#this is oddly comforting thank you op

[asterefflores]

okay so, since I'm an impatient idiot and I absolutely loved the treats u gave us, I'm here to ask for another XDD (forgive this greedy soul for op content)

Soooo my request is seeing the sons and daddy Tristan together, so what if, Instead of spending that whole month in the henituse territory Cale having enough being watched liked a hawk and the sadness of what he did to rok soo made him go to tristan instead? Like he spend half the month in the henituse territory and the remaining with Tristan cuz he wasn't able to face rok soo knowing well he hurt him, but he was ignoring that to prevent himself from just going to his hyung hugging him and talking in general cuz he is an idiot, and then we get rok soo's perspective on how he feels about the whole Cale going to Tristan's place and how he felt hurt over what Cale said but simply choose to gloss over it cuz according to him his pain don't really matter and he gets over stuff fast and poor Tristan being stuck between his 2 idiot sons XDD noticed all that and wonders what he can do and does it lololol (tho we all know he is an dotting idiot too lolol)

So yeh, if it's not too much trouble could I trouble u with this request?!? Prettyy please! And thank you for the other treats, have a great day!

Okay lol this one will contain glimpses of the future in the fanfic,,

--------------

"Regarding the reports from the Northern Territory, have all the Northern Rulers know that I will be meeting with them in two days to discuss all the complaints."

“Yes, Your Majesty.” The man nodded respectfully. The sound of flipping papers came shortly after. “About the Dark River—”

Both men paused at the sudden sound of someone teleporting into the spacious round office with many windows all around. Eventually, a very familiar person came into view, standing on the teleport podium in the corner. 

 

“……”

The three people in the vast office the size of a hall just stared in silence. The man awkwardly looked between the Emperor and the son.

Cale blinked and nodded after the complete silence between the two, “Apologies for the interruption. I’ll head to my room—”

“Stay.”

And Cale stayed still as told, only stepping outside the podium when Tristan stared long at him to ensure he didn’t leave. He watched as his dad turned to the man beside him, giving him all the measures needed before dismissing him. 

The door closed quietly, and only Cale, with his dad, left in the silent hall.

Tap—

Tristan tapped the table with the few remaining reports and left it aside to work on later. He relaxed back in his seat and eyed his son, who was standing and was oddly silent. “I don’t see Rok-Soo with you this time.”  

Cale only hummed quietly. He blinked when a seat and a small table appeared from below the floor in front of the office table, and a cookie jar was put atop the table. He looked up and found Tristan munching on a cookie and had his own jar of cookies, most certainly prepared by Madelin. He smiled a little and walked to sit on the comfortable couch made for one person.

“So where is Rok-Soo?” Tristan asked casually, staring at Cale before him with the cookie in his hand.

“In Super Rock Villa.”

“Hmm,” Tristan looked at the jar to pick another cookie, “Did something happen there?”

“…no.”

“Hmm,” Tristan took a bite, nodding slowly while staring elsewhere, “What about your work?”

Cale took a bite of a cookie and hummed quietly, pleased with the taste, “Father is taking my place for now.”

“Mhm,” Tristan’s eyes landed on the glass of water left for him on the table. He made the glass float toward the small table instead. He took another cookie, “So, you had a fight with Rok-Soo?”  

 

“Kuh—! Ahm, mhm.”

Tristan watched as the redhead choked for a short moment yet maintained his elegance. “I see you two can fight like other siblings.” He hummed to himself, “You don’t want to face your brother?”

Cale let out a quiet cough with a slight frown, closing his eyes as he didn’t want to meet his dad’s knowing eyes. “No, I just need some time away from…everyone.”

 

“Do you consider me air or something?”

“Dad, please…”

“Hmm,” Tristan hummed with a hint of a chuckle as his son sighed, looking like a kicked puppy while pouting like that. Cale probably wasn’t even aware he was pouting, and Tristan could imagine Rok-Soo looking the same at the moment. “So, you came straight to my office instead of directly to your room for…?”

“Well,” Cale hesitated before meeting his dad’s eyes, “Can I stay here for a while?”

“You fuckers ask me permission every time when you both know damn well you got your own rooms prepared for you here. Are you two provoking me?” Tristan sighed lightly and cleaned his hand with the napkin, “Go ahead and run away from your responsibilities for as long as you need.” He smiled at yet another cough from his son.

“Dad—!”

“Okay, I’ll take mercy on you, pouty boy. Head to your room and be petty all you want.”

“Dad, seriously—”

“What? Am I not being nice enough to you? And here I am refraining from calling you my little coward son—”

“Thank you so much for welcoming me always. Good night, Dad.”

Tristan chuckled as Cale stood and walked straight to the door, “Join us for dinner, kid.”

Cale paused shortly, giving a quiet ‘Okay’ before closing the door behind him.

.

.

Cale stared at the ceiling while lying on his incredibly comfortable bed. After visiting many times ever since Tristan handed them special teleporting devices when the tower was constructed and ready, Cale was almost sure the bed was built with some calming effects, either by magic or something else, probably with Tristan’s powers or spirits, along with Killian’s inventions.

Even though he wasn’t spending his time any differently, the feeling was still much better here in Tristan’s tower than in his room in the Henituse mansion. Breathing was way easier in his room here.

He took a calm inhale and slowly closed his eyes, sighing quietly after. He felt like he was floating on clouds.

Ting—

He opened his eyes after a while at the soft sound from the small screen built into the bedside table.

[ Dinner’s ready. Come over to the private dining room. ]

Cale hummed at his dad’s message, forcing himself to leave his bed and move to the teleport podium in the corner of his spacious room. He stepped on the circle and tapped on the screen at the side to choose the location. He smiled briefly at the memory of Rok-Soo’s extremely pleased face at how convenient the invention was and thanked Tristan for days for being considerate of his slacker life.

He waited for the light to surround him and opened his eyes to find himself in the familiar, cozy room with a small dining table for five people.

“Oppa!”

“Lillian,” Cale ruffled his little sister’s white hair fondly, smiling down as she hugged him happily, “How have you been, dear?”

“Great! I missed you so much!” She blinked up at him before looking around behind him as if searching for someone, “Rok-Soo oppa…?”

“…he’s not with me this time.”  He patted her head while looking at the Empire from the window to his side.

“Oh…”

He felt so bad at how disappointed she sounded, considering he was the sole reason for Rok-Soo’s absence this once…

“All right! Time to eat, kids.”

 

He blinked and looked over at Madelin, his mother from his past life, smiling sweetly at him with the cheerful air around her as usual. Though, he could tell she knew something already. He glanced at Tristan, finding his dad giving him the knowing eyes and waiting for him as he relaxed in his seat with his chin resting on the back of his hand elegantly.

He let out a quiet fake cough and walked with Lillian to the table, “Good evening, mama.” He smiled as his mother looked pleased with the name, like always. He glanced briefly at the only empty seat before focusing on the food in front of him. He blinked twice; he noticed that all of his favorite foods were on the table.

“Well then, let’s dig in!” Madelin announced with a light clap, picking up the fork and knife, “I had to cook for tonight’s dinner when Tristie told me our precious Cale is here.” She said as she picked one piece of beef, eating it before the rice.

“Ah, thank you so much, you didn’t have to…” He tried the Korean food before him and hummed in delight. Madelin is really skilled at cooking and mastering any recipe in no time, as always.  

He ate and talked with Lillian and Madelin while Tristan remained quiet the whole time he ate, simply listening to the three chatterboxes around him as usual. As always, Tristan was the first to finish, and instead of leaving the table, Cale watched his dad relax in his seat and pull out the device, which looked like a phone, probably checking over the news and other reports of his Empire while Madelin and Lillian kept talking. To any outsider, it would look like the mother and daughter were having a rather serious discussion when the discussion was about Madelin allowing and encouraging Lillian to wear high heels more often.  

“Aww, but you look so adorable with them, honey!”

“Hmm…” Lillian pouted as she thought about it, looking at her brother then. “Oppa, what do you think?”

“Right, you also think your sister looks cute in them, right, Cale?”

“Well, Lillian certainly looks cute and good in everything…”

“Wearing high heels too long is bad for your back and legs.” Tristan calmly offered his thoughts while still keeping his eyes on the communication device.

“Ignore what this old man says for now, kids.” Madelin said with a cheeky grin at Cale and Lillian.

Tristan finally looked away from the device to frown at his wife, “It is bad, though. You yourself don’t wear them very often. You’re even wearing your sleeping slippers now.”

“I still love wearing them from time to time! Besides, Lillian didn’t complain once about any pain! I wouldn’t make her wear them if I noticed she was even in the slightest pain, darling!”

“Then why is she refusing them now if that is the case?”

“Because Papa said it’s bad.”

“Huh? I’m the reason?”

“You lovely old man!! I knew it was your fault!”

Cale chuckled as Tristan put away the device and started bickering with Madelin, with Lillian cheering for the both of them, looking so used to it by now and even enjoying it.

Even though this is an Imperial family here, they still looked like any other loving family in this cozy small room, laughing and having fun together.

He was once again very aware of the vacant seat to his left, and he instantly felt a void in his heart. He looked down at the food, slowly turning his head to gaze at the night sky through the window.

  

He thought of how Rok-Soo always enjoyed the moments in this little dining room, even if he usually looks unbothered on the outside.

He lightly rubbed his upper arm as he crossed his arms. He wondered if it was him or if the air in the room was a bit cold tonight.

He missed Tristan and Madelin’s glances toward him as they kept talking.

.

.

Cale walked in silence as he followed Tristan. He didn’t know why his dad came in the afternoon telling him to join him in a walk around the tower, but he didn’t have anything better to do, so he agreed without much question. Besides, watching the Empire with all the cities from the windows around in the serene corridors was really enjoyable to him; the sight was truly beautiful and showed how much Tristan worked hard as the new Emperor after all the mess with the Initial Inhabitants. 

‘Hm?’ He finally noticed where they were heading, finding the door very familiar. ‘Isn’t that… the main teleport room?’ He slightly flinched when his wrist was grabbed as they approached the door. “Um, dad…?”

He was kindly dragged into the round room and straight into the podium. He kept blinking as he tried to understand what was happening while Tristan pressed on the screen quickly and with ease, and the light surrounded them in seconds.

Huh?

“Where is Rok-Soo?”

He opened his eyes when Tristan suddenly asked the next second. He stiffened as he was met with familiar faces he had been avoiding, all staring surprised at him and Tristan…

“The Kitten Young Master is in his room, sir.”

Ron was the first to answer and soon put on his benign smile respectfully in front of the Emperor of the newly revealed Empire.

Tristan walked past everyone in the Villa without any response, with Cale still dragged silently behind him.

.

.

“Human! Human!!”

Rok-Soo answered Raon with a sleepy hum as he was still too lazy to wake up and start the day.

“Purple Grandpa is here!!”

And Rok-Soo suddenly sprung up with his poker face as if he wasn’t asleep a second ago, sitting still with his slightly messy hair. ‘Tristan is here? Why? Did something happen?’ so many questions flooded his head all of a sudden as he couldn’t recall one time when his dad visited the Villa; it was always in the Henituse mansion whenever he paid a visit or the Royal Palace for meetings with Alver, so something must have happened in this case, right? Is it Cale? Did something happen to Cale?

And two knocks came from the door shortly after.

“Rok-Soo, I’m coming in.”

“Y-Yes, Dad!”

Raon looked confused when Rok-Soo’s voice sounded weird as he answered just now and hurried to get up from the bed.

Rok-Soo ignored how his voice cracked embarrassingly and braced himself for bad news, but he froze in place when the door opened, revealing Tristan and…Cale, with Ron standing behind with his vicious smile.

“Well, good to see you're wide awake.” Tristan commented with a shake of his head at his lazy son standing before him like a statue with his pajamas and bed hair. He walked calmly while still dragging Cale with him, sitting down on the couch. Crossing his legs and arms, Tristan turned to Rok-Soo, who was still standing in his place. “Come sit down.”

Ron looked amused as the older redhead almost jumped from his place to sit down as if he had teleported within seconds.

Rok-Soo sat straight, looking down with his stoic face. ‘Is dad upset with me? Did I make a mistake after all? Was the way I approached Cale wrong? Is dad here to scold me?’ He, however, calmed himself by thinking everything should be all right if he apologized properly, and Tristan would understand and calm down, right?

Cale sat straight and kept looking a little down, feeling a bit betrayed by his dad after he was told to hide in the tower for as long as he wanted, and now he suddenly found himself seated before the very person he had been avoiding for nearly a month. No, it hadn’t even been a month yet!

Ron was amused by the two brothers’ father from their past life sitting on the middle couch and wondering why the two were so tense and scared like they expected to be hit any second now. Ron thought again the Emperor was indeed the two redheads’ father after all.

The old assassin butler closed his eyes and put a cup of tea in front of the Emperor, finding joy in how the glare looked similar to the two brothers’ at times.

Tristan stared at the tea for a moment before picking the cup at last, “Go ahead and talk.”

Everyone around waited in silence. The kids looked between the two redheads. Choi Han, Choi Jung-Soo and Sui Khan stood by the door with Vicross, feeling the tension in the room yet couldn’t help but find the situation a bit humorous. 

“I’m sorry, hyung.”

Finally, the younger redhead broke the silence, sounding small and unlike usual…

Rok-Soo looked at his dongsaeng, who, despite looking regretful, forced himself to look him in the eyes.

“I’m sorry. I really…I really didn’t mean any of the awful things I said that day.”

“…I know.”

Like everyone, Ron had a fond smile as he looked at his Puppy and Kitten Young Masters making up and being themselves again, as simply as that, and the one who made this meeting happen so easily was now casually sipping on lemon tea in the middle.   

“Hmm,” Tristan frowned slightly at the tea before looking up at Ron, “Your tea is disgusting.”

“…pfft,”

The two redheads tried hard to contain their laugh at their dad's abrupt remark.

“Hoo,”

Rok-Soo stopped immediately at the vicious sound from the old butler and quickly straightened his back. Cale coughed quietly and looked at Ron, still struggling to stop himself from laughing, “Ron, Dad is trying to tell you to take everyone outside and give us a moment alone.”  

Ron looked at the Emperor, who raised a daring eyebrow with the cup still in his hand. “Yes, sir.” He closed his eyes with his benign smile, still looking amused as he moved to lead everyone outside and closed the door silently behind his back.

“Now, talk like the good siblings you are.” Tristan took another sip with his eyes closed, making the two redheads slowly calm down and take their time to understand each other.

It took less than half an hour for everything to be cleared up at last.

“Goodness, you two really are still kids, huh?” Tristan sighed between the two, and they looked down, feeling sorry for having dragged their dad into their silly fight when he had his hands full of matters regarding his Empire. “Rok-Soo,”

Rok-Soo slightly flinched, “Yes?”

“Next time you notice Cale acting odd and find it hard to stop him from bathing in reports and work, you can tell me, and I’ll deal with it immediately.”

“…yes, Dad.”

Tristan nodded, still sipping tea, “And Cale,”

Cale hesitantly looked at his dad, “Yes?”

“It’s always better to talk to someone if you feel bothered by something instead of dealing with it alone. Rok-Soo and I are always ready to listen anytime, got it?”

Cale slightly looked down as he felt Rok-Soo’s eyes on him. “…yes, Dad.”

“Good,” Tristan nodded again, sighing next, “But seriously, this tea is gross, yuck.”

“……”

Rok-Soo and Cale looked at their dad, then at each other, holding back their laugh.

‘Right, Dad also hates sour things, especially if they contain lemons…’

They were almost sure Ron gave Tristan the cup, secretly enjoying the grimace the famous intimidating Emperor was doing his best to hide.

Tristan soon returned home and completely forgot to explain to his sons that Madelin went to the Henituse family for a ‘friendly’ talk, but he shrugged and focused on his work anyway.

[beyourownanchor6]

thanks for the tag love @wikiangela 🩵

—more from duck buck ✨christmas edition✨ this wips getting out of hand and i’m loving is so much 😅

“So, what brings you by today Mr. Buckley?”

It felt all too formal, Buck wrinkling his nose for it. Eddie was trying to remain professional, ok?

It’d been about a week since the incident, Eddie finding himself looking Buck over, the stitches covered with some gauze, Eddie finding that a little odd. They should’ve healed by now.

“So did you find—”

“Are you taking care of your wound?” Eddie asked, cutting Buck off with a look toward his forehead.

Buck tilted his head sideways as he thought it over, finally arriving on the same page as Eddie. He placed a hand up to it, running his fingers over the dressing. “Oh yea, it’s fine. I accidentally re-opened them, but doc said it’s all good.”

“You re-op—”

Buck waved him off. “It’s fine. Happens all the time.”

That admission did not comfort Eddie in the slightest.

“Anyway,” Buck continued, bypassing all of Eddie’s worries. “So, did you catch the duck-nappers?”

Eddie let out a heavy sigh, taking another sip of his coffee. It was definitely way too early for Evan Buckley and his duck issues.

“No Buck, we have not.”

Buck frowned. “Any leads?”

Eddie didn’t’ want to be a dick, especially for the sincere look on Buck’s face, but there was quite literally no news. Nothing worth mentioning anyway.

Even so, Eddie decided to appease him, clicking through some things on his computer and shuffling through a few files on his desk. Buck awaited his answer eagerly, leg shaking a mile a minute as Eddie went.

Eddie cleared his throat as he scrolled, wishing he had more to tell Buck.

“Well unfortunately we haven’t been able to find the…duck-nappers yet. We sent off the DNA under your fingernails for testing, but nothing’s come from it yet.”

Buck pushed his lower lip out, Eddie finding it oddly adorable.

tagging: @loserdiaz @redlightsandicedtea @monsterrae1 @honestlydarkprincess @onward--upward @spotsandsocks @buddierights @barbiediaz @eddiebabygirldiaz @spaceprincessem @wh0re-behavi0r @santadiazz @disasterbuckdiaz @hippolotamus @thewolvesof1998 @daffi-990 @wildlife4life @giddyupbuck

[missmungoe]

Hi! Hope you're enjoying your time in Japan (welcome! sorry it's so warm) so please don't feel obliged to answer this.

I read Heed the Siren's Call on ff.net many many years ago and it 1) was my comfort fic, and 2) introduced me to OP (yes, I read the fic before reading the manga cause I loved your writing and I'd finished all the FT/HTTYD fics). I only just discovered the whole Sea Shanties series on AO3 so I've been devouring it with great delight (and many tears - so many tears).

I just wanted to thank you for your fics, for introducing me to my one of my favourite mangas, for showing a lonely teenager a heartrending picture of love and family and that a gentle heart can be as strong as any pistol punch. And because OP was a big part of my partner and I becoming friends - helping me find my own Shanks, of sorts.

Ngl, I debated sending this for a long time cause it feels pretty self-indulgent. But I'm getting married in 6 months so I'm in an oddly sentimental mood. Anyway I hope it is some encouragement to hear of the impact your stories have had on people! ❤️

I got this a few days ago and have been thinking about it ever since. I don't even know which part hit me the hardest, although "showing a lonely teenager a heartrending picture of love and family and that a gentle heart can be as strong as any pistol punch" is one hell of a contender. And ahhh congratulations on your upcoming wedding!!! I love hearing about people finding each other, and hearing that I had even a tiny part in you finding your partner makes me unreasonably happy :')

I'm so glad you decided to send me this, because getting it meant everything<3

[rabbitenn]

Kyouko Kyouko! Her is my first request~ Can I request Tenn with an idol!s/o who returned in the work recently (they were in a hiatus for some reasons) and who wears different wigs while going on tv/on stage as to not get fans while doing normal things like dating or groceries (sorry it's oddly specific ops) thank you in advance~

SUISAI.

Suisai — Japanese. Meaning ‘watercolor.’

Because no matter what, you were his favorite shade of love.

ft. Kujo Tenn x gn! reader.

cw/genre: fluff, romance.

hello, love ! thank you so much for requesting <3 I apologize that this took a while to complete, I still hope I managed to write this to your liking and that you enjoy, mwah !

— Shades of ash and steel hung over the skies the day the famed idol [Y/n] announced their temporary hiatus from the stages. Reactions from fans were as diverse as the colors of the sky just as the sun dips behind the horizon, but a gloomy mood helplessly settled over the crowd.

— You needed a little respite after your last tour, having powered through concert after concert, no matter if you were coming down with a cold, tired from late nights or the sky was pouring down.

— Plus, the fame you had gained throughout it all brought more and more fans into your daily life: when you went grocery shopping, taking walks, to cafes… You were happy seeing their smiles when they recognized you and asked for autographs, you really were, but a small part of you was growing weary with so little privacy.

— Thus, the decision was made, your agency having approved too.

— Even your boyfriend, the renowned Kujo Tenn from TRIGGER, was relieved to hear you were taking care of yourself. Obviously you teased him about it, seeing how he always pushed himself to give his 110% for his fans no matter the circumstance.

— Poking his cheek, you smirk in amusement: “Look who’s talking.” Which is met with big maroon eyes looking to the side. “If I recall correctly, you left your hospital bed once to perform, even if you were on the brink of fainting, huh?” Another poke, to which he pouts, cheeks taking on a rather vivid tint.

— “This is different.” He mumbles. “Your health and comfort are important to me, my love.” He sighs, guiding your head to rest against his chest. Both because he missed you during your tour, and so that you don’t tease him for blushing like this anymore.

— But just as one fateful day, your temporary break was announced, sunny skies greet the overjoyed cheers of an audience as they get in line to enter the venue.

— “[Y/n], back on stage.” Different neon signs and luminous panels announce, as the crowd can barely contain their excitement. Images of you litter the space outside the building, except there’s a difference in your looks this time.

— You’re still pretty much the same as before your hiatus, except your usual hairstyle is kind of different now, both in color and styling. You chose soft pink for this occasion, with twin half pigtails. Of course, Tenn’s signature color; you really want to feel the way his hand reassuringly squeezed yours before going on stage, throughout all your performance.

— Plus it seems the public likes the new image, for as you make your final move and sing the last note of the evening, deafening applause engulfs you, in a cacophony of shouts: “So happy you’re back, [Y/n]!” mixed with “You look so cute!”

— And thus, your colorful hairstyles became your trademark. From pinks that reminded you of Tenn’s loving kisses, to dusky purples, to midnight blues, to sunny shades of gold, you always managed to impress your fans with a different styled wig at every concert and music video.

— But, of course, the masses’ expectation and anticipation as to which color and style you will wear next were not the main reason you settled for this approach.

— Because now, your daily life is much more peaceful; despite your job offers for commercials and shows having increased since your return, rare are the occasions in which you are stopped in the middle of doing your daily life activities, given that you don’t don your signature colorful wigs off-stage.

— Which, in turn, makes your love life a lot more private too.

— With the added bonus that Tenn loves seeing you in all the different hairstyles (he cherishes the quiet intimate moments the most, in which you are your natural you, however).

♡

Early october air brushes through tree branches, the patches of sky visible through them, a mosaic of lavenders fading into candle-flame oranges.

The ambiance is balmy, a little hot for this time of year, although not unpleasant.

Then again, how could anything ever be less than lovely when he was by your side?

Your head gently leans on your lover’s shoulder, the calmness of the park you currently sit at lingering around you, in an ebb and flow of unsung melodies; a unique pattern of notes following the path of evanescing sunbeams.

Svelte fingers comb through the soft strands of your hair. Today, you wore it in his favorite style for you: just natural. Your own hue, reflecting the dipping sunset; tresses let loose.

This was Tenn’s idea of perfection. You were his idea of perfection.

“Isn’t this nice, my love?” You ask him, lashes fluttering closed, your cheek squished against your boyfriend’s form.

Tenn’s gaze lands on you, molten rose quartz reflecting dawn light over snowy heavens. A soft smile curls his lips, as he wraps an arm around you.

“Indeed.” He muses, with a tender kiss to the crown of your head. “As much as I like giving my fans the best performances and seeing you on stage,” his head rests on top of yours. “This quiet… I like it.” Your lover breathes out, hand finding yours, fingers laced over your touching knees.

Now it is you who reaches out to gently peck his cheek, caressing his flushing skin.

“You’re adorable, Tenn.” You chuckle, as you wrap your arms around him, staring into the watercolor horizon.

A group of teenage girls practice a dance routine not faraway from where you and your boyfriend are sitting.

You know it by heart, it’s the one from your debut song, after all. They don’t seem to have recognized you. You smile fondly; a stray football comes rolling, softly hitting Tenn’s shoes. With a reassuring smile, he passes it to the redhead child that comes running after it; an elderly couple sit on a bench a few meters away from you. You smile at the sight, they seem to be so in love.

Resting your chin on your hand, you glance in your beloved’s direction.

Snowy locks flutter in the wind, akin to a halo, like the approaching moon’s.

“What’s on your mind, dear?” You ask him, tucking a few strands of hair behind his ear.

Turning around slightly, the idol removes his scarf, draping it over your shoulders instead.

“Mostly how the sky reminded me of you just now.” Tenn utters, tucking the comfortable piece of cloth closer around you. “Its colors. They shine, like you always do.”

“Really?” You giggle, amused.

“That’s right, my love.” He brushes the hair out of your eyes. “You’re like dawn, or dusk, or starry nights, full of light, bringing joy to everyone. And you make me fall in love with you every single time.”

You stand there, a little mystified at his direct words, heat, enough to replace the fading sun’s, rising to your cheeks.

What a charming angel he was.

“You’ll fluster me!” You whine, burying your face deeper into his scarf.

“You’re rather adorable like that too.” Tenn whispers, as his hand finds the side of your face, those eyes that mirrored winter sundowns drinking in every lash and pore that constellated your lovely features.

As the sky paints itself in shades of violet and dreams, Tenn extends his hand to you.

You take it, and together, you walk, not under stage lights this time, but under the stars.

[anonzentimes]

​god i cant believe youre real OP. its so unbelievably rare to find people who are able to understand and speak about komaeda exactly like this. Super amazing! Im glad hes made it to you <3 I really dont know how to tell you how much I appreciate your blog, I just hope you know it !

DUDDEE THANK YOU SO MUCH YOU'RE SO SWEET!!! I'm always so worried that I'm not able to understand the media I like enough or am doing it justice so hearing MULTIPLE people say I understand him is so reassuring!! It really has so much weight considering how often he's misinterpreted or misunderstood, it makes me really happy to know people appreciate my rambles. It's so silly but it really is such an oddly personal but impactful compliment haha! I'm beyond happy he made it to me too, my life genuinely wouldn't be the same without him. Nagito caused a domino chain effect for so much of my growth and experiences that it's comical.

It also means a lot to me because in the 3 years I've loved him at the beginning I wasn't able to articulate things like I do now! Recently I've been really improving at articulation and it's been so nice. I finally am able to thoroughly communicate why I like him and the things that make him, himself! The combination of trying to be more comfortable and confident with myself, rambling more on social media and to friends, and reading slightly more has really been beneficial for me and I've been really happy about it. Thank you for enjoying my blog!

[sunlit-tickles]

Loverboy

Adonis / Rei

Ensemble Stars

A/N: Before the summary, this kind of has a ship implied! It's Adosou/Soudonis! If you're not comfortable with the ship, I advise you to click off for your own comfort ^^!

Summary: Adonis has never experienced a crush before so he's terrible at hiding it, making Rei a bit suspicious about what's going on.

---☀️

This felt all so wrong! Not wrong but...conflicting. Adonis had been having a never ending conflict for days, even weeks now. At first he was denying it, but now he just fully accepted that he accidentally caught feelings for someone he's not supposed to, his best friend. There was nothing wrong with liking Souma! It's just that...he was kinda conflicted on how this'll change their friendship. He felt all giddy and happy inside whenever he'd see him, but now that he's sure that he likes him, he couldn't help but changed the way he acted. Adonis started freezing around him, stopped talking mid sentence, or even accidentally getting red around him. It was so embarrassing...! Not only that, but Souma also started noticing the change that made him feel even worse since he thought he was sick! But he couldn't help it especially since he started seeing him in an entirely different way. He didn't want to but it just happened...!

These thoughts clouded Adonis' head to the point he couldn't even think straight and started messing up during rehearsals. He would start doing his moves late and get behind or he would forget to sing and skip some parts of the song. He felt so embarrassed from all of this...! He just wanted all of it to go away as he didn't know how to exactly deal with these kinds of things. As they were packing up, Adonis sat down on the practice room's floor and sighed. "Oi Adonis, tomorrow we'll just practice better tomorrow and don't be upset about it!" Koga said, patting his back to comfort him about his mistakes. "Thank you Oogami. I'm sorry for today, I'm not thinking straight that's all." And just shortly after, both Kaoru and Koga left the practice room and waved goodbye. Adonis planned to stay for a while longer to get rid of his frustration through cleaning but was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder.

"You've been oddly out of it~ Is there something on your mind?" Rei asked as he stood behind his junior, both hands rubbing his shoulders to ease tension yet failing at it. He felt him raise his shoulders with a sharp inhale and he looked slowly back at him "y-yes, I'm fine. Thanks for asking Sakuma-senpai." Adonis smiled and tried to keep on cleaning to not show the faint blush growing on his cheeks. He doesn't want him to press on other wise it'll make this more embarrassing, but knowing his senior, nothing good will come out soon enough. He continued to wipe a damp towel down the floor but was once again interrupted by his senior who was staring down at him with a smirk. He once again grabbed his shoulders and pulled him to sit up straight "Hm? There it is again, you're acting real weird. What's gotten into ya?" The purple haired one sealed his eyes shut as he didn't want to face his senior with a flushed face as he tried to hide his expression again "I can assure you I'm fine, it's just that we should continue cleaning. I can finish it so you won't have to Sakuma-senpai." He says, trying to excuse his way out of this but it's not working as the other kept closing in on the distance between them. "Hmm..." Rei hums, staring into his junior's face, clearly admiring at how he still had the guts to hold his facial expressions despite it being obvious. "Alright, just do your best for tomorrow's practice. Take a rest and go home after."

The door creaked open and then shut. 'He finally left..." Adonis thought as he wiped the floors clean before standing up to put away the cleaning materials. He still thought about it...What if Souma thought of it as weird? What if he doesn't want to be friends anymore if he finds out? All these couldn't leave his mind and he sighed heavily, opening the cabinet to return the items. Before he could even store all the equipment, hands suddenly pulled him back out of nowhere and hugged him as they both fell down to the floor. "AH!? Who goes the-" "So you're hiding something from us, Adonis-kun?~" Rei had somehow managed to trick him into thinking he left the room and is now holding him into this tight hug on the floor, trying to get him to spill. Normally, Adonis wasn't stubborn but for this case? He was keeping his mouth sealed shut. He didn't want his secrets out so he shook his head and tried to lie again "Oh so now you're keeping secrets? It's pretty obvious y'know..." The purple haired one's eyes grew wide as he turned his head around to face the evil smirk on the 'vampire's' mouth "O-Obvious...?" He questioned, his mouth shaking from nervousness "You've been blushing the entire time and you're even more silent than before. Someone caught your eye~?" He teased, it was mainly a joke but he struck gold when Adonis' face burned bright red and he turned away from him. His assumptions were right...! That was so cute...! "A-Ah, I was just teasing but did I get it right!?" Rei asked from excitement but the other refused to answer and kept his back turned from him to not show his really really really red face!

"Wait so who is it--?! C'mon tell me--! Don't leave me curious Adonis-kun!" Rei trapped Adonis into a tighter hug, making him unable to escape which causes him to panic a bit. Oh they were gonna stay here for a while... "I-It's no one! I promise!" "You're lying it shows on your face! You're too honest, you can't lie very well...!" Rei started giggling as he started playfully tormenting his very flustered junior. "I'm not lying...!" "This is my first time seeing you like this! It's such endearing side of you. I'm still curious on who it is though and you know I won't stop 'til you spill their name~" this was getting dangerous! Adonis tried to get out of his grasp but he was trapped so well that he couldn't even squirm as much. He honestly expected Rei to just keep him there for as long as he wants but his nerves got set on fire right after he felt a hand squeeze both his ribs "aAH-!? S-Sakuma-senpai what are you doing..?!" His eyes lit up in panic as he tried to get away, but he underestimated the strength of his senior as he held him down with ease. "Just motivating you a bit...! You've been so tense you should at least smile while, y'know, spilling the name...!" And just like that ten fingers suddenly dug under his shirt from behind and started scratching his stomach. Adonis threw his head back and kicked his legs out, covering his mouth partially to hide his blush "WAHAHAhahait! NOhoho! Yohou're tihihicklIHIHINng meheheee...! SahahahaHAHAKUHUMAhaha-sehenpai!!" This was so humiliating! Not only did he have to think about how he'll subtly try to confess about his feelings, but he couldn't even think straight due to the sensations!

Honestly, Rei understood if he didn't want to say anything, he just wanted to tease him since it was rare to see his junior act like this! He was always so calm and collected that it felt so nice to see him go out of character every once and a while. The vampire chuckled and hugged him tighter, putting on leg on his thighs to trap him fully. He moved his hands and started to skitter his fingers on Adonis' sides. "Well, I am tickling you Adonis-kun. So of course it's gonna feel like that. I mean, you already know how to get me to stop right~?" "NOhohoho-!!" "Oh? You don't know what I want?" "NOhoho...! I mehehean stop tihihickling mehehHEHEHehe-!" Adonis' eyes were squeezed shut as he tried to focus on squirming away and enduring the tickles. He wasn't that ticklish but he was still weak to it! "Well I'll stop the moment you tell me what I want~! C'mon it's not that hard loverboy...!" "Dohohon't cahahall mehehe thahahat!!" "Hm, fair point it does sound more like a nickname for Kaoru. Fine no nicknames but I'm curious! I promise I won't snitch!" Adonis shook his head and tried to push Rei away to no avail. He can't let him know...! It's not that personal but it's so embarrassing! He wasn't known for romance or any of that stuff, this was going to be the end of him...!

'He's persistent to these things huh...' Rei thought while continuing his torment 'Well he did have three sisters...I guess he's used to these.' He moved onto squeezing his hips which earned a much more rewarding reaction as Adonis started jumping and squirming even more, laughter increasing by tenfold "AHAHAHhahahaHAHHAHA!! STOHOHOhohop ihihit-!!! ThheherHEHERES NOHOHOTHING TO Sahahay-! sahaHAHAKUMA- SEHENPAI!!" He shook his head trying to deny it but when he peeked one eye open he saw Rei's teasy expression. It was obvious he didn't fall for it. "Red face, constantly freezing, you're not even that outgoing but you still somehow made yourself shyer. It's so obvious~! There's nothing to be ashamed of!" And just like that, Adonis' face heated up even more! His face was so red he didn't even bother to fight back anymore and retreated his hands to cover his face. "Still being stubborn hm?" He hummed as he moved closer to the purple haired one's neck, whispering in his ear "remember, this can and will get worse...!" That...wasn't an empty threat. As much as Rei was known as their senior for being too chill about things and even complaining that he was too old for alot of activities, he was still an older brother that often tormented the members of UNDEAD and others with tickling if something particular didn't go his way. Knowing this, he started feeling even more nervous than before.

Before he could even process anything, Rei had somehow found a way to locate his worst spot immediately! He hadn't even gotten involved in any of the tickle fights he started before! Adonis' eyes shot open as he felt a squeeze on his thighs, jumping up before crashing down and laid down on Rei's chest unintentionally. "EHEHEEK-! WAhahait-! We can...! Uhm... Just not there!" "Oh? Are you going to...maybe tell me now?" He really isn't giving up is he? "Okay fine! I'll admit, maybe I...do like someone but that's it...! Please just nohot there!" "You're already giggling out of nervousness...!" "Yohou're too clohose!" His junior was giggling a storm! He wasn't even touching him just yet! "Well, I'm hearing no names so I have no choice, I'm hurt Adonis-kun!" "W-Wahait-but-but I already admIHI- NOHOHO ACK--! WAIT NOHOHOT THEHEHERE-!! NOT THEHEHEHERE!!" The younger started to squirm so much that his hair was disheveled and his face was beet red. Rei couldn't see it since he was facing his back but he could see his ears tinting red and his words jumbling up. He switched his technique from squeezing to kneading and--

"EEHEHEK-! NOHO NOT LIKE- EHEEHEK- SAAHAHAKU-!! AHAHAHAHAHAHA-!! OKAY! OKAHAHAY!!" "Hm? Okay?" "IHI'LL TEHELL YOU JUS-- EEHEHE NOHOOHO!!" Adonis just lost it and started pounding his fists on the ground and flailed around so much he couldn't control himself anymore. Tears were rolling down his eyes and his laughter softened up, he reached his limit. Rei stopped and started to give his head a little rub to calm him down "Ah woops-! I didn't mean to take it too far this time. I'm sorry Adonis-kun." He softened his expression before turning to his junior "you don't actually have to tell me, it's just a small tease since I didn't think you'd actually fall for someone right n--" "It's Kanzaki". He actually gave his name!? Rei was so shocked that he couldn't help but keep his mouth open a bit, not realizing that he embarrassed his junior even more as he covered his face and tried to rush away. "AH! Ah ah ah! Wait nono! I didn't mean anything bad by it! It's just that I was surprised! He's the one from AKATSUKI correct? Samurai?" "Yeah..." "I know he's one of your trusted friends so I think it's pretty nice that you ended up liking him out of all people." For some reason, those words comforted him than anything. Adonis couldn't help but turn his gaze over to his senior with a slight blush on his cheeks. "I mean, Kaoru and I mainly joke about being partners with a fan or some lady but, I consider you to be lucky that your first crush is someone you trust! Don't you think so too?" He ruffled his messy hair even more and looked at him with a gentle smile "I didn't want to pry but it looked too cute. Say, you should be like this more often." "If it doesn't include you tiring me out like this then maybe I'd consider it." "Well it was your fault for it anyway!" They ended up talking in the practice room far longer than they expected. It was a refreshing to finally get it off his chest and at least talk about it with someone. Even if it's just a small crush at it's purest form of innocence, he was still happy to know that the experience was normal and that he gets to share a moment with his senior.

A/N: I'm having a difficult time writing the requests right now since even if I have a scenario, it's pretty difficult to execute them! I'll do my best to fulfill them but in the meantime I hope y'all enjoyed this one cause I had fun writing it the most <3.

It's a little more intense than usual and it's something out of my comfort zone but, it was so fun to write that even I got myself thinking about it ^^"

[strawhatsoraya]

yess it went well! I even went to uni today because nothing can stop me hahaha~

I'm glad to hear that it helped you through a rough time <3 it's always great if a piece of media becomes something that is comforting and special to you!

my sister has been on my neck to get through it for months now 😂 I'm still slowly building up the emotional courage but I'll have to time it right so it doesn't coincide with exam period or smth because I do NOT need to be a wreck then... It's easy for her cause she's been keeping up with it for over 5 years now, it's old wounds for her but I didn't expect to fall so in love with Ace when I started OP 😭

but thank you for the offer, I'll definitely drop by to bawl in your inbox :3

- 🍥

LOL you sound like me. I went to work a week after surgery too. Are you enjoying Uni? I oddly miss my student days sometimes.

Oh yes maybe do it after exams or during a break then. Can't have you sobbing into your class notes.

[binniesthighs]

dear anon, sweet anon, thank you so much for requesting this <3 i didn’t know that i needed it in my life and now...here it is;) IT WAS SO FUN hehe

melt in your mouth | reader x jisung

Pairing: self insert, gender neutral reader x han jisung 

Genre: that good good smut 

Summary: After hearing a rather interesting story about a certain brand of chocolate aphrodisiacs, your curiosity gets the best of you and your friend’s roommate, Jisung.....a spin off of bites like bittersweet

Word count: 3.7k 

*photocreds to OP!

{see below for tags, nsfw and warnings!} 

Tags: aphrodisiac au, somewhat friends to lovers, hints of mutual pining, bestfriend!seungmin, seungmin’sroommate!jisung, hardswitch!jisung, hardswitch!reader, explicit language, mentions of food/eating, hand stuff (r &m), degredation, petnames, dirty talk, unprotected sex (stay safe cuties), creampie, voyeurism, and we love a plot twist ;)  

~💋~

two flavors seemed excessive. one flavor seemed like just enough. you didn’t want to break the bank or anything on something that was likely crappy quality or potentially psychedelic; even worse, it could be both. 

“and you want to try these with me why?” seungmin pushed his wire-framed glasses up his nose bridge and scrunched it up. he inspected the paper wrapper with a skeptical glare. the design itself was anything but trustworthy: in swirly cursive pink font, the name Cherri Amore and under it, a absurdly large lipstick mark with the outline of a couple doing what must have been fucking “spread eagle.” 

seungmin muttered, leaning over the counter of the dingy kitchen he shared with his roommates, “proven aphrodiasiac and libido booster...? y/n, sorry, i just--i’m fucking lost here--” 

“--ever heard of trying something for the hell of it seung??” you snatched the bar from his hand. “the review that i read online said that it made them crazy fucking horny, so much so that they fucked their best friend of something like five years or something like that. isn’t that insane?!” 

your best friend’s eyes blew out with his mouth aghast, “what the hell?? shit--of course you’d find something insane on the internet like this and drag me into it...”  

in your incredulous laugher, you threw your neck back so hard it hurt a little. “loosen up! it’s probably a scam or something. plus...if it does work on us...don’t act like i haven’t caught you in the act before...” 

seungmin, ever the angel, flushed a shade of fuchsia you thought inhumanly possible for someone to attempt. “that-that wasn’t--that wasn’t what you thought it was!!!” he cast away the chocolate bar as if it were his dick on the very night that you had walked in on something that was supposedly not what it looked like. 

“relax!” you punched your embarrassed friend on the arm which he dramatically rubbed into. “it’s not a sin to jerk off or anything. hell, i do it....obviously.” 

seungmin chuckled out unsteadily, “well, um, what if it does work then, what do we do?” 

you snickered, “ha! hell if i know. cross that bridge when we get there?” 

“so what you’re saying is...this could either be a massive waste of our time, or, both of us get so stupidly turned on that we decide to have sex....with eachother?” 

“that’s the gist i’m getting.” you took to the corner of the shiny pink paper wrapping at the corner. “but...who said that we had to fuck or anything...?” 

from fuchsia to nearly scarlet, seungmin averted his eyes at the speed of light. 

“seung!!! do you have something to tell me?!” your teasing grin spread wide and you lifted your hand to give your adorable friend a clap on the back. 

“i’m just repeating what you said!!” 

you broke the bar open, cracking off the first square on the counter with a solid snap. with a smirk, you offered it to your friend. he reached out, only to nearly jump out of his skin when the old-timey ringtone from his phone erupted in the hollow kitchen. 

“shit.” he murmured under his breath, pulling it out and immediately pressing the call button upon seeing the caller. “h-hello? yeah? wait, wait...slow down...the cultures did what?! and you have to start over?? shit--” 

before you could have anything to do with it, your friend was already throwing on his sneakers and sky blue raincoat. “sorry, y/n but i have to go. that was my co-worker, they said that something went bad with the incubator, and all of the cultures are ruined, and there’s the stupid lab meeting in the morning--” 

“i’m gonna pretend that i understood everything you said.” you hung at the doorway to the kitchen, observing him trip over pairs of shoes and other random-ass college-aged boy items. “you only get a pass because i have a feeling that the coworker we’re talking about here is the cute one.” 

your friend rolled his eyes, mouthing a reluctant, “yes.” 

“fine then. we can try the chocolates another time.” 

“fine--sure--” seungmin grabbed for the handle, “sorry. again.” 

~💋~

you felt like the chocolate bar was taunting you, just sitting there opened with two squares all ready for the eating. oddly, you really couldn’t figure out exactly why you had wanted to try them in the first place. for a second, the guilt and loneliness started to seep through and it felt sticky, pathetic, and stung like thorns right into your breaths. 

“fuck it.” you whispered under your breath, swiping them all up and walking over to the trash can. 

“whatcha got there?” a voice entered the room attached to one of seungmin’s roommates, jisung. 

the two of you had met many times in passing, and you had shared enough small talk to consider him somewhat of an acquaintance. from what you had gathered about the boy, he spent much too much time in his room working on his animations and was the dictionary definition of one of those cocky-assholes you had a soft spot for. 

“jisung--hey. it’s...it’s nothing. something stupid that i blew my money on.” 

“let me see.” he crossed the room, looking wired and overtired as usual. 

from staring at his screen for so long his eyes bagged with dark circles, but somehow it made him look mischievous, or something like that. his muscle tank had been cut low to reveal his sides and ribs which flared when he grabbed for the bar of chocolate. 

“huh.” he scoffed, “i’ve seen like, infomercials for these things. you were going to try it?” 

“yeah...i-i mean--no...i was.” 

“what’s stopping you? not curious anymore?” 

“window of opportunity passed.” 

“i don’t think so.” he grinned, matter of a fact. “i like chocolate.” 

you couldn’t quite believe what was being said to you at first. jisung, the boy that you barely knew, was standing there with his goofy heart-shaped smile and all, holding libido boosters and asking you to take them with him. 

“you do know what those are, right? what they could do?” 

immediately, he popped one in his mouth, nearly like it was a challenge. “empahsis on the “could.”” 

he held them closer to you, prompting you to take the remaining square which was flecked with little red hard-candy looking bits. 

“fine then. you’re right. what they could do.” you downed the candy, crunching it and finding that the quality was certainly not a guarantee. the thing itself tasted halfway between a tootsie roll and cold medicine. “fuck.” 

jisung laughed, throwing the rest of the bar away.

“what did you that for?” 

“i’m guessing whether they work or not, you might not need them anymore.” 

your friend’s roommate slicked his hair back, and ruffled it over his dark eyes. his face was slightly puffed with exhaustion, but it didn’t make him any less handsome. 

“so we wait now?” you asked, glancing at the clock. 

“wanna order some food or something?” he smacked his lips, “i need a fucking chaser after that.” 

~💋~

you didn’t know what time it was; late, probably. after a couple hours of realizing that nothing was really going to happen to you or your friend’s roommate, you had decided to stop expecting it. although, you had kind of hoped...

the sofa that the boys shared was just about as comfortable as you had remembered it. it was large enough to hold you and seungmin’s two roommates on better days, but, once again, random-ass college-boy stuff cluttered at least half of it. it was one of those “dumpster finds” and kind of smelled like a grandma’s house, but honestly, that was what made it so comfortable. 

the tv carried on, playing some kind of animated movie that jisung had chosen claiming that the director was some kind of “god of animation and storytelling.” you liked the colors, but soon you felt yourself being lulled and drowsy: your head felt heavy simply resting on your shoulders. 

your eyelids fogged, and the sounds from the tv set started to fade into inexistence. beside you, jisung had crossed his arms, but the lack of space had pressed both of your thighs together, and the warmth from his leg started to wash over your drowsy state. your head bobbed, swayed...then fell, directly onto his shoulder. had you been more lucid, you would have cared more. 

“oh--” he jumped slightly, and shifted awkwardly. 

the room darkened and soon all you could see was the thin line of light that your half-open eyes allowed. 

“this-this can’t be comfortable for you.” jisung hushed and clicked the tv off. “hey, you should be heading to bed anyway, it’s late.” 

“are you kicking me out, jisung?” you babbled, not really aware of your own words. 

your friend’s roommate chuckled, straightening his posture to support you. “i’m not gonna make you walk back to your place at this time of night.” 

“it’s only a couple of blocks--” 

“--you’ve slept over here before, haven’t you?” 

you stretched out your arms with a little squeak.

“yeah. on the couch.” 

“you...can’t do that. you’d have to sleep in a fucking corkscrew if you did that.” 

“yeah, i know.” you giggled, now finding yourself in a kind of stupor that made you wonder if the chocolates really were doing their job. “i’ll just take seung’s bed then--” 

“--he’s! not back...yet.” jisung hugged his arms to himself. “i dunno, shouldn’t he have his bed when he comes back?” he cleared his throat, composing himself. “of course, there’s space in my bed if you’d like.” 

“me? sleep with you?” 

“yes, with me.” just as he had before, that little challenging edge coated his tone, “only if you’re comfortable i mean. i guess that i’m forgetting that the most that the two of us have shared yet is some wack-ass chocolate so, i shouldn’t be making any assumptions.” 

“no, no!” you pounced off from the couch, reaching high to the ceiling to stretch out your sore back next. and, perhaps to let your shirt tuck up just a little bit as you did so. “i don’t have a problem with it.” 

jisung nodded, grinning in the half-lit room, cleaning away to-go boxes. you had noticed before, but the way that his triceps tensed when he moved around was really just a little too distracting. 

“you can head on in, but--be quieter about it. jeongin is sleeping in here.” 

you clicked off a sleepy salute, following the hall down exactly where you had known his room to be, but you had never entered it before. it didn’t surprise you, but it was just as messy as the rest of the place was, and you had to tip-toe around god-knows what to find your way.

after tripping on something soft and sort of damp, (which you prayed was a shower-towel) you made your way to jisung and his face illuminated by the blue-glow of his phone screen where he had immediately jumped in bed after navigating through the room much more skillfully than you had.  

“you have an issue if i sleep in my underwear?” you asked, realizing. 

jisung paused, wide eyed, but quickly fell back into his casual and cocky smirk. “i mean, that’s basically what i’m doing so...”  

“scooch over. i hope you’re not a blanket hogger or anything.” 

the bed was already pleasantly warm from jisung having occupied it. it would have felt amazing if you had been as tired as you had been moments ago, but now your entire body felt horribly wide-awake. 

“--and if you start to snore, i’m leaving you for the couch, got it?” 

jisung let out an airy laugh, shifting and creaking the bed a bit under him, “i don’t snore...for your information.” 

with the blankets pulled up to your nose, you turned to lay on your back, eyes finally adjusting to the darkness of the room. above you, the faint green glow of glow-in-the-dark stars sprinkled across the ceiling, making up constellations: from what you could make out, the big dipper was above jisung’s bed, and the little one was above jeongin’s, who peacefully slept with tiny breaths. 

jisung rolled to the side, accidently brushing his bare leg against yours. 

“night, y/n. sorry the chocolates didn’t work out. would’ve been kind of hilarious if they did.” 

“psh.” you rolled over too, closing your eyes, “you saying you would’ve taken up the opportunity to get in my pants?” 

“guess we’ll never know.” he sighed. 

~💋~

birds chirped, signaling the coming sunrise what was nearly breaking upon the horizon, and filled with deep blue sky with a type of orange-glow. the room was dim and stuffy, and noticeably much hotter than you remembered it being before. over the course of the night, you had tangled your legs with the sheets, finding them trapping you between them, and you shuffled to escape them and feel the air hit your skin. they shifted, letting you feeling the sticky mess between your legs. 

“what the--” the aching and heated desire made itself painfully obvious, soaking directly through your underwear, making a wet mess of them where you throbbed with an utterly unexplainable arousal that reverberated in your core. 

the friction from your legs only heightened the sensation, and you found yourself unwillingly rutting down into the mattress just to feel an ounce of relief. 

fuck, the chocolates, you recalled. while you had expected to feel something from them, this was twenty times more intense than anything you could have planned for. 

you were like an animal in heat, vulnerable, weak, dazed. your body set ablaze, and it only made sense to strip of any and all clothing that held you back. in your own desperation, you had completely forgotten about the man resting next to you. 

“y/n? what's--what are you doing?” jisung groggily croaked in a tone several octaves lower than you were accustomed to. your brain could only calculate it is as downright, unbelievably sexy. 

“jisung, i’m fucking burning up, an-and, i think i’m finally feeling something....are you?” 

he hadn’t noticed it at first until he did, but from where he could see where the blanket dipped all the way down to your waist, you were completely bare. with fluttering eyes, he gulped down dry. you noticed the way that he took you all in, looking at every inch of you. you reveled in how he greedily and shamelessly didn’t stop. 

under the covers, his own legs twisted. 

“me too.” he answered gravely, speaking with a low whisper.  

carefully, his tentative touch advanced under the covers, slowly reaching to your bare hip, where he settled a testing caress, squeezing harder, then cascaded down the small of your back to make you shiver. your own hand did the same, instead finding his leg and creeping your hand up and under his shirt. little space existed between the two of you, and only the panting of your heavy inhales and exhales could be heard. 

your eyes glued to his, beautifully brown and dilating, trembling a little while holding yours. from his light touches, it took every bit of your will to control yourself from launching over him. jisung’s hand fell lower, and toyed with the elastic band of your underwear which had started to feel painfully confining. each of your own fingers traveled up his torso, brushing over his chest which made his whole body shake. 

“sh-shit, i’m so fucking--” jisung started, dropping off his words to let out a wavering sigh. you didn’t need to guess any further. 

jisung slid two fingers under your elastic band, and it became too much to handle. 

“please, touch me jisung.” you whined out pitifully, clawing directly into the soft muscles of his back. 

you were shocked how quickly he had given into you, immediately crashing his lips against yours first, then using both arms to pull you into his chest so close it stole all of your breath away. you kissed him back roughly, ravenous to feel the sensation of his mouth against your own. he growled out a small groan directly into your lips, sloppily working every single corner and edge of your mouth with a devilish smile curling his own. 

lower, both of your hips met flush, grinding and twisting to create the kind of pressure that the both of you craved. limbs twisted, sweating and heated skin mingled, and you could feel every bit of his hardened cock right against your own arousal and how his shaft throbbed helplessly. 

“you taste so good.” he murmured between haphazard kisses, letting his low tone vibrate against you. 

“take these off.” you ordered, tugging at his boxers, nearly taking them off yourself. 

“take yours off.” he echoed, and you did. 

curious hands plunged deeper, delighting fingers in the slick of the other’s cum. 

“fuck.” jisung dragged the explicative over your lip where he lapped lazily into you. “don’t stop.” 

you gave him a moment’s pause, stopping to wet your palm with saliva, then met it with his cock. you worked his length with the sharp and twisting turn of your wrist, causing him to whimper out shamelessly. 

“shhh.” you hissed, pulling his lip with our teeth, “don’t want to wake up your roommate do we?” 

he nodded, biting each and every tantalizing little sound into his lip instead. your own breaths grew shallow feeling the pressure from his hand between your legs and how he had grabbed into your thigh to swing it over his hip for better access. 

“wouldn’t you like me to fuck you out, baby? fuck you like the good little cock whore that you are for me? i’ve seen the way that you look...you’ve wanted this...haven’t you?” jisung’s words were slick and luxurious despite their bite.  

to suppress the begging moan in your throat, you cupped your hand over your mouth, and pressed hard into it. 

the blanket tented from your pulling at his cock and how you rubbed over his slit: it was an ethereal sight even in the blurriness of the room. 

slowly, you leaned over to his ear, waist rocking back and forth over the sensation of his hand rubbing into you relentlessly. “don’t lie baby, you want my ass bouncing on your cock...don’t you?” 

in one movement, he swept his full body weight over yours and harshly pulled your legs back to open your entrance just for him to tease with his tip. he guided himself in slowly and meticulously, bottoming out once you had sunk your fingers into his shoulders to manage some of the screams you would have let out otherwise. 

“fuck yes, baby.” jisung growled, finding an animalistic pace that burned your whole body with white flames of pleasure. 

you grew impatient wondering furiously what his cute little pouty cheeks would look like when you fucked him from above, riding his dick. you wouldn’t wait any further, taking your grasp on his shoulders to then flip him, settling your hips over his dick which you pounced on to the tune of one of his moans slipping past, loud and guttural. 

“shut. the fuck. up.” you scolded him, throwing your hand over his pretty mouth. he whimpered out once again, eyes rolling feeling the tip of his dick reach as deeply inside of you as you would let it.  “cum inside me sungie, i won’t stop until I have every last drop.” 

jisung nodded, chest flaring as his breaths quickened. 

“cum for me baby, and i’ll cum for you...got it?” your breathy whispers scratched your throat, but you needed him to hear. 

you held his eyes which glistened with two pretty little tears that fell  as he came hard, shaking with his whole body and letting each of his gleeful moans come spiraling into your hand. 

your own heat came surging, right at your core, growing....growing...

a lamplight flashed on. 

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? WHAT THE--WHAT THE--” 

jeongin threw his sheets over his eyes, while shuddering. “I WAS FUCKING SLEEPING!!” 

his shrill scream sent you jumping out of your lust, and you scrambled off jisung’s throbbing and pink cock, and forgetting the force of gravity, which sent his cum dripping out from inside of you. in your panic, you grabbed at anything to cover up your body and his, only to get so tangled that you lost your balance on the edge of the bed and.....

~💋~

THUMP 

your body hit the wooden floor of jisung and jeongin’s room, right on your butt where you knew that it would be hurting for weeks. 

as disoriented as you were, it took you a good few minutes to realize what had actually just happened. 

“y/n?” jisung called with his groggy half-awake, half-asleep tone. “did you just fall out of the bed?” 

on the opposite side of the room, you whipped your head over to see jeongin still peacefully sleeping with his back turned to jisung’s bed.

“fuck--um, yeah. i did. shit...” 

jisung chuckled in the dark room just barely peeking with the first bits of the sunrise in streaming into the room. 

“i don’t know how you did that considering i gave you plenty of space. get back up here.” 

still dazed and brain overheating, you could have sworn you felt the little aftershocks of the orgasm that felt so real still coursing through your body. 

you felt it too: the way that your underwear had slicked. some part of it all must’ve been real. 

“jisung--” you started, not even sure if you wanted to tell him in the first place. “are you certain that you didn’t feel anything?” 

jisung turned to face you and shook his head, “no, you?” 

you hesitated, holding his eyes to see that he must have been telling the truth. 

“i just...i just had this insane dream...” 

“dream? about what?” 

“it’s hard to explain...” you trailed. 

“you look kind of shaken up, are you sure that you’re okay?” jisung extended a careful hand, and smoothed down the side of your face in the way that had felt frighteningly real only seconds ago. his hand lingered, falling down your neck and giving you goosebumps. your eyes fell to his lips, and you wondered if they would taste like you had imagined them to be. 

you leaned in closer, closing the gap. 

“it went something like this.” 

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses! 

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @lunarskzzz  @yourdaddychan @bubblelixie @spnobsessedmemes @cherrychngkyn @iwanttobangchan @bowlofblueberries @lmhmins @eunaeiekim

[shotorozu]

Bakugo, Shinsou, Sero, and Hawks with a fem!s/o that has galaxy eyes. She has purple-blue eyes with star patterns and constellations in them that changes when she blinks, doesn’t blush red instead her skin gets these star freckles and dust on her face and ears when flustered, and if she ever cries, her tears are hella sparkly. If she has a quirk, her quirk allows her to use Moondust which is like a sleeping powder depending on the amount but she likes to use it to help others sleep and relax (she can even make them into tea and powdered sugar for treats)

having a galactic s/o

characters : bakugou katsuki, shinsou hitoshi, hanta sero, hawks | keigo takami

legend : [Y/N = your name] f!reader at the request of anon, i don’t know what to name this quirk, so i’ll just call it moondust

fic type : headcanons [fluff]

notes : you’re very creative anon :)) i like your thinking (also im sorry if i dont know how to write sero, i’ve only wrote him 2-3 times so far)

≿————-　❈　————-≾

bakugou katsuki

what is this sorcery.??

the first time he sees you, he’ll be mesmerized

i mean.. you stick out. you have literal stars and constellations in your eyes

you know how he has a nickname for everyone in class 1-A? well—

he literally can’t think of a bad nickname for you, because you’re so beautiful, and your quirk is too.

so he just sticks with dumbass

when you talk to him, he’ll always be staring at your eyes because they literally change from lilac to violet everytime you blink

like.. how is that possible? excuse you, bakugou literally has red eyes

kinda thinks you’re op ngl— even though your quirk is oddly similar to midnight sensei

but when you blush,,

you’re the prettiest person alive omg, how do you look like that everyday??

so because of this, he’ll always try to make you blush

he hates seeing you cry but your tears make it hard not to hate it

they’re so sparkly

like.. they’re so pretty wtf, you’re like a renaissance painting.

will make you train with him, because he wants to beat you at least once in his life

but it doesn’t happen immediately lol

shinsou hitoshi

again, what is this sorcery

will feel self conscious because.. how did he manage to catch such a pretty s/o?

also another person that always has his attention on your eyes since they change colors every time you blink

and the constellations, WOW (spends every moment looking at each constellation whenever you blink)

the first time he made you blush— he was in awe

wtf you’re even prettier

and that one time you ate a spicy noodle packet, and started crying— he realized that your tears sparkle

he hates seeing you cry but 😳 your tears

“do i even deserve her??”

yes you do hitoshi.

anyway— your quirk fascinates him, and if he didn’t know better, he’d assume your midnight sensei’s daughter

training with him is fun, since it’s not very combat based.

but!! since you can make tea out of your quirk, you’re practically a tea maker for shinsou

because homeboy can’t sleep, but thanks to you— he can finally catch a few hours

hawks | takami keigo

will verbally comment on how pretty your eyes are

“woah, your eyes are pretty.” it’s not subtle at all

just accept the compliment

the first time he made you blush, he was also very amazed.

and the first time you cried your sparkly tears, he was even more amazed.

is that even possible?? wow.. how can someone look that pretty

will call you his lil stardust.

your quirk reminded him of the UA teacher, and he will ask if you guys are related

“no keigo, people can have similar quirks and not be related”

“of course i knew that!”

keigo is very stressed because of hero work, and because of that— he barely gets a wink of sleep

so when he comes back to your apartment, and you suddenly sprinkle moondust on him

he’ll be like :000 this helps with my workaholic tendencies

he doesn’t want to look like he’s using you. if you’re dating him, then that says you mean a lot to him

your moondust tea puts him to sleep right away. just don’t use it when he’s carrying you up in the sky

hanta sero

he’s pretty chill overall

but!!

👁👁 he’ll stare at you when he sees you for the first time. like.. wow, they’re really, really pretty

the bakusquad will tease him about it for sure.

this boy will probably name all the constellations in your eyes everytime you blink

he can’t always do that but.. you get what i mean

“cassiopeia!”

“sero, how the hell can you see her from a far.”

he means well :))

will comfort you when you cry, but he’ll be thinking to himself “wow! she’s pretty when she cries- wait! is that a bad thing to be thinking of? i don’t want her to be sad.”

sero the latino king— will call you mi estrella

“you look beautiful as always, mi estrella”

it always makes you flustered! and speaking of flustered..

your blush makes you look extraterrestrial

and if your face gets really blushed up when you cry- it’ll knock him out

your quirk really reminds him of midnight sensei’s— so will he be amazed, yet cautious? yes.

you’re also quite op to him. and if you’re worried that he’s afraid of you— then don’t worry about that

he knows you won’t hurt him :))

the tea aspect of your quirk fills him with curiosity

“i wonder what it tastes like..”

“wanna try it out?”

“i mean- can i??”

“sure!”

will probably get drunk on moondust tea

≿————-　❈　————-≾

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei. i only own the writing

do not plagiarize my work :))

[palaceofpassion]

After arriving in Atlas, meeting Penny and her father then arrested Illia was worried. Then scared during the meeting with Ironwood he brought up a warrant that was placed on her last time she was an Atlas. Jaune placed himself between her and the Ace Ops, arguing in her defense. Oddly Weiss did the same. After some discussion it was decided that she would wear a tracking bracelet but otherwise we remain free. Before turning in Illia thanked Weiss but also ask her why? The weren't close at all.

"Arrest her!"

Today was not Ilia's day, she couldn't believe how many things had happened at once. From stealing an Airship just yesterday, to arriving in Atlas, to their robot? friend being alive! To then getting arrested by the Aceops, and now she was about to get arrested again and thrown into the Atlas slammer.

She knew that coming here was a bad idea. And now she had no where to run! Yet, even in her most harrowing of moments, her heart steeled itself with resolve. All because she had her best friend by her side. Jaune had quickly gotten in front of her, ready to defend her if need be.

"She's with us, she's not with the Fang anymore, and she helped with removing them."

Ironwood gave her a glance, one that chilled her to the very bone, the stare of a madman already on the edge. "Be that as it may. She's still a danger. We will keep her locked up till we can confirm that it's safe."

Then a voice she hadn't expected cut through the the following silence. "That shouldn't be necessary."

Weiss Schnee, of all people, stood besides Jaune, giving him a quick tap on the shoulder.

Ilia's eyes narrowed for a moment at the sudden sign of affection.

"Ilia's been through a lot with us already. She's aware of everything going on, including Salem. And yet she's stood by us instead of running away."

"That doesn't-"

To everyone's surprise, especially Winter's, Weiss didn't let him finish. "General, we could really use all the help we can in times like this. And having Ilia by our side would send a good message."

"She's got a great Semblance for espionage." Jaune chimed in, "And she's a trained combatant."

The bunny looking short woman chose to butt in, "You can't expect us to let this animal in here! Who knows what hse'll do."

"Alright."

"What!?"

Ironwood finally spoke, "I can see... that you are telling me the truth."

He took a step forward, and Ilia nearly took one back, "But there are going to be some caveats. One she will wear a bracelet tracker. She is free to go anywhere she wishes. However, we will know of her whereabouts."

Jaune didn't like this answer stepping forward only to be stopped as Weiss grabbed his hand, "What if it's booby trapped."

"General, I feel that's a bit over the line, isn't it?"

"Considering our situation? I think not. But you have my word, it is a tracker and only a tracker. I'll have Doctor Polendina handle it, as I believe you'd be more comfortable trusting him?"

Penny, thankfully chimed in, "I can vouch for the tech! Father would never do anything to harm a customer or someone in need."

"It'll only be on for the next week, I promise once things are sorted out, then we'll let her be for free."

Finally Jaune's stance lightened, "Thank you sir."

"No, thank you all. Having you here is... it's reassuring."

The bunny girl didn't seem to like that answer, as she stormed off fuming.

The larger woman seemed to shrug, giving Jaune a quick wink.

To Ilia's surprise, Weiss seemed to slightly growl at that.

Now she was getting suspicious.

Eventually they adjourned, Ilia would be bunking with Jaune and his team, as his partner.

Though before they all separated she needed to clear the air.

"Sch... Weiss, can I talk to you?"

Weiss seemed to hesitate for a moment.

"Yes."

But she eventually agreed.

"Why did you help me?"

Weiss bit her bottom lip, thinking about it herself.

"Because... because you've been there for Jaune, when none of us have... I... no we owe you that much at least. And... I suppose being as envious as I am, I wouldn't want to lose due to a technicality."

She gave no further answers simply turning around and leaving.

"Wait what?!"

[trashytoastboi]

Can you please do a headcanon about what a platonic relationship (like mother and son) between Law and Corazon's S/O would look like, before and after Corazon's death?

I love so much how you write

Heyya!🍀 sure thing! And thank you so much!🥺

Hope you enjoy~

(Gender Neutral)

Headcanons: Platonic/Parental relationship between Law and Corazon's S/O – Before and after his death.

Warning: Angst, mentions of death, trauma

🍄Trafalgar Law🍄 & ❤Corazon (Rosinante)❤

❤🍄Before Death🍄❤

🍄❤{Name} is definitely someone very important in Corazon's life, as is Law, and being close to him meant Corazon eventually wanted the two to get to know one another, but up until this point the two still had yet to meet. Corazon seemed really excited for them to meet, nervous but mostly thrilled at the potential prospect of having two of the closest people in his life together.

🍄❤Law truthfully felt pessimistic and annoyed not necessarily at {Name} but rather due to his anxiousness. Walking into the den of infamous pirates while strapped full of grenades seemed less daunting than meeting Corazon's partner.

🍄❤When the two finally met, {Name} was incredibly friendly and exuded a very calm, almost comforting feeling about them that settled Law. He oddly found himself gravitating towards {Name}. It was rare that he felt at peace and somehow {Name} had that kind of feeling, they reminded him of Corazon but definitely different in their own nature, Law actually felt comforted by the fact that {Name} was the more logical one in the couple.

🍄❤In contrast to Law 's nervousness, {Name} was surprisingly calm about meeting Law, no doubt there was worry such as “What if he doesn't like me”, {Name} could instantly see why Corazon had taken such a liking to Law. He was so tiny in comparison to Corazon though and it caused the flashback at when Cora had been absolutely tormenting himself over the fact that he threw the small boy from the window. In terms of his appearance, Law looked like a very morbid boy, if seen in the wrong lighting one could even mistake him for a ghoul. However {Name} found him quirky and had the feeling that he hid much more to him. Without second thought {Name} was very warm and welcoming to him.

🍄❤It become very common for the three of them to be together whenever possible and often times they couldn't do elaborate outings. Most times it was just simple little things like picnics but they always had fun together. While Law would really enjoy and appreciate the company he did feel a little nostalgic and sad, unintentionally reminding him of his family.

🍄❤{Name} and Corazon always had such a strong protective streak when it came to Law and the three had been mistaken for a family multiple times, albeit a very peculiar one but a family none the less. It got{Name} and Corazon thinking, things that were usually those little dreams that they shared between the two of them actually became an idea for reality. Things like taking Law, leaving the Donquixote family and living a somewhat quiet and normal life.

🍄❤After Death❤🍄

🍄❤The plan was dangerous, yet simple. Corazon would get the Ope Ope no Mi to cure Law, he would call {Name} and {Name} would be at the meeting spot with a boat waiting for Corazon and Law before setting sail and finding that quiet life. Their Den Den Mushi rang, {Name} was happy and expecting to hear the good news that they were on their way. What they heard... was Corazon speaking, they heard Doflamingo. Corazon was staying things and they knew who it was directed at, gunshots rang out and were so loud and deafening, then suddenly silence. {Name} dropped to their knees, the call was the furthest thing from good news and a few moments later {Name} heard a strained voice arising on the other side, it was Corazon saying goodbye and apologising, as well as entrusting Law to {Name} and telling them to look after themselves.

🍄❤{Name} was absolutely frozen, stunned and wanting to sob, cry, scream...yet they couldn't. Things still needed to be done and crying would have to wait. Especially because {Name} didn't want the last thing Corazon heard to be them crying, they put on their happiest voice telling him how much they love him and on the other end, there was no reply.

🍄❤Wasting no time, {Name} went searching for Law and searching until their attention was drawn by the sound of wailing, they followed it and found Law aimlessly trekking in the snow, sobbing hysterically and out of his wits, unable to comprehend nor accept what's happened, {Name's} heart broke at the sight of the boy. They ran to him, wrapping their arms over his small, trembling figure in a tight embrace, all of their grief, woe and pain was pushed down as they tried to console him and it proved impossible but they could try.

🍄❤After remaining in the snow for a while, {Name} scooped him up into their arms, feeling his fever rising and the evidence that he was still in the worst throes of his disease proved very dangerous to stay out any longer. They were so worried, it almost broke them into their own crying fit but {Name} sucked it up, making their way to the small house that Corazon had kept for them, to the place that was intended for them to live together.

🍄❤{Name} was treating Law and trying to comfort him, but he lost interest in everything. Eating, drinking, even living, he simply laid in bed almost comatose and staring into space. With {Name's} gentle nudging and insistence he would take his medicine, occasionally have a bite or two of food and fell right back into bed straight after. Law tried to dissociate himself from the trauma, he never wanted to get attached to anyone again. He never wanted to experience the way he felt in Flevance ever again and yet here he was. If not feeling bad already he riddled himself with guilt.

🍄❤While slowly working his way through things, Law would get so angry at everything, he hurled accusations at {Name} asking if they ever cared for Corazon, stating that it was if they never cared for nor loved the man. Referring to the fact that he never saw them cry, nor mourn nor blame him for the loss. How could they have cared for him if they never once got upset that he was gone and instead looked after him as if Corazon never existed.

🍄❤When Law finally looked back at {Name} he saw the tears running their face, Law suddenly realized the weight of his words “Law, I know you blame yourself. You say I never cared for him, nor loved him and you ask me why I don't blame you. It was never your fault, I can't blame you for something that was no fault of yours. Rosinante meant the world to me and I miss him everyday, sometimes I cry more than you can imagine. I just don't want you to see it...You give me a reason to smile, a reason to stay strong and I know that Rosinante would never have wanted us to stay sad. ”

🍄❤After that moment there was a weight shifting in Law, ever since then Law allowed himself to get a little closer to {Name}, a little more trusting, as well as apologising for everything he said. {Name} tried to the best of their ability to allow Law to live a normal life, the life that Corazon had intended for them. Though Law could be caught giving into his thoughts, plaguing himself with guilt and blaming himself for Corazon's death. It took him a very long time before he was able to convince himself otherwise. The creeping and intrusive thoughts always affected Law, sometimes gave him nightmares. {Name} could always recognise it and would often help, their nature proved comforting and calming enough to keep the thoughts at bay. Law eventually felt secured enough to call {Name} family.

[sixeyesgojo]

Heyy,LEMME STATE THIS FIRST,UR ONE OF THE BEST WRITERS OUT THERE N ALSO ONE OF MT FAVS.NO CAP DETECTED.😩😩 They make my day better istg. So I have some headcanons request and it's totally fine if u can't do it so no pressure 😌,basically Gojo's OC is OP asf,tall(almost as him because I'm a tall person and I rarely have seen tall S/O]confident,got money,is attractive,overall the baddest bitch and is very intimidating and feared but famous,[ and ehem very bold and not shy basically flirts back and rarely gets flustered] but she isn't perfect as her past is fucked up and sad and I gave the S/O details because I've been finding headcanons of Gojo with an S/O and I can't find it and I miss him too much but once again no pressure,I adore your works

Take care <3

❤️

Gojo with a tall s/o

A/N: Thank you so much for your kind words, anon! Sorry for replying so late & I hope you don't mind me foregoing the money aspect because I seriously didn't know what to make of it. Here's a present from me to you on this special day! <3 Enjoy your meal <3

He’s a little surprised. He doesn’t have to look down in order to make eye contact with you as he talks to you. It’s an odd feeling of excitement. Finally someone who’s not a shrimp!

But please don’t wear heels, he still wants to be at least a little taller than you

The reason? Despite you being tall, he likes teasing you that he is taller

But that’s not the only thing you hide! You’re also strong and more than just capable of protecting other people. That’s a good thing because then he doesn’t have to worry about protecting others while fighting a curse… as long as you’re with him, that is.

He knows his students and protegés are safe with you as they can be.

Gojo is also oddly drawn to you being feared by curse users and curses alike. Yes, the two of you definitely forewent the protocol to exorcise curses on sight in order to scare them away (followed by your and his roaring laughter) at least three times.

Those are probably his fondest memories in recent years.

It’s not like anyone can say anything either. After all, you’re THAT duo. Everyone knows you.

Everyone may know you but not everyone truly understands your past as well as he does. He’s quick to comfort you when you fall down that spiral.

Moreover, he loves your boldness and the way you never get flustered by his flirtatious advances

“Looking good today, Y/N,” he says and pulls down the shades he’s wearing to wink at you. “Thanks but I think you look scrumptious, I almost wanna take a bite.”

That catches him off guard at first but he’s quick to recompose himself.

The students definitely made up a shipname for the two of you!

They even ask you two when the wedding is whenever you two flirt lmao

[refinedbuffoonery]

Broken Like Me (1)

masterlist.

THIS FIC IS NOT INTENDED FOR READERS UNDER THE AGE OF 18. Please see the masterlist for content warnings. 

Here it is, the long-awaited dark!MacRiley AU! First, I want to thank my lovely beta readers and my life-saving brainstorming/workshop buddy. You all know who you are. ❤

This fic adheres to canon through 5x05 and then goes off the fucking rails. Backstory and other important tidbits of information revealed in the latter half of season 5 may be used, but timeline-wise anything after 5x05 does not exist in this fic. Also, Jack is dead and is staying dead, so don’t get your hopes up for a happy ending. 

I will do my best to update this regularly, but hanging out in and writing such dark headspaces is HARD. I will definitely be taking breaks to write fluffier fic, because a big chunk of this story is all hurt and no comfort. 

Without further adieu, let’s get this party started. (It’s not a party. In fact, it’s like...the opposite of a party.) 

*****

They say he was a good man. 

A good soldier. 

A good father. 

A good friend. 

They say they are sorry for her loss, sorry he was taken from this world too soon. 

They say Jack would be proud of the legacy he left behind, would be proud to have gone out in a blaze of glory. 

Riley is sick of it. 

It’s like she’s a teenager, and Jack is leaving her all over again. Only this time it’s worse. This time there’s no coming back. 

The guests at the wake gaze at the folded up American flag on the fireplace mantle with deep respect, but Riley only feels anger every time she glimpses the piece of fabric the government sent back in his place. A flag and a life insurance claim feel like a mockery of the kind of man Jack Dalton was. 

Was. Past tense. 

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

*****

Mac has never been afraid of Riley before. 

He’s seen her angry and upset, but the rage-filled woman he stopped from killing Anya Vitez with her bare hands back in Croatia is someone he does not know. 

The frightening part is that Riley isn’t a hot-headed person. In work mode, she is cold and calculating, so for her to go after Vitez like that...something inside her snapped. 

Three weeks have passed since then, and every time he looks at Riley, Mac remembers holding her back, fingers digging sharply into her waist until she stopped fighting him. He sees the fury radiating off Riley’s body like heat waves off asphalt—sees the way she clings to it, finds purpose in it, letting it consume her so there’s no room for guilt or grief. Mac knows the feeling all too well. And he also knows there will be a very loud thud when she finally comes crashing back down. 

But he also knows that the woman is like a loaded gun, safety off and desperate to fire at something. 

Which is why he worries when Matty calls them in for an op and Riley isn’t there. She’s at Vitez’s trial, Matty informs them, but that doesn’t make Mac feel any better. Whenever there’s downtime during the mission, and Mac’s mind is free to wander, he can't stop thinking about her. This new Riley is becoming obsessively vengeful, and if someone doesn’t reel her back in soon, she might do something she can’t come back from.

The thought plagues Mac every second there aren’t bullets whizzing toward his head. 

After the op, Mac drives to Riley’s apartment. Upon arrival, his ears are assaulted by Riley’s upstairs neighbor blasting Macklemore’s greatest hits. Mac hears the lyrics clear as day, even though both his truck windows and the apartment windows are closed. 

Riley really shouldn’t have moved out of Mac’s house, not if this is her best option. He still doesn’t understand why she did. 

It doesn’t take long to notice the GTO is missing. Riley should be back from the trial by now, but Mac has a sneaking suspicion where she is. 

The drive to Jack’s apartment seems to take forever. The brick building is in an older neighborhood, one of few affordable ones with trees planted along the sidewalks—a luxury in LA. Sure enough, the GTO is parked on the curb, not far from the fire escape that connects to Jack’s living room.

Looking up, Mac spies a familiar body perched on the stairs. 

Riley sits on the fire escape, soaking in the last rays of sunlight. Her eyes are closed, head resting against the brick wall. Mac doesn’t say anything as he sits beside her on the narrow metal stairs, their hips and thighs just touching. 

He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. Should he hug her? Hold her hand? Leave her alone? Riley isn’t a super touchy person. Mac decides on the latter, picking at his fingernails while his gaze drifts west to study the sunset. 

Several minutes pass before Riley says, “Hey.” Her voice is low and scratchy, like she’s been crying. 

“Hey,” Mac repeats. “How long have you been here?” 

Riley shifts beside him, sitting up. “I don’t know. A while.” 

“This isn’t the first time you’ve come here, is it?” 

A sigh. “No, it’s not.” Mac figures as much. Aside from the constant clamor of the city, Jack’s apartment is relatively quiet. It’s not in the greatest neighborhood, but it’s safe enough for Riley to sit alone and think. Or not think. Whatever she feels like doing. 

Riley rests her head on Mac’s shoulder, and a wave of protectiveness floods his system. It’s new, this need to watch her back more than the others’. It came on so gradually that Mac doesn’t know when it started or what triggered it, only that he feels it all the time now. Especially after Jack’s…

He avoids examining the feeling too closely. 

Without warning, Riley says, “If you hadn’t held me back, I would’ve killed her.” 

Knowing exactly who she was talking about, Mac glances down at Riley in surprise. He knows it’s true—thinks so himself—but hearing it come out of her mouth makes his stomach turn. The last, and only, time Riley killed someone...it took her months to piece herself back together afterward. And that death was in self-defense. 

This one would’ve been murder. Intentional and vindictive. 

Mac isn’t sure Riley could come back from that, at least not as herself. The woman who would emerge from that would be a total stranger inside his best friend’s body. Mac suppresses a shiver. “I know,” he says.

“Thank you for stopping me.” Riley’s voice is quiet. So, so quiet. 

“You would’ve done the same for me.” Gingerly, Mac wraps his arm around Riley’s shoulders, ready to let go at the first sign of her discomfort. When she doesn’t react, he relaxes and holds her more surely. 

The sky is painted in vibrant oranges and reds, fading into deep blue overhead. Subtle strokes of pink outline the scattered clouds hanging above the horizon. Out of all the sunsets Mac has seen, all over the world, nothing quite compares to the ones here at home. He wishes Jack was here to see it. 

Mac spends far too long debating whether to bring it up before asking, “Why did you go to the trial?” Agents, especially secret ones, don’t go to trials, mostly to keep their identities safe. Publicly tying oneself to a case is never a good idea, for more reasons that Mac can begin to name. 

“I swore I’d be there every step of the way. I meant it.” Mac tries not to bristle at the snarling, defensive edge to Riley’s tone. “Eventually, she’ll make a mistake, and I will be there when she does. And then I’m going to rip out her entire organization from the roots up.” 

Fear wraps its ugly hand around Mac’s heart. Until every single person associated with Tiberius Kovac is behind bars, there will be a target on Riley’s back, and Riley will have put it there herself. Losing one person to Kovac is more than enough; Mac refuses to lose Riley too. 

“How can I help you?” 

Riley looks up, eyes wide like she’s expecting him to try to talk her out of it, not offer to help. “You don’t have to do that.” 

“And miss out on all the fun?” Mac almost smiles as he quotes her. Almost. 

She sits up. “Honestly, I don’t know. I’m going to hack Interpol first, to see which of her colleagues might also be dirty. So unless you secretly picked up hacking…” 

Mac huffs. “Sorry, I only hack hardware.” He expects some insane, crackhead plan, not something so…reasonable. Maybe Riley isn’t as off-the-rails as he thought. 

But only maybe. 

A seagull perches on the railing below them, honking and squawking for seemingly no reason at all. Gulls are just like that. It glares at Mac, pinning him to his spot with a beady yellow eye, challenging Mac to shoo it away. 

Go find some tourists to harass, Mac wants to snark at it. Leave us alone. 

The seagull cocks its head, as if to say, I know something you don’t. 

Mac narrows his eyes. I bet you do. 

He swears the seagull shrugs before taking off, flying low over the GTO before sailing over rooftops on its way back to the ocean. It passes a billboard advertising a new blockbuster spy thriller, the product of millions of dollars and Hollywood plot recycling. Mac saw the trailer. The movie is about a soldier who joined the CIA in a quest for retribution after his best friend came home in a box. Usually Mac likes watching spy movies—mostly to make fun of them—but this one hits a little too close to home. 

It takes a monumental effort to tear his gaze away. 

When his eyes finally meet Riley’s, Mac understands the silent ache in them—the ache that’s surely reflected in his own eyes. He and Riley are drowning, but at least they’re drowning together. 

Mac frowns. That must be the dimmest “on the bright side” thought he’s ever had. 

Riley doesn’t say anything more, so neither does Mac. They sit on the fire escape until long after the sun sets and the temperature drops, and the city's nightlife stretches its limbs as it wakes. Mac shivers, but Riley seems oddly unaffected by the cold. That or she’s too numb to notice. 

He threads his still semi-warm fingers through her icy ones, letting their joined hands rest on his knee. It seems like his last tether to the Riley he knows and loves, one who’s slowly slipping away from him and being replaced by a woman who might very well bring the world to its knees as payback for all that it’s done to her. 

Mac has no interest in ever meeting that woman. Mostly because he refuses to lose his Riley, but also because Mac knows he won’t be able to resist that other Riley. She will slash his restraint beyond repair, and Mac will follow her to the ends of the earth. 

He will find a way to keep them both afloat. He has to. 

Or else the Phoenix may very well be hunting him and Riley again, and this time, they’ll deserve it.

*****

Entering her apartment later that night, Riley realizes too late that it isn’t empty. Bozer is still there, and he’s making dinner. Locking the door behind her, she hears a rushed, “Got to go, Matty. She’s home.” 

Bozer crashed on her couch the night they got the news and never left. I don't want you to be alone, Bozer keeps saying, despite her insistence she doesn’t need a babysitter. Other than that, they don’t speak to each other much. In fact, Riley wouldn't have noticed he said anything at all if not for the way he stares at her, standing at the stove and twirling a wooden spoon between his fingers. 

"What?" she snaps. 

Carefully, Bozer asks, "How was the trial?" 

"Fine." Riley knows he cares, and that he’s hurting too, but nothing he says or does is going to help her. The sooner he figures that out the better. She drops her keys and jacket on a chair before heading for her bedroom. 

“You hungry?” he calls after her. 

Riley yanks off her boots, chucking them into the closet with too much force. “No.” 

“Have you eaten anything today?” 

Her fuse is running short these days, and she’s just about had it with his incessant smothering and questioning. Riley marches into the kitchen, rolling her shoulders back and bracing her hands on the counter. “Last I checked, I still have a mother, so if you’re just going to keep nagging me, then I think it’s time you get the fuck out of my apartment.” 

Bozer’s eyes widen and his mouth opens, but no sound comes out. 

“Get out,” Riley snarls. 

Still struggling to regain his ability to speak, Bozer stammers, “At least let me finish making you dinner first.” 

“Fine.” Cracking her knuckles, Riley retreats to her bedroom once more. “I’m taking a shower. You better be gone when I come out.” She doesn’t wait for a response. 

When Riley emerges, her dinner is cold, and Bozer is long gone. 

She doesn’t eat.

*****

On the second day of Vitez’s trial, Riley sits in the back of the room long after the trial adjourns for the day, thinking. She didn’t recognize the witnesses who testified today, and as the prosecutor called each one forward, Riley wished she had her laptop so she could look them up. Now, as she stares over the rows of empty wooden seats to the section where the jury sat, Riley can only hope that the witnesses’ testimonies are enough. 

Riley knows there’s more than enough evidence to convict Vitez—especially since she recorded the confession herself—but obsessing over the trial is easier than facing the reality waiting outside the courthouse doors. 

Her mom invited her to visit his grave today, after the trial, but Riley declined. Facing that slab of granite will make it real, make it…permanent. 

She knows what it says. Jack Dalton. Beloved. Gone too soon. Someone asked for her approval before it was made. It doesn’t say nearly enough to encapsulate all that he was, but at the time Riley couldn’t think about it—couldn’t look at it—long enough to suggest any changes. She still can’t. 

Chewing her lip, Riley anxiously toys with her rings, spinning them and moving them from finger to finger. 

At the wake, one of his old Delta buddies joked that the gravestone should read “Yippee-ki-yay, motherfuckers,” but Riley didn’t laugh. 

Riley hasn’t laughed since Matty broke the news. It’s like the part of her that knows how to feel joy died in that explosion too. 

Instead, she wants to scream at the universe until her voice gives out, cursing it for taking her dad away too soon. Because that’s what he is. Her dad. Riley doesn’t even know when she started calling him that again, but if she has to guess, it was sometime between the first “I’m proud of you, honey” and him kicking her ass at skee-ball for the millionth time.

Tears leak from Riley’s eyes without her consent. 

It feels like she failed him, in a way. By not being there. By not keeping him alive. 

Now the best she can do is make sure his death means something. 

Vitez will go to prison for the rest of her life, that Riley is sure of. But the rest of her organization is still out there, and Riley intends on putting every single member behind bars. No amount of justice will even begin to heal the Jack-shaped wound in her heart, but at least the world will be better for it. Safer. 

But she’d rather live in a more dangerous world with him still in it than a safer one without. That way they could save the world together, like they always did. 

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

Anger rumbles through her body, like a Texas thunderstorm in her veins. It’s the only emotion Riley feels anymore, ever since the sadness gave way to numbness. 

A woman in a security uniform pokes her head in the room. “Excuse me, ma’am. I need to lock up for the night.” When Riley doesn’t respond, the woman adds, “Are you okay?” 

Are you okay? Riley hates that question more than all the others. How are you? Have you eaten today? What can I do to help? 

She feels like she’s dying. She can’t eat. Nothing will help. 

But that isn’t what people want to hear. Even Mac asked that last question, yesterday on the fire escape, although Riley didn’t automatically despise the question like she usually did. It’s different coming from him than anyone else; his offer was genuine, not coming from pity or obligation.

She isn’t surprised Mac recognized her need to do something. After all, he had been the same way after his dad was killed. 

Coldly, Riley finally says,“I will be.” The woman doesn’t deserve her abrupt answer, but Riley can’t quite bring herself to care. She lets the anger the questions bring up fuel her, lets it hold her together. 

The anger is all she has left. 

Riley stands, her heels clicking on the floor as she exits the courthouse. 

She’s coming for all the monsters who hurt him. She’s coming for the ones who rendered him nothing more than ashes on the wind, the ones who turned her life into a nightmare she can’t wake up from. 

Because she doesn’t need to wake up to become theirs.

~

Want to be tagged in future chapters? Send me an ask.

[samingtonwilson]

Mac and Cheese

Summary: Bucky takes the last box of frozen mac and cheese, takes your phone, and makes you fall in love with him. The audacity of that man.

Prompt: “This has been a very bad week and you just grabbed the last box of my favorite comfort food at the supermarket” 

Pairing: bucky x reader

a/n: i wrote this and was fully done formatting it and everything, like, 6 months ago. i didn’t post it because it’s approx. 82% nonsense but i figured why not post it now when it’s still 82% nonsense but im struggling to finish everything else. so taal, long time vegan, writes a story about mac and cheese and, listen, idk what this fic is either. can i write a fic without adding sam to it? no.

Mac and cheese. That’s all you want. Disgusting, frozen, usually-quite-mushy-if-not-microwaved-correctly mac and fucking cheese. 

The kind with the layer of cheese on top. The kind with that real elbow pasta, not rotini or penne or seashell pasta— real macaroni. The kind you try to only eat one serving size of before you eat everything in the package. The kind you always gravitate to when your eyes are stained red, swollen, and too proud to be anything other than dry.

You take the subway. You switch lines. You endure the smell of the F train during rush hour when you aren’t sure where your thigh ends and the thigh of the woman sitting beside you begins. All for that one Trader Joe’s, out of many, in Brooklyn the hipsters abandon before six because the coffee shop next door closes at five.

Your feet ache in your boots and you’re pretty sure a rock has somehow lodged itself between your toes, it’s starting to rain and you have no umbrella, you don’t think your throat has ever felt so parched. 

But you tuck your phone into your back pocket and march into that store with the hideous overhead lighting that makes your skin look like it hasn’t seen a bottle of toner in days like you’re Hades, the box of mac and cheese is Persephone, and Trader Joe’s is Mount Olympus.

You aren’t planning on smiling at anyone in greeting. You aren’t planning on making eye contact with anyone. You aren’t even planning on waiting politely behind whoever is inevitably idly standing in front of the pasta section of the frozen aisle— you’re going to say, “Excuse me.” Like the badass, New Yorker, on-the-verge-of-tears bitch you are and you’re going to toss that mac and cheese into your basket like you’re Steph Curry at the NBA Finals.

Lines are long when you walk in, cashiers bored-looking and tired. The produce section is a jungle of stay at home fathers and people who make their own pressed juice, the salad display a mess of college students trying to eat healthy. 

Your eyes accidentally meet those of a toddler who is slyly plucking a grape from a bag he had no intention of spending his allowance on and you smile.

You hold your basket like a designer handbag and dilly-dally only for a moment to pick up some yogurt for breakfast tomorrow. 

And some inauthentic babka because there’s no way in hell you���re going to endure Zabar’s after this. 

And a package of olive oil popcorn, a bottle of three dollar chardonnay, and string cheese. 

But that’s it. Self-control.

You feel the chill of the frozen aisle before you step into it. You feel the magnetic pull of that box with only one step in its direction. You stop for just a second to grab the mini mango and cream pops.

You almost roll your eyes to yourself when you see that someone is indeed standing right in front of the frozen selection of pasta. He’s staring at two boxes— a red one in his gloved left hand and the one in his right hand green.

As you grow closer you notice behind his curtain of dark hair that his eyebrows are knit together and he’s frowning at a decision he must be forcing himself to make. 

Sophie’s Choice, but involving mediocre excuses for Italian food and no Nazis— hopefully. Because who really knows these days?

He wears a forest green hoodie under a black leather jacket, black jeans tight around thick thighs. Boots, too. You think you might swoon.

And you wait behind him. You tap your foot, shift your weight, and chew on your bottom lip. You don’t say anything.

He looks over his shoulder when you curse under your breath and set the heavy basket at your feet. He’s apologetic— and handsome— by the looks of it, blue eyes slightly widened and lips downturned. “Shit,” he says as he takes a few steps to the right. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug. You kick your basket with the toe of your boot until it lightly smacks against the bottom of the freezer. “No problem. It’s a big decision.”

His eyes lift from the boxes and he smiles. “Biggest one I’ve gotten to make in a while.”

Setting your hands atop the cold metal railing, you stare down into the freezer. You see farfalle with roasted tomatoes, rigatoni with pesto, ricotta and spinach ravioli, roasted vegetable lasagna, cauliflower gnocchi, chicken parm, and… an empty space. 

You tilt your head.

You lean away and crouch to read the description cards, looking for the bubble letters to tell you where on Earth your saving grace is. When you spot the card, you stand again. The indicated space is empty, your heart is empty, your will to live is—

A box of organic pesto tortellini is tossed back into the freezer and you look up. Your eyes might lose their prideful dryness at any moment, even in public next to that handsome stranger with the nice jacket and,

the box of mac and cheese.

You gasp audibly and leap backwards. You point at the box in his left hand.

With an expression of panic, he holds his hands— and the box— up in innocence. “It’s okay. I’m not—”

“What the fuck is that?” you shout to gain the attention of customers you don’t even perceive, waggling your finger at the box. Your wide-eyed stare, and bared teeth, and messy hair must be terrifying. You hope they are.

He looks down at his hand. An eyebrow lifts. And, confusedly, he asks, “The box?”

“Yes, the fucking box!”

“It’s mac and—” he meets your gaze again. You’re wearing your anger like armor. But you aren’t scared. Bucky thinks he might never have felt such relief at a woman’s anger. “It’s mac and cheese.”

You shake your head. Wildly. Your neck hurts. “It’s the last box of mac and cheese!”

He glances at the box, then back at you. He jabs his thumb over his shoulder. “They might have some in the back—”

You shake your head again. A hint of devastation cracks your voice as you say, “It’s Monday night. Trader Joe’s restocks Tuesday night. This is usually all they have left.”

“I—” He pauses. “Is this shit really that good—”

“No, it’s not but that’s not the point!” you’re shouting again. And crying. Oh, God, you’re crying. In public. “The point is my building is going co-op!”

He tilts his head. “Your building is—”

“And I have to buy my apartment if I want to keep it! And they don’t give raises at my job to women unless they’re willing to suck something I won’t say in front of that kid right there,” you nod toward a little girl in a pink raincoat with her pin straight black hair in pigtails who stares at you in bewilderment. You sniffle. “So I quit. And I’m proud of myself for it. Because I have integrity, and I have self-respect, and I have no gag reflex, so the rejection should kill my boss dead.”

He cracks a small smile when you let out a short, watery, pathetic laugh. Easily, he holds the box out to you. “I hope your boss is dead, too.”

You laugh again and don’t hesitate before taking the box. You wipe your cheeks with your sleeve. “Thank you. You’re nice.”

“Not a popular opinion, but one I’ll certainly take.” He’s smiling and it’s warm. “Sorry— about all that.”

“You’re apologizing to me? I just screamed at you in the Trader Joe’s freezer aisle over mac and cheese.”

He shakes his head and picks up his own basket when you grab yours. “Your building’s going co-op and your boss deserves to burn in hell. You should get all the mac and cheese you want.”

You reach into the freezer for that green box of tortellini he’d thrown in, tossing it into his basket with a smile. Steph Curry at the NBA Finals. “Still. I’m sorry for yelling and I hope the tortellini doesn’t suck too bad.”

“It’s frozen pasta. My expectations are low.”

You hum a laugh and walk past him to the crowded lines at the registers. “As they should be.”

It’s when you’re lost in the sea of customers and Bucky is deciding between frozen palak paneer and frozen lamb vindaloo with basmati rice that he feels a tug at the hem of his jacket. 

He looks away from the green and orange boxes, lowering his gaze to meet curious almond-shaped eyes beneath blunt black bangs. He smiles and she returns it. “Yes?”

She reveals her right hand, which she had hidden behind her pink raincoat, and holds a phone up to Bucky as far as her arm will let her.

“Is that your phone?”

She shakes her head and giggles. Loud, happy, and squeaky. “Yelling lady dropped her phone.”

Bucky’s eyebrows knit together until a woman, much closer to his height, steps behind the little girl. She takes the phone the girl holds out and offers it to Bucky when he straightens his posture. Her smile looks like the little girl’s. “We figured you would have a good chance at getting it back to her.”

He takes the phone and nods his thanks. Pressing the power button reveals a picture of you and a dog, a large, fluffy dog with its pink tongue hanging low. You’re smiling brightly and, oddly, it seems like the dog is, too.

—

“So you just took her phone? Didn’t even ask an employee to keep it there in case she came back for it?”

Bucky, watching the tray of pasta rotate in the microwave, scowls. “I would’ve if I’d known that was an option. And stop eating my fuckin’ chips.”

Sam tosses back another handful of kettle-cooked barbecue potato chips in defiance so the obnoxious crunching echoes through the kitchen. He smiles sarcastically when Bucky snatches the bag and rolls it up. Half is already gone. “You come up with how you’re gonna get it back to her?”

“Thinkin’ about asking Pepper to post a picture of it like it’s a missing child to that ‘Tweeter’ nonsense,” Bucky replies dryly. He’s glaring at Sam as he leans his hip against the counter. “You and I both know I haven’t come up with shit.”

Sam snorts and is smiling in amusement, deep brown eyes alight. Bucky hates the sight. “Tweeter. You’re so fuckin’ old.”

It’s been hours since Bucky took the phone from who he learned is little Vivienne and her mother, and he is no closer to getting it back to you. 

He’d tried looking for you at the store but there were too many people for a Trader Joe’s that Yelp claimed was the least busy in New York for that to yield results. So he returned to the Tower. He thought about asking Tony to look into the doohickey but figured an invasion of privacy should be the last resort.

He pulls the tray from the microwave with nimble vibranium fingers and sniffs the pasta before setting it down on the counter. He removes a bowl from one of the cabinets and dumps the steaming pasta in it, a sprinkle of freshly grated parmesan from a tub he’d bought— also at Trader Joe’s— a finishing touch.

“She’s cute,” Sam says when the screen lights up with an incoming text notification.

Bucky spins his fork between his fingers as he walks around the counter to sit on the barstool beside Sam’s. He glances at the phone as well. “Very cute,” he agrees. “She had a shitty day. Something about her apartment goin’ co-op. Whatever the hell that means.”

Sam frowns. “Means she’s gotta buy the place. And with New York real estate prices right now,” he shakes his head with a sigh. “She better have a well-paying job.”

“Quit that today, too.” Bucky takes a bite of the pasta and hisses as it burns his tongue. “Boss is a creep that asked for some action in exchange for a raise.”

“Jesus. Poor girl.”

The tortellini isn’t great. It’s a little bland, a bit too dry, and there isn’t enough filling— but it’s better than Bucky had expected. He takes another bite. “Yeah. And I took the last box of mac and cheese. Which is what she went to the store for.”

“I’m surprised your head wasn’t chopped off.”

Bucky smiles. “She yelled— a lot. Was crying, too, ‘til she said something and made herself laugh.”

Sam then begins teasing Bucky juvenilely for having a crush until both men are laughing and shoving one another to see who falls off their stool first, Sam only relenting when Bucky hands the potato chips to him again as a peace offering.

The bowl is in the sink and the chips are down to just crumbs when a loud ringtone— an instrumental version of an R&B song Bucky recognizes from Sam’s many plays of the original— shocks the two of them.

It’s from an unknown number and Bucky is unsure if he should pick up until Sam swipes answer and puts the call on speakerphone. “Hello?”

A sigh. Bucky doesn’t know if it’s one of relief or frustration. “I’m hoping whoever this is found my phone and didn’t steal it.”  

Sam shoves Bucky’s shoulder with a toothy grin and Bucky rolls his eyes. “The little girl you almost traumatized in the freezer aisle found it and gave it to me.”

Another sigh— the relief in this one is obvious— and you’re laughing. “It’s you— tortellini dude. Must’ve fallen when I crouched down.”

“Seems like it, yeah.”

“So are you gonna ask for my address or do I have to schlep over to Avengers Tower?”

Bucky and Sam exchange a look. “Avengers Tower?”

“You weren’t exactly in disguise— I realized who you are the minute I left the store. Would’ve recognized you right away but I was in my own head and you aren’t my favorite Avenger.”

Bucky smiles. “Yeah? And who is?”

“Falcon.”

Immediately, the phone is taken from Bucky’s hand. “Hi, baby, you’ve got Falcon.”

A gasp, a pause, then you laugh. Audibly stunned laughter. “You guys actually hang out with each other? That’s cute.”

Before Sam can reply, Bucky flicks his forehead— in reply to which Sam elbows Bucky’s ribs— and takes the phone back. “I can bring your phone to you whenever you’re free.”

“Awesome. I’m unemployed now so any time tomorrow is fine.”

You tell him your address before hanging up and he wishes you a good night. Your laughter is the last thing he hears before three beeps signify the end of the call.

—

Bucky takes the subway. He switches lines to the F train. He tries not to mind the overpowering smell of stale B.O. and deli meat leftover from rush hour, the skittering steps of a rat across the floor in the adjacent empty car. He ignores those who stare at him intensely enough to burn the fabric right off his skin. All for that one apartment in SoHo.

He thinks the gash below his ribs might still be leaking as the warm, moist subway station air blows past him. He can feel that cluster of bruises above his knee— the one from the pipe the hostile operative had ripped off the rickety walls of a nearly destroyed Hydra base— every time he takes a step, more so as he climbs the stairs.

He knows he must be quite a sight with combat boots and tac pants worn and dusty, a simple bomber jacket thrown over a ripped, sliced, stained compression tank. His mind is blank, his eyes shadowy, the ghost of something terrible lurking behind blue and grey. 

Posture stiff and muscles cold, steps crisp despite the ache, he follows the familiar path and manages to form the thought of turning around. Not bringing this all to a threshold— or, more accurately, a windowsill— he’s only crossed three or four times. He’s too weak, though.

It takes one rap of his knuckles against the third-story window for a lamp to flicker on, gauzy drapes pushed aside. You smile as he lifts the window open, stepping aside as he enters the apartment with careful grace. He feels less guilty when he sees that your bed is still made and your hair isn’t the tangled mess it usually is when he bursts in at a late hour.

“I have a door.”

“Okay, show-off.”

It’s when he steps into the light of the standing lamp in the room’s corner that your quiet laughter gives way to a soft gasp. 

He doesn’t like the widening of your eyes or the way you gently lift the right side of his jacket, fingers light against the torn fabric. But you laugh again, and it shakes in nervousness. “You know I’m not a doctor, right? Or a nurse? Or even a pharmacist with high self-efficacy?”

He nods and, despite himself, there’s a smile pulling at a corner of his lips. His eyes brighten a little. “It’ll heal itself.”

“Confidence. I like that in a burglar.”

Before he can take a step further into your bedroom, you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth and point at his feet. “Boots.”

He kicks them off with a sigh and a groan when the shifting of his knee sends a tremor up his leg. His jacket is tossed aside as well, and he catches the black t-shirt you throw to him. You’d washed it, folded it, and put it in your closet. 

Just a little more brightness. “You owe me mac and cheese.”

“Oh, I owe you mac and cheese? We’re really holding onto shit from four months ago?”

He nods again and pulls his tank off, withholding a wince.

Eyebrow raised, you cross your arms over your chest. You’re giving him a narrow look but, because you’re clearly struggling against a smile, it’s one of his favorites of the expressions you’ve ever offered him. 

You give him a towel next— pastel blue. “Shower and then we’ll see about me owing you something.”

He wants to say thank you, do more than smile. 

But he knows if he so much as opens his mouth while you’re looking at him the way you are, he’ll tell you he’s fallen in love with you over the last four months, that maybe he’s been in love since you screamed at him in the freezer section of Trade Joe’s. 

He’ll go to say thank you, but the words of a Byron poem he’d learned to impress a girl in his English class more than eighty years ago will come pouring out or he’ll simply kiss you like he wishes he could on the nights he can’t sleep or during the missions he can just barely endure. 

He’ll go to say thank you, and then tell you with no clarity whatsoever that you’re what he finds comfort in when he’s had a hard day. That the disgusting, mushy, nothing-compared-to-fresh mac and cheese is just an excuse.

But he just smiles. And nods. And takes a shower.

His hair is still wet as he stands across from you at the kitchen counter. There’s a bowl of steaming pasta between you, a spoon in his hand and a fork in yours. “You’re dripping onto the counter.”

With a cocking of his eyebrow, he shakes his head and you sputter a laugh, shoving his shoulder. “Bucky!”

He laughs then, fully and happily, as he reaches over to wipe the drops from your cheeks and forehead. You only smile back, the gleaming of your eyes making him feel warm all over.

“This shit’s terrible, by the way,” he says after a minute of staring.

You shrug a shoulder. “Told you.”

“And you fought me for it. Publicly.”

You shrug again and laugh. You lean your elbows atop the counter to match his relaxed posture, dragging a noodle through a particularly large puddle of melted cheese. 

Looking up, your nose nearly bumps Bucky’s and you hope he doesn’t hear your breath stall. You try to smile. “Makes me feel better when I need to fill that hole in my heart.”

“With cholesterol?” he jokes.

“Yes. It’s excellent. It’s like spackle.” As he laughs and you roll your eyes, you push off the counter to stand straight. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Yeah?”

You hum. “I’m seeing an apartment I want tomorrow and need the rent lowered. And you’re the Winter Soldier.”

He considers that for a moment and you burst into laughter just as his eyes narrow into a fond glare. “You want me to scare them into lowering the rent?”

“Don’t think of it as you scaring them,” you begin, rounding the counter to stand next to him, hip leant against the marble, “think of it as you being an amazing friend and helping me.” A moment later you add, “By scaring them.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. He glances at the bowl to avoid the risk of staring at you for too long. “Fine.”

You grin. “You really take no convincing.”

A snort and he meets your gaze. “Only when it comes to you. I’m afraid you’ll start crying again.”

“So I could ask you for anything and you’d probably say yes?”

He shrugs a bit, then nods. Who is he kidding? You could ask for his right arm and he’d give it to you.

“Okay. Go on a date with me then.”

There’s a pause— in the conversation, in his chest. “A what?”

“A date. It’s like dinner, or coffee, or a movie, or something.” You grin when he takes half a step in your direction and his hands grip onto the counter at either side of you. “It’s this thing people do when they like each other.”

Something much more than like is in the sparkling of your eyes and the tilt of your head. Something that might match exactly what’s in his eyes whenever he’s around you. His insides burn at the thought.

“I know what a date is.”

“They had those back in your day?”

He nods and leans forward. “Not from the Stone Ages.”

Your lips brush lightly against his, hand set on his chest to feel the rapid beating beneath. You smile and he thinks he might melt. “Could’ve fooled me with that hair.”

Laughing, he presses his lips to yours a little harder.

—

Apartment littered with unpacked boxes, misplaced books, and askew furniture, you sit on top of the counter where Bucky works. He’s twirling a knife through his metal fingers, arranging sprigs of chives on the cutting board with the flesh ones. 

He smiles when he catches you staring at the pan cooling on the stove. “S’not done yet.”

You sigh. Loudly, heavily. “You took it out of the oven. That means it’s done.”

“It needs to cool for a few minutes or you’ll burn off your taste buds. You want to burn off your taste buds?”

“You want to burn off your taste buds?” you repeat in a high-pitched, taunting voice. You’re scowling and, somehow, look to be on the verge of snatching the knife from him to stab it through his chest. “Maybe I do.”

Less than a minute later, you groan and add, “I don’t care how good you are in bed. I’m about ten seconds from dumping you.”

Swiftly, he chops the chives and turns around to sprinkle a bit into the baking dish. “You know, most people would say thank you.”

“Most people don’t have to wait an hour while their boyfriend attempts to make mac and cheese when there’s a perfectly good box in the freezer that would take four minutes.”

“It’s worth it.”

In all honesty, he doesn’t know if it’s worth it. 

He’d asked Sam for a recipe and did his best to follow it despite the autocorrect which had changed “gruyere” to “grape year.” But he trusts it since Sam generally knows what he’s doing in the kitchen. Unlike Steve who had continuously attempted to chime in with useless suggestions such as, “Maybe don’t add the paprika.”

“Just trust me,” he urges as if replying to the growling of your stomach which has interrupted his search for the plates he could’ve sworn he’d unpacked. He’s crouched and searching the lower cabinets as he adds, “You’ll fall in love with me after you try it.” 

“Who says I haven’t already?” 

He stops searching.

He peeks his head above the edge of the counter and, his eyes wide, he sees you pulling two plates from a box placed on the small nook table. Your smile is small and a bit sheepish— the latter something he’d never seen from you. 

“You never took them out,” you tell him, the clatter of ceramic on the wooden surface loud when you set the plates down. As you approach and he stands to his full height, you sigh and roll your eyes at the look he gives you. “Yes, I love you. It can’t be that shocking.”

“It isn’t.” 

“Someone should tell your face that.”

Chuckling over the heavy thumps in his chest, he leans forward to kiss you but pauses just to say, “I love you, too, by the way.” 

When an empty dish sits between the two of you, Bucky’s stomach warm and full of over three-quarters of it, you stand from the table and walk to the freezer. 

Shooting a smile over your shoulder, you grab the familiar red box and toss it into the stainless steel trash can. Steph Curry at the NBA Finals. “I’m never eating that shit again.”

[heavenlyhaechan]

The Pursuit of Happiness

Pairing: Ten x Gn!Reader 

Genre: strangers to friends to lovers au, fluff, a teensy tiny itty bitty basically nonexistent bit of angst, 

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: very brief mentions of stress, 

Rating: PG 

Note: happy birthday ten!!! 

The day was bright and sunny, which inconveniently contradicted your mood. You wouldn’t have to be outside for long though you reminded yourself, just long enough to get a net of clementines from the co-op down the street. This small bit of happiness would have to be enough to hold you over until finals were finished and you could finally breathe again. 

The bell on the door jingled merrily, another offensive clash with your mood. You headed straight for the produce section, your eyes watching your feet as they moved you forward. You knew your way around this little shop so well you were sure you could find what you wanted with your eyes closed. 

When you saw the last net of clementines sitting on the old wood shelf, the blue of the net complimenting the bright orange fruit, your heart leaped. Well maybe not leaped, but certainly sat up a little straighter. Your hand reached for them, but just before your fingertips could brush the netted plastic it was being snatched away by a quicker shopper. 

Your heart sunk again as you looked up to meet the eyes of the clementine stealer. His dark bangs fell into his eyes and down his neck, and a mole stared at you from under his left eye. He looked a bit confused which only proceeded to aggravate the indignation now building in your chest. 

“Uhhh,” he began, eyes moving back and forth from you to the clementines in his hand. 

“I’ll pay you for them,” you interrupted him, hands rummaging in your pockets for your wallet. 

“No no it’s okay,” he shook his head emphatically. “You can just have them.” 

It was then that you were reminded of the way you’d left your residence, half asleep after a three-hour nap that had been proceeded by your third all-nighter this week. You were in the same clothes you’d been wearing yesterday, wrinkled no doubt, with circles that made you resemble a raccoon imprinted under your eyes. 

And yet if the sympathy of this stranger meant that you got your treasured clementines, then you couldn’t complain. 

“Okay,” you took them from him. “Thank you.” 

“Sure,” he nodded amicably. “Just know that you owe me.” 

——

“Wow, there’s a lot of people here,” you said to Yuta as you took your seats. Nearly every chair in the auditorium had already been taken and people were still filing in through the double doors that led to the lobby. 

“For good reason,” he told you as he leaned back in his seat. “They’re really good.” 

You had agreed to go with him to see his friend Sicheng and his dance company perform a while ago, so long that it had almost escaped your mind today. You supposed it was a good thing that Yuta never failed to give you countless reminders for everything in your life, from a project due to an event that you had promised to attend with him months ago. 

Just as you began to flip through the program in your lap the lights in the audience went down only to be replaced by a single spotlight. A man appeared from the side of the stage to announce the upcoming performance before disappearing backstage once more. 

The dark and silence that followed made you feel like the entire audience was holding their breath. Then the red velvet curtain parted and the show began. 

——

You clung to Yuta’s arm so as not to lose him in the crowd as you wove your way through the lobby to the door marked with a neon exit sign. He had agreed to meet Sicheng outside after the performance and so there you waited, hands stuffed in your pockets to ward off the winter chill. 

Soon enough a chattering group exited the building, their stage makeup looking comical under the light of the streetlamps. 

“Sicheng!” Yuta cried as his friend emerged from within their midst to greet him. You laughed to yourself at the modest and faintly embarrassed expression on his face as Yuta began to talk his ear off about the intricacies of the show you’d just watched. 

Leaning against the brick wall of the building you watched as people hugged each other goodbye, feeling oddly out of place. Then you were met with the sight of a familiar face with a familiar mole under the left eye. 

“I’m pretty sure you owe me,” he said as he leaned against the wall next to you. 

“Oh, you were serious?” 

“Of course.” 

You stared him down, waiting for him to waver. But he didn’t. Instead, he just smiled at you like you were an old friend, someone who he had shared tubs of popcorn with and borrowed a towel from after a summer day spent in the pool. 

You felt entrapped in his gaze, but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. His eyes were warm and comfortable like a rare spot of sun on the wood floor in winter. It wasn’t exactly a staring contest you were partaking in, but you still didn’t want to be the first to look away. 

“I don’t even know your name,” you finally conceded. 

“Ten,” he said simply, reaching out a hand to shake. 

You told him your name and he repeated it back to you, rolling the foreign syllables around on his tongue like they were peas fresh out of the pod. Your name, something so mundane after hearing it so many times, sounded fresh and beautiful coming from him. 

“So how about you buy me an ice cream cone to pay off your debt.” 

“It’s too cold for ice cream.” 

“It’s never too cold for ice cream,” he said cheekily before turning to say goodbye to his friends. 

You stepped forward as well to let Yuta know where you were going, and after an affirmation from Sicheng that Ten wasn’t a creep, he let you go with a promise that you’d text him when you got home. 

——

“So what’d you think of the performance?” Ten asked you before taking a bite of his green tea ice cream. 

You shuddered at the sight, gums cringing in phantom pain. He tilted his head like a cat would at your actions, and you quickly had to explain that it was aimed at him biting his ice cream, not at the performance. 

“It was amazing,” you said after the miscommunication had been cleared up. 

“Yeah?” 

“Mm.” 

Your mind drifted off for a moment as you relived the contents of the show you’d just watched. Some songs had been slow, strange, and hypnotizing. Others were much more upbeat, the energy in the room making you feel like you could fly up into the rafters of the grand auditorium. 

“What about me?” Ten asked, successfully jolting you from your fond remembering. 

“Huh?” 

“What do you think about me?” 

You smiled at the cheshire grin on his face, noticed the way his eyes twinkled with mischief. To yourself you thought, I think I’d like to see more of those eyes, but out loud you said: 

“I think I’d like to get to know you better.” 

——

Months passed and you did exactly that, got to know each other better. You learned that Ten actually hated fruit and that he had only wanted to buy the clementines for his roommate, the aforementioned Sicheng. You saw firsthand how hard he worked, how creativity ran through his veins in place of blood and leaked out of his pores in place of sweat. 

You quickly learned that he shared your affinity for coffee and so, since you only lived a few blocks away from each other, much of your time was spent haunting the local coffee shop. It was there that he told you of his home back in Thailand and of his family and friends there, as well as the story of how he started dancing. 

He talked a lot if you let him, but you didn’t mind. He was fascinating to listen to and to watch. Time and time again you found yourself sinking into the depths of his eyes as you listened, bathing in their warmth. 

He caught you doing just that a few times more than you’d like, laughing kindheartedly at your embarrassment before starting back up again where he had left off. He was always kind, even when he teased you for the purple butterfly sticker you bought to place over your laptop camera. 

“You watch too many crime movies,” he’d said before letting out an exaggerated yelp when you’d punched him in the arm. 

Tonight you were watching yet another crime movie on that same laptop, your blankets creating a nest for you to rest in. Ten sat next to you, his fingers braiding the loose strings on the side of one of those very blankets. Every now and then he would look up to watch you, barely remembering to pay any attention to the movie. 

Your brow creased as you focused on the crime detailed in the film, your eyes wide and reflecting the screen at him. Your shoulders were hunched in and for a moment he wondered whether it was from the cold. This made him realize how cold it was in your living room, despite all of the blankets, and so he slipped an arm around you until you were pulled up against his side and sharing his body heat. 

You jumped in response to his actions, almost crying out from surprise after being so engrossed in the movie before you. 

“Sorry, I thought you were cold,” he said quietly. 

“Oh. It’s okay,” you decided, not wanting to admit how comfortable he was and how nice he smelled. 

“Okay,” he said, moving his arm into a more comfortable position. You jumped again but for a different reason this time. 

“Sorry I-” he started to retract his arm. 

“No, it’s okay I just-” 

“Wait,” he cut you off, his trademark grin growing and filling you with anticipation. “Are you ticklish?” 

“No,” you said quickly, maybe too quickly. 

He let out a giggle and poked your side to test his theory. You jumped a third time, pushing him away in annoyance. But now he was laughing outright and you couldn’t help but laugh with him, any momentary exasperation disappearing as the golden sound poured out of your throats. 

The two of you sat there laughing for far too long and simultaneously not long enough, movie long forgotten. You hadn’t laughed like that since you were a kid, that exhilarating feeling where anything and everything is truly hysterical. 

Eventually, you lapsed from breathless giggles into giddy smiles. As Ten watched you, his heart still pounding like a drum in his chest, he had a rare moment of clarity. 

“I like you.” 

Once he came to the realization it wasn’t something he had to think about saying out loud. Why shouldn't you know? You were the only one that he cared to tell after all. 

“Like like?” you asked despite how childish you felt. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Like like.” 

Your lips parted in surprise at his words, eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings. 

“You don’t have to say it back if you don’t want to,” he said matter of factly. “I told you so you’d know, not so you’d say it back.” 

The corners of your mouth turned up against your will as you stared down at your hands where they rested in your lap. You realized then how easily smiling came to you since you’d met him. How easily happiness came. You no longer had to convince yourself that your small pleasures and indulgences were happiness, for in the time since you’d met Ten you had simply begun to believe it. 

“I like you too.” 

“Really?” his eyes lit up as he looked at you, mouth curving into a newborn smile. 

“Really.” 

[ace-oreos]

I know its impossible for it to have happened but I would like to see some Alpha vs Darth Maul. Like Maul would be like 'oh your one of kenobi's' and Alpha would be like 'i just work for the man but i will absolutely fight you'

I’ve said it many times before and I’ll say it one last time here: anon, you were so very patient and I can’t thank you enough for waiting all these months for me to finish this. 

I can safely say the funniest part of writing this was trying to figure out how to put together Maul’s Drama™ and... Alpha’s penchant for avoiding drama by any means necessary. It made writing the dialogue VERY fun XD

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added!): @dudewhynotthis @merspots @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @delta-the-mando @or-te-ka-ra @huitzilinthebudgie3 @a-lil-perspective

By all accounts, the Sith isn’t supposed to be here.

Just my luck, Alpha thinks, and sighs when he remembers Fordo offered to take this one off his hands. It wasn’t worth committing the full strength of Fordo’s squad to this assignment - or so he initially thought. They hadn’t gotten word of hostile Force-users until Alpha reported his findings. 

He’d been unpleasantly surprised, to say the least.

Maul and Kenobi have history, if he remembers correctly. Kenobi hasn’t told him the half of it and Alpha really doesn’t care one way or another. He wouldn’t, if he had already devised his own method for killing someone who can very likely predict his every movement. 

Really, the only way to get one over on Maul would be to cut off his connection to the Force. There’s no way of doing that, as far as Alpha knows, so this op will require a fair share of ingenuity and a healthy disregard for conventional means of warfare. Some more time wouldn’t go amiss either, but Alpha will have to work with what he has. 

So he lets Maul find him. Draws him out now rather than exert energy that could very well be the deciding factor later. He can’t say for sure that Maul is surprised, exactly, but whatever flickers across his face doesn’t look like anger just yet. 

“I wasn’t expecting you,” the Sith says slowly, all acid sibilants. 

“I suppose you were hoping for Kenobi,” Alpha dismisses. “Tough luck.” 

Alpha can put up just as much of a fight as any Jetii, but letting Maul underestimate him could work to his advantage if he plays his cards right. If Kenobi’s teachings are true, the Sith use their anger to guide them. Alpha intends to use that against him.

“So he sent you in his place, is that it?” 

“The general couldn’t be bothered with the likes of you,” Alpha is more than happy to inform him. “He’s beaten you once already. Why waste energy proving it again?” 

That strikes a nerve. The Force might not be part of Alpha’s arsenal, but he can read the rage in Maul’s expression all the same. Better to tread cautiously now; provoke Maul too soon, and the force of his anger will be too much for Alpha to redirect.

The Sith is examining him closely. “You must be one of Kenobi’s, then.”

Alpha shrugs. “Not exactly, but for our purposes - you could say so.”

“You feel no loyalty to him?” Maul asks slyly like that will get under Alpha’s skin.

“Depends on the day.” Alpha lets his hand drift casually to his blaster. “If you’re looking for a fight, I’d be happy to fill in. Like I said, Kenobi couldn’t care less about - ”

True to his intuition, Maul’s first attack isn’t based in the Force. He’s faster than Alpha anticipated, but he manages to dodge the headlong strike. Maul pivots, and a double-bladed lightsaber appears in his hands.

Maul is fast - Alpha just has to be faster. 

Evasion isn’t Alpha’s usual style, but he recognizes the necessity given the threat he’s facing. It’s no use trying to get a round past Maul’s saber; it would likely be deflected back at him anyways. 

And there’s no way Alpha can pull this off if he and the Sith are on equal footing. But if he can make the environment work to his advantage - if he can force Maul onto the wrong foot and seize that opportunity when it arises - he just might have a chance. 

Still, Maul isn’t sloppy enough that an opening will appear without some coaxing on Alpha’s end. It’ll mean sacrificing discipline for whatever works in the moment, but he decides it’s justifiable given the payoff. 

Even as he stays in motion he’s careful not to expend more energy than is strictly necessary. It’s just as well Jango was never one for fancy footwork; Alpha doesn’t get caught up in anything of the sort now. Eventually, however, Maul catches on and pulls back, eyeing him. 

“Kenobi’s lessons weren’t lost on you, I see.”

Alpha lets him talk, mind racing all the while. The compound’s labyrinthine layout could give him an edge - he’ll just have to do what he can to avoid getting crossed up along the way. But there’ll be risks no matter what; it’s just a matter of choosing the approach that will leave him the most room to adapt.

Just as Maul begins another pass with his saber, Alpha sends a few well-placed shots towards the Sith's feet and makes a break for a doorway just off Maul’s left shoulder.

Something collides with the wall dangerously close to his head, aided by the Force. Alpha ducks away instinctively but doesn’t look back. The first corridor is narrow; the second opens up to a catwalk that overlooks a wide hangar several meters below. 

He doesn’t have time to plant charges around the doorframe. It’s a shame, really - even the Force wouldn’t reveal detonators. But no use lamenting what he can’t have; Maul isn’t far behind. 

Alpha doesn’t much like the thought of getting caught on the catwalk, either, but there’s no other route out of this section of the compound. At least it’s stable; he doesn’t like to think what could happen if he didn’t have secure footing. 

He’s nearly halfway across, just starting to think he might’ve pulled this off when something slams into him from behind and he’s plunging towards the hangar floor in an uncontrolled fall, fighting blind panic. 

It’s sheer dumb luck that his rappel line catches something solid. He clutches at the taut line, muscles shaking with exertion and a fresh wave of adrenaline. Regaining a clearheaded state of mind is a conscious effort made all the more difficult by the realization that for all the Sith underestimated him, it’s painfully clear that Alpha badly underestimated Maul. 

With the catwalk no longer an option - he’ll only be walking straight into the onslaught - Alpha draws a steadying breath and lets himself fall. The breath is knocked from his lungs when he hits the ground, but he manages to roll with the impact. 

One glance towards the catwalk confirms Maul intends to follow him. Before the Sith’s feet hit the floor, Alpha fires. Maul is nowhere near defenseless, but splitting his concentration between fending off Alpha’s attack and manipulating the Force is the closest he’ll get.

The first shot clips Maul’s shoulder; the second hits home center mass. Knocked back by the force of impact, Maul’s landing is graceless and uncoordinated. Alpha presses his advantage, aiming for vulnerable joints.

Another round sears Maul’s arm. He snarls and switches his blade to his other hand. Despite Alpha’s best efforts, a few more steps and he’ll be too close for comfort. 

Alpha risks a glance at the catwalk. After Maul’s attack, it’s unlikely it’ll hold up under additional strain. He still has a few detonators on hand, and given their positioning…

The explosion rocks the hangar. Shards of metal pepper the hangar floor, and the catwalk begins to buckle. Sheets of metal tear away and plummet to the ground.

Alpha throws himself aside, narrowly avoiding being crushed. Maul isn’t so lucky. Another section of the catwalk crashes down, and the Sith disappears beneath the metal. 

The hangar is oddly silent now; the ragged gasps seizing Alpha’s chest are suddenly deafening. He half expects Maul to explode out of the wreckage, enraged, but there’s no sign of movement. 

Time to pull out. 

Traveling to the nearest Republic outpost will take the better part of a day, but they’ve got reinforcements and his ride out of here. And if the rumors are to be believed, Fordo and his squad are just a star system away. Navigating through Separatist-infested territory will no doubt be slow going, but if he has to he can hold out until - 

And suddenly a vice tightens around his throat and he claws at his neck instinctively, his free hand scrabbling for a hold on his knife, lungs aching as he struggles to breathe, and Maul proves to be very much alive, looming over Alpha, lightsaber in hand once again.

Even as Alpha’s vision threatens to fade - he can’t breathe - it registers distantly that Maul is within arm’s length. There’s a knife sheathed on Alpha’s belt - there’s a slim chance he can - if he could just -

Maul steps closer. 

Alpha drives his knife up and in and doesn’t let go until it sinks to the hilt. Maul is howling, the hangar echoing with the animalistic scream, and the blur of red at the edge of Alpha’s vision streaks closer - 

And then the pressure on his neck abruptly loosens. He curls into himself instinctively, coughing as he struggles to draw air into his lungs. The telltale hum of lightsabers drowns out Maul’s snarling; Alpha can’t help thinking that at least if he dies here, he’ll die on his feet. Not the death he’d have preferred, but -

“Easy, Captain.” A gentle pressure on his shoulder accompanies the familiar voice, and Kenobi’s face comes into view. He’s smiling, somehow, as though he couldn’t be bothered with the ongoing duel behind him. Of course Skywalker is here too; where his Master goes, he goes. 

There’s a story behind that, no doubt, but Alpha has a feeling everything will be divulged in due time.

_____________

“Well, you certainly took your time, General,” Alpha grumbles with a halfhearted attempt at exasperation after Kenobi is done detailing exactly how he and his Padawan ended up here when they were expected at the Temple.

“We made a few detours along the way,” Kenobi answers, flashing his Padawan a wry look that suggests those detours were likely not by their design. 

Skywalker decidedly ignores his Master’s remark and instead says, “So now what?” 

Alpha sighs. “Maul escaped, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“And?”

“And you’re not going after him,” Kenobi declares, correctly interpreting the look on Skywalker’s face and the set of his shoulders.

“We don’t know what kind of reinforcements he might have,” Alpha points out. “Or where he is now, for that matter.”

“And some of us need medical attention,” Kenobi adds with a pointed look at Alpha. 

“It’s nothing serious,” Alpha says, more out of habit than anything as he knows full well his protests fall on deaf ears.

“Alpha...”

“I’ve had worse,” he insists. “Sir.”

“Humor me,” Kenobi says with enough of an edge to his voice that Alpha understands the words are not open for interpretation. “I’m sure this won’t be the last we see of him.”

“Do me a favor, then, General.”

“Oh?”

“Next time you run into him, knock his shebs to haran and back.”

Kenobi smiles. “I’ll see what I can do, Captain.”