#this is how i try to stir things up with two friends who ik are into each other. this would be my move

[yesloulou]

Post Race | 2023 Mexican Grand Prix

[heystephen]

wait im so curious whats happening rn w liam payne? he was always default the worst 1d guy and ik he like shills nfts but i need the tea on what he did to get twitter to snap

it’s been a wild 24 hours in 1Dville so let me summarize everything the best i can

the beginning of this debacle was that liam flew out to niall’s show in argentina and just really made a spectacle of himself. this drew comparisons to other times the boys (excluding liam) have gone to support each other and been sure to avoid stealing the spotlight from the other one, specifically a time that harry went to see niall as well and left when he realized fans were watching him and not niall on stage. he also made some weird comments on snapchat about him and niall having things to ‘clear up’ which was probably just him trying to stir up drama and attention.. it’s worth noting that liam himself has specifically said that niall has told him more than once to stop talking about him. anyway after the show, liam went to nialls hotel to stand outside and meet NIALLS fans and take pictures with them. this entire thing just put a bad taste in a lot of people’s mouths but as far as criticisms liam’s getting right now, this is very tip of the iceberg. like weird but not necessarily bad

THEN we are brought back to when he went on logan paul’s podcast a few years ago and mentioned having a fight with a member of 1D who threw him into a wall. he didn’t say who it was and there was a lot of speculation as to which member it was. his ex girlfriend, maya henry, confirmed via tiktok that it was zayn and joked that she has heard the story an insufferable amount of times. his fans essentially jumped her in the comments and she hit back at them saying that they didn’t know him in the same context that she did as his ex. she has a book out where she talks about the abuse she endured with him, and in her tiktok she talked about how the day she released her book, liam went to see louis in concert for damage control because he knew that two 1D members in the same room always gets attention. she also mentioned that he still stalks her, and still calls her, her mom, her grandmother, her friends, and frequently creates new icloud accounts to harass her. there’s a lot more that can be said for his treatment of maya and the specific things she went through but i think the fact that she says he would openly tell her that he can do anything he wants because one direction fans will defend him says it all..

a fan came forward via tiktok as well and shared that she had been coerced and manipulated into sharing nudes with him through instagram. while she was of legal age, the power imbalance between a fan and a celebrity cannot be overlooked. she was also told by liam that he can get away with anything because he has 1D fans. maya confirmed in the comment section that other women have told her that he did this to them as well.

do with all of this as you will and form your opinion about him and his actions as you will! personally, i find him not just skeezy and weird, but abusive and highly resentful of the success of his former band mates because he knows he will never be remembered as an integral member of one direction and formidable solo artist the way the others are 🫡

[loopingpyre]

Shadow knife dies so hard in the original they forgot to put him in the final dungeon. This might be a bit all over the place. There was a lot. Most of the final two eps are the characters accepting their decision to be better when they get back. Izuru being on the spectrum makes a ton of sense. Not the direction one expects from the cool loner type. Unlike Mifue and Suzuna, Kotono is too straight for the female MC. Tragic. Kinda messed up you can give Suzuna codependency issues though. Shogo's was great. 13 years...and then he gets a chance to do things right the second time. And all of a sudden Thorn with the steel chair making him go through that again in the ending. My man cannot catch a break! Still, points for being the most forthcoming about how it's gonna suck for everyone when they get back. Even at the end before the Mu fight he calls reality hell. Nice reminder that their real struggles are after they get back. I can't imagine the game expected the Marie bit to be an actual twist. I wasn't ready for her transformation though. Where is she keeping all of those bombs... Super cool tie! Shadow knife's eps. If the Eiji death messed him up this bad I can't imagine how miserable Kotaro's would've been. Pretty much was a longer version of his stuff from the tower which I didn't mind. Mu kinda breaks in the second half of his and Wicked's story. Sad. Wicked though. Wtf! I was so unsure what the point of her story was at first. She doesn't really learn much of anything nor does she care to and you barely get more insight into her over the course of it. Reading that she was comatose and then seeing the hospital scene though. It stirred something within me for sure but I don't know if I can word it. Maybe it's that some people in Mobius just can't be helped? Her scars run so deep and she's also not even capable of living and trying like the rest of them when they go back. Then again her grandfather doesn't take the mask off so she's still got a chance if she wakes up? There's hope there but she's so far gone I'm not sure if you're supposed to believe in that. I will say Ike-P's comments when you are in the aquarium with Shadow Knife and Wicked and depressed Mu were hilarious. I felt so bad for him. He's too normal for all that. Thorn was certainly an antagonist. Part of me was expecting a much deeper reason with Ichika but nope just a lost love/friend. Like if they weren't whispering in Mu's ear then they could've been an earlier musician and Wicked could've been the one who wanted to destroy the world. Grand Guignol sucked. Looks awesome but man those hallways were long. Interesting that Mirei didn't need to be brainwashed of all people. Kuchinashi and Wicked being done with reality made sense but I guess there's not much left for Mirei either (in her eyes). Stay in Mobius ending was insanely miserable. As for the actual end. Happy that Mu and Aria can be together again. I will say Aria did grow on me over the course of the game and only a small percent of that was seeing the yuri vision between her and Mu. Trying to guess who everyone was in the credits was a fun little game. I really liked how even the characters who didn't have much of an image problem still presented differently in Mobius. Also liked how they didn't really show anyone's face. Makes them regular people who are back to a regular world. Seeing the musicians interacting with the club members was super sweet too. I wonder if Mirei knew that was Kotono and her kid. While there's a lot of hope, the Kuchinashi one was quite the downer. Feels like the game wants you to play out how their lives will play out including however you defined the mc. A little meta that you don't really see the MC? The person in Mobius is your avatar and when you finish the game you're back to living in reality. Might be reading too much into that though. Quick note on the last few songs. Were there like effects or something? How was she doing that with her voice?? Might have some final things to add once I sleep on it. Thank you for reading my rambling this whole time! 4096 limit.

So the fun part about the Wicked thing is that her character episodes are a bit limited. This is because there's a natural stopper in the form of an official light novel sequel to the game, that's all about her.

You can find a translation here if you're interested. I adore this thing so much, this was written before Overdose was released, so future content couldn't really contradict it. The 12 episode anime adaptation actually gives her more screentime outside of Naruko so it's less of a twist, but that anime is already more of a fun fan thing because it's not a straight adaptation of the game to begin with. The whole thing about reality and hell is that it's trying to play on the game's fancy tagline that uses a special kanji that refers to both of those words at the same time, reality is hell. Thorn is very interesting also because like, their backstory is packed with Stuff that they keep hidden from you and there's so many wild implications in the idea of assuming someone else's guise so they 'aren't dead'. Like, holy shit. I like how the ending is stylised like that. It's rather interesting in that it's an overdose exclusive addition, and Takuya Yamanaka, the game's director isn't actually sold on if it was the best thing to even add because he wanted it to be interpret-able and not just give them happiness, but he also wanted players to get a little bit more out of the characters if they'd already played the vita game. It's one of those things where I think they managed to run a smidge better in the anime due to being able to just do whatever. I like Kuchinashi and Shogo just so happening to cross paths though, that's cute. The last few songs are especially insane, the boss rush in the grand guinol is all new overdose remixes, arrangements by Cosmo@P, who also composed Thorn's theme, Distorted Happiness. They go incredibly hard and I think it has to be a combination of skills to make Ueda's voice go wild. I'm really glad you enjoyed the game! If you ever come up with any other notes about it let me know, it's been a ton of fun reading your stuff!

[nickitxrres]

Jemma's Room

where Nicki and Jemma gossip and have girl time! @ijemmaokafor

Nicki Torres

-bounds up to Jemma's door and gives it a shave and a haircut knock-

Ijemma Okafor

-calling out blindly as she finished reading a sentence- Come in! -finally looks to see who it is- Nicki! What a nice surprise, what can I do for ya?

Nicki Torres

-Nicki waits for the invitation before strolling on it- Nice surprise? I think that might be a first. I'm just stuck wandering around town and wanted to see if you were free for some chit chat. I know you're busy being the super badass that you are.

Ijemma Okafor

-snorting in laughter- oh yeah, super badass with my various checklists. I’m down for a chat, though. You going stir crazy or something?

Nicki Torres

Dios, si. -Nicki dramatically steps further into the room- I do not do well with no action. I need excitement. But that's not why I'm here. -she stops to lean against one of the walls- I want to talk about you and Ike. So....how did it happen? I could ask him but he's a guy and never gives all the good details. Tell me everything.

Ijemma Okafor

-giving Nicki a skeptical look- The sex part of the lovey dovey part?

Nicki Torres

Either or. Or both, if you want to share.

Ijemma Okafor

You…would wanna know about that? I know you and Ike have a special sort of relationship too.

Nicki Torres

Yes, I do. Ike and I are fun friends. Love him to death, but what you and Ike have is so sweet and adorable and honestly, I love it. You're good. He needs good, even though he doesn't think he does. So I wanna know! How absolutely mushy gushy was he? Was it like those romance movies? Was it rot your teeth out because it's that sweet sweet?

Ijemma Okafor

-she curled in on herself in delight- It was such a romcom miscommunication moment. He was trying to profess his feelings and I was completely lost. And then when it hit me what he was saying…god, I got all the butterflies. I never thought…I never thought he’d be able to get there, y’know?

Nicki Torres

Oh trust me, I know exactly what you mean. -she was happy - beyond happy for the two of them- For being such a big mouth with no filter, the man struggles with expressing his feelings. If he ever does something stupid, you let me know and I'll go hit him over the head for you. I refuse to let him self-sabotage this because I know how much he loves you and cares about you.

Ijemma Okafor

To be honest, I’ll hit him over the head. I think he’d be disappointed if I did any less. But I appreciate having back-up. Same goes for me, by the way. I don’t get the whole raider camaraderie—I mean, I get it, but it’s not something an outsider can really understand. Still, I respect the hell out of it. And I know it’s a little more free-form, between you and him. But I like that he’s got folks looking out for him in places I can’t be. So thank you for that.

Nicki Torres

Of course. Once he's cleared and everything I'll make extra sure he doesn't do anything stupid. He's coming back every time, I can promise you that. I'm not letting him do anything dumb, and neither with Orion and Ares. We've got his back.

Ijemma Okafor

Aw hun, don’t make that kinda promise. That’s too much to ask of anyone. Just look after each other like you already do.

Nicki Torres

Too late. Already made the promise. Can't take it back. And before you two were a thing I already forbade him from doing anything that could put his life in jeopardy. He's not allowed to go anywhere. -she chews a little bit on the inside of her cheek- I know you probably already are but......you're looking out for him while he's here, right?

Ijemma Okafor

As much as he lets me -she gave her a knowing look—both women knew how Ike could be- That’s part of why we work as well as we do, I think. Listening when the other says to leave something be. But he’s the most important person in the world to me…part of me always has an eye on him.

Nicki Torres

Good, good....so in that case.....have you noticed that there's something off about him? Like.....I don't know, he's missing some of that Ike flair?

Ijemma Okafor

-sighing heavily- Yep. I can get him back to himself if we spend a few hours together just relaxing or goofing off. But the rest of the time, he’s a little…I dunno, desaturated.

Nicki Torres

Oh thank God, it's not just me. -she pushes off the wall and starts to pace in place- There's something bugging him and I don't know what and he insists that he's fine but I know he's not fine. I've seen fine. This is not fine. He came over and he was tired and exhausted and then he said something that set off smoke signals but he shrugged it off and it's been bugging me ever since.

Ijemma Okafor

Smoke signals? What did he say?

Nicki Torres

He said I wasn't allowed to be anything but a raider, which, I mean, isn't all that weird, but then he said something about getting older and feeling it and....I don't know, maybe I'm reading into it too much. It just seems like he's holding something back.

Ijemma Okafor

The scalp injury really threw him for a loop. And it’s getting colder, I know everyone’s bones are aching more. I’d put money on an age-related existential crisis. The bit about you only being allowed to be a raider…that’s weird. Was there more context to it?

Nicki Torres

No, he just said, -she pauses to mimic Ike's voice- Don't go off to be a hunter or security. Ya got to stay a raider. -she returns back to her normal voice- See what I mean? That's just weird. There's something not right.

Ijemma Okafor

-quiet, as she thinks about what it might mean- Might be his version of “don’t leave me.” He’s protective of you raiders. Maybe even possessive. And part of him probably knows that’s not the best way to be. But he can’t help it.

Nicki Torres

-she takes a breath as she stops her pacing- You're probably right. I don't know. I just don't know why he would think I would ever leave the raiders. I've never shown any interest in doing anything else. Where he goes, I go. But there's just something bugging me about it and I can't put my finger on it

Ijemma Okafor

Well asking him outright rarely works, so in lieu of that, we’ll both just keep an eye on him. You think he’s said anything similar to Orion or Ares?

Nicki Torres

Ares, probably not. There's a whole thing with him and Ares that I'll let him explain. Orion, possibly. I haven't really spoken to him about that, but it wouldn't surprise me if Orion's noticed something too. Orion and Ike are pretty close too.

Ijemma Okafor

They’re an interesting pair. I like that they have each other though. I was worried about Orion when he first got here. But he does okay. You raiders are like the Island of Misfit Toys.

Nicki Torres

-Nicki smiles as she puts her hand over her heart- Aww, that's so sweet. And incredibly accurate.

Ijemma Okafor

I am nothing if not a huge sap.

Nicki Torres

I love it. It's perfect. Ike needs that sappiness. Pleae, please, please give him all of the sap.

Ijemma Okafor

Always. I don’t know where else to put it. And he gets all glowy when I pile it on. Nothing beats Ike blushing.

Nicki Torres

You get him to blush? Oh, now I'm incredibly jealous. You'll have to do that when I'm around at some point. I have spent years trying to get that man to blush and all I get is laughter and quippy comebacks.

Ijemma Okafor

Nah, you gotta get him when he’s already feeling kinda soft.

Nicki Torres

See, I rarely get to see him when he's soft. He saves all that soft for you, Jemma.

Ijemma Okafor

-suddenly feeling a little guilty- I don’t know why…but I savor every last bit of it, I promise that much.

Nicki Torres

Because he loves you, Jemma. That's why. He gets to be vulnerable with you. You're his safe place. The bright spot in his dark place. You put him back together.

Ijemma Okafor

I do love him. He’s got so many people that love him though…I don’t know why he picked me to be vulnerable with. I fucking cherish it, believe me. But I’m still not sure I understand it.

Nicki Torres

Because you love him and he wants you to know that he trusts you completely. It's hard to explain but when you come with the emotional baggage that someone like he has, being able to show your belly to something that could easily get you is a huge sign of their trust.

Ijemma Okafor

Oh believe me, I know. And hell, I did the same thing with him. I try to stay pretty even keeled, and I was lucky to be raised without a shit ton of trauma. But if he wanted to, Ike could tear my heart to shreds. Not that I think he’s capable of it. I just…I’ve gone all the way in with him, y’know?

Nicki Torres

All the way in? -She blinks a few times- What do you mean?

Ijemma Okafor

In love, I mean. Handed my whole heart over, jumped in the deep end…pick your metaphor, my sappy ass did it.

Nicki Torres

Oh .... Oooohhhh. -it dawns on her after a moment- he's your person! That's sweet..... what's that like?

Ijemma Okafor

Being in love? It’s like…having a home outside yourself. I don’t know, thousands of years of poets and artists have tried to pin it down, I’m probably not gonna manage it right now. Have you never been in love?

Nicki Torres

Ahhh, yeah, no not really. Not until lately and it's so weird and new that trying to make sure I'm not fucking it up l.

Ijemma Okafor

Good news is, you can't fuck it up. The love part, anyway. I guess you can fuck up a relationship, but the being in love part, that's just...cosmic or chemical or whatever your version of god is.

Nicki Torres

-Nicki ponders on those for a moment - so when I'm with Aries and I can't stop smiling and I feel safe and happy with him, that's being in love?

Ijemma Okafor

-eyes widening- Ares? Oh for real??

Nicki Torres

Yes, Ares. He's.....well, he's sweet.

Ijemma Okafor

-bouncing excitedly as she shifts on the bed- I’ve gathered as much. I wasn’t sure about him at first, what with the group he was part of before. But he seems like a softie deep down.

Nicki Torres

-Nicki is aware and also knows about Ike needing to bring something up more about it with the council but she keeps silent on that matter - He's a good man. He's made mistakes like everyone here. And he saved my ass a few weeks ago. But he's also kind and caring and sweet and....well, I love him.

Ijemma Okafor

-taking both of Nicki’s hands in hers- Oh honey, that’s just the best news I’ve heard all day. The way love keeps cropping up, no matter how messy the world gets. Does he know how you feel?

Nicki Torres

-Nicki laughs a bit and nods- Sí, he told me he loved me too the night of prom. And he technically said it first, which probably helped.

Ijemma Okafor

How’d he say it, how’d it happen?? I wanna know everything.

Nicki Torres

-Nicki laughs as she's shaking her head- We went back to my place to sneak away and were having sex and he blurted it out.

Ijemma Okafor

-downright giggling- That’s so fucking cute. Did it freak you out?

Nicki Torres

A little bit, yeah. I had to ask to make sure he meant it and wasn't just saying it because we were screwing. I don't think he realized he said it until I asked him about it.

Ijemma Okafor

Did he freak out once you pointed it out to him?

Nicki Torres

I think he panicked for a minute. He has this adorable face he makes when he freaks out.

Ijemma Okafor

Those sparkly blue eyes of his get ginormous, huh?

Nicki Torres

Oh yeah, like giant blue saucers.

Ijemma Okafor

Adorable. So adorable. Are you guys…an item? Or just kinda keeping it casual?

Nicki Torres

Ahhh..... -Nicki makes a face as she rocks her head from side to side- Yes and no? We're a thing but also open for other partners. I know, it sounds weird, but it oddly makes sense. At least to me.

Ijemma Okafor

It doesn’t sound weird, that’s how me and Ike are. Maybe Ike more so than me—-laughing-Ike’s about all I can handle.

Nicki Torres

Ike is a lot, I will give you that. But that's what makes him endearing and fun.

Ijemma Okafor

I wouldn’t have him any other way.

Nicki Torres

-Nicki hummed her approval and nodded- I have probably overstayed my welcome and let you get back to....whatever you were doing. If he says anything concerning, can you let me know?

Ijemma Okafor

You're always welcome here Nicki, can't overstay it. But I'll keep you posted. -she pulls her into a crushing hug-

Nicki Torres

See, you say that, Jemma, but you'll be changing your mind when I come crashing . -she grunts as Jemma squeezes her but laughs as she hugs her back- I appreciate you. And I'm happy for you and Ike. I really am.

Ijemma Okafor

I'm happy for you and Ares.

Nicki Torres

Gracias, Jemma. -she kisses her cheek before strutting out the door-

[ashsostrange]

all this dramaaaa 😭🙆‍♀️🙆‍♀️ now i gotta serious up and give my two cents

this whole copying thing should’ve stayed between the two writers in dms so they could get it sorted out. i say that bc of the weird ass anons who pull shit out of their asses. if they couldn’t come to an agreement and it became a bigger issue, then THAT’S when it should’ve been brought to others’ attention. harassment or wtv is nottt necessary. neither are baseless accusations on who’s behind anon pretending to be one of the girls.

i don’t believe anyone initially had ill intentions but, honestly, c’mon… nobody wants to open this app to a new “scandal” every day when we’re j tryna read/write fanfiction, share art, talk to our friends, or wtv else ppl do on here! like this is silly. really silly. you can always block ppl (and anons i think) too, it’s protecting your peace 🤷‍♀️ ik that’s how i protect mine.

anyway to my knowledge, the issue was alr dealt with, so whoever is behind that anon on their blogs is dead wrong trying to stir the pot that’s literally empty. nd that’s why i’m saying ppl gotta handle shit privately cuz of these messy ass nobodies hiding under “anonymous.” nd j ignore them in general. don’t feed into the attention they CLEARLY ain’t getting at home 😭

but maye’s right, lmao. never that damn serious. not tdy, not tmr, not ever. it shouldn’t have even gotten to this point.

i know we’re online, but ik all the writers/readers on here aren’t little kids, so you might as well start handling shit like adults 🤷‍♀️ i say that referring to the spider-verse (writing? wtv else) fandom as a WHOLE bc this isn’t the first time some dumb shit like this has occurred 😭

and to the weird anons, mcdonald’s is pretty much always hiring, so there you go.

lastly, hope this doesn’t affect anybody’s want to write on here or in general (or just b on here) cuz like i said, ion think anyone had ill intentions. things happen and people do make mistakes. if it’s dealt w civilly then everyone n everything should be good!

we all (hopefully) learned sumn today. now let’s move on n be happy 🧘‍♀️🧘‍♀️😚🙃 i got ap lang hw i need to do

Maye like, I just logged on a couple of minutes ago, and there's already drama. What the fuck is wrong with peeeooopppllleeee?????

they want attention thats really it 🗣️

[tetsvhoe]

I KNOW WHO YOU PRETEND I AM [2]

you know the only time they look into your eyes is to search for someone else.

kuroo, bokuto, atsumu, suna, and sakusa’s part

pt. 2 regret and other cliches akaashi, kenma, iwaizumi

character/s: timeskip!akaashi keiji x f!reader ; timeskip!kenma kozume x gn!reader, timeskip!iwaizumi hajime x gn!reader

genre/s: ANGST pls don’t say i didn’t warn y’all

warning/s: none i think except for gut wrenching angst

gwen's notes 🤍: ik i promised a part two for the first one where they regret it and i swear im already writing it, i just couldn’t help myself from writing for other boiz

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

akaashi keiji

akaashi is a living breathing piece of art work. with his stoic expression, silky black hair, piercing emerald eyes, honeyed voice, calm and collected behavior, it seems as though he stepped right out of a portrait and escaped a museum. what a strange coincidence that he also has a passion for making art of his own—he weaves words into stories, turns the black and white of ink and paper into a kaleidoscope of hues painted on a canvas of his memories and emotions. lately, akaashi’s been lost in a world of his own. on top of editorial duties, he’s locked up in his office most of the time, building his own palace from paragraphs and verses. you try not to miss him too much when he ventures deep into the crevices of his mind as this is one of the things you loved most about him, he is perceptive and profound. akaashi hides his works from you and you assume he’s just being doubtful of his own talents as usual. you sneak around to read the portraits he’s painted about his muse. he immortalizes his love through art. akaashi writes about the knots in her hair, you note that he describes a different color from yours; how she stirs up a storm in her coffee every morning, you prefer cold coffee though he says it’s warm; the stardust in her tears when she cries, but he’s got your eye color wrong. you flip through the pages until the very end until you realize it is you who’s got it wrong. you learn that you are a side character in his narrative and none of the poems and sonnets are about you. akaashi has been writing about heartbreak when all you’ve been giving him is love. the hurt from his past takes up all the pages. he has no room for your love so you settle between the empty spaces, you’re reduced to nothing more than scribbles and notes on margins in a book he’s written about someone that’s not you.

kenma kozume

kenma says he hates being tired. he only played volleyball for his best friend. he neither enjoyed nor hated playing the sport. similarly, that’s how he goes about his life. he half asses tasks that aren’t important and does things merely out of compliance. he agrees to going out on dates you carefully map out so you stop nagging him about it. he poses for pictures with a thin lipped smile and an annoyed expression he doesn’t bother to hide so you could both get going. he holds your hand just to stop you from wandering places when you go out, he can’t wait to go home. he opens his arms to welcome your embrace even if just to tune you out while he games or scrolls through his phone. he answers your texts and calls quickly because he can’t stand the constant vibrating. you never take it to heart even when you know kenma says he hates being tired but he’s a college student, a professional gamer, a youtuber, a stock trader, and a CEO. why? because kenma, to put it more accurately, doesn’t hate being tired. he hates putting in effort to things that don’t matter to him. kenma is a lot of things, but he is not yours. he does put in effort when he patiently teaches you how to play his favorite games. he rushes you to reach AR16 in genshin impact so he could visit your world, steal your resources, and bully the bosses. he frequently visits a profile which has been active 256 days ago. he shows you around a wonderful cottagecore house he spent days building in minecraft. there’s already a bed next to his and you note this was someone else’s home. he puts in effort because from behind a screen, he could pretend you’re someone else.

iwaizumi hajime

iwaizumi has a short temper and a sharp tongue but you know he means well most of the time. he calls his best friend “shittykawa” and tells him to look after himself all in one breath. he’s known to hit oikawa every chance he gets but then goes around and studies sports science in another country as if it had nothing to do with the fact that oikawa injured himself and he would never let something like that happen twice. you wholeheartedly believe that there is a reason for everything iwaizumi says and does, even though he’s a little rough around the edges and poor at his executions. so you don’t mind the opinions he has about you; i think this style looks good on you. that color suits your skin, you should wear it more often. i like this perfume you’re wearing better than the other one. i think you would look good with this hairstyle. there is a reason for everything iwaizumi says and does. and you only find out what it is when you finally meet his ex for the first time and realize how similar you’ve become to them. he’s turned you into someone he could love, someone he still loves. apparently, you as yourself wouldn’t suffice.

[tobi-momo]

A Misunderstanding

PAIRING: Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

GENRE: Angst | Hurt/Comfort | Reverse Comfort

WARNINGS: a lot of crying from both you and kuroo | cursing | mentions of sex | cheating (kind of? youll know when reading) | angst | mentions of drinking/being drunk | nothing is suggestive!! oh ya yall are married btw

WORD COUNT: 3k

A/N: ok ik this is long but this idea came from literally nowhere but i decided to write it thank you @combat-wombatus for helping me you helped put ideas in my brain<333 now i wasnt originally going for a happy ending but im really bad at angst so enjoy the shitty ending :)

“Please, Y/n, you know I didn't mean it,” he pleaded, his large hands desperately grabbing at your form while you push him away, your breaking sobs making his heart shatter. “Please, baby, don’t leave me,” he begs, falling on his knees in front of your trembling body, not being able to tear his eyes off of your heartbroken ones. He needed you to stay. He needed to show you that he isn’t that guy and that he would do anything for you. It was a one time thing. He wasn’t even sober. It wasn’t him. It was the alcohol. He wasn’t thinking straight. Please forgive him, please, please, please.

But you couldn’t. No matter how hard or how much you loved him and wanted to, the pain that ripped at your heart every time you looked at him was too much to bear. So you didn’t. You turn your blurry, glassy eyes away from him as he grabs your hand and forces it into his; your lips quivering and knees shaking. You couldn’t keep the betrayal and agony inside, whining and weeping at him, your knees giving out before your legs slam against the floor, your head near the carpet as you try and keep your affliction at bay.

“Y/n, please,” he whines, tears streaming down his pale cheeks; his admission of his unfaithfulness drained the color from his face. “Please forgive me, I need you, I love you so much.”

“W-” you sniffle, not knowing what to say. You knew you didn’t have to say anything at all, that you didn’t owe him any words, but you just...you just needed to know. “Why,” your voice quivered and cracked, your throat sore, “why did you,” you take a long breath, grabbing your chest to try and stop the heartache, the sudden cramp that formed where it used to be filled with warmth and love, “do this to me? With her?” You look up at him once with wide, searchful eyes as you ponder the reasons and look for the answers in his empty pupils.

“I wasn’t thinking straight, baby, I didn’t know what I was doing, please,” his voice stammers, trying to get you to understand that he really didn’t know what he was doing. “I would never do this to you, I-” “But you did.” Your tone is no longer sad and confused, but angry and fed up. His head backing up quickly, not expecting the response. “You made a promise, Tetsurou, remember?” You glare at him with menacing eyes as you hold up the very finger he kissed and placed the ring on on your wedding day. The beautiful diamond ring that had his initials carved in the interior and little gorgeous jewels that made the walls sparkle once hit with the hot sun was no more; the dark, gloomy piece of rock and metal meaning nothing but lies and mistrust.

“No, Y/n, please. Don’t do this to me,” he adjures guiltily.

“Don’t do this to you?” Your voice laced with deadly venom, standing and backing up, wiping your mouth with your hand in annoyance, placing it on your hip. “You did this to me! You did this to us! You went out! You got drunk! You fucked someone else! And not even a random girl! No! You just had to fuck your ex!” Your voice cracked again before you inhaled sharply and covered up your struggle.

“Y/n, I didn’t know what I was doing!”

“And that’s an excuse?? What, so now you can go fuck whoever you want and say ‘I didn’t know what I was doing!’” you mimic, “so you can get away with it every time?”

He didn’t answer. He looked at the ground, understanding exactly where you came from.

“Hm? Are you gonna answer me, or sit there like a coward?”

He could tell fully well you were just saying this because you were hurt. You didn’t mean any of it. You loved him. No matter what, you will always love him. Trusting him was out of the box for a while, maybe forever. But he can’t lose you. He knew you were soulmates- he knew you were made for each other. There was a reason you guys made it this far and only had big problems now. He needed to find that reason and use it for himself to win you back. He needed you back.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, your dramatic hand gestures coming to a halt at his words, your figure coming to a stand still as you wait for him to finish. “You don't deserve this. You don’t deserve me. Please know that it was a mistake and that I’ll never do it again ever, ever, ever,” he repeats, wanting it to sound as sincere as he means. “Just please give me a chance to make this up to you, please don’t leave me by myself without you,” he sobs out, putting his head in his hands.

You knew you shouldn’t feel bad for him. But god-fucking-dammit are you feeling bad for him. You knew you still loved him, you knew he still loved you- that much was obvious. You couldn’t see him for a while, no. Could you guys work it out? Maybe stitch the wound? Wait until the scar is barely visible anymore? Would that even work?

“Tetsurou,” a single, hot tear dripping down your face as you point to the ground. “I don’t know if I can ever trust you again.”

“I know, I know, just please give me a chance to help fix this!” He cries at your feet, his body bundled in a ball of self hatred and guilt. “I can do it, baby. I can help things go back to normal.”

“I don’t think they ever will be normal again.”

He whines, trying to negotiate with you as much as he can. “Let me fix us. Let me give you my everything again, let me show you that I’m all yours and no one else's, please,” he moans in anticipation for rejection, knowing the chances of you agreeing were next to zero.

The next few hours are silent. Him alone in the bedroom. Crouching on the floor as he ponders your possible answer. You work in the kitchen, making food to satisfy your appetite. He could hear your sniffles from the bedroom and picture you wiping your tears as you carry the pots on the stove. God, he was the biggest piece of shit ever known. What the fuck went through his mind when he was fucking his ex? He only remembers some of it, them waking up in bed together after, only wearing undergarments underneath the sheets and him holding her waist as if she were you. He thought they had ended on good terms, knowing that they were better as friends. He rushed out the door, not being able to stay in the same room without getting sick. He knew what he had to do.

He opens the door to the living room, a slight creak gaining your attention as you stir the sauce in the pan. Your eyes are puffy, your lip still trembling as you try to turn away from him. He only takes about two steps forward before he stops, trying to find the words he wants to say.

“Listen, I know you said you needed time, and I’m not rushing you at all whatsoever. I want to give you all the time in the world to think this over. If you need, I can go to Kou’s house and stay there for a while. He won’t mind. I just want to give you the space you deserve.”

You nod in response, your head still facing away before he whispers an “I love you” before he slips out of the apartment.

~.~.~.~

The next few days were tortue. Not being able to sleep in the same bed he would sleep in with you, not being able to watch the same tv shows, not being able to even be in his presence at least once a day like you used to melted a hole of despair inside you: eating away at your emptiness, taking away the numbness that you so desperately needed right now. The feeling came back- the one that you tried shutting out three hours ago. It crept up at you, flipping your stomach and weighing your lungs down to the floor, your throat sore and dry. Your eyes wet with a blurry wall as your tears build up once again, missing your cheeks as you crouch down looking at the floor, falling on the tile. The droplets containing your anguish splatter on the ground, your raggedy whimpers echoing throughout the vacant apartment, making it all the more obvious he wasn’t there.

Knock knock knock

Was that the door?

Your wide, unbelieving eyes turned to the wooden door frame; the knocks getting louder and faster. You quickly stand up and try to collect yourself, preparing to have a long talk with Tetsurou. You grab the handle, turning it- the door opening with a tiny creak.

Oh.

“Hi! Kuroo left his jacket at the party the other day, is he here?”

Oh, that bitch.

“No. He’s not.” You deadpan, not finding her cheery, happy expression amusing.

“Oh no! Uh, well, here, can you give this back to him for me?”

“Stop smiling at me like you aren’t part of the reason he’s gone.” You snark, glaring at her with sharp eyes as she backs up, confused.

“W-what?”

“You heard me. Don’t act fucking clueless.”

“Excuse me? Who are you to talk to m-”

“Oh, cut the shit,” you roll your eyes, “I know you slept with Tetsurou, you don’t need put on whatever the fuck this is,” you gesture at her.

“What the hell are you talking about? What are you, fucking crazy?” Your eyes narrow in confusion, your disgusted scowl lessening at her words.

“Right. You probably don’t remember because you were blacked out,” you add sarcastically. “He told me what you guys did. Now you know. So, I would love it if you would just leave.”

“What are you- Me and Kuroo didn’t do shit last night. I drank like two beers and was hanging out with another girl the entire time,” she explains, looking offended. Your face loosens into an expression she couldn’t read. “He blacked out early and passed out on the couch while I was busy talking with the other girl.”

“Huh?” You whisper, your disoriented thoughts not aligning to a proper conclusion.

“I didn’t go to bed until like,” she thought back, “I don’t know, three in the morning? There were people passed out on the floor so I decided to take the guest bedroom with her. I was still awake when Kuroo came into the room, I’m guessing because he thought it was yours, based off of how he kept mumbling your name and shit,” she exhales, “he grabbed onto me once he got in and just clung.” You glower at her, huffing. She sees this, sighing before continuing, “Calm down, remember nothing happened. Remember that girl? She ended falling off the bed because I was scooting away from his clingy ass.” You look at her blankly, trying to fit the pieces together. “She ended up leaving the party completely,” she mumbled in embarrassment before you speak up.

“Then why did he tell me you guys had sex?” You mutter quietly, although assuming she heard since her head backed up while she quickly scoffs.

“I swear to God, that man. Listen.” You look up into her eyes- her genuine eyes. “Me and Kuroo didn’t do a single thing. I didn’t do anything to him and he didn’t do anything to me. I’ll have a conversation with him later because he is an absolute dumbass,” she breathed.

What the fuck?? You were just supposed to believe her?

“How am I supposed to believe that?”

“Me and him ended a long time ago. I don’t like him like that and I haven’t for a while. And seeing he was bragging about you the entire time at the party, he’s over me, too. Besides, I’m not even into guys that much anymore anyways,” she grinned and winked at you. The shock and realization hit you like a truck. She wasn’t even- oh my God. She chuckled at your expression; you ran away from her to the counter to get your phone, quickly unlocking it and tapping on Tetsurou’s contact.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mumble over and over. To tap the call button, listening to it ring as you bring your phone up to your ear, hearing him pick up the phone almost immediately after.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” He sounded worried. It’s only been about a week, he had hoped that you weren’t going to leave him.

“Get over here, right now, Tetsurou.” Your voice made it seem like it was urgent, so he quickly picked up his jacket from the couch, and you could hear the jingling of his keys as he grabbed them and opened the door, almost slamming it shut once he left.

~.~.~.~

“Y/n?” He asked at the open front door, wondering why it wasn’t closed. “Y/n, you have to be careful and close the door, we have them for a reason, you know,” he said as he walked in. Even after being at the line of a break-up, he still cares for your well-being. He didn’t even do anything wrong and he was still caring for you as a loved one should. He always did everything to make you feel comfortable and safe, so once he knew that he had slept with his ex he was completely devastated to his core. He didn’t want to do this to you, but you had the right to know.

“Tetsu.” You called. Already back to nicknames? This is good, right?

“Yes? Y/n?” He was scared, to say the least, feeling awkward and not knowing what to do. He walked scarcely towards your figure sitting on the couch, not caring to drop his keys and jacket on the counter. He had a feeling this might go wrong.

“We need to talk.” Shit. This is exactly what he didn’t want to hear. Hearing those words he couldn’t help but think that you were going to make him pack his stuff and go. “So, I talked with your ex.” You speak slowly, not wanting your words to come out wrong. You don’t want him to take any of this in a bad way at all. Yet his eyes widen drastically, his heartbeat racing and his nerves pricking him. “You are just one big dummy, aren’t you?”

What? What are you talking about?

“What?”

“You didn’t sleep with her. She told me everything that happened that night. She’s not even into guys anymore. Tetsu-”

This couldn’t be happening. Not only did he accuse himself of cheating, he accused himself of cheating with his ex, and that he cheated with his ex at a party, while you two are married. And then it turns out it wasn’t true? What the hell was wrong with him? He jeopardized your entire relationship because he was too drunk to know what was going on.

“Wait, what?” He yells, angrily sitting down on the couch, “so you’re telling me-” you nodded and hummed an ‘mhm’ in response. His hands find their way to his hair, pulling at the roots and scratching his scalp, his low grunts of pain and fury seeping out of his throat as he frustratingly comprehends what he just did.

You rush over to him, grabbing his wrists and pushing them down to his lap as fast as you can, making his eyes find their way to your blown out pupils. You can see the hot tears prickle down his cheek as he frowns at you, completely and utterly defeated.

“Tetsu, I don’t want you to hurt yourself, it’s okay,” you reassure, giving him a happy smile. He wanted to smile back, but he couldn’t control the broken sob that escaped him. “Hey, hey,” you try to grab his attention as he pulls his head down, crying. “It’s okay, baby, it’ll be okay.” You wrap your arms around his head, protecting him as you softly coo and ‘shh’ him quietly in his ear. ‘I’m sorry’ kept coming out of his mouth as he clinged to you, not being able to help his want to be closer to you. The realization that he just almost broke your heart completely and he had worried about divorce for this shit made him want to just rip his scalp out. He was so stupid. So, so so, stupid. “Tetsu, look at me, please. Look at me,” you whisper, bringing your hand to his chin, dragging it up so you could catch sight of his hazel irises. His eyes red and puffy, his cheeks wet and his eyes droopy, you couldn’t do anything but frown at the sight. He hated himself right now, not wanting to face the embarrassment and the humiliation of the situation.

“You don’t deserve me, I’m so sorry,” he whimpered in your arms, gripping them tighter and tighter for comfort- you knowing that he needed it right now. You had already pulled him into your chest, feeling his wet tears soak your shirt, your hands rubbing his back and your fingers gently grazing his throbbing scalp.

“It’s okay, I forgive you, Tetsu, you did the right thing by telling me you did it instead of hiding it from me, and then it turns out you didn’t do it at all.” Your cheeks start to feel hot, and you don’t even realize your sniffles until you could feel a dam break at your water line. You couldn’t stop them, the tears of relief. You didn’t want to stop them. You were glad that they were her, glad that they were for him, glad they were because you knew the truth, glad because you knew you two would be okay.

You looked back at your ring, watching it bloom like a flower in the spring, the meaning coming back to your marriage. It wasn’t just metal and rock anymore, it was a gorgeous promise.

“I love you, Tetsurou. Don’t forget that. You’re staying with me, alright?” you whisper into his hairline.

“Thank you,” he cries.

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[yourmidnightlover]

holding hands

never stop loving me part 2 :)

summary - after reader and spencer make it home safe and almost sound, spencer decides to show her just how much he loves her touch.

tw - smut, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (yea, ik i do this a lot), teasing?, fingering, oral (female receiving), soft dom!spencer, fluff

wc - 2,671

a/n - you could totally read this as a stand alone piece, just know that spencer is kinda in the doghouse rn bc he said mean things to reader abt her being all touchy and annoying (even tho she isn’t). happy reading 😌

masterlist

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spencer had said he was going to make it up to you.

did he know how yet? not really. would he figure out how? absolutely.

you had been rather distant after you had solved the case and on the plane ride back home. you still sat beside him, but you didn't make any move to touch him or lay your head on him as you normally would. maybe it was because you just didn't feel like it, but spencer knew better than to think that.

"do you want to order takeout tonight?" you turned towards him to ask the question.

"yea, of course we can," he agreed, his arm reaching around your body to pull you closer to him. he felt you stiffen under his touch. "are you alright?" it was his turn to look at you, you nodded up at him.

"i'm alright," you clarified, giving him a tight-lipped smile that wasn't very convincing. eventually, you settled into his arm, leaning your head on his shoulder and succumbing to the sleep you needed.

when you woke up, it was to spencer swatting away morgan's hand while shushing him.

"morgan, she needs her rest in order to heal properly!" he whisper-yelled while trying to move morgan's hand away but failing. "don't touch her, only i can!" he clarified, morgan threw his hands up in defense as he turned to sit back down.

"y'know you get more protective than i thought you would be," morgan shrugged with a chuckle.

"what's that mean?" spencer argued defensively.

"it means that princess there is well taken care of. you just don't seem like the possessive type of guy," he reiterated as he pulled out his headphones.

"i'm not being possessive," he defended himself. "i'm being a good boyfriend by not letting you wake her up just so you can ask her a ridiculous question," spencer looked down at you in your peaceful sleeping position.

you hadn't slept well in the hospital. spencer knew this because each time he went to sleep you were awake, and you would be awake when he woke back up. the night before you were in the hospital he heard you cry yourself to sleep and you woke up before him. so, in his mind, you needed as much rest as possible if you wanted to heal properly.

that, and he wanted to feel you cuddled against him as you slept for the first time in a week.

"i think it's more than that, genius," the bald man scoffed.

"what do you think it is?" spencer sassed.

"well, i think it has something to do with the fact that you and pretty girl there," he nodded towards you, "were in a fight and you missed her."

spencer sighed, "is it that obvious?" he used his free hand to move a piece of hair from your face, his hand lingering there for a second longer.

"look, kid, i may or may not have heard what happened thanks to a little someone. you should let her know how much she means to you, alright? she's probably feeling like you're doubting your relationship because of her, so make sure she knows that she's it for you," he advised his curly-headed friend.

"she's not 'it' for me, derek," spencer sighed once more. "she's my everything."

you stirred in your 'sleep' to alert them of your presence, slowly sitting up in an attempt to not hurt yourself.

"hey, princess," spencer whispered, moving that same annoying strand of hair from your face and tucked it behind your ear.

"mmm... hi," you stretched your arms over spencer so you wouldn't hit him. "how long until we land?"

"about half an hour," he informed you, whispering as the other team members slept. "if you'd like to go back to sleep i'll wake you up before we land."

"i'm alright, thank you," you smiled.

you could be mad at him while being a nice person. you just didn't know if you were ready to get over what he had said to you.

——————————

you had gone straight home after landing, permittable by hotch who saw how tired the two of you were.

both of you were laying together on the couch, you slightly on top of spencer because of your still bruised rib that slightly hurt, he angled his head down and started kissing your neck softly. your breathing got heavier, your breaths being few and far between as your hands reached back to grasp spencer's curls.

"spence?" you asked, more like whispered. he continued his actions, the only thing that signified he actually heard you being a small hum against your skin. "i-i... can we...?" you trailed off, not sure how to ask for what you wanted.

"can we what, princess?" he asked his hands reaching around to the front of your body, lightly ghosting over your bare legs.

"you know what, spencer," you huffed in annoyance as you rolled your eyes. he squeezed your thigh firm enough to know he had done it, but gentle enough to know it wouldn't leave any marks that were too bad.

"and you know better than to roll your eyes at me," he whispered in your ear, nipping gently at your lobe. "now... tell me exactly what you want."

"i want whatever you'll give me," you turned your face towards him, giving him your best puppy dog eyes before adding, "please?" you pursed your bottom lip into a pouty position.

that was apparently the magic word because as soon as they had left your mouth, you could have sworn you heard spencer growl in your ear before continuing to kiss and nip at your neck, leaving his marks all over your body. you felt his erection twitch in his pants as you whimpered from the touch of his lips on you which spurred you to grind your ass against his hips. he grabbed your hips to still their movement before sitting up with you, slowly as to make sure he didn't hurt your ribs.

"can you walk to the room by yourself?" he asked in his normal, sweet, non-dominating spencer voice, to which you nodded your head yes as you began to walk where he had asked.

you knelt by the door naked in wait for him, hoping he'd give you something to take your mind off of your injury. when he walked in, he could've sworn he felt his heart grow with even more love for you, something he thought was already impossible.

"princess, why're you on the floor?" he questioned, kneeling down to get eye level with you.

"why isn't your dick in my mouth?" you countered, a smirk growing on your face.

"i was gonna be nice tonight since you're not well so i wouldn't push it, doll," he gave you a stern look that told you to watch it. "i still have some making up to do, i believe?" your smile returned even brighter than before as he helped you back to your feet and into the bed.

once you were comfortable, he was practically worshipping your body with each kiss and hum against your body.

"i can't imagine never touching you again, y/n," he made his way down to your chest, his lips wrapping around your nipple. he gently tugged on it with his teeth before releasing it and doing the same to the other one.

"these tits," he sucked a hickey onto one of them before moving to the other.

"this stomach," he kissed all over your torso, being extremely careful of your bruises as your hands around through his locks once more.

"love the way it feels when i lay on it," he made his way down to your thighs, loving the way you squirmed underneath his touch. he hovered right over the place you wanted most and gently bit down on your thigh, your hips bucking upward subtly from the shock.

"god, these thighs," he huffed as he squeezed them once more. "love the feeling of them wrapping around my head when i'm between them."

"then how about you get between them, then?" you sighed sarcastically, your neediness getting the better of you

"so very impatient," he mocked before pressing one final kiss to your inner thigh. "but what the princess wants, the princess gets. for now, at least."

he licked a thick stripe up your slit, tantalizingly slow just to hear the whimpers that left your lips from the feeling. your hands flew to his hair, gripping it tight as he continued to lap at your pussy.

"so good, sir," you moaned out. "please don't stop. don't stop!" you cried as his lips wrapped around your clit. "uh- right there! yes!" you shouted as your thighs strained to remain still. "yes! oh fuck, yes!" you yelled as the high hit you like a train, his hands grasped your hips so they would stay in place, working you through that euphoria. "oh, thank you, thank you so much..." you trailed off, running your hands through his hair once more as he began making his way up your body, peppering kisses all around you.

"mmm, you did so good for me, y/n," he praised before connecting your lips to his in a passionate kiss. you whimpered into his mouth greedily. "someone's eager, yea princess?" he chuckled. you nodded your head as you bit your lip. "what do you want? i need you to tell me," he whispered, his hands trailing down your body once more and connecting with your sensitive center.

"pl-please," you whined, your hips bucking into his hand. "you, i want you," you informed him as if he hadn't already known.

"you have me now," he chuckled.

"no, no. i want you inside me," you pouted, your hands pulling the hair at the nape of his neck for punctuation.

"you want me inside you?" he asked as he pushed his fingers inside you, your mouth widening to form an 'o' from the surprise. "there, i'm inside you," he teased once more as he began thrusting his fingers in and out. you held onto his arm, a way to ground yourself so you could stil talk without sounding like a baby.

"your- i want your... shit... your dick. i want your dick inside me, please," you practically begged as his fingers began curling inside of you in that perfect spot.

"ohh, is that what you meant?" he asked like a smart ass, you couldn't find it in you to be a brat about it, so you just nodded your head as he worked you through your second orgasm of the night.

"yes! ohhh, fuck, yes," your hips rutted up against his hand from the pleasure. "please, please," you asked once more. "can you please just fuck me now? i want your cock..."

"aww, of course, princess," he said with a bright smile.

he got up from the bed only to remove himself of his remaining clothes before adjusting himself, lining his dick up with your center. he ran his dick through your already wet folds before slowly pushing himself inside of you, knowing you'd still need to adjust to his length.

"so beautiful, y/n," he grasped your hands, interlacing your fingers with his as he began to push himself inside you once more.

it might've been the feeling of being in submission for him, but you felt overcome with emotions. the intimacy of the moment you were sharing was more than just the sex you normally had. it was beautiful. the way he looked at you with awe each time he thrust himself back inside of you. the way you held onto his hands tightly in order to tell yourself that it was real... that he was real.

"god, i love you," he groaned as he kissed you fervently, his pace still set relatively slower than usual. "so much, y/n."

"i love- i love you," you moaned, removing your hands from his only so you could wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling his body closer to yours. "spence, spence i'm so close," you whined in his ear, which only egged him on.

"i've got you, y/n," he pulled back to look at you as you came on his dick. "let go. let go for me," he moved a piece of hair from your face once more as your mouth flew open in pure bliss. your nails dug into his back as your pussy clenched around him, bringing upon his own orgasm, spurts of his releasing covering your walls. "fuck, y/n," he groaned, burying his neck into your shoulder before you pulled it out, wanting to observe him in such a vulnerable state.

"i love you," you whispered, only him able to hear it.

"i love you," he whispered back, pressing your foreheads together as he caught his breath.

when he managed to pull out, he found a new pair of underwear and pulled them on before going to grab you a fresh pair of his clothes to wear to sleep - you liked that they smelled like him, it helped you sleep better.

"where're you goin'?" you whined from the bed, trying to sit up abruptly but only finding a shooting pain going through your abdomen.

"shhh," he whispered, rushing to the side of the bed to guide you back to laying down. his hands found your shoulders and right before he was going to release them, you grabbed his hands.

"are you leaving me again?" you asked pitifully, tears welling in your eyes.

"no, sweetheart," he furrowed his brows. "i'm never going to leave you," he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"i know... i know i can be annoying like you said and i'm working on it," you looked down at your hands, which were now in your lap. "just please be patient?"

"you don't need to work on anything," he wiped the tears from your cheeks. "i never should have said those things to you, whether or not i was upset. i'm so sorry i made you doubt yourself," you found yourself wiping his own tears away. "now let's get you into the bathroom, okay?" you nodded as he helped you get up, guiding you to the bathroom to relieve yourself.

while you were doing your business, he went and got you that change of clothes you needed and brought them to you once you were done. he used a damp, warm washcloth to clean up between your legs and made sure to wash your face for you. he helped you get changed, letting you use him as a balancing bar, and then directed you back to the bed. he rest his head on his pillow, looking over and seeing you still on your side of the bed, not curling up into him as you usually do.

"y/n," he whispered. "i know you're probably still mad at me, which is totally fine because just because we had sex doesn't mean i'm done making it up to you. but... it's kind of harder to sleep without you cuddling with me than i thought. so if you're alright with it can we just..." he trailed off.

"spence?" you asked with a giggle.

"hmm?"

"i'm not supposed to sleep on my stomach or side," you held back a laugh, knowing it would hurt. "i mean, i'm glad we're on the same page about you still making it up to me, but it's kinda doctor's orders that i don't sleep like that."

"oh..." he bit his lip, trying to keep himself from feeling too embarrassed. "right. can we hold hands while we sleep then?" he asked, acting as if he had found a loophole.

"now who's touchy?" you joked, hurting your stomach from the laughter but finding that it was worth it.

"ha-ha," he mocked. "very funny, y/n," he groaned.

"yes, darling," you joked once more. "of course we can hold hands while we sleep."

and you did.

and for the first night in a week, you slept peacefully.

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@emilyprentisslittlewhore

[jewish-space-laser]

ok i have an idea for a cbl blurb? could u do a blurb from harry’s pov from the night where he got drunk and how he felt when he saw yn and stuff? ik it already happened but i think seeing it from his viewpoint would be interesting!

Could be Lethal - Part Three (Harry’s POV)

“And every time I’ve held a rose, It seems I only felt the thorns, And so it goes, and so it goes, And so will you soon I suppose...”

– And So It Goes, Billie Joel

HELLO EVERYONE! It’s been months since I’ve posted anything on here, but I randomly got the motivation to pick this up last week. I apologize in advance for my rusty writing skills! This ask has literally been sitting in my inbox for 10 months, so posting it actually feels quite cleansing. Anyway, here is a (long) blurb full of angst, angst, and you guessed it, angst! I hope you love Harry’s take of that night as much as I do. I love you all muchly, thank you for your ongoing love and support <3 xoxoxoxoxoxoxooox Tile

(3.8k word)

You and Harry were friends, with a capital ‘F’. Yeah, you’ve been sleeping in his bed for the past two months, and maybe your entire nervous system goes into hyperdrive when you’re in the same room, but that’s normal, right?

or

The one where you and Harry have an arrangement… of the cuddling sort.

 See the CBL masterlist here!

WARNING: Detailed descriptions of heavy drinking

~~~

It was bullshit. It was all bullshit. 

Harry was miserable. He knew it, his friends knew it, his family knew it… it seemed the only person who wasn’t picking up on his desperation was you. 

You were a complete enigma to him. Sometimes, you were the warmest, most open person he’d ever met, indulging him with interesting conversations, stupid jokes, and even the occassional existential discussion. It was always difficult for Harry to truly open up to a person, having been jaded time and time again by people who weren’t able to look past his famous exterior. 

That’s what makes it so much harder, he thinks. Knowing you properly, you knowing him properly. It made the moments where you were closed off harsher, colder, more difficult to read. 

Since you left his house two days prior, he had done just about anything he could to take his mind off of you. He loved thinking about you, but he also hated thinking about you. It was tortuous and circular and he just wanted a brief moment of emotional respite. 

No, he didn’t want respite, he needed it. 

So he watched all three Lord of the Rings movies in a row, tested out a new stir fry recipe, spent way too much money online shopping, and even scrolled through the Humane Society website in a moment of weakness. But none of it mattered, because even if he could distract himself for a moment, you were still there, lingering in the peripherals of his mind like a song stuck in his head. 

It was dizzying and mind-boggling, and Harry was at a loss for what to do. So when Sunday morning rolled around and it still felt like his lungs were being crushed into a ball, he started drinking. 

It was only 8:00AM, but he bypassed the coffee cabinet and went straight to the fridge, pulling out a chilled bottle of champagne. The pop of the cork was as loud as a gunshot, but Harry didn’t even flinch, hardly registering the sound of it hitting the floor across the room as he rushed the bottle to his lips. 

Bubbles fizzed past his tongue and dripped down his chin, sliding down his bare chest before puddling on the floor. He had to squeeze his eyes shut tightly at the burn of the carbonation, but each gulp sent pleasant tingles over his skin. 

For the first time in ages, his mind felt numb. He didn’t necessarily feel good, but he didn’t feel miserable anymore, and that’s what mattered. He could close his eyes without seeing your smile flash in his head, he could listen to music without immediately relating the lyrics to you, and after his second bottle of wine, he was even able to brew a cup of coffee without thinking of you. 

Okay, maybe he thought of you a little. 

At some point, he passed out on the couch, cartons of Vietnamese takeout sitting cold on his coffee table. When his eyes finally blinked open, the sun had already started to set.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself. There was a familiar ache pulsing behind his eyes, and he groaned loudly into his empty house. It never used to feel empty, but now you’d come and gone, and it was too late. You’d left your mark on his house and his coffee and his heart… so he drank more. 

There was no more wine, so he started in on his collection of hard liquor, expensive bottles lined on top of his cupboards. Normally they were reserved for when he had guests over, but this fell into the realm of desperation. His sunken eyes scanned the glass bottles before settling on the cheapest of them, an unopened Maker’s Mark. It would do. 

He was pouring a healthy sized glass of the whisky, and then suddenly he wasn’t. His heavy eyes blinked in confusion as he stared across the bar at the bartender, who was raising his eyebrows expectantly. 

“That’ll be thirty-five pounds, mate,” the bartender said, “got roped into buying the first round, eh?”

“Yeah,” Harry grunted, glancing over his shoulder to see Thomas and Jessie watching him from a booth. 

He doesn’t remember leaving his house, let alone coming to the pub with his friends. In fact, if he tried to think about it, his memory of the entire day felt fragmented, like pieces of a puzzle that didn’t quite fit together. 

In his mind, this was a success. A full day gone without thinking about you or talking to you or seeing you. The clock behind the bar read 00:43 in red neon numbers. He took one of the shots quickly, signing the bill and taking the remaining five back to his friends. 

“Harry mate, we told you we’re not getting pissed tonight,” Thomas groaned, “what’d you get six shots for?”

“What kind are they?” Jessie asked, wrinkling their nose. 

“I dunno,” Harry shrugged, setting the tray down directly in front of himself. His vision swayed to and fro, but he still managed to down another shot, disregarding the concerned look his friends shared. “It’s rum. If you don’t want any, that’s fine.”

“It’s a Sunday, mate,” Thomas reminded him gently.

“We’re at a pub, aren’t we?” Harry slurred. “Supposed to get drunk here.”

“You asked us to come here,” Jessie said slowly, “said you needed to talk to us about something.”

Harry blinked at them slowly, swaying slightly in his seat. He didn’t remember any of this. 

“Actually, he said he needed a drink,” Thomas corrected, “I didn’t realize he meant twenty drinks.”

Another shot burned down his throat, and then everything was cold. 

“Harry.”

His head was pounding. Every limb felt heavy. He couldn’t bear to open his eyes, already overwhelmed by the echo of Thomas’s voice reverberating off of the tile floors. 

“Harry.”

He knew that somebody was trying to get his attention, but he just couldn’t. The alcohol had done its job for most of the day, keeping his brain muddled down and diluted just to spare him the pain of remembering. But now, it backfired, trapping him inside his own head with no way out, with nothing to do but remember. He could hear people talking in the background, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. It was as if he was underwater, slipping further and further down with each painful clench of his heart.

He felt a hand press against his arm, and jerked away, causing his stomach to twist. He didn’t want to be here anymore, and he certainly didn’t want to be bothered. 

“G’way, Thomas,” he managed to grunt. 

“It’s me.”

Your voice was clear as crystal to him, but he knew it couldn’t be real. You had left him, after all.

The image of you driving away from his house was burned into his memory, playing over and over again in slow motion. If he thought hard enough, he could even remember the way your body had felt beneath his, whining and squirming and gasping, just like he’d always dreamed about. He could remember the sunken expression on your face the next morning, the heavy silence of the car ride to the coffee shop. He could remember how he’d hoped, so badly, that you’d finally talk about it, this unspoken connection that could no longer be denied. Most of all, he remembers the way his heart dropped when you told him that you didn’t remember any of it.

Another gentle brush, this time along his hairline, and he managed to open his eyes just a sliver. 

You looked amazing. Well, there were circles under your eyes, you were wearing your pajamas and slippers, and you were frowning in concern, but to Harry, you were the most beautiful thing. 

 “You’re here… y’really here….” he sighed. 

You were crouched in front of him, holding a plastic cup of water, and all he wanted to do was pull you into his chest. You looked sleepy and cosy, just like you always did when you stayed over. Before he could reach out to pull you close, you were putting the rim of the cup against his bottom lip.

He took it, grateful for the relief it provided his dry mouth. For the first time since he came to, he took in his surroundings. He was in a single stall bathroom, curled on the floor next to the toilet. The walls were an ugly pale yellow, while the floors were white, making the streaks of dirt and grime more noticeable than ever. Thomas was leaning against the sink across the room, watching you as you tried to get him to finish the cup. 

“Y’look so pretty, always look so good,” Harry slurred, “just wanna snuggle, like we always do.”

He loved the way your mouth dropped open. Everything about you was endearing, really. He watched as you twisted your head to say something to Thomas, water sloshing around in the cup when you nodded your head quickly. Thomas left immediately after, but Harry hardly even noticed. 

When you turned back around to face him, he felt blinded. Despite the dark circles under your eyes, they’re bright and they pierce through him just like always. He loves the color of your skin and the shape of your nose and the little crease that forms between your eyebrows when you’re anxious. He thinks he could probably paint you with his eyes closed. 

Warmth licked across his skin when you brushed your fingertips against his forehead, tucking a stray lock of hair back into place. Harry leaned into your touch, unwilling to let the moment pass too quickly. 

“Can you try taking a sip of water, H?” You tilted your head. “For me?”

He could have laughed, had he not been so nauseated. He would do anything for you normally, but he really did feel awful. “G’na make me sick,” he insisted, wrinkling his nose at the cup in your hand. Even though he could hardly focus, his eyes zeroed in on the faded X scrawled in sharpie on the back of your hand, a souvenir from your night out at TAVERN. He had a matching mark on his hand, and he dreaded the moment the ink would wash off fully. Just another thing forgotten.

He just wanted you.  

He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but the look on your face told him that it had slipped out. There was no way he regretted it though, not with you right in front of him. Not in this state of mind. 

“It’s gonna make you feel better, and then we can go home,” you urged softly, scooting a tiny bit closer to him.

Home. When he thought of home, he thought about mornings in his house, sunlight filtering in through the blinds and leaving shadowed stripes across your skin. Home was the way you squinted your eyes tighter together right before waking up. Home was you at his kitchen table, going off at him about not doing his dishes. 

“Y’coming home w’me?” He managed to say. Your eyes softened.

“Only if you drink this whole cup,” you lifted it up to him once again, gingerly tilting his head up with a finger on his chin. Even though he felt like his stomach would combust if tried to swallow anything, he allowed you to help him drink some water. Some sloshed messily onto his shirt, but it felt sobering. You met his eyes for a moment, “is that good?”

“I’d do anything for you.”

If you asked him to drink water, he would drink water. He would drink an entire ocean of water. It was achingly clear to literally everybody but you. He could tattoo your name over his heart and you still wouldn’t see.

You gulped loudly, but didn’t say a word, simply prompting him to take another sip of water. He wished more than anything that you’d say something. Make some kind of facial expression. He just wanted a signal, a sign, that you felt anything towards him; disgust, affection, pity. 

He was sure you must pity him. 

Harry drank the rest of the water, cheeks burning as he asked you for a refill. He was still drunk, but the fog had cleared enough for him to sit up straight without feeling like he was going to hurl. He watched you refill the cup in the sink that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in decades, but that was honestly the least of his concerns. 

“Y’must think I’m pathetic,” he grumbled, squeezing his eyes shut and tilting his head back against the wall. “Can’t lose you.”

“You haven’t lost me,” he heard you say quietly.

But it felt like he had. Because even though you were friends, it wouldn’t be the same if he couldn’t fall asleep to the sound of your soft exhales. It wouldn’t be the same if he couldn’t feel that rush of excitement when you sneakily texted him under the table on nights out. Having you at a distance could never be enough. 

“Harry…” you sighed, rubbing your eyes, “why did you drink so much tonight?”

If your obliviousness hadn’t been so devastating, he would have laughed. How could you sit here with him, look into his eyes, and not see that his heart was entirely in your hands? How could he explain anything to you if you hadn’t already seen it?

So he wouldn’t try. Not right now. 

He mustered up the strength to push up onto his knees, managing to stand up fully with your steady grip on his arms. He took one shaky step as his head spun, and felt your arms snake around his waist to keep him balanced. Without even thinking about it, he wrapped his arm over your shoulder, reveling in the feeling of having you so close as you helped him out of the toilet. 

You brought him to a stop in the main room by the bar, and he couldn’t help but bury his nose into the top of your head. You smelled just like you always did. It had only been a few nights, but your scent was already fading on his bedsheets. 

“Y’smell like lavender,” he hummed, squeezing your arm lightly, “s’like you’re tryin; t’torture me…. So pretty.”

It really was torture, having you hold onto him as you both walked out of the pub. You were distracting, with your warm skin and soft hands. Each step was difficult; his feet were heavy as anvils and he just wanted to curl up right here on the sidewalk. 

Just as he was considering plopping down on the pavement, he heard the familiar beep of your car opening. He closed his eyes once he was sat in the passenger seat, feeling you fuss over his seatbelt. He flinched slightly when you slid a cold water bottle between his knees.

Harry blinked, and then suddenly you were buckled in behind the steering wheel, poking his arm and peering at him with tired eyes. “Can you stay awake for me, H? Just till we get to your house, okay?”

“Y’coming to my house?”

You were so good to him, all the time. By the looks of your attire, you were ready to be in bed hours ago, yet here you were, patient as ever.

“Yes, I’m taking you home,” you said through a yawn. 

“Miss having you at my house,” Harry exhaled. He didn’t even know what he was saying really, just the same thoughts and memories circling through his mind like planets around the sun, all them centered on you. “My sheets don’t smell like you anymore.”

Suddenly, he felt hot all over. His trousers were too scratchy against his skin, his palms felt clammy, and the longer you stayed silent on the other side of the car, his stomach started turning. In an effort to cool off and calm down, he let his head fall against the window, the cool glass soothing his skin. 

Drunk or not, he was trying to tell you how he feels, he was constantly trying to tell you how he feels… and you didn’t say a word. You never did. It was so frustrating that he found himself biting back tears. 

Finally, after what felt like hours, you cleared your throat. “You can’t…” your voice cracked, “you can’t say things like that, Harry. It hurts me when you say things like that.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” Harry managed to say. “But it’s the truth.”

He was so confused. How on earth could you be hurting when he was sitting here with his arms wide open? Was he so repulsive that the mere thought of being with him caused you pain, somehow?

He was too drunk for this. 

Luckily, you seemed to be on the wavelength. “Let’s just… not talk,” you said, shoulders slumped. 

Harry was feeling awfully dejected himself. He’d spent the last few days trying to cope with his complicated feelings, and now he was back at square one. Every time he thought he knew where the two of you stood, you would say something vague and he would start all over. Your relationship was like a house of cards; delicate, fragile, and knocked to the ground with the slightest shift, the tiniest gust of wind. 

The headache started out small, but by the time you pulled your car into Harry’s driveway, he was feeling like he might keel over. Somehow, he was simultaneously drunk and hungover. If he was going to make it up the stairs to his room, he was going to need something in his stomach, and water that wasn’t from a pub bathroom.

It was humiliating enough that he’d needed you to help him from the car, but upon entering his house, he nearly kicked his shoe through the living room window, grumbling about toast. He knew he’d been less than impressive tonight, but perhaps this was what you needed -- seeing him at rock bottom -- to finally open up and have a real conversation about what you could be. 

When he woke up in the morning, he would be sober, and he would be ready. He would make you coffee like he always does, and maybe he’d even run out and pick up fresh pastries.

“Want some toast,” he said, though he was fairly certain he’d said it once already. 

You were standing in front of him, toes just inches apart, and it felt instinctive to place his hands on your waist and pull you in. The silk pajama top you were wearing was cool against his hands, but he could feel the heat of your skin underneath, the frantic thumping of your heart against your ribcage tickling his fingertips.

Your hands were on his shoulders to keep him steady, but he was suddenly feeling more sober than he had all night. All day, really. 

Harry slid his hands further behind you, locking together behind your back. Having you close felt incredible. It hadn’t even been three days since he last saw you, yet every atom in his body was craving your touch.

“You, um,” he felt your shaky whale against his collar bone, “you have to let go of me if you want me to make you toast.”

Letting go of you felt physically impossible, so instead, Harry dipped his head down and rested his forehead against yours. The anticipation was excruciating as he waited for you to do what you always did: sink into his arms, wrap yourself around him, soothe him to sleep with the weight of your head on his chest.

Fissures cracked through his heart when you pushed him back, taking a single step back that may as well have been a mile. Suddenly, the air all around him felt cold, the room felt darker, the silence felt louder. He took a deep breath in, but still felt like he was suffocating.

“Do you really not remember?”

He needed to know. He had done everything in his power to think about anything else, but had somehow ended up here, standing face to face with you. He wonders if this is how it was supposed to be, if throwing you together over and over again was the universe’s ultimate plan, if all of this misery would be worth it in the end. 

He’d experienced heartbreak before, but this was something else. And when you choked out, “Harry, please don’t make me say it,” in the smallest voice he’d ever heard you use, he knew that he could write millions of records about the pain of this moment, and still never do it justice.

“You remember, don’t you?”

All you did was nod your head once, but he suddenly felt drained. Maybe it was the full day of heavy, reckless drinking… or maybe it was the realization that things really might not work out. He still wanted to try, though. Even though you’d left the other day, there were countless other times you had stayed. For months you’d been coming over in secret, coming out of your shell and showing him how amazing you really were. That had to count for something; there had to be a reason. 

Coffee. He would make coffee in the morning and the two of you would fix everything. 

“Should we head to bed? ‘S getting kind of late, y’must be exhausted.”

You really did look tired, your eyes rimmed with red from yawning over and over, back hunched and shoulders slumped. He was feeling knackered himself, and was more than ready for this night to be over.

“Actually… I think I’m gonna head back home,” you gulped. Harry felt like he’d been slapped, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. It’s as if you’d turned to sand; there one moment and slipping through his fingers the next.

“You don’t want to stay?” Harry tried to keep his voice even, but even he could hear how it wavered. He clenched his jaw to keep from crying.

“I just… have to go home,” you said, looking everywhere but at him. 

He waited for you to say something else, but instead watched as you hoisted your purse further up onto your shoulder and walked out the door. Shell shocked, he stood there frozen, even as your headlights disappeared down the street. 

A long breath blew past his lips as he finally moved to lock his front door, any hope of you walking back through it dashed by the way you’d walked out for a second time. 

Harry likely would have benefited from a glass of water and pain medication, but with a buzzing brain and a shattered heart, all he could manage was to pass out on the couch fully clothed, dreaming about what might have been if you had just stayed.  

~~~

As always, let me know what you think! I love talking to you <3 xoxoxoxox Tile

[boognish-worshipper]

Midnight City AU

i’ve been having fun writing this story, all these lil snippets n pieces comin together n shit,,, but i also find myself getting so frustrated writing sometimes even tho ik that’s a given with literally creating anything 😭 anyway uhhhh scheming shit ensues in this chapter, and we see another familiar pal pop up 🙏 also included obligatory reference to those aesthetic photos with song lyrics 🏃‍♀️💥

//Chapter 2: Oblivion

The vinyl store was a short walk from Sterling Lake, but Ron and Trevor decided to run there like idiots. Trevor was out of breath by the time they got there placing his hands on his knees, while Ron looked ready to keel over and pass out, pressing a hand against the front of the store.

“Remind me why we chose to run here?”

“So we could,” Ron wheezed out a breath, inhaling deep to stable himself.

“So we could hurry up and get Wade.”

“It was a rhetorical question.”

“Right. Sorry Trevor.”

Trevor swung the door open hastily, calling out for Wade right away. A head with muddy locs popped up in their direction.

“Hey Trevor! Hi Ron!”

“Wade! Get over here, no time for pleasantries!”

Wade rushed over to meet them outside.

“Get out of my G-damn store Trevor!”

“I’m going, Debra. Say hi to lovely Floyd for me, will ya?”

“Get out!”

The trio walked away from the place, not knowing where to head next.

“Let’s go talk in my truck, where we won’t be… disturbed by any fuckwad wearing Andés brand sherpa jackets. Why do they even need jackets out here? It’s like 90 degrees all the time!”

He was parked across the way from Sterling Lake, and as he went, he tried his best to avoid running into the clique of phony fucks. The minute they all piled in, Trevor peeled out so loudly it was surprising he tried being discrete at all.

“So, Ron. Fill Wade in.”

“What’s goin’ on?”

“It’s the Merryweather Night Club.”

“Ooh, are we goin’ in to see them pretty girls dance?”

“No, Wade.” Trevor interjected.

“Then what-“

“It’s about Steve.”

“Who?”

Trevor impatiently shot out a breath, trying his best to breakdown the situation to Wade. He put a hand to his face briefly before speaking again.

“Haines, Wade. Steven fuckin’ Haines.”

“Ohh him! That fancy dude at the park.”

“Yeah. The fancy dude at the park.”

“What about him?”

“Well Ron here caught word that Devin Weston is hosting some big event there for Haines and his crew.”

“We invited or somethin’?”

“For fucks sake- No, Wade. We’re gonna plan out how to completely crash and wreck the party, so we can get that club the fuck out of here.”

“How’re we gonna do that?”

“Well first, we’re gonna scope the place out. Get a better idea of what we’re dealing with here.”

Trevor thought to himself that if he didn’t have a good look from the outside, that’d he’d have to get a layout of the floor plans himself. It’s not like he hadn’t visited the club before, but he hadn’t been… sober exactly when he dropped by those few times. So it was basically like seeing it for the first time. If he couldn’t get much from the outside, he knew only one person who could accomplish getting the layout of the place.

“We’re almost there, get ready to do some creeping boys.”

The sun was setting, and soon it would be dark out. And when it got dark in Los Santos, it got dark. The only way the city could be visible was from the surplus of lights that were nearly everywhere, except for a few places. They at least had some darkness to rely on so they wouldn’t be spotted right away. Trevor parked a block away, and the three of them hid on the rooftop of the building across the way. Neon lights flickered on, reading “MERRYWEATHER’S SUNNY DAYS NIGHT CLUB”.

“Such a stupid fucking name. I mean, why is it called Sunny Days if it’s a night club?!” Trevor angrily muttered.

As the sky grew dark, the club began to stir, with some random rhythmic song starting up. Ron lifted a pair of binoculars he brought with him, and gasped.

“There he is! Mr. Weston himself!”

Trevor snatched the binoculars from Ron, causing him to crash into his side.

“Uh, Trevor, it’s still around my neck.”

“Then take it the fuck off, before I take it off for you.”

He fumbled around with it, tossing it into Trevor’s hands. Below them, he saw Devin standing outside, with a pristine woman beside him. Trevor whistled lowly, so they wouldn’t be heard.

“That lady’s wayyy out of that fucker’s league.”

He watched them speak to the bouncer outside, hearing them laugh about something before heading in.

“They’re probably laughing it up now, plotting their next move to take over the city!”

“Shut up Ron, we lost them.”

He growled in frustration, handing the binoculars back to Ron.

“Let’s sneak ‘round back, maybe we’ll see something there.”

As they left, Trevor made a mental note of where the Merryweather bouncers were placed. Two burly men guarded the entrance, with a thick velvety rope not too far in front of it. They had to avoid the streetlights, seeing as people like them were sure to raise suspicion being near one of the hottest night clubs in LS. He couldn’t be made, not when he already had a reputation there.

“Alright Ron, you see anything?”

They hid near a dumpster, away from the lights.

“Not really, it’s too dark-“

Suddenly, the back door swung open. Ron and Trevor ducked while Wade’s eyes were transfixed on who was coming out. Trevor yanked him down, holding a finger to his lips.

“So I says to him, ‘You ain’t payin’ me enough to stay on this failure of a fuckin’ show Solomon!’, old guy flipped the fuck out.”

“That’s that Pelosi actor though!” Wade said, rather loudly.

“Wade! Shh!”

“And then I- wait a minute. The fuck was that?”

“Shit! Shit!” Ron panicked.

“Yo!” Pelosi started to walk in their direction.

“We better get out of here. Now.”

All three of them scrambled up to run off back to Trevor’s truck.

“Get back here! Security!” The actor began to chase them, along with one of the Merryweather guards.

They continued to run down the block, Trevor breaking into a sprint so he could start the car up before anyone caught up to them.

“Get in! Get the fuck in!”

The truck revved up, and Trevor drove off in a haste. Even though it didn’t go as planned, Trevor couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

“Whew! What a rush, huh?”

“Rush?! We almost got caught, Trevor!”

“Yeah, only because Wade couldn’t keep it down for 5 fuckin’ seconds.”

“I’m sorry! That Pelosi guy is famous! I ain’t ever seen a actor up close.”

“Yeah, but he’s already washed up. Nothing special.”

“Isn’t he our age? How can he be washed up if he’s still-“

“Can it, Wade.”

Trevor came to the conclusion that there wasn’t enough visibility of the place from the outside. It didn’t have a single window. He mumbled to himself that he needed to go see a friend of his. The travel to El Burro Heights didn’t take long, with Trevor telling the other two to wait in the truck.

“Ron, please make sure he doesn’t do anything dumb.”

“Got it.”

“It was one time!”

He made his way up the steps, banging on the door. He lifted his head up to the outdoor camera, snarling at it.

“Let me the fuck in Wheels!”

The front door clicked open, and Trevor walked right in. He shut it behind him, and trotted over to a bedroom.

“Trevor. Didn’t think I’d see much of you again.”

“Neither did I old friend.”

“What is it. What do you want.”

The room was lit up with aqua and pink shades, a visual of a permanent sunset on his computer. Some kind of synth music played faintly. A nerdy looking guy was seated in a wheelchair next to a set up that looked like it was pulled right from the 90s, various posters and novelty items strewn about.

“Let me cut to the chase. It’s Merryweather again.”

“Again? Trevor, I thought we agreed you’d leave them alone!”

“Ah ah ah! I didn’t finish, Lest. Get this, there’s some big event going on soon. Steve Haines- some big get together with him and his posse of lame-os.”

“Really? Devin’s letting those guys in? I thought it was all big name people.”

“Yeah, well Steve isn’t exactly poor Lester. I thought we both knew that.”

“Duh, but still. He’s not exactly Devin’s type of crowd.”

“No no no, I think they might be in kahoots. Planning something.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Hmm. Let me see…”

He turned to the computer, clacking away on his keyboard. It was rather vintage looking, and Trevor was surprised it worked at all. Lester was into technology more than he was though, so he probably worked some kind of magic on it.

“Hm. You’re right. Seems like they’ve known one another for quite some time. Guess their dads work together.”

“Fuckin’ daddy’s boys.”

“But, I still don’t think interfering with that party is a good idea.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“You’ve had enough run ins with the both of them already.”

“But if we infiltrated the club, we could get it shut down!”

“What are you planning, some sort of raid? You and your buddies? 2 other people isn’t much to work with if you wanna take down one of the most popular clubs here.”

“That’s why I came to you!”

“For what?”

“So you could do your cyber shit, find the floor plans or something!”

“You know that’s gonna take a long time, right? I mean, getting the blueprints, not to mention finding other people who’re on board with the idea of it all-”

“Well no shit.”

“Are you paying me?”

“What?”

“I said, are you paying me?”

“What the fuck would I need to pay you for?”

“Taking time out of my day to get that done for you.”

“Right. Because you’re sooo busy.”

Lester frowned slightly, upset by the remark.

“I’m gonna just ignore that. Anyway, I’m not asking for a whole lot. Just something for the effort I’m putting in to find the plans.”

“So you’ll do it?”

“What choice do I have?”

“Absolutely none my friend!” He said, grin wide.

“Y’know you’re still gonna need to assemble a crew that doesn’t consist of only your… minions or whatever. That’s your part. Now shoo, let me do my thing.”

“Oh Lester the Molester you never let me down!” He said, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“I told you to stop calling me that!”

“Aww, and here I thought you liked it!”

“Just go already. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right. No funny business.”

“But funny business is my specialty!”

“Oh my God, go!”

He made his way back over to the truck, seeing Wade passed out in the back. Slamming a hand on the truck bed, he yelled for him to wake up.

“Boys! We got some recruiting to do.”

“Wh-what? What d’ya mean? Who are we gonna find? I thought it was just gonna be us-”

“We’re not taking out one of the biggest clubs in LS on our own, Ron.”

“But I-”

“No buts! Now let’s go.”

They all drove across the city, back to the apartment complex Floyd lived in, Wade’s place being the first one you see pulling in. He had been nice enough to pitch in some cash to pay his rent, seeing as Wade basically had no money to begin with. The trio brainstormed for a bit, chattering away about needing to find people who hated those guys just as much as they did, before Wade and Ron promptly passed out. Trevor threw on a random shuffled playlist to keep him occupied as they slept, and some song he’d never heard before played. Some artist called Grimes? The intro was wobbly, like someone was shaking laminated paper. He kept it on, liking how funky it sounded. The music reverberated loud in his ears, the singer’s voice light and dreamlike compared to the dark, heavy tone of the song. It was the experimental stuff Trevor was into. He opened nosedivr, scrolling through his usual feed. This was a thing he did often when he couldn’t sleep. As he kept going through posts, he noticed he still followed Amanda; they stopped being friends long ago and the task of removing her on there slipped his mind. She had posted a new photo though, and he instantly recognized who she was with just from the shoes. It was that Michael guy.

@krystal-klear-tears

𝔦 𝔱𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢, 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔢 𝔬𝔫 𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔥 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔶𝔬𝔲.

#grunge aesthetic #lana del rey #lyrics #black and white aesthetic

His finger hovered over the reblog button, and he hesitated. What was he doing right now? He didn’t give a shit who Amanda was with anymore. Michael was just another name, another face, another person she was just gonna dump later on. She could never do commitment. That was the one thing he knew for sure in the period of time they had been friends. Amanda wasn’t exactly a bad person for it, she just didn’t express her feelings in the best way. It was why she jumped from guy to guy. They didn’t need anything more than her facade, her surface level personality. So when the time came that she would be close to showing her true colors, she’d cut them off. Trevor didn’t like that. If there was one thing he truly could not stand, it was people being two-faced. He wished Amanda embraced herself more. But like he said, it was whatever now. Soon enough, he wouldn’t see anymore posts like that.

Still, he figured he could unfollow her another day. Part of him did wanna see how long this one would last. Was that bad? Maybe. Who cares. By the time he had finished scrolling mindlessly on his phone, he’d finally grown tired. He wanted to dream about tomorrow, because tomorrow promised a plan in the works, and it was fucking spectacular. He couldn’t let something so meaningless like a new boyfriend of hers distract him. Yet despite that, he still found himself wanting to know more. This was the first guy in a while that Amanda got with that she didn’t run to tell him about. It felt… strange. But again, he couldn’t let that distract him from what was at the front of his mind. He didn’t have time for that. He had to focus on Merryweather first and foremost. Shutting his eyes, a smile grew on his face. He was finally gonna take those stupid fucks down.

//sorry if these seem short rn,,, it’s gonna be a slow build up tbh. it’ll be worth it later on when i complete future chapters lol. don’t wanna rush it too much ,, also i feel like i’m gonna accidentally make this sound all over the place so uh apologies in advance 💯 i will go into more detail abt amanda n trevor’s friendship in this too btw so expect that eventually ig

[sylvie-writes]

Petty Golfers

Warnings: Swearing, but what can you expect with a Ransom fic? Some cheesy, real bitchy moves. Bad depictions of golfing. Some suggestive material, but not rlly? Dad Ransom! There’s so much affection that I might have diabetes from all the fluff.

If you can’t tell, I suck at writing summaries and warnings. Please just take a leap of faith and read. It took me a week to write this and we are at a whopping 7k word count. So please leave some feedback, ik I sound desperate. Love y’all! 

Summary: A trip to the country club with Ransom and his aristocratic friends goes south.

“Ransom! Your mother is on the phone!” 

You were curled up on the sofa when Ransom’s phone rang, a picture of Mrs. Drysdale herself showing up. She rarely ever called, except to bitch at you or her son. Out of curiosity, you had answered the call, unknowingly becoming an victim to her demands.

“Get Ransom for me.” 

“He’s on his way down.”

“Tell him to make it quick.”

Who the hell did she think she was? You rolled your eyes, annoyed at her demand. The phone that was once pressed against your ear, was now pulled away from your face. 

“Ransom! Your mother is on the phone!” 

A quick huff from your mouth made you regain composure, continuing your ‘conversation’ with the woman. 

“Why did you answer my son’s phone, anyway.”

Linda’s tone was cold, just as when you had first met her. In the five years you had been with Ransom, not once had she shown you any form of kindness. 

Sick of her impertinence, you shoved back a snarky remark.

“Well, I don’t know if you know this, darling, but I’m dating your son! Actually I’m even engaged to him!”

Her end of the line was silent except for a loud scoff. 

It was about time that Linda learned you weren’t some obedient dog, cowering down to her like Richard or Walt would.

“That’s my girl!”

Ransom, thank the heavens.

Turning your gaze to the stairs, you saw Ransom wearing a smirk, sauntering his way over. 

The man bent down to kiss your lips before swiping his phone. You could practically imagine Linda’s screeching fit to her son and husband about what just happened. Clearly, it was actually happening as you heard Ransom nonchalantly reply, “That's not my problem.” 

You took this time to get cleaned up and ready, seeing Ransom was currently occupied and would be for at least the next hour. 

This was the first time you were gonna go golfing with Ransom and his friends. It was pretty obvious they were all gonna show up in Castore golf clothing, while you opted to wear a coral Columbia polo shirt and navy skort, caring less about the name of the brand and more about its versatility. 

After applying some minimal makeup, you walked out from the bathroom to take a peek in the bedroom mirror.

The coral polo was neatly tucked into the navy skort, stopping mid-thigh. Taking your hands, you slowly smoothed out the shirt, stopping on your small baby bump. About 22 weeks in, and you were already in love with this child. 

“Hi, little lemondrop. Oh goodness, are we gonna have a long day, honey.” 

As you talked to your baby, Ransom quietly snuck into the room, smiling at how great of a mother you are already turning out to be. In his mind, he figured at least the child would have one good parent figure.  

“Hey Sweetheart, sorry to interrupt, but I found you some golf shoes that should be comfortable.” 

You looked up into the mirror to see Ransom behind you, with a big grin on his face and a pair of white golf shoes in his hand. 

“Thanks, Ran.” 

A bashful smile spread on your lips as you took the shoes. A part of you felt guilty for him getting you these shoes, but you knew he didn’t mind. Unfortunately, your feet and calves had already started swelling due to the pregnancy induced edema. 

A quick trip to the bed, and you sat on the edge, struggling to get your shoes on, while Ransom was in the closet getting changed into his own golf attire. 

Ransom confidently stepped out in all his glory, a navy polo and some light khaki shorts, that clung to his muscular physique. Your eyes were glued to him in awe and like the cocky asshole he is, a smirk grew on his face.

“Like what you see, Babe?”

“Oh shut up, Drysdale.” 

You threw your shoe at him which he so expertfully caught. He gave a teasing smile and raised his hands in surrender before making his way to the edge of the bed where you were sitting. Getting down on one knee, Ransom gently picked up your foot and put it in the shoe, tying the laces, but not too tight. 

“Hmm, this feels vaguely familiar.” 

Yup, Mr. Silver-Spoon Fed, was down on the ground, putting on your shoes. In his own words he’d only do the “Helps” part for you.

Once Ransom was done tying your shoe, he motioned to himself on his knee, trying to provoke the memory of when he proposed months ago. 

Leaning forward, you placed your hands on his shoulder, and pecked his lips.

“I do.” 

With a wink, you got up and left the room, also leaving Ransom on the floor, as he just chuckled to himself. 

In all honesty you were dreading the day’s agenda. Ransom was taking you to the country club for a few holes of golf with his friends and their newest set of girlfriends.

Even though you had met Ransom’s friends and all, you could tell they had never liked you from the beginning. Eventually, with some work, Bently and Dylan warmed up to you. Without doubt, you understood why they were Ransom’s friends. They were exactly like him in every way, lifestyle and all.

In the years you had known the two men, Mallory and Samantha were the longest to stick around so far. Five months to be exact. This was an outstretched time of fidelity for the life-long playboys.

Maybe the men were trying to somewhat settle down like Ransom had.

The two women were standoffish from the start, always talking about things you never really cared about. Their lame attempt at trying to make you feel like an outsider was just straight-up annoying. When they did include you, it was a constant conversation about Ransom. You loved him and all, but if you were gonna be friends with these chicks, they might as well like you for you and not your fiance.  

Out of all the ‘lady friends’ the guys had brought, Mallory and Samantha were total bitches in comparison to the rest. And no, you weren’t jumping to conclusions and making assumptions about these women. Life had given you a fair share of bullies back in your day. 

This whole ordeal could be marked as the most uncomfortable thing you’ve done in your life. 

Mallory and Samantha were anything but friendly, going on and on about a Versace fashion show, and some model, from last month. Inwardly you reminded yourself that you were doing this for Ransom, who was having the time of his life with Bentley and Dylan. How they could have this much fun golfing, was beyond you. 

The three guys golfed while you three ladies stood watching and chatting. In a more accurate account, the three guys golfed while the two ladies stood watching and chatting about purposeless things in life, deliberately leaving you out.  

Well, come to find out all along you really weren’t gonna play golf, you were just gonna watch. Yay, so exciting. 

You would’ve played golf with the guys had Mallory and Samantha not opened their opinionated mouths and made the decision for you. 

At this point Mallory and Samantha were now blabbering about some new type of leather purse and you really wished Ransom’s club would have hit your head at that moment. Anything to relieve you from having to hear their pathetic whining. The two women didn’t care to include you. Surprise, Surprise.  Apparently, you weren’t good enough to be in their aristocratic circle.  

What the hell was this, high school? 

“So how are you doing, (y/n)?”

It was odd how Samantha was actually trying to engage in a conversation with you. You just hoped that maybe this was her olive branch. These were Ransom’s friends' significant others and you were gonna try your damndest to impress them, not really wanting to stir up any drama if it weren’t necessary. 

“I’m doing pretty well, thanks for asking. How about you two?” 

Now both women were fully turned to you, their attention no longer on the men, more so Ransom. 

“Dylan and I are gonna take a trip to Europe, not exactly what I wanted, but good enough I guess.” Samantha rolled her eyes and heartily laughed along with Mallory.

Her simple statement made your eyes almost bug out of your head. It was like an expensive trip to Europe to her was just nothing more than a drive across the state line. You swallowed harshly in an attempt to figuratively stomach Samantha’s words. Ransom regularly offered those luxurious things to you, but as always, you turned them down, claiming he was just enough. It was very true, though. You didn’t have high standards which took Ransom some time to get used to. Most women he was ever with, wanted things, extortionate commodities. 

You didn’t want to ruin your only chance at a somewhat blossoming friendship, so you trepidatiously giggled along with them. 

“Oh honey, did you gain weight? I know a great personal trainer, really cute too, maybe not as cute as Ransom though.” Mallory’s perfectly manicured hand motioned towards your growing stomach.

You just stared in utter shock at what she just said. To most people that would be offensive but then you remembered the crowd you were with. Judgemental. 

“Umm, no-well, uh, I’m expecting.”

Sheepishly, you looked down at your feet, now noticing the difference between your choice of shoes and theirs. 

Samantha was wearing those white oasis Hermes sandals she had mentioned earlier, while Mallory was sporting some gaudy rockstud Valentino stilettos. Yeah, they definitely did not come here to golf. 

“That’s why Ransom kept someone like you around!” 

And that was definitely not the answer you were anticipating. If anything, you figured they’d be gushing over your pregnancy like any normal person would. 

“Oh Sam!” You saw Mallory nudge Samantha who looked at her in shock, immediately stopping her obnoxious laughter. 

A breath of relief left your mouth as you looked to smile at Mallory in gratitude. 

“I should’ve known it would take a fake pregnancy to get him!” 

“Yeah, he can’t have a bastard child running around, now can he? He would never get laid again!”

Your smile collapsed.

Samantha and Mallory grabbed each other’s hand, careful of their bubble-bath groomed nails, yet laughing so hard that they had to support each other. 

The three men looked over in the direction of the women’s giggles and smiled, returning back to their game, completely unaware of the real situation.

Of course they didn’t see you, because your back was to them. If they had, your impression of a deer in headlights would have most certainly piqued their attention.

Your jaw dropped and you couldn’t even comprehend what you just heard. 

Holy hell, they were just egging it on, weren’t they?

It was then that you realized Mallory wasn’t trying to stand up for you just a minute ago. 

So apparently the two women weren’t trying to become your friends at all. You were just their little toy to ridicule. 

“Aww hon, don’t get upset! We are just joking around.” 

Samantha gripped your shoulder tightly and you gave a tight lipped smile, in an attempt to show that you weren’t hurt by their idiotic antics. 

As Mallory and Samantha turned to continue to stare at the men, you saw them roll their eyes, for the nth time. 

“Joking, my ass.”

You just stared daggers into their backs, slightly wishing the daggers were real. How dare they insult you by saying you were “faking” it? They could joke with you, but definitely not your baby. 

The motherly instincts were already kicking in apparently. 

“Hey girls, wanna try?” 

Dylan waved his driver club in the air trying to get your attention. You were in such a trance, anything anyone said was just tuned out, that was till two arms wrapped around your waist. 

The simple action made you jump out of your own skin, ready to strike whoever was behind you. 

“Jumpy, much babe?”  

When you turned to be met with Ransom’s grin, a wave of relief swept over your anxious body. 

“Huh, yeah. Sorry I kinda zoned out.” 

“I definitelyyyy couldn’t tell.”

Crossing your fingers, you had hoped that Ransom wouldn’t question your edgy tone that came out with the sentence. 

Luckily, he didn’t notice and instead unwillingly dragged you over the teeing ground where the rest of the group was standing nearby. 

“So, who wants to go first?” 

Bentley spun on his heel to face the caddy and pulled out a gap wedge, handing it to Samantha who giddily volunteered herself first.

“I’m not really sure what position, I should be in.” 

Samantha held the club, elbows bent, and performed a lazy test swing, striking the grass. 

“Ransom, could you help me? After all, you are the one winning.” 

Her flirtatious wink made you wanna vomit. You practically held back the gag, not wanting to cause another scene. Ransom’s water bottle was in the cart. Deciding you couldn’t watch anymore you walked to go get the water that seemed life saving at the moment. 

“Ok, so first off you are gonna want to spread your legs a little.” 

Samantha moved her hips suggestively as she got into the proper stance.

“Is this the correct position?

Ransom nodded, not catching her drift at all. The way she said “position” was absolutely flagrant. 

As you turned from the cart and back to the group, you saw Samantha pushing her hips into Ransom, her Prada dress, lacy, white, and most of all short, slid up just a hunch. 

“Oh, good god I’m gonna be sick.” 

Briskly, you semi-jogged towards the country club, not wanting to catch anyone’s attention.

No one had noticed your disappearance as expected and just continued on with the game.

Of course, you came back just in time for Mallory’s turn, who was also getting coached by your fiance. 

“Don’t get mad, don’t get mad.”

The navy skort you were wearing, had to take the hit as you clenched your fists tightly, balling up the smooth fabric. 

Mallory swung the golf club clumsily, her arms way out of whack. You just grimaced, these women were supposed to know how to golf for goodness sake. After all, golfing was a sport for the rich, at least in Mallory’s own words. 

“Oh Ransom. I think I might need your help. How do I swing again?” 

Ransom politely nodded and strode away from his previous conversation. He situated himself behind Mallory, her back resting against his chest, his arms encasing around her sides. The golf club was positioned in between Mallory’s long legs and the two of them slightly bent at the hips, Ransom’s hands over hers as they slowly swung the golf club a few times. 

It finally came time for Mallory to actually swing. She insisted that Ransom help her, and of course he did. As they swung their arms over their shoulders, Mallory twisted her head and kissed Ransom’s cheek. The ball teed off and Mallory thanked Ransom once more.

“Thanks for all your help, Ranny.” 

Mallory then leaned in to hug Ransom tightly, smirking when she saw your belligerent attitude.  

You swore to yourself that you were living a movie because my god, was this so fake. No one in their right mind would ever have the guts to accomplish anything that had happened so far today. Quite the lucky streak you have, if I might say so myself.

“You wanna go, Momma?” A teasing offer came from Bentley, one you wouldn’t pass up. 

Confidently, you smirked and walked over to grab a pitching wedge from Ransom’s golf caddy. 

You were really ready to knock these women off of their damn high horses, it was time they joined you all in the corral. 

“Gladly.” 

The straight up sarcasm that dripped from your sneer thoroughly confused Ransom.

Straightening his posture, he quickly walked over to help you tee off too. 

Normally, you wouldn’t have minded Ransom’s help, but at this moment you were fuming, striking the ball on the tee with great vehemence. 

Shamelessly flirting with Ransom, even when they knew you were right there. The deliberate actions of your so called friends really was the last straw. You could normally handle the level of pettiness Ransom’s friends propounded, but you couldn’t take it anymore. It all flowed through your blood and into your swing. 

Ransom’s eyes widened when he saw how you hit with a perfect form, swing straight and all. Your ball even landed on the green, closer to the end, unlike the two women who landed on the rough, even with his help.

“Well looks like Ransom got a good start, now.” Dylan shook his head in disbelief as Ransom winked at you, a token of his appreciation. Unfortunately, you were only seeing red and completely missed his action of affection. 

“That’s impossible!” Samantha had a look of repugnance on her face. Visibly upset that she wasn’t beating you in this game of cat and mouse, insult edition. 

Mallory then discreetly flipped you off, the guys too busy packing up in order to move further down the course.

“I’m over this shit.”  You walked away from the teeing ground and towards the swarm of people. 

“You ready to move on ladies?” Bentley pointed towards the golf carts that were pretty much all packed up, except for the club in your hand. 

“Sure!” Mallory’s overly peppy and fake voice was the last straw.

The two women started to walk away with the men, swaying their hips, every step taken with aplomb.  

“No, you know what, Sam, Mal, who gives two shits about a Versace runway model standing three inches off center, because I sure as hell don’t.” 

Bentley, Dylan and Ransom stood gaping with confusion at your sudden outburst. From their point of view, nothing extreme had gone down between you and the girls all day long. 

You turned from the outraged women, disregarding their insults thrown your way and meeting the faces of the befuddled men. 

“Sorry boys.” 

“Oh and one more thing, girls. If you say one more shitty thing, so help me, I am gonna take Samantha’s Hermes heels and shove them so far up both your asses, you’ll be able to cough them up.”

You ever so gracefully returned Mallory’s kind gesture and flipped her and Samantha off. 

In typical Ransom fashion, you turned away once more, basking in their shocked looks and ignoring their pitiful attempts at being the victims.  

With that you handed Ransom the golf club which he gripped angrily, as you stormed off towards the women’s locker room. You could feel him practically burning holes into your back.

 It was almost impossible to put in the combination to the lock for your eyes were welling up with tears. What made the whole thing worse was that Ransom didn’t even say a word, and he was angry at you?!

With a swipe of your hand, you wiped away the tears before grabbing your purse. You looked at Coach logo laughing when you thought of the Celine and Louis Vuitton purses Samantha and Mallory had. 

When you had gotten to the country club, Ransom handed you the keys to the Beamer to put in your purse. His car was the only other thing he loved more than himself, you, and the baby. In reality, it was his first child. 

Seeing the Beamer in the parking lot was like light at the end of the tunnel for you. Into the driver seat you plopped and the keys turned to the ignition. At the moment you could care less where you ended up, you just wanted to run for the hills and get far from here. 

Sure, you were embarrassed, but you were more angry than anything else. 

As you drove past the golf course you didn’t miss Ransom’s appalled look when he saw the Beamer leaving without him in it. 

Back at the course, everyone stood around giving each other confused looks. 

Dylan bravely broke the silence first. 

“What just happened, man?”

Ransom just huffed and shook his head. 

“No clue. Hormones probably.” 

Samantha full on giggled while Mallory took the next step and grabbed Ransom’s bicep as she laughed. 

“Thanks for making me laugh Ran, I really needed it after what just happened.” 

Mallory looked up into Ransom’s deep blue eyes with her sparkling green ones and batted her long eyelashes at him seductively. 

The clueless men took no mind in what was unfolding in front of them. 

“Oh that’s right. Congrats dude!” Bentley supportively patted Ransom’s shoulder, before returning back to his own caddy at the cart. 

Another shaky breath left Ransom’s mouth. 

“Yeah, thanks.” 

As Ransom headed back to the golf cart, he couldn’t shake the weird feeling inside. 

What was it, you ask?

Concern. 

He was concerned about (y/n). 

A cloud of vexation and offense floated around in the car with you, that when you arrived at Harlan’s estate you had not even registered it quite yet. 

The keys of the beamer were clenched tightly in your hand as you knocked, waiting patiently for Marta or Harlan himself to answer. 

As the door swung open, it revealed a surprised and smiling Marta.

“Oh hi (y/n)!” 

It was then that the weight of the prior events came crashing down on you and sobs were the only thing you could manage.

Marta quickly ushered you inside and enveloped you in a hug. 

For the few minutes that passed, you had finally calmed down. Taking a deep breath you explained everything to Marta while she led you to the guest room you and Ransom normally stayed in. 

“I’m so sorry for your terrible day, love. Why don’t you get cleaned up and you, Harlan and I can have some dinner?”

At the offer, you returned a small smile, but a genuine one nonetheless. 

A hot shower would hopefully help clear your mind a bit. You padded over to the bathroom, starting the water and then returning to rummage through the wooden dresser. Thankfully, Ransom had left his maroon sweater and your leggings. Your first win of the day after a colossal shitstorm, maybe things were starting to look up.

The last thing on your mind at the moment was Ransom, who was supposed to be here with you. Just the mere thought of him, irked you.

When you returned from the long and much needed shower, you checked your phone.

Ten missed calls from Ransom Drysdale

Five text messages from Ransom Drysdale.

You just scoffed, turning off your phone. He definitely didn’t deserve an answer from you and you most certainly didn’t want to hear his lame-ass excuse. Was he even calling to apologize or was he calling to pester you? 

Whatever.

The cell phone just rested on the bed, while you scurried downstairs to the smell of lasagna, tending to yourself with Ransom in the very back of your mind.  

It had been about an hour since you left and Ransom couldn’t get in touch with you. Bentley and Dyaln had just left the table to get some more drinks at the bar, something Ransom clearly needed. 

He called your phone once more, but to no avail, it went straight to voicemail.

Your sweet voice rang through his phone, oh how he wished you were here.

“This is (Y/n) Drysdale, I’m not here at the moment, please leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. Have a great day!”

Ransom felt a sense of pride that emerged when you used his last name as your own. Never in a thousand years had he assumed he’d ever be married, until you came along. You charmed him with your humbleness and patience for his antics. So many things about you were good for that man. Long gone were the days of shunning off a committed relationship with his pinky ring that now rested upon your index. A small diamond engagement ring, another symbol of Ransom’s love, made home on your ring finger too. You, a beautiful vision in white, walking down the aisle, and he can already imagine it. 

An annoyingly squeaky voice broke him from his enchanting daydream of you as his wife. 

“Oh Ranny, just give up.”

Long fingers wrapped around the glass flute, bringing it up to the red lips of the vanilla-blonde woman. 

“Excuse me?” 

Mallory moved her drink away from her lips, resting her hand on Ransom’s right forearm that laid on the table.

“Well it’s no use to get in touch with Betty and the bastard. She isn’t gonna answer, clearly, but I will.”

Now he could see why you were upset. 

They must’ve said something to you. What was really surprising though is that you’d never take shit from anyone. Why would you cower down now?

He mentally scolded himself, that was a question to ask you later. First order of business was to give these two lovely ladies a taste of their own bitter medicine. Revenge was practically the man’s middle name, unfortunately. 

Ransom couldn’t lose the only thing in life that mattered to him. You brought him light in the darkest of his days. Family get-togethers always put him in a terrible mood, but when you were linked into his arm with a bright smile, things seemed a little bit more bearable. 

Who cared about the consequences at this point, Ransom madly grabbed the bellini and spilled it across Mallory’s black Dior button-down dress.

“Don’t ever talk about my wife and child like that.” 

The two women cried in disgust, popping up from their seats, prompting Samantha to drag Mallory to the ladies’ room.

Bentley and Dylan came back to the table, cackling, three Malibu sunset cocktails in hand. 

Ransom was practically seething at this point, his jaw clenched as tightly gripping the glass Dylan was handing him.

“Woah man, what’s up with you?”

“Your petty ass girlfriends, that’s what.”

Many drinks later, Ransom had finally finished his story, Bentley and Dylan not believing anything the brunette spoke about.

“You’re bullshitting us, Drysdale. Maybe we should take your drinking privileges.” 

Ransom’s signature smirk curled onto his face as he found his evidence. 

“Look over a few tables, fellas.” 

There was Samantha, her tongue down some guy's throat, Mallory wearing the other man’s large polo. 

“Shit, man!” 

Dylan dropped his glass onto the table in complete shock. He had really just assumed that Ransom was drunkenly hallucinating.

“I’m not here to listen to both of your problems, now help me go win my wife back.” 

Bentley and Dylan weren’t even phased by Ransom’s forwardness, for they were both too caught up in their own drunken sorrow. 

“Why? Can’t you see I have plans tonight with some rum?” Bentley motioned to the bar before chugging his own drink down.

“She-” Ransom hung his head in shame. “She-took-my-beamer.” In one quick breath the man made his embarrassing confession.

“Fine, it’s only because I like your wife. She’s good for you ya know.”

“Yeah, yeah, just get your drunk asses out of here.” All three men doubled over in cachinnation due to Ransom’s quip.

Like expected, Bentley and Dylan continued to tease Ransom before going off to get some water in hopes of sobering up, coming back with two women instead. 

A small snicker left Ransom’s mouth. He could remember the days when that was him, but now was much happier and satisfied to always come home with you. 

You were ecstatic to be greeted with Harlan’s large and welcoming smile. The man was basically your grandfather. 

“Well there’s my favorite granddaughter and soon to be great-grandchild!”

“Hiya Harlan!” 

Your crappy day suddenly brightened at the appearance of your favorite Thrombey. 

“Something’s wrong isn’t it?” 

Harlan rested his hands in yours offering a reassuring smile. You chose not to deny the correct accusation from the man, instead going to sit down with him and Marta, once again explaining the story. 

“I just wish Ransom wasn’t mad at me.” 

A dejected sigh fell from your lips as you looked down at your growing stomach.

“My dear, if you tell him what you just told me, I am positive he would understand.”

“But I feel terrible for not being able to handle those girls. I mean he was having such a great time with his friends-.”

Harlan abruptly stopped you from spiraling into a depressive cloud. 

“No buts, (y/n). Ransom’s friends are a crazy crowd of people, well, then again you have dealt with the rest of our family. Besides, Ransom’s friends deserved to be shown a bit of what you are made of. They need to understand that it’s not about the money or title, but the character within the person.”

You chuckled at Harlan’s exquisite speech. 

“Wow, so this is why you are a best selling author?”

“I guess so, just remember (y/n), stay humble and who you are. Don’t change for Ransom or his friends because in the end that boy really needed a girl like you.”  

A beautiful smile graced your lips at his encouraging words. Harlan always gave advice with much equanimity. 

You finished the sapid and delectable lasagna with Harlan and Marta, often stopping to talk about the baby, who was to make an entrance in a few months.

After dinner was finished, you helped Fran clean up the dishes which she greatly appreciated. It was surprising to anyone that someone with your kind and caring personality would end up with a bonehead like Ransom. If only they all knew, Ransom was rarely ever an ass to you, occasions like these didn’t occur frequently. 

By time you were done cleaning, Harlan had retired for the night, but not before playing a round of Go with Marta, who happily obliged and Fran gave you some clean sheets and then headed home herself. You were all alone now, only hoping when you’d see Ransom again. The two of you were both stubborn knuckleheads, who never wanted to surrender to the other. 

Step after step, the wooden staircase creaked loudly as you slowly climbed to the second floor. Hand on the knob, you leaned against the bedroom door, tiredly pushing it open. A glance at your cell phone told you it was only a little after nine o’clock. It was an emotionally tolling day and you only wanted to curl up with your fiance, oh who are you kidding, your husband. Unfortunately, the closest thing you had to him at the moment was his maroon sweater, casing your body. All of this made the silk bed sheets even more comfortable, entrapping your exhausted body and lulling you to sleep. 

Shooting up from your slumber, you made sure your phone was not on silent, just in case Ransom called again. Content, a void of darkness littered your sight, and you were out like a light. 

RING! 

The loud ringing emitting from your phone startled you, making your head shoot up from the pillows. 

Bentley Livingstone

The bright light from the screen awoke you fully. Squinting to look at the time, you scoffed.

10:14 pm

“What the hell, Bentley.” Your voice raspy from sleep, it was evident that he had woken you.

“Sorry Momma Bear, but can you let us in?”

“Us? And if you are at the house, I’m not there, Benny boy.” 

The last thing you wanted now was to be talking to him, you practically ripped apart his girlfriend, who he was actually committed too for once. You felt awful for ruining Ransom’s day with his friends, but quickly reminded yourself that those women were even worse to you. The men probably thought you were a total bitch, after their girlfriends had played the victims. 

“Cut out the sarcasm, will ya? I’m not mad at you, and actually I’m here at Harlan’s.” 

You felt so relieved that you could almost cry, damn hormones. 

Bentley must’ve known something had happened which meant Dylan knew and hopefully Ransom too. 

“Fine.”

You went to the bathroom to hurriedly tame your messy hair and brush your teeth, ridding the final taste of lasagna away. 

Harlan was asleep and Marta had left by this time, so as you opened the front door, you made sure to make it as quiet as possible. 

“Hi (y/n).” Bentley was the first to walk in, giving you a hug which shocked you before reciprocating the action. Dylan did the same and you were bemused at the men’s kindness. 

“So… what’s up.” Nervously, you crossed your arms over your chest, resting them on your small, yet protruding bump, all while awaiting an answer.

“We’d like to apologize on behalf of Samantha and Mallory.” Dylan stepped forward, placing his hand comfortingly on your shoulder. 

“I’m so sorry guys. I didn’t mean for all this to happen.”

“Hey don’t be sorry! I’m glad I found out Sam was in it for your hottie.” 

“Yeah. I’ve dated plenty of women but not anyone that cold.”

“Thanks, guys.” You looked up to be greeted with their bright smiles. It was nice to be so trusted. 

“Dude, those babes said they were free tonight.” Dylan held out his phone to text said woman, Bentley doing the same. 

Without second thought, you quickly put your hand between the two men, still having a very animated conversation. 

“As much as I’d love to hear you guys babble over some girls, do either of you know where Ransom is?” 

“He’s right here.” 

A very familiar voice sounded from behind you. 

There he was. Your hormones were through the roof and you couldn’t stop the happy tears that fell. 

You ran to your fiance, throwing your arms around his neck, while his one free hand wrapped around your waist. Ransom placed a sweet kiss on your neck, laying his head there for a while, relishing in your love. How could he be so deserving of someone with such patience? 

Too caught up in the moment, you didn’t even notice Dylan and Bentley sneaking out the front door. 

Ransom held out a bountiful bouquet of exquisite light pink roses. With his free hand, he took both of yours, placing a few kisses to your knuckles. 

Turning your hands over, Ransom kissed your wrists and then handed you the bouquet. You couldn’t help but giggle at all his affection.

“Pink roses, for you and our baby girl. I owe you both an apology.” Like a scolded puppy, he held his head in shame.  

“I owe you an apology too-”

Your fiance’s index finger came up to shush you.

“No you don’t, I do.” 

Ransom took your left hand, your ringed fingers intertwined with his now bare ones and led you up to the bedroom.

You went to go flump on the bed, observing as Ransom shut the door, and wordlessly sat next to you.  

“I’m sorry that I, of all people, upset you. I should have been there for you, but I wasn’t.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, full of remorse. Truth be told, you had never seen Ransom like this. Taking your left hand, you lifted his chin gently, the cold metal of the rings somewhat startling, making Ransom turn his solemn face to look at you.

“How did you know?” Gazing into his gorgeous and endless eyes, you saw his sorrow, a large pang to your heart. 

“Well, both girls tried to make a move on me. Mallory called our little lemondrop,” Ransom took a deep breath, saying the next word like it was gonna summon the devil himself,  “a bastard.”

You were so desensitized at this point, you just accepted the vile words. There was no use in letting their locutions affect you, because if they did, you’d be letting them win. 

“Yeah, they both kinda said that to my face too.”  In hopes of lifting the mood, you let out a dry chuckle to let Ransom know that you were somewhat okay. Especially, that he was here, next to you. 

“You girls were laughing and everything, I truly thought you were having a good time. I am so sorry, Sweetheart.” 

Ransom was so upset, he buried his face into your chest, while you slowly and soothingly rubbed his back. Instead of telling him about your other banters with the women, you just kept your mouth shut. The poor thing was already so unsettled, you didn’t want to make matters worse for him.

It seemed like an eternity that Ransom was in your loving hold. His sobs were quieted and he examined your look of content. First, he softly pecked the corner of your lips then placed his warm hands on the small bump of your baby. 

“Hi little miss, I owe you an apology too. Today I was not a great father at all. You and your mom will always mean the world to me. I can’t wait to meet you, honey.” 

Ransom ended his heartfelt confession with a slow kiss to the unborn baby, that even you could feel through the sweater, making your heart flutter. For many months, Ransom worried about being a terrible father. Well, if what he just said didn’t prove that he was gonna be a great father, then you don't know what would. 

Your hands flew up to your fiance’s face, once again holding him close, so close that your noses bumped. Both of your eyes were closed in bliss, that was until Ransom quietly spoke up. 

“The beamer’s fine right?”

Believe it or not, but sometimes Ransom could be a comedian around those he cared about. A few giggles left your mouth as you pulled away from the man who was also laughing himself. 

“I-I’m...serious, babe!” It took a few tries for Ransom to get the sentence out without cackling. For years it had been a running joke that Mr. Drysdale loved his car more than himself which was quite the revelation, if you ever heard one. 

Getting up from the bed, you leaned down to kiss between Ransom’s eyebrows that were knitted with concern. 

“Yes, your other child is fine.” 

“So now that the air is clear, are you hungry?” 

Don’t judge, just because you may have eaten lasagna just a while ago, didn’t mean you’d pass the golden opportunity for more food. You eagerly nodded your head before sitting on Ransom’s knee. His arms were wrapped around you in a protective manner, while his hands held the phone with the menu on screen. 

“Ran, what Chinese place is gonna be open this late?”

“Trust me, I know this place.” 

Half an hour later, a man showed up on the doorstep holding a plastic bag hopefully filled with your late night smorgasbord. To your surprise, the bag was actually filled with all its content which needless to say didn’t last long. Between your endless stomach and Ransom’s growing hangover, the greasy meal trays were soon empty. You and Ransom had taken the food up to the bedroom, devouring it all, while laying on the bed enjoying the time together. 

Even when things were rough, you and Ransom always found a way to get through. 

[muwur]

um!! i want to request a comfort hc/drabble(?) anything !! just 👉👈 can i get hinata n/or tsuki comforting and standing up for their s/o (or friend!) who is non-binary ??

standing up for a non-binary s/o

♡ scenarios ♡ for hinata and tsukishima

gn reader

turned out longer than i intended tHIS IS MY PROBLEM N Y I UPDATE SO SLOW FORGIVE ME FOEFHEFOEFRG but anyway,,,, 2.3k words

a/n: i use primarily they/them as reader’s preferred pronouns in these scenarios, but i wanted to acknowledge that ik some non-binary ppl use other pronouns,  they/he, they/she, or even all pronouns, etc :) reminder to pls be respectful to what people want and use their preferred pronouns!  and pls lmk if i ever offend you bc i don’t want to upset anyone <3

hinata

Just a week ago, you had finally mustered the courage to come out as non-binary to your boyfriend, Hinata. You recalled the rising panic you felt when you were met with silence and the slight widening of his chocolate eyes. However, his initial surprise was quickly replaced with a softness gracing his features. When he gently stroked your cheek and reassured you that nothing would change how he feels about you, you felt your heart melt with relief. You had nothing worry about, after all.

Unfortunately, not everyone could be as accepting as Hinata.

Picking at an array of noodles with a fork, you fixed your sights on the dinner plate before you, trying to ignore a certain gaze threatening to sear your skin. Next to you, Hinata grimaced. Munching on his stir fry and trying to be respectful in front of your family were the only things keeping him from wiping that leer off your aunt’s face. She was blatant in expressing her disapproval, the wrinkles in her face contorting with disgust whenever she so much as looked your way.

After your heart-to-heart with Hinata the other week, you were inspired to come out to your family as well. The news circulated, and though you weren’t expecting everyone to exactly be on board, the reality of disapproval hurt more than you imagined. It was great timing that today happened to be your cousin’s birthday, and you were forced to have dinner with one of your least favorite family members. Luckily, you were allowed to invite Hinata. You couldn’t fathom how your soon-to-be 5-year-old cousin was so kind and polite despite being reared by such a tyrannous mother.  Your earliest memory of your aunt was when she snatched your favorite toy from your toddler hands. You cried as she yelled at both you and your parents for letting you play with such a “gender-inappropriate” toy.

You knew she wouldn’t let you escape tonight without any offhand comments or dirty looks.

A throat cleared. You tensed in your seat. “Y/n? Dear, could you pass me the salt?”

You dared a glance up at the familiar voice. Your eyes locked with your aunt’s menacing ones briefly before you quietly obliged to her request.

“Thank you,” she said dully, taking the shaker. Sprinkling her meal, she continued to speak with nonchalance. “So, I heard you go by ‘they’ now? What’s wrong with he/she, hm? I mean, that is what you are, and that’s the only thing you should go by.”

Silence. Your parents looked at one another in discomfort, unsure how to respond. Your cousin looked back and forth between you and and your aunt curiously, unaware what was happening. A few more seconds passed by. With a shaky breath, you could only stutter out a timid “I-I--” before your mother cautiously piped up. “Aunt *name*, please, it’s your child’s birthday, let’s save this conversation for another ti--”

A scoff interrupted her. “Easy for you to say. You’ve always been so soft on y/n. Neither of you,” she glared accusingly at your parents, “raised her/him right. Now, look what’s happened. She/he’s gone delusional. How could any of you be okay with this and carry on like normal?”

You could feel yourself holding back tears. You wanted to say something against her, to show her you weren’t afraid of her and didn’t care what she thought. To prove that she didn’t know anything about you. That she had no right to be talking to you like this.

Yet you remained frozen in your seat, unable to speak. Inside, your mind went blank, leaving you defenseless against her hateful tirade.

“If she/he were my daughter/son, I’d set things straight immediately. No more outside communication. Who knows what nonsense they’ve been feeding your child? She/he needs to see a specialist to undo whatever brainwashing has occurred and--”

SCREECH.

Hinata stood in front of his seat, which had slid noisily across the floor when he pushed it back. He was silent, his eyes pointed downward and his two palms pressed on the table. All eyes looked at him with shock, if not a tinge of curiosity.

“Stop saying those things as if you knew one thing about y/n and what they’ve had to go through,” he said in a low voice, teeth clenched.

A challenging arch of the brow replaced your aunt’s initial surprise. “Oh, please. What do you know? You’re just a naive kid like y/n. You don’t understand. You know nothing about the real world and you kids go about life as if you can just do anything. You’re selfish.”

“You’re being selfish for refusing to understand a point of view that you’re not used to. How could you live with yourself knowing that you’re making someone you should care about miserable for the rest of their lives? You have no right to speak as though you know y/n. All you care about is your opinion, regardless of whether or not it’s right, and how you look to other people. What’s wrong with letting y/n make their own decisions? Why invalidate them before even giving them the chance to explain and help you understand? You should think about how you’re acting before trying to teach someone else how they should live.”

The air cracked with silent tension. It was too much. Quickly, you got up and dashed to the front door, unlocking it and stepping outside to breathe in the cool evening air. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you stumbled off the front porch, increasing the distance between yourself and that dinner table.

Your body jolted with shock when you heard a familiar voice out and felt a pair of arms wrap from behind your frame. Hinata was breathing heavily, his rushed voice laced with worry. “I’m sorry for making a scene in front of your family, y/n, but I couldn’t just sit around and let her say whatever she wanted. You don’t deserve that treatment. I don’t regret anything I told her. And if she’s still bothering you, or anyone else for that matter, you bet I’m gonna be there to stick up for you, no matter what.”

Despite the tears that pricked at your eyes, a small smile formed on your lips. Ditching your family dinner, you spent the rest of the evening together seated in a booth at a nearby fast food restaurant, munching on goodies and sharing lighthearted jokes. That night, you were reminded that it didn’t matter what someone like your aunt thought. Those who did matter were the ones who accepted and cared for you--the real you. In the midst of darkness, you found yourself a radiant being who never failed to brighten your day. You didn’t know what you did to deserve Hinata, but you knew he would be by your side through it all. For that, you were grateful.

tsukishima

After a rough week of nonstop work, food delivery, and 1AM espressos, you were relieved Saturday had finally come. Tsukishima, who had come by your home a few times that week to check up on you(r sanity) and drop off some surprise dinners, nagged you to take better care of yourself and offered to treat you to lunch that weekend (after you promised to get a lot of rest when you were finished). When you beat your deadlines early Friday evening, you nearly cried tears of joy and immediately passed out on your bed to catch up on lost sleep.

Saturday reminded you of the beauty of the outside world, much needed after your long week of confinement. Both sun and clouds gathered in the pale blue sky overhead. Warm sunshine freckled your skin while a gentle breeze cooled your temple. Hand in hand, you walked down the block with Tsukishima towards the farmer’s market. Already you could hear the nearby murmurs of a crowd and smell the savory aroma of freshly cooked food. Your stomach grumbled with enthusiasm as you thought about all the delicious choices waiting to be ordered.

Numerous vendors lined up down the street. Smoke arose from hot grills, carrying the scent of various spices through the air. Workers called out to passing customers, offering them samples of their homemade nut butters or showing off their natural, handmade soaps. With a fascinated glint in your eye, you observed each stand you passed by. From Hawaiian poke, grilled paninis, and tacos, to Thai stir fry, barbecue, and shawarma, the options seemed endless. As much as you loved the variety, it made making a decision even more difficult.

“Tsukkiiii,” you said pleadingly, “I don’t know what I want.”

He sighed. “Well, what’s your appetite in the mood for?”

“No clue, that’s why I’m asking.”

When he shot you an annoyed look, you held your hands up. “Hey, I’ve been using my brain way too much this week. I’m tired of thinking. I’m pretty down for anything, to be honest.”

With a shrug, he suggested trying the ramen from a stand several feet away from you both. You happily agreed and dragged the both of you to stand in line. Looking down at your shirt, you pulled on it slightly and adjusted the pin attached close to your collar. It depicted a cartoon cat with a text bubble that said “they/them” to indicate your preferred pronouns (though, in the note above, ik you may have a different combination of preferred pronouns. feel free to just sub in whatever those are into the pin ^-^ ). You recalled how you heart rushed with excitement when you found it in your mailbox that morning.

“You know, you didn’t have to get this for me,” you told your blonde companion as you admired your gift. Hands in his pockets, he gave you another shrug. “I just thought it suited you. Plus, strangers won’t misgender you, anymore.”

“That’s really thoughtful of you, Kei... Thank you, again, really.”

His lips formed into a thin line and he looked off to the side. He muttered a low, “Don’t mention it.” before stepping forward to follow the shortening line. A huff of amusement escaped you in response. You were also taking a step forward when you felt a shove on your left side. Tsukishima caught you mid-stumble, helping you regain your balance and stand upright again. Narrowing his eyes, he looked over at the man who bumped into you. The stranger caught himself from stumbling as well, then scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“Ah, I’m sorry about that young man/woman! I wasn’t looking clearly,” he apologized.

You shook your head in response, offering him a smile. “No worries. I’m glad we’re both okay.”

He was about to laugh in agreement when he noticed the pin attached to your top. His smile vanished and he looked at you quizzically. “Say, what’s that pin you got there?”

“Oh,” you pointed at it. “This? These are my gender pronouns. I go by ‘them/them,’” you announced proudly.

Raising an eyebrow, he asked, “What does that even mean? ‘They/them’ is plural, so doesn’t it make more sense to just go by he/she?” He paused for a few seconds of thought. Then, it clicked. “Is this that ‘gender identity’ bullshit I’ve been hearing about lately?”

Your enthusiasm quickly dissipated. ‘Oh gosh, please don’t tell me that this person’s--’

“Now missy/boy, I don’t know what’s gotten into all your heads, thinking you can just pick and choose whatever or whoever you want to be. What you were born with is who you are. Why can’t people accept that and have to complicate things? It’s biology. I swear, people are just doing this for attention or a trend or whatever--”

“Ahem,” Tsukishima cleared his throat, interrupting the man’s rant. He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and drew you close against himself. “Perhaps the topic is too complex for your tiny mind to comprehend,” he challenged, his voice dripping with collected hostility. “You should stop going on about things you don’t understand; it makes you look even more ignorant. Now, please, stop bothering my partner before you piss me off more.”

The stranger glared up at Tsukishima, then back at you. Deciding it wasn’t worth a fight, the man scoffed and shoved past your boyfriend;s shoulder, then disappeared into the crowd. Behind you, a kid’s wide eyes looked at Tsukishima with awe. “Wow, that was really cool! You really showed him!”

“Tch, it was nothing,” he responded bashfully. “Can’t let assholes get away with whatever they want.”

15 minutes later and you were both settled in a shady area on a grassy field with ramen bowls in your lap. Your eyes were glued to the ground. Tsukishima waved a hand in front of your face with concern.

“Earth to y/n? You good? You’ve been quiet since we encountered that guy earlier.”

You risked looking up into his eyes, unable to control the stream of tears running down your eyes. Surprised, the blonde placed his hands on the sides of your face and started to wipe your tears off with his thumbs. “I-I’m just, r-really grateful that you,” you choked between sobs, “were here with m-me, today. I d-don’t know what I would’ve done if I was alone.”

You let him wrap his arms around you as you buried your face in his shoulder. He nestled his cheek onto the top of your head and ran a gentle hand up and down your spine. “It’s okay,” he murmured softly. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, anymore. I promise.”

Several minutes later, you pulled away, sniffling and rubbing the remaining tears from your eyes with your forearm. He gave your head a small pat.

gRhhrrhGRH.

“Someone sounds hungry.” You rolled your eyes and swatted his hand off your head.

2 minutes into eating, and you asked (suggestively), “Can we eat from the same bowl and see if we end up connecting noodles?”

“N-No, that’s dumb.” 

“Oh, c’monnnnn~ You know you want to, you’re blushing.”

“I’m not!”

a/n: sry about the weird stomach growl effect LMAO

if you coudlnt tell i was hungry writing this n i miss going out to eat foueherhggu

i hope u enjoyed <3 pls lmk if u would like any changes anon or smth different (liks regular hc’s, etc). have a lovely day n i hope you feel better <3 ill fite anyone who makes u feel bad >:(

[blackberry-gingham]

okay so this is probably an extremely weird idea... but high school ah, right? readers a hockey player, paul's a figure skater- i'm a big fan of the beatles and hockey and thought of this so 😅 anyways, love your writings ❤️

SKSKSKALSL LMAOOO this is not a weird ask!! I'm a hockey fan too actually 😂✌🏻 In fact, this use to be a hockey/art blog before I it converted lol. And also, Paul would totally be a figure skater like... I can just see it so clearly lmao.

Oh but before I begin, ik you didn't specify reader's gender here and you guys know I do gender neutral reader when I can, but I feel like smashing some hockey related gender norms, so I hope it's cool with you all if I do a badass, hockey playing, female reader for this one 😌

---

With a heave, you push open the big, double door to your school's practice ice, and a blast of crisp, winter scented air rushes over you. You are the only girl on your school's hockey team, and it feels like the odds are against you.

You're tough, a good shot, and fast, but you still feel like you have a lot to prove. The accuracy of that sentiment is highly debatable, but nonetheless, extra practice never hurts.

Today you've just brought your skates, stick, and a weighted vest for speed drills. It's long after school hours by now, but as a member of the team, you can swipe into the rink anytime you want. That being said, the last thing you were expecting was to find the ice occupied...

The sound of shredding ice snaps your attention to the rink, and there you see a lone boy on skates, tearing it up.

He looks about your age, and if he's in here then he must go to your school... So why don't you recognize him?

You set down your equipment and lace up your skates, pretending to be occupied while you stare.

His strides are long and measured, with a grace you haven't quite seen before. He's wearing a leotard in your school's colors, and the spandex only accents his long, delicate legs as he goes around and around, somewhere between gliding and flying as he goes through a routine of tricks and moves.

He jumps once through the air with impressive form and lands squarely in the center of the ice. You're already feeling quite impressed by the show he's given so far, and you rise to give some polite applause at this last move. But then, you're cut off as he draws up to his full height and launches himself into a spin, perfectly contained to one spot.

As his arms draw in, he goes faster and faster until he's nothing more then a rotating column. Slowly, he drops down to a one legged crouch, his lifted skate held out in front of him with both hands as he arches forward to reach. By now, you feel dizzy just looking at him, but when he springs up over a foot in the air, completing two more aerial spins before landing perfectly on a single skate...

Well, you’re blown away.

To celebrate, you congratulate him like any true hockey fan would. You pound on the glass as hard and as loud as you can, being sure to accompany it with whoops and cheers of admiration. However, the sound of all your ruckus must’ve taken him by surprise, as the figure skater whips around all too fast and slips into a nasty looking fall.

“Shit”, you mutter. Without a moment to lose, you rush down the ramp and onto the ice with your skates thankfully all ready to go. Showing your best hustle, you skate over just as the young man begins to stir. You come to a full stop, trying not to spray him in ice, and drop down to see if he’s alright.

He groans, and sits up slowly, rubbing at his hip, “I’m fine, thanks...”

The British accent takes you by surprise, but you put it aside for now, “Here, let me help you to the bench”. Without giving him much of a wait, you lift him up to his feet easily with fairly impressive strength and help him off the ice while he tires to hide a blush.

Once you’re both settled down, Paul finally takes a moment to get a good look at you. The first thing he notices is your skates. “So... You’re on the, uh hockey team?”

A jolt of excitement goes through you as you assume he is knowledgeable on the topic. Finally, a guy who gets you. You launch into a hyper jabber, telling him all sorts of secular, hockey related things like your name, your jersey number, your position, and the drills you’re here to practice.

Paul has no idea what you’re talking about. In fact, he hardly knows the name of the sport to be quite honest, considering it’s not at all popular back in England... But, you seem so excited, what with your sweet smile and the gleam in your eyes, he can’t bring himself to interrupt you.

“Anyway, sorry, I’m talking too much”, you laugh.

“No no, it’s alright! It’s nice to meet such a passionate person”, he smiles. “Oh, um I’m Paul by the way! I uh, just moved here with my family a few weeks ago”

Well you figured as much, but you’re excited to get to know him more. After all, he seems quite nice, and you admit, you are rather curious about him...

Paul tells you a bit about his background in Liverpool to start off, but he quickly cuts to his passion for figure skating and how he got started in that. He tells you all about the his competitions and medals and how he’s hoping to take his dreams to the pros here in the States.

You listen intently, clinging to every word. Of course you were curious at first, but who would’ve thought he’d be so amazing to boot? You had no idea you were practically talking to a superstar.

Paul humbly denies the title, but he can’t help but feel quite proud of himself under all your attention. To be honest, he was rather worried he’d have a hard time finding his place in an American school, making friends and all that... But imagine his surprise to be here, not even one week into his school career, being fawned over by the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. 

When the conversation hits a bit of a slump, Paul starts up a new topic, “So, what kind of moves have you got out there? I’d imagine there’s quite a bit of fancy footwork that goes into your game... Maybe you could teach me a few things, eh?”, he smiles encouragingly and give a little chuckle as he bumps your shoulder.

You laugh nervously, “I think it’d be quite the opposite if anything... I’m pretty fast, but that’s about all I have going for me in terms of skating”, you look away and kick as a small pile of snow in front of you.

“Aw, well that’s an easy fix! Tell you what, how about I’ll show you some moves, and you can show me a bit about hockey afterwards!”, his hazel eyes beam at you, and you must admit, that would be a rather sweet deal...

You agree, and next thing you know, you’re both off onto the rink. Paul teaches you a little bit about spins, just some basic moves for maneuvering around others, and as well as helping you fine tune your backwards skating. 

“Here, like this...”, he lets go of your hands and instead tries to approach this by holding you from behind. Paul takes a firm grip on your waist, his fingers long and delicate as they curl around you, “Now, just move your feet like I do...”

The rest of his instructions are drowned out by the pounding in your ears and you hope against hope that you can pass off the redness in your cheeks as the touch of the cold. But, without even realizing, Paul is leading you through a smooth back skate... And just as you do realize, he lets you go and the surprise throws you off balance.

You tread some ice and slip backwards. Paul catches you, but it doesn’t do much good as he ends up going down as well. You land right on top of him, the two of you left with the wind knocked out of you. Thankfully you come to your senses in a jiffy and you roll over to check on Paul, to find yourself mere inches away from his pretty face.

He blinks a few times and shakes his head out a little before focusing on you with a little pout, “Now that’s the second time you’ve knocked me off my feet today”. You’re about to apologize, when his sad little face cracks into a sly smirk, “I hope this doesn’t come to be a pattern...”, he winks at you.

You gasp and bat at his chest as you push yourself up, a severe blush and an incredulous laugh escaping you. Paul shoots up to sit, “Where are you going!”, he laughs.

“I think we’ve had enough practice for one day”, you turn around, trying but failing to suppress your laughter. 

“Well hold on, how about some ice cream or something at least!”

Paul chases after you like a lost puppy, begging you for a little more time together today. You shake your head, but make some plans with him anyway. After all, who knows? You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take...

[diva-1-online]

Ike x Reader (Nolan’s sister)

Ike x reader

It’s hard being the adopted sister of a world famous lawyer, especially when you don’t live up to those same standards. And more so when the adoptive father was so sure you’d succeed in the business too. Boy was he surprised.

She just didn’t have the same way with words her brother did. The favoritism was obvious. Instead of her being able to pursue her dreams she was stuck being dragged to parties and used as arm candy with men she didn’t enjoy being around. Tragic honestly.

So here she sat, staring out at the ocean in the night. She had to get away from her brother and his snarky words to her.

“(Y/n)?”

Oh. Him.

“You’re not calling me my nickname anymore?”

“Well, the last time I called you “Bunny” you yelled at me.” Ike shrugged while walking closer to her.

“I’ll do it again.” She groaned and lifted her head from your knees. “What are you out here for?”

“I could ask you the same thing. But if you’re curious, fishing. They’re more active now. What are you doing out here? Did Nolan kick you out?”

“No, I’m just” she let out a deep sigh and looked up at the stars, “just stargazing.”

“It’s a good thing I came, little bunny, someone could’ve hurt you out here if you aren’t careful.”

“I think you’re more dangerous.” She laughed and looked out to the ocean. He was right, the fish were more active. Ike smirked and rolled his eyes, ignoring the comment:

“If I had known you’d be here I would’ve brought another pole.”

“No need, I don’t like fishing.” As she said that, Ike gave her a strange look. “I mean, I haven’t done it but I just know.”

“How do you know if you’ve never done it?”

“Well-“

“Exactly. So here,” Ike baited the hook and grabbed (Y/n)’s hand, helping her up. He walked up behind her and placed it in her hands, helping her cast it out. She felt her face heat up from the closeness and had to internally calm herself.

“Ok (Y/n),” she thought, “just calm down. No need to get flustered over him being so close. He’s just helping you fish.” No one needed to know she had any sort of feelings for him.

Especially not Nolan.

She hadn’t liked him at first, always seeing Ike as an instigator, but seeing him without Nolan around changed her mind. He was kind. He helped her when she had spilt coffee on her outfit, when she needed directions. He always in the right spot at the right time.

Suspicious almost.

As long as Nolan isn’t nearby, her and Ike were close. They were friends in a way. He taught her more about the courtroom than Nolan and her father ever could. He was in it more than for money. He was in it for justice.

She admired that. She grew up seeing people so bent on how to make more than enough money that she grew tired of it. Seeing someone be helpful for more than a cash or charity award was refreshing.

“You got a bite.” Ike told her, helping her reel it in. Tugging it, a fish flipped onto the dock. Her eyes widened as it got closer to her.

“Ike. Ike do something.”

Ike laughed as he took it off the hook and tossed it gently in the water. “Scared of a fish, Miss Zarek?”

“As if,” she rolled her eyes, sitting on the dock again with her legs dangling off. He laughed and patted her head, to which she quickly ducked from. “Get your slimy fish hands off me!” She shrieked, pushing him away. He smirked and sat down next to her.

“I didn’t think you’d be so scared of a fish.”

“I’d take a fish over you.” She laughed and leaned back onto the dock, closing her eyes.

“Aw, you don’t really mean that.”

“Maybe not. Doesn’t matter.”

“I think it does,” Ike leaned back next to her and smiled. “And I think you care.”

“About what?”

“My opinion.”

“…”

“You always seemed to care so-“

“That doesn’t matter! Look- I… ugh. You’re impossible.” She groaned, turning away from him.

“Me? You’re the one who keeps switching up. One moment you’re sweet and the next you’re sour. C’mon, pick a side.” (Y/n) stayed silent at that. He was right, she tended to switch up around him. It’s only because he kept teasing her though! What else is she supposed to do?

A couple more minutes of silence passed before Ike spoke up again. “(Y/n)?”

“…”

“(Y/n)? Are you,” Ike leaned up and saw her body breathing softly, eyes closed. Her chest rose and fell slowly as the night passed by. “Oh. You’re asleep. Well… I can’t leave you here.” He shrugged and got up, picking her up before walking off to his car to drive her to his house.

He set her down on his bed and tucked her in, careful to not wake her up. He left the room and began to get ready for bed, deciding to sleep on the couch.

As morning came, (Y/n) woke up in a comfortable bed, confused as she looked around. This definitely wasn’t her room. It didn’t even smell like her. It smelled like coffee and cologne and… and Ike.

That’s right, she fell asleep at the dock. He must’ve taken her back to his house. She got up and walked out of the room, glancing around for him. She saw a counter with him standing a couple feet from it, stirring his coffee.

“Well, good morning sleeping beauty.” He glanced towards her with a smile.

“You brought me to your room?”

Ike nodded and leaned against the kitchen counter with a coffee in his hand. “You fell asleep. Should I have left you out at the dock? Or better yet, bring you to Nolan’s room?”

(Y/n) tried to hold on a laugh, already imagining the scenario.

“What should I have said? Hey Nolan, here’s your sister, she fell asleep while we were fishing at midnight. Do you really think that would’ve gone over well?”

“Mm, maybe not.”

“I don’t think your brother likes me too much.”

“Hates your guts.”

“Good to know,” Ike smiled and took a sip of his coffee. As she went to pick up her phone, almost dead, she saw over fifty messages. Nolan.

“Oh dear.” She muttered, immediately typing as fast as she could. Ike raised an eyebrow to her as she focused completely on the phone. “It’s Nolan, he wants to know where I am. I have to go, thank you so much! Oh uh,” before she went out the door she thanked him once more. “I can make it up to you… if you want! There’s this club nearby that’s not super high end and I could pay for drinks-“

“Of course. And no need to thank me. I’m just doing what’s right. Now don’t let Nolan know you were with me,” he laughed as she nodded and ran off, hurrying to call her brother.

“Wait- do you want me to drive you there?”

“And risk Nolan seeing your car? No way!” She laughed and kept running further from his house. He smiled and leaned on the door frame wistfully.

“She’s certainly something.”

—

“I was afraid you wouldn’t show up,” (Y/n) laughed awkwardly as Ike stepped out of his car. He laughed and took her arm as they walked in together and began drinking. The club was definitely more casual than what they usually went to but she enjoyed this. It wasn’t too often she could be more than a decorative doll.

So they started drinking together. And she kept the drinks coming. Maybe she should have thought more about how much she was drinking versus how much she could tolerate. She was REALLY letting her emotions spill.

“Y’know, you’re the only one who treats me like a person. To the rest I’m arm candy or stupid and can’t handle the real world. They never let me talk about me, only them.”

Ike nodded as she ranted, clearly having an effect from the drinks now.

“I mean, I’ve had them try and “teach” me how being a lawyer works and how court happens. I’m not dumb! Just because I’m not one doesn’t mean I don’t know how it works! I’ve seen it since I was ten for heavens sake!”

And then she couldn’t stop talking.

“And I guess that’s why I like you.”

Oh.

OH.

“You like me because I treat you like a person?” Ike took away her empty drink, keeping away any others.

“More than that. You teased me but I could handle it, it wasn’t like the others. And when I fell asleep you brought me to your house instead of leaving me outside. And you,” as she kept going on and on about what she liked about him, Ike drew her closer and whispered into her ear.

“Is that why you would always blush when I’d get near you?”

She nodded, leaning in closer to him. “It’s why I won’t regret this.” She pushed her lips into him, pulling away just as quickly as she came. Once she kissed him it seemed that she realized what she admitted. She had kissed him. The person her brother hated the most.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have.”

“I’m glad you did. I had been wanting that for a while,” Ike told her, pulling her close. He leaned in once more to her, tightly holding onto her waist.

“Ike, I- somewhere else. Not. Not here,” she groaned, pulling away to look at the bodies on the dance floor. No one seemed to be watching them but at any moment they could.

“Aw, getting shy now? Here,” he took her arm and led her away towards another room. Before they entered he leaned back in, kissing her cheek and stroking her back.

“(Y/n)?”

Ah shit.

That’s an awfully familiar voice.

“Barnes, what are you doing with my sister!”

“Tch.” Ike glanced to the side and pulled (Y/n) closer in his arms.

“That’s not a good enough response. (Y/n), I thought you knew better than this. What are you even doing at a club like this?”

“Well what are you doing here?” She shot back, sick of his double standards.

“I was looking for you. You leave in the middle of the night and don’t come back until noon one day and the next you just disappear! I had to track you down through your friends. I refuse to babysit you anymore-“

“Then leave me alone!”

“Not until he does.” The attention was turned back on Ike, still holding (Y/n) close in his arms protectively. She could feel the anger from Nolan, not needing to look at his face to see his disappointment.

“(Y/n) is an adult. She can make her own decisions. And it looks like she decided to be with me.”

Nolan stared down at the two of them before sighing and taking a step back. “(Y/n), if this is truly what you want then I won’t stop you. Just know what you’re doing. I won’t defend you after this.”

(Y/n) hesitated. She wanted to move away from Ike, to go to her brother but… she wanted to do what she wanted. She wanted to be more than Nolan’s sister and that’s what Ike gave her. He let her be her own individual. But with one glance at Ike, she felt the surge of emotions she always did. She tightened her grip onto him as Nolan nodded and walked away.

“I’ll have your bags packed tomorrow.”

Wait what

“What? Did you think I’d still be living with you? When you date my court room enemy?”

“She can just move in with me,” Ike said, hands on her shoulder and kissed the top of her head. Nolan rolled his eyes and walked away.

“He really kicked me out…”

“Do you. Should we go back to my place?” Ike hesitated, unsure of what to do with her. On one hand, she could live with him. On the other, she did just get kicked out by her brother.

“Yea. Yea we should.”

So they left to his house. Night fell on them as they walked in, silence filling the house. He took her to the bedroom and let her get into bed, planning to sleep on the couch once more.

“Ike-“

“Yes?”

“Could you… sleep with me? You don’t have to, I just-“

“Of course bunny.” Ike smiled and laid down next to her, pulling her closer to his chest.

“Thank you.”

[ikenbar]

Mr Love: Ike’s Choice CH 5 PT 1

Author’s Note:

Chapter five baby!! This is gonna be a fun one!! It is chock-full of fluff, angst, adventure, and thickening plot!! Only the best for Ikamara’s story B) I plan on taking lines straight from the game in this story. Normally I would make annotations but, after rereading the parts I have done that with, I have noticed that they can distract from the story. And because I have a lot of lines from the game in the coming chapters, I am just going to put the reference to the stages in the warning. If you have a problem with this, send me a message! Though I do write Ikamara’s story for myself, I also want to make the experience as pleasurable for any one reading as possible.

Thank you so much for the love and support for my story! Please read the author’s note (and the beginning of the story) on chapter one part one if you’re new here and would like to be familiar with the story!! :D

Enjoy Chapter Five!! :D

- Ike ‘n Bar Productions

Warnings: Words taken directly from Stage 8-1 from the game Mr. Love: A Queen’s Choice, there is also FLUFF!!!, sad children, ~✨🌈Gayness🌈✨~, and plot development that makes you  beg for more but are sadly left on yet aNOTHER cliffhanger :D

Prologue:

>>

The man in the white lab coat walked behind Marie as they made their way back down that familiarly dank hallway. They were quiet but that didn’t mean Marie would have it any other way. From all the medical talk and strange languages they spoke, silence seemed like the only thing she could understand anymore. 

They came to a stop in front of a door. He opened it and gestured for Marie to go in. She timidly did so, allowing him to close it shut behind her and lock it. It was a simple room with two beds. Not much there but it was enough. 

In one of the beds sat Marie’s roommate, and best friend. Normally the girl would be smiling and greet Marie with open arms, but today, she was just sitting on the bed, crying. Immediately, Marie ran to her side.

“What’s wrong?” Marie’s squeaky voice made the girl jump. She hurriedly wiped her eyes.

“Nothing.” The girl mumbled.

“Oh come on.” Marie jumped onto the bed and next to the girl, “You can’t say that right after wiping away tears.”

“...it’s just that.” The girl slowly began, “...I’m tired of the testing. I’d just wish they’d stop pricking us with those needles. You’re so lucky. Your skin is so thick, you don’t need needles.”

“Nah, I still get the needles.” Marie kicked her feet over the bed and kept her eyes on the ground, “I just have a special kind that's bigger.” The girl sighed and leaned on her shoulder.

“I just feel so…” The girl started, gesturing her hands uselessly, “... not safe.” Marie tensed slightly.

“You shouldn’t.” She said, making the girl look up at her, “You’ve got me! I will always protect you.” The girl smiled weakly.

“You promise?” She asked. Marie nodded seriously as she drew an ‘x’ on over her heart.

“Cross my heart.” She smiled. The girl sat up and threw her arms around Marie. Marie reciprocated the hug, making the girl laugh. The girls held their hug, indulging in the security of it.

“When we get out,” The girl said softly, “and we are no longer in danger, will you still protect me?" Marie held the little girl closer to her.

“Youri,” Marie said the girl’s name seriously, “There won’t be a moment where I will leave your side.”

>>

Chapter five:

Part one:

>>

I waited anxiously in my seat, tapping the mug of coffee in my hand. Youran and I had spent the past week talking and getting to know each other. In fact, there wasn't a day that had passed that we didn't talk. It surprised me how easy it was to talk with her. It was like we had clicked, becoming friends almost instantly. Almost as if we had already been friends before.

 I had even told Youran about my family. Though I addressed them as my biological family instead of my foster family. I didn’t want her asking questions about my life as a foster child. Not because I didn’t want to answer them but because I knew that, if she asked, I would tell her everything.

 It was strange to me. Never in my life had I been so open to anyone like that. It was almost suspicious. But every time I spoke to Youran, the suspicions left my mind. I would get this immense calm all over my body. It was something I had never experienced before. Something only she could give me.

But the suspicions and doubts were back. I met this woman while I'm being targeted and I just trusted her?! Just like that?! Plus, wasn't it weird that I feel so strange around her? Not to mention I had dreams about her right before meeting her! Could she have been someone from my past? Someone that wants me dead? One thing was for sure, waiting for her was a dumb idea. Especially if it meant potentially getting hurt. I still hadn't healed fully from Montu's attack last week. Waiting there like a sitting duck was a terrible way to get killed.

As I moved to stand from my seat, a chime came from the front door, making me look up. Youran pushed through the door, clearly in distress. Her hair was tied in a loose ponytail that fell just above a vibrant sundress that brought out her light brown eyes. She seemed to have put on some light makeup as well, my eyes being drawn to her flushed cheeks and glossy lips.

 Panting slightly, Youran scanned the café until her eyes landed on mine. She smiled brightly. And, just like that, my suspicions vanished once again as that calm hit me like a truck. She came running over to me. "Ike!" Youran threw her arms around me, nearly toppling me over, "I hope you weren’t waiting long! I am so sorry I'm late. I slept through my alarm."

“It’s no problem.” I patted her head gently, “It happens. Besides, I... just got here. So you’re fine.”

“Great!” Youran jumped back and clapped her hands together, “Give me one second to order a drink then we can start hanging out!” I smiled and nodded. Hanging out? What are we, teenagers… she sure made me feel that way. 

Youran smile brightened in return. She turned on her heel and hurried to the front counter. I watched her as she left. She looked cute with her hair up like-

I shook my head and dropped that stupid absent minded smile. What am I doing? Wasn’t I about to leave?! I cursed under my breath and held a hand up to my mouth. She did it to me again! How does she just change me like that? There has got to be a malice reason behind it…

After a moment’s hesitation, I stole another glance at Youran. She was looking at the menu intently, tapping her chin with her finger thoughtfully.

… Well... since I'm already here…

I took my seat again, sighing as I picked up my now cold, and nearly empty, cup of coffee. After waiting a minute longer, Youran came running back to the table. “Ok!” She said, taking a seat in front of me, “How are you?”

She seems so happy to see me...

“I’m good.” I smiled, “How are you?”

“I’m great!” She giggled, “Having coffee together was such a great idea! I feel like we only know each other through a phone screen.” I hummed in agreement as a barista walked over to us.

“Refill, mam?” She asked me politely. I looked at Youran.

“... Yeah.” I sighed, lifting my cup to her, “Fill ‘er up.” The barista complied. Once she had left, I sparked a conversation, "How’s the company, Youran?”

“Excellent thanks to your help.” Youran sighed, “Victor had little to nothing to correct from the report, all thanks to your edits. Of course, he guessed almost immediately that you had been the reason behind it.”

“Yeah, Victor’s smart like that.” I sighed, spinning my newly filled cup of coffee absentmindedly.

“What about you?” Youran leaned on the table and looked at me expectantly, “How’s Ike ‘n Bar Productions?”

“Not bad. We actually start filming a new tv show today. Bart’s already heading over now to scope it out.”

“Ooo! Nice! Who’s the cast?” Youran egged.

“Nope.” I deadpanned, “Not revealing anything until it airs.” I looked up from my cup and caught Youran glaring at me. She had her cheeks puffed out and her bottom lip over lapping the top one. I smirked. She was so cute when she was angry. “Alright, alright. You can come to the viewing party.”

“Really??” Youran beamed, making the pout I saw a distant memory.

“Yeah.” I sighed,  “Why not?” Youran cheered and clapped her hands, sending a warm feeling in my chest.

“Oh! But watch out! You may not be able to get through the production so easily!” Youran’s voice sounded like she was telling a ghost story. She added her fingers waving in the air for extra spooky flavor. I arched my eyebrow.

“What makes you say that?” I asked, amused by her childish behavior. Youran leaned forward slightly and spoke in a harsh whisper, “Did you hear about that hacker that has been attacking the web?” My brows furrowed slightly. A widespread internet paralysis broke out in Loveland that week. It affected all websites in the city. On every homepage there was a signature by a hacker named ‘Key.’ “Apparently, there was word of the hacker affecting cell phones as well.” Youran continued, “Hacking into your phone and stealing emails and personal information.” I rolled my eyes.

“Hogwash.” I sighed, “It’s just people speculating and stirring up a commotion. Don’t think about it too much.” Youran nodded and took a sip from her drink. Though she agreed with me, I could still see worry knitted in her eyebrows. I instinctively reached out and brushed them. Youran looked at me surprised. I felt my face flush as I quickly retracted my hand. 

“Sorry.” I stammered, covering my face with my hand, “You just… You have nothing to worry about. So you shouldn’t hold your face like that.”

“I don’t?” Youran asked, innocently.

“Of course not.” I said simply, avoiding eye contact and looking back into my cup, “Like I said, this is all speculation. This ‘Key’ is probably trying to make a name for himself. Pushing however hard he can to get people to notice him. You’ll be ok.”

“...And ...If I’m not?” Youran asked sheepishly.

“I’ll protect you.”

 I froze. Those words fell from my mouth without me realizing it. They came so easily to me. As if I had said it a million times to her before...

Youran placed a hand on top of mine. I looked up at her. She was smiling sweetly at me.

“Thank you.” She said, softly. Her eyes sparkled, showing me she meant her thanks. I looked down. Her hands are so cold… I twisted my hand to hold Youran’s. “... Did you get your nails done?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Yeah!” Youran shone brightly as she leaned forward, “I had them draw little pandas on them! Aren’t they cute??”

“Adorable.” I ran my thumb over her nails gently, a soft smile settling on my face, “Adri has been wanting to get her nails done. You’ll have to tell me the name of the place you went to.”

“Oh! How is Adri doing?” Youran asked, pulling her hand away to clap her hands together, “Wasn’t today her first day at her new highschool?” I opened my mouth but was cut off by a buzzing that came from my blazer pocket. I pulled out my phone and looked at the collar ID. Ho boy. “ Speak of the devil.” I looked up to Youran, “Do you mind?” She shook her head and smiled politely. I thanked her and stood up.. after making sure I was out of earshot, I answered the call.

“Speaking.” I said resoundly.

“Hello?” The principal of Loveland Lake High, Mr. Olson answered seriously. He still sounded the same as he did when I attended that school, if not a little more warily, “Is this Ike?”

“What did Sam do now?” I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose.

Mr. Olson chuckled, “Ah, about that. It isn’t Sam I’m calling for this time. It’s Adrienne.” I froze.

“What happened?”

“Our new student was called to my office for cursing at her teacher and starting a riot in the classroom.” I groaned, “She has been suspended starting immediately. I tried calling Maria and Bart but neither of them picked up.”

“Maria is at a doctor’s appointment for Lola and Bart is at a shoot that I have to meet him at in less than an hour.” I checked my watch. “Are you sure Adri has to start today? Can’t she just sit in the corner and think about what she has done?”

“I’m afraid not.” Mr. Olson chuckled. I sighed and held my face in my hand.

“...fine. I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

“Thank you, Ike. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault. Adri on the other hand will be receiving a solid talking to that may make her into a saint…. I’ll see you soon. Goodbye.” I hung up the phone and growled to myself as I walked back into the cafe. “I’m afraid I’ll have to go.” I said as I approached Youran, “I have to go pick up my sister early from school.”

“Oh no.” Youran’s smile fell into a look of worry, “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah.” I grumbled, stretching my jaw to stop it from clenching, “My sister is just a jerk to the underpaid.” I sighed, “The school is fifteen minutes away. By the time I pick her up and take her home, I’ll have to go to a shoot. I’m really sorry.” Youran shook her head and smiled at me.

“It’s nothing you couldn’t help. I understand.” She said this with a sweet smile but there was no denying the disappointment behind her eyes. I clenched my hands into fists inside my pockets. It felt as if I had a string attached to my chest that prevented me from just leaving Youran there, making it nearly impossible to leave her side.

“... Do you have plans for dinner tonight?” Youran looked shocked by my sudden question.

“No!” She answered quickly.

“Good. Don’t make any. We can finish chatting then. And it’ll be on me. To make up for bailing today.”

“But I was late!” Youran quickly jumped to stop me, “I’ll pay!”

“I really didn’t care that you were late. I can-”

“But I do!” Youran puffed out her cheeks stubbornly. Though normally, the stubbornness of others angered me, she still somehow pulled a smile out of me.

 “Fine. You can give me a ride there to make up for your tardiness. How does that sound?” I asked, lightly arching my brows. Youran nodded, her smile returning. “Good. I’ll text you the location of the shoot and you can pick me up from there.”

“Right!” Youran said, determinately. 

“See you tonight then.” I said. I hesitated a moment, then gave her a quick pat on the head. Youran giggled, bringing a sharp blush to my cheeks. Not willing to let her see it, I quickly started walking to the door.

“See you!” She said, waving to me as I left. I waved back as I pushed through the door, making the chimes tinkle melodiously. I felt a warm smile spread across my cheeks as I walked to the car. Youran was so sweet and caring to me. It was a kind of warmth I hadn’t felt since... My smile fell slightly. 

… I have never felt that kind of sweetness before... 

Why did it seem so familiar?

(Next)

[violetwolfraven]

It’s A Romcom Cliche

@gendistic42 here’s something I wrote as a Christmas present for you! I’m a bit swamped right now as far as writing projects but I may expand on this later. For now, enjoy a holiday piece. :)

I’ve never written from Mike’s perspective before, so this should be interesting.

Tw: underage drinking, general teenage chaos, vomit, who knows how to write that kind of party that doesn’t actually exist anywhere but in movies? not me!

Mike was definitely a bit drunk right now, but in his defense, he didn’t actually know the eggnog was spiked until he’d already had a huge cup and Ike told him matter-of-factly that he was going to throw up later.

In hindsight, Mike really should have seen that coming, but honestly he probably would have drank it anyway. It wasn’t like he didn’t usually leap before he looked.

That was what made life fun, after all. Taking risks without thinking. Thinking just lead to doubting yourself and doubting yourself just lead to not doing fun things and not doing fun things meant you were wasting your life. You had to seize the days you got, because otherwise why even live?

That was most of Mike’s friend group’s philosophy. Their little (junior, according to Elmer’s big brother who claimed they were too young to be a real motorcycle gang) motorcycle gang was full of impulsive, slightly-eccentric kids who lived in the moment. Of course, they looked out for each other as much as they could, confirmed excuses and alibis when necessary, but none of them worried much about their own safety.

Hence why they were having a huge party with spiked eggnog in December, meaning there was a likely possibility a lot of them would be staying overnight. Not that it mattered much.

Spot’s dad was at a conference in Boston and wouldn’t be back for at least a few more days. And if he did come back early for some reason, he’d probably just give them a lecture and then not tell anyone’s parents. Denton was cool like that. As long as nobody died, ended up in the hospital, or got anybody pregnant, he favored having the group’s trust over busting them, probably so he could be sure they’d come to him for help if there was a serious problem.

So far, through taking care of each other as best they could while having fun, there hadn’t been a serious problem.

Mike jumped as a tipsy Elmer grabbed his arm.

“Mike, buddy, this song fuckin’ slaps!”

Mike hadn’t noticed what song was on, given that his reaction time was currently a little slow, but he had to admit that Turn Down For What would always be a banger and being drunk just made it better.

He didn’t know how long he was bopping to the beat among his friends before he stopped, realizing that Ike’s prediction was about to come true, and barely made it to the toilet before puking his guts out.

Mike groaned. This was already becoming very un-fun, but throwing up was making him think about the killer hangover he was going to have in the morning. Also about how Ike had probably been drinking, too, so they’d need to stay the night at Spot’s. They could get a ride home, but hiding two drunk twins was significantly harder than just one.

In short, he was thinking ahead, which was reminding him why he didn’t like thinking ahead.

“Whoa, Mike, are you okay?”

Someone was rubbing his back as he retched, and Mike was officially shitfaced, because he could swear when he looked up that was Jojo de la Guerra.

He’d been joking when he invited Jojo. Not because he didn’t want Jojo to come, but because he’d never in a million years thought he’d actually show up.

“Did I pass out?” he groaned, hoping his words weren’t too slurred, “Am I dreamin’? Is that what’s happenin’ right now?”

“No?” Jojo looked confused, “You invited me.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

“Wait, are you drunk?”

“Yeah, that’d be accurate.”

Jojo now looked extremely nervous, “Ain’t everyone at this party underage?”

“Uh... I thinks one of Albert’s older brothers stopped by, so no. Wait, he left a couple hours ago, so yes.”

Mike was a little surprised when he slipped standing up and Jojo had to catch him. That was, he was a little surprised that Jojo could catch him. The nerd didn’t look like he had that much muscle on him.

Well, Mike was sure he was blushing, it wasn’t just the alcohol making his face flushed, but he wasn’t sure if the pink in Jojo’s cheeks was his imagination or not.

“Uh, do you need a glass of water or somethin’?” he asked nervously, “Why is there alcohol at a party where everybody’s underage, anyway?”

“Cause it’s fun,” Jojo said simply, “Ya think Mush and Blink’d be makin’ out against a wall in front of everybody if they wasn’t absolutely sloshed?”

“Okay, well, do ya need water?”

Mike thought about it, and he was pretty sure it wouldn’t take him so long to decide if he hadn’t drank so much.

“Nope. But I could do with some air.”

None of the others were sober and/or focused enough to notice as they made their way through the party to Spot’s back porch.

The air was icy cold, but Mike was overheated, so it felt good. And the snow was beautiful, reflecting light from the windows of the house. A few small icicles were hanging down from the roof above.

He wasn’t quite drunk enough that he didn’t notice when Jojo leaned against him, just a little, because of the cold. After all, Jojo was beautiful, too. Probably more beautiful than the snow.

But he didn’t say that.

“I love winter,” he said instead, “Ike and I used to play in the snow till we damn near froze to death. Or until one of us got a headshot in a snowball fight.”

“Sounds fun,” Jojo muttered.

“Oh, it was. And we’d stir our hot cocoa with candy canes when we went inside, so’s it’d be all minty.”

Mike smiled at the memory. They never did that anymore, whether it was because they were busy with homework or because they just... forgot, what with TV series to binge and Among Us games to win and friends to meet up with for a big snowball fight.

He liked their life now. He really did. Mike wouldn’t trade his friends for anything. But he had to admit, it had been simpler back when the only people he and Ike had were each other.

“And here you are now,” Jojo noted, “Drunk at a high school party on a back porch with that nerd ya partnered with for a science project once.”

“Well, that nerd happens to be my friend, so I counts that as a win.”

Jojo didn’t respond for a few seconds, and Mike realized.

“Wait, are we friends?”

They were close enough together that he could feel Jojo take a deep breath.

“I thinks so.”

That felt nice. And he could tell now. Jojo’s face was definitely flushed and it had been since before they came outside, so it couldn’t be from the cold. That sent a pretty clear signal, and...

“Mike, stop. What’re ya doin’?”

“I was gonna kiss you,” Mike said. He’d been pretty sure it was obvious.

Had he... been reading Jojo’s signals wrong?

“Mike, you’re drunk. Ya probably ain’t gonna remember this tomorrow. You don’t really care, it’s just that I’m here and no one else is. You don’t mean it.”

“I do mean it. Jojo—“

“You’re a boy in the biker gang all the girls and gays swoon over and you’re goin’ for me, the nobody from science class,” Jojo scoffed, “Sounds likely.”

“Jojo, it don’t matter who my friends are,” Mike tried to insist, “I like you. Like, like like you.”

“Even if I could believe you, there’s no way I’d kiss you while you’re drunk.”

That was worse than straight up rejection. Because Jojo was kind of saying that he did have feelings for Mike and just wouldn’t believe that Mike had feelings for him.

Mike had to focus on not crying for a good few minutes before he started realizing just how fast the snow was coming down.

“Hey, Jojo, how deep do ya think that snow is?”

“Shit.”

That made Mike laugh. He didn’t think he’d ever heard Jojo swear.

“It’s gotta be at least a foot, and still comin’ down. There’s no way anybody can drive home through that. Most of you’s is on motorcycles, and—“

That was when the lights inside went out abruptly, and more than a few people screamed.

Mike got up carefully, trying not to stumble too much, “We should find out what that was.”

They made it inside just in time to hear Spot holler, “A fuckin’ power line went down! And that don’t just mean no light and no WiFi—that means no heat! We ain’t got long before it starts to get real cold here!”

“I found the candles!” Hotshot (Spot’s little brother) yelled.

“Oh, that’ll help a ton,” Jack said sarcastically before Davey ran up.

Naturally, Mike’s mind chose that moment to go off on a tangent of how if Jack Kelly could get a smart boyfriend who was way too good for him, maybe he could too if he could just get Jojo to see that he really liked him, but he still caught what Davey said.

“There’s a foot of snow on the hood of my car. Nobody’s goin’ anywhere, so everybody text your parents before your phones run out of batteries.”

“What if my mom can tell I’m drunk?” Romeo shouted.

“I’m textin’ Mom, dumbass!” Jack shouted back, “For all of us! I’m the soberest person here!”

Race, Romeo, and Crutchie all called their thanks to their big brother.

“I think that’s me, actually,” Davey pointed out, “Soberest ain’t even a word, Jackie.”

Mike cupped his hands over his mouth and yelled into the darkness, “Ike, ya wanna text Mom and Dad, or should—“

“I’ll do it, moron! You’re shitfaced!”

“Shit,” Jojo was muttering as he typed a text, “Shit, shit, shit, I told my dad I’d only stay for an hour. Shit.”

“It ain’t your fault ya got snowed in,” Mike pointed out.

“No, but if my parents find out there was alcohol at this party—“

“Good news, y’all!” Spot hollered from the stairs, the multiple phone flashlights pointed at him the only thing making him visible, “Me and Hotshot’s dad has a big stash of blankets and sleepin’ bags and stuff, so we’s all gonna make a big nest and huddle together in the living room. Hopefully nobody freezes to death. If anybody don’t wanna sleep in what they’s wearin’, come find me!”

With that, he disappeared to go grab blankets.

“My parents are gonna kill me.”

“Don’t let ‘em,” Mike said, “I’d have to avenge you. Then I’d go to hell and I wouldn’t see ya in the afterlife! Plus you’d hate me for killin’ your parents, so—“

“Mike, please stop talkin’.”

“Wanna sleep with me?”

“What?!”

It took Mike a full 10 seconds to realize.

“Not like that!” he exclaimed as soon as he did realize, “Like if we’s all makin’ a nest to keep warm, ya wanna sleep next to me? For not freezin’ to death?”

Jojo was still looking at him pretty weird, and that made Mike sad.

“I’m sorry. Ya don’t have to. That was stupid. I’m stupid. I shouldn’ta said that, but I did cause I’m stupid. I’m sorry for everythin’. Like, everythin’. Everythin’ I’s ever said and—“

“Stop,” Jojo interrupted, “That’s... this is just gettin’ sad. Mike, it’s fine. Just... I guess I can’t expect ya to say things in a less weird way—you’re drunk.”

He didn’t seem especially annoyed or even uncomfortable. Just... blushing. Definitely blushing.

Mike could barely see him in the dark, but he still was pretty sure Jojo de la Guerra was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

“Uh, yeah, I’ll sleep with you. Next to you. Ugh. Just don’t barf on me.”

“Okay,” Mike mumbled. God, now that it was dark, he was already yawning. He didn’t remember where he’d left his hoodie. He should probably ask Ike about that.

It was already getting cold in the house, and the candles Hotshot was lighting definitely weren’t helping that much.

Mike didn’t mind how Jojo was sticking close to him even if it was probably just for warmth.