let that go”

Our eyes meet, faces closing in. 

“I’ve just been working through everything, and things haven’t fallen into place yet”

“I know, I know. I’m here for you Josh, if you need me”

His signature smirk plasters on him, and I can’t help but blush. His hand moves to my waist, the other behind my neck. 

“Good God, of course I need you” he whispers, pulling me in and kissing me. His lips are cold, but I don’t mind. My arms close around his neck, and I pull our bodies closer. Our moment is interrupted by several shouts. We look at each other before running over to the others. A baby animal runs down the stairs and into the forest. Everyone is laughing while Chris holds the door open for everyone. 

“Home sweet home,” Josh says as he walks in. Everybody sighs. 

“It’s freezing in here”

“I’ll get a fire going”

I look around, surprised by how little has changed. It looks exactly the same. Matt points it out, also analysing the place. 

“Well, nobody’s been up here” Josh explains. Telling us how the police stopped working quite quickly. 

“What’s up party-people”

“Heeeey!”

Mike and Jess. I sense some tension in the room, and catch Emily giving them a nasty glare. They both take a place on the sofa, rubbing on each other. Nasty people. Matt stares at Mike, giving him the up-and-down. They’re all crazy, everyone’s ego shooting through the roof. 

“Yeah, come in, take whatever you want” Matt says in an accusing tone. Fuck, already? I pull up my phone, trying not to pay attention to the others. A bunch of words are exchanged, and I only catch a few. 

“Watch yourself Mike”

“Was your sluttyness too loud?”

“Oh, no one else can play with your toys?”

I give up, deciding to pay attention. As long as I’m not part of it, it’s fine. Emily and Jess continue tearing each other up, building the tension more and more. Mike is silent, and Matt tries to occasionally cut in to diffuse the situation. 

“Stop it!” Josh suddenly shouts. 

“This is not why we came up here, this is not helping-”

“This is not what I wanted. If we can’t get along for ten minutes then maybe we need a break?”

I stand up with Sam, unsure of our next move. No one is paying attention to us, everyone focuses on their own fights. 

“Mike, why don’t you check out the guest cabin I told you about?”

“Yeah, we’ll go do that,” he answers, holding out his hand for Jess. They both make their way outside. 

“Wait, shit” Josh exclaims, slamming his hand into his head. “I forgot about the generator.”

“I’ll get it” I volunteer. He showed it to me last year, so I’ll manage on my own. 

“You’re an angel” he points at me, before leaning down to the fireplace. 

I make my way outside, the wind surprising me. The wind is refreshing, pulsing through my lungs. I want to run down, at least jog, but don’t dare because of the ice. Instead, I plug in my earpods, listening to already downloaded music. A squirrel climbs a tree on my left, and I consider stopping for it. I remember giving my nuts to Sam on the bus-ride, so maybe I should just leave it alone. The path is dark, and a little bit scary. The same eerie feeling that bothered me in the start creeps back, and I take a hold around myself. Why did I decide to go alone again? I arrive in the shed, opening the generator and starting it up. I suddenly get a feeling like I’m being watched, so I quickly make my way up again. On the way I meet Emily and Matt. I slow down, greeting them. 

“Where are you guys going?”

“Forgot one of our bags” Emily responds. 

“We’ll be quick”

I continue walking up, noticing movement in the side of my vision. I turn, but nothing’s there. I hold my breath, looking closer. After a minute, I give up. It was probably an elk or a deer. 

I only find Ashley and Chris sitting on the sofa inside. 

“Where are the others?”

“Sam’s checking the bathtub upstairs while Josh’s trying to get her some warm water going” Chris responds. 

“He probably needs help” Ashley adds.

“And none of you wanted to?”

“Nah”

I give them both a fake-disappointed look before making my way to the cellar. The concrete walls look dirty, and the light is off. When I’m down, I hear a low summing to my left. Knowing Josh is further in the right, I still decide to check out the sound. I walk over to a heavy metal door, looking around it for some sort of glimpse to the other side. I put my ear against it, hearing the summing sound better. It sounds like some type of technology, like a used up computer. 

“Boo!”

Hands grab me, making me scream. Josh is laughing, moving his hands to hold me, but I keep hitting him. 

“You fucking jerk Washington, you scared the crap out of me!” I scold, letting my hands fall to my sides. 

“Sorry, sorry. Felt like the right thing to do in the moment,” he excuses, hands moving around me, hugging carefully. My heart rate lowers, and I let myself sink into his embrace.  

“Could you help me with this water-thing?” he asks, looking down at me expectfully. 

“Of course, but wait-” I say while he drags me. 

“Josh, what is behind this door?”

“That one?” he points. 

“Yeah, I heard something. It was like, summing or something”

“Probably just the pipes” he says, dragging me further away. 

“Okay…”

We make our way to the cabinet, picking and poking at some wires. 

“Can you click that button when it turns red?” he asks. I nod in reply. When it turns red, I quickly push it, making it green. 

“Hey we did it!” he exclaims, hand going up for a high five. As I make contact, he grabs my hand, turning it, and making me spin around. As I bump into him, he places a kiss on my forehead. I laugh, but he just keeps smiling. 

“You’re beautiful, you know”

“Why thank you, you’re not too bad yourself”

I grab his hand harder, and start walking. I want to make my way out of here, the vibe is creeping me out. 

“I feel like you just called me average”

“Wouldn’t have fucked you if you were just average”

“True that”

As I take the first step up the stairs, a loud bang is heard. Like metal on concrete. I turn around, not glimsing anything. Josh is looking attentively, carefully letting go of my hand. 

“Josh” I whisper. 

“Stay there”

I don’t listen, and instead make my way silently behind him, holding on to his bicep. 

“You heard that, right?” he asks, and I hum. 

Suddenly a man in a cloak and mask jumps forward, arms out. We both shout, grabbing each other's hands and running to the stairs. I smack my arm on the corner of the opening, making it hurt. I don’t bother with it, getting up to the door and trying to get it open. 

“Josh! Josh! Josh!” I shout, not able to open it. 

“It doesn’t open from inside!”

“How do we get fucking open then!” I shout back, furiously gripling at the door. 

The guy comes nearer, and Josh puts his arm defensively in front of me. I lean into him, hand grabbing him, hard. 

“Eyy”

“What?”

“Eyyyy…”

“What the fuck, Chris?” I manage to squeak out. Josh is laughing his ass off, and I look to and fro them both. 

“You just got monked!”

“Gosh, Chris, nice one”

“Wha-?? Why would you do that?” I ask, the tension leaving my body, finally being able to relax. 

Josh places his arm on my back, calming me down. 

“Come on, it was funny”

“Absolutely not”

As we walk back, I turn to Chris. 

“Okay, I’m ready to admit that your dumb little prank may have had a slight whiff of humour to it,” I state, the harshness in my voice disappearing. 

“Jokemaster!”

“I never said anything about jokes, I was talking about your stupid prank-”

“Holy crap” Josh chimes in. “You were scared, admit it”

“I wasn’t scared, I was surprised”

“Nah hun, you almost pissed yourself”

“I did not!”

We make our way back to Ashley, who’s walking towards us. She meets Chris in the middle, and he bows. 

“What in God’s name are you wearing?”

“I’ve found my true calling” he says, making a cross in the air. 

“Please tell me you’re going to take a vow of silence”

Chris starts talking soundless in the air, making Ashley laugh. I look between the two, the tension between them stronger than before. When are they gonna crack? What will it take? 

“Feel better now?” Josh asks me, nudging me in the arm. A sharp pain goes through me as he does. 

“Ouch, fuck” I whisper, grabbing the spot. 

“Shit” he suddenly gets a worried look on his face. 

“I’m just gonna go to the bathroom and check this out” I say, starting to make my way up the stairs. 

“Hey wait up, Sam’s in there, you can use mine”

“Oh okay, and which room was that again?”

“I’ll show you” 

“Hey Josh, do you have an ouija board?” Chris asks. 

“Yeah, just look in those shelves over there, see if you can find it. We’ll be right back”

His hand moves to my lower back, guiding me up the stairs. As I walk down the hallway, memories start flooding in. Him and I walking down these corridors, and into his room, then…

We go to the room above his, where he opens a cabinet and finds some salve. I start undressing, shaking a bit from the cold. As I get to my last layer, I realise that I’m only wearing a bra underneath. 

“You gonna take that off?” he asks, pointing to my sweater. I give him a smirk, leaning forward slightly. 

“Sure you can handle it?”

“Absolutely not”

I laugh at him, deciding to just take off my sweater. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. He looks in awe as I turn around and check out my arm in the mirror. It’s just a scrape, and it doesn’t look that bad, just stings. Awoken from his trance, he moves beside me and looks over my arm. 

“You weren’t supposed to get hurt” he states, watching intently as he cleans it. 

“I wasn’t, then who was?” I question, confused by his tone. 

“N-no” he stutters. “I just mean that you shouldn’t have been hurt this way”

“You want to hurt me another way?” I tease, leaning forward a bit, giving him a little more to look at. 

“If in a sexual way is what you mean” he whispers, looking up at me with puppy eyes. I lean towards him, a hand making its way behind his neck and pulling him closer. Then I kiss him, carefully, gracefully, but he doesn’t keep it that way.

[bullet-prooflove]

Baggage: Mike Franks x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @ilovemark1951 @love-affair-with-fandoms @clarasmoon @saturnsdevilz

Ties into GIbb's Ice Queen storyline:

Revelations - Gibbs is surprised to discover a connection between you and Mike Franks.

Haunted - Mike reflects on the aftermath of Violet's death.

Mike doesn’t realise he’s saying another woman’s name in his sleep, not until he wakes up to an empty bed at fuck knows what time on a Saturday morning. Things have been going well between the two of you since he put his cards on the table, you’ve been staying over, keeping stuff at his place. He thinks you’d move in if he asked you to and he’s been thinking about it, he just needs to bury this case first.

Once that’s over he can start looking to the future, one that starts with mornings going down on you and nights wrapped up in you.  

He finds you in the kitchen, hunched over the sink scrubbing the shit out of last night’s skillet. He leans in the doorway, appreciating you for a minute, drinking you in. You’re wearing one of his t-shirts, it barely covers your ass. Your hair is pulled up into a messy bun revealing that hickey he left on the back of your neck because he’d gotten a little carried away when he was fucking you from behind against the headboard. His gaze comes to rest back on that skillet, the ferocity of your cleaning and he knows that somewhere between making love to you last night and waking up this morning he's fucked up bad.

“What did I do?” He asks you, fiddling with the buttons of his open shirt.

You pause then, dropping the skillet back into the sink before you incline your head towards him. He can see the profile of your face in the light from the kitchen window and it almost takes his breath away. He has moments like this sometimes, ones where he gets a fierce rush of emotion when he sees you. He’s forgotten how intense it can be, falling in love again, the power you give the other person when you give them a part of yourself. Mike, he would walk through fire for you if you asked him to but you never will because love is about trust, about knowing the other person has your best interests at heart even when you lose sight of your own.

“Who is Violet?” You ask and the bottom just falls out of his entire world. “You’ve been saying her name in your sleep so she must be someone important.”

 “That’s a complicated answer.” He says finally because Mike he doesn’t like to go back to that place, not if he can help it.

“Oh.” You say, picking up a cloth to dry your hands as you turn to face him. There’s a hurt in your features, an anguish he feels deep down in the depths of this bones. “Well if it’s complicated, then let me uncomplicate it for you.”

You toss the cloth at him before you head towards the bedroom. He knows what you’re doing, you’re going to pack up your stuff, leave and part of him thinks he should let you because his baggage, it’s too fucking heavy to share with anyone else.

But then he remembers Maeve’s words from the night she patched him up back then and he realises maybe it's time to start talking about this shit.

“She died.” He says as you throw your holdall onto the bed. “Violet was my fiancée and she died.”

You freeze then and Mike waits for the words to filter through, his palm rubbing over the nape of his neck as you slowly sit down on the bed.

“It was a while back...” He tells you, tilting his head away because it’s easier to tell this story if he doesn’t have to look at you. “She was…”

He can’t quite find the words to describe Violet.

Vivacious, bubbly, the life and soul of the party.

None of them seem enough.

“I loved her, I loved who I was when I was with her.”

He’d been brighter back then, less cynical. The world, it hadn’t seemed like such a dark place. He comes to sit beside you on the bed, his palms rubbing over each other as he continues his story.

“One night she went for a run, didn’t come home. I was working a shift, didn’t realise until the military police turned up looking for me.” He looks up then, his eyes meeting yours. “He hadn’t just killed her, he brutalised her too. He took something from her that even if she had lived, she would never have been able to get back.”

He sees your understanding. As a female detective in the SDPD, cases that involve sex crimes usually get delegated to you. The consensus is it’s a woman crime therefore the women are better equipped to handle it. The illusion is the victim is the only one destroyed by the crime, but rape, it has a ripple effect, it invades everyone connected to that person, it changes them.

“I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you.” You say into the silence, your hand clasping his. Your touch, it’s a lifeline in that moment, it gives him the strength to push on, to divulge the rest of the sordid story.

“It broke me.” He reveals, his voice raw with emotion. “I was a mess for long time after that, drinking, fighting, I just had to much fucking rage and I had nowhere to focus it.”

“They didn’t catch the guy?”

“No.” Mike says as he rubs the back of his hand across his eyes. “But the probie decided to go digging through the file recently and it’s generated some leads, I think we’re close, real fucking close.”

You squeeze his hand gently.

“That’s what the life lessons are about aren’t they?” You say softly. “You’re trying to make sure if anything happens…”

You trail off then and Mike nods his agreement.

“Leigh.” He says, his calloused hands encompassing your face, cradling it between them. “You are the most important thing in this world to me. When we started, it was like something inside just sparked and the part of me that had died, it came back to life. I could laugh again, breath again and that’s because of you, because of the way that you loved me.”

His forehead comes to rest upon yours, his thumbs stroking tenderly over your cheeks.

“If something happened to you I wouldn’t survive.” He murmurs against your mouth. “If I lost you like that…”

He’d follow you right into the grave, he can guarantee it.

“You won’t.” You promise him, your lips brushing over his. “With everything you’ve taught me, you’ve made sure of that.”

Love Mike? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[cristaq]

do you ever think about how Price and Soap have the same first name?. because i do.

about when they here someone call out “John” they look for the other.

about them calling each other “Johnny” when all alone.

about Price not being able to stand to hear his own name after Soaps death…

I read this just after waking up and damn you anon for making me feel stuff that early in the day! So I will give you all my name related thoughts and please do add if there’s anything missing.

I do think a lot about it, from a writer’s perspective, since I can’t write things like <“Let’s go!” John said.> because which John are we talking about?? 

Jokes aside, their names are foreshadowing Soap becoming Price. They are two sides of the same coin. Besides that, I imagine them calling each other John in their most solemn and serious moments. Otherwise, they usually resort to Price and Soap most of the time, even when in private. Since they can’t display public affection, I think that they unconsciously ended up charging these names with incredible emotion. People hear Soap, but Price actually says “Come here, love.”. People hear Price, but Soap actually says “I missed you.” These names carry a secret endearment that lets them interact as lovers even in public. So it just naturally carried over to their private life as a reminder of who they are, under what circumstances they’ve met and what they are fighting for. They don’t have to invent nauseating pet names. They are Price and Soap, but also Price (with a soft gaze) and Soap (with a sly smile). 

Exceptions are made for “old man” and “muppet”, which started as innocent teasing, but ended up as so much more. They are used to poke light fun at each other, but also as a form of endearment.

But!! In their darkest hour, when sincerity is crucial, John slips out. “John, I’m not going anywhere!” “I swear we'll make it, John!” “Wait for me, John!” It’s their way of signing a contract with blood, the firmest handshake in the world. When they hear the name out in the world, it’s very funny to see both of them turn around like two prairie dogs, one of them with half a slice of bread in his mouth. How could their fates be even more intertwined??

The death part hits hard. When Price hears John he expects someone else to turn around with him. But there is no one now. He stops answering to John. And people soon stop calling him that. I like to imagine that when Price kills Makarov, besides the “This is for Soap!” he says “This is for John!” because it is for both of them. 

[moonperil6]

Blessed by a Trickster

Chapter Eight: I Should've Tied the Imbeciles's Hands Behind Their Backs

Prev/Next

A/N: Actually kind of obsessed with this song... Anyone else???

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.12k

Listen to: Keep your friends close

You and Eurylochus just stared at each other as you processed his words. 

“Hm,” you hummed.

Eurylochus’s heart was beating too fast. His palms were getting sweaty, as was the back of his neck.

“You’re forgiven,” you decided. “At least by me. That talk with Odysseus should be fun, eh? Oh, can you help me grab a bite to eat? I can’t reach that shelf where you put the clementines.”

Eurylochus almost got whiplash from trying to follow your train of thought. He blinked once, straightening. “Of course,” he said.

So you led him down to the storage room below deck, smiling way too wide than Polites was comfortable with, even though he knew clementines were your favorite fruit.

It was unlike him, he knew, but Polites was slumped behind the pole you and Eurylochus had been standing in front of. He’d heard the whole exchange.

He sank down to the wooden floorboards, overcome by the same foreign emotion he got whenever Eurylochus approached you.

“A little problem you have with her, don’t you?”

He looked up, but there was no one in sight. “Pardon?” He asked.

The voice tsked. It sounded like a woman’s voice. “Stop speaking aloud, Polites. You’re making yourself look like a fool by talking to nobody.”

Sorry, Polites thought.

“Now, as I was saying, your predicament with Y/N is so infuriating to watch! I just have to step in. You see, me and Hermes have a bet going. You just have to win!”

Aphrodite, Polites said. What do you want from me?

“Oh how exciting a love triangle is! You see, Hermes is Y/N’s mentor, blah, blah, blah. All that boring stuff.”

Boring? He demanded the voice in his head. Hermes being Y/N’s mentor is not- wait, what?

“As I said, boring. Anyway, we started a bet. Hermes bet that Eurylochus could steal Y/N’s heart before you, but I disagree. I believe you can win her over.”

Then you are foolish, Polites thought. She will never choose me over Eurylochus.

“Oh, yes she will,” Aphrodite said. “Because of this.”

There was a sudden cold feeling in his right hand, and he opened it in surprise. Sitting in his palm was a small vile, filled with a rosy pink liquid, the same color as your cheeks when you blushed. Polites blinked at the analogy.

He brought the bottle up to his eye and inspected it. He knew what it was.

My lady, Polites thought. Didn’t you make a bet with Hermes? I’m guessing that he’ll be furious if I cheat.

Polites could almost see Aphrodite shrug in his mind. “What does it matter? This potion will only make her focus on you more. Keep her thinking of Eurylochus as only a close friend.”

Do you promise?

Aphrodite giggled. “I promise.”

And then her presence in his mind vanished as if it had never been. Polites sighed and slipped the vile into his pocket, swearing that he would only use it if something major happened between you and Eurylochus.

You and Eurylochus were laughing as you made your way back on deck, but immediately stopped as you saw Odysseus’s feet hit the deck.

Eurylochus pushed his way through the crowd of men who had gathered around Odysseus, his hand grabbing your wrist gently and tugging you after him.

“Captain, what’s happening?” Eurylochus asked. “What’s trapped in that bag?”

You looked down at said bag in surprise; you hadn’t noticed at first. 

“Something dangerous friends, we mustn’t lag,” Odysseus replied grimly, gesturing for the crew to get the ship ready.

“It’s treasure!” A couple of voices said. You frowned. You’d never heard anybody with that high pitched voice. Even Little Ajax was never that squeaky.

You took a step forward as the rest of the crew chanted, “open the bag! Let’s see what you got.”

“No, do not!” You cried, stepping in front of Odysseus in unison with Polites, smacking away a hand that was reaching for the bag.

Odysseus gave both of you a grateful look before running his hand through his hair. “Everybody listen closely,” the captain ordered. “See how this bag is closed? That’s how it’s supposed to be.” He held the bag up for everyone to see. “This bag has the storm inside. We cannot let the treasure rumor fly.”

“We’ll try,” you, Polites, and Eurylochus said, nodding.

But it wasn’t easy. It was all you could do to keep the rest of the crew at bay, and they were getting more and more confident, trying to find their way around you or Polites or Eurylochus and steal the bag.

Until one day they succeeded. 

It had been nine days, and Odysseus had reassured you that he could watch over the bag himself until you got back from grabbing a snack.

So you were just grabbing an apple from a cupboard when you heard a voice sounding startlingly like Odysseus calling, “no.”

You ran up the steps two at a time despite the pain in your injured leg. The apple you had grabbed you now carried in your jaws as you burst onto the deck. Surely they couldn’t have-?

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer!” A feminine voice sang gleefully.

There. Two men were crouched over the bag- the open bag. From it, fierce winds that could only belong to the storm you had encountered nine days ago. 

“Storm,” the men cried and your first thought was, and who do you think caused it, imbeciles?

“Where’s the storm taking us?” You heard Odysseus demand, and you tried to see the captain through the heavy rain.

“I said to keep the bag closed, but you weren’t compliant.” Now you could see it; a vague form of a woman in the clouds. Her mouth was moving. “If I had to guess, I’d say you’re headed to the Land of the Giants.”

“Help me close the bag!” Odysseus shouted, struggling to reach the sack through the winds.

You were already sliding toward the bag, deciding that it would be easier to not be thrown off the ship if you moved on your knees.

“But sir, it’s too late!” You heard Eurylochus say as you wrestled with the rope that was supposed to bind the bag closed. 

“We can save whatever wind is left to use another day! Come on!” Odysseus yelled back.

Your two friends pinned the bag closed, and you finally untangled the rope, quickly tying in back around the container. 

You stood, releasing a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding as you scanned your surroundings. Only open sea for as long as you could see.

“Y/N of Ithaca!”

Your eyes went as wide as saucers and you turned around.

“Do you know who I am?”

[bloodnikki]

I feel like Ekko on seeing Jinx for the first time in years would simply, first thing out of his mouth after the rage dies and joy is coming back, he’d just say “why?”

“Why’d I come back or why’d I left?”

“Both. Just why?” Ekko is ready to pull out his hair. She’s alive. She’s real and he can see her. He can touch her. He can smell her. She’s real and she’s here.

“I don’t know.” It’s a lie. She knows. He knows she had a reason. “I guess I didn’t want you to die.”

“Jinx.”

“Finally got the name right.” She smirks. “Ya know. While I was away, I did a bunch of stuff. I even almost got married. I know crazy but it was, just insane but whatever, I was there in my pretty dress and she was there in hers and I was like wow. Here we are.”

“I really don’t-“

“And I’m about to walk down and it hits me. She’s alive and I’m alive and both not dying or bleeding or in damage of dying. I didn’t jinx this up. I didn’t jinx it up! You get me.”

“No, not really.”

“She didn’t de and if she didn’t die maybe you wouldn’t die either.”

“Don’t laugh at me.”

“You were about ready to say ‘I do’ and play wife but you came running all the way back here to tell me they didn’t die, so I surely won’t die.”

“I… I yeah. Pretty much.”

“You want me to drop everything and just date you.”

“I never said all that! I said that-“

“Jinx! Ah, ha, you’re the most insane person I’ve ever met. Ah, ha. What if I was seeing someone?”

“I didn’t come here to date you or anything.”

“You didn’t?”

“No, of course not. That would be silly. It’s been years.”

“Yeah, five years.”

“And you’d have clearly found someone by now.”

“Clearly? You think so?”

“Of course, cuz you’re Ekko.” Jinx explains as he gets closer. “I mean I moved on and found someone. It was working really great too. Amazingly so, wedding bells and everything.”

“But you ran away thinking of me?”

“I… hmmmm. You’re taking this all wrong!” Jinx huffs. “If I knew you’d be like this, I’d have never come back. So annoying.”

“Ah, fine. Okay.” He smirks at her. It’s clear she doesn’t understand what she’s saying even when it’s so clear. She couldn’t marry that person because she wanted to be with Ekko. He could almost forgive her for that. Almost. “I’ll leave it alone.”

“Great. Anyway, now I saw you, now I go.”

“Wait! You can’t just go.” Not after she all but says she’s in love with him.

“I think I can.”

“It’s just… I thought I could spend time with an old friend. I mean… if you would like that…”

“I… I think I could. Yeah.”

[hongluboobs]

popping off so hard for new Hong Lu id because it can mean so many things if you think too much about this guy and also are incapable of separating Hong Lu from his book counterpart in any way

also he’s silly and cute and this is our first Hong Lu id 000 we’ve had in 6 months, as well as his first non season 000 :)

[fear-no-mort]

thinkign about how alone and unloved morty was for all his life and rick was the first time anyobdy ever put such an amount of intense attention and dependency onto him . and rick had a whole new family and losing them made him stop seeing the value in other people as a whole and morty was the one and first thing that woke him up

[weregonnabecoolbeans]

Okay so I am back to reading Star Wars books, and I have JUST started Shatterpoint and I already know this books is gonna be great because..

No more than a couple pages in (it’s an e-book idk how many pages in the physical copy it is..it might be the first page idk 🤷🏻‍♀️) Mace Windu expresses regret over not killing Dooku on Geonosis

He’s overthinking and stressing over that decision and why he made it

And what is one of the reasons he couldn’t bring himself to kill Dooku?

Because they were friends

Because he LOVED HIM

Yeah. You read that correctly. Mace Windu loved Count Dooku. His words. Not mine. He used the word love. They were friends before Dooku left the order and Windu admits it to himself that he could not let him go, could not separate the jedi he knew with the man in front of him.

That’s right. Mace Windu. The man whom so many fans believe is a cold and unfeeling asshole.

That man, believes that he potentially allowed his love for the Dooku that was his friend stop him from killing him.

He thinks he might’ve

allowed his emotions to cloud his judgement

and cannot get over that feeling of regret.

And that is so goddamn important to me.

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

At The Feet Of The Sun

book 2 in a slow paced high fantasy duology*

the right hand of the emperor (who is off searching for an heir) struggles with what to do after passing on his responsibilities and also discovering various pieces of information that are mindblowing to him, personally,

after adventure is thrust upon him, he travels to find His Radiancy and they go on some otherworldly adventures while growing closer and figuring out the nature of their friendship

(*there’s extra novellas & i think another book coming? duology adjacent, currently,)

[teethbomb]

mob psycho(logical horror) 100

[arionaleilani]

1. it’s my 24th birthday today, so my goal of being published by the time i’m 25 is now a one year looming monster, but i never specified what kind of published and am currently looking in various literary magazines that are recommended for writers who have yet to be published, so i’m surprisingly confident that i can make it work? and tbh even if whatever i write isn’t officially published before my 25th birthday, if i have someone in the process of being published then i’ll be happy!! no matter what though, i’m gonna try to be proud of myself for at least giving it my best shot!!

2. i honestly love that my birthday is on the ides of march because the ides of march meme shitposting is only a thing on tumblr but it also being my birthday makes it easier to like. be excited about the ides of march outside of tumblr. like even in person i can be like “it’s my birthday! i’m an ides of march babe (:” and if someone is like oh what’s that? or if they say something along the lines of oh like julius caesar? i can be like yep!! and even if it’s a small thing outside of tumblr it brings me immense enjoyment and amusement being able to bring it up off of tumblr

3. transportation situation has been very rough since june 2023 when i totalled my car, my gap insurance are being assholes and i ended up putting my foot down on the phone with them yesterday which i’m pretty proud of because i am NOT a confrontational person (something i’ve been working on this past year, so seeing some improvement with my ability to hold my ground and not be a pushover yesterday was very cool!!) i was told i’d get a response from them by friday next week no matter what, and if i don’t then friday of next week i will continue to wreak havoc upon them. but my moms car which i’ve been using since my accident broke down yesterday, hopefully it’s fixable but my parents were saying it might be done for, so trying to think of how i’m gonna get to work next week is kind of stressing me out lmao, but for now i’m just gonna focus on enjoying my birthday the best i can because i don’t want to start off being 24 with an overwhelming anxiety for something that won’t be a potential issue until monday. plus i already messaged my boss today to let her know that i’m going to do everything i can to make it work out but just so she’s in the loop and knows of the potential of me not being able to make my morning shifts (one of my coworkers said she’s more than happy to give me a ride for our afternoon shifts which does help relieve some of the stress!) and i told her i’d let her know for sure sunday so that if necessary she can have time to figure out someone to fill in for me in the mornings!

overall: life is weird and i ended being 23 yesterday with a shitty situation but a positive outlook and i am going to enjoy my first day of being 24 no matter what because honestly i fucking earned it. happy friday everyone, i hope it’s a good day for you and me both!