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craftycheetah · 2 years

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Brain and Brawn pt.8

A/n: It has been so much fun doing this collab with my bestie @endeavours-jockstrap

CW: cunnilingus, unprotected sex, loss of virginity (m), creampie, missionary position, riding, premature ejaculation, Shinsou punches a guy

Mdni pls, it's not steamy but there is smut.

Taglist: @wh0reforlevi @yes-i-am-a-sinner @kuromi-kouhai @kuromi-kartoons

Sitting in the locker room, you listened to your music to get you pumped up for the game as one of the trainers finished taping your ankles and wrists. You can do this. Our team is gonna win. Hearing the whistle blow, you and the other players walked into the open area of the locker room as Coach Kan called for a mini-meeting.

“Alright ladies, this is the big game so try to have fun out there. But you better crush them. I believe in you girls, you haven’t let me down before. Toga, try not to bite anyone this time, please.”

The blonde huffs in annoyance. “Fine…”

“Good luck out there ladies. Come on, hands in.” You all put your hands on top of each other in the middle of your circle. “Rampaging Rabbits on three.”

“One, two, three!” “Rampaging Rabbits!”

As you all filed out of the locker room, you grinned eagerly as you ran onto the court. Noticing Shinsou near the courtside, you waved at him before going to the bench. Standing in a semicircle, you listened to the play-by-play.

“Captains,” the referee calls for you and the other captain, Kaye, to stand facing each other.

“We meet again,” you smile at her, crouching into position, “Ready to lose again?”

Kay scoffs, “Not this time, beanpole.”

The whistle blows, and you easily smack the ball away from her, bouncing it across the court.

Y/N dribbled the ball up the floor and waved her hand as she crossed half-court, calling for a high pick and roll. Kendo, the center, left the paint and set herself just at the 3-point line. Y/N quickly darted to the left. Her defender crashed into Kendo while Y/N sped into the lane for an easy layup.

For the next twelve minutes, the Bees were up by 6 points. This was normal for the Rabbits. They'd trail behind in the first quarter but bounce back in the second. After the first half of the game, the score was Rabbits 51- Bees 49.

There were a couple of fouls on both ends. One of them was caused by Toga accidentally scratching one of the other team's players and then getting elbowed in the ribs as retaliation which got them placed on the bench.

Hitoshi sits right behind the barrier, keeping his eyes fixed on you and cheering his lungs out.

“Dammit, Insomniac. You’ll blow out my hearing aids,” Katsuki grumbles next to him, adjusting the devices in his ears to a suitable level.

“Sorry, I’m cheering for my girlfriend. Go, babe, go!” he yells. While waiting for a pass, you lift your shirt and wipe your face, exposing your abs and a sliver of the bottom of your sports bra, “She’s so hot.”

“Ugh, simp,” Bakugou scoffs but blushes when Ochako waves at him from across the court.

“Go bestie go!” Mina cheers on the sidelines, waving her green pom-poms over her head, “Come on you guys, we’ve got to boost morale.”

The other cheerleaders nod determinedly. “Root for the Rabbits! Ra Ra Ra!” They cheered.

Point after point being scored by both teams, Coach Kan called a time out when there were only four minutes left, using their second to last timeout of the game.

“Alright, team, we're gonna do a pick set. So Kendo, Toga, you two guard and Ochako and (Y/n) you two do what you do best.”

“Buckets?” Ochako grins.

“Buckets,” you nod.

“You think we're gonna win?”

“An infamous angry blonde Pomeranian once told me, ‘Your team is one of the best in the prefecture. There's no way you'd lose.’ I think we'll do well.”

“Yeah. Bakugou's right.”

“How'd you know it was him that said it?”

“Because he told me the same thing last week. Also, he's been yelling at us to do better, and I quote: ‘Beat those stupid Stingers' asses,’ half the game.”

Snickering at her response, you notice her swoon slightly. “Focus 'chako. Win the game then you swoon over your crush.”

Blushing at your remark, she gently slapped her cheeks to snap herself out of it before nodding. “Right!”

As the whistle blew, signaling the end of the time out.

Jirou stood on the outside with the ball in hand before throwing it to you. It narrowed down to less than thirty seconds when Shiketsu were tied with Yuuei, which they called their final timeout.

5.7 seconds left on the clock, with the Yuuei Rabbits down by one point. There's time to get a good look. No need to get greedy. Dodging her defender, she attempted to move to the far edge of the three-point line. You pivoted around and took a hard dribble towards the corner. Your defender was two steps behind, and the help defender was only 1 step behind but had a size advantage. You just needed a little bit of space. Darting towards your team's bench, you saw the chance you needed. Taking the opportunity, you made your shot at the basket.

The buzzer sounded as the ball was in mid-air... It bounced off the back of the iron, then the front, before rolling around for what felt like a full minute and a half. Your body stilled with anticipation before the ball finally rolled through the net. The crowd roared as you made your victory lap. You laugh as Ochako, Toga, Kendo, and the rest of your team practically dogpile you. By the time you fully grasped that the ball actually went in, you felt several hands smack your back and some in your hair.

“You did it!” Ochako hugs you.

“No, Ochako. We did it!” You grin, hugging the girls close, “We won!”

You laughed as your teammates congratulated you, many of them hugging and jumping on you. Looking up, you saw blue and white confetti fall down onto the court as you heard a voice laugh in your ear. In all of the commotion, the student body of the stadium broke past the barrier and rushed the court in celebration.

“You did it, babe! You won!” Hitoshi yells loud enough for you to hear. You swoon at the wide smile before your eyes widen when you look down at him. His large hands lovingly squish your cheeks together, pulling you into a kiss, and the crowd cheered even louder.

“You are not supposed to be down here.” You laugh and kiss him again.

“Whoops, got carried away. I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, baby,” you giggle as the commissioner comes down onto the court with a man wheeling the trophy on a cart.

“Ladies, gentlemen and people in and outside of Tanaka Stadium, it is my honor to present to you, your 20XX Women’s College Basketball Champions, the Yuuei Rabbits!”

The crowd cheered again as Coach Kan came out and lifted the trophy with both hands and a grin on his face.

Hitoshi hugged your waist from behind, smiling as yours never left your face. You poked him and nodded your head as you saw Katsuki kissing Ochako. Good for them.

After changing and celebrating again, Mina decided to set up an after-party to celebrate the win. Something “small” for you and your team and a few friends.

“There she is!” When you walk into the apartment with Hitoshi, Mina cheers, “Our MVP!”

She hugs you and pushes her phone in your face, “So,what’s it like being the best?”

You playfully put your hand in front of the camera, “Exhausting.”

“But you’re a winner! Come on girl, be a little excited.”

“I’m just tired.”

“You won’t be tired after we get some booze in you!”

“Can’t drink, I’m still 19. But you twenty year olds get wasted, I’ll have my own fun.”

“Come on, no one has to know.”

“I’d rather not get caught in case the cops raid the place.”

Hitoshi leads you towards the empty loveseat in the corner.

“God I’m exhausted,” you sigh and rub your neck.

Hitoshi chuckles and sits beside you, draping his arm over your shoulders, “I’m sure you are. My all star.”

“Ugh, stop,” You snort, “So cheesy.”

“Nah, you like it.” He rubs your shoulder, and you lay your head on his own.

“Thanks, ‘toshi,” you sigh. “I really needed that.”

“You’re welcome.”

After about an hour of hanging with Mina, half the basketball and cheer squad, and Hitoshi, you rolled your eyes as Shindo made his way over towards you, Hitoshi, and his best friend, Denki, who he introduced you to.

“So then I told her, if he's gonna be a dick while flirting, he's gonna be a dick while dating,” Denki laughed before getting quiet as Shindo walked over.

“Denki?” Hitoshi calls out before turning around. “Oh. Ew.”

“Nerd,” Shindo huffs at Hitoshi before turning to you. “Nerd fucker.”

“Limp dick,” you snap back.

“The fuck did you say?!”

“You heard me. Unless getting beat up made you deaf. Here, I'll say it again just in case. Limp. Dick.”

Denki snickered before reaching for his empty drink and whining loudly at you.

“Don't worry I’ll get you a new one. Babe you want one?” you ask, standing up and asking Hitoshi.

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Hey, I’m talking to you! Don’t walk away from me,” he growls, grabbing onto your arm.

Slapping him out of reflex, you glare at him as his gaze darkens. Raising his fist, Hitoshi steps in and grabs Shindo’s hand, gripping it as tight as he can.

“The hell are you doing, you fucking freak!”

A crowd slowly formed around the four of you as the music was lowered.

“Keep your hands off and away from my girlfriend.” He punches Shindo in the jaw on the last word, stunning you, Denki, and everyone around you.

“Holy shit,” Denki whispers.

“Beat his ass, insomniac!” Bakugo shouts in the crowd.

Hitoshi grabs your hand and leaves, rolling his eyes, and pushes his way through the crowd towards the front door. Making his way to his car, he hisses as you pull back on his hand. “Woah, woah, woah, we’re just gonna pretend that didn’t just happen?! You punched someone!”

Hitoshi cradles his hand, “I think I sprained my wrist.”

“We’re going back to my place, but we're talking about this. Can you even drive with your wrist like this?”

“It hurts a bit, but I should be able to.”

“Nope, I’m driving. Gimme your keys. I’d rather you not kill us before we graduate,” you hold your hand out for the keys.

Begrudgingly giving you his keys, Hitoshi climbed into the passenger seat.

Starting the car and pulling out of the curb, you make your way back to the dorms, pulling into the parking lot.

After you open your door and let Hitoshi inside, you wordlessly go to your bathroom and pull out a first-aid kit. Sitting beside him on the bed, you carefully grabbed his injured hand as he looked between it and you.

“Are you mad at me?”

“I’m just shocked. I can’t believe you! You punched him in the face, Hitoshi! Right in the jaw!”

“I don’t know what came over me. He’s always bothering you and making you feel bad and lying about you. Always causing some sort of trouble on your name, roping Tatami and her little group into it. I got tired of it. Tired of him,” Hitoshi rambles before looking down at his bandaged hand.

Placing your hand on top of his, you shut his ramblings by slotting your lips against his. “Babe, shut up,” you mumble. “That was fucking hot.”

“What?”

“Punching Shindo in the face was fucking sexy as hell. You were so, badass.”

“Really?”

“Really. Kiss me again.”

Hitoshi chuckled softly, pulling you in for another kiss. His hand moving down towards your thigh.

“Toshi?”

“Shh. This is about you. You beat those Shiketsu Stingers. I wanna treat you tonight.”

“Hitoshi, what are you saying?” “I wanna go all the way with you.”

Staring at him, you gasp at his words as his hand gently rubs up and down your thigh.

“You wanna fuck me, Hitoshi?” you tease.

“Yeah,” he blushes.

Hitoshi looks away for a sec before slightly shaking his head and kissing you again. “Did so well in the game today. Babygirl made the game winning shot. I’m so proud of you,” he murmurs, lips moving from yours down your jaw towards your neck as his hands run up your sides, slipping under your shirt.

“You’re proud of me?” you shudder.

“Really proud of you, baby. Looked so sexy on the court.”

Grinning as your breath hitches, he sucks against your pulse point.

Pulling away, he helps you take your shirt and bra off, once again mesmerized by your chest.

“So beautiful,” he mumbles.

“Don’t pass out this time,” you snicker.

“Oh, I won’t.”

His lips brushed over your neck once again, slightly teasing you. He started to suck on your skin, wanting to leave a mark and prove to the world that you’re his. He pulled back and admired your skin's blooming cherry red color as he began to leave a trail of his kisses across your neck and chest.

“Fuck, ‘toshi,” you whine.

“So gorgeous,” he mumbles, kissing the flesh of one breast as his finger’s toyed with the nipple of the other.

“Fuck, where’d you learn to, shit, do that?” “Internet.”

After a while of him paying attention to your chest, he pulled away, gently kissing your lips. “Can I…eat you out?” He mumbles.

“Yeah, okay,” you pant, watching him kiss down your stomach to your belly button and to the elastic of your sweatpants. With your help, he pulls them off you and takes a second to stare at you.

“Fuck, I love your body,” he touches your thighs, “You’re so sexy.”

You flush at the compliment, hiding your face behind your hands, “Stoooop.”

“Why should I when my girlfriend is fucking stunning. Beautiful long legs, pretty face, amazing personality. We'd be here all night listening to me compliment everything I love about you,” Hitoshi smiles, laying on his stomach between your legs.

“You’re so corny,” you laugh, scratching his scalp.

He lifts your thighs and pulls your panties off, throwing them somewhere in the room. His hot breath ghosts your folds before licking a stripe up and teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue.

You moan loudly, twisting your hand into the sheet as you try to control your breaths and the other in his hair.

Hitoshi hums between your legs, the vibrations making you shudder. Using his thumbs to spread open your lips, he dips his tongue inside, tasting you.

“Fuck! Toshi. Baby, don’t stop.”

He’s enjoying this as much as you are if his grinding against the bed was anything to base your thoughts on. His tongue slips upward, teasing your clit before wrapping his lips around it. Shinsou tentatively rolled it around in his mouth, a low moan slipping from his throat.

“So sexy,” he murmurs, pushing a finger inside.

Gasping at the feeling, you throw your head back into the pillow, moaning louder and bucking your hips faster against his face.

“Fuck, daddy. I’m gonna cum.”

Daddy? He didn’t have a Daddy kink but hearing her call him that ignited something in him. Satisfied with your reaction, he pushes another finger in and curls them upwards. As he sucks and his fingers move faster, your breath catches in your throat. Your heels dig into his back, and your toes curl, every nerve below the waist on fire. Whatever he’s been researching is doing wonders right now.

You arch your back off the bed and pull his hair when you cum, grinding your hips faster into his face. He helps you ride out your climax, slowing down his movements but not stopping. You squirm and push at his head when it gets too much, asking him to stop.

“Toshi, shit, baby, wait. ‘S too much,” you shudder.

Pulling away, he wipes his lips with the back of his hand before licking it clean.

“Internet?” Nodding with a grin, he pushes himself up onto his knees. You use your toe to poke his stomach, “Want me to return the favor?”

“I’d probably explode if you breathe on it.”

“I really got you wound up huh?”

“You’re fucking gorgeous and you love me, so yeah. You definitely do.”

“Of course I do. You’re awesome!” You hold your hands out for him. He lays on top of you so you can kiss him, clinging onto his back.

“Take this off,” you tug his shirt over his head, “You’re so pale,” you laugh while touching his chest.

“Sorry I don’t tan,” he grumbles and awkwardly pulls his jeans and boxers off.

“Are you sure about this?” You ask while he positions himself between your legs.

“Yeah, I am. I love you, and I want to be with you.”

“I love you too.”

Softly gripping himself, he lines himself up and taps on your clit a couple of times before slowly pushing in, allowing himself to get used to the feeling of your walls and for you to get used to the stretch.

“Tell me when to move, baby," he shudders, internally groaning as your velvety walls massage his member.

Pulling him in, you kiss him gently as a response. “Go ahead Daddy.”

Hitoshi groans at the name and starts thrusting as he holds your hands in his.

“Fuck, baby,” he mumbles, trying to figure out a good pace. “You feel so good. So tight and warm.”

Hitoshi placed his forehead on yours as he kept thrusting. “Shit, baby, I'm gonna cum,” he whispers, “Where—“

“Inside,” you whisper back, locking your legs behind his lower back.

With a choked gasp, he cums inside of you. His whole body was shivering like he'd been shocked.

“Fuck, I'm sorry. I tried to last longer.” He mumbles.

“It’s fine,” you giggle quietly, “It’s normal.”

He still whines from embarrassment while you rub his back soothingly, “Maybe I should be on top.”

“Sure,” he nods and slowly pulls out of you, blushing at the big glob of his cum seeping out of you.

“Oh shit, you're still hard,” you gasp, “Lay down, up here,” you pat the spot next to you.

He maneuvers himself up the bed next to you, laying down flat.

“Get ready for the ride of your life,” you grin cheekily and straddle him, “Don’t worry, I’ll go slow.”

He watches you position yourself over his cock and slowly sink down, mouth dropping the more you suck him in.

His stomach flexes when he bottoms out, and you’re fully seated on his lap, “I-I’m gonna cum again.”

“Already,” you laugh, petting over his chest, “I haven’t even done anything yet.”

“I can hold it.” He breathes.

You hum and support yourself on his shoulders and start bouncing. Hitoshi fists the sheets below him, moaning loudly.

“Easy, pretty boy. Fuck, I'm almost there. Just a little longer, I promise,” you whimper.

About five minutes after, Hitoshi grunts and starts fucking into you as you bounce, causing you both to see stars. “Fuck, I'm cumming baby!”

“Me too, Daddy. Fuck!” you cry as you both hit the peaks of your highs.

“That…that was amazing,” you laugh breathily. “I love you.”

“I love you too, all-star.”

#poc!reader #black!reader #SHINSOU HITOSHI X READER #SHINSO X READER #BNHA X BLACK!READER #BONNIE.WRITES #SHINSOU X POC!READER #X BLACK!READER #bnha x black!reader #x black reader #bnha x reader

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beccascribbles · 4 years

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hey! can i request a short fic where mattsun or tsukki has a ldr with a korean or indonesian f! s/o? the team doesnt know it, and one day she surprises him at a game? im really sorry for my bad english, have a great day/night!!

warnings - none

word count - 1.1k

a/n - sorry for how long it took me to reply. i couldn't choose between the two so i decided to do a small fic for both. i hope you enjoy!

Nervously, you glanced down at your phone again. You were in the right place; you were certain of it. Still, nerves ate at you from the inside, made you doubt what your phone was so clearly displaying to you. Swallowing, you slid your phone into your pocket and stepped into Sendai City Gymnasium.

A couple of weeks prior to your spontaneous decision to get on a plane to come and see your boyfriend, Matsukawa had told you that his team would be playing in the qualifiers for nationals. It had been a throw away comment, one that should not have made you immediately start scheming. He would have told you flying over to watch was unnecessary, to save your money for when he planned to fly over in the summer. But it was his last nationals’ qualifier and you wanted to see him play.

You had arranged it all with his parents beforehand. It had been his mother who had met you at the airport, relieving you of your bags before she gave you the address for where he was playing. And now you were here.

Scanning the noticeboard, you finally found the name of his school, along with what court they would be playing on. Glancing at the time, you figured they would probably be warming up by now. That, or the other game had gone on late and you would have to wait a moment before he turned up.

Unfortunately, it was the latter. You had poked your head around the door about to call out his name, only to not see a familiar turquoise jersey in sight. Cheeks slightly flushed, you had let the door shut and were currently leaned against the wall near it. This was not going as well as you had hoped. It would have been much easier on your part if you had actually met another member of his team that you could coordinate with. But, despite hearing about them all the time, you had yet to meet a single one. Whenever you came to visit, the time was usually dedicated to the pair of you, to making up for the distance between you, a fact you were coming to regret.

“This is getting ridiculous,” you mumbled, throwing your head back against the wall in exasperation. You were so close to calling him, surprising him be damned. With a sigh of defeat, you pulled your phone out.

“y/n?” questioned a voice from down the corridor. You looked up to be greeted by a crowd of volleyball players, your boyfriend among them. “Is that you?”

You pushed off the wall, holding your arms out and letting out a weak laugh. “Surprise!”

For a moment, he stood frozen in shock, mouth hanging agape. It was hard to believe that his girlfriend was really in front of him. After a month of not seeing you, the thought that you were in front of him now was something he could not fathom. Beside him, a young man with pink hair, who you assumed was Hanamaki, gave him a nudge, “What are you doing standing here all frozen? Go give the pretty girl a hug.”

In just a few long strides, he was in front of you, his large hands coming up to cup your face. You smiled warmly up at him, taking in his beaming face. Not hesitating, he leaned forward and brushed his lips against yours. Your fingers curled in the fabric of his jersey, pulling him in closer, urging him to kiss you for longer. However, his teammates were watching, and he had a game to play. Gently, he pulled away from you, only to wrap an arm around your waist and turn so you were facing his team together.

“Mattsun,” whined a boy with fluffy brown hair. He had a slight pout on his face. “For how long were you planning on hiding her from us? That’s so unfair. I tell you about all my girlfriends.”

A shorter boy with spikey dark hair smacked him around the back of the head. “Oi, Loserkawa, manners.”

Mouths hung open. Karasuno stood frozen in shock as they watched a figure push open the door leading to the court and sprint towards the tall middle blocker. They were even more shocked when you flung your arms around him and squeezed him tight. Begrudgingly, he hugged you back, giving your hair a light ruffle as you pulled away. The small pout on your lips made him let out a chuckle, flicking your forehead in response. The only member of the team who was not that surprised was Yamaguchi. Yes, Yamaguchi was shocked by the sudden display of affection and how Tsukishima had accepted it without comment. But the fact he had a girlfriend was not shocking to him. After all, he had caught Tsukishima texting you numerous times on his phone.

"Um, who are you?" asked Kageyama, one of the first to snap out of it. You had interrupted their warm-up and he did not appreciate his volleyball being interrupted. Hinata was quick to recover, bounding over to you to shake your hand.

"Hello!" He might as well have shouted for how quiet the greeting was. "I'm Hinata. Nice to meet you!"

"Oh, the annoying tangerine and the asshole," you observed, glancing up at Tsukishima for confirmation. He simply nodded, a smirk tugging at his lips. You took Hinata's hand and shook it enthusiastically. Projecting your voice across the gym, you introduced yourself. "Hi! I'm y/n, Tsukki's girlfriend."

Your smile faltered slightly at their confused expressions. With a glare, you looked up at your boyfriend, who was studiously ignoring your look. "I guess you had no idea I existed. I thought you were becoming less antisocial."

It was a funny sight, watching the snarky beanpole being scolded by his girlfriend. The sight finally spurred the rest of the team into action. With equal parts teasing and kindness, they all introduced themselves. For you, it was a relief to be able to put a face to the names Tsukishima mentioned in conversation.

However, while Tsukishima appreciated the surprise (he had told you later on that it was unnecessary and expensive, but that he had missed you), he was not looking forward to the grilling he would be put through by the team when he next saw them. After all, there was a reason why he had neglected to tell anyone about you, namely the nosiness of a certain grey-haired senpai and the jealous glares from a certain pair. But he could not bring himself to care about it too much at that moment, not when you were talking to him animatedly about how well he had played.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #matsukawa fluff #matsukawa x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x you #tsukishima x y/n #ft karasuno #ft seijoh #matsukawa x you #hq requests

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halorocks1214 · 5 years

Text

the law of rhythm

AO3 Link

Word Count: 5366

Summary: The Law of Rhythm states that everything vibrates and moves to certain rhythms. These rhythms establish seasons, cycles, stages of development, and patterns. Each cycle reflects the regularity of God’s universe. Masters know how to rise above negative parts of a cycle by never getting too excited or allowing negative things to penetrate their consciousness

Previous Parts (in order): Alan | You Are Here! | Gordon

just trucking along, toot de too de toooooo. ive also been sick for the past couple of days so thats been grEAT. thanks again to @gumnut-logic for the prompts. its giving me a challenge to write the stories i want to write but with a twist. that being using required words. its been fun. this time i used "I'm trying!" and hard

Warning for mentions of torture I guess

His mom used to say he needed to think of his emotions like playing the piano.

6-year-old Virgil just yelled at 5-year-old Gordon for breaking one of his favorite toys, leaving the strawberry blonde in a state of utter sorrow. While Jeff took the youngest to be consoled in another room, Lucy, nearly due with their surprise bundle, gently led Virgil over to their baby grand.

“You mentioned you wanted to know what this did, correct?”

Anger simmering below the surface, Virgil curtly nodded his head.

Lucy patted the place on the bench next to her, motherly smile working wonders on calming Virgil down. The black-haired boy reluctantly sat down next to his mom, staring at the white keys of the device he heard his mother sit at over the past couple of months. For a couple of seconds, she didn’t say anything, which prompted Virgil to look up at her face. Once she saw the chocolate eyes of her boy, she tilted her head toward the piano indicating that Virgil could touch it if he wanted to. Looking back at the mysterious object, Virgil lifted a finger and pressed down on a random place.

A ding came from the piano. Virgil would come to learn that it was Middle C.

Virgil jumped in shock while Lucy couldn’t stop her laughter. She remembered her reaction being very similar when she first touched a piano. Bringing her second-youngest child into her side, she brought her right arm around his shoulders and placed her right hand on the piano, “Here, watch this.”

Virgil’s eyes widened as his mommy pressed three keys in succession, the pitch on each going higher and higher. An arpeggio in the key of C major. Mouth open, Virgil tried repeating his mother’s actions. While he got the same pitches, the way he played the keys were much more jagged and jumpy, a slight pause in between each note signifying that the player double-checked to make sure their finger was in the right spot.

Crinkling his eyebrows in confusion, Virgil tried again more aggressively. It was the same notes, but it didn’t sound right. It didn’t sound like Mommy. Trying one more time with even more force, he was interrupted halfway through by mom’s hand gently gripping his with her whispering in his ear, “Shhh, sweetie, don’t play so hard. Just press, then let the piano do the rest.”

Nodding his head along to his mother’s words, Virgil looked back at the keys with newfound determination. With Mommy’s hand still laying over his, he took her advice to heart and let the piano do the rest. That time, the arpeggio that filled the room, while still not as polished, was much more legato than what Virgil was playing before.

Virgil was proud except for one thing, “But it’s…”

Lucille finished for him, “Quiet? That’s okay, just press a little harder.”

Virgil enthusiastically nodded his head and did as told. Once again he found himself aggressively pounding the keys with a little more force than necessary.

Lucy stopped him once more, “Virg, no--” she had to giggle a little bit, “It doesn’t take that much for a piano to be loud, honey, I promise.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. How could you be loud without being forceful? Regardless, his mommy was usually right, so he listened to her again. He played with only a little more force, but it still created a drastic change in volume. Virgil widened his eyes at the revelation.

Placing her hands on his sides and receiving childish giggles, Lucy explained in-depth what she was trying to get at, “See, Virg, think of life like playing the piano. More often than not you want to be “piano”, and while there will be times you need to be “forte,” even then, you don’t need to be so… hostile about it. The hardest blows are always delivered the softest. Soft but hard. You hear what I’m saying?”

Virgil was listening, he was, but… “How can I be the piano?”

Blinking, Lucy had to laugh once more. She was so caught up in the euphoria of her comparison, she forgot tiny Virgil didn’t know piano terminology just yet, “Oh no, sweetheart, “piano” is a term that means “quiet”, and “forte” means "loud". Those two come up a lot when learning how to play. It’s important in making your song sound even cooler.”

The stars were back in Virgil’s eyes, “Ooooooh, can I learn to play? How do I learn?”

Lucy looked at him with all the fondness she could muster, “Of course, my little black bean.”

She promptly tickled him into submission, followed quickly by happy tears. Later in the night, she would find her two youngest cuddling each other at the base of the bench, small grins indicating that there were no hard feelings leftover, and all was forgiven.

Virgil went to his first piano lesson two weeks after Alan Tracy was born.

---

Jeff was certain piano playing shouldn’t be happening at three in the morning.

Yet ringing throughout the house was the familiar Canon in D. Jeff couldn’t help but flinch at how the fast part got a little more aggressive than it probably should have. Virgil was always hit the hardest when something bad happened, yet he was always the calmest during the aftermath. Even more than Scott sometimes, which Jeff was pretty sure the eldest regretted a lot.

Around five notes were hit out of tune one after the other, followed by a groan of frustration and two hard objects hitting the keys. At the familiar clashy sound of, well, smacking the keys of a piano, Jeff went against his judgment and walked out to see his third eldest son. The engineer in question had his elbows on the piano and his head in his hands.

Stomping his feet in a way that would let Virgil know of his presence beforehand without scaring him, Jeff meandered up to the black-haired man and gently placed his hand on his shoulder, “Hey, Virg. Piano messing with you again?”

The watery chuckle from behind Virgil’s hands was a win in Jeff’s book. Virgil brought his hands away to look his father in the eyes, “You know it always does…” Virgil looked forlornly back at the shiny black of the grand.

The two men stood and sat in silence, both deep in thought and unsure of how to talk to one another. Clearly, any topic of conversation that wasn’t the obvious elephant in the room would sting, but even if they talked about the elephant all day and night, there still wouldn’t be anything for them to do about it.

Jeff needed to start somewhere, though, otherwise, he would scream, and he knew that would be bad for his body right now, “The power rack in the gym… you upgraded it?”

Virgil flinched before absorbing the question, “Oh, yeah, I decided to add some stability stuff and give it some colors. I use it the most, so I thought I could make it a little more personal. I can change it back if you--”

Jeff squeezed his son’s shoulder with a little bit of force, shutting him up, “Virg, no, that’s not why I brought it up. It’s just… why? You hated weight lifting. You were pretty determined to stay the beanpole of the family, and that’s saying something when you have a sibling like John.”

Virgil’s chuckles were more hearty that time, which meant Jeff still got it. Virgil sighed, “Yeah, you’re right, I originally wasn’t that thrilled at the prospect of getting beefy, but something happened, and I was more inclined towards the culture, in a way.”

Thinning his lips, Jeff thought he connected the dots. His son hated heavy-lifting, then, Jeff disappeared and came home to what was easily the strongest member of their family. At least it was a healthy way of dealing with grief, as long as Virgil didn’t strain himself in the process.

Virgil read his father’s thoughts loud and clear, “Dad, it wasn’t because of you going missing.” Jeff raised an eyebrow and Virgil cleared his throat, “Well, I guess a little bit of it was, but there was a different reason. It happened a couple of months after the Zero-X, I swear.”

Jeff sat down on the bench like Lucy used to and confidently spoke, “Believe me, Virgil, I have time.”

Virgil gritted his teeth. At least this was the conversation his dad was deadset on having, not anything else, “... Promise not to tell Scott or John?”

Oh no, “Uh, maybe?”

Virgil bit the bullet, “Weeelll, Scott and John weren’t taking it very well, none of us were, but they especially. Their reactions kind of hurt even more when I thought about you and how you, uh, reacted to grief… sorry.”

Jeff flinched but paid no mind. Virgil was shutting down and that’s the last thing Jeff wanted, “It’s okay, Virg, you’re not wrong. None of you boys can be wrong about those years after Luce left us.”

Taking a deep breath at the okay, Virgil started up again, “Scott had just left for the Air Force and also decided to stop calling, probably so he didn’t have to think about it, John was, actually, John was focusing on graduating high school early-- which he did, don’t let him downplay it when you talk to him about it.”

Jeff nodded and put the reminder in his back pocket.

Virgil continued to truck along, “And Grandma was out shopping, so that left me, a slightly depressed 15-year-old with a 14-year-old that didn’t want to swim anymore and a 9-year-old that stopped talking. Again.”

Jeff sharply inhaled. He would have to know more about his sons’ lives after the Zero-X, of course, but that didn’t make it easier to listen to how his sons essentially slowly self-destructed because of the man that was also causing them to self-destruct once more in the present.

Damn The Hood. When Jeff got his hands on him--

Virgil didn’t hear or sense his father’s wild emotions, too lost in his memories, “Gordon, who wanted something of yours because of obvious reasons, got Alan roped into it. Alan probably wanted something of yours too, especially since the three of us weren’t doing any comforting ourselves.”

Jeff was familiar with self-recrimination. This was slowly delving into self-hate, which was happening way more than the old father liked at the moment, “Son, from what it looks like, Scott and John and you eventually picked up the slack when you shouldn’t have needed to in the first place. Hell, you’re only a year older than Gordon! If you didn’t hold it against me, don’t hold it against yourself.”

A dark laugh came from Virgil like he didn’t believe his father. However, the way he held his eyebrows indicated he was more or less joking (hopefully), “Who says we don’t hold it against you, old man?”

Alright, Jeff had to laugh at that one. It hurt to see his boys so grown up without his help, but he couldn’t have been any more proud all the same.

Virgil then promptly soured the mood, “So, anyway, Gordon tried climbing to the top of your dresser in your study while Alan just stood right next to him. Two plus two equals two screaming brothers stuck under a dresser with only me as their savior.”

Jeff couldn’t quite stop the jump he made. Well damn, that wasn’t what he was expecting. Virgil clearly handled the situation, however, as both Gordon and Alan are-- well, were fine, plus, Scott and John apparently didn’t even know about it so there was that too.

Virgil had a grin on his face as he recounted the dark experience, “It was scary, but looking back, I can’t help but chuckle, just a little bit. Gordon full-on breaks down laughing at the memory anyway. His face had more annoyance on it than pain, really, and the squawks he let out, man, here I thought I was the potty mouth of the family.”

“Could you be any slower than a wheel-chair lift up a stairwell?!”

“I’m trying, asshole!”

Suddenly, Virgil’s laughter was dark again, “God, Alan’s account of it though, he was trapped underneath it in the other direction. His legs were incredibly still as I desperately tried getting the furniture off... I know he laughs about it now in his own, Alan-way, but… I’m pretty sure the kid experienced a pretty bad PTSD attack of... you know.”

Jeff inhaled slowly for a change. From what he’s albeit briefly heard, Alan loved snow nowadays, but for a while, the poor kid could barely go outside during the winter months. Jeff remembered finding out about it from a phone call from the school. Alan had thrown one hell of a tantrum when he refused to go outside with his peers. Jeff came and Alan jumped right from fury straight to panic and hastily explained how ”he just didn’t like it anymore.” He was worried Jeff would be disappointed in him for being scared.

Virgil’s grin was back to being cheerful, easing Jeff’s dark thoughts for the time being, “The kid wouldn’t let go of me all night, kind of how like we couldn’t get him to release Scott when we found them after the avalanche. Gordon joined in the fun just because Gordon,” Jeff snorted, “We all camped out in my room, blanket fort and all. Halfway through Back to the Future with Gordon snoring up a storm against my back and little Allie still snuggled into my “teddy bear arms” as he calls it, I realized… I wanted to protect them. I wanted to be a 'Scott' or a 'John' to the only two little brothers I had.”

Jeff felt his chest swell at the soft-spoken confession. Virgil continued with growing enthusiasm, “But I realized if I could barely lift a dresser off of them, how could I protect them from anything else? So, I worked on that and focused on more, er, “productive” means of helping someone, you know? I continued to study medical information, worked on becoming an engineer so I could fix things, getting physically stronger, et cetera. It made sense to me.”

Jeff just mindlessly nodded his head, proud of his son’s mature decision. He briefly closed his eyes to think about other eventualities, but then he abruptly opened them at the sound of Virgil starting to cry. Jeff could only keep his eyes wide as Virgil tried wiping away the damned liquid and chuckled in that way that stabbed a metaphorical knife through your heart, “I don’t think I did a good job of that recently.”

Jeff was verging on speechlessness, but not enough to where he couldn’t comfort his child, “Virg--”

It didn’t matter when the engineer didn’t even listen, “Why can’t we ever just be a full family again? Why does life hate us?”

Oh, this really was a mess.

One the father was determined to make right.

Jeff, with the sounds of cricks and cracks in his joints, stood up and firmly planted his hands on his son’s shoulders to get him to focus on his fatherly words. Pressing their foreheads together, Jeff stared intensely into those beautiful, brown eyes, “Virgil, I don’t care what that maniac said. I don't care if we have zero information to go on. We’re International Rescue. We’re getting him back.”

Virgil sighed, his breath shaky as he continued to wipe away tears, “I want to believe you, Dad, I do, but--”

Suddenly, a non-holographic voice spoke from the middle of the room gaining the two men’s attention. Looking over to where the couches were, both Jeff and Virgil full-bodily flinched at the sight.

John was anxiously standing in the living room.

Right next to an even more anxious Fuse.

“International Rescue, we… I’m not sure what I’m doing.”

---

John was fucking crazy.

On certain days when he was tired or exceptionally cranky, Virgil wondered why they put him up on ‘Five in the first place. Sure, John blew his temper the least out of all of them, and he knew how to calculate and strategize more than most computers Virgil came across, but that didn’t make him any less fucking crazy. Did Virgil even need to mention all of his insane plans before now? Sure, the man could pull them off, and he did it well, but trusting the Chaos Crew? Right now?

However, despite how much his brother could be stupid, Virgil was seeing the appeal as he hauled ass through this rickety compound containing a heat signal half the Chaos Crew gave them that was just the right kind of small to be their baby brother.

John was fucking crazy, crazy genius, and Virgil couldn’t physically love his older brother anymore right now without fear of bursting into a giant pile of pride confetti.

Scott and Gordon also were running through the compound somewhere. They knew that splitting up was the first thing the Scooby Gang did whenever they got into trouble, but they were already running on borrowed time. It was like a maze, no brother knew which route would be the fastest, and not even EOS could map it out for them. As soon as The Hood knew they were there, well, they didn’t even want to take the time to think about what Alan might have already gone through, God knows what could happen if The Hood realized he had been betrayed.

The Hood was a crime boss: crime bosses don’t take kindly to mutiny.

Frankly, that’s the least he deserved, Virgil thought darkly. The only sliver of luck the bald creep could potentially get is if the rest of the Tracys found Alan first. Soft but hard. If Virgil were to come across The Hood there were no promises to be made for what the plaid-wearing brother might d--

“---gil, Jesus, stop! You’re right next to the damn signal!”

Screeeech! Squeak! Bang! Pop! Smack-a-doodle-doo!

Surely one of those noises happened when Virgil dug his heels into the ground and smeared the bottom of his feet to stop running, but he wasn’t listening. He really couldn’t, not over the sound of the blood rushing to his ears after nothing but pure sprinting. He was right next to a doorway, some kind of storage closet with locks hastily added as an afterthought.

Leaning one arm against the wall and having one of his hands on his hips as he tried to catch his breath, Virgil had all the time in the world to examine the makeshift cage. He knew it was kind of unhealthy, but dammit, he needed his adrenaline back. What better way to rebuild his levels than to aggressively glare at an inanimate object that made his blood boil more and more every second?

If anyone deserved to be treated like an animal, it was The Damn Hood.

“--ou be able to do this by yourself? If you want us there, we can pick up the pace.”

“Yeah, we’re all in this together!” Despite the severity, the aggressive humming of a familiar High School Musical song could be heard. Everyone knew who that had to be. They still let it go. Jokes were how Gordon got through negative emotion.

An example being violent anger.

Right, the problem at hand. Shit, Virgil was usually so good at listening to everything that happened over the comms. He was really dropping the ball tonight, “N-No, I’m fine. Sorry, I just needed to catch my breath. You two should keep mapping, actually, I don’t think either John or EOS have found a way to scan the entire place just yet.”

Virgil could feel the disappointment from two different comm lines. Not that he blamed them, but he was sure his brothers didn’t blame him either. Gordon still wanted to get something in, “Right, be sure to keep us updated. We’ll be listening carefully.”

Standing up straight, Virgil stood directly in front of the door, “Actually, I think I’m going to go dark for a while.”

Gordon objected, “WH--”

Scott interrupted, “Okay.”

Gordon double objected, “--AT?”

Virgil imagined Scott’s flinch as if the older brother were in front of him right now. Regardless, the field commander spoke confidently, “We don’t know what’s in that room. The comms could be more of a hindrance than not.”

John chimed in abruptly and out of nowhere like he always does. It was graciously welcomed just as usual, “Besides, it’s not like Virgil’s going off the radar. I may only be able to see parts of the compound you mapped, but I can still see you. I can always tell when my brothers are in trouble.”

The elder brothers spoke logic and safety, and Gordon’s heavy breathing calmed considerably, “Yeah, okay. Good luck, Virge. Bring our baby home.”

Despite its redundancy, Virgil nodded, “Of course.”

Virgil felt a little selfish, but the danger of having an open comm line was only partially why he wanted to go dark. He felt bad, but in reality, he wanted a little bit of Alan to himself. Virgil knew it would be smothering from all angles when they got Alan home (which they will get), and he could easily be patient and wait for his turn to be alone with the littlest when the time came, but…

He wanted it now. It felt like water slipping through his fingers, but if he gripped hard enough, he could save just a little bit that, with love and care, could become part of a giant puddle once more. Besides… Virgil could count on one hand the similarities he and Alan had. That wasn’t bad in any capacity, and if anything, it made their bond stronger in ways the bonds they had with the others would never understand, but it did make the time they hung out considerably smaller than time with, again, the others.

Virgil and Gordon were wingmen. Virgil and Scott were each others’ best friends. Virgil and John were the voices of reason. Alan and Gordon were partners in crime. Alan and Scott were the bread of the Tracy family. Alan and John were the space bros. Virgil and Alan?...

Were endlessly supportive of each other, sure, and Alan understood that Virgil was just as viable of an option to go to for help as the rest of his brothers, but they didn’t have anything special. They had love, laughter, and memories, but other than that, they were simply brothers. That was enough, yes, of course, but Virgil wanted more, to be more.

He wanted to help plan (even more) pranks, he wanted to help with college applications (geez, when did their little bro get so old?), he wanted to sign permission slips, he wanted to be more than just ‘one of Alan’s brothers’. He wanted to hold the world in his hands for Alan too, but he couldn’t do that without Alan there.

Virgil knew Alan also wanted more for his own, youngest-related reasons. Thank fuck the world granted them a second chance. Now Virgil just had to make sure he didn’t screw this up. Taking a deep breath, Virgil used his body mass to forcibly break open the door. That was iffy. Why was it so easy to break open? The Hood clearly didn’t want to give Alan back to them. Virgil was now on high alert, which did not help the rage building in his gut in the slightest.

His heightened senses allowed him to over-examine every detail in the room. It wasn’t the worst in terms of space, but it sure as hell wasn’t the best. The bed in the corner of the room was something akin to a wooden board nailed to the wall to be lying horizontal, and, Jesus, that wasn’t a blanket, that was a bunch of paper taped together to be a big sheet! Plus, there was no pillow, and even worse, no indication of how food got in and out--

Virgil choked on the air.

On the opposite side of the cage, not that far away from the bed (tiny space, soft but hard), sat a blonde-haired boy. Those freckles nearly made Virgil fall to his knees and cry from joy alone, but those precious, blue-eyes had something in them that kept Virgil vigilant. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it wasn’t happiness. Shit, did Alan not think this was real?

Well, that response made sense. The kid looked like he had a hellish couple of weeks. There were no bruises or marks to indicate The Hood did anything physical, at least, none the family doctor could see (if The Hood did try and hide something though, hoo boy), but the eye bags he sported were veering off the edge of a cliff right into ‘Are those actually black eyes?’ Ville. Alan’s complexion had seen better days too with how closely he resembled a piece of printer paper. Trembles vaguely shook down the kid’s spine indicating a loose grip on reality. Alan was trying to hold it together, trying to convince himself not to get his hopes up.

Alright, Virgil could handle that. Time to step up and reassure the younger ones that everything was okay like the older ones always do.

Virgil moved forward.

Alan flinched because of it.

And time simply stopped.

Virgil heard his heart tear in half.

Alan.

Flinched.

The kid didn’t think this wasn’t real.

No, he knew it was real.

But he was scared because of it.

Virgil was going to throw up.

He was called “The Hood” because of his endless disguises…

No, the bastard wouldn’t-- didn’t--

Oh, he definitely did. Virgil bet ‘Two on it, pods and everything. There was no way The Fucking Hood, who had what could’ve been considered one of the most important things to the Tracy family, didn’t do something. He was an angry man out for revenge, a venomous snake, and what better way to poison Jeff than to sink his fangs into the one thing that shouldn’t have been near him in the first place.

Holy fuck.

Virgil put his hands together, placed them against his lips and inhaled sharply. Hokay, he needed to rationalize this. He wasn’t sure there was a way to logically think about a man torturing your teenage brother, but the way Virgil was originally clenching his fists at his sides in red hot, fiery anger was bringing said teenager to hysterics, so he needed a different approach.

Hands still against his mouth, Virgil slowly sunk to the floor to sit criss-cross-apple-sauce, his back stiff as a piece of metal. He was still taking calming deep breaths, but at this point, his eyes were closed and his eyebrows were scrunched together. Think, Virgil, think. Soft but hard.

With an exhale as gentle as the breeze, Virgil brought his hands to his lap and opened his eyes, both motions equally as lethargic. His grin was small and light. He remembered that one rescue in the Amazon where a rather frightened panther made its way onto ‘Two. Virgil was the only one who could calm it down before it attacked the families he was saving. It was funny in hindsight. Gordon asked if they could keep it.

Right now, Virgil really hated the irony in comparing Alan’s situation to being caged like an animal. It was poor foreshadowing on Virgil’s part. Remember the panther. Soft but hard, “You remember what you asked me for your 13th birthday? We haven’t used that racetrack in ages. You wanna help me clean it up? I worked hard on it, I’d hate for it to continue to go to waste.”

Once again, Alan flinched, but following the very well hidden swallowing of his anger, Virgil watched as the boy raised his eyebrows. It was half-confusion-half-’what kind of question was that?’ Of course, he remembered! After a grueling day of Virgil helping him with his math homework, the kid mentioned how he wanted a racecar. For his 13th birthday.

“Like, a toy?”

“No! I want a racecar!”

“So, a full-on car? One you can sit in the driver's seat and move around?”

“I want it bright red with shiny wheels and, ooh! I--”

Of course, everyone said no. Mainly because they had no place to put it, Alan’s age notwithstanding. But Virgil, who had seen John’s gift for the year, was determined to win for once. The 19-year-old had been meaning to test his engineering skills out anyway. He couldn’t make an actual car, but a go-kart, on the other hand…

The only problem, however, was that he literally had to do everything alone. Gordon was on the mainland for Olympics training, Virgil would’ve rather died than told John his plans, and he knew Scott would have said no, so, there was only uno.

He spent a week building the car, then the entire day beforehand carving out a makeshift racetrack in a part of the beach they never really went to. They never used it again after Alan’s birthday, but the look on all of his Virgil’s brothers’ faces that day was worth the exhaustion. They ranged from awe to disbelief to disproval with a hint of pride. At least Scooter gave him a hair ruffle later in the night.

Alan was so touched by it he started crying. Virgil apologized to a sobbing Alan at the same time the kid apologized from Scott’s arms. Virgil asked why. Alan just replied, “You wasted an entire day!”

Oh, Allie.

Virgil didn’t let Alan go from his arms for the rest of the day. Octopus hold was engaged, and Alan would never admit that those hugs were better than any physical gift he received.

They still are. Dammit, Alan wanted nothing more than one of Virgil’s hugs right now. Those broad shoulders could fix any problem in the world. The realization he would never get one again allowed Alan to shamelessly release one tear down his cheek.

Alan blinked a few times before realizing there was still someone else in the room. Oh shit, he was still with The Hood. Jumping out of his pants, Alan shoved himself against the wall, eyes wide and staring at the man. Alan felt sick looking at the asshole’s fake worry and concern.

Wait, it hit Alan… The Hood couldn’t have known about that story. Part of Alan’s paranoid mind was trying to convince him that the man could to prevent false hope (again), but… there was just no way. If there was anything his brothers were deadset on, it was making sure The Hood couldn’t ruin anything familial outside of the ‘Birds. Even the ‘Birds were aggressively protected as much as they physically could.

The Hood couldn’t steal memories, which meant that the person in front of him...

Virgil’s chest swelled at the recognition in his baby brother’s eyes, which were slowly getting wider and wider. Talk about holding the world in his hands. Letting out a watery chuckle, Virgil spoke at his normal volume, “Hey, bro, sight for sore eyes, much?”

Well, there was no holding back those tears now. Shakily getting up to his knees (Alan would’ve completely stood up if he could, but he was still a little weak), Alan leaped off of them into Virgil's waiting arms. Without even blinking, Virgil wrapped his muscular build all around Alan like a giant shield, shoving his face into that mop of blonde hair. Virgil inhaled the strands and trembled as he exhaled. He never thought he could do this again.

Neither could Alan, who shoved his nose into that broad shoulder and tried desperately to grab one of his wrists with his arms still around Virgil’s shoulders and failing because the middle child was just that wide. That got a laugh out of the youngest, who settled for just grabbing fistfuls of the IR uniform instead. The blue parts couldn’t be stained by tears, right?

Yeah, Virgil wasn’t sure how he could describe his and Alan’s relationship.

But whatever it was, it allowed tiny Alan to sit right in his big, teddy bear arms, and that was enough.

Soft but hard. Thanks, Mom.

#fabfivefeb #fabfivefeb2020 #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #virgil tracy #lucille tracy #lucy tracy #jeff tracy #alan tracy #my post #my fic #series: rules of alchemy

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adapted-batteries · 6 years

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The Orville season 2 ep. 1 thoughts

Man I’m so ready for this season, and ep 1 was great! I’ll put the rest of my spoilery thoughts I made as I watched under a keep reading.

Well, I figured time would’ve passed, like more than a month, but apparently season 2 just jumped right back into it, interesting.

Oh goodness more Maklan biology, Yess!! Even if it’s urination low key I wanna know everything about all the species in this universe because I’m a biologist.

Oh goodness I knew Mercer was gonna be all like “yeah third try!” and Kelly was not, oh man, hope this doesn’t go the rest of the season.

New person! Fuck why do I already ship her with Alara??? It’s been 3 seconds since she got on screen.

Hoooo boy Gordon I saw those eyes...also my good sir quit trying so hard.

OH MY GOD LOOK AT ISAAC BEING A DAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am honestly a bit surprised Ty was sticking out music lessons with Isaac, god I hope it just becomes a thing that Isaac teaches Ty all sorts of things through the season!

Wow Marcus got so tall since last season my child is a beanpole with a potty mouth apparently

Okay also I kinda want Isaac and Claire to like platonic co-parent because how cool would that be to show that kind of family set up?!?

Oh fun teenagers being idiots with alcohol

Glad to see John thriving as chief engineer and giving dating advice

Finally seeing the teacher, he seems pretty cool, and Kelly seems happy so that’s good

Meanwhile we cut to Ed “Mr. Moper” Mercer...god they should’ve had him playing sad music too to make that transition perfect

Commander Bortus trying to matchmake for Alara, lol

What the fuck mercer please control yourself about Kelly like buddy see a therapist if you’re this obsessed it’s not okay

Oh children...at least go somewhere better than a publicly used space to do your underage drinking

There are sooo many zippers on that jacket Gordon...I kind of want it though

Oh Alara I’m so sorry Dan’s who Bortus was talking about...but like they’re gonna bond by being rejected by other species aren't’ they lol

WHy IS USING BOTH HANDS TO SIP TEA A CRIME MERCER IT’S A COZY THING TO DO

OKAY POLY TRIAD WITH KELLY AND CASSIUS PLZ I’m still not over them both going for Darulio, albeit hormone induced but still

OH GOD THAT SHIT KID’S PARENTS ARE THE White Parents I hate it thanks

“Respectful my butt!” ME TOO CLAIRE ME TOO

“If you just calm down a little” Oh buddy you lost her...sorry dude like yeah you’re right, Kelly and Ed are being two idiots, but that’s not what she needs now get out of teacher mode plz

“Do you anticipate hand to hand combat” Yes Isaac Claire is gonna throw down if they keep trash talking her kid you better be on your toes

Does Alara know her way around literature?? I need more literature analysing Alara

Also man Dan don’t break out the poetry on the first date

Cassius regretting dating Kelly because he didn’t realize he was gonna be smack dab in the middle of Kelly/Ed weirdness

Oh that mom knew what her kid was up too and was in denial, I saw that

Oh my God Toba has gotten big too my goodness!

Also Kelly has a distinct type...workaholics with poorly timed/not very tasteful humor

Please tell me Ed’s type is badass ladies who are sometimes a bit too quick to the punch because I’d love that parallel

Okay new ship Dan and Gordon because he clearly loved that poem.

Well that was fun, I can’t wait for Thursday now!!!

#the orville #flynn rambles #the orville spoilers #ja'loja

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mindfulwrath · 6 years

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Stick ‘Em Up

The final prize fic for the MWDF works contest! For @southlovesowls, who requested "your take on what a heist would look like with the deputies (Geoff, jack, Jeremy, Ryan, ray) when they were outlaws."

Words: 3,509 Warnings: Casual misogyny, violence, blood & gore, alcoholism

It began, as it so often did, with a train.

"Anythin'?" Geoff asked, laid out on his belly on a rocky scarp.

"Not a puff," said Jack, squinting through her cracked spyglass. "Maybe they hit a real rockslide or somethin'."

"Or they're just late."

"Or they're just late. I'll holler if I see anythin'."

Geoff clapped her on the shoulder and shimmied back from the ledge. He dusted himself off, resettled his hat on his head, and made his way back to the wagon. It was looking more busted up than usual, long overdue for some maintenance. The horses were all hitched up a few yards away, munching saplings and farting. As Geoff approached, Gavin heaved himself up from under the wagon and trotted out to meet him.

"Hey pal," said Geoff, taking a knee to scratch him behind the ears. "You ain't comin' with us, li'l buddy."

"Yeah, I didn't so much figure I would be."

Geoff looked up. Dooley was hovering by the horses, looking awfully disappointed.

"I was talkin' to the dog," Geoff said.

"Oh," said Dooley, his cheeks reddening. "Yeah, I—I knew that."

"'Course you did."

"I did! I was—answerin' for the dog."

"Sure you were." Geoff stood up again and nudged Gavin with his foot. "Mosey on, Gavvy. Where's Ray and Ryan?"

"Two guesses," Dooley said sourly, cocking his head at the wagon.

"Can't say as I'm surprised," Geoff grumbled. "Good damn thing the train's late, or else we'd miss it. Those horses all saddled up and ready to go?"

"Yessir. Went ahead and watered 'em, too, since it's gettin' hot already."

"Good thinkin'. If it's too much longer, you might wanna walk 'em around a li'l, make sure they don't get stiff."

"Will do, Boss. Uh—you think it's gonna be too much longer?"

"Hell if I know. All the shit that's been goin' wrong lately, wouldn't surprise me if the damn train didn't show up at all."

"Train's always late."

Geoff jumped about a foot in the air and whipped around. Ray was standing right behind him, his poncho hanging crooked over his double bandoleers, a permanently sardonic expression affixed to his face.

"Jesus, Ray!" Geoff cried. "How long you been there?"

Ray shrugged. "Couple minutes," he said. "Train's always late, don't know why you're gettin' all chicken-shit about it."

"Go fuck yourself, pal," Geoff said, rolling his eyes.

"Shit, right now? All right, Mr. Boss-man sir, but it's gonna take me a couple minutes to get it up again. Hope that train's real late or else I'll be shootin' with three guns."

"Harr-harr, ain't you a goddamn riot."

"We got smoke," Jack called from the scarp.

"Awright, time to go," said Geoff. "Jack, come on back, our li'l rockslide ain't gonna hold 'em up for long!"

"Comin'!"

"Guess I better go fuck myself real quick," said Ray. He ambled off to the horses, where Dooley was making final preparations, and was joined shortly by Jack.

"Jackass," Geoff muttered. "Ryan, where the hell you at?"

Ryan popped out the back of the wagon, pulling his hair back. He flashed a grin at Geoff as he stepped down.

"He was behind you 'bout thirty seconds, at most," he said, heading for the horses, too. "If you were wonderin'."

Geoff caught his arm. Ryan hung back, expectant. There was a fresh set of bruises blooming on his neck.

"Hey, you gonna be all right?" Geoff asked, keeping his voice down.

Frowning, Ryan said, "Sure thing. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well—I don't know, just I figured you mighta been a li'l shook up after last time, that's all."

"Ain't nothin' bad happen to me. Ain't nothin' to be shook up about."

"You sure? 'Cuz I don't want you freezin' up in the middle, or God forbid, anythin' worse happenin' to you."

"I won't freeze up and won't nothin' bad happen to me," Ryan promised, patting his hand. "And even if it does, I got the ol' Kentucky Ram hisself lookin' out for me."

Geoff smoothed his mustache. "Don't get to countin' on me, now."

"No, suh, wouldn't dream of it," said Ryan. He slipped out of Geoff's grip and started off after Ray, tossing a left-handed salute over his shoulder before breaking into a jog.

Shaking his head, Geoff let out a sigh.

"Damn fool's got ten times more luck than sense," he said to himself.

"Hey, uh, Boss Ramsey?"

He turned. Dooley was back, hat in hand.

"Oh, right. Uh—stay here, make sure the wagon don't go nowhere. And keep an eye on Gavin. And the other horses. And if we get caught—"

"Come and get y'all?"

Geoff blinked, pursed his lips, and inclined his head.

"Uh, yeah," he said, rerouting from the threat he'd been about to make. "Yeah, you come and get us, if we get caught. Just don't spend too much money doin' it. And don't let Gavin get ran over or nothin', neither."

"Yessir. I'll keep an eye out."

"Two eyes, Dooley."

"Yessir."

"Good. Now go make sure nobody's gonna see that wagon."

He snapped out a salute and scurried off. Geoff joined the others. Once he'd mounted up, he pulled his bandanna over his mouth and nose.

"Awright, boys," he said. "Let's go rob us a train."

Jack shoved her way into the first-class car, her gun pressed up under the conductor's jaw. Ray whisked in behind her, drawing both revolvers before anybody could get up. Geoff came after him, and Ryan brought up the rear.

"Afternoon, folks," Geoff said to the sea of waxen faces. "I'll be conductin' y'all's holdup today. Now if everybody stays calm and quiet, won't nobody have to get hurt, and y'all can go on y'all's way not much the worse for wear."

"This is outrageous," a woman spat. She was dressed like a peacock, only ten times as frumpy. "Where is the security on this—"

"Nice hat, bitch," said Ray, and shot it off.

She screamed and dove for cover under the seats. The car erupted in a clamor of gasps and shouts. The conductor wriggled in Jack's grasp, and she dealt him a ringing smack with the butt of the gun, not quite enough to knock him out. Geoff clenched his fists and breathed deep. The longer this took, the worse it would wind up. There was bound to be security somewhere on the train, U. S. Marshals or Union Pacific's own hired goons, and they'd figure out pretty quick that the Western Union car wasn't the one being hit.

Especially if there was any more gunfire.

"And let that be a lesson to y'all!" he called out, raising his voice to be heard over the clamor. "Next dumbass who talks outta turn is gonna get shot! Now my associate here—" He tipped his head at Ryan— "is gonna come down the aisle, and y'all are gonna hand over any valuables you got to hand, and then we'll be on our way."

"Everybody get up, c'mon, get off those doughy asses," said Ray, gesturing with his guns. Ryan took out the first burlap sack and offered it to the first seat on the left—an elderly couple, the man nervously wiping his glasses and the woman clutching her pearls.

"We'd be ever so much obliged if y'all could donate t' our cause," he said, sweet as a peach. "We won't take nothin' essential, such as your spectacles, suh—but ma'am, I think you will most likely survive without that necklace. C'mon, now, divest yourselves of your worldly wealth."

With trembling hands, they complied. Ray paced up and down the aisle like a coyote trapped between two fences. Geoff watched the passengers as they took off their watches and jewelry, keen for any hint of a weapon.

"Thank you kindly," Ryan said to the elderly couple. "Just think of it this way: the Bible says it's well nigh impossible for a rich man to get into Heaven. We're doin' y'all's immortal souls a favor. Have a blessed day, now."

He moved on, keeping up a running litany of platitudes in that soothing voice. The bag filled steadily. The conductor fidgeted. Jack kneed him in the leg, warning.

"Boss, they're startin' to get suspicious," she said, with her eyes on something out the window. "We better keep this short."

"Kid!" Geoff snapped. "Quit proselytizin' and get the damn money!"

"Oh, yessuh, so sorry, suh," Ryan effused. He rounded on the next pair like a rabid dog, snarling, "Put the fuckin' money in the bag!"

The two young women yelped and shoved their valuables into the bag. Ryan tipped his hat to them, grinning under his bandanna, before moving on.

The car filled with a low murmur, frightened glances tossed back and forth across the aisle. Geoff drummed his fingers on the butt of his revolver, watching, waiting, praying. A bead of sweat crawled down his back. He caught Ray's eye as he paced up the aisle and flicked a glance out the window. Ray followed his gaze, and his face hardened.

Vagabond's gonna get y'all.

Geoff's blood ran cold. The voice had come from nowhere, low and vicious and hateful, like a diamondback creeping underfoot—

"Who the fuck said that?" Ray snarled, whipping around with both revolvers. The whole car ducked, amidst muffled screams and cursing—all except one man, tall as a pine tree with a mustache like an oil slick and eyes like steel.

"I did," he said—or more squeaked, because both Ray's guns were pointing at him now.

"You wanna say it again to my fuckin' face?" Ray asked, walking up to him.

The man gulped. Towards the back of the car, Ryan tied up the burlap sack and hung it on his belt. Instead of starting to fill the other one, though, he eased out his gun.

"Naw, c'mon, say it again," said Ray. "Make my fuckin' day, you beanpole-lookin' ass bitch. Say it so's everybody can hear you."

With a great mustering of grit, the man said, "The Vagabond is gonna get y'all."

"Theeee Vagabond!" Ray hollered, and laughed. "Dumbass. You think the fuckin' tooth fairy's gonna show up, too?"

"Maybe not today," said the man. "Maybe not tomorrow. But y'all's day is comin'."

"How 'bout in the next ten seconds?" Ray asked.

"Don't you do it," Geoff hissed. Ryan was watching, quiet and curious. His finger was on the trigger of his gun, ready to pull. The goons down by the Western Union car had gathered together and were making eyes in their direction.

"Six," Ray said. "Five. Four. Three. Where's he at, hombre? Two. One and a half! Vagabond, hey, you dumb bitch, come get me!"

"Don't you do it, Ray!"

"One. Zero. Sorry, hombre, looks like he ain't comin'."

BANG. BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG.

The man's body jiggled like a pudding before collapsing in a puddle of blood. There were more screams. Ray blew the smoke off his revolver, popped it open and tipped the casings out.

"Anybody else got somethin' stupid to say?" he asked, reloading. "'Cuz I got a whole 'nother gun and a shitload more bullets."

Nobody said a goddamn word.

"Fine. Hand over all the fuckin' money and jewelry you got, and I prob'ly won't shoot nobody else."

"Fuck!" Jack spat. She shoved the conductor to the ground, kicked open the car's door, and took a potshot down the train. Somebody shot back. "Boss, we gotta go, now!"

Geoff grabbed her by the arms and hauled her into the aisle. Ray leapt up into the dead man's seat and shot out the window.

"Go, go!" Geoff said, pushing Jack down the aisle. He whipped out his gun and set his back against hers, keeping an eye on the passengers. "Well folks, it's been real fun, but we gotta be headin' on now! Thanks much for y'all's generosity, and have a good trip!"

Ray emptied his revolver and swapped out for the other one. A bullet smashed through the window in front of him, spraying glass. He flinched, cursed, and shot back.

"Get the kid out," Geoff said to Jack. "Ray! C'mon, we're leavin'!"

"I'm comin'!" Ray snapped. He reloaded one revolver one-handed from his bandoleer while he kept shooting with the other one.

"Don't wait for us, just go," Jack said to Ryan. "They're gonna shoot, but you just ride."

She ushered him out the door, pausing only to yank the purse out of a man's hand on her way out. Geoff backed towards the door, one eye on Ray and one on the passengers.

"Ray!"

He leapt down and dashed for the door. Geoff bolted for the horses. Jack was already mounted up. Ryan's horse was kicking up a fuss, dancing and tossing its head. Geoff snagged its reins and it nearly yanked him off his feet.

"Shit, fuck, goddammit—"

A gunshot snapped out behind them. Geoff whipped around. Ray was backing out of the train car, reloading again. A window exploded. Ray shot back before the glass even hit the ground.

"Put him on my horse!" he yelled over his shoulder.

"You don't—"

Ray fired off another couple shots before sprinting to them. He grabbed Ryan around the waist and threw him up onto his own horse. Ryan scrambled to get situated. Ray jumped up after him and sat down backwards. He popped off another volley towards the train cars.

A pair of hulking enforcers clambered out from between the cars farther down the line. Geoff dashed to his horse, firing from the hip. They ducked back, but as soon as he stopped shooting, they popped out again. Geoff leapt into the saddle and wheeled his horse around.

"Let's go, move, move!"

They lit out like bats out of hell. Bullets whizzed by, muzzle flashes lit up the clouds of dust behind them. Ray dropped to one gun, keeping his elbow locked through Ryan's to stay on the horse. A bullet smacked into Jack's horse and it screamed, tumbling into the dust. Ray tried to jump off after her. Ryan didn't let him.

"Sonnuva—"

"I got her!" Geoff shouted, doubling back. "Y'all go, I got her!"

She was on her feet and shooting by the time he got there. He heaved her up onto his horse. One of the goons had grabbed Ryan's abandoned horse and was riding after them, hellbent.

"Take us under the scarp, I got an idea," Jack said. Geoff kicked his horse and shouted. Ryan and Ray started up the switchback trail up to their encampment. A bullet whizzed past his ear.

"Come on, Blue, come on!" he said, leaning down over the horse's neck. Jack shot back at their pursuer, missing every shot. "Is he gainin'?"

"Of course he's gainin', just keep goin'!"

"Where the hell—"

"Just keep goin'!"

The horse's flanks heaved. Foam flecked its mouth. Dust covered everything. Geoff's ears rang with gunfire. He glanced back over his shoulder. The goon was bearing down on them, gun drawn, teeth bared—

CRACK.

He toppled sideways out of the saddle, bounced, rolled, and did not get up.

"Yeehaw!" Jack cried, punching the air. "Atta boy! C'mon, Geoff, let's get that dumbass horse back."

Geoff reigned in. Jack hopped down. While she hurried back to catch Ryan's horse, Geoff shaded his eyes and looked up to the ridge.

A familiar, poncho-clad silhouette raised a carbine rifle in salute.

Geoff flipped it off.

"Awright, Ray," said Geoff, dropping himself down next to the campfire. "What in the goddamn hell is wrong with you?"

Ray looked up from his dinner. The sun had set, and they'd thrown together a little camp about fifteen miles from the railroad. Firelight danced off of slender pines, and the glittering haul from the robbery. The smell of cooked meat and pine straw filled the air. Dooley was off tending to the horses, and Jack was walking Gavin around to keep him from getting into the food. Ryan had settled in a ways off, absorbed in his whittling.

"What?" said Ray.

"You know what. Back at the train."

"Thought I was savin' y'all's lives. You're welcome."

"It wouldn't've been needed if you hadn't started shootin'!"

Ray shrugged. "Sometimes a bitch needs killin'."

"No, he didn't. And you ain't have to go out on that whole damn monologue, neither."

"Oh, all right, yeah, so that's what you're all fucked up about," said Ray, rolling his eyes. "Grow a pair, Ramsey."

"Maybe on the day you grow some common goddamn sense, you trigger-happy fuck! Maybe on the day you learn to keep your fuckin' mouth shut!"

"Suck my dick, you don't pay me enough to keep quiet. You know what you do pay me for? To shoot folks. Sorry for doin' my fuckin' job, I guess."

Gavin came trotting up from the darkness, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. He climbed into Geoff's lap and tried to lick his face. Geoff shoved him off.

"Get the fuck outta here," he snapped, before returning to Ray. "It ain't your job to shoot first. It is your job to shoot second, once they're already shootin' at us. It sure as hell ain't your job to go engagin' in dumbass stunts like the one you pulled in there!"

"Fine, fuck you, whatever. Next time I'll let the motherfuckers ride your bitch ass down, how'd you like that?"

"Ray," Geoff growled.

"C'mon, now, Boss, ain't no call to get worked up about it," Ryan said. His eyes were on his hands, his voice casual. "Even if the Vagabond's real, it ain't like he was there to hear it."

"I don't got a problem with Ray disrespectin' the Vagabond, Ryan, I got a problem with him fillin' folks with lead just for openin' their damn mouths!"

"Oh, sure," said Ryan. "S'pose that's the reason you been lookin' over your shoulder all evenin', too."

"Marshals," said Geoff, heat rising to his cheeks. "Could be the Marshals are gonna come after us."

"Geoff, it's all right," Jack said, coming up and settling down by the fire. "Ryan's right, there ain't no call to get worked up about it. Gavin and I been all over hell and gone, and there's nobody out here but us. We got our cash, we got away, we're all in one piece—that's a good day!"

Geoff wiggled his mustache. He folded his arms and heaved a sigh.

"Fine," he grumbled. "Good job, everybody. We'll head on for Osceola in the mornin', see if we can't get this shit pawned off. How much we got in cash, meantime?"

"'Bout twenty bucks," said Ray. He tossed the remainder of his cooked rabbit to Gavin, who snapped it up in a heartbeat.

"Ain't great, but it'll hold us for a while," said Jack. "We'll prob'ly get twice that from the jewelry."

"Might almost cover the cost of ammo," Geoff muttered. "Gonna need another horse, too."

Ray got up, licking his fingers. He went over to Ryan and pulled on his hair.

"Hey," he said.

"Hm?" said Ryan, looking up at him.

"C'mon, I need some goddamn unwindin'."

Ryan smiled and put his knife away. "Sure thing, honey."

With another, rougher pull on Ryan's hair, Ray stalked away into the woods. Ryan blew the wood chips off his whittling, stuck it in his pocket, and followed.

With the two of them gone, quiet descended. Gavin slunk over again and sniffed around Geoff's face, looking for more rabbit. Geoff scratched him behind the ears absently.

"You all right, Geoff?" Jack asked.

"I don't know," Geoff sighed. "I don't know. I'm startin' to wonder if maybe...."

"Maybe what?"

He shook his head. Gavin climbed up into his lap and sat down, despite the fact that he was two sizes too big for it. He licked Geoff's ear, tail thumping hopefully.

"Maybe it oughtta have stayed just us," Geoff said.

"What, and set those funny fuckers loose on the world?" said Jack. "Hell naw. We'll temper 'em down in time, just needs a li'l more workin'. Ryan's already got Ray about half as hot as he used to be."

"Yeah, I guess."

Another, longer silence, filled with the crackling of the fire and the distant snorting and nickering of the horses as Dooley brushed them down. The exhaustion was catching up with Geoff, laying heavy on his shoulders, grim and foggy in his head. His heart had not yet stopped racing. His ears had not yet stopped ringing.

It was either going to be a sleepless night, or a drunken one.

"It's all right to be scared," Jack said softly. "You got every reason."

"It ain't that I'm scared, Jack. It's that there ain't a damn thing I can do about it. So long as we're outlaws, it's ... always gonna be there. He is always gonna be there. Waitin'. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but ... someday."

"Well," Jack said slowly. "What if we wasn't outlaws?"

Geoff blinked. He tugged on Gavin's ear. He sat forward and fixed her with a look.

"I'm listenin'," he said.

#MWDFContest #mwdf #ahfic #wild west au #it feels nice to get back into the cowboysthetic #like coming home #misogyny /#violence /#blood /#gore /#alcoholism /

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cherry-kirsch · 6 years

Text

2. a patch of thistles : wishing on dandelions

ushihina || multi-chaptered || sfw || hanahaki au

It’s Suga who comes to collect him for breakfast the next morning, all bright eyed and bushy tailed.

As Ushijima follows Suga out of his room, allowing the door to click shut behind him, he suspects that he himself must look a little like he’s been dragged through a hedge backwards, seeing as he didn’t get to check his reflection in the mirror this morning. While passing the glass windows that line the opposite end of the corridor, he grimaces and immediately tries to flatten the way his hair sticks up at odd angles and curls a little, while also trying to pull up his ripped jeans.

Suga, thankfully, pretends not to notice Ushijima’s panic to look somewhat presentable, and gestures him into the dining area—where everyone’s eyes snap to him as he enters.

“Ushiwaka! ~” Tooru coos, standing up so quickly the chair scrapes backwards and makes an awful noise that causes everyone else to smack their hands over their ears. “Come over here and sit with me and Suga!” He says happily, trying to shove the tall blond out of the seat beside him, only to receive a glare. Tooru glares right back and click his tongue at him. “Now, really, Tsukki!”

Ushijima holds up a hand when Tooru turns to tell him (or order him) to do something else. “It’s alright.” He says, a faint twinge of apology in his voice. “I’ll sit with Hinata.” He continues gesturing to the table that Shouyou and his friend are sitting at before he turns to Suga. “Where can I get food?” He asks and Suga grins.

“This way,” Suga says, leading the way to a buffet-style table and grabbing both a bowl and plate for Ushijima and handing them to him when he joins his side. “It may not look like much, but the food is pretty good.”

The row of white-cotton covered tables in front of them shows everything from cereal to toast to fresh fruit, as well as a selection of fruit juices and coffees and teas. Suga immediately reaches for an instant porridge, a banana and an apple, and then picks out a fruit tea before he winks at Ushijima and returns to a sulking Tooru, leaving Ushijima to himself.

Ushijima, unsure of where to begin, makes two slices of toast, slathers them with jam and butter and makes himself a coffee before he makes his way over to Hinata’s table and sits down.

Shouyou looks up from picking idly at his bowl of cereal and gives Ushijima a tired smile. “G’morning, Ushi.” He manages before he slumps face-first onto the table. “I’m so tired!” he moans, tugging at the sleeve of Ushijima’s plaid as he tries to shove his toast in his mouth.

“What time did you go to bed?” Ushijima asks him, his voice mumbled through the food in his mouth.

Shouyou and his friend make eye contact and have an entire conversation in a second, with only looking into each other’s eyes, before he turns back to Ushijima and tries not to look sheepish. “3 am.” He mumbles, pressing his face back into the plastic of the table.

Ushijima frowns. “You should go to bed earlier. Then you’ll be more awake.” He tells Shouyou, who groans and pulls himself up onto his elbows.

“But where’s the fun in that?” He asks with a small pout, before his eyes drop down to the mug clasped in Ushijima’s hands. “Ohh! Give me half of your coffee!” He says excitedly, already making grabby hands at it before Ushijima places his palm on the middle of Shouyou’s forehead and pushes him back into his seat.

“No.” Ushijima says simply, not yet moving his hand from where they rest on Shouyou’s forehead. “It’s mine.”

Shouyou makes a small noise of indignation and tries to surge forward again, only for Ushijima to push him back into his seat. “Why not? It’s a big mug! You can’t drink it all on your own.”

Ushijima makes direct eye contact with Shouyou. “Yes I can.”

Shouyou gives him puppy-dog eyes and claps his wrist. “A quarter of your coffee?”

“No.”

“A sip of your coffee?” Shouyou asks desperately and Ushijima considers this.

Finding himself weakening at Shouyou’s puppy-dog eyes, he gives a small shrug and holds out the mug for Shouyou to take, releasing his forehead and leaning back in his seat. Shouyou’s friend looks up at him and frowns a little in a way that makes Ushijima feel like he’s done something very wrong.

“Don’t give him coffee.” He says, so seriously that Ushijima swears he’s being given a prophecy that holds great fate. “If you give him coffee, nothing can stop him.” Ushijima blinks at the boy and his pudding-coloured head of hair. Well, fuck, if that wasn’t the most ominous and vaguely worrying thing Ushijima had been told about a person in the last 24 hours.

But, before Ushijima can take anything back, Shouyou’s hands close around the mug of coffee and brings the blue china to his lips, taking one long, drawn out gulp that seems to be more like half the mug than a single sip before he slams it back on Ushijima’s side of the table with an almost manic grin.

“Thanks!” Shouyou chirps, way to enthusiastically.

The boy beside him sighs and turns back to his DS. “You’ve done it now.” He says quietly.

Ushijima blinks between them. “Done what?!” he asks incredulously.

Shouyou stares at him very unnervingly and Ushijima stares right back. Shouyou leans across the table, his forearms crossed and his nose almost touching Ushijima’s, and Ushijima makes a weird facial expression and leans back in his seat; trying to put as much distance as he can between Shouyou’s drilling stare.

“You’ve got toothpaste on the side of your mouth,” Shouyou says seriously before he breaks out in a grin, licks his thumb and swipes it over the toothpaste to get rid of it. “There we go! All better!” He giggles, plopping himself back down into his seat with a little bounce.

As if called by the sense of intimacy, Oikawa slides into the seat next to Ushijima, giving him a small, fake pout as he grasps his arm. “Ushiwaka! Why didn’t you want to come sit with me?”

Ushijima gives him a very dry look. “Why would I want to come sit with you?”

Tooru punches him jokingly (and a little bit too harshly) in the shoulder. “Because we’re friends, stupid!” Tooru laughs. “And all of us fucked up, unrequited love-sters need to stick together. Side by side.” To make his point, Tooru presses so close to Ushijima that he’s practically on his lap.

Ushijima pushes him gently away. “I’d rather not.” He says and Tooru pouts, turns away and rests his chin on top of his hands.

“Most people rather would when I’m involved.” Tooru says with a pointed, mischievous grin, leaning up to poke Ushijima’s cheek. “Because I’m so devilishly handsome.”

Shouyou sticks his tongue out at Tooru. “Devilishly annoying more like.” He pipes up.

“Says you.” Tooru bites back. “You’re so small… and… tiny.”

“Stop using different words that have the same meaning!” Shouyou says, and an approaching blond has to prevent him from launching himself across the table at Tooru, who is taunting him and sticking his tongue out. “Let go of me you weird beanpole!”

The blond drops him back into his seat and slides into the seat to the right of him. “Says the toddler.” He replies, immediately picking up an apple from Shouyou’s tray and taking a big bite of it.

Shouyou snatches it from his hand and licks it. “Eating apples makes you look like an even bigger asshole than you were before, Kei.” He says, sticking his tongue out at him as Kei looks on, disgusted. He offers the apple again. “Do you want this back?” He asks.

Kei glares. “Not now that you’ve slavered all over it.” He says and Shouyou grins triumphantly.

“Thought so,” he says, and he shoves the apple into his own mouth. “Sweet revenge.”

Kei looks disgusted and turns to Ushijima, thrusting out his hand just as Ushijima shoves his other slice of toast into his mouth.

“My name is Tsukishima Kei,” Kei says. “One of the only dignified people here.”

Tooru pouts. “Why have you go to be so mean, Tsukki! Nobody else is going around sprinkling salt into pleasant conversation.” He says with a little huff. “The rest of us are being polite and civilised members of society!”

Kei makes a face at him. “Say’s the guy who’s practically salivating over Mr. Japan here.” He says, jabbing a thumb in Ushijima’s direction, and Ushijima immediately chokes on his toast.

“What?” Ushijima asks hoarsely before he gulps down the rest of his coffee in order to clear his throat. “My name is Ushijima Wakatoshi. Where’d you get Japan from?”

Kei waves a hand dismissively. “Unimportant.”

“Au contraire, Tsukki!” Tooru butts in with a mischievous glint in his eye. “It’s very important.”

“Just go back to drooling over Japan’s rippling biceps and toned abs.” Kei tells him with a curt nod.

Immediately, Tooru breaks out into a grin and presses himself against Ushijima’s side, replying with a chipper, “Okay!”.

Ushijima shakes him off, much to Tooru’s dismay, and he looks between Kei and Tooru. “I never agreed to that.” He says and Kei just rolls his eyes at him. “I don’t want anybody drooling over my body, I’m a person not a pair of walking abs.” While Tooru mutters a barely audible, ‘Hmm… Debatable.’, Kei leans across the table with a smirk and asks, very uncharacteristically sweetly; ‘Why? Do you have a girlfriend or something?’

“Or a boyfriend,” Tooru adds, resting his elbows on the table in front of him to resume the gossip pose. “We’re all gay here.”

The pudding-haired man barely looks up from his DS. “If you have a girlfriend you’d be the token straight.” He says and Shouyou grins.

“Token straight! Token straight! Token strai—” Shouyou begins to chant before he’s cut off by a raven haired girl sliding into the seat next to Tooru, who shoves a croissant in his mouth to get him to shut up. He doesn’t protest, but chews thoughtfully.

“No,” She says with a small shake of her head. “That’s Tanaka.”

Ushijima suddenly feels very out of his depth. “Tanaka?” he asks and the girl looks over to him.

“Tanaka Ryuunosuke,” The girl answers, carefully tucking her hair behind her ear. “He’s Saeko’s little brother. He comes here to flirt with a girl who is on nursing staff on a regular basis.”

Shouyou frowns. “But Tanaka’s bisexual, he told me himself.” He says and the woman gives a small shrug and turns back to Ushijima.

“I guess so, then—Ushijima, you’re reinstated as token straight.” She tells him before she daintily holds out a hand for him to shake. “I’m Shimizu Kiyoko. It’s a pleasure.” She says as he takes her hand and shakes it loosely.

“I’ve always wanted to be friends with a straight man,” Shouyou says a little too enthusiastically for Ushijima’s liking. “I’ve always wondered what straight sex is like. So, tell me, is it really as cringey as it is in porn?” He asks, peering at Ushijima with wide, curious eyes.

Ushijima stares back at him. “What are you doing?” He asks, feeling very perplexed.

“Subverting the gay-best-friend trope,” Shouyou says with a small smile. “You’re now my straight best friend.”

“But I’m not straight.” Ushijima says slowly and Shouyou blinks at him for a moment.

He frowns then, resting his chin on his hands as he looks to Kei. “By all accounts,” Shouyou begins as Kei nods along. “It doesn’t make sense.”

Tooru grins triumphantly, and with so much glee that for anybody who didn’t know the context of the situation it would look like he’s just won the lottery. “Oh,” he says, pressing himself more firmly against Ushijima’s side. “I think it does.”

Kei raises an eyebrow and looks to Tooru. “I guess we are all gay here.” He says and then his eyes snap to Shouyou. “And don’t chant that, for God’s sake.” He continues and Shouyou slumps onto the table, dejected.

“One of us.” The pudding-head says and Shouyou’s head snaps up.

Kei grits his teeth. “Don’t, Kenma.”

Kenma ignores him. “One of us.” He repeats and a grin stretches Shouyou’s lips.

“Don’t.” Kiyoko says in warning to Shouyou, who just ignores her.

“One of us! One of us! One of u—” Shouyou chants, only to be cut off my Tooru leaning across the table to shove an entire orange into his mouth. Shouyou, once more, doesn’t protest, but removes it from his mouth so he can peel it and eat it segment by segment; leaving him pleasantly quiet and content.

Tooru grins and breathes in deeply. “There,” he says. “Much better.”

“Incorrect.” Kenma says. “You’re still talking.”

By the look on Tooru’s face you would’ve guessed that Kenma just stood on his tail. “Kenma!” Tooru gasps, aghast at Kenma’s reply. “That’s so… so… rude! I’m a national treasure!”

This time, it’s Kei’s turn to give Tooru a look and add, “Debatable.”, in reply. Tooru looks like he’s going to melt into a puddle on the floor like the Wicked Witch of the West.

Kiyoko rolls her eyes and leans across the table for Shouyou’s carton of milk and pauses halfway to reaching for it, she looks down at Ushijima and then back up to meet his eyes, and then, very seriously, she says; “Your fly is undone, Ushijima.” And the table falls deathly silent.

Immediately, Tooru’s eyes dart down to his crotch and back up, a small, wicked smile curving his lips. “Nice boxers.” He comments and that’s all the prompting Ushijima need to turn away from the table and quickly zip his fly up, his hands shaking and his neck and ears flushed red.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Kei says, gesturing to his burning ears. “It happens to the best of us.” He adds nonchalantly.

Shouyou nods furiously in agreement. “Yeah,” he says. “Once my dick popped out of my boxers and I had my fly undone. I didn’t realise until I went to the bathroom.”

Tooru nods in agreement. “Yeah! The same thing happened to me.”

Kiyoko sips on her milk carton and shrugs. “Can’t relate.” She adds.

Shouyou finds Ushijima sitting down opposite the flower mural, and has no idea how he managed to find him after he disappeared without a word after lunch. But he just gives Ushijima a soft smile and sits next to him, his knees tugged to his chest and his arms wrapped around them, his head on his knees.

“Suga saw you,” Shouyou says. “He thought you might need company.”

Ushijima turns to Shouyou and considers this. “Why didn’t he come?” He asks.

“As much as Suga seems like the Team Mum, he’s very hard on tough love.” Shouyou explains with a chuckle. “Me? Not so much. He said you looked funny so I came to keep you company.”

Nodding, Ushijima turns back to the mural. “I see.”

“What’s wrong?” Shouyou asks, and Ushijima can’t remember ever being asked that with so much sincerity and concern. “Was it because of breakfast? Kiyoko tends to be a little blunt, but she means well, and she told me to tell you that she’s sorry because we couldn’t find you. There’s no need to be embarrassed about it.”

“I’m not embarrassed.” Ushijima says far too harshly to be convincing, but Shouyou nods anyway and scuffs the toe of his shoe on the linoleum. “It’s…” He gestures to the mural in front of him. “How can you stand it?”

Shouyou looks between the mural and Ushijima, frowning. “What?” he asks.

“The flowers.” Ushijima bites back, glaring furiously at the colourful petals and green stems, and how they swim before him in a river of red. “You’ve got them everywhere, and you’ve got to stare at them and look at them. Takeda says that some of you love them again, and I don’t…” Ushijima sucks in a deep breath, trying to swallow down his anger. “I don’t… get it.”

Shouyou blinks at him and then curls over himself. “Suga loves flowers.” He says quietly.

“Which were his?” Ushijima asks quickly and Shouyou gives him a worried look.

“Ushijima—” He begins with a small sigh and Ushijima’s eyes snap to his.

“Which were his?’ He repeats more firmly, standing up.

Crumbling, giving in, Shouyou points to the mural. Ushijima follows the line of his finger, walking forward as his eyes meet a cluster of pink peonies and daisies. He imagines coughing them up, petal after petal, until he’s almost gagging on the paper-thin, smooth pink petals. He images the scratch of the stems making its way up his throat, the way his lips can’t quite open far enough to let the head of the flower pass, and he imagines coughing, choking on it, drowning from the inside out on beautiful flowers. He imagines that the daisies come out easier.

He lifts a hand to clutch his throat and turns back to Shouyou, hoarse. “Which ones were Kiyoko’s?”

Shouyou stands with him then, his eyes creased in worry. “Ushijima, I don’t think—” He begins, only to be cut off by Ushijima’s glance; a pitiful combination of desperation and danger. His hands shaking, he points to the right of the peonies. “Those ones.”

His eyes meet the bright hues of yellow tulips, sweetpeas and crocus. He imagines the three flowers choking him, drowning his lungs in stems, leaves and colourful petals. They stain his lips like bright blood as he coughs them up, blood splatters his hands and the sink below him, and he heaves, trying to force the flowers up his windpipe.

As if possessed, he lifts his other hand to his throat. “Tooru’s?” he asks and Shouyou points to a crying cherry blossom tree surrounded by poppies.

The branches scratch his throat raw as he coughs up tiny, love-heart pink petals and wider, round red petals; the branches hurt so much he gasps, wheezes and heaves, suffocating, they pierce his throat almost like thorns. The poppies are easier, they slip out covered in blood and saliva, and he hardly gets a breath before the next waterfall of cherry blossom blooms are making their way up his throat,

“Kenma’s?”

Shouyou points wordlessly to a small collection of lilac’s and pansies. So… small that Ushijima can imagine suffocating on them easily.

“Kei’s.” He manages, less of a question and more of a demand now, and Shouyou points to baby’s breath, pink begonias, and white heather.

Ushijima nods at that, overwhelmed at the imagines sensation of the flowers and stems making their way up his throat and spilling from between his fingers like water, and staggers back against the wall, hardly realising the tears that leak down his cheeks until Shouyou is wiping them away with the sleeve of his jumper.

“I don’t…” Ushijima tries to say, only to be cut off by the saltiness of his own tears. “I don’t… get it.” He repeats. “You can look at them and see beauty. I look at them and I want to cut them like they cut me.” He manages, lifting his hands from his throat to tangle in his hair. “How can you not look at them and feel them suffocating you?”

Shouyou gives him a very serious look. “Do you still love the person you fell in love with?” He asks.

Ushijima shakes his head. “No,” he chokes out. “But I still feel like I’m drowning. Do you know what he gave me when he came to visit me in hospital?” Ushijima asks with a bitter, tearful laugh. “Red roses. Red roses. I don’t love him, I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.” He spits the words out like venom. “I hate… I hate…”

“I know,” Shouyou says softly, clutching Ushijima’s arms. “It hurts to fall in love with best friends. It hurts… to love. The lucky ones only get heartache. The unlucky ones get to choke on flowers."

Ushijima pressed his forehead against Shouyou’s chest. “I hate. I hate.” He mumbles into the sweet, lavender scented fabric of his sweatshirt. “I hate him.”

“He’s your best friend,” Shouyou says softly, sadly. “You can say you hate him all you want, but you can never force yourself to hate him. Trust me, I know. You get stuck on fake feeling so much that you’re not really sure that anything is real, and then you don’t feel anything.”

Ushijima buries his face further into Shouyou’s sweatshirt. “You know a lot about this.” He says quietly. “Is this the first time you’ve had Hanahaki?”

“I don’t talk about my past loves a lot,” Shouyou says. “You’ll never find out.”

Ushijima sniffs. “Is that a challenge?”

“If you want it to be.” Shouyou replies easily and with a hint of a grin in his voice. “Do you really hate the mural that much? Do you really… not see the beauty in the flowers?” He asks softly.

“Flowers… aren’t beautiful to me.” Ushijima whispers. “I never really liked them. They spread pollen everywhere and drop petals onto the ground, they’re a hassle to clean up. But after coughing up roses, petal after petal, flower after flower… I look at them… and all I can see is… something ugly.”

Shouyou runs his hand through Ushijima’s hair. “We painted that mural because Tooru and Suga thought it would be cathartic.” He explains. “It helped Suga, he got over his Hanahaki without a second bout. Tooru… I don’t know if it helped that much, but he’s always found flowers pretty. Kei did it because Tooru made him. Kiyoko did it because she loved—loves—the girl whose flowers she coughed up. Kenma...” Shouyou lets out a low chuckle. “I made Kenma paint his flowers.”

Ushijima pulls away from Shouyou’s sweet scent and gazes up into his eyes. “How long have you been here?” Ushijima asks him and Shouyou grins.

“Not telling.” He says. “You’ll have to guess that too.”

“So secretive for such an open guy.” Ushijima says and Shouyou grins harder.

“I’m getting déjà vu.” He says and Ushijima chuckles.

Shouyou lowers himself back beside Ushijima, leaning comfortably into his arm. “I love flowers.” Shouyou says softly. “But only the ones I haven’t coughed up.”

Ushijima looks at him. “Which ones are you favourites?” He asks and Shouyou considers this.

“Sunflowers,” He decides after a moment, smiling at Ushijima. “Because you can roast and eat the seeds.”

Ushijima reaches out to ruffle Shouyou’s hair with a small, barely-there smile. “They suit you.” He says and Shouyou grins wider and leans into his touch a little bit.

“Yeah?” He says and then he peers at Ushijima curiously. “If you had to pick; which would be your favourite?” Upon noticing Ushijima’s shocked and perplexed look, Shouyou shakes his hands in front of him. “I mean; only if you had to pick one.”

“Hibiscus.” Ushijima says after a moment of thought. “I had it in champagne at New Year’s one time. It tasted nice.”

Shouyou blinks at him for a moment and then bursts out into peals of laughter, Ushijima watches him in amusement until he’s calmed down enough to articulate himself. After a minute of solid laughter, Shouyou pulls himself back up into a sitting position and dries his eyes, still chuckling happily to himself.

Ushijima rests his elbow on his knee and smiles at him. “What’s so funny?” He asks and Shouyou’s chest moves up and down with the force of trying to swallow his laughter.

“I just—Give me a minute!” Shouyou wheezes, pressing his face into his knees before pulling back up and smacking his cheeks twice as he turns back to Ushijima, his lips immediately wobbling as he tries to prevent a wide grin. “I just think it’s funny that we both picked flowers that can be eaten.”

“That’s what you were giggling about?” Ushijima asks. “It wasn’t that funny.”

Shouyou scoffs and starts giggling again. “It was to me, and that’s what counts.” He says, looking at Ushijima very seriously. “Sometimes you’ve just got to stand up to what’s in your way, and what’s putting you down and laugh really hard until your stomach hurts and your head’s spinning.”

“Why?” Ushijima asks.

“Because things seem less scary when you do,” Shouyou says with a small nod. “Also, there’s just something very cathartic about laughing when you’re not supposed to be. It’s like… a giant middle finger to the world.”

Ushijima considers this. “There are some times when you’re not supposed to laugh.” He points out.

Shouyou frowns in confusion. “Like when?” He asks.

“Funerals, for one.” Ushijima says and Shouyou scoffs.

“Everyone needs a good laugh at a funeral.” He says.

Ushijima thinks. “When the bride is coming down the aisle at her wedding.”

Shouyou raises an eyebrow at Ushijima. “If her hair and makeup looks stupid, then I’m gonna laugh, Ushijima.” He says as if that much was obvious.

“But you shouldn’t.” Ushijima replies.

“Yes, but I will anyway.” Shouyou says confidently. “And that’s what makes it so cathartic! Laughing is the worst in that situation, but you do it anyway because you need to be less terrified and less caught up in everything. So, next time you’re upset about something or scared, just laugh, laugh until your stomach hurts; I swear you’ll feel better.”

Ushijima raises his eyebrows. “It really works?”

Shouyou nods sagely. “I swear it on my life.” He says, a hand on his heart. “Scouts Honour.”

“That’s two different things.” Ushijima points out and Shouyou shrugs.

“Double the protection on my advice.” He says and Ushijima can’t fault him on that.

“Okay,” Ushijima says. “Next time I feel upset, scared or less… here… I’ll laugh. But if it doesn’t work, I want my money back.”

Shouyou puffs his cheeks up at Ushijima and pouts. “But you didn’t pay me!” Shouyou protests as Ushijima laughs, leaning forward to pound his fists on Ushijima’s chest. “Pay me! 100 yen an hour! Don’t be stingy!”

Ushijima pulls out his pockets in front of Shouyou. “I don’t have any money.” He says. “I can’t pay you.”

Shouyou pouts and crosses his arms across his chest. “You can pay me later, and I will be reminding you of that fact!” He says, wagging a finger at Ushijima’s face.

“Alright, alright,” Ushijima gives in. “What was it? 100 yen an hour?”

“Yes,” Shouyou nods. “And dental.”

“Dental?” Ushijima says with a shake of his head. “I can’t afford that.”

“Fine,” Shouyou caves. “Free company lunches.”

Ushijima thrusts his hand out. “Deal, because you get that anyway.” He says and Shouyou grins as he takes his hand and shakes enthusiastically. “Looking forward to working with you.”

“And you, boss.” Shouyou replies, dropping Ushijima’s hand before he goes very serious. “Just… promise me one thing, okay?” He asks.

“What?” Ushijima asks.

“Don’t… do something that you’ll regret.” Shouyou tells him.

Honestly, Ushijima doesn’t think that will be possible.

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boymeetsweevil · 7 years

Text

Sleepovers with sleepy BTS

Kim Seokjin (Jin)

Really affectionate when he’s sleepy despite the fact that he’s probably pretty tame with PDA

He rests his head on the wall while you fumble with the keys to your apartment, but then he steps behind you to back-hug you and hurry you up

Continues to walk around the apartment glued to your back and occasionally rubbing his hands unconsciously across your stomach, while you turn your lights off and close windows etc.

Surprisingly, Jin sleeps in his undies year round on his days off, unless its crazy cold. But that only happened once during a winter when your heater was broken and he got so fidgety wearing the flannel that you just wrapped him in a second sheet as a compromise.

Sleeps on his tummy most of those nights, so you get access to the broad expanse of his back. His skin is usually a little pinker and warmer from the shower he took earlier and he smells like whatever Lush product you currently have in your bathroom. He smells like the color pink and that’s such a fitting thought that you just have to press kiss to the back of his neck.

On the late nights when he comes back to your place late after quickly showering at the dorms he collapses on the bed face first and starts snoring

Usually you’re also tired, so you’re tempted to leave him like that but you know it can’t be comfortable wearing the thick pullover and sweats he has on. So you wake him up to tell him you’re gonna help him and he awkwardly sticks his legs out which isn’t helpful Jinnie, but okay

In the mornings he always makes the same joke about "Jagiyah! Someone stole my clothes *windshield wiper laugh*”

Min Yoongi (Suga):

You two have your schedules/calendar apps synched

Leaves a paper bag filled with bath bombs and specific data written in chicken scratch. Your roommate is too scared of Yoongi to open the bag and always wonders if that date is the date you die

Yoongi has a key to let himself in and run the bath if your calendar says you’ll be home after him

You sometimes come into your bathroom and find him with the tub filled to the brim, steam billowing around him, with a towel on his face and taking a nap. You yell at him about water safety while you take your work clothes off and he just beckons you blindly from under the towel to come in already

AFTER THE BATH: He always wants you to get in bed first so he can flop on top of you

Uses your chest for his pillow, wedges his icy hands under you and up the back of your sleep shirt. Sometimes he composes pieces using your spine as the piano keys and you squirm because “Yoongi, that tickles”.

Wants you to tell him about your day. You always think he’s isn’t listening/fallen asleep but if you stop talking he’ll slightly move his head and slow blink up at you like a cat and give you an inquisitive look

Won’t ever ask (because he’s stubborn) but will give a low groan if you play in his hair and give your rib cage a firm squeeze as a silent ‘don’t stop’

Will snore if you scratch at the base of his neck and deny it the next morning

Jung Hoseok (JHope)

Showers at the dorm after dance practice but comes straight over to your place. He always leaves your pillows smelling really good because his shampoo is so fancyyyy

You’ll be in bed with a book or laptop or something and you’ll hear the door open and he’ll trudge over like a zombie, but he’ll have this pleased sleepy look when he sees you fold back the covers on his side

But LOL his side is your side, meaning he rolls over to lightly hook one arm around your torso and rest his head on your shoulder. He’s touchy-feely so he’d probably run his hand up and down your sides until you put a bookmark in your book or logged out of Netflix.

Will probably try to watch what you’re watching or read over your shoulder, but he gets too drowsy and goes back to just petting your sides and humming a little.

Hobi would probably whine a little until you got the hint to rub his back

Will try valiantly to stay awake so he spend as long as he can talking about how much he missed you and how the next day he has off he’s taking you to Gwangju with him to eat some food with his parents and play with Mickey

Falls asleep mid sentence. Snuffles in your ear when he’s dreaming

Installed a tiny, nondescript night light in your bedroom because

1) he’s a before-bed-water-drinker and he keeps banging his precious dancer’s toes on your furniture in the dark on the way to the bathroom

2) Probably low key scared of the dark

Kim Namjoon (Rap Monster)

Comes over for naps at random times. But mainly late nights after practice because your place is close to his favorite chicken spot and he gets late night munchies real bad

Is quite the night owl so he will want to stay awake and talk even after the chicken is gone.

Lays his head in your lap when you sit on the couch. His legs probably hang off the side.

You take off his beanie and brush your fingers through his hat-hair while he tells you about this novel he’s been trying to finish when he has free time

He yawns a lot but that doesn’t do much to interrupt his critical analysis of like the use of different fish to code for repressed sexual desires or something...

Falls asleep as soon as he isn’t talking, which is whenever he asks you what you think of the book or movie he was just waxing poetic about

At like 2:35am you poke gently at the spot where one of his dimples is to wake him up and he makes a REALLY CUTE noise and his hands fly to the waistband of your pants while he tries to bury his face in your stomach

Its really hard maneuvering his beanpole self over to your bedroom, but he moves himself onto the bed face first and that’s that.

Probably sleeps on top of the covers unless you paw at him to move so you can wrap him up.

Joon is a wild sleeper so you have to sling an arm across his chest or shoulders so that he doesn’t smack you in the middle of the night. He tries to gather you to him in the middle of the night but ends up smashing your face into his armpit. He feels bad about it when he wakes up...sometimes

Park Jimin

Is still kind of shy about making a big deal over the fact that he’s sleeping over at your place, so you drive up to the building and text him to come down

He’s really cute in that he packs an overnight bag and really excitedly jumps in the car

He smells like soap from his shower and you always laugh at his post-shower hair because its so unlike his normal perfect prince hair

Does the most graceful spin onto the middle of your bed you’ve ever seen and you wonder how he does that after 11 hours of dance practice

You stand by the side of the bed to look down at him. His cheeks are naturally rosy, but he flushes when he knows you're openly staring at him

He reaches up to take your hand and he smiles and asks if you’ll come to bed in a low tone and then its your turn to get embarrassed because he KNOWS what he’s doing

You snuggle up to his side and he puts his chin on top of your head and you hitch a thigh over one of his own and he sighs like he’s so satisfied to be there. Because he is

Park Jimin is a really beautiful sleeper. He doesn’t move much and he doesn’t snore and his face doesn’t slowly turn to mush like most people. Sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night and catch yourself staring at his pretty profile

Always wakes up with both hands clutching your butt and never has an excuse or an explanation just slowly removes them while you grin cheekily at him

Kim Taehyung (V)

Turns into a little crab cake

Like he gets really monosyllabic after practice and wordlessly holds your hand on the elevator ride up to your apartment

You let him have the shower first because he’s quick and you like to wind down with a review of what you did today and what needs to be done tomorrow.

He taps you on the shoulder when he’s done and sits in bed like an old man while he waits for you to finish. When you get back he’s in the same exact position you left him in but his eyes are blinking even slower than before

Tae gets really deep and cryptic before sleep so when you go to his side to turn off the lamp, he pulls you over so you’re sitting on his lap and he just holds you for a while

He breathes in and out really slowly and you feel it where he’s resting his face on your collarbone. It feels like the moment is gossamer thin and you almost hesitantly bring your hands up to smooth his hair

He gives you a kiss in the hollow of your throat and you carefully swing yourself over to your side of the bed. He gives you a long look and reaches for your hand again and that’s how you fall asleep

When you wake up the first thing you see is his nose mole and he’s grinning at you from his spot straddling your waist. He gives you a big square grin. “Yah, lets make pancakes in special shapes for Jin Hyung. He’s coming over in 20. I texted him from your phone” he says before sprinting to the kitchen and you’re not even sentient yet like -.-

Jeon Jungkook

Is singing when you open the door to your apartment. Continues to sing as he takes off his Timbs and is still singing when you come into the bathroom to brush your teeth.

Is really playful but can hardly keep his eyes open. So he’ll play with the hem of your long sleep shirt with his eyes closed while you wash your face and moonwalk sluggishly around you while you go to the kitchen to get two glasses of water.

You try your hardest not to laugh at him because it just gets worse from there, but you do laugh when you close the fridge and he strike a “seductive pose” with too much booty pop.

You sit in bed for a while and scroll through your phone but you can feel him making fugly faces at you. You make the mistake of turning to look at him and regret it when you’re still clutching at your sides, wheezing 5 minutes later.

He has a little drawer for himself filled with things he’s left from previous sleepovers and from one awkward night where he had come over with a small box of overnight stuff and mumbled that he thought it “Just makes more sense if I keep this stuff over here...since I’m here all the time anyway”. You had smiled up at him and asked him to pick a drawer to clean out and he was silent but you caught him flash a bunny teeth smile to himself.

Now, though, he’s completely shameless about changing into his pajamas and doing weird wiggly dance moves while you record him on your phone. The dancing stops only when your friend Facetimes you and you try to get him in the frame. He hides behind you, mouth pressed gently near your shoulder blade until your quick chat ends and he stays there when you finally start to fall asleep.

He spoons like a champ with one arm crooked to pad your head and the other thrown over your torso to keep you close at all times. You always end up switching positions by the morning and he’s too stubborn to ask if he can be the little spoon more often. But he loves when you wake him up by tracing your fingers up and down the parts of his spine that you can reach.

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