#this stupid image has been in my head for like the past week. thank you eve for making a post that gives me an outlet

[dailyloopdeloop]

DAY 107(138): whatever

[leqonsluv3r]

valentine’s day

—leon finally starts to heal after he meets you in a grocery store, a blurb

masterlist taglist

an: i’ve had this idea in my head since i went to the LANY concert a month ago and heard this song live. i have not been the same person since, this drabble/blurb is dedicated to this song and leon. it’s a lot longer then i intended and i apologize lol

leon wasn’t one to heal easy.

not from his past, not from the missions when he saw more gore and blood then he wanted to. not when he had gagged every time he saw blood from that point foreword.

he was still healing when he walked into a grocery store about four months after his last mission. he was still healing when he grabbed one of those stupid baskets to carry your groceries in through the store.

he grabbed a couple bottles of alcohol, some snacks and some soap. essentials, things he needs. because sleeping without alcohol now is…it’s a lot harder then it used to be. just nightmares and images of bloodshed — he just says fuck it. he gets what he needs, what he wants and he goes up to the front of the store to pay.

what he doesn’t understand, when he sees you for the first time, is why your working in a grocery store of all places. your too beautiful for that, you should be doing something better, something worthy of your time. he doesn’t know a single thing about you yet and he’s willing to draw that conclusion.

you smile kindly at people from behind your register, your voice is kind and sweet. it draws something within him like a magnet, his heart is pounding, he’s going to explode or something. he used to be so good at talking to women but it’s declined as the years have gone by. he’s gotten tired, he just didn’t care like he used to.

he awkwardly sits his basket down on the conveyor belt of the register, you catch his eye and smile a little and it fucking does something to him. he knows he’s screwed beyond relief at that point. he smiles back, or tries to. he’s out of practice on that to, can’t remember the last time he’s smiled.

“this all for you?” you say softly, your eyes scanning over the bottles of alcohol, the snacks and the bottle of soap. he nods and chuckles a little, low and deep, just like his voice. “yeah, that’s all…” he grabs his wallet out of his back pocket of his jeans.

he wish he could say something better, something more positive and just something to grab your attention. he searches his brain as you tell him the total and he hands you the card. but he doesn’t have to say anything, you speak first.

“leon? that’s…you have a nice name.” you say and it snaps him out of his brain, he blinks those devastating blue eyes. ones that were once full of life, he nods. “my mom gave it to me.” he jokes lamely, or at least he thinks it’s lame until he hears your small little giggle.

he feels his heart beat with more confidence and energy now, like his one effort at making you smile is good enough. making you laugh is worth enough. you hand him his card back and put the receipt in the shopping bag, telling him to have a great day. not a nice day like you did with the others, but a great day. like you could tell he needed to hear that.

he walks out of the grocery store with the biggest, stupidest smile on his face. one that he has been a stranger to for months. he has you to thank for that.

the weeks that followed he came back to the grocery store, once maybe sometimes three times a week if he wasn’t sent off on a mission. he almost can’t help himself, he likes talking to you when your there.

you make him feel something he hadn’t felt in such a long time. it’s almost ridiculous, but he can’t help himself, it’s like an addiction. but it doesn’t involve him waking up with a hangover.

he keeps coming, week after week and buying things from the grocery store just to talk to you, just to see your sweet face. just to give him some kind of ray of sunshine that casts his whole body in a warm glow. making his heart beat faster.

but today was different, he was going to ask you out today. he was going to do it, he couldn’t be scared anymore. he couldn’t let you pass by anymore like something rare and just ignore you.

you were something to him. even if you didn’t even know that yet.

he walked up, carrying the same five things he always grabbed. his heart was pounding wildly, he was so out of practice but he just had to get out there and do it. just give himself something, he would hope you would say yes.

he put the items on the conveyor belt and waited until it was his turn, you finished checking out the customer in front of him and then turned to look at him. “hi stranger, haven’t seen you in awhile.” you say with a small frown, it’s adorable, it makes his heart melt.

he chuckles and shakes his head, “didn’t know you missed me.” he muses as he watches you start scanning his stuff. slowly and methodically almost as if you wanted this interaction to last longer too.

you sigh and shake your head, “of course i did, your my favorite customer.” you say with a small smile, and if he wasn’t looking so intently at you, he wouldn’t have noticed the subtle blush on your cheeks.

“i better be. goodness knows i give you guys enough business.” he chuckles playfully and flashes you a grin, almost as bright as the sun. he didn’t know where he was willing this confidence from, maybe it’s because he needed you. he needed you to at least attempt to be with him. you were the first light he has had in his life in a long time.

you scan his last item and he realizes it’s now or never, “26.73” you say as you lay out your hand for the card so he can pay. he reaches into his wallet and gives it to you, your fingers brush against each other. he wills himself to do it, to just do it now.

“uhm, i actually…i have a question for you.” he says with a small tremble of his hands, keeping his eyes on you to gauge your reaction behind the register. you look back up at him, swiping his card. “yeah?” you say and he could swear there’s almost hopefulness in your voice.

he swallows all the nerves down and attempts to keep himself calm enough to get this out, he can’t screw this up. he cannot screw you up, he would never forgive himself if he did.

“do you want to go out with me? like on a date?” he says and it’s so weird, the words feel foreign as they slipped from his mouth. usually women used to flock to him, but they didn’t anymore. his confidence with women had slipped right along with him trying to be sober all the time.

you blinked at him, holding onto his card in your small but intricate fingers. you seem to be thinking it over, weighing your options. he feels like the rejection is going to slip out of your lips at any given moment and he’s preparing himself for it.

then eventually, you respond, “i’d love to.”

now, it’s his turn to gawk and blink at you, almost perplexed that you are actually saying yes, accepting him and accepting this date. he can’t help the smile on his face, it’s almost stupid. you hand him the card and his brain goes on autopilot. you hand him the bag of his stuff, he grabs it and goes to walk away.

until, “wait! you forgot your receipt!” you yell behind him, holding up a slip of paper and waving it. he turns around and walks back to the register, his brows furrowed. you never gave him a receipt, he grabs the slip of paper from your fingers. he reads it over with confusion until he sees your number at the bottom, your hand writing and scribbles drawn with a little heart next to it.

he smiles, another genuine one that only you could conjure onto his face. “text me, we can set up a date.” you say to him, nodding towards the receipt. you look just as giddy as he feels inside. he nods, “absolutely. will do.”

he texts you the minute he gets home. and you respond. the texts keep going between you two until you both eventually settle on a date to go out. your both feeling like love-struck teenagers, so entranced with each other it’s almost borderline disgusting.

the week after you set the date passes and neither of you can hardly wait. you both have your reasons for being nervous, you both have that joy when you see each other but it shines in a different way. especially when he picks you up for your guy’s date.

you look stunning. stunning doesn’t even begin to cover it for him. you look like if heaven was a person, like an angel. that’s good enough reason for him to not let his blue eyes break from you all night.

and they don’t, they don’t ever break. not one second, he keeps his gaze on you at dinner, when your both talking and flirting aimlessly with each other. to leon, it feels good to have that someone; even if they don’t know it yet. that lights up their world and just makes it so much better.

he doesn’t break his gaze when you two walk by the lake, showing him all the birds and where they nest when winter comes closer. he admires the way you talk about small things, things that other people wouldn’t normally talk about or care about for that matter. but you took time, every week, to come feed the ducks and birds at this lake.

and he doesn’t break his gaze when he walks you back to your place, low intimate whispers that turn into slow kisses and touches. it doesn’t turn frantic, it just stays slow and gentle. it’s loving and it almost wants to make leon cry, because you care so much, this kiss just proves it.

because for the first time in a long time, you make him feel cared for. you make him feel wanted and it’s so much to him that he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

he wants you forever, he wants you as long as you let him have you. and he’s always going to take care of you, just like you’ve unknowingly taken care of him. taken the sadness away from him by just being in his life.

three months later, you and leon were dating.

you guys were the happiest people, it seemed you brought leon back from the edge. he opened up and you learned all you could about him. he got to learn more about you. and you both loved the idea of having that one confidant in each other.

the one you would have when you were sad, scared, angry, frustrated, etc. everything made sense with the two of you together. and you guys found that one piece that was missing within each of you. you guys were happy, leon was smiling a lot more then he usually did.

he didn’t drink his days away anymore, he didn’t come back from missions to an empty apartment and he didn’t have nightmares. it was still there but you dulled the ache, you filled that dark hole inside of him that had been gone for so long.

you made him happier, you made him recognize the man in the mirror again with your love. your love and everything about you made him better. he was better for you.

you had each other to soothe the gaps and ridges of your guys souls that were jagged. you had that thing that he was searching for, that he’d been missing for so long.

he loved you.

and nothing was ever going to change that.

an: i love you guys sm :,) thank you guys for reading my stuff and engaging. i was so worried when i started writing on tumblr that it wasn’t going to take. that no one would like my writing and i was wrong. you guys have given me so much support in liking my fics. it makes me so happy to have that support. it keeps me going. i love you all, i’ll be posting a one shot soon, keep up on my requests. pls reblog if you enjoyed, you guys know the drill. kisses, xx.

taglist: @elihii @heartsforvin @argreion @sqiim (to join the taglist DM me or interact with my link at the beginning)

[jahayla-parker]

do you mind doing a Kaz fic where she has had a crush a month before but is convinced it’s a lost cause bc he talks to inej a lot, but (PLOT TWIST) the reason he talks to inej is because he’s unsure if y/n likes him back? Angst with a happy ending?

-🍁

Lock and Key : Kaz Brekker x Reader

Descr: 4.5k wc, Reader and Kaz have unspoken feelings for each other. But Kaz’s attempts to work through what to do only cause misunderstandings and upsets. Until it all comes out and feelings are finally revealed. Hurt-comfort, angst-fluff.

Warnings: misunderstandings, SoC content. One curse word.

Notes: I’m SOOO sorry this took so long. It got lost in my requests!

Y/n sat on the edge of the roof kicking swinging legs back and forth. She bit into her bottom lip as she tried to keep herself calm; too many thoughts racing through her mind tonight. Needless, futile, stupid, jealous thoughts. She quickly released her lip from her teeth as she felt eyes on her. She scanned the skyline before relenting to who she’d assumed it was from the start and turned to look over her shoulder, “yes?”

Y/n watched as Inej made herself seen and slowly approached. That friendly smile of hers felt taunting in this moment. But y/n pasted one on herself before turning back to face the Ketterdam rooftops.

“Why are you out here this late?” Inej questioned softly as she carefully sat down beside y/n.

Y/n shrugged silently, not looking away from the skyline. She wasn’t going to let her off the hook that easily. When Inej wanted something, she got that thing. If only she hadn’t happened to want Kaz the way y/n did. But y/n refused to tell Inej that that was what had brought her out here tonight.

“Y/n, come on, everyone can tell you’re upset,” Inej remarked as the gray clouds above them began to drip rain onto the girls.

“I’m fine,” y/n retorted simply, briefly glancing at Inej’s side-profile.

Inej stared at y/n skeptically. “No one chooses to sit on a rooftop this late, in this weather, if they’re fine,” she argued.

“It wasn’t raining until you got here,” y/n pointed out with a shrug. Fitting. Her love life didn’t feel like it was going through a downpour until Inej entered the picture either. How ironic.

“I’m not just talking about tonight, y/n/n,” Inej sighed. “You’ve been distant and… sad.”

Inej had a point. Of course she did. Y/n had spent the last several weeks trying to distance herself from the crows. Well… from Kaz. And Inej. And mostly Kaz and Inej together. Which was occurring more often than not lately. The images from the last month played back in her mind yet again as if to remind her of her misery.

Y/n twirled the shiny coin around in between her pointer and middle finger as she practically bounced her way up the stairs to Kaz’s room, a smile on her face. She’d managed to trick some rich merchant into giving it to and she thought Kaz would love it. Maybe he’d even be proud of her for such an achievement. Although, truthfully she’d simply done it because she wanted him to have it thanks to the hopeless crush she’d developed a few weeks ago. Kaz didn’t date. Kaz didn’t look at anyone that way. Y/n included. But, maybe…

Y/n hummed to herself, knocking briefly on Kaz’s wooden door before letting herself in. She paused promptly upon realizing he wasn’t alone. Inej was here. Y/n swallowed thickly as she shifted her stance a bit. “I… umm.., sorry-,” she mumbled.

Inej stepped away from Kaz with a soft shake of her head as she smiled at y/n. “Hey y/n,” she greeted sweetly. “He’s all yours, I was just leaving,” she told the girl.

Y/n’s eyes nearly popped out of her head as her heart sank over Kaz’s immediate response to Inej’s words. His hand. He was… Kaz had reached out and gripped Inej’s wrist to stop her from leaving. He didn’t do that sorta thing. That wasn’t him. Yet, here he was. Doing that. Touching her. Inej. Y/n couldn’t help but stare at the hold Kaz had on Inej’s wrist. His gloves were on… but still.. he didn’t touch people. He didn’t react like that. So instinctual that he’d physically stop someone instead of using his words commands. He really didn’t want her to leave. She tore her eyes away from their hands only to find an equally, if not more, painful sight.

Kaz and Inej stood silently, staring at each other, no words exchanged but both wore meaningful expressions.

Y/n felt a lump in her throat as she tried to swallow. This wasn’t happening. She knew the chances of her crush being anything but a crush were slim. Especially given it was on Kaz. But… The one time she held romantic feelings for someone this happened? What’re the odds her crush would get over his trouble being open with people only to fall for someone else? Her hand holding the coin trembled lightly at her side as she analyzed Kaz’s face. He was stern and serious, but instead of his ever-present stoic expression, his eyes seemed to be…. They were almost… pleading. Ouch. She couldn’t make out Inej’s expression fully from this angle. But from what she could see, Inej held a tender gaze and a small but warm smile. Y/n squeezed her eyes shut tightly as if that would somehow make the sight before her disappear. “Umm..,” she cleared her throat, feeling as though she was interrupting… something. Something she wished she wasn’t happening. But it was. “I, sorry,” she repeated as she slowly opened her eyes. They finally stopped touching and were both now facing her. “I didn’t mean to…,” y/n shook her head, unable to say the words. “Anyways, I umm…,” she mumbled.

“Y/n,” Kaz spoke, his stoic expression back in place. “Out with it,” he instructed.

Hearing his gruff voice say her name in a moment like this hurt. But not as much as him ordering her to get on with it did. He didn’t want her here. She’d interrupted his time… his moment… with Inej. Inej was who he wanted to be speaking with, who he wanted to have present in the room now. Not y/n. “Right,” y/n creaked. “I just, I thought you might want this,” she explained, walking over to his desk. The coin clanged against the table top as she placed it down.

“Where..? Where did you g-,” Kaz began to ask as y/n stepped back from the desk.

“I made a deal with a merchant,” y/n shrugged, pretending it was nothing. In truth, it wasn’t nothing. It had taken her a week and a half to arrange and wasn’t the safest plan. But now… now it truly didn’t matter. In the end, maybe it was nothing.

Kaz scrutinized the rare coin from a distance, not having moved from the spot he was in when y/n first entered. As he looked up from his desk, he found she’d made her way to the door. He felt Inej watching him knowingly, but he didn’t know what to say. Why had y/n gotten this coin? And why had she given it to him? Had she done something she was trying to cover up? Or perhaps trying to get ahead of some mistake she might make later? Or…? No.

“It’s really shiny,” Inej commented with an encouraging smile.

“You don’t owe me anything,” Kaz spoke, picking up on Inej’s not-so-subtle hint to talk to y/n.

Y/n nodded, “I know”. She swallowed and turned her gaze away from the soft way Inej was looking at Kaz. “Goodnight”. It was a weird exit, but what else was she supposed to say after that?

—-

Y/n halted in the doorway, unconsciously stumbling backwards a bit. This was getting to be too much. First it was walking in on their moment. Then it was watching Inej go to his office every single night for the past week. But now this? She hadn’t realized she’d moved backwards, away from the scene before her until she felt her back bump into someone. She silently turned around. Nina. She offered her friend and fellow crow an apologetic expression, not having known she was behind her. She watched as Nina noticed the scene that was now behind y/n, her eyes widening with surprise before quickly narrowing in confusion. She couldn’t hear this. Nina loved gossip. She loved Nina. But she couldn’t bear to talk about the potential romance between Kaz and Inej. Before Nina could react further or comment, y/n side stepped her in the narrow hallway and quickly left the safe house. She made her way to the backside of the building and rested her back against the brick wall as her butt slid to the ground. Breathe. It’s fine. She has no claim to him anyways. It was an unrequited crush. Is. Not was. As much as she’d hoped the tortuous observations of the last week would break her crush, they didn’t. They just broke her instead.

—

“Y/n? You have to talk to someone about whatever is-” Inej’s voice pleaded, bringing y/n back to the present moment. A moment where y/n had ventured out of The Crow Club in hopes the cold air would relieve some of the ache in her chest from having witnessed her crush and his crush on what seemed like a date. Except now, to add to her never ending embarrassment and heartbreak, her crush’s crush was now questioning her as to what was troubling her. Saints she really has the worst luck. It hurt even more because she and Inej used to be close. She didn’t want to lose her friend. But every time she saw Inej now, it physically hurt. Hence why she was trying to distance herself from Kaz and her both. Until her heart had time to heal and move on.

Y/n shook her head.

Inej set a soft hand on y/n’s rain-soaked shoulder. “You know you can tell me anything,” she reminded the girl.

“No I can’t!” Y/n cried. Her eyes widened in shock over her outburst and she quickly slapped her hand over her mouth, ignoring the fact that due to it being rainy tiny grains from the roof’s shingles had transferred to her hand and were now poking her face.

“What?” Inej frowned. “Why not?” When she didn’t get a response, she sighed. “Please? If I did something wrong I’d like to fix it”.

Y/n felt a few guilty tears escape her eyes. She wiped the grains off her face before she lowered her hand back to the shingles under them. “You didn’t, Inej… I’m sorry,” she whimpered quietly, “you didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Then why can’t you talk to me?” Inej asked.

Y/n sighed. “I’m just… working through something,” she explained vaguely.

Inej nodded, “I’d like to help”.

“Inej… Thank you, truly,” y/n replied. “But, it’s not fair for me to talk to you about this”. Inej hadn’t done this intentionally. It wasn’t fair for y/n to be upset with her. Or to be upset about it at all. But she was.

“So it does involve me,” Inej interpreted. “Y/n, please just tell me, I know your heart, I know you won’t mean any malice with whatever it is…”

Y/n sighed. Maybe this is what it would take. Maybe this would help her accept the way things were. Maybe it would help her finally be able to move on. To have Inej back as a friend. To not have an ache in her chest every time she looked at Kaz. Maybe even to be happy for them finding love together. Oww. That one still stung. Maybe that one would take longer. It wasn’t fair to make Inej feel guilty for this. But perhaps by telling her, maybe Inej would adjust her behaviors so that it wasn’t so in her face. Not that Inej owed her that. And y/n could never dare ask for that. But Inej was caring. Maybe she’d offer to keep her and Kaz’s affairs more secret. At least until y/n moved on.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this… and please don’t tell anyone, especially him…,” y/n pleaded. She felt bad for asking Inej to keep a secret from her… boyfriend? Is that was she and Kaz were now? She shook the question off. “But, I… kinda sorta… may have developed a little bit of a crush on…” she mumbled slowly. “Kaz, and I know how insane that it is. I knew the even before I knew about you two. But now I feel even worse about it,” she rushed out as quickly as possible. “And I’m so sorry Inej! I-”.

“Wait..,” Inej interrupted, resting her palm on y/n’s shoulder. “Why are you apologizing to me for liking Kaz?” She asked.

“Because it’s not fair to you! And I would never act on it now that I know, I swear!” Y/n vowed.

“Now that you know what?” Inej questioned, choosing just one of the many questions she now had.

“Inej,” y/n sighed as she looked her way. “I know about you and Kaz,” she informed her. “And I’m happy for you, really! It’s just that right now-”.

Inej couldn’t help but giggle. “Sorry,” she apologized. “But I couldn’t help it. Y/n, there’s nothing between me and Kaz,” she promised.

Y/n gave Inej a look of frustration. “Inej,” she scolded.

“I swear on every single Saint out there, I have no feelings for Kaz and he has none for me,” Inej spoke softly.

Y/n looked away for a moment, contemplating the last month. “I’ve seen it,” she argued. Maybe they were both too clueless to see it themselves? Was she really now going to have to point out to Inej how Kaz saw her? How he’d unknowingly chosen her over y/n? The universe was cruel.

“What are you-,” Inej began.

“You’re always in his office. He doesn’t let many people do that Inej. Then there’s the way he’s always looking over at you randomly. The way he tended to your wounds after the fight with Marcello. It first dawned on me when I saw the way he reached for your hand to stop you from leaving when I came to give him that damn coin,” y/n rambled, facing the skyline so as to not let Inej see her tears.

Inej closed her eyes as she was hit with guilt. She hadn’t considered how those things looked. Her eyes opened upon hearing y/n try to stifle a sniffle. She promptly stood up and held her hand out for y/n who gazed up at her in confusion. “Trust me, please,” Inej requested.

Kaz’s eyes snapped to the window as y/n and Inej made their way back inside. His eyes scanned y/n’s appearance but stopped upon seeing her red eyes. He turned his gaze to Inej in question as the Wraith looked his way.

Inej sensed the way y/n tensed up beside her. No, No, No. It wasn’t like that. No wonder y/n thought Kaz liked her. He was looking at her a lot lately. But it wasn’t for the reasons y/n thought! She turned to her friend and gripped her hand tightly. She wordlessly made her way to Kaz, dragging the girl with her. She gave Kaz a knowing stare, “now”.

Inej noticed the way Kaz seemed reluctant. Still. After everything she’d tried to do to convince him the past month. She narrowed her eyes and gave him a look. “Kaz, I’m dead serious. You have to tell her,” she commanded in a whispered but sharp tone.

Y/n heard Inej’s whisper and tugged on the hand that was keeping her from fleeing. “Inej?” She asked, uncertain where this was going.

Inej faced y/n with a supportive smile and shook her head. “I promise, it’ll all be made clear”. Her head snapped to the left as she narrowed her eyes at Kaz. “Won’t it Kaz?”

Kaz squinted in confusion. He looked over at y/n, trying to ignore the way her reddened eyes made his chest hurt. “What is it that is unclear?”

Y/n rapidly shook her head as she stared at Inej.

Inej sighed. Y/n didn’t want her to say anything. But it would be in y/n’s best interest if Inej ignored those wishes. “I…,” she began, but stopped. Kaz needed to do this. He needed to be the one to tell her. She worked with him for a month on this. The misunderstandings that were troubling y/n couldn’t be for nothing. “Just…. Tell her. Now,” she ordered, squeezing y/n’s shoulder before quickly leaving. She shut the door behind her and sighed as she silently prayed to her Saints for Kaz to finally tell y/n.

“Kaz?” Y/n asked nervously as she turned back to him after having watched Inej abandon her here.

“I’ve been keeping something from you,” Kaz confessed, his anxious eyes scanning her every move as he tried to read her mind. He watched as she nodded. Did she already know? No. If she did she wouldn’t be standing here. But maybe that’s why she had been crying. No. Inej wouldn’t demand he tell her if she already knew. So why was she nodding? And why had she been crying?

“Sometimes I hate you,” Kaz told her.

“You hate me?”

This wasn’t how Inej had instructed him to tell her when they rehearsed earlier tonight. But if he had to do this now and not on his own time, when he knew for certain how y/n felt, then this was how it was going to go. Not like it would matter anyways. It was likely unrequited.

“Sometimes. You’ve ruined things”.

“I… I… didn’t mean to”.

“That’s just it y/n,” he sighed, punching the bridge of his nose. “It’s not even fair for me to hate you from time to time over this because you didn’t mean to do any it. You didn’t mean to drive me insane. You didn’t mean to make me break the one vow I made to myself…”

“I don’t…”

“I told myself I’d never let someone in,” Kaz explained. “And then, you….” He groaned. “I don’t know how you did it. And I know you didn’t mean to. So, I know you don’t feel the same. But that doesn’t mean I don’t despise the fact you managed to do this”.

“Do what?”

“Make me feel this way!” Kaz rose his voice.

She squinted. “What are you talking about?” “You’re mad I managed to make you hate me?” she asked, seeking clarification.

“No! Dammit,” Kaz scoffed. “I’m mad you made me feel.”

“Feel what?”

“Everything.”

“Wh…?”

“You made me feel, y/n. In general. But also things I had buried years ago, with the intent to never feel again. You made me feel and I hate it.”

“Are you…? No… You’re not… You’re not actually suggesting you have feelings for me, are you?” Y/n asked in offense. Would he really stoop to this level?

Kaz looked away from her, opting to stare at his windowsill instead.

“If you’re trying to do this to keep your relationship with Inej a secret you don’t have to, I won’t-”.

Kaz choked on his breath. “My what?! …with who?!”

“Kaz”.

“No,” he cut her off as he shook his head and stepped closer. “Is that…” he began. Unlikely. He was probably projecting by thinking it might have something to do with why she’s been distant. Frustration took over as he found his mind to be a mess of crossed wires and chaos. He’d tried to express his feelings to best he can but was still not successful in getting her to understand. He knew she might not feel same way but still, this was annoying. “I’m not trying to con anyone,” he said, voice coming out a bit angry from his disbelief. He’d just confessed his feelings and she was questioning his sincerity and intentions? “If I was trying to hide my… feelings.. would I have just admired that vulnerability to you?” He asked rhetorically.

“But… you…”

“What?”

“The looks”.

“Excuse me?” Kaz sighed. “Full sentences would be great, y/n”.

“I’ve seen the way you are with her,” y/n defended.

“Care to elaborate?” He asked, brow raised.

“First, there was when I came in to give you the-,” she paused as her eyes caught sight of the item in question. He kept it. He hadn’t sold it. And not only did he keep it, he had it on a cushioned pad on his desk. He never kept trinkets on his desk. Focus. “That coin,” she said bringing the conversation back. “I walked in on… Well I don’t really know but, I saw the way you didn’t want her to leave. I clearly interpreted something and you didn’t want me to see it but I could tell you didn’t want her to leave”.

Kaz hummed in understanding. “You did interpret something that night.” He ran his hands over the coin in question for a moment in silence before putting it back down. “And you’re right. You don’t know what it was.” He sighed as he felt his cheeks flush. “I had asked Inej to help me with a project”. When she nodded slowly, he hesitantly continued. “That’s all”.

“It was really important,” y/n recalled, picturing the way he’d actually grabbed for Inej’s wrist.

“It was.” Kaz swallowed. “I tasked her with finding out how you’d feel if I told you…. If we had this conversation,” he corrected.

“What about when you were fixing her cuts from the fight against-”

“Marcello?” Kaz asked for her, knowing he’d only done such a thing once and still felt weird about it. “She’d refused to answer my questions until her wounds were stitched”.

“What questions?”

“Why you seemed to be becoming more distant. If she’d told you despite swearing not to.”

Y/n nodded slowly as she tried to absorb and analyze the information. He noticed? He was worried about that? So much so he attended to Inej’s cuts in order to get the answers to those questions?

“This is what Inej meant by things needing to become clear, isn’t it?” Kaz asked.

Y/n nodded.

Kaz hummed, “anything else?”

“You keep looking over at her randomly.”

Kaz chuckled dryly. So much for the silent check ins being subtle. “It’s not random”.

“Right.. no, I know.. that’s-”.

“I…. I can handle most things on my own, but making conversation, being… friendly.., isn’t my forte.” He sighed. “Inej was also tasked with correcting me if I said or did something that… well.. might have upset you or be taken wrong”.

Y/n blinked slowly at Kaz in surprise. “You-… what?”

“Anything else?” Kaz echoed as he cleared his throat.

“Tonight…”

Kaz groaned. “Ironically, Inej was trying to persuade me into having this exact conversation with you”.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did she want you to have this conversation with me?”

Kaz was silent for a moment. “She claimed she was tired of trying to collect signs that this conversation would go well and threatened that if I didn’t have this conversation soon she’d tell you herself.” He bashfully looked away from her again.

“You… you went and did all of this… because you didn’t know how I’d react?”

Kaz nodded stiffly.

“I … I’m still not sure I understand,” y/n confessed. “And I really don’t want to misinterpret this cause I’ll say something I’ll probably die of embarrassment for saying if I do”. “So…,” she shook her head in confusion. “I know feelings are… new… for you Kaz, but… You’ve both stated you hate me and that you were willing to go through all of this because you needed to know how I’d react to you telling me i made you feel things… but that’s… well, confusing!”

“Sometimes I hate you because I don’t hate you. Because I can’t. I hate that I feel… anything. Because it’s pointless. I hate that I can’t do anything about the way I feel. I hate that I feel I have to tell you this. I hate that nothing will come of this. I hate what this means for you”.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m wretched, y/n. And so is the Barrel,” Kaz said as he shook his head. “If anyone else knew this.. what I’ve been trying to tell you… you’d be in danger”.

“Are you saying that… no… I need you to say it. What is it you’re saying Kaz?”

“Even though unrequited, my feelings for you could be harmful if word got out. So while you might wish to gossip about managing to make the Bastard of the Barrel feel, I don’t advise doing so outside of the crows, or with Jesper either, he’s rather loose lipped and if it gets out to the wrong people you might be in the line of fire and-,” Kaz rambled nervously.

“Kaz stop… you… you like me?”

“Yes,” he answered gruffly. “How many times do I need to say that?”

“Once Kaz. I needed you to say it once,” she sighed. “You said you hated me.”

“Sometimes”.

“Right, sometimes hate me”.

Kaz echoed her sigh. “I don’t actually hate you. Ever. I can’t. I hate that I can’t, but it’s true.”

“So you just… like me? But.., hate that you do?” Y/n questioned. When he nodded silently, she frowned. “Am I really that bad?”

“What?!” Kaz hissed, his sharp gaze snapping over to her.

“Is liking me so horrible?”

“No,” He answered as he moved closer. “Unfortunately it’s not. That’s the problem.”

“Then why do you hate that you like me?”

“I told myself I wouldn’t feel this way. For anyone. Ever.”

“What’s so bad about feeling this way for someone?”

“I told you y/n,” Kaz complained with a sigh. “Nothing can come of it,” he reminded her.

“So… even though you like me. And I….” She took a deep breath, still in disbelief she was going to admit it to his face. “Like you,” she finished. “And all this miscommunication is cleared up, you’re saying that-,”.

“What?” Kaz croaked, eyes locked on her.

“What?”

“What did you just say?”

“The miscommunication is cleared up,” y/n repeated. That wasn’t what he was referring to.

“Before that y/n,” Kaz amended.

“That I like you. I said I like you Kaz”.

It was silent in the room for a painfully long time before he spoke again. When he did, all Kaz said was, “you do..?”

Y/n laughed. “Yes Kaz, that’s why I was upset over you and Inej being-”

“Nothing, we’re nothing,” Kaz interrupted.

“I know,” she smiled, “now”.

Kaz nodded. “You like me,” he whispered.

“I do,” she acknowledged. “And you like me”.

“I do”. He nodded. “But y/n-”.

“No”.

“No?”

“We didn’t just talk through all of this for you to just go back to pretending that we didn’t,” she declared.

“Y/n, if the Dime Lions, or Pekka, or-”.

“I don’t care”

“I do,” Kaz stated sharply.

“I know,” she replied as she moved closer to him. “And I appreciate that. But you know I can defend myself”.

“Yes, but the risks are too-”

“That’s what we do isn’t it?” She asked. Upon seeing the confusion in his eyes, she explained, “we take risks.”

“Not with your life, y/n”.

“I’ve already tried to ignore the way I feel, and it doesn’t work. That’s not living, Kaz”.

“You’d still be alive,” he argued.

“I would be either way, Kaz. It doesn’t have to be so dramatic and black and white”.

When Kaz merely sighed, she shook her head. “If you don’t want to be with me for any other reason, then-”.

“That’s not it,” he nearly growled.

“Then stop resisting. You’re refusing to let yourself live because of the chance something could go wrong. But, that’s life Kaz,” she spoke softly.

“You want this? Knowing the risks?”

“I do.” She nodded. “We can keep it secret if that would make you feel better. I don’t care.”

“It would, but what if it-”

“If it gets out, we deal with it, then. Together. Deal Brekker?”

The edges of Kaz’s lips uncontrollably curled up. “The deal is the deal,” he conceded, already plotting ways to keep this development on lockdown with top level privacy.

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[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Another celebration ficlet request! The original ask for this one seems to have gotten deleted, and it was sent on anon, so I can't even tag the person who sent it in. 😫

I hope you still see this and enjoy, nonnie! 💖

Heaven's in the backseat

Rated: E

Words: 1,000

Tags: Mafia AU; Hitman Eddie Munson; Mob boss Dick Harrington; Mentions of Stommy; Knife play; Dubious consent; Obsessive behavior; Violent thoughts; Car sex; Eddie has anger management issues and Steve is a little slut

Notes: Previous part | Part 1

Eddie has just lit his first cigarette of the night when one of the waiters informs him that Mr. Harrington wants him outside. As he grinds the cigarette under his boot, he imagines doing the same thing to Dick’s stupid head. 

Working for a mob boss is so goddamn exhausting. 

A week where Eddie doesn't come close to kicking the proverbial bucket is a good week - especially now that Dick has been taking him along as a bodyguard more and more often. He’s not complaining about that, though. Occupational hazard. 

No, what’s really annoying is the damn black tie affairs. As if squeezing into a fucking suit wasn't enough, the social dynamics of the underworld are mind-numbingly complicated. All of the big mob families are either related or out to kill each other - more often than not both at the same time. It makes events such as this an interesting affair, to say the least. All night long, Eddie has been hovering at the edge of the room while the boss ate and drank and shook hands with other important farts. Always vigilant, always ready to pull his knife from its holster under his suit jacket. And now he can’t even step out for ten minutes to have a fucking smoke? 

The car is parked in the driveway when he arrives. Next to it are the boss himself and a swaying figure with disheveled chestnut hair wearing a rumpled suit. 

Eddie’s blood bubbles and his steps speed up.

“-fucking disgrace,” Harrington says just as he flies down the stairway leading to the car. “You’ll do anything for attention, won’t you?” 

Eddie doesn’t catch the slurred reply, but it must’ve been the wrong one, because Harrington slaps the boy across the face before wrestling him into the backseat. Eddie’s hand is already on the knife when the asshole turns. For a heartbeat, he revels in the temptation of lodging the blade right in the middle of that ugly face, but he reigns himself in. Too much security, too many witnesses. 

“My son is drunk,” Harrington says. “Drive him home.” 

Before Eddie has a chance to reply, he has stalked past him and back into the venue.

*

“What the hell took you so long?” 

Eddie casts a look into the rearview mirror to see the venue disappearing behind them and Steve straightening up in his seat. His voice is still slightly slurred, his eyes a bit unfocused - but he's nowhere near as drunk as he appeared seconds ago. Eddie's mouth tugs into a grin. 

“What, I don't get a thank you for driving you? Where are your manners, little nymph?” 

“Why should I thank you for doing your literal job?” Steve’s mirror image scoffs at him. His bottom lip is pink and a little puffy where his father slapped him. “And don't call me that.” 

“I'm a bodyguard, not a chauffeur,” Eddie says. “There's a difference, y’know?” 

“You're a dog,” Steve drawls. “You do whatever my dad tells you to.” 

Eddie’s hands tighten around the steering wheel. Steve’s mouth curls at the edges, but his eyes stay bored. 

“How about you?” Eddie asks, once he has blinked the crimson shadows from his vision. “What did you do to incur his wrath? Must’ve been pretty bad, if you feigned being so wasted he’d send you home like some misbehaving child.” 

“None of your business, is it?” Steve snaps. Then, after a second or two, the aloof facade slips back on and he shrugs. “He caught me in the bathroom with Hagan.” 

Something slithers low in Eddie’s gut, dangerous and deadly like a coil of venomous snakes. 

“What? That ugly, freckled fuckface? C’mon, you can do better than that.” 

Steve laughs, a sound like the edge of a knife - bright and pretty and sharp-edged. “Why do you care? You don’t own me. What is it to you if Tommy fucking Hagan shoves his cock up my-” 

He doesn’t get any further than that. Eddie pulls over to the side of the road and slams on the brakes. One fluid motion later, he has scaled the middle console and has Steve pinned on the backseat, wrists trapped over his head in a one-handed vice grip. 

“Oh, honey,” he murmurs, voice low and lethal. “But this is where you’re wrong, see? You are mine. And one of these days, I’m gonna make sure everyone knows it.” 

Those pretty eyes go wide as he slides the knife from its holster. The blade gleams, catching what little light there is in the dark car. With one flick of his wrist, he slices away the top button of Steve’s expensive shirt, revealing the long, graceful line of that neck. Steve exhales a shaky breath and his throat bops with it. 

“One of these days,” Eddie murmurs, trailing the tip of the blade over tan skin, leaving just the thinnest of red lines. “I’m gonna kill everyone who ever looked at you or touched you wrong and claim you as mine. Stuff you so full of my cock you forget about everyone else, until the only word you remember is my name. Carve my initials into that pretty skin of yours so nobody ever forgets who you belong to.” 

Steve looks up at him, eyes bright and hazy, and a little whimper falls from his perfect lips. He writhes deliciously in Eddie’s hold, and for a moment, Eddie thinks he’s scared, that he’s gonna plead for mercy. 

But then he slots his leg between Steve’s thighs to hold him in place and he feels it. He looks down at the boy in awed surprise and can’t help the grin that creeps over his face.

When Steve speaks, his voice is hoarse and breathy, but not from fear. 

“Do it, then,” he challenges, rolling his hips and grinding his hard cock against Eddie’s thigh. His lips strain to meet Eddie’s, breath warm and wet against his skin.  “Make me yours.” 

Eddie has never been so happy to obey in his life. 

Part 5

More celebration ficlets

[wolfiesmoon]

Irregular heartbeat

Riddle Rosehearts x gn!reader

We learned about disney in film class this week and my mind was infected by images of twst boys lmaoo this game is a disease

I've had a turbulent week but its finally time for the holidays which means.... more schoolwork because our school doesnt subscribe to mental health

Lately, Riddle has been unfocused in class. This is very much unlike him, and he realises this. For him, being this distracted is like a death sentence to his perfect test scores.

He needs to get to the bottom of this, and quick.

Classes are over for the day and he's returning to his dorm to check up on the rose maze. Soon, it will be time for an unbirthday party and he must make sure everything is progressing smoothly.

Especially the painting of the roses, which was started a little late this time.

Ace and Deuce ended up complaining to you about the workload and since you have nothing to do anyways you decided to join them in painting the roses. Grim opted out of it this time since he "has better things to do".

You hummed to yourself as you painted the first rose on a heart shaped bush by yourself.

"What are you doing here?" a strict voice stopped you in your tracks. You'd recognise that voice anywhere. You probably should have asked if it was fine for you to help out beforehand, but you've helped without his permission before, even if it was on account of a certain first year's stupidity.

"I was bored and Ace and Deuce were complaining, so I decided to join. Don't tell me you're mad about free labour from the good of my own heart?" you added the final spot of paint to the rose, pouting back at him dramatically.

"I am thankful for your help, I don't know why you would make such an accusation." And yet, he still looked pissed off for some reason.

You stepped off from the stepstool, moving closer to him and humming. "Then why do you look like an old grumpy persian cat right now?"

"What- I do not!" he defended himself, cheeks turning a little pink as he crossed his arms.

In reality, he's angry that you're doing more work than you have to. He knows how horrible it is to be overworked a little too well and he wants you to be well rested and happy under every circumstance, not helping out when you really don't need to.

"I'll paint the roses. Don't bother yourself. I am much faster because I can simply transform them with my magic anyways." He moved past you, stepping up on the stepstool (which was unnecessary since he can use magic from a distance).

He doesn't really know why, but he gets the urge to protect you sometimes. Even from a task like painting the roses.

"If you say sooo..." you sat down on the soft grass, watching Riddle paint rose after rose. You have to admit, the slight smile on his face is quite adorable.

You could get used to watching this.

"Hey! Get back here, you stupid weasel!" you heard Ace's voice from somewhere in the rose maze. Weasel...? There's only one weasel you know.

And sure enough, in a few seconds Grim was running past you with a mischevious look on his face and a magical pen in his mouth, which you presume belongs to Ace.

Seems he got bored of "all the better stuff he had to do" and decided to cause trouble for poor Ace again. You got up, trying to grab him but ultimately failed in doing so.

"Wait right there!" Riddle yelled after Grim, attempting to stop him with his magic but he was a moment too late with Grim dissapearing behind a corner.

A few moments after him, Ace came running around the corner. "Where did he go?!" he asked frantically, whipping his head around at all the paths where Grim could have gone.

"That way." you pointed casually, already used to their shenanigans.

Ace quickly ran past you, accidentally moving the stepstool in the process and making Riddle stumble and fall over.

You quickly caught him, softening his fall. Thank god you were standing so close to him.

"Wha..." he whispered, cheeks turning red again. What in the world is this feeling? It feels like his chest is tightening, but it feels... good? Being caught in your arms is strange.

"Are you okay?" you asked, concerned by the look on his face.

"I umm.... I am completely fine." Riddle cleared his throat, straightening up and taking a singular step away from you.

"Are you sure? Because you look pretty shaken up to me." you moved close to him again, inspecting his face up close.

"You must be doing that on purpose." he felt like his heart was about to explode out of his chest. Now that he thinks about it, this feeling is similar to the one he gets during class. The one he can't get rid of for the life of him.

"What do you mean?" you asked innocently. You really want to kiss his red cheeks right now, but with Riddle you never know if they're red from anger or... something else. You don't want to take any chances, but it's hard to hold back around him sometimes.

"Nevermind. Just do something about those two!" he huffed, turning his head away, face now completely red.

Oops, looks like you ended up painting the housewarden red instead of the roses.

[lowkeychenle]

You're Not Sorry [ZCL]

Content Warnings: This fic deals with infidelity and is very angsty. Please read with caution if infidelity can be a trigger for you.

Description: You and Chenle broke up two weeks ago. The first time he calls you at 3am, you ignore it. Then he calls again. You answer, and you go to him knowing there's nothing he could do to fix what he's broken.

Genre: Angst. All angst. Help. (but also I pride myself on my angst so maybe read it anyway???)

Word Count: 2,218

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x Reader (mentions of Mark at the end, mentions of the Dreamies throughout)

Juliet's Masterlist | Ask Me Anything/Requests

You haven’t heard from Chenle in two weeks. At first, you didn’t want to. Not after everything that happened and what he did. You were perfectly fine with never speaking to him again, but now that he’s been silent, you crave his presence even when you shouldn’t.

At the exact end of week two, your vibrating phone wakes you up at three in the morning. Rubbing your eyes, you sit up in bed and grab it. Chenle’s name sits in big letters on your screen, and at first, you’re not sure what to do. Your muscle memory demands you answer him, because it’s obviously important if he’s calling you at 3am, but you don’t want to go down the wrong path. You don’t want to risk forgiving him simply because you’re sad, hurt, and lonely.

Your palms sweat and your heart races as you continue to stare. When it fades to black again, you finally feel like you can breathe. You exhale shakily, suddenly wide awake at the intrusion of him. At that moment, you decide that you’ll answer if he calls a second time. If he does, it must be important. He could be in danger somewhere.

A minute passes. Two. You think you’re in the clear. It was another lame attempt to get you to talk to him, clearly. None of that matters. You can’t trust him anymore, no matter how much he insists he made a mistake.

3:03am comes around and your phone vibrates again. You grab it faster than you care to admit.

“What?” you snap.

He doesn’t say anything yet. You hear him breathing shakily, but that’s it.

“If you don’t tell me why you’re calling, I’m hanging up.”

“Please don’t.” His voice is fragile, thick. “Please.”

You don’t know where he’s at, but you can imagine. You imagine him in his bed, blinking past tears, staring at his ceiling as he yearns to have you next to him. But you didn’t ruin that image—he did. All of this is his fault.

“I love you,” he whispers.

“Did you need something?” you hiss, pushing the words past the lump in your throat. “Or did you call to make things harder for everyone?”

“Yeah,” he inhales sharply. “I…something happened with the car, and I’m just sitting on the side of the road. The managers don’t know I left, and if I call them, I’ll get in so much trouble—”

“Are you just now learning that your actions have consequences, Chenle?” You don’t mean to sound so harsh, because at the end of the day, you still love him. You love him way more than you should and way more than you want to.

“(Y/N), please.” He pauses.

“What about the boys?”

“You know why I can’t call them.”

Oh, right. They’re even more pissed at him than you are.

“It’s okay if you hate me,” he mutters. “It really is. I don’t blame you, but I need you. Don’t make me do this alone.”

Your heart twists so violently in your chest, you swear you feel a rib crack. Chenle, if nothing else, has always been good at making you feel. Whether it’s happiness, heartbreak, or hurt, you feel it.

“Damn it.” You shake your head, throwing your comforter off your lap. “Send me your location. I’ll come get you.”

“Thank you.” The relief in his voice sends another pang through you.

“Don’t get used to it. And don’t you dare ever do something stupid that I have to save you from again. Do you understand me?”

“Yeah. I won’t.”

You hang up on him while cursing under your breath. After all of this, you’re still going to help him?

Of course, you are.

He’s Chenle, and you’re you. Forever intertwined even when it breaks you into pieces to realize that. Soon enough, all that will be left is the one part of you attached to him—your heart. The rest of you will break down, disappear, but somehow, he’ll have your heart in his hand, squeezing it much too tightly for comfort.

Your phone vibrates once to indicate he sent you his location, and you pull on a pair of sweatpants and run a brush through your hair. Before you know it, you’re driving to the literal middle of nowhere at 3:30am to pick up your ex-boyfriend.

You see the familiar black SUV, the one with the blacked out windows and special license plate, and you park your car behind it. Taking one last deep breath, you stare as he climbs out of the driver’s seat.

Even though it’s only truly been a couple weeks, it seems as if it’s been years. Decades. And him looking exactly the same as the man you once knew has you shaking. You’re not sure what to say to him when he sits down in your passenger seat, but his beautiful brown gaze meets yours.

The lights are dim, but it’s enough to see the redness on his cheeks, in his eyes, at the tip of his nose. His jaw quivers at the sight of you, but that’s when the lights fade to black. The new moon isn’t even enough to give him a glimpse of you. Blue LEDs are all that’s left—the quiet glow bouncing off his skin and making him realer. He’s sitting right in front of you, a longing look on his face as if he’s not the one who fucked everything up in the first place.

“What the hell are you doing out at 3 in the morning?” you ask him, driving off.

“Couldn’t sleep.” He shrugs, hands fidgeting in his lap.

You spend the majority of the ride in complete silence. The radio is off, and all you hear is him trying to breathe normally. You’re not much better, either. You blink back tears, refusing to let him see how upset you are by all of this. If he loved you, he never would’ve done it in the first place. You have to remember that.

It’s not until you pull into his driveway that he speaks.

“They’re so mad at me.” He looks straight forward, neither of you brave enough to initiate eye contact.

“They should be. Deserve to be, actually. You didn’t just hurt me, you know.” You grip the steering wheel until your knuckles pale, wishing he would get out and go inside.

“I’m mad at them, too.” He wets his lips.

“You’re mad at them for what?” You scoff, anger bubbling in the pit of your stomach. “Mad because they caught you in the first place? Or mad because they all agreed to tell me?”

“It’s not any of their business.”

“Oh, right, so you’d never tell me. You’d let me continue to love you when you couldn’t be bothered to give me the same?” You’re not sure where your confidence is coming from. This is Chenle—the man you love, and someone you never imagined would put you in a situation like this.

“It was a mistake—”

“It doesn’t matter. It happened. You fucked up. They’re the best people, you know that? You’re pissed because all six of them are better than you. Because none of them would’ve ever stooped to the level you went. And because you hate the idea that someone else is able to comfort me. What did you expect? That they would comfort you?” Your grip tightens somehow, and you finally look at him.

He’s in tears. The liquid running down his cheeks reflects the luminescent blue, and it’s almost enough to make you feel bad for him.

“It wasn’t even once, either. It was twice. You did it twice.” You let out a throaty laugh, knowing this is the furthest thing from funny.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I never wanted to lose you, ever. We’re supposed to get married and have cute babies that look like you, and—”

“We don’t get to do those things anymore,” you snap, shaking your head.

“Do you hate me?” he whispers. “You should, but I can’t handle the thought of that.”

“Hate you.” You drop your head back on the seat. “I wish I could. I wish I could stop loving you because it hurts so fucking bad. You threw away everything, and for what?”

“I can do better.”

“You don’t get the opportunity.”

“Please. I know I can do this.” His eyes widen and his eyebrows furrow, truly pleading.

“Staying faithful shouldn’t be hard, Chenle.”

“I love you.” His voice doesn’t break. It shatters. “Baby, please.”

“If you love me, you’ll respect my decision. You’ll just leave.” You close your eyes, and a tear runs down your cheek.

He, instinctively, you assume, reaches up and swipes his thumb across your skin. “Life wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“Consequences,” you repeat. “Your actions have consequences.”

Regardless of what you should or shouldn’t do, you lean into his touch. Into the warmth his skin provides that you’re scared you’ll never feel from someone else ever again.

“I’m so sorry,” he says again. “I’ll never forgive myself for what I did, and you shouldn’t either. But please know I love you. I always have, and I always will.”

“Chenle,” you murmur.

“Yes?”

“Don’t call me anymore.” You gulp. “I won’t answer.”

You see the hurt play out on his face, but you know it’s only a fraction of what he put you through.

When he opens the door, the frigid air replaces him. A shiver runs through you, but you’re not sure if it’s from the cold or from the way it feels like your heart and soul are being ripped to shreds for a second time.

You thought he was the one. You thought he was perfect for you. Perfect in general.

You thought you didn’t deserve him, and it’s a damn shame that it took until now for you to realize it’s the other way around.

He stands in the driveway, illuminated by your headlights until you’re pulling away and driving off down the street. You watch him through your rearview mirror, holding your breath as he gets smaller and smaller.

As soon as he’s gone from your sight, a sob cracks open your chest. You scream and cry for all the things you lost, and you don’t even know where to go from here. You’re barely a mile away from Chenle’s when your phone starts ringing again.

Your chest still shakes from the pain, but you answer Mark’s call.

“Yeah?” You sniffle, aggressively wiping your eyes.

“What’s going on?” he asks quickly, voice laced with worry. “I swear, I was dead asleep and then I just…I woke up. And then I saw your location at Chenle’s, and I want to make sure you’re okay.”

You take a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m okay. He was stranded and called me for a ride home.”

Mark sighs. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). You should’ve called one of us.”

“I know.” You run your fingers through your hair. “I’ll be fine. I just need to go back to sleep.”

“Do you want to come here?” he offers. “You don’t have to be alone if you don’t want to be.”

You contemplate for a moment. When the boys sat you down to tell you what Chenle had done, Mark was the one who made sure you got home alright. He stayed with you for that one night to make sure Chenle didn’t show up after you broke things off.

“Can I do that?” you whisper, afraid your voice will break if you speak any louder.

“Of course,” he says. You hear him shuffle around in the background, presumably getting out of bed.

“Thank you,” you say, relieved. “It’s literally taking all of my strength not to turn around and go back to him.”

“Doesn’t matter what he thinks, you’re a part of us now, okay? We take care of our own,” Mark replies. “Just get here safe.”

You say your goodbyes and hang up, switching directions to find Mark and Haechan’s apartment. When you park your car in the lot, it takes a few minutes to work up the courage to get out.

And then you’re standing in front of the building, looking up to the fifth floor where you know they’re at. The air is so frigid, you can see your breath clouding around you. It sinks into your skin, into your bones, but for some reason, it’s the first time tonight that you feel you can breathe. As the chill sets in, so does reality. So does the truth.

A man who loves you won’t do the things Chenle did. He wouldn’t be defensive if his friends told you about it, and he certainly wouldn’t be calling you at 3am, crying and begging for help.

You inhale deeply, tasting the freezing cold as if it’s palpable.

It’s not going to be easy. In fact, it’ll probably be the hardest thing you’ve ever done, but this was the last straw. You don’t want to be in pain. Or feel unloved. You know you deserve more than that.

You promise yourself at that very moment that you’ll never allow yourself to go back.

You’re going to get over Zhong Chenle, even if it tears you to shreds in the process.

It can’t be worse than what he’s already done.

[nocturnalghoul]

Mushy May Day 8: First Time

Had a lot of thoughts about small dick Mountain being self-conscious about being intimate with some of the others cause everyone expects the big tall earth ghoul to have a giant dick, when in reality its pretty average, and it manifested into this. Zephyr helps the poor lad work past some of that during their first time together.

Hi @forlorn-crows remember when I said a random chunk of stuff about small dick Mounty in ya DMs like a week and a half ago? It’s a mushy may now :D (also thank you once again for organizing the whole Mushy May calendar!)

I'm forcing myself to try and keep my mushy may stuff short as a challenge to myself, but I’m (hopefully) going to be making this a proper full length explicit fic later on.

words: 1200

Rating: M (most of the actual sex itself is sort of skipped over but obviously there is still a lot of discussion and reference to it so just to be safe)

Read below the cut or on AO3 here

Of course Zephyr hears the rumors around the abbey, but they also know better than to listen to the gossip the siblings spread around. They love to snicker amongst themselves about the reportedly impressive package that the new gigantic earth ghoul was packing, saying that he was so reluctant to sleep with the siblings because he didn’t want to hurt them and other rather provocative images. 

It was interesting though, the few sisters who actually had a previous intimate encounter with Mountain seemed to always politely keep their mouths shut, keeping up an attitude that it’s nobody's business. He was rather shy with the ghouls too now that they thought about it, so the siblings stupid reasons had to be incorrect. 

No, Zephyr finally realizes, the other ghoul must be self-conscious about something for a yet to be revealed reason. It wasn’t a large concern though, with the way the two ghouls kept circling around one another it was only a matter of time before they would get to find out all for themself. There truly was no rush, they have always been a rather easy going ghoul, allowing life to carry them whichever way the wind may blow. They would never want to rush the earth ghoul in general, but especially into something he obviously has some apprehension about.

Only a week after that thought, it appears that the moment has arrived. After sneaky quick little make-out sessions all throughout the day whenever they would run into each other, Mountain finally invites the air ghoul to meet up in his chambers later that night after dinner. Zephyr can’t help the way his face quirks up into a small smile, his patience having finally proved worth it. 

Zephyr knocks on the door and laughs at the small surprised squeak he hears Mountain let out before he calls for them to come in. They feel the way their eyebrows shoot up when met with the already mostly naked earth ghoul and quickly step inside, taking care to lock the door. 

“I’m not running late, was I? Or are you just that excited, darling” Zephyr teases, moving to run a comforting hand along the already flustered earth ghoul’s arm. 

“More nervous than anything, and I didn’t want to have to spend time in my head about things while taking off unnecessary layers” Mountain spits out, looking intently at the floor. 

Zephyr places one hand on the earth ghoul’s chin, pressing lightly to encourage eye contact. “Mount, if you don’t want to-”

“No!” he interupts, a flash of worry coming across his face before looking up at the ceiling and chewing his lip.

“No what, little jade. No you don’t want to continue, or no you want to proceed?” Zephyr attempts to say as gently as possible, allowing their hand to slip upward, fingers combing through Mountain’s soft hair while they wait for him to figure out his answer. 

“I really do want to do this. I have for a while, I just… I don’t want you to be disappointed is all” 

“Nothing about you could ever disappoint me, Mountain. How about we start slow since you seem so worried.”

“Y-yeah, that sounds fine. It's not really that, it’s just- I know you have probably heard what all the siblings say and it’s not really true. I get why they assume that but it puts some pressure on me to bring something I don’t have, you know? It makes the first time with somebody feel like I’m going to let them down.” 

Zephyr has to stop themselves from immediately telling the other ghoul that his concerns are silly. To them, the alleged size of the earth ghouls dick was an irrelevant factor, but clearly this was the source of insecurity that had been causing Mountain to be distant when it came to intimacy with the other ghouls. While silly to Zephyr, that was not something that would make Mountain feel better. 

“I can tell that this is something that has been worrying you, little jade.” Zephyr starts softly after a moment's consideration. “All that matters to me is being here with you. I understand your trepidation, but please be assured that the drivel the siblings love to spout about the alleged size of your dick is far from the reason for my being here.”

They watch the way Mountain lets out a long breath, finally relaxing into the soft touches Zephyr has been supplying this entire time. 

“I know that I just-... I-... thank you for saying it I guess, Zeph” Mountain manages to mutter out. He seems to be letting go of some of that apprehension, but Zephyr can see the way his fangs dig into his bottom lip anxiously. 

“How about this, you finish undressing, and then lay down and let me take care of you okay? Let me put all those fears to rest.” 

Mountain nods quickly then takes a moment to fiddle with the band of his pants before removing them and laying back on the bed as requested. Zephyr does his best not to immediately look at the earth ghouls cock but with all the fuss about it they don’t manage to hold out long. It’s a little skinny, and overall rather average sized. He understands why everyone expects the earth ghoul to be equipped with something larger, but this is almost nicer, manageable.

The air ghoul quickly joins him, grabbing Mountain’s face in their hands softly, taking a moment to stroke their thumbs over his cheeks. They begin by kissing him on the nose before letting go and slowly working their way down whispering little praises into Mountain’s skin. 

Zephyr hums contently as he watches the other’s cock begin to fill out and harden as they continue their lazy path downwards, sucking beautiful little spots of color trailing across his sternum and down his chest. They can feel the way Mountain’s muscles jump beneath the skin everywhere they go and the deep rumble reverberating through his chest with each loud moan they manage to elicit from him. 

“Zeph, please” Mountain manages to choke out, and the air ghoul decides that the poor guy's cock has gone ignored long enough. 

“So lovely” the air ghoul whispers into the hollow of Mountain’s hip before shifting his attention like Mountain so sweetly asked. 

“Look at this beautiful sprouting sapling growing just for me, little jade. So perfect” Zephyr lilts. Mountain lets out an adorably strangled noise at the words. 

“Zeph, I need-” he attempts to begin, but Zephyr watches as the words slip away as they begin to mouth at his cock. 

The two hastily allow themselves to get lost in the whole affair, the earlier plan to start slowly and focus on Mountain mutually abandoned completely as they rapidly begin to paw at each other with incessant need. 

Afterwards as the two lay side by side fully exhausted, Zephyr is left somewhat speechless. “Unholy lord below do you know how to use that thing” are the only words that manage to slip out of his racing mind, the both of them bursting into uncontrollable fits of laughter at the outburst. 

Yeah, Zephyr thinks to himself, Mountain had nothing to be worried about.

[blooming-violets]

Sorry this is gonna be a bit of a rant since it’s something I’ve had strong feelings about since joining the AG/TASM fanfic part of the internet, and you’ve provided me a great opportunity to talk about it.

As a trans person, I am BEGGING fanfic writers to stop writing Marauders stuff. I’ve seen so many people defend it with “separate art from the artist” but like it or not they are still supporting JKR. Separating art from the artist only really works when the artist can’t profit from it. She has done SO MUCH harm to trans people and particularly trans youth in the UK and it’s so fucking disheartening and gives me such an ick when I see TASM writers also write for Marauders because it truly comes across as “I love and support the trans community except when it comes to this because I like it.”.

Even if you ignore the transphobia and holocaust denial (YES IM SERIOUS, she’s denied parts of the holocaust at LEAST twice and she literally did it a second time the other day), the original writing is so fucking problematic. Things just off the top of my head being;

The goblins being stereotypes of Jewish people

The fucking racism with characters like Cho Chang and Kingsley Shacklebolt

The last Fantastic Beasts movie’s plot literally being trying to make WW2 and the holocaust happen

This point needs to be taken with a grain of salt since this was some bullshit Joanne said after the books came out, but werewolves in the universe being meant to represent people with aids. Which is so fucking awful considering one of the two werewolves was attacked by the other as a CHILD

The most ironic part of this is that if Andrew is truly the person he presents himself as, he would probably fucking despise being associated with HP, even if it is just a fancast. But yeah all this to say fuck JKR, fuck Marauders fans but also thank you so much Katie for that last anon answer because I genuinely don’t see that enough in this corner of the internet.

Even Daniel Radcliffe, Harry Potter himself, has spoken out against her and continues to loudly support the LGBTQ+ communities. When your own beloved Harry doesn't even want to stand by your side, you should know you fucked up. Sadly, she does not, and instead leans harder into her bigotry and hatred.

I've always been someone who is very loud and opinionated when I see things that I disagree with, which I know can rub some people the wrong way, but fuck it. I don't like to whisper about my issues on the sidelines, I like to confront the problem head on by being very clear about where I stand and how I feel. I'm not gonna sit around and let someone align me with JKR just because I'm writing a stupid werewolf and Peter Parker fic that exactly 5 people are reading lol. It's not even a popular fic like get out of my asks jfc. Esp when I can tell this person has not read a single sentence of my story and is completely basing their judgements on my header image of AG's face next to a wolf gif.

In this past week I have seen both a Steven Harrington werewolf au and a Daredevil werewolf au cross my dash. Do we think they're getting called out for supporting HP?? No. Because their actors weren't "fan casted" as something years ago. Fan casts don't even mean anything! There was never a movie about them. AG was never casted or played this role. It's literally nothing but a bunch of fans agreeing that they like his look for a fictional character.

Anyway, I'm also ranting back at you haha. You can rant to me anytime. I love a good rant and I agree with you 100%.

Werewolves were not created by JKR. Andrew Garfield has nothing to do with Harry Potter. Don't make make snap judgments about a person's character based on a picture you saw. Support your trans community. Don't be dick.

And, if they actually read my werewolf au, they would see that it's literally about learning to overcome your own hatred and biases of people different from you and learning to love those you were taught to hate. Crazy concept, I know! 🙄😉

[pinkcherryblossomangel]

Away from myself

A follow up to AWAY FROM HOME

Bang Chan x reader

- it's eight months after the last chapter

- it's seven months since Y/N saw some nasty responses to rumours

- it's six months since she started spiralling

- five months since she stopped replying to his text

- four months since she stopped reading them

- three months since he stopped messaging

- two months since she stopped sleeping properly

- one day till she has to see him again.

STARING

Bang Chan

Han

Changbin

Y/N

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

TRIGGER WARNINGS

Depression

NSFW

Negative body image

Anxiety

Self-hatred

General poor mental health

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

His hand reaches up, grabbing mine out of his hair. Our finger interlock as he continues to explore.

My breath hitches at every change in direction.

The vibration of his giggles adding to the build up.

I glance down and see the smirk in his eyes.

The intense connection pushing me towards ~

I lurch awake. Panting, as sweat trickles down my back and forehead.

That didn't happen...

I wanted it more than anything, but that didn't happen.

I tear away my duvet and head to the bathroom. Walking down the dark hallway I know better than the back of my hand. It's been six months since I last spoke to Chris. And 3 months since he stopped trying to contact me.

Why do I always do this?

I always ruin everything good.

The cold water on my hands grounds me. The sensation reminding that this is what is real. The girl in the mirror is me. She is here. I am here.

"You okay sweetheart" my mums voice adds to the dawn birds song.

"Yeah just.."

"A bad dream?" She asks standing in the doorway. How do I answer this? Cause no. It wasn't a bad dream. It was an incredible one. One that reminded me of how utterly stupid I am.

"Yeah".

"Come here!" My mums embrace envelopes me in comfort. "Remember those bad dreams aren't really my love." I know that's the problem "and if they were I'd fight them off for you". She pinches my cheek like she did when I was a baby.

How can someone so full of love have made me?

"Now get back to sleep. Big day tomorrow!" Her excitement making me feel guilty for my lack.

"Do I have to go?!" I almost plead. She brushes my hair from my face.

"Y/N... my love yes. Yes you have to go! In two days time we will be in London. On a red carpet, at the premiere of your first every big film." The pride radiates off her. "My little girl" her eyes start to well, my follow in response. "Look at you living your dream! Being my little star!"

"I'm taller than you" I laugh between sobs.

"You'll always be my little girl." She switches in to PA mode, "Now go to bed, the train to London is at 9. And you have a call with your manager at 8."

"Love you mum"

"Love you too." She hugs me again "now move I need the toilet!"

************************************

I beat my alarm by five minutes. My dad always said to set it 20 minutes before the scheduled arrival, so when you fall asleep, you don't miss your stop.

I guess he had some good advice after all.

My phones buzzes but it's not the alarm.

It's him.

It's Chris.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuckity.

Fuck.

I can't ignore him, tomorrow evening we'll be sat next to each other at the screening. Maybe I can ask Han to swap seats. Or is that too harsh? I just know that if his thigh touches mine...

Y/N, no. You can't do this. He deserves way better than you. Someone who could love him so much more than you can. You'll burden him. I love him too much to do that.

I'll check his message at the hotel. I pull my head phones and press shuffle.

Not now...

I haven't listen to them in months and now! The god damn universe hates me.

This will do. My eyes settle on the countryside flying past.

I need to be brave.

************************************

I thank the receptionist as she hands me the PR plan for the next two weeks.

First the London premiere, then to the La premiere and lastly off to Seoul for the Asian premiere. The 3racha soundtrack is highly anticipated there, so much so they changed to an even bigger venue than la.

From what I heard it will be worth the wait. Chan would come over to my room every night after filming to show me what they'd come up with. Each snippet better than the last.

Each night ending in a passionate embrace.

No.

Stop it.

I close my eyes as if that will make the images erase from my mind.

Shit his text. I can't just ignore it. Why am I hyping myself up to read a text? What is wrong with me. Jesus.

I chuck my phone on the couch next to the TV. What am I gonna say.

I'm sorry Chris, I didn't message you for 6 months because I saw one tweet about us being friends and how I'm a fat piece of shit and I started to spiral and haven't been able to look at any thing to do with stray kids since then!

Or maybe

I'm sorry Chris that I somehow tricked you into liking me in anyway possible, we should just pretend nothing ever happened between us. Pretend that everytime something good happens, it isn't immediately ruined because I can't tell him. And then i wallow in my own stupid self-pity.

Christ... he really dodged a bullet

Flopping down on the bed, i open the manila envelope to see who I'm paired with for the interviews. I'm guessing it'll be with Jack, my on screen boyfriend. Haven't spoken to him since we stopped filming. So that's another awkward re-meeting tomorrow.

But it's not Jack's name there. Or jenna or tash. No it's non of my fellow actors. It's the boys of 3racha.

I immediately dial my manager.

"Hey Julie, I just got my PR plan. It says I'm doing the press bracket with 3racha? I thought I'd be doing it with Jack? Or another actor?"

"Oh yes! I forgot to say this morning! Since there's been such buzz around the soundtrack, Ryan thought it'd be a great idea to have them in the interviews. And he said you got along so well he'd thought you enjoy it!" Of course he did. "Is everything good? Do you want me to ask if they can change it?"

"No its okay, I was just a bit surprised is all" I can't kick up a fuss. I don't want any drama. "I'll see you tomorrow Julie!

" Remember, your interviews start at 9 am. I'll be there at 11. And then 7pm it's the red carpet and at 9pm it's the screening."

"I know," I say, trying to emphasise how many times I've been over the plan. "I'll see you tomorrow. Thank you"

"Thank you Y/N! Now have a nice dinner and treat your mum to something nice!"

"Don't worry I will". I hang up.

I need to text chan back.

I am not ready.

Someone knocks at the door. I open it and he's there.

Christopher is there in front of me.

I can't control myself. I burst into tears.

"I guess we're hotel neighbours again" he smiles sadly.

[ama-the-weeb]

HONGICE WEEK DAY 2!!! Prompts: Modern Day Nationverse / Historical. I went for Nationverse because I had a more solid idea for it. Fic under cut! (@hongiceweek)

If there was one thing nearly all nations could agree upon, it would be that the meetings are absolutely boring. Well, that’s what Hong Kong thinks, anyway. The past few minutes of this world meeting have just been constant droning on and on about something he honestly couldn’t care less about.

Hiding his phone under the table, Hong Kong scrolls through various social media sites. Anything to give him some relief from the utterly boring meeting. Suddenly, a notification appears: a text message from Iceland.

“I can see you scrolling from here,” it says. Hong Kong holds his breath to restrain a laugh. 

“Yeah, I am, this meeting is hella boring.” Hong texts back a reply.

“Set off a distraction if you can, then we can ditch this stupid meeting,” Iceland suggests via text.

“Great idea,” Hong Kong texts back. 

For a few moments, he sits there, plotting to himself. How will he go about derailing the meeting so bad that he can easily sneak out without getting noticed? He looks around. France is a few seats in front of him. France is dramatic, isn’t he? Say, if Hong Kong threw an eraser or something at him, he would freak out, wouldn’t he?

It’s a good plan, but Hong Kong doesn’t have anything to throw… Until he looks over to the person sitting next to him. China has a tiny eraser sitting just within grabbing range. Hong quickly looks at China; he is spacing the hell out. 

As fast as he possibly can, Hong Kong grabs the eraser and throws it at France as subtly as he possibly can. The reaction is immediate as the eraser strikes France in the head. He gasps dramatically and starts yelling something in French before turning around and yelling at the poor nation who was directly behind him. The situation furtherly escalates due to the poor nation in question being none other than Italy Romano.

The on-going screaming match is a big enough distraction that Hong Kong finds that opening he needs to sneak out. Finally, he leaves the Meeting Hall of Boredom and comes face to face with Iceland, his best friend and crush. 

“Good one,” Iceland congratulates him, the smallest of smiles on his gorgeous and pale face.

“Thanks,” Hong Kong replies. “Now let’s get the hell outta here!”

With a nod, Iceland takes Hong Kong’s hand and they make their way out of the building. Hong Kong swears to himself to cherish this moment.

“So, where do you want to go?” Iceland asks as they walk down the sidewalk.

“I dunno,” Hong Kong mumbles.

Iceland sighs and awkwardly lets go of Hong Kong’s hand, his face flushing a light pink color. 

“I’m gonna check my phone and see if there’s anywhere cool nearby,” Hong Kong comments, pulling out his phone and ignoring the several text messages from his old man China. 

“Find anything?” Iceland asks after a few moments of silence. 

“There’s a park nearby, we can go and enjoy the nice weather there.”

“That sounds nice.” Iceland smiles, and Hong Kong makes an effort to burn the image into his memory.

The two of them then make their way to that park, Hong Kong guiding them and noting every turn they have to take to get there. They chat about nothing particularly important and make fun of the funny things they picked out from the boring meeting. They eventually get to the park after about 10 minutes, but it doesn’t feel like it.

“And here we are,” Hong Kong says, dragging Iceland with him into this beautiful park. 

“Wow.” Iceland sighs. “It’s really pretty.”

Hong Kong has to stop himself from saying “Just like you.”

The both of them find a nice bench to sit on. They chat and simply enjoy each other’s company.

“I’m glad we ditched the meeting together,” Iceland comments.

“Me too,” Hong Kong replies.

Their time together is interrupted by the sound of Iceland’s phone going off. He picks it up and visibly winces. After a couple of moments, he hangs up and sets his phone down. 

“That was Nore,” Iceland mumbles. “He’s mad because I vanished. We should head back now.”

“Yeah,” Hong Kong mumbles back, not wanting this moment to end just yet. “Wanna hang out more after the meeting?”

“Yeah,” Iceland answers. “I would love that.”

[banannabethchase]

Set the World Alight: Chapter - Also on AO3

Matt and Mox's final high school semester continues, Nick begrudgingly acknowledges he has Actual Feelings, and technically, it's not a double date. It's not. It's just ice cream.

~

Heads up: a few characters misgender Matt, but it is due to Matt not having told them yet. There is also some discussion about making progress toward medically transitioning.

~

Saturday January 18th

Matt

“What?” she mumbles.

“Get up, kiddo,” her dad says. “You wanted me to get you up before I went fishing so that you had time to do your hair.”

Matt groans. “Why did I do that?”

“Because you wanted to,” her dad pauses and gets out his phone, “make sure you can prove to Britt you can braid your own hair.”

Matt blows hair out of her eyes from where it escaped from her nighttime bun. “You didn’t have to quote my text.”

“Oh, I did,” he says. He leans down and kisses her forehead. “Have a good time, little lady.” He grins.

It’d been a little hard over the past week, their dad getting used to seeing Matt as his daughter. He’d called Nick and Matt his little men for over a decade now. Matt doesn’t mind, though. She feels like the world is hers when he calls her his little lady. “I will.”

The positivity doesn’t last, though. “Stupid hair,” she grumbles, staring at herself in the mirror twenty minutes later. Something doesn’t connect when she looks at her reflection, her hands and hair and mirror image warring with each other to make the braid a tangled, unbalanced mess. Matt’s in the bathroom for an hour and on her fifth attempt when the door swings open.

“Oh my god!” Nick half squeaks. “Jeez, lock the door next time.”

She fights with the braid, bobby pins poking her mouth as she holds them between her teeth. “No.”

“You versus the braid again?” Nick groans, yawning. “Move. I gotta pee.”

“No!” Matt says, hip checking Nick into the wall. “I gotta get my braids done!”

“Well, that can wait, you asshole,” Nick says. Matt feels like he has an unfair advantage, as he has both arms and hers are tied up in her hair.

Nick pokes her in the ribs, right where she’s annoyingly tickish, and Matt stumbles outside the door.

“Hah! Deal!” Nick yells, and Matt practically falls out of the bathroom. She freezes, arms in the air, bobby pins between her lips.

“You suck,” Matt grumbles. She keeps twisting, though, determined to get a damned braid right for once, or at least finish this disaster, until Nick leaves the bathroom.

“Oh, hey,” he says, a little smile on his lips. “You did it.”

Matt perks up. “I did?”

She rushes to the bathroom and the bobby pins tumble from her mouth. “I did it!”

“Thank god,” Nick laughs. “Now I’m not stuck doing your braids for another week.”

Matt adds the hair tie at the end, checking for bumps. None. The braid is smooth enough, no infuriating missteps or incorrectly braided spots, and she quite possibly has beaten her white whale of early girlhood. “I did it,” she says, doing a little happy dance up on her toes.

“Yeah, cool, next time don’t complain about me interrupting your bathroom time,” Nick says.

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“I kicked you out and you did it right without the mirror.”

Matt groans. “I hate you.”

“You love me.”

Matt rolls her eyes. “Ugh. Only because I have to.”

They make it to school early, for once, but Mox is already there, concentrating as he spins a basketball on the tips of his fingers. He drops it when he sees Matt on her way over to him, which makes Matt’s heart do a weird little cartwheel.

“Matty!” he says, beaming at her. “Like the braid. Nick do it?”

Matt preens a little. “Nope. I did it.”

“Okay, well, I helped.”

“You kicked me out of the bathroom because you can’t control your bladder,” Matt shoots back. “That is not helping.”

Mox wrinkles his nose. “That – that is not a detail I need to know about my girlfriend’s brother, but cool.”

Matt can’t stop grinning. She’s somebody’s daughter, somebody’s sister, somebody’s girlfriend. It’s all a reflect that she’s her. They know she’s a girl. They know who she is, and she knows who she is.

She takes Mox’s hand and the three of them talk about school and the new semester as they make their way to the court.

“See you when you play,” Matt says, kissing Mox on the lips, then the cheek.

“What, I don’t get one?”

Nick’s clearly joking. She knows that. But Matt leans over and plants a firm kiss to his cheek, trying to be as annoying as humanly possible.

“Ew!”

“You asked for a kiss,” Matt says, shrugging. She tries to be as prissy as possible as she flips her braid over her shoulder.

Cole comes over, hair already drenched, for reasons Matt doesn’t understand. “If they get a kiss for luck, do I get one?”

“Oh, it’s not for luck,” Matt explains. “I’m just being annoying.”

Cole pouts.

“Okay, well, don’t do that,” Matt says, rolling her eyes. “If I kiss him on the cheek, is anybody gonna freak out?”

Mox looks behind him then back to Matt. “Me? No. I mean, if you lay a big one on his lips, yeah, it’ll be weird. But if it’s that weird thing you just gave to Nick I just think it’ll be funny.”

Matt leans over and kisses Cole gently on his cheek. “There. Kiss for luck.”

Cole beams at her. “I’m gonna need it!” and he jogs off.

“This better not become a thing,” Nick insists. “You are not, like, the good luck charm for the team.”

Matt grins. “Wanna bet?”

~

Matt should have bet on it, because Mox, Nick, and Cole play an incredible game, sinking shots like they’re in the last minutes of a championship game.

“You!” Jamie says, stomping over to Matt when she’s been subbed out for missing three shots in a row. Not that Matt noticed. Or would ever be stupid enough to comment on it. “Kiss.”

Matt blinks. “What?”

“You have some weird, magic lips,” she says. She half pats, half slaps her cheek. Britt, on the other side of Matt, looks baffled. “Kiss me, you lucky bitch.”

“What?!”

“It’s a lucky kiss,” Jamie says, huffing. Her bangs fluff up above her forehead. “Cole, Mox, and Nick told me that’s why they’re playing so well today.”

“I can guarantee, that’s not it.”

Jamie shrugs. “Prove it.”

Britt stares at her. “Are you okay?”

“No, because I’m sucking today, and I need any help I can get,” Jamie demands. “Matt. Please?”

Matt sighs. “Fine.” She leans in and presses a soft kiss to Jamie’s cheek.

“Cool,” says Jamie, lighting up. “Maybe now I’ll get some points.” She’s got the kind of grin on her face that makes Matt want to panic giggle. She doesn’t like Jamie, is the thing. She thought she did, for years. Matt had a whole sexuality crisis that Kenny and Adam had to help her through while Nick complained in the background, back in freshman year. But, now that she gets it, Jamie’s cool. Jamie’s the kind of girl Matt thinks she could be, with a little time.

Then she turns around and yanks Britt in for the kind of kiss Matt would feel weird about watching on television. She has to look away.

By the halftime, their team is up 24 points against a team who was undefeated before this game.

“You,” Nick says, “lucky charm.”

Matt shrugs. “I know.”

~

Nick

Nick is on his way back to the bench from saying hi to his parents when he catches the eye of one off the players from the year before.

“Eddie!” he says, clapping his hand and hugging him. “How are you?”

“Good, man, good.” He grins. “Figured I’d come back, see the boys in action.”

Nick turns to the person next to him. Green hair, a weird little pinched look on her face. “What’re you doing here?” Nick says, frowning. “You and Willow broke up.”

“We did,” Ruby says, and she won’t meet his eyes. “Look, give me a break.”

“She misses her girl,” Eddie says, elbowing Ruby.

“Do not!” Ruby says. “It’s not my fault she couldn’t deal with my new friends.”

“Your new friends are assholes,” Eddie says. “It’s a miracle me an’ Mox still tolerate you.”

“This feels like a conversation I could escape,” Nick mutters. “I’m gonna –”

Before he can run back to the player’s side of the court, the cheer music hits and Nick is trapped.

“Crap,” he sighs, and he plops down right next to Ruby. He feels like he’s betraying Willow by sitting near her ex. And then, he feels like he’s betraying Matt for talking to Matt’s best friend’s ex. He’s not comfortable, is the thing.

Matt comes out, giant grin on her face, and Nick exhales when he sees that she’s let Britt and Rebel do her makeup again, everything up to the nines.

“Matt looks,” Eddie says, “great. Really great.” He turns to Nick. “Mox bein’ good to him?”

Nick nods, eyes flicking around until they land on Adam, who is far up in the bleachers. He doesn’t even see that Nick’s on this side, with the way his eyes keep swapping from his homework to the court. “Yeah, he’s being good,” Nick mumbles.

Eddie barks out a laugh, almost louder than the music. “I doubt that.”

Nick turns back to the field in time to see Matt do the move that she’d been practicing on their trampoline in the back yard for two weeks. Double back handspring into a back tuck, landing in a split, bouncing her hips a little to the music.

She nails it. There’s no sign that her ankle, just a couple weeks before, was hurt.

“Shit,” Eddie says, “now I see why Mox likes him so much.”

“Okay, you don’t have to do that while I’m sitting here.”

“I’m just sayin’!” Eddie says, pointing. “Look at – Jesus!”

Nick fights the urge to kick Eddie. “Oh, my god.”

The whole team does either splits or some complicated dance move. Willow, Matt, and Riho do this complicated flippy thing to land on one foot, throw their legs up for high kicks then. Well, Nick’s not exactly sure what it is, but he does realize that looking at Willow’s butt feels like a big mistake with her ex girlfriend right next to him. But Willow is – she’s really hot, and Nick’s only a man, after all.

“I miss Willow,” Ruby says, so quiet it should probably be to herself.

Nick shakes himself out of his zoning out. “I would, too,” he mutters.

Ruby tilts her head. “What?”

Nick glances back up to Adam’s little perch. He’s got two books and his neck flashlight going now, but the books are flat on his lap as he watches Matt with a sweet little smile on his face. It’s a very different feeling than when he was looking at Willow, is the thing. It’s bigger. It’s blossoming. He’d been half hoping it would go away after admitting it to Matt and himself. Instead, it’s causing him to conjure up images of Adam smiling of him, of the times they’ve gotten a little too close, of what they could do if they got a little closer.

Stop it, Nick tells himself. Stop thinking about your best friend that way.

The cheer team finishes with Riho on top of this weird pyramid thing Matt’s explained to him a million times that Nick still doesn’t quite understand, and Nick makes sure he’s the loudest as he cheers.

“Got a crush on one of the girls?” Eddie asks, eyebrows raised.

“No,” Nick says, firmly. “Matt told me a long time ago they’re all off limits from my, quote, greasy fingers.”

“That’s kind of bitchy,” Ruby says.

“In that case, you don’t want to hear the stuff Matt says about you,” Nick says. “You should not have dumped Willow like you did.”

Ruby groans and drops her face into her hands. “Shut up,” she whines. “I don’t need a reminder, thanks.”

Nick high fives Matt as he jogs his way back over to the benches, ready to kick off the second half.

“Why were you talking to Ruby?” Matt asks, grabbing his hand and yanking him backwards. Nick stumbles. Matt forgets how strong she is sometimes. “She say anything about Willow?”

“Ow, let go, you Amazon,” Nick mutters under his breath.

Despite the fact it was supposed to be an insult, Matt practically glows. “Look, did she say anything?”

“Ruby misses her,” Nick says, glancing around to make sure nobody else is listening. “I think she’s regretting the whole…” He trails off, shrugging. “Well, you know.”

“Tell her she has to go through me, first,” Matt says, nose upturned. Nick fights a laugh.

“I don’t plan on talking to her again about that, but, if it comes up, I’ll say something.”

Before he knows what he’s doing, Nick glances back up into the stands. He meets Adam’s eye, and Adam waves at him, breaking into this massive grin that makes Nick feel warm all over.

Matt stares at his face, then follows his gaze.

“Oh, dude,” Matt says. “Are – what’s happening?” She grins. “Oh, you’re gonna – ”

Nick reaches out and yanks Matt’s ponytail, getting a massive shriek in response.

“Drama queen,” Nick mutters.

“I will annoy you about this later!” Matt says, and she jogs over to the rest of the cheerleaders.

“You always annoy me about everything!”

Nick’s slightly distracted for the second half of the game, but not enough to miss two three pointers and a two pointer, so he considers it a win. He gives Mox an assist for a layup, and Nick is pretty sure he could had heard Matt’s scream from the moon.

“Your girlfriend is super annoying,” Nick mutters as he and Mox bump chests.

Mox beams, then shoves Nick away. “Fuck off,” he laughs.

They play better now since Matt’s come out to Mox – it’s like knowing the truth about someone they both love has inadvertently brought them closer, made them real friends.

Their team wins, solidly, and Mox grabs Nick’s shoulders, shaking him with cheering. Nick’s about to say something, words he assumes would have been profound and smart and whatever, but then Matt comes barreling in from the cheerleader section. She leaps like gravity doesn’t apply to her, directly into Mox’s arms.

Nick is fully prepared to laugh like a maniac when Matt bounces off of Mox and falls to the floor, but Mox catches her and spins, kissing Matt so hard Nick has to look away to avoid getting weirded out.

He turns and runs straight into what feels like a brick wall. And steps back to feel hands steady his shoulders.

“Whoa! Hey!” Adam slides his hands down Nick’s arms. He shivers. “Great job!”

Nick stares up at Adam. And is suddenly struck over the head with it again. And again. And again.

“Yeah,” he says, grinning up at Adam. He can’t seem to catch his breath. “Thanks.”

Adam yanks him in, the hug enveloping more than usual.

“Oh, you don’t want to hug me,” Nick jokes, trying not to feel bad about pulling away, “I’m all sweaty.”

“I always want to hug you,” Adam says, in that serious tone, and Nick really wishes he could calm down this revelation he’s actually got a massive, unignorable, intense crush on his best friend. “Come on. Wanna get ice cream?”

“Sure,” Nick says. “We can invite – well. Maybe not Eddie and Ruby.”

Adam wrinkles his nose. Nick’s pretty sure he’s remembering trying to take care of Willow in between midterms, trying to help her study while she cried in the bathrooms. “Yeah. Better not. Mox, Matt, do you want to –”

Nick turns to see Mox and Matt practically face deep in each other.

“This is too much,” Nick says, voice higher than usual.

Adam puts his hand over Nick’s eyes. “I’ll shield you. I won’t let my – my best friend get harmed by the sight of his,” Adam checks to make sure it’s just the phone of them in earshot, “sister getting French kissed.”

Nick groans. “Why would you say it like that? Just – let me know if they stop making out, and we’ll ask them.”

Adam giggles. “I feel like that’ll be a while.”

~

Matt

“This is getting a bit excessive, you two.”

Matt pulls away from Mox and fights the urge to pout at Coach Rayne.

“Just congratulating my boyfriend,” Matt says. It’s undercut by the way she slides down Mox’s body before smoothing out her performance pants as she steadies herself. “That’s all.”

Coach Rayne raises a single eyebrow. “I would recommend you save that for home, boys.”

Mox squeezes Matt’s hand. Just like he always does. The reminder that, no matter how many times somebody calls Matt a boy, Mox knows the truth. About his girlfriend.

“Yes ma’am.” Mox adds a mock salute to it. “No kissing until we’re out of your sight.”

“I said home.”

“You can’t know the difference, right?” Matt says, doing a cartwheel over to pick up her bag from where Britt had dropped it.

“Thanks, Britty,” he calls.

“You’re welcome, Matty,” she singsongs back.

Mox grabs Matt’s gym bag and his backpack, throwing them over his shoulder.

“Grab my bag too,” Mox says. “I can get all three.”

“You don’t need to,” Matt says, trying not to blush.

“Of course I do.” Mox leans in. “I’ve got to be good to my girlfriend, right?”

Matt does a little happy dance. “Okay, fine, you can. But only because you used a secret weapon.”

Mox opens his mouth, closes his mouth. “I used a what?”

“You said girlfriend,” Matt says, grinning. “Like, that feels unfair. I have this big secret you can use on me whenever you want. It feels like you’re cheating.”

“I’m not cheating!” Mox says. “I’m being a good boyfriend. Supportive or whatever. Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do.”

“Can you two pleased do this in private?” Nick grumbles. “I am getting sick of watching the two of you being weird.”

“You guys want to go get ice cream?” Adam asks. “Nick would ask you, but he’s too busy being stupid.”

“Hey!”

Matt sighs, rolling her eyes. “Nicky, please be less stupid.”

“When did it become gang up on Nick time?” Nick whines. “Let’s – I just want ice cream.”

“We should go to Hayward’s,” Mox says, sliding his hand into Matt’s. “If the Jacksons are going to be normal, that is.”

“Wait, what did I do?”

Mox leans over and kisses Matt’s cheek. “Come on, baby, you know who you are.”

Matt argues and sputters the whole way to the parking lot, where Mox half shuts the door on her as she slides into the driver’s seat of her car.

“I am not riding with her,” Nick insists. His voice is muffled through the door, but Matt can understand every dumb word he says. “She’s going to complain the whole way.”

“I have some hay in the front seat, but you can push it away,” Adam says. He grabs Nick’s arm. “Come on.”

Matt feels a little smug as she watches the two of them walk away, and gets her car started before anyone can be annoying anymore. Mox scoots his truck up behind her sedan, a little closer than he really needs to be.

Matt calls him. “Get off my ass,” she giggles into the phone.

“I thought you liked it when I got too close to your ass,” Mox says. Matt can practically hear his grin.

“Not when it has to do with my car,” Matt says. She pulls out a little too quickly, making the right on the way to Haywards. “I’d rather you drive like a normal person.”

“I think you like me because I’m not a normal person,” Mox retorts. Matt checks the rear view mirror to see Mox’s truck far too close again.

“I like you best when you’re not about to cause an accident.”

“I am not!”

“If I hit the brakes right now, you’ll rear end me.” Matt hears Mox snicker on the other end of the line. “Not funny.”

“A little funny.”

Matt groans. “I’m hanging up before I break to make you destroy your truck,” she deadpans. “Bye. See you in, like, five minutes, you big ol’ weirdo.”

“See you soon!” Mox chirps, positive as always.

Matt rolls her eyes as she hangs up the phone and a Kim Petras song blares through the speakers. While fun, she has to admit it’s not quite as nice as Mox’s voice.

“Stupid boy being all cute,” she grumbles, taking the turn to Haywards. “It’s not fair.”

~

Nick

“Hey,” Nick says, resting a hand on Matt’s arm, “you’re going to do great, okay? Plus, you’re, like, two months from being eighteen. You’re almost an adult. It’ll be okay.”

Matt fiddles with her fingertips, her typical tell of discomfort. Mox wraps an arm around her shoulders, but doesn’t try to still her fingers. Nick thinks that makes him like Mox more. “No matter what happens, no matter what the doctor says, you’re still my girl,” he murmurs. It’s quiet enough that, maybe, Nick wasn’t supposed to hear it.

Matt nuzzles her face into Mox’s neck, like they’re not in front of a bunch of moms and toddlers and other kids from the high school, and Nick resists the urge to get closer to Adam. Strangely, Adam makes the move for him. Their thighs bump under the table. Nick shovels ice cream into his face in hopes it’ll cool him down.

“Will they be able to put you on estrogen right away?” Adam asks, hands curled around his cup of ice cream.

Matt shrugs. “I mean, this doctor is great, and Mom and Dad said they’ve got my back with whatever I want to do.” She shrugs, half curling into herself. But I don’t want to get my hopes up in case I’m not eligible.”

“You will be,” Mox says quietly. “But no matter what happens, I got you, okay?”

Matt nods, and the way she cuddles into Mox makes Nick shovel more ice cream into his face. But this time, it’s to prevent him from doing the same to Adam.

They eat their ice cream and transition their conversation to the upcoming final games of the season and Matt’s team’s end of the season competition, until it’s three o clock and their mom is texting them to come home and help with the laundry.

“I would come with,” Mox says, twirling the end of Matt’s loosened braid around his fingertips as they make their ways into the parking lot, “but I really don’t want to.”

Matt stands on her tiptoes and kisses Mox’s cheek. “I don’t blame you.”

“I’ll come,” Adam offers. “I don’t mind folding laundry, and my dad’s taking care of the goats today.”

Nick drives with Adam, who talks the entire time about Chevron and her babies. Nick likes it – he doesn’t have to think, or worry about steering the conversation to something less intense. He just has to listen.

Matt, Nick, and Adam are folding laundry, putting away dishes, and dusting for what feels like hours, but their mother rewards them with pizza and their dad made pie, so it’s not the worst afternoon in the world.

“You excited for Monday, Matty?” their dad asks before diving in for a giant bite of pizza.

Matt nods, cheerful but restrained. Nick’s not sure if he’s ever seen his sister like this before. “And nervous. I wasn’t expecting to get an appointment so soon, you know?”

“Sometimes these things just fall into place, kiddo,” their mom says, laying a hand over Matt’s. “The universe knew this is what you needed.”

[babypinkhearts]

mixed emotions at my thoughtlessness.

pairing: fushiguro megumi + fem!reader

summary: you love him. so you let him torture you further.

warnings: angst! megumi is complicated (what’s new), but comfort!!! the sweetest of sweet things. mentions of being emotionally unavailable.

a/n: inspired by the song “woman” by john lennon. one of my favorites, i definitely recommend you go listen :) i have been writing my heart out these past few weeks, i feel like it’s my biggest hyperfixation at the moment. thank you for all the love recently <3 i am so happy.

two knocks will do it.

or a third. megumi’s hand stills.

his eyes scan the scenery. the outdoor mat he recognizes too well on the floor, decorated with images of small woodland creatures. the hummingbirds gather around the greeting words in minimalistic font.

he finds it less welcoming than anything, his teeth chewing the inside of his cheek.

this was a stupid idea.

the sound of rustling comes from the other side of the door, and his careful eyes observe. he hears a click. the door opens, barely, and he’s able to briefly see your wide eyes.

megumi sticks his foot in the gap before you have a chance to slam it shut.

“what the fuck.” you deadpan, eyes now locked on the floor where megumi was now trespassing. the audacity. “dude, take a hint.”

fifty missed calls, all intentional. messages that haven’t even been opened clog your phone, and you had planned to keep it that way for much longer. yet megumi only straightens a little more, and stares.

“let me in.” he responds, gaze unrelenting. and sure, this wasn’t the reaction he wanted, but you seemed less upset than he imagined you’d be. “please.”

megumi kept that same stoic look on his face, despite his stomach feeling like it was being twisted in two — all anxious and troubling. his pride hurt. he wondered if he would have to start begging on his knees for your forgiveness, or maybe kiss your hands and write the most obnoxiously long love letter ever created. admittedly, for you, he’d let himself with no hesitation. how weak he had become.

narrowing your eyes at him, you give a few futile attempts to close the door, growing increasingly frustrated as he continues standing, relentless. he simply refused to budge.

megumi watches as your eyes instinctively shut tightly in annoyance, and he tests his luck, leaning just the tiniest further in.

“megumi—“ you sigh, running a hand down your face, exasperated. and there’s some hope megumi hears in your voice. you shut him down immediately, though, and shake your head without a second thought. “no. leave me alone.”

a part of you wants to add in — ‘like you have been’ — but you swallow the bitter sentence.

don’t fall in love with boys who don’t know how to love.

or, more importantly, don’t fall in love with boys who can’t love back.

it’s a treacherous battle, you’ve learned. megumi has always been abrasive, and those moments where empathy shines through have (without failure) been blocked by gloomy clouds before it’s able to reach you. he’s pretty in theory, but uncovering him has it’s ugly bits. he’s aware.

for a serene, peaceful moment, you think that megumi listens to you. he slowly turns to his side, and you expect him to walk down the patio steps and go back home.

but he stands there for a little too long, his foot still nudged in the crack stupidly made by your naivety. every rational (and ethical) thought seems to leave his mind as he finds himself forcing your door wide open.

“oh my god—” you exclaim, hands thrown in the air, mouth open in disbelief. you’ve backed up from the door, brows furrowed. “megumi, seriously, what the fuck!?”

dumbfounded, you watch as he simply lets himself inside, leaning back against the door to shut it. the ‘click!’ is audible with the deathly silence.

“it was cold.” is all he says, before swallowing thickly. “and i need you to stop ignoring me.”

yeah, he wished he had a better approach.

megumi was normally calculated and a lot more thoughtful. he’d weigh in pros and cons, analyzing everything to it’s minute detail. you were probably the only factor that could lead him into spontaneity.

you laugh a little. it’s a sound that comes out bitter, and lacks any real amusement. bewilderment, really. you can feel some ice crack, and megumi stills.

“what the fuck.” you repeat, quietly now. and it’s clear that you’re seething — all the animosity is clear on your face. this wasn’t like megumi at all. he was always patient, and he usually understood boundaries. enforced them, even.

you momentarily glance at him. he’s pleading with his eyes.

“please.”

megumi’s cheeks are flushed, he can feel it. the color comes from the freezing weather outside, and the sudden embarrassment that clouds his head. the realization of his actions, how he forced his way in. his eyes grow wide, alarmed and seemingly more sensible. he hastily turns to you, saying, “i’ll go back outside, i’m sorry, i just really need to —“

“you’re already inside.”

your hostility had yet to dissipate, and if you could think clearly enough, you’d be able to feel the burning sensation of your nails digging into your palms. this felt like a bad dream. but the desperation in his voice is almost unbearable to listen to, and there is the glimmer of the north star guiding you, naturally searching the idiot in front of you. like it always does. “whatever you say better be worth it.”

it’s mature, your resolve. let him talk, and then he can leave peacefully.

but, what did he want? closure? because you never got that. and you weren’t sure if you wanted it. it’s why your phone idly sits on your bedside table, constantly on do not disturb. for the mere purpose of avoiding him. and everything, really.

you come to a cruel realization that megumi would probably be the only person benefiting this sudden appearance. he could leave, and you’d still be left quite broken. mangled, at this point. no room for repair.

but you love him. so you let him torture you further.

megumi nods feverishly at your response, visibly relieved. “okay, okay, just give me a second.”

he looks small against the door. cowering into himself, fidgeting.

you raise a brow, tilting your head. “for what?”

yes, megumi had come all this way to see you without a single plan in mind.

spontaneity.

“i’m nervous.” megumi quickly replies, and while it isn’t a lie in the slightest, it isn’t the answer to your question. he doesn’t know how to say what he wants to tell you. he’s bad with words, bad with communicating, bad with you.

your hand impatiently beckons him, urging to spill whatever he seems so bothered by. “it’s okay. just get it over with.”

you make it sound too easy. it’s not that easy.

megumi’s hesitance is almost awkward, and you find an excuse to look around at everything in the room but him. your head hurt. every part of you was overwhelmed, the presence of your ex-boyfriend too unbearable to keep an unbothered act.

he looks the same, maybe a little more restless. you hope he had been sleeping well. two months without him, and yet you can’t seem to notice too much of a difference. the familiarity is comforting, in some weird, twisted way.

but, why come now? all the texts, the phone calls — all in one singular day.

bad things only start appearing once the past issues are nearly faded. salt rubbed into a healing wound.

you try to be optimistic and convince yourself that he doesn’t know how much he’s hurting you by being near you, but you know megumi. it’s not unlike him to be selfish. he’d already shown you that.

“megumi, it’s late. just—“

“i want you.”

and heat rises to your face, warm enough to mistake as a fever. every word is caught on your tongue, and it feels like the world caves in for a moment.

now, the anger returns. stronger than ever.

you hold so much resentment. it’s unhealthy for a person to feel what you have within the past two months. bitter, betrayed, and yet helplessly enamored. but now, you’re frustratingly confused. it makes you want to rip your hair out. why couldn’t this be normal? it’s barbaric, the way that agony doesn’t have a limit. you suppose you’ll stay with the ache forever.

“you-“ and your breath is shaking, eyes a little blurry in fury. you want the ground below you to split in half and swallow you whole. for the world to naturally end, mimicking the feeling in you that it already has. “fuck you, megumi.”

you’re scolding yourself, mentally screaming, because your chest stings as you watch him silently bow his head.

he’s not allowed to feel shitty. he ended things, and now he has the audacity to act hurt. as if two whole months haven’t passed by, and he isn’t here to remind you (cruelly, in person) how much heartbreak you’ve had to endure.

“why are you here?” your voice sounds so little, all bite manifested into exhaustion. because it’s taking everything in you to stand up straight. to not have your legs give out, and let him have you again. “why are you doing this?”

you’re blunt because you can’t drag it out for much longer. maybe you did need closure. you would like to think you deserved it.

megumi stiffens, and his hands instinctively find themselves in his pockets. it’s a habit you are well aware of, a part of you expecting waiting for it to happen. you know him like a book.

“…because i love you.”

he says it simply, as if it’s the answer to everything. the casualty of it makes you want to cry.

but you can’t remember him ever saying that before. and maybe that’s why your skin is suddenly wet, glistening with reminders of just how strongly you felt for this boy.

he awaits an answer, quietly. staring like he’s afraid he’s made the worst decision possible. it’s genuine, every word is more meaningful than you know, and he prays you know it.

but your head bows low, and you think he might be some form of evil.

“you’re being mean, megumi.”

and megumi knows he is. but the desire of you is too strong for him to handle. truthfully, he’s never doubted the intensity of what he feels for you. megumi is complicated, though.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry.” he mumbles, and it takes him all the willpower in the world to blink away his own emotions. because he’s not the one that should be hurting. “i’m sorry for all of it.”

after you’re accustomed, it’s hard to get rid of something. megumi doesn’t think he could live without you. it was a mistake to believe he could. endless weeks of just staring at remainders of you everywhere. walking by the aquarium where you had your first date, eyes never missing the shampoo you used to buy at the store. he still has a few shirts with the faint fragrance of your perfume. he can’t bring himself to wash them.

“i miss you.” his voice is strained, and he hopes again that you believe him. “you deserve everything, and i want to give you that.”

your arms are hugging your sides, and you’re painstakingly aware of the slow steps megumi has began to take towards you. they’re wary, but you know you don’t have the strength to step back.

“i love you.” he repeats, and you close your eyes tightly.

again, megumi is normally calculated. and thoughtful. his rashness settles, and he watches you carefully. you don’t stop him. a hand raises, and he wipes your tear-stained cheek, all warm with frustration and emotion. the touch is soft, and you really can’t remember him ever being this careful. his guard is down, his eyes are watering, and you can feel his hand shaking. vulnerability in megumi, as rare as it comes.

he always had trouble expressing his thoughts with you. you can’t blame him, because you know his past hasn’t been ideal. you always hated seeing him suffer in silence. nonetheless, you were patient. so sickeningly patient it made megumi’s stomach do flips.

it’s his biggest regret, telling you to leave him. all you ever tried to do was help.

“i thought,” he brings his head towards you, gently resting his forehead on yours. his hair tickles your face. you shiver. “i thought it’d be smart to end us. i never want to see you sad.”

megumi knows it was a double-edged sword. he ended up hurting you anyway, and himself in the process. too weak to overcome the natural human emotion that is love.

“i’m stupid, aren’t i?” and he chuckles, a regretful smile on his face. a few tears fall. “i’m so, so stupid.” he takes in a sharp breath.

he knew your breakup was a mistake the second he had watched your face fall. he was certain when you had walked out the door. you tend to realize just how great you had it after it’s already gone.

and you’re very forgiving. too good to him, megumi thinks, because he feels you nod against him.

“so stupid.” you affirm.

communication is something you can never hold against megumi. he struggles with it, and it’s why you’re so lenient. this, to see you, pour his heart out, and tell you he loves you, is him trying. him trying so incredibly hard.

you feel his body start to shake, and you wordlessly go back to your natural instinct, brushing his hair aside to place a tender kiss on his forehead.

“i love you, megumi.”

it’s an easy admission. you’ve expressed it dozens of times, and finally, those words can be heard back. this time, it’s muffled through your hair as he buries himself into your very being. the saying is repeated endlessly, and his grip tightens.

i love you.

it’s stability, and it’s delightful.

[captainswanapproved]

The Serpent's Conquest-Chapter 4

Summary:

Princess Jasmine has always been a thorn in Jafar’s side, but as her sixteenth birthday approaches, he begins to see her as an object of desire. The thought of possessing her is eminently satisfying, but even more delicious is forcing her to choose him. Jafar forms a plan to seduce the princess and seize the throne for himself, knowing with certainty that he will be victorious.

Notes:

Hi everyone. So I have a confession to make, the plans for this fic have been nearly blown to pieces. But, on the bright side, you will get more chapters. I have a vague idea of where I want to end it, but I'm also following the muse, and allowing the story to take shape on its own. With that said, I am going to continuously update the tags. You'll find that now I've added Jasmine/OC and Jasmine/Aladdin. It's a necessary evil. This chapter is certainly more rated M, and if my suspicions are correct, next chapter, things will get significantly darker and more worthy of the trigger warnings. It will also mark the end of Act 1 of this story. I hope you all will bear with me and enjoy the ride.

A03, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Strong, narrow fingers moved across the planes of Jasmine’s body. A thumb tweaked the tip of her breast, making her moan in satisfaction. The other hand made a slow yet exhilarating journey to the core of her being. She knew she was slick and ready, but ready for what she could not say.

Then two of his fingers pushed into her warm depths, curling sinfully, bringing her to the brink of some unfamiliar precipice. Lips molded against hers, swallowing her virginal mewling.

Her lover increased the pace and she arched herself to meet the tips of the skillful fingers. Heat built up inside of her, and she longed for a release from the burning. She dug her fingernails into the strong body above her, breaking the skin.

“So close,” Jasmine nearly whined, but close to what?

And then her pleasure crested, her release breaking over her heated body like a wave. She cried out a name, one she had only ever said with irritation or anger. Now it was like a benediction.

“Yes, my desert bloom, come apart for me. Soon enough I will take you as my own.” The voice was familiar, sinful, and deep.

Jasmine was desperate to know what would come next, but before she could find out—

Pounding broke the silence of Jasmine’s bedchamber. Someone was banging on her door.

“Princess! It is late. Prince Khaled will be here soon. You must look your best.”

“Go away,” Jasmine murmured sleepily, wishing to return to her dream.

“Princess!”

The desperation in her handmaiden’s voice finally fully roused her. “Enter, Dalia,” Jasmine called.

Her loyal handmaiden swung open the chamber door with great relief. “Princess, thank goodness. It is unlike you to sleep so late. We have little time to waste.”

Dalia bustled across the room to the wardrobe and withdrew a sky blue gown, decorated with gold and silver embroidery.

Jasmine reluctantly rose from her bed and allowed Dalia to strip away her sleepwear in favor of the gown.

“Princess, are you well? You seem flushed, and you were making noises in your sleep.”

“I was?” Jasmine asked, recalling the private images that had filled her dreams,

“You were. You can always confide in me. Has one of the suitors finally succeeded in catching your eye?” Dalia assessed her with womanly frankness, as if she was fully aware of the nature of Jasmine’s dreams.

“Of course not,” Jasmine sputtered. Rather, someone else had been haunting her dreams incessantly since her birthday, but in the past two weeks, the dreams had taken a more sensual turn, filling her head with the most shameful desires. Why in Allah’s name had her traitorous mind latched onto the Grand Vizier of all people?

She remembered his heated kiss in the alcove after the first council meeting she had been fortunate enough to attend.

I have no wish to have a stupid, uninformed girl for my wife and queen.

His words had haunted her for the past fourteen days. If that was truly Jafar’s scheme, then she would have to select a suitor before the snake could manage to manipulate her father into changing the law.

For she would never willingly walk down the aisle to meet Jafar. She could not wed a man she despised, even if his touch ignited something primal and powerful within her.

She was sure she could find a prince who could stir a similar feeling. And then she could publicly oust her father’s most trusted advisor.

“Princess,” Dalia said. “Why do you look so wretched? Has it truly been so awful, to meet princes from all over the Arabian kingdoms, to be courted and flattered?”

“They only flatter me because they want the throne. None of the suitors I have met thus far have cared for any aspect of me as a person. Not my mind, or my wit, or any other admirable trait instilled in me by my noble parents. All they see is a crown, and a vessel for their future sons.”

Dalia’s features softened with sympathy as she continued to style Jasmine’s voluminous tresses. “You will find someone deserving of you, Princess. You only have to keep an open mind and heart.”

“I will have to satisfy myself with an open book today, and pray that Prince Khaled is enlightened enough to believe that women should be allowed to improve themselves through the written word.” Though Jasmine did not hold out hope.

When Jasmine was deemed suitable to meet the prince, she grabbed one of the ancient tomes Jafar had sent to her mother’s study. Jasmine went to wait in the garden, where she always met with her suitors. She had insisted to her father that if she must meet with all the nobles in Arabia, she would do so in the place where she felt most at ease.

Jasmine perched at the edge of the fountain and opened the book. It was a history of the Sultans of Agrabah, detailing their trials and victories. She found it to be a stimulating and challenging read, so much so that she was tempted to thank Jafar, but she would not risk it. Once again, she had gone back to avoiding him.

This had been impossible to do during the three council meetings she had attended, as Jafar sat to her right. She had been wise enough to refrain from speaking, and therefore had spared herself from being pulled into curtained alcoves and scolded. . . among other things.

Jasmine spent the meetings trying to study each of the men of her father’s council, to discern their motives and loyalties. Admittedly she had yet to make much progress. The Minister of Finance still irked her. The Minister of Agriculture was a man of science and logic. The Minister of War was eager to spill the blood of Agrabah’s enemies. As for the others, she could not be certain. It would take more time to understand the royal council.

More often than not, Jasmine admired the commanding way Jafar led the council meetings, even when her father deigned to be present. As much as she hated to extend any compliment to the bastard, she had to admit that Jafar was a born statesman. Which shouldn’t have surprised her, knowing what she did of his background.

Jafar had been born in the slums of Agrabah. His staggering intellect at the age of ten had gained him a spot in the Arabian Royal Academy. Oh, how Jasmine used to long to attend that noble institution, to be taught the art of diplomacy.

But alas, she was a woman, and would only ever be the wife of a ruler, not a ruler in her own right.

Jafar had graduated top of his class at age twenty, serving on the councils of foreign sultans before he had finally made his way back to Agrabah fifteen years ago. He had risen to Grand Vizier quickly, favored by her father, and even by her mother, attaining the noble office after a mere three years of service. Jafar had been, at the age of twenty-eight, the youngest Grand Vizier appointed in the history of Agrabah. He had held the position ever since, and admittedly, it suited him well. Though now Jasmine knew Jafar had higher aspirations, and he meant to achieve them through her.

But she would never allow that to happen. No matter how capable Jafar was, he was still ruthless and vicious. If she were ever fool enough to put her faith in him, she would suffer the consequences.

Better to be rid of him when she became queen. The only sure way to dispose of a snake was to chop off its head.

And if a traitorous voice whispered that no other man could elicit such passion within her, she ignored it. Better to rule with a clear head and a manageable husband, rather than to risk playing with fire, only to be immolated later.

___________

Jafar was eminently satisfied with his progress in the past two weeks. Jasmine been impressively docile and attentive during the council meetings. He had spied her on several occasions with her nose in the ancient tomes he had provided her with; they were books of history, politics, and philosophy.

But by far the best indication of his success in regards to Jasmine, were the delicious noises of satisfaction she made as he dreamed of him. He could not help but conceal himself and wait by her chamber door each night, using his magic to listen to the happenings within. He heard as she moaned, and panted, and best of all, cried his name. He was certain that after a few more weeks of this delightful torment that she would come to him to seek satisfaction, and he, gentleman that he was, would give into her every amorous whim. It never occurred to him that he was getting ahead of himself.

It was not as though he could conduct his seduction of the princess as freely as he would have wished. The palace guards were loyal to him. He paid them in what truly mattered, gold. The Sultan only treated them with kindness, and as such, Jafar was ultimately in control of the palace guards. They would not reveal his dealings with the princess if they caught them in a compromising position. And Jasmine herself, for whatever reason, had not confided in her father about their heated encounter in the alcove.

It was yet another indication that in time, Jasmine would willingly agree to be his queen. He could wait for her hatred to fade, for her desire for him to peak. He was a patient man, and the jewel of Agrabah and the throne that accompanied her was well worth the waiting. But Jafar disliked having only one plan. He needed a Plan B, should his seduction not prove to be successful by the appointed time.

And so, Jafar returned to a quest he had long since abandoned. A quest for a magical lamp.

_______________

Prince Khaled of Potamia was unique among Jasmine’s suitors thus far, in that he arrived on an elegant chestnut stallion flanked by a small retinue.

He did not throw himself at her feet and insist that she was the most wonderous jewel in all of Arabia.

Instead, he bowed low over her hand and asked if she would honor him by showing him the palace gardens.

Jasmine was stunned, and nodded dumbly in acceptance. His hand was large and warm and he tucked her smaller hand in the crook of his arm and drew her to his side.

Rajah followed them as they weaved between trees and bushes and fountains. Every square foot of the garden had been immaculately and elegantly designed by Jasmine’s mother.

She found herself shyly admitting this to Khaled.

Prince Khaled gave her a sad smile. “She must have been a remarkable person to create such beauty. I am sorry that you lost her. I, too, know what it is like to have lost a mother. The pain never quite leaves you, does it?”

Jasmine shook her head, slightly awed by his sincerity. “I am sorry that you have suffered so, Prince Khaled. I would not wish such pain upon my worst enemy.”

“It is my hope, Princess, that we will be far from enemies, but let us begin with friendship.” Khaled flashed her a charming smile and Jasmine’s heart fluttered ever so slightly.

When they returned to the fountain, Prince Khaled saw the book Jasmine had been reading before his introduction. “You like to read?”

“I love to read,” Jasmine said, admittedly her love of the activity was rather nascent, but true nonetheless.

“I am impressed. Most princesses I’ve med are content to embroider, play an instrument, dance, and practice perfect etiquette. I look forward to knowing you better.”

“The feeling is entirely mutual,” Jasmine said.

They parted, somewhat reluctantly, so that they could both prepare for dinner. Jasmine hummed to herself as she walked back to her chambers. Today had not been a disaster after all. Perhaps Dalia had been correct when she told Jasmine to approach meeting suitors with an open heart. If Khaled continued to impress her, he would certainly be a prospect for her future husband and sultan.

And if a minuscule part of her whispered that the position was already occupied, the larger more rational part insisted that with a prince like Khaled at her side, she might have a chance at exacting her own influence over the kingdom, and she would most certainly thwart any schemes the Grand Vizier had.

________

The fool was touching what belonged to him. Jafar scowled into his wine goblet.

Jasmine’s laughter floated through the air. Jafar wanted to punish her for daring to play the coquette to one of her suitors.

It was true that Jafar had no legitimate claim upon Jasmine, but he knew, he knew, with every fiber of his being that she was meant to be his wife and queen. He had always been a possessive, jealous, and covetous man. If this nonsense continued, and the foolish prince became a legitimate rival, Jafar would have to dispose of him.

“Jafar, are you quite well?” The Sultan asked, tearing his eyes away from his smiling daughter.

Jafar kept his voice calm. “I am perfectly well, your highness. I am only suspicious of our guest.”

The Sultan raised a feathery brow. “Of Prince Khaled?” The Sultan kept his voice low, but Jafar doubted that either of the infatuated twits were paying them any mind. Jafar would take delight in punishing Jasmine as well, when the time came.

“He is a perfectly amiable and charming young man. He will be with us for a fortnight, longer if Jasmine consents to it.”

Jafar resisted the urge to scowl as Jasmine’s laughter rang through the room again. She was being an insipid little girl and he longed to throttle her. He would be sure to fill her dreams with possessive fantasies tonight. Then perhaps she would not dare to smile at the foolish prince of Potamia.

____________

Chains. Metal against stone. Terror. Punishment.

But for what, Jasmine did not know.

She was swathed in red, her abdomen bare, her chest barely covered. Cool metal rested on her right upper arm, ruby eyes glinted from the carving of a cobra.

Jasmine shivered hard, causing the chains at her wrists to vibrate.

The dungeon door creaked open, and Jasmine swallowed hard as Jafar entered. His dark eyes glimmered with menace, and his grip on her chin was bruising.  

“You are mine,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “Say it.”

“No,” Jasmine said.

The sound of flesh against flesh echoed in the room. Her cheek burned. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes.

His hands were on her neck now.

“Say it.”

“No.” Jasmine tried to fight back, but the grip tightened on her throat and she gasped for air.

Her harem pants were yanked down. Jafar forced her thighs apart. An unwelcome intrusion accompanied by pain.

“Say it. Say that you belong to me.”

“Never,” Jasmine sneered.

A third finger was added. The pace rough and punishing. The other hand gripped her thigh tightly, enough to bruise. “Say it.”

Jasmine could not protest, for a wave of pleasure rocked through her. And then he was pushing inside her, his hands moving to the sides of her head, caging her to him.

Jasmine wrapped her legs around his hips, her hips rising to meet his stroke for stroke. The heavy chains hit the stone wall over and over again. It was the most exquisite pain she had ever experienced, and though she knew she would scarcely be able to walk the next day, she didn’t want it to ever stop.  

“Say that you’re mine. That no other man will ever claim you.”

“No,” Jasmine protested, for she could still not submit. It would not be right.

Jasmine’s cries were swallowed by an intoxicating kiss. Pain. Her mouth filled with blood, her lip split by this kiss of the viper. She dug her nails into his back, intent upon drawing blood as well.

And then, he was spilling his seed into her. Jafar shuddered and clung to her. His voice was hard and dangerous as he whispered in her ear. “You are mine. You will never allow another man to claim you. If you do, you will suffer for your disloyalty. Now say it.”

“I am yours,” Jasmine said before she could stop herself, hating herself for breaking. The chains melted away. His arms wrapped tightly around her, and his lips claimed hers with ferocity..

A familiar voice--her own?-- pierced the haze of her dream. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Fight him. Or die trying.

“Jafar, no!” Jasmine cried, her eyes flying open. Her body was thrumming with arousal, demanding release.

She felt disgusting. This had gone far enough.

She would marry Prince Khaled at the end of his sojourn, if only to rid herself of Jafar and his maddening grip on her dreams.

The dream would not come to fruition. She was safe. She had to be. After all, Jafar was her father’s most trusted advisor. He would never dare harm her for fear of losing his head.

But Jasmine was too inexperienced to know how desire could corrupt and darken a man’s heart. She was too blind to realize that her choices could have painful and deadly consequences.

__________

The snake staff shattered into thousands of tiny pieces.

Jafar stared at the ground in disbelief. Perhaps he had gone too far, but his jealousy had been potent fuel for his magic. Jasmine was stronger than he ever would have imagined to resist its pull.

Her strength of will would have deterred a lesser man. But it only made Jafar more desperate to break her, to possess her. To win.

The games were over. The stakes now higher than ever.

[galaxystar17]

Okey. Well I don't usually write propaganda unless im hella invested in the ship (also its my first time writing such so bear with me🙈). And as you can see I AM HELLA INVESTED for once lmao This may be long and there might be some slight spoilers ahead. Thanks to anyone who will read this🫶

Yeah honestly at first I was surprised around a year ago while searching through the a3 rarepairs week tag on ao3. I remember finding like a few juligawa fics back then and being like 'wait a minute— july has ships?!'​ quickly followed by 'wait thats a thing now? Well okay lets see how the dynamic looks like'. I didnt expect them to grow on me so much that I would consider creating a fic for them but here I am.

So here I will give you some reasons that perhaps may show you why theyre worth giving a chance:

->the dynamic. The famous celebrity manager and a secret agent. It already spells chaos, doesnt it? One of them is a very nice guy, responsible, hardworking and always out there to help not only the kid that hes managing (Tenma) but also others. BUT that doesnt mean hes naïve or that he didnt experience anything. AND theres the secret agent dude. Mysterious, hella distrustful and blindly believing in the organization as his life purpose. The guy that will not step away from anything to complete his mission. Yet theres also an additional side to him. The side that hates the idea of any family whether by blood or a found one. July finds it pointless, meaningless, stupid and a waste of time. Why? Because he probably was horribly treated by his own (if he had one) and that made him believe that real family cant survive and the ties will break off anyways at some point. This is what he tried to prove to august as well. That idiot that was stubborn in his eyes, that traitor that chose a found family over the organizations values. Their shared values.

Then you may ask OKAY SO WHAT DOES THE DYNAMIC BRING ACTUALLY?

-> imho what the dynamic and situations they could find themselves in can bring would be some development. But not only feelings wise. Like yeah that too but besides that what i want to highlight is character development - specifically july's as I think he could actually learn more from igawa than vice versa.

For instance, as he would spend more and more time with our lovely manager and sometimes take care of/help Tenma he starts to actually look at the concept of a family differently. Slowly starts to realize what august meant back then with the whole found family thing. And most importantly that it wasnt useless, it wasnt stupid. That August, in the end, was actually right. Just July was too blinded by revenge for 'betrayal' that he couldnt see anything else.

-> redemption arc (of sorts) - i feel like after realizing his mistake in killing august without thinking it through and a good reason plus when he would finally get the whole family thing, July could regret his past actions. I mean I doubt he would quit his job, but at least I had this image in my head of gekka making peace with each other more or less, July apologizing to Chikage and Hisoka for the shit he put them through. And most importantly to August for killing him. Also had this image where all three of them sat down on a bench in mankai dorms and talked to/about august together. 😭

-> found family - Those two looking out for tenma like some two dads with a kid that theyre raising. Also the family would help july trust a bit more, would show him that he can rely on someone else and not always be alone. That families can stay strong through various hardships, if you try to keep up those bonds. He would see that there are people that truly care and love him regardless of what happened and welcome him with open arms as well as support him in his decisions. He could learn other ways to live than murder, spying and violence. He could grow as a person, become a better version of himself.

-> Angst material - im personally writing them a happy ending, but there has been quite a few of juligawa angsty fics which explore an interesting theme which is july's internal conflict of 'should i stay and possibly endanger them or should i leave to keep them safe?'. The latter option is what he chooses which does create angst as he mostly didnt explain anything about himself or whys he leaving and what has changed between him and Igawa. Sooo for all the angst lovers out there, theres some stuff for you :)

-> also the internal conflict of either choosing his beloved job or his found family is interesting to read about as well as the doubt he could have about if he can be accepted, if he truly deserves Igawa's love. If he truly deserves a family after he himself ruined one. THE ANGST YET AGAIN

-> beside the family thing, his feelings towards the manager would also play a role. I mean, maybe its just me but who doesnt like to see the cunning character one day realizing 'hey wtf i have feelings?!​ More importantly for him?' Those feelings specifically wouldnt allow him to leave Igawa and Tenma so easily as he planned. He got attached - something he knew he shouldnt have done, but it was already too late.

Sorry for the rambling. Im quite passionate about those two as you can see. Hope I convinced you at least a bit why they are actually worth checking out and voting for.

Round 1, Bracket 1, Side A, Eight poll

Art of Juligawa by @ryukogo

Ichie Otonashi and Fumi Yumeoji [Ichifumi], Revue Starlight ReLIVE vs July and Igawa [Juligawa], A3! Act Addict Actors

Story of Ichifumi by @insertbrowsinghere

This goes back to, specifically, May 16th of 2022. I was trying to get into the Revue Starlight mobile game, since there was apparently a lot of my other favorite ship from the franchise, Junnana, in it. The problem was that I was having the problem I always have with new games of its nature, that being difficulty getting attached to the new characters. So, I decided to look through their descriptions on the loading screen during a big update. Two characters caught my eye, those characters being the character Michiru, and, more importantly, Ichie.

I posted that I think she was going to take over my brain (I was right) and a pal of mine mentioned that she and Fumi were a little gay together. I responded that I hadn't seen them together and was awaiting to see them, but I didn't expect to love them together. I just expected to know that they existed. I was so very wrong and as I am currently gazing at the exact moment I learned of them as a couple while looking for the exact moment I fell in love with them, I can only laugh at old me.

Suddenly they were hitting all my ship dynamics and Ichie became a primary reason as to why Fumi is even in the main cast. Surely, though, they wouldn't grow on me that much, I thought. They were silly together, but there was only so much depth there, right? Not anything that would soon rot my brain, anyways. Boom, Ichie reassuring Fumi that she beloved her and Fumi seeking out Ichie when the performance department was shut down. Boom, heavy emotional reliance between the two which transcended their usual dynamic. Boom, the ducking "Selfie-Master's Seminar" memoir. That last one ruined my life so much and by that point, I was in too deep.

I pathetically added them to my bio alongside my other three main ships, turning that trio into a life-ruining quartet. I began hunting for cards with stories centered around them but it couldn't get worse, I told myself. Then came Arcania Arcadia chapter 3/main story chapter 15. This ruined me, and it was all because of the fucking Ichifumi revue. There were other reasons attached, but that revue destroyed me.

The not at all serious reveal that Fumi had been supporting Ichie's streaming silently and secretly. Ichie calling out Fumi on her glamorization of the idea of beauty in death, since she saw it as an excuse. Ichie telling Fumi that she wanted to know more about her. Ichie's wish to see a stage that Fumi alone formed, in a franchise where this kind of thing is just sort of a love confession most of the time. Ichie letting Fumi win out of trust in her and Fumi doubting if she was truly the victor. All the impact this had on Fumi later. I was dying at this point, and then this game decided to beat my corpse down a little more by putting in the later scene where they reflected on their revue, Fumi tried to apologize, Ichie told her not to and they both resolved to move forward together.

Another stab was taken at my corpse with the scene in the final chapter where Ichie finally got to see a stage belonging to Fumi, and got to hold pride in it. I realized then I was in too deep. The characters I originally only expected to ship a little if at all had ruined my life. I could do nothing about it. I still can't and I am still in Ichifumi hell. Help.

Story of Juligawa:

When twitter bots were still active there was this bot called the Cursed Prompt Guy (@a3_promptbot) that randomly generated prompts and characters together. One fateful day, it generated this prompt .

[ CHARACTERS: Tenma Sumeragi, July // PROMPT: Butterfly kiss, Loyalty ]

Ss you may notice there is no slash, meaning it's just the two characters, no ship whatsoever. this is important.

See the thing here is that the character, Tenma Sumeragi, is the son of two world-famous actors. He was a child actor for TV before he decided to choose his own path and become a theater actor (since A3! is about theater boys), being a child actor means he had a manager, right? Enter: Igawa.

I was staring at the prompt, and for an entire moment, I just randomly thought 'now why would July swear loyalty to Tenma Sumeragi?'. This thought was immediately followed by '... hmmm (goes on Twitter/Discord servers) hey guys how old is july/igawa again', and then my friends, indulgently, answered me on both platforms - they were within the age range of each other as respectable adults

And then I just SAT THERE because at that very moment my brain EXPLODED like I was JIMMY NEUTRON because this ship did NOT make sense at all and YET, AND YET EVERYTHING MADE SENSE in my head suddenly for some reason.

See the first doddle I made of them with a caption

And my friends were like 'AYO HOLD ON HOLD ON RYU ARE YOU OKAY' and all I said was smth like 'sometimes things happen' and then about five hours later I published the first fic for them on Ao3. Apparently i wrote the fic at 8-ish PM on the same day I made the first doodle (at 6PM) then finished the fic around 11-ish PM.

And then my friend who is one of my ride-or-dies also published a fic around 12 midnight soon after me. I think the majority of the English-speaking fandom/western fandom who knows us thinks we're kinda crazy. It's okay we just like to indulge.

[sunlightmurdock]

Trouble in Paradise | 0.8 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Previous Part | Next Part

Synopsis: After the most painful break-up of his life, Rooster is stationed in Hawaii for the next six months. Alone, away from home and hurting, he finds comfort in the arms of a stranger.

Warnings: no use of y/n, age gap (rooster is in his mid-30s, reader is in her early 20s), just some angst and plot building in this one guys x

…

Rooster chuckles softly to himself as he opens up the picture that he has just received. He shakes his head as he looks fondly over the image. It’s a picture of you in your living room, surrounded by a group of your friends, all of you grinning at the camera.

It’s someone’s birthday — he can’t remember who. He just finds it ridiculous that you’re dressed up so pretty with that huge boot strapped to your foot. Your crutches aren’t in the picture, since your arms are around two other girls and they’re somewhat supporting your weight.

Be good tonight, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do ;) — He texts back. He almost ends it with a gentle love you, forgetting that this isn’t Amy that he’s speaking to.

Oh shit. Amy.

He remembers suddenly that he has her on loud speaker and has been zoned out looking at your pretty face for the past thirty seconds.

“Yeah, I’m here, baby.” He breathes out. Amy’s smile falters on the other end of the line.

“I was just saying — I went to your parents’ graves today, made sure the flowers were fresh and looking good and everything. Talked to your Mom for a while.” Amy explains, settling into their bathtub at home. She has him on loud speaker too. She lifts her hand and looks at her engagement ring.

Rooster smiles. “You did?”

“Yeah. Talked about you mostly,” Amy explains, closing her eyes as she settles into the warm water. “How much I miss you being here with me.”

“I miss you too.” It falls from his lips easier than he would expect it to. He does miss her. He misses the grocery store trips and the home cooked meals and the sitting in the bathtub together after a long day at work.

“There was a really pretty sunset tonight. They would’ve loved it. You would’ve loved it.” He feels bad that she’s been thinking of him so much. Especially when if he’s being honest, she hasn’t crossed his mind much this past week. He loves her. Her misses her. It’ll all go back to normal once he’s home. But while he’s here, he just isn’t thinking straight.

“Thank you,” Bradley says softly, hoping that the guilt in his voice isn’t as obvious to her as it sounds to him. “You didn’t have to—“ He’s interrupted by obnoxiously loud knocking at his door. He ignores it, letting out a heavy sigh, “Sorry, ignore that, it’s just—“

The knocking continues. Bradley lifts his gaze to glare through his door, like that will make the jackass on the other side of it leave him alone.

“I’m sorry, baby,” He sighs softly toward the phone. Amy winces. “I think it’s Jake. I should make sure it’s not an emergency. Can I call you back?”

“Yeah, of course. I love you.”

“Love you too, baby. I’ll call you right back.” Bradley ends the call and slides the phone into his pocket as he strides toward the door. Jake almost hits Rooster in the face as the door swings unexpectedly open as he was about to knock again.

“Birdboy,” Jake grins, settling his arms back down by his sides. Rooster notices now that he isn’t alone. Berlin and a couple of the other guys are with him, all out of uniform. “Took you long enough to answer.”

“I was talking to my girl.” Rooster answers defensively.

Jake’s Cheshire Cat smile wides more as he leans in closer so that the other guys around him don’t hear, “Which one?”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Jake shrugs his stupid broad shoulders and smiles innocently. “But we’re going out for drinks and you’re coming with.”

Rooster’s eyes widen. Then he forces his features to settle again and shakes his head, “Nah, I’m busy. Maybe next time.” He has already started to close the door when Jake plants a palm on it and wedges it open.

“Not getting out of this one, Bradshaw. It’s Berlin’s birthday,” Jake explains, nodding towards their smiling colleague. “You have to come. You owe him a drink.”

Bradley offers an apologetic smile toward Berlin, “Sorry, guys. I promised I’d call her back.”

Jake wedges the door open more, “Call her tomorrow.”

Rooster clenches his jaw, “No.”

But, here he is, an hour later — standing in a bar in downtown Honolulu. He’s holding a pool cue and trying not to sweat through the shirt that he’s wearing. Not because of the heat, either.

He’s a couple of drinks in already. It’s the only way he’s going to get out of tonight alive. He said he would come for one drink, and that was over an hour ago.

Most of the guys are up at the bar doing shots, Rooster and Jake are playing a round of pool. It was Jake’s idea. Rooster still isn’t too keen on the idea of being alone with Hangman right now.

“Hi, Rooster.”

Rooster swallows hard as his hand clenches around the pool cue. Jake turns his head and looks at Rooster, lips quirking up into a smirk. Rooster feels that look burning into his side, and he knows that he’s burning red in response. He refuses to meet Jake’s gaze.

That’s the third twenty-something-year-old girl in a slutty dress and heels that’s done that in the past fifteen minutes. After pausing to look her up and down, Jake turns his head and smiles at Rooster expectantly.

“Hi, Rooster.” Jake mimics her voice at Rooster’s side. Rooster feels like he’s about to snap this cue in half. He forces a small smile towards the girl, pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek.

Bradley’s entire body flushes. He knows that Jake is keeping count of the girls that have already greeted him personally. His cheeks, ears, his chest and his arms all burn red. He wills his body to stop and pull it together but he’s still flushing red all over.

“Kit.” Rooster greets shortly, giving the girl a brief nod. She smiles at him. Bradley feels a hand on his chest before he’s pushed back out of the way.

“Jake Seresin, Hangman, call me whatever. It’s good to meet you, Kit.” Jake interjects as he steps between Bradley and this girl, sticking out his hand and grabbing hers, shaking it.

She looks him up and down and smiles, then melts into his touch until her chest is resting against his shoulder. Jake glances back at Rooster at this girl’s forwardness.

“Nice to meet you too.” She giggles.

Rooster’s just glad there aren’t mirrors here, because he knows that if he could see how red he is, then he would lose it.

Jake smiles politely at her. She brings a hand up to rest against his chest. Jake could see this girl trying to worm her way into Bradley’s bed, clearly she’s into her navy guys. She’s cute, but something in Jake tells him that this girl isn’t the one.

“So, Kit, how do you know my good friend Rooster, over here?” Jake asks, placing his hand over the top of hers on his chest. She smiles as she looks back across to Rooster, opening her mouth to answer. Then she sees the look on Rooster’s face.

She’s drunk. But she still gets the vibe that this is not a question that Rooster wants her to answer. Kit considers why that may be. She looks back and forth between them.

“Uh —“ Kit’s baffled. From what you’ve told her, Rooster’s not afraid to tell anyone about you. But in this situation, something about the way he’s looking at her tells her that she’s not supposed to mention your name. “Friend of a friend.”

Jake raised an eyebrow. Then he looks back at Rooster. Kit feels like she’s stuck in the middle of a tennis match and that last shot is really making her head spin.

“I’d love to meet this friend.” Jake smiles at her.

Kit smiles almost nervously. She sinks into herself as she retracts her hand from his chest, biting her lip, “Um, well we came ahead. Most of my friends are still finishing their drinks down the street, so… um, I dunno — maybe you’ll run into her later.”

“I sure hope so.” Jake grins at her as he plucks a toothpick from the tin that he keeps in his pocket and places it between his teeth. “You have a good night, sweetheart.”

She blushes and giggles again, “Thanks. You too. Night, Rooster.”

“Night, Kit.” Rooster mumbles dejectedly.

Kit walks back over to her friends, eyes wide. She immediately begins whispering once she reaches them and three sets of eyes land on Jake and Bradley at once.

“Just fess up, man.” Jake chuckles as he pushes off of the wall and lines up to take his turn. Bradley’s brows furrow as Jake sinks two balls at once.

“About what?”

Jake looks up, then smirks. Rooster’s still burning red and there’s a group of girls gossiping about him less than fifteen feet away. Rooster’s just waiting for the ground to swallow him whole. He lifts his beer bottle and takes a drink.

He’s going to finish this one then head home.

Only, once that drink is finished, someone stands up and begins to toast to Berlin. So, Bradley stands with his hands in his pockets, fingers already curled around his keys — waiting for the shitty speech to end.

It’s like a sixth sense that Jake has. He doesn’t know when he developed it or why he has it — it’s one of Chloe’s favourite qualities about him. But Jake can always tell when two people are hooking up. Always. He just knows. After Phoenix had that awkward five minute hook up with the Navy Lawyer back in Lemoore, she had been furious because after all of her efforts to hide it, all it had taken was one look.

She had just looked up from the book she was reading and met his eyes once. For less than two seconds. But when she had turned her attention back to the book, she had looked up and found Jake grinning in intrigue.

So, when the remainder of the group of young girls walk in, Jake knows that his mystery girl is in there somewhere. He just doesn’t know which one. He knows that Bradley has spotted you all coming in because the pilot has stiffened. Rooster’s staring dead ahead like he’s suddenly enthralled in the speech.

Jake isn’t listening to a damn word. He has eyes on Kit. She immediately passes through the group of excited girls and grabs one by the shoulders. The girl that she grabs is on crutches, a thick black boot strapped around her foot. Rooster glances over at Jake and swallows hard.

Kit squeezes your shoulders and tells you something, then points. Jake’s lips quirk up into a smirk around his toothpick as you turn to look for Rooster. Bingo.

“Christ, Bradshaw — Chloe and Amy talk and I’d heard some rumours — but I had no idea you were out here hospitalising girls.” Always crude, Jake says it loud enough to ignite that classic Bradley Bradshaw temper that he loves to see.

None of the other guys pay much attention, but Jake has spoken loud enough that they would have been able to listen in if they wanted.

Rooster rounds on Jake. Those couple of inches in height difference seem more when that huge freak is looming in his face. Still, Jake shows no signs of fear. He grins and nods his head back in your direction,

“She’s damn beautiful. Those legs.”

Jake sees it. That split second that Bradley sees red. It’s enough to prove Jake’s point. Enough that Jake just stands there, waiting patiently for Rooster to come clean.

Rooster composes himself and glances over his shoulder toward the group of girls, “I’ll bet Chloe would love to hear you say that.” He mutters.

“Don’t worry about me and Chloe,” Jake smiles. Bradley seethes. “Besides — what happens on posting stays on posting. Right?”

Jake doesn’t actually think that way, he’s just trying to get under Rooster’s skin. Rooster knows that. Rooster knows that Jake knows. His heart feels like it’s hanging around in the general vicinity of his knees right now.

“What’s your girl’s name?” Jake asks, nodding towards the giggling girl on the other side of the bar. You’re oblivious to their conversation about you. Sure, you plan to go say hi sometime soon. But it’s your friend’s birthday — you’re here with her. And Rooster’s friends are in the middle of something anyway.

Rooster’s glad you haven’t come over. He’s praying that you don’t. That you just stay where you are. That you don’t ruin this.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Bradley mumbles unconvincingly. Jake wants to punch him. It’s infuriating, watching this idiot scramble to come up with excuses.

“You don’t? — So, that sweet little thing over there, you’ve never met her?”

“No.” Bradley shrugs.

Jake hums and takes a sip from his drink, “So, she’s like — free game then. Right?”

This time Rooster wants to hit Jake. Jake sees that in his eyes. He just wants Rooster to man up and admit it. Admit that what he’s doing is fucked up.

Bradley grits his teeth, then shrugs his shoulders again, calling Hangman’s bluff. There’s no way he would touch her. But, this is Jake.

Jake slams his drink down on the bar and pats Bradley’s shoulder, “Cool. Thanks, Birdboy.” Rooster’s heart leaps up into his throat and falls back into his stomach at once as Jake turns on his heel and heads straight for the group of girls.

He grabs onto the bar, maybe to steady himself or maybe to stop him from grabbing the collar of Jake’s shirt and throwing him onto the floor.

Jake slides into the booth that your group is in, leaning across the table. Rooster watches as Jake shakes your hand. You laugh at something he says, and then lift your gaze to look at him.

You scrunch your brows at him slightly and motion your head for him to come over. Rooster turns and pretends to be more involved in the conversation to his left, acting like he has been listening all along. You frown slightly.

Rooster has to force himself not to keep looking. He manages a little at a time. Maybe thirty second intervals. Then, he looks and Jake is sitting right next to you and he’s holding your necklace, looking right into your eyes and telling you how pretty it looks.

You glance down between his hand and his eyes. You’re right about to turn your head towards Rooster to shook him an ‘are you freaking seeing this?’ type look.

Then, you feel a warm hand wrap around your wrist. You gasp as Jake drops your necklace, letting it fall back against your chest quickly. Rooster pulls you to your feet in the same moment, making you stumble, hitting your boot hard on the floor as you try to steady yourself.

You gasp, grabbing onto his arm and squeezing your eyes shut as you feel tension in the healing ligament that sears up your leg. “Fuck, that hurt.” You whisper, turning towards him and leaning your head against his shoulder.

Jake sits back in the chair, mission accomplished. Confirmation achieved. It doesn’t make him feel good. He feels even worse that you just hurt yourself because of him. He immediately wonders if he needs to tell Chloe this.

“I need to talk to you.” Rooster breathes out. Pants, almost. His eyes are frantic as they roam your features. You scrunch your brows at him and nod, glancing back toward his friend, confused. “Can we just… just come with me. Please.”

You nod.

You’re slower than he is on your crutches, but he waits until you’re both out of view, standing by the bathrooms before he finally turns to look at you again.

“Rooster, what’s going on? — I was just being nice because he’s your friend, I wasn’t-“

Searing guilt. Like heat. Rooster wants to come clean and tell you that this isn’t your fault, that you’ve never done anything wrong or to be ashamed of. That this is all his fault. That he fucked everything up. It hurts to think that all you’re worried about is him being upset with you.

“No, I know, baby,” He breathes out, stopping finally to look at you. “I know. He’s just - he did that to just fuck with me, I’m sorry.”

You’re actually kind of relieved to know that his friend wasn’t actually coming on to you. He is incredibly good looking, but not exactly your type. Very much Kit’s type.

“Rooster,” You push yourself up on your crutches, bracing your weight on them. “You’re freaking me out now. What’s going on?”

He looks down at the crutches pressing uncomfortably into your arms, brows scrunching. He was on crutches once before after a football injury, he knows how exhausting it is to use them. All he can think about is how much of an asshole he’s being for keeping you on your feet.

“Can we just talk about this back at your place? — I can’t do this here.” He rushes the sentence. He’s fidgety, like he can’t bare to spend another second in this place. You squint at him and shake your head.

“No, it’s CJ’s birthday — I want to stay and celebrate with her. We can talk here.” You reach out and press your hand to his chest. He hates seeing the concern on your face. He sighs quietly. You’re right. It’s selfish of him to ask you to leave.

“I’m sorry,” He nods his head and leans in to kiss your forehead. “Jake just… gets under my skin. It’s nothing, really. We can talk tomorrow when I take you for your check up.”

You furrow your brows at him, “Not so fast, Flyboy. You’re acting weird.”

He reaches out and touches your face tenderly. You smile as he presses his chest to yours, pressing your back to the wall behind you. You lift your chin and brush your nose against his.

“I just don’t want to screw this up.” He whispers. Your heart swells. He can practically see it swell as he looks into your eyes. All doe-eyed and trusting, smiling up at him just like that first day on the beach.

He presses harder against you, kissing your lips. You hum contentedly and shake your head, “Don’t worry. I trust you.”

God, that makes it even worse. He kisses you again, then pulls back and wipes the smudged lipgloss from just above your lip.

“I’ll see you in the morning, for your checkup.” Rooster promises. You smile and nod your head. “Be good tonight, stay away from Jake.”

“I can’t promise anything.” You tease him, shooting him a playful wink. He smiles fondly once, kissing your cheek before he leaves you standing there.

You’re confused, admittedly, but you can see how this Jake guy could ruffle someone’s feathers. You don’t know their dynamic, but clearly Jake likes to piss Bradley off. Besides, you can’t pretend that you don’t like that he’s protective.

After all the shit that men have put you through, it’s about time that you’re seeing someone who’s looking out for you.

…

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[primofate]

Hi!!! I just wanted to start off by saying I LOVE YOUR WORK!! Like they’re amazing 😩💕💕💕 and I wanted to know if it was possible if I could request Diluc, Kaeya, Zhongli, Albedo (and maybe chongyun) saving their S/O who is about to drown and is unconscious? If it’s so much work it’s totally fine! ~ 💕

Thank you anon baby for all the looveeee <3

Headcanon

Warnings: not proofread, mild angst, hints of death but happy ending, drowning

Characters: fem reader x Diluc, Kaeya, Zhongli, Albedo and Chongyun

Scenario: Saving you from drowning

It was just a small miscalculation. Mitachurls were never a big problem, except when they’ve cornered you atop a cliff and there was nothing below except water. Not to mention your leg had been slightly sprained. The image of you stumbling backwards, tripping over your feet and then disappearing below the cliffs had him distracted from the fight.

The waves are strong. It keeps on pushing you down, and your legs are starting to get tired...

Diluc

Is already going to punish himself for the next few weeks for letting this happen.

“Y/N!” he tries to peer over the edge of the cliff still fighting off the Mitachurls.

Realizes that he can’t see your head anywhere on the surface of the water, abandons the fight and dives right off the cliff.

Frantically swims looking for you.

The water is cold and that scares him more.

Finally pulls you out to the beach and uses his vision to warm you up.

“Come on Y/N, don’t do this to me...” checks if you’re breathing.

You’re not. The world around him shatters.

Starts chest compressions on you. Nothing is happening. You aren’t breathing. He feels like he’s also starting to lose his ability to breathe... until you start to sputter water out.

He slumps on the ground relieved and angry at the same time.

You lay on the ground breathing heavily and coughing from time to time while he tries to get his bearings back. 

He’s totally out of it for a while thinking that he had COMPLETELY lost you.

Finally snaps out of it and wraps his arms around you, head buried below the crook of your neck.

“How many times do I have to tell you to be careful? I can’t lose anymore people, Y/N, specially not you. That’ll be the end of me,” 

His vocal confession makes you think you should jump off of cliffs more.

Kaeya

“Shit,” he doesn’t often swear but seeing you disappear down the cliff made him feel like HE was the one falling. He follows right behind, leaping off the cliff without any regards to himself and leaving the mitachurl behind him. 

His priority was you. 

He surfaces from the water and starts to REALLY lose his shit when he can’t find you on the surface or below it.

When he finally does he’s cursing left and right wondering if he took too long.

Drags you with him to the beach, presses his ear to your chest. You’re still breathing, but you’re so freakin cold.

“Princess, let me see those beautiful eyes,” starts CPR on you desperately. It actually works after a few and you’re back to breathing normally.

BIG sigh of relief when it works and immediately picks you up to travel back to Mondstadt. 

Despite insisting that you are okay he is going to take you to see healers. Maybe 3 or 4 just to make sure you are completely fine. 

Steers clear of cliffs for the next couple of days.

Zhongli

Face is blank. Looks calm but is internally unable to function properly. 

The fastest to abandon the fight and jump down the cliff to follow after you with a loud splash. 

Will use mouth to mouth resuscitation. 

When he’s at it for a while and it doesn’t work he’ll start to get teary eyed but still doesn’t say anything.

He starts regretting not spending enough time with you the past few days. You can’t go like this... Not when he had so many regrets. 

The sudden sputter of water from your mouth causes him to actually sigh and close his eyes, trying to mellow down his fast heart beat.

You’re okay. You’re fine. You’re alive. Is the chant he keeps repeating in his head.

“You would have to remain by my side in the next few weeks...”

He meant to say forever but didn’t want to be too clingy.

Albedo

Most likely the calmest of them all, but doesn’t mean he isn’t scared.

When he follows you into the water the cold hits him.

Even if he saves you from drowning you might get hypothermia from the cold. 

Luckily finds you easily through his own calculation of where you landed and his observation of the sea waves.

You’re barely conscious when he gets to you and he shakes you awake gently. “Y/N, Y/N, can you hear me?” Checks if your brain is working. “Do you know who I am? Can you tell me my name?”

Then suddenly you go limp in his arms which has him running over to shore.

Initiates mouth to mouth resuscitation but is kind of clumsy with it.

When it works and you spit water out, he realizes his hands are trembling in fear. He didn’t know if he could save you at all. 

But now that you’re fine, he takes slow breaths to calm down. 

Sits at the shore with you for a while, propping you up in one arm, moving the wet strands of hair away from your face.

Wraps his coat around you and is off to make sure you’re warm and completely fine.

Chongyun

panics the most.

goes back and forth between abandoning the fight or going after you and then feels stupid because he really should’ve went after you first.

When he finds you he panics even more. What was he supposed to do?

Stumbles and races to the shore with you in his arms, he’s panting and looks as if he was trying to win a marathon.

Already has tears in his eyes when he sees you’re unresponsive. 

Clumsy CPR skills but is surprisingly good at using the mouth to mouth method. 

“Please wake up, please wake up, please wake up...!” 

Tears already spilling from the corners of his eyes when it isn’t working.

“Nononononono...” doubles up his efforts and it finally works. You cough out water.

When you sit up, you get tackled down again by a bear hug and a Chongyun bear sniffling. 

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