#when I have to deal with some of my charges who are idiots who can’t effectively communicate

[dykeredhood]

Why can’t I be on the boat. Put me on the boat

[itneverendshere]

rewatching desperate house wives right now and would love to see a little something inspired by gabrielle and carlos?? maybe season 2 when he's in jail and she wants a conjugal visit. just thought it would be fun, love your work!!!

I'M THE GIRL YOU DIE FOR- r.c

pairing: canon!rafe x queenb!kook!reader

of course, you had to be here.

no one else was going to fight for rafe—certainly not that tired, old man, with his cheap suit and receding hairline.

god, you hated this place. the lighting was terrible, the walls a sad, dull beige that screamed "i give up," and the leather chairs were probably fake.

honestly, couldn’t these people at least pretend to have some standards? guess that’s what happens when you’re not the one cutting the checks.

now, instead of champagne and designer brunches, you were spending your afternoons in a hellhole like this. you stood near the chain-link fence, your sunglasses shielding you from the glaring sun.

in the distance, the inmates were out in the yard, working out, talking in groups, smoking—whatever it was they did to kill time.

who thought it was a good idea to have meetings out here? the yard was full of dirt, sweat, and who-knows-what, and the chain-link fence looked like something out of a low-budget crime show. you flicked a piece of lint off your skirt, more for effect than necessity.

maxwell finally showed up, his face blank, like he wasn’t impressed by the outfit you’d spent an hour putting together. whatever. you were here for rafe, not him.

“we need to talk,” you said, tightening the hold on your birkin like it weighed a thousand pounds. it was designer. it probably cost more than his car.

maxwell didn’t even flinch. “about?”

cheap suit, cheap attitude. honestly, if you weren’t so desperate, you’d be done with this idiot by now.

“about my fiancé.” you tilted your head, giving him your best ‘don’t play dumb with me’ look. “we need a conjugal visit. and i need you to make it happen.”

“a conjugal visit?” he said it slow, like you were asking for a miracle.

“yes.” you smiled tightly. “you know, those things where people in prison get to have a little privacy? i want you to get us one.” you rolled your eyes. god, this guy was infuriating. “isn’t that part of your job? to get what we need?”

maxwell raised an eyebrow. “a conjugal visit isn’t part of the deal. rafe’s charges are serious. i’m trying to get your fiancé out of jail, you want me to stop everything just so you can have a booty call?”

he was acting like you were asking for something outrageous.

as if it wasn’t completely reasonable for you to want to see rafe. really see him. after months. this was rafe cameron you were talking about. he had power. you had power. how could this crusty lawyer not understand that?

“i’m not asking, maxwell. i’m telling you. make it happen.”

“i said no.”

you scowled at him, “all we need is an hour. you can’t tell me no! you work for me, you will make it happen.”

he gave a fake sigh, the kind people did when they thought you were being dramatic.

“listen,” he sneered, leaning in slightly. “i’m not your servant. you don’t get to snap your fingers and expect things to just happen. newsflash—your boyfriend is in prison. not some hotel.”

oh, this smug asshole. you were about to really let him have it when a low voice interrupted from behind the fence.

“you got a problem, lady?”

you turned, eyes narrowing as you saw two inmates standing near the fence, both of them massive. tattoos snaked up their arms, and they looked rough. you’d seen them with rafe before.

maxwell glanced back at them, trying to act tough, “excuse me, but this is a private conversation.”

“private? you’re out here talking loud enough for the whole yard to hear. we heard what you said.” he tilted his head toward you, eyes narrowing on maxwell. “sounds like you’re disrespecting cameron’s girl.”

maxwell stammered, suddenly not so confident. “i—i’m just trying to explain that a conjugal visit is complicated. there are rules—”

“we don’t care.”

the second maxwell started running his mouth, you could already tell he had no idea who he was dealing with. he was still trying to act like he had the upper hand, like he was some big-shot lawyer who could push people around. you almost pitied him. almost. but honestly, he deserved what was coming.

“you’re not gonna get away with this,” he snapped, all bravado, puffing out his chest like that was going to make him any less pathetic. “you think you can intimidate me? i’ll have you all locked up for life if you so much as lay a finger on me.”

you rolled your eyes behind your sunglasses. what an idiot.

the bigger inmate—tank, you’d heard people call him—reached through the fence with a broomstick.

you hadn’t even noticed it before, but he must’ve grabbed it from somewhere nearby. he jabbed it into maxwell’s shoulder, not hard enough to really hurt him, but enough to make his point. maxwell jumped back like he’d been electrocuted.

“hey! what the—” he shouted, trying to step out of range, but tank just laughed and poked him again, this time aiming lower, jabbing him in the ribs.

“you don’t make the rules here, old man,” tank sneered, poking him once more, this time a little harder. “you’re gonna learn that the hard way if you don’t shut your mouth. apologize!”

maxwell’s face was turning red now, panic setting in as he tried to dodge the broomstick, but the other guy grabbed the handle, keeping it steady while tank prodded him over and over, relentless.

“i swear to god,” maxwell was screaming now, voice cracking. “i’ll have the guards throw you in solitary! you’ll never see daylight again, i’ll make sure you rot in here!”

the inmates just laughed, like his threats were some kind of joke. and honestly, they were. you watched, arms crossed, completely unbothered, as maxwell flailed, trying to keep his balance while other inmates jabbed other broomsticks at him, from every side, like he was nothing more than a punching bag.

“you hear that, boys?” tank said, grinning as he poked maxwell one more time. “he’s gonna get us locked up for life! like we’re not already in here.” the other inmate burst out laughing. a few more guys started drifting closer to the fence, watching with interest. “apologize!”

maxwell’s face was pure panic now. “stop it!” he screamed, backing up so far he was almost falling over. “i’m serious, i’ll call the warden, i’ll—this is all her fault, if she wasn’t such a goddamn horny b—”

you gasped, insulted, ready to read him to filth but the inmates beat you to it.

“do it,” the second guy sneered, his voice low and threatening. “see if we care. you think we don’t know how to make things happen? you’d be gone before you even got your phone call.”

a few of them started yelling, and jeering, like they were ready to jump in, too. maxwell’s eyes darted around, realizing that this was spiraling out of control.

“you idiots!” he screeched, his voice high-pitched and panicky. “you’ll start a riot! they’ll lock all of you down—no more yard, no more visits, nothing! you’re gonna screw yourselves over!”

but they didn’t care. the guys on the yard were getting riled up now, shouts echoing across the open space. some of them were banging on the fence, rattling it hard enough to make it shake.

“apologize to the lady!”

one of the other inmates reached through the fence, grabbing at his sleeve, yanking him forward. maxwell screamed, struggling to pull away, but the guy held on tight, his grip ironclad.

“come on, boys!” someone yelled from the yard, and suddenly it was like the floodgates had opened. more and more inmates rushed toward the fence, shouting, banging on the metal, some of them reaching through, trying to get a piece of the action, “apologize!”

you adjusted your sunglasses and turned to leave, your heels clicking against the pavement. you hope they kill him for you.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚

you were dressed to the nines, as usual, in a designer dress that probably cost more than what the guards made in a month. even in this drab setting, you looked like you belonged on a yacht, not here, in some depressing room meant for criminals and their girlfriends.

you strutted toward him, your lips glossed to perfection, knowing full well that the bratty smile curling your mouth would drive him insane.

it always did.

rafe was already sitting there, arms crossed, looking as exasperated as you’d ever seen him.

his jaw was clenched, and the muscles there twitched. he was not happy.

you smirked. of course, you weren’t expecting a warm welcome, but at least you got to see him.

“hi, baby,” you purred, batting your lashes as if you weren’t here to make his day harder. “missed me?”

he just stared at you for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut like he was trying to find some ounce of patience. then he let out this long, heavy sigh, rubbing his hand down his face before finally looking at you again.

“you—” he started, then stopped, poking his tongue against the inside of his cheek in frustration. “you started a riot because you wanted a conjugal visit?”

you tilted your head innocently, like you didn’t understand why he was so worked up.

“almost,” you corrected, as if that made it any better. “it wasn’t like they actually did anything.” you waved your hand dismissively, the gloss on your lips catching the light as you smiled.

“you—” he stopped, biting the inside of his cheek again, trying to rein it in. he was always like this—prone to temper, to obsession. the need to control everything. especially you. “do you know how close it came to getting out of control? the guards were ready to lock the whole place down. for days. you think that would’ve been good for me, huh?”

you shrugged, not really fazed.

“he was being a dick to me, baby. what was i supposed to do? that lawyer was useless. i wasn’t just going to stand there and let him talk to me like that.”

his eyes dropped to your mouth, unable to resist.

“he was the best lawyer in the fucking county.”

“they clearly need new ones then.”

rafe groaned, trying to keep from losing it completely.

“he almost called me a bitch!”

“were you acting like one?”

“and so what if i was?” you leaned back, crossing your arms, the movement accentuating your designer dress. “he was the one acting like an asshole. he’s lucky i didn’t throw my drink at him. if i’d had one.”

he looked like he was about two seconds away from unleashing his deranged side, rubbing his hand over his face again, like that was going to somehow make all of this disappear.

“you don’t get it, do you? you can’t pull this shit in here, baby. it’s not the fucking outer banks. people don’t just let you get away with whatever you want because you look good and throw money around.”

you rolled your eyes, flipping your hair over your shoulder.

“yeah, well, maybe they should. you don’t see me lowering my standards just because you’re stuck in this dump, do you?” you gestured around the room, your nose wrinkling at the depressing, beige walls. “god, i mean, who chooses these colors? it’s like they want people to lose their minds in here.”

he scoffed, “that’s what you’re worried about? the color of the walls?”

you pouted, “what else was I supposed to do? sit and wait for him to do nothing? ’m not stupid.”

"you're lucky you're even allowed in here after that stunt.”

you gave him a sweet, almost patronizing smile, teeth digging into your lower lip. "aww, baby, are you worried about me?”

"stop," he snapped, "this shit isn’t funny. you think i want to spend the next month in solitary because you couldn't keep your mouth shut?"

you didn’t flinch. in fact, you smiled even wider, enjoying how worked up he was getting.

“don’t be so dramatic. it wasn’t like anything actually happened.”

"you're out there playing power games with people who don't care about you,” he tapped two fingers against his temple, brows slightly raised,“they won’t bow down because you’ve got money or a pretty face."

"maybe not, but they’ll listen if i push hard enough," you said coolly. "and guess what? they did."

he clenched his jaw again, running his hands through his growing hair in frustration. he looked like he was fighting every instinct not to explode.

"you really think you're helping me, don’t you?"

you crossed your legs slowly, adjusting your dress so the fabric draped perfectly. “would you rather have me fuck someone else? y’know… a free man?”

that got a reaction. his eyes flickered with something dangerous, a smirk forming at the corner of his mouth as he leaned in close.

“you wouldn’t.” he whispered, the words laced with venom and amusement at the same time.

your smile turned wicked. “wouldn’t i?”

his fingers twitched on the table, the way they always did when he was seconds away from grabbing you.

“you’re really testing me right now,” he said slowly, his fingers drumming on the metal table between you. "you think ’m stuck in here, so you can play your little games? make me jealous?”

you held his gaze, unbothered, your lips curling into a defiant smile. "’m just reminding you that i have options. ones that aren’t sitting in a prison cell.”

he chuckled darkly, though there was nothing funny about the look in his eyes.

"options, huh?" his voice was edging on borderline strained. "and what makes you think i wouldn't kill any man who even looked at you?"

"you’d have to catch him first, wouldn’t you? and we both know you’re a little… tied up at the moment."

his hand shot out, gripping your lower cheecks with a force that sent you spiriling, remembering how he used to manhandle you anytime he got his hands on you, your faces were almost touching.

his eyes were wild. possession. obsession. the kind of dark love that made you both feel alive.

“you’re mine. no matter where i am, no matter who else you think you can have. you’re mine.”

“then get the stupid conjugal visit,” you hissed through your teeth, “’m horny.”

“’m not asking you. ’m telling you. you don’t have options sweetheart. you never did.”

you felt your pulse quicken.

god, he was insane, but that’s what made it so intoxicating.

he was right. no matter what you said or did, no matter how much you tried to push his buttons, it always came back to one thing: you belonged to him.

“i’ll get you your damn visit,” he continued, his voice dropping lower, “but ’m not doing it because you demanded it. ’m doing it because you need to be reminded of something.” he leaned back, letting go of your face, his fingers printed into your cheeks, keeping his eyes locked on yours, “you’re mine. and i’ll make sure you remember that.”

you rubbed where his grip had been, the throbbing sensation making it clear that he hadn’t lost his touch—he never did.

you grinned as you leaned forward, closing the space between you two again, “i’ll be waiting, baby.”

rafe’s smirk widened, his eyes burning with that possessive glint you knew all too well. there was no escaping him, not that you really wanted to.

“enjoy your time behind bars,” you added, standing up slowly, your movements deliberate, making sure he had a full view of your ass as you walked toward the exit. “maybe i’ll find a way to keep myself busy until you get out.”

he didn’t answer, but you could feel his eyes burning into your back as you left the room.

you knew you were pushing him, playing with fire, but that’s how you both liked it. this was the game you played. you couldn’t wait for him to remind you exactly who you belonged to.

[f1girliefics]

Too Far

Mick Schumacher x Reader

Summary: When dating him causes rage in some fans, they forget where the line is.

When the news of Mick and you dating came out, you expected the rumours, you were ready for the hate and the comments.

What you weren’t ready for is the crazy fans who decided to harass you in public.

It started off with small things.

When you went shopping, things were missing from your cart. Then people started to push you. You thought it was by mistake but then you realized, it was all a game to them.

Videos on TikTok started to go around, it was almost like a challenge to them.

Who could push you more?

Mick mentioned to you that it wasn’t okay and you didn’t have to deal with the harassment, but you brushed it off.

“Don’t worry, it will die down after a while. You know how people are, they will move on to the next thing.”

He knew you were right. 

But then, it got out of hand. So much so that you fell and got injured.

The video went viral before you could even get some help.

You were rushed to a hospital with a broken ankle and twisted wrist.

Your boyfriend called you, furious. 

“This has to stop!” he texted. “I’m on my way, almost there.” came another text, then. “I’m so sorry that this happened. I love you!” 

Before you could text back, the door opened and he came in.

“How are you feeling?” he asked as he saw the cast on your leg and the wrap on your arm.

“I’m good. The idiots pushed me on a slippery floor and as I fell my leg got stuck under the shelf and I fell on my wrist. How I can press charges?”

“I saw the video, Lando sent it to me. It’s going viral and the public opinion is with you. Everyone’s saying how that is just taking it too far and how they should be ashamed. Someone even found out the name of the girls and even after they took off the video, someone reported them.” he let out a long sigh. “I was so worried about you. I’m glad you are safe.”

“I agree, this has gone too far. Light pushing I can handle but breaking my leg… too much. Thank you.” you smiled at him and pulled him in for a short kiss before the doctor came and let you leave.

You arrived home and ate something while Mick was on his phone.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m making a post. I need to set the boundaries and I can’t just let this one go.”

“I understand and agree… just be… kinda nice.” you said as he nodded and continued typing.

‘My Dear Fans,

I’m sure many of you are aware of what happened today. I kept silent out of respect for my girlfriend, but I can no longer do so. 

She got seriously hurt today and I’m honestly surprised it didn’t happen before.

I do appreciate all my fans but I think we all can agree that this is seriously not okay.

I decided to take a break from social media and spend my time with my girlfriend as now she will need someone to help her with tasks.

I hope we all can learn from this.’

You gave Mick a nod and he posted it.

He spent the entire day helping you with anything. He ordered food and even offered to help you eat.

“My other hand is just fine!”

“But I want to help.” he argued and you couldn’t help but laugh.

He wanted you to smile and laugh to forget everything that happened.

But later that night, while he was sleeping, your mind began to wonder.

All your insecurities and fears came to the surface. 

You knew you shouldn’t blame yourself. But you were angry that you let things get out of hand and it got to this point.

You were used to the interviewers, the inappropriate questions, and people shouting at you.

But this was a new low.

You were just happy to have Mick by your side.

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[nerdlvr]

HEY HOW ARE YOU, HOPE YOU'RE DOING GREAT, WONDERING IF YOU COULD DO SOMETHING LIKE Y/N AND JENO GOT INTO A VERY SERIOUS ARGUMENT

HI!! i’m doing great, sorry for the late reply i am on vacation! kinda inspired by jim and pam’s valentine’s day fight from the office (if you’ve seen it) it’s not so much an argument because i’m bad at dialogue but it’s a little couples spat. hope you enjoy anyways! ☺

it had been tense since jeno woke up that morning. it was valentines day and you wanted to make it special for him since the last one he had been on tour. you woke up early to make him his favorite breakfast, taking the time to cut out little hearts from all of the fruits. but of course your exhausted boyfriend had slept through breakfast, having had practice till late the night before. he had taken off from practice today to "spend time with you" but he had only been spending time with his bed. you cleaned up breakfast deciding that it wasn’t that big of a deal, you had the rest of the day planned anyways. when jeno had finally woken up you were getting ready to go on a bike ride with him, your go to date activity, but you were met with a groggy smile telling you, “not today baby hm? just a little tired, but i made us dinner plans at 7 today okay?” so you complied taking off your biking gear and heading to the living room to watch some tv. jeno came out lazily and laid on the couch next to you resting his head on your thighs. as 6 rolled around you decided to get ready for dinner looking through your closet for your new dress. you heard rustling in the bathroom assuming jeno was also getting ready. by 6:45 you were finished, stepping out of your room to show jeno your outfit. as you stepped out you were met with a very laid back boyfriend, wearing jogging pants and a hoodie, he looked up at you eyes widening when he saw your appearance, “shit baby is it 7 already? i totally blanked on dinner, i can get ready real quick and tell them we hit some traffic so they don’t charge us for being late.” he stood up quickly going to your shared room to get dressed, you stopped him. “forget it jen, i’m not even hungry, let’s stay home and do nothing like we’ve been doing all day” jeno stared at you, confused by your sudden attitude, “what do you mean ‘do nothing,’ i took the day off to be with you?” you let out a deep breath, “you didn’t take a day off to be with me you took a day off to catch up on your sleep jeno, don’t act like today’s been ALL about me” he tilted his head to the side staring at you bewildered, “is this about the biking? baby we bike every chance we get, we’ll do it next time i have free.” you pushed past him leaning on the couch for support as you took your heels off, “yes jeno, this is about the biking and breakfast and this stupid dinner that you planned and forgot about, i tried to make everything special for us today and you just slept through it all, i look like an idiot running around planning stuff for my boyfriend who doesn’t even care” he walked towards you grabbing your chin, “you think i don’t care? you think getting a last minute spot at your favorite restaurant is easy? you think being away from you everyday is easy?” your eyes began to water as he let go of your chin walking towards the door “i’m sorry for being tired today, it’s my first day off in months, you think i didn’t want today to be special too? i’m sorry okay? i feel like shit cause i ruined your valentine’s day.” you heard jeno's voice crack as he spoke, back turned towards you, “i just, i can’t keep going back and forth, not today, if we’re gonna keep fighting then i’ll just meet the guys at practice, tell them our plans got cancelled,” he slipped some shoes on, grabbing his coat to leave, you stopped him, hand grasping his shirt. “don’t leave please, stay, stay with me and fight, we’ll yell all night if we have to.” he stopped and turned to face you, “you really wanna fight on valentine’s day?” you gave him a soft smile, “yes, stay with me and fight, just, don’t go.” jeno wasn’t gonna leave, not even if you begged him.

[ladykailitha]

Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 12

Hello!! This lovely story is completed. And next week will be almost all getting this story out to you. So Sunday, Monday, and Friday will be the last three chapters of this story. So you're all in for a treat.

In this Eddie is horny on main, gets into some trouble, and vows to find out if it's connected to Steve.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

~

Steve walked away from that first meet with Billy feeling more than a little smug. Billy’s two athletes had done well enough. Chrissy Cunningham winning bronze over all in her division and Jason Carver winning silver in his.

But the thing that really made Steve’s day was that Jason’s time for the silver, was slower in masters than Eddie’s time in intermediate.

Steve made sure to focus on getting Eddie’s time in the backstroke as close as he could to the current record.

He wasn’t sure if Eddie’s coaches had lucked out in middle school, or if training Eddie on the backstroke that young was why he was as good at it as he was, but in Steve’s mind it didn’t matter. With Eddie’s arms and longer torso, he was like a knife in the water, just slicing through it.

When Eddie showed up at the next meet, Jason was sure to get in his face. Eddie had changed into his black Speedo and was braiding his hair the way Steve taught him. His was never as tight as Steve’s but at the Olympics Steve wouldn’t be his coach and wouldn’t be able to do it for him.

“You must think you’re pretty special after that performance from last time, huh?” Jason huffed. “With the judges falling all over themselves to put you in the higher division, but now you’re playing with the big boys now. I will wipe the floor with you.”

Eddie looked up at the other swimmer. Jason cut the all-American boy next door stereotype to a tee. His perfect tan, white teeth, blond hair and blue eyes. His toned body barely contained by his red Speedo.

If Jason hadn’t started shit, Eddie wouldn’t have said no to tapping that ass. But as it was, he was refraining. He knew what Billy was going for with this guy. He was the replacement Steve Harrington. Like original wasn’t one of a kind.

Eddie finished braiding his hair and stood up, meeting Jason eye to eye. “You can’t even wipe the floor with your own ass, man. My time was better than yours and it’s going to be again.” He patted Jason on his chest and then turned around. He grabbed his cap and goggles throwing the rest of his stuff in the locker and slammed it shut. He pulled on his team jacket, shoving the goggles and cap in one of the pockets.

“All you are is a one trick pony,” Jason sneered. “You might beat me in the backstroke but I am the better swimmer all around.” He gave Eddie a little push before shouldering past him.

Eddie just shook his head and followed the idiot out.

He walked right up to Steve with the biggest grin. “Looks like I got them against the lane ropes, coach. They’re running scared.”

Steve frowned, but when Eddie told him about his encounter with Jason just now, he grinned. “Certainly sounds like it. So I looked into who his charges were.”

“Yeah?” Max asked eagerly. She had just finished her heat and was going over her times with Steve when Eddie came out of the locker room.

“He is Jason Carver,” Steve explained, “been all over the country with all the best coaches and tutors. But he’s twenty-two and never made it to the Olympics so people were starting to say he was washed up, until Billy got his claws in him. If he wasn’t so Sunday school vibes, I would suspect doping with the sudden change.”

“I hope it shrinks his penis,” Max said darkly.

Robin and Eddie giggled and Eddie high-fived her.

Steve rolled his eyes. “The girl is Chrissy Cunningham. She’s only eighteen and she barely missed getting on the women’s team in the last Olympics, having come in seventh. She is highly favored on getting on the team for London. She didn’t need Billy’s help, she just came as a packaged deal with Jason as he’s her boyfriend.”

Robin rolled her eyes and scoffed under her breath, “Straights!”

Max squawked in outrage. “Hey, we’re not all weirdos like that.”

They all laughed.

Then it was time for Eddie’s first match of the day. Thankfully he had been placed at the other end of the pool from Jason as Steve wasn’t sure the guy wouldn’t try and push Eddie off or something.

Then the gun went off. Eddie arched backwards into the pool as graceful as a butterfly and just as beautiful. Eddie was focused on his stroke as he whirled around to make his way back through his lane.

He touched the pad and yanked off his goggles. He saw his time and hollered. It was even better than last time and there was no doubt he had beaten Jason.

And immediately as soon as Jason got out of the pool he ran right up to the the judges screaming about how Eddie must be doping.

The judge, a poor belabored man in his fifties pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mr. Carver, Mr. Munson has already submitted to a drug test after his last outstanding performance and he has passed with flying colors. Please go sit down.”

Billy came up and led a very upset Jason away from the judges murmuring things about how easy it is to fake a urine test.

Eddie just scoffed and turned to Steve as they walked passed them. “If he wanted to see my dick so bad, all he had to do was ask nicely.”

Jason whirled around to start something, Billy held him back. “He’s just saying that to get you riled up. Just ignore him.”

Jason walked backwards, glaring at Eddie. Eddie waved his fingers at him and then turned back to Steve and them.

“Some people take these things too seriously,” he huffed, putting his hands on his hips dramatically. “You should be able to have little fun outside of the pool.”

Steve grinned up at him. “As long as your head remains in the game in the pool, I really don’t care what you do out of it. Drugs and smoking aside. If it’s legal and ain’t hurting anyone, have fun, go nuts.”

Eddie grinned back.

All the men finished their heats, Eddie winning gold again.

“Next up are the state competitions,” Steve said after they had come back out from getting changed. “I expect you’ll both do really well there as well. The real challenge will come on the national level. Billy just brought his team out here to fuck with me and is really pissed it didn’t work the way he thought it would.”

“Also,” Robin said, “I’ve hearing around that since the Olympic trials are being held in Nebraska this time round and is trying to horn in on our facility because it’s been where the trials have been held in the past.”

“Joyce would laugh him out of her office if he tried that,” Max said rolling her eyes.

Robin put her hands over her mouth and giggled. “What if she already has and that’s why he’s so pissed?”

They all shared gleeful glances and then all agreed that without any evidence one way or the other that that was exactly what happened and no one was going to convince them otherwise.

Steve turned to Eddie. “Do you need a ride home? Wayne caught me before he left to say that he had to go to work.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said with a sigh of relief. “If you could. I was going to try and call Jeff to come get me, but if you’re willing, I’m ready.”

Steve nodded and turned to Robin, “Susan said she was driving both of you girls home, is that still okay?”

Robin nodded and then left with Max to go find her mom, leaving Eddie and Steve alone.

Eddie reached out and touched Steve’s elbow. “Hey are you okay? I saw that you were much further from the pool than you usually are.”

Steve blushed and ducked his head. He scratched his cheek as he pursed his lips to stop their quivering. He nodded.

“I need you to breathe with me, Stevie,” Eddie cooed, taking both of his wrists and rubbing them with his thumb. “In for five, hold, and out for seven. The water isn’t close enough for you to fall in. It’s ten feet away. You can’t fall in. In for five, hold, and out for seven.”

Steve closed his eyes and did as Eddie bid, relaxing into the warmth of the younger man’s timbre. Slowly he opened his eyes. “Thank you.”

Eddie grinned back at him. “No problem!”

Steve coughed, and looked away. “I should probably get you home, before you turn into a pumpkin.”

“Sure thing, Stevie,” his voice was warm and tender, taking the suddenly change as the dodge it was.

They walked out to Steve’s car and Eddie kept an eye on him all the way there.

“This isn’t a setback you know?” he murmured.

Steve let out a shuddering sigh and stopped a moment to close his eyes. “I do know that, but at same time whenever this happens I just feel like I failed.” He huffed out a bitter laugh. “Dr. Hughes would probably say it’s because of my father constantly hounding me to be the best all the time...”

“I know what it feels like to have that voice in your head,” Eddie said softly, reaching out to touch his arm, “telling you everything you do is a failure and you’ll never be good enough. But it’s like breaking your leg. Sometimes you’ll have bad days, but you’ve just got to keep moving forward. Okay?”

He nodded and just buried his head into the crook of Eddie’s neck, sobbing. Eddie wrapped his arms around him and held him as he cried.

~

Eddie couldn’t win every meet, but even when he didn’t, he at least made the podium each time. He was brilliant in the water.

Max was doing well, too. Susan had given her permission to practice with Steve more days out of the week. Provided of course she kept her grades up. Eddie had opted to train with Steve and Robin twice a day.

He really wanted to put in the work required to be the best.

The Ghastly Ghouls, as Eddie had taken to calling the stuck up coaches and their charges who looked down on Eddie and Steve, started avoiding them all together. Bitter and angry that not only was Steve the better coach, despite being afraid of the pool, but Eddie was more dedicated to the sport then their athletes were.

Hannah and Lisa would often complain about how hard it was and how much the swimming time ate into their social lives.

Eddie wanted to laugh. He still hung out with his friends, had Sunday dinner with Wayne, and practiced with his band around his swimming schedule.

Hell, a lot of the times the stands would have more than just Wayne and Susan in them. Joyce and her sons, their friends, too. To root Steve on as well as Eddie and Max. Jeff, Gareth, and Brian would come as well.

He would never tell Steve this, but once he ran into Tommy and Carol outside one of their meets. The conservation was stilted and awkward as fuck, but he thought it was cute that they were trying to support Steve even if it was surreptitiously.

It was the last match of the season and Eddie was hyped. Bouncing on the balls of his feet and shaking his hands to stay warmed.

A couple of judges approached him with a jacket in the one’s hand.

“Is this your jacket?” the one asked, holding up a brand new, black bomber style jacket instead of the motorcycle leather that was so worn that it was brown along the cuffs and the zipper.

Eddie shook his head. “No, ma’am. I’ve never seen that jacket before in my life.”

Robin and Steve immediately dashed over.

“You’re saying that this isn’t your jacket?” the other judge growled. “It was found in your locker.” He put his hands into the front pocket and pulled out a little plastic baggy with what Eddie presumed was steroids. One thing he wouldn’t sell to his classmates, though many a jock asked. The risk was just too high.

Eddie shook his head. “My jacket is out in my van. I don’t bring in anymore because it’s too hot.”

“That’s not his jacket,” Steve snapped. “Robin grab me my phone. Eddie go get your jacket.”

“I’ll come with you,” the first judge growled and followed Eddie out to the parking lot.

Robin slapped the phone into Steve’s hand. He pulled up his contacts and dialed a number. “Hello, is Dr. Owens available. Yes, it’s urgent. Dr. Owens. Has Eddie tested positive for steroids, ever? No? Would you please tell that to these judges please?”

The remain judge’s eyes went wide. “Why do you have an Olympic doctor on speed dial?”

Steve just started him straight in the eye with the phone held out. The judge shakily took the phone and listened to Dr. Owens berate him for his idiocy and incompetence.

Eddie and the judge came back with Eddie’s jacket. Further cementing Eddie’s innocence.

“I think someone is trying to get Eddie out of the running,” Robin said, voice dripping with malice. “I think you’ll find whoever told to search Eddie’s locker is the one that put that there.”

“It was anonymous,” the second judge huffed.

“Convenient,” she said, darkly folding her arms in front of her chest.

“Can I swim now?” Eddie asked, his lip quivering and his voice breaking.

The judges shared defeated glances, but agreed he was allowed to compete.

Eddie made sure to get gold in every one of events that day, just further piss whoever had tried to sabotage him off.

After he stepped off the winner podium, he scanned the crowd wondering if whoever was out to get him was also the one who sabotaged Steve in ‘08.

And he was going to find out.

~

Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @gloomysoup

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @eriquin

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @chameleonhair @sadisticaltarts @dreamercec @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @mac-attack19

10- @aol19 @tartarusknight @morallyundefined

[writeawaythepain]

That Funny Feeling

Jimmy Solidarity x (gn!reader)

…Hey! I’m not dead! And I finally have the urge to write again! Hope you enjoy my spiral into a new fandom!

tw: self-deprecating thoughts, angst (don’t worry there’s a fluff at the end)

Word count: 1.7k

Prompts:

“You are worthy of love and friends and respect.”

"why do you care!" "because i’m in love with you!"

Summary:

You walk in on Jimmy having beef with a fence post, and though you're not really surprised, you wonder if he’s dealing with more pain than just that of his injured foot. Includes you giving the poor guy a much needed hug, and a slip-up that lets him in on how much you really care about him.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

You don’t think you’ve ever really seen Jimmy upset…not really. He never minded being the butt of any joke, laughing along at any jab or insult. He didn’t mind if people made fun of him as long as it made someone laugh at the end. He was selfless like that. You were always a little bit jealous of his resilience, and maybe that’s why you always thought of him as almost…invincible.

So, when one day you came to check up on how the Sheriff’s new building was going, you were surprised to see that barely any progress had been done. It actually…seemed like he’d torn parts of it down. You approached slowly, taking in the half done walls and foundation, a door frame without a door, and started to look for him. 

Before you can even call out to him, though, you see the back of a familiar blonde cowboy. A cowboy who was seemingly talking to himself. “No- come on Jim! You know you can do better at this- you just gotta… just gotta…” He stops, clenching his fists and yelling out in frustration. “It’s not that hard!” He emphasizes the last word by kicking a rickety fence post, but it must have been sturdier than he expected because he instantly flinched back, grabbing his foot and crying out in pain.

The whole sight was almost cartoonish, with him wearing his cowboy hat and boots, so you couldn’t help but snicker even as you reached out your hand in concern. “Oh my god Jimmy, are you ok?” You can’t stop the smile that spreads on your face, but it wavers slightly as you approach him and notice…are those tears in his eyes? He quickly wipes his face, replacing his frustrated look with an excited smile. 

“Oh hi! I didn’t even see you there! Me and this fence post are having beef, actually- See, it won’t do what I tell it to, and make my stuff look good so I was reminding ‘em who's in charge round here!” He laughs a little as he says it, his smile so bright you're inclined to believe him…it wasn’t quite reaching his eyes though, and you still wonder if the kick hurt him more than he was letting on.

“Yea, you really showed him!” You try to mirror his energy, shaking off some of your worries as he replies in his usual chipper tone.

“Yea I did!” He laughs but then slightly turns away from you. “Listen uh…you know I always love having you around. You’re welcome anytime! But uh…I really have a- a thing I gotta do and…” Your smile drops as you see him wince a little as he puts his weight on the foot he ‘beat up’ the fence post with.

“Hey Jimmy, is your foot ok?” You walk up to him, concerned. “Maybe you should sit down-“

“Nah I’m fine…probably anyway.” He laughs like it’s a joke, but when you look at him you're not smiling.

“You're limping. You might not have broken anything but- here, sit down.” You gently put your hand on his shoulder.

“It’s really nothing, I’m just being an idiot...” He moves away from your touch, shaking it off and puffing up his chest a little. He tries to shoot you a smile again, but it did little to aid your concerns.

“Just, let me take a look at it? Maybe I can help-“ You start, a little frustrated at his stubbornness.

“But I don’t need help! I can take care of it myself! I just- I just stubbed my toe. I’ll be fine!” You sigh, giving him a weird look, but deciding not to push it.

“…why were you beefing with the fence post anyway…did it kill your grandma?” You joke, hoping to fix the awkward air that had somehow come between the two of you. It’s weird, you’d never felt awkward talking with him before.

Instead of responding, Jimmy just turned towards his half finished building. And stood there. After a while he finally spoke. “Listen I’m, kinda busy right now. Maybe you can come back another time?” …Alright that’s it-

“Ok Jimmy, what is up with you? I came here to see your build, which looks less finished than when I saw it days ago may I add, and instead I see you kicking a fence post, getting defensive when I try to help, and now you don’t even laugh at my Trolls joke? …ok maybe it's an old meme but still-“ You chuckle, still kind of hoping he’d just turn around and start acting normal again. You’ve never seen him act like this before.

All he did was stand there…and as the silence grew longer you couldn’t help but start to get worried. “Gosh…I really am useless.” He finally says.

You almost roll your eyes, “Your not useless Jim-“ 

“Yes- yes I am!” He says it so firmly you freeze. You’ve never heard him raise his voice like that before. 

“I can’t build, I can’t fight, I can’t even be the guy who smiles all the time! I’m- I’m basically worthl-“ He stops himself. “…and I don’t know why I’m telling you this- I’m sorry.“ You're so surprised by his words you don’t even know what to say. “I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just-“ He takes his hat off of his head and grips it in his hands. “It’s so stupid- I’m so stupid. It shouldn’t be this hard for me to just-“ His grip on the hat tightens.

“…Jimmy, you are not worthless. You don’t have to smile all the time to be the brightest ray of sunshine I know. You could probably make me see the silver lining of getting stabbed for god's sake-“ You almost laugh at your own words, hoping it would get through to him. “You are worthy of love and friends and respect. And I’m sorry I don’t tell you that enough.” You walk up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. He slowly spins around, but doesn’t meet your eyes.

“I’m just being a baby-”

“No, no you're not. It’s ok to- to feel bad sometimes.” You interrupt gently before he can insult himself again.

“Why- why do you even care?” His voice wavers, and now you can see the tears streaming out of his eyes. 

“Because I love you…you idiot.” Jimmy freezes, and even you are a little surprised at your own words, but it’s true. “People care about you- I care about you! I don't care that you can’t build giant castles or fight dragons, or that you get mad or sad sometimes-“ Your rambling a bit, trying to recover from the bombshell you just dropped. Jimmy was just staring at you, eyes wide. 

“…you…love me? Like…love, love me?!” He says slowly, not really paying attention to anything else you said after.

“I- this is probably not the best time to just- but, yea. I really do.” You can’t help but look down as you admit it, and when you look back up at him he’s crying all over again. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-“

He steps forward and wraps you in a hug, sobbing into your shoulder. You hug him back, rubbing his back and giving him some words of encouragement. Slowly his sobs get quieter, and eventually he pulls away from the hug.

“Um…” He sniffs. “I know I probably look like a mess right now-“

“Just a little.” You tease gently, wiping a stray tear off of his face.

“Right- but um…I love you too. Just so you know.” He avoids your eyes as he says it, then looks directly into them, gauging your reaction, as if to ensure this wasn’t all a joke.

“Like…?” You start.

“Yea…like that.” He gently bumps his forehead against yours, his regular confident smile returning to his face. “I cannot believe you fell for my Sheriff rizz.” You laugh, shaking your head.

“Don’t- don’t say rizz-” You try to suppress a giggle, pretending to be upset. “Great, now you ruined the moment.”

His bravado instantly drops, “Wait. No wait I didn’t mean to-” You shut him up by yanking his neckerchief and planting a kiss on his cheek. “To…to…” His face slowly reddens as his brain catches up to his speeding heart.

“Fixed it.” You say simply, chuckling softly as your Sheriff still reboots. “I think I’m the one with the rizz~” You laugh.

“Yea, no I see how that ruins the moment.” You laugh even harder at his reaction, and he can’t help but join in. After a few moments, you end up gazing into his bright hazel eyes.

“You know you can always talk to me when you're feeling upset.” You say seriously, taking one of his hands with both of your own. “Don’t just…no one should be alone when they're feeling like that.”

“...I know…You're right, as always.” He smiles appreciatively, grabbing one of your hands with his free one. You both stand there, swaying your interlocked hands gently back and forth, just enjoying the other's company.

“You know, when you're feeling up to it, why don’t I help you finish this…” You look over the half finished building, realizing you had no idea what it was actually supposed to be.

“Barn. It’s – ” he sighs, as if even bringing it up makes him feel tired all over again, “ – ‘supposed to be a barn.” 

“Barn! Right, and we could even ask Joel to help.” His eyes widen.

“No! You can’t tell him- Oh my god I’d never hear the end of it!” You laugh at the urgency in his voice.

“Ok! Ok. It’ll just be me. I’ll help you…” You let go of his hands and instead interlock your fingers behind his neck. “It’ll be our little secret.” He gazes into your eyes with a look only comparable to a lovesick puppy.

“Gosh I really wanna kiss you right now-” He lets out with a whisper, and then it’s your turn to get a little flustered.

“Well…then kiss me cowboy.” You lean in and he meets you halfway, and the kiss is just as sweet as the blonde Sheriff you share it with.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

[cyjammy]

Vox and Valentino: A Display of Trust

VALENTINO AND VOX

Not going to lie, I was the most excited for this dynamic and it just barely beats out Vox and Alastor’s rivalry. For four years they were both the big unknowns only seen for about 30 seconds in the pilot.

There were theories about their dynamic that I hoped to god wouldn’t be true in the show.

Because they didn’t make sense, they looked friendly with each other when they hunkered down for the extermination. And there was no way one sinner (Val) could create an empire alone.

AND I’M SO HAPPY THAT DID NOT HAPPEN.

Valentino being hot headed and brash was not on my 2024 bingo card, but I’m here for it.

(Yes, he’s a bad person. So is everyone else in the show. Alastor hangs out with cannibals and most likely participates. It’s a show about Hell.)

I LOVE HIM. I love everything about him down to the voice, the fluctuating emotions, the drama, the possessiveness — ALL. OF. IT.

I love me some fucking drama and I was LIVING for the back and forth between him and Vox.

Valentino is in charge because of the power he has.

He’s not a words guy, he uses action. He refuses to change his ways because that’s what got him to the top. He’s ready to hunt down Angel just for moving out.

Mind you he still goes to work and fulfills his side of the contract, Valentino just can’t handle not having control.

Micromanaging Angel’s life down to the smallest of details. Controlling who he can talk to, what he can wear.

He wants his plaything back in his sight, he doesn’t want him getting defiant. He wants his leash short so he doesn’t get any ideas.

And the way he gaslights the fuck out of Angel hit hard. Getting away from an abuser and then having the distance you finally need to heal, but being forced to be in contact with them is so restricting that it hurts.

Jesus that was fucking with me.

You don’t necessarily have to be smart to manipulate people, and Val knows that. Val plays the part of the fool so people underestimate him.

He feigns impulsiveness.

When asked for strategic advice he plays dumb.

That’s calculated, and it may just be written off as idiotic, but that’s probably what he wants.

He has to be playing dumb, there is no way he has survived this long by pure luck.

Vox makes do with him by his side because Val can gain trust and place sinners under his spell.

That makes him a valuable asset. Vox supplies the equipment and Valentino supplies the merchandise.

Because that’s all he considers those who are under his employ.

They’re things to be sold to an audience.

But Vox might not see the subtle ways Val messes with him.

Val’s a bratty, unsympathetic, monster that will do anything to get his way. With the guidance of someone with a more grounded personality removed from his issues is when he is able to see reason.

And Velvet can’t even do that, only Vox.

That shows respect and trust.

Even when Vox was spelling it out for him slowly it wasn’t a slight against him, it was a reminder and it held no malice.

If it did, Vox would have lost his temper as he did with Alastor. He kept himself measured for Val and reigned himself back in.

He may know that it won’t get him anywhere after dealing with him for so long. If Vox didn’t see Valentino as a worthwhile investment, he wouldn’t even go through the effort.

Vox knows the best way to get Valentino to listen.

Valentino is extremely self centered. Vox speaks in a way that makes Val want to care, while still making sure it benefits him as well.

“OUR brand”

“Any idea what YOU would look like chasing random whores around town”

“OUR image”

Their partnership is of the upmost importance. Vox needs to make sure the empire remains, that the Vs have their power. That they’re on top.

And that’s a goal Valentino can get behind.

Valentino backs off with disappointment, because he enjoys violence. And he wanted there to be a show.

So instead he throws out something that could really get under Vox’s skin.

Alastor.

Val could have used this information to cripple Vox, make him vulnerable during a time where he needed to stay focused.

But instead, he uses it now.

Val was bored, he knew how Vox would react, and he wanted a show.

And a show he received. Pressing all the right buttons to see his partner go mad.

I want to see more of Valentino. So far his actions could be read as surface level — dumb and erratic — or strategic.

As of now, I’m assuming he knows what he’s doing.

Anger clouds your judgement and both Vox and Val were subject to that effect within a few minutes. That doesn’t necessarily mean Val is a fool and that Vox calls ALL of the shots.

Val acts idiotic around his colleagues because he knows they won’t take advantage of him. Until I see how he is around Angel Dust outside of those voicemails or around his other employees is when that can be settled.

I’m hoping this is a strategic play, because that would be an amazing use of misdirection. All the signs are there, and it could be so.

I also love how Vox is never fearful of Val and vice versa. They both would take steps toward each other that would be misconstrued as advancing toward violence.

Neither flinch. They look a bit surprised, sure, but never scared.

The respect is there and I love the relationship Val and Vox have.

[leiawritesstories]

Best Dream Ever

Rowaelin Month 2024, Day 3: Idiots in Love @rowaelinscourt

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: some swearing, alcohol, ridiculous amounts of fluff

Enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Why the hell is someone knocking on my door at eight p.m.? Aelin grumbled to herself as she reluctantly walked to her front door, wine glass in hand. It had been a heck of a work week, and she was a grown woman who was entitled to her post-work drink. She rose up onto her tiptoes to look through the glass panes near the top of the door and did a double take when she found her neighbor from down the street standing on her porch, looking for all the world like he was about to bolt. 

“Rowan?” She opened the door. “You alright?” 

He ducked into her house, pushed the door closed, and looked frantically out the window, chest heaving like he was afraid for his life. “I am now, I think.” 

She raised a brow. “Look, I know we’re neighbors and friends and all that, but seriously. What the hell?” 

He held up his hands. “I’m sorry, Ae, I really am. I texted you like fifteen times.” 

“Ah, shit.” She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and waved it in front of him. “Dead, I’m sorry. Ran out of battery on the way home from work and honestly haven’t wanted to charge it.” 

“Fair enough.” He walked beside her down the hallway to her living room and flopped down on the couch he liked, groaning in relief when his head hit the throw pillows. 

“Long week for you too?” 

He grumbled something incomprehensible and moved the pillow off of his face. “Have you ever had six adult men show up at your door armed with gods-only-know how much booze and zero warning and proceed to set up shop in your house?” 

“Can’t say I have,” she drawled. 

“Wouldn’t recommend.” He raked his hands through his messy, pale hair. “I made the mistake of telling the guys that I got that deal with the MLB team, and they apparently decided that this was their sign to come into town and crash my weekend. Seems like I ‘don’t celebrate right,’ whatever the fuck that means.” 

Aelin hid her smile behind her wine. “Which one of the twins said that?” 

“Fen, of fucking course,” Rowan said dryly. “Who else d’you think could convince all the guys to drop everything and converge on my house for a weekend? We’re not in college anymore, not like he understands that.” 

“I’m sure he’ll come around eventually,” Aelin offered. “For now, though, you know you always have a place here. Just…you don’t need to crash for the night, do you?” 

Pink tinged Rowan’s cheeks, and he slipped his backpack off of his shoulders. “Well, now that you mention it…” 

She laughed and stood up. “You know where the spare room is, Ro. Want a beer or something?” 

“Sounds fuckin’ amazing.” He went down the hall to drop off his bag in her spare room and returned a few minutes later in sweatpants and an old university t-shirt. Gratefully, he took the beer bottle from her hand and tipped half its contents down his throat. “Fuck, that’s good.” 

“It’s from the case of ‘good stuff’ you dumped in my garage three weeks ago,” Aelin said, pairing her words with a poke to his side. “Quit using me as your beer overflow, Whitethorn.” 

“Who else could I trust not to drink it?” he grinned, slinging one arm around her shoulders. “If I let one of the guys keep it at their place, it’d be gone in a day, never mind that it’s a small batch craft brew that needs at least thirty-two hours of chilling before you can really get the tasting notes.” 

“Snob,” she teased, turquoise eyes sparkling with laughter. 

He smirked. “It’s called good taste, Ae, and you—” 

A fist thudded rapidly against Aelin’s front door. 

She looked at Rowan, and he looked back at her, eyes wide. “Please don’t let them in,” he whispered, and he took off down the hall to hide in the spare room. 

“Men,” she sighed. She strolled down the hallway, peered out the window, and cracked open her door just a few inches. “What the hell do you want, Moon Moon?” 

Grinning broadly and probably tipsily, Fenrys tried to lean on her doorframe and stumbled sideways before regaining his balance. “Where’s Rowie?” 

Aelin fixed the blonde man with a flat, unimpressed look. “Ask me in normal-people words, Fenny boy.” 

Fenrys inhaled dramatically. “My dear darling Aelin, have you seen Rowan lately? We came to his place to celebrate him getting the MLB deal, but we’d barely been there for an hour before he said he needed to grab something from the store. Haven’t seen the guy since.” 

“Does this look like the store, Moon Moon?” she deadpanned. 

“Nobody thought he was actually going to the store!” Fen protested. He tried to push open her door, but she clicked her tongue and fixed him with a look that made him stop in his tracks. 

“Fen, you’re a good friend, but this is my first work-free weekend in months, and if I have to miss any more of 10 Things I Hate About You, I will eviscerate you with my work heels. Okay?” 

“Leaving!” he yelped. “Text us if you know where Rowan is, though, yeah?” 

“You’re the ones at his place, you can text him,” she returned. “Goodnight, Moon Moon. Don’t fall off any rooftops again.” 

“It was one time!” he yelled, but she’d already closed the door. 

Aelin went back down to her living room, plopped onto the couch, and grumbled something rather unpleasant about the amount of men who banged on her door at all hours of the day. “Coast is clear, Whitethorn,” she called. 

He came back into the living room a minute later. “Thanks for handling him, Ae.” 

“Anything for a little bit of peace, right?” His huff of a laugh tugged at a thread low in her stomach, but she ignored the odd sensation. “Let me know if you need anything that you can’t find. I’m gonna go upstairs and watch brain-rotting chick flicks until I fall asleep, but you’re more than free to watch one of those docuseries you have such a hard-on for.” 

“Aelin!” Rowan’s face reddened, and he choked out her name in a shocked, strangled cough. “Gods, why’d you have to say it like that?” 

“Because you’re too cute when you’re all flustered, buzzard,” she laughed. “G’night!” She headed upstairs to her bathroom, and after a very long shower and a solid half hour of carefully applying her skincare, she tugged one of her favorite nightgowns over her head and rolled into her bed. She could pick up the faint sounds of water running in the guest bathroom down the hall, and coupled with the soft whir of her ceiling fan, she was soon asleep. 

Only to pop awake not quite three hours later. 

Groaning, she rolled onto her other side and closed her eyes, taking deep steady breaths to try and encourage her restless mind to quiet down. As soon as she managed to quiet her roiling mind, though, her stomach rumbled. 

Traitor. 

Aelin flopped onto her stomach and ignored the growly rumble it emitted in protest, but the more she tried to fall back asleep, the more her body resisted. Finally, in defeat, she muttered a string of curses under her breath and rolled out of bed. She pushed her feet into her slippers, flicked on her bedside lamp, and crept out of her room and down the hall. She took the stairs slowly, because at least half of them creaked loud enough to wake the whole street if stepped on too firmly, but she eventually made it out to the kitchen. The glowing numbers on the oven clock flashed 1:55, taunting her with the ridiculous hour. 

Quietly, Aelin pulled open the pantry door, scanning the shelves quickly and finding nothing that sounded particularly good. She moved over to the fridge and glanced inside, huffing in irritation when she didn’t immediately think of anything quick to grab. After a few minutes, she gave up and opened the freezer, her fingers closing around the pint carton of ice cream tucked into the door shelf. She got a spoon from the drawer and sat down at one of the barstools at the high-top counter, not bothering with a bowl. 

She was only a few bites into the deliciously rich triple chocolate when heavier footsteps creaked on the stairs and a very sleepy, very mussed Rowan half-stumbled into the kitchen. 

His bleary gaze wandered around the kitchen, skipping over her once before snapping back to where she sat with her ice cream. The corners of his mouth tipped up, and he mumbled unintelligibly to himself. “Don’t fall over,” she heard him mumble, and he slid his hand along the countertop to guide his steps as he crossed the kitchen. Straight over to her. 

“Hey, you.” She couldn’t be entirely sure whether he was awake or sleepwalking, so she left her spoon in the carton of ice cream and stood up. “Having a good dream, Ro?” 

“’Bout to get even better.” His arms looped around her waist, and he dipped his head and kissed her. A soft hitched gasp broke from her lips, and she slid one hand up the back of his neck into his messy hair and angled his face so she could kiss him properly. It was a long, drawn-out moment before he pulled back, head tilted back to catch a gulping breath, and his eyes snapped back to hers, clear and aware. “Best dream ever.” 

She blinked slowly. “Ro, are you asleep?” 

“I gotta be.” He passed the pad of his thumb over her lips. “It’s the only time I get to kiss you like this, Ae.” 

“Rowan,” she breathed, heart skipping in her chest. “I…I’m awake.” 

His jaw went slack, and he impulsively grabbed her hand. “Pinch me.” 

“What?” 

“Pinch me, Ae. Gotta know if I’m still dreaming.” Obligingly, she pinched the skin at the crease of his elbow, and he let out a tiny, high-pitched squeak. “Fuck, that—am I awake?” 

“I’d imagine so.” Her eyes traveled slowly downwards, until they landed on their linked hands. “This wasn’t what I was expecting when I came down for midnight ice cream.” Uncertainty clouded his face, and she squeezed his hand. “It’s better.” 

Hope, bright and buoyant, broke free in his grin. “Really?” 

“Really.” She closed the distance between them, rolled up onto her tiptoes to meet his lips. “I think I’ve had this dream before, but it’s better in real life.” And she kissed him.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@renxzs

@anarchiii

@fauna-flora11

[gojos-thot-patrol]

Idk bout you but I’m a sucker for possessive men, so I’d like to ask for some jealousy HCs for the JJK men. Thank uuuuuuu muah

My darling, I'd like nothing more than to give them to you 💜

Now Presenting...

Starring Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, and Ryomen Sukuna

Satoru Gojo

Gojo likes to think he’s not possessive at all. Key word: Think.

In reality, he’s deeply insecure, convinced he’s not good enough for you, and is obsessed, extremely concerned with not losing you.

This unholy concoction has led to an extremely possessive man.

Now, to be fair, He’s pretty good about keeping it in check. He’s not going to lose his mind cause he saw some asshole checking you out at the supermarket. He’s better than that.

Now, if said asshole tries to talk to you, that’s a completely different story. Then he’s literally grabbing you, arms around your waist and actively trying to give you a hickey while you talk to his new number one enemy.

And good fukin luck to you my friend if you call him out on it, cause now he’s convinced you liked that guy too.

Especially early on in your relationship, when he’s still guarded because he’s scared of getting hurt, he’s going to be straight up toxic about it. 

“No, it’s fine, really. If you like him so much, go talk to him. I just wanna know when you stopped caring about me.”

Honestly, you’re better off leaving him alone to let him work out his own shit. He’ll realize he was being an idiot, no doubt helped by the fact that you’re still here, but it’s gonna take 2 hours minimum. 

Gojo is not about to start a fight over some douche bag flirting with you. Mostly because he can not catch another a case. But that doesn’t mean he’s just going to sit by and let it happen, nay nay dear reader.

No, he’s just also going to also talk part in the conversation. Wrapping an arm around your waist and finding any excuse he can, no matter how weak, to drop the fact that he’s your boyfriend.

The exception being the moment the other person puts a hand on you. The moment that happens, all bets are off, and I hope you have bail money. He’s not going to murder them probably but you’re for sure going to be dealing with assault charges. 

Also, not to get NSFW, but the sex after? When He feels like he has to prove to himself he’s good enough for you and remind you that you belong to him? Good luck bestie.

Suguru Geto

This man is nothing but jealous all the time. If he had it his way, you would never leave the bedroom. . 

He’s quick to lay his claim on you. Holding you close to him and kissing you mid sentence so that whoever the person flirting with you is get’s the point. 

Afterwards though? On the way home? Silent treatment. When you do get him to talk?

“I just don’t understand. Why don’t you love me anymore?”

Yea, he’s gaslighting, gatekeeping, and girlbossing YOU into apologizing to HIM. 

I really can’t see this man as anything other than toxic, my god. 

Still, he doesn’t put up with anyone playing with his toys. If he sees you talking to anyone while out, he’s hugging you from behind, kissing your neck and loudly asking “Hey Darling, Who’s this?” 

That Who’s this is dripping in condescension and hatred. Because he does hate them. He hates anyone that could take you away from him.

Your friends are not immune to this btw. 

Slowly he starts to pull you away from your friends and integrate you into his friend group.

Not that he trusts them either. Nay nay, It’s just easier to keep an eye on you this way. 

He’s always reminding you that you’re his. Marking you, draping his jacket over you, conveniently forgetting to buy you more body wash so you have to use his, literally anything to get the point across that you were his. 

Like, this man has deemed himself your chair, cause if you're going to be together, he’s going to find any excuse he can to sit you on his lap.

Now, Suguru is not the type to get confrontational or physical. That being said, if you express that someone is making you uncomfortable, it's game over for them.

The upsides are: no silent treatment! Instead he’s dotting on you and himself apologetic for letting you be put into that situation.

The downside is now you have to clean blood off of him. Again, probably not murder, but for sure an assault charge.

Kento Nanami

Nanami honestly doesn’t have the time to get jealous. 

He trusts you more than anyone else. He has to to date you. So, he’s not normally worried about other people. 

If he starts to feel jealous, he’ll normally just talk to you about it.

Normally. 

The exception is when it comes to your friends. 

He’s not worried about any of them taking you away from him romantically, that thought has never crossed his mind. And for the most part, he likes your friends.

But he does get jealous of how much of your time you spend with them. And of course he doesn’t want to say anything because he knows it's ridiculous. 

But when he comes home from a long day of work to see you have your friends over, meaning he has to share you when his emotional capacity has already been filled? Yea, he's not happy.

And he doesn’t try to hide how possessive he feels in that moment either, he’s stealing your seat and placing you firmly on his lap for after work cuddles.

Oh, he’s embarrassing you in front of your friends? Oh well. Send them home then. 

He’s going to, discreetly,  kiss your neck, and rub your hips until you’re hot and bothered enough to send your friends home.

He just wants your time. It bugs him when other people preoccupy it, when he feels like you’re prioritizing other people over him. 

He can recognize that this is probably his most toxic trait, and he is working on it. 

But you’re still going to have to deal with him while he is

Ryomen Sukuna

Everyone else is an amature when it comes to being possessive/jealous Sukuna OWNS that shit

It’s literally his baseline. Other people can’t look at you without pissing off your guard dog.

He’s your guard dog btw. 

They don’t even have to be flirting! If someones talking to you, he is holding you close and actively glaring at them until they leave you alone.

And if they are flirting, well I hope they're cool with whatever god they worship. Cause they’re about to meet said god. 

Sukuna is insistent that you are his and his alone. It’s why he even takes the time to mark you up all pretty like he has. So other people can see that.

So if someones dumb enough to see your lovingly bruised neck and still flirt with you then as far as he’s concerned, he’s doing the gene pool a favor by taking them out of it. 

God forbid he thinks you’re into it. 

QUICK NSFW WARNING

He will slaughter your new toy and fuck you until you can’t walk in front of the corpse. You won't be able to walk for weeks if ever again from the punishing he’s going to put you through.

OK, NSFW OVER

Ideally, your best bet is to tell him the moment that you realize someone is flirting with you. Even if they’re not necessarily making you uncomfortable, better to keep your life than theirs, right? 

Hell, you might even get a reward for being so vigilant. 

Honestly I need to write an entire Yandere Sukuna fic cause he is made for it. He is THE most Yandere character.

[tiddygame]

hello im sorry i wrote more for @myriadblvck ’s streamer au ghoap

I time travelled and around 4,000 words magically appeared in a document titled: "you didn't juju on the fucking beat soap" I think I was possessed by something. anyways here’s that:

tw: is it a panic attack? is it just typical ghost angst? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ just be careful it's mostly fluffy (ghost is mean to himself cause he almost kissed soap on the forehead)

also i just realized after i wrote this whole thing, this is based on my general knowledge of dog tags… as an american. writing about the british military. so if you know your shit about the british military, uhh sorry in advance. my bad. from a very brief search i think a lot of it’s the same or at least same enough but this might hurt for people that know a thing or two. whoops!

fun fact: did you know for a brief stint (iirc, >40 years from around 1960s to 2010ish) the american military was printing soldiers’ ss numbers on their tags? yeah can’t imagine why they switched back to serial numbers.

Ghost had been pacing outside of his office for three minutes before he actually entered. When he did, he didn’t say a word. Just sat down in one of the chairs, fidgeting. It wasn't that uncommon of an occurrence, he was normally either gathering his thoughts before talking to Price about something more personal or hiding from what/whoever he didn't feel like dealing with.

When it came to mission debriefs, he was clear and concise. However, personal matters were a different story, and based on the way he anxiously opened and closed his hand, he'd guess this was a personal matter.

Price didn’t ask. He knew that whatever it was Simon needed to say would come out eventually. For now, he continued filling out paperwork and trying to figure out what it was that had Ghost so worked up.

Honestly, there wasn't much guesswork involved. Chances were, it was probably yet another leave request. He knew from Gaz (who was such an awful gossip he sometimes wondered how the man made it through interrogation training) that Simon had been visiting some social media person he had taken a liking to.

(Look, yes, Price knew about Twitch and live streaming and everything. He’s not actually that old. However, as long as he kept up the front of the old man who complained about the keyboard on his phone being too small, he didn’t have to deal with social media. Sure, it caused all of them to joke that he was geriatric and on his last legs, but he was able to convince Roach that he doesn’t know what TikTok is, meaning he wasn’t in charge of reviewing all the bullshit he and Gaz posted. A fair trade if you ask him.)

He also knew that Gaz was convinced the two were in love to the point that he and Roach had a bet going to see when they would get together. Price thought it was rather stupid, but he had to admire their ability to keep it under wraps; if the lieutenant found out they’d been placing monetary bets on his love life, he had a feeling he would need to find replacements for the 141.

Regardless, Price hoped that one day Simon would tell him about the friend but, until then, he was happy to fill out any paperwork that would get the poor man off base. God knows that idiot needs a vacation.

Simon was bouncing his leg, messing with his fingers, and staring off into space.

Three of his nervous habits at once? He must be even more worked up about this than Price thought. But, he was a patient man. It was about seven minutes of companionable silence before Simon spoke.

“I need replacement dog tags. I seem to have lost mine.”

Price looked up. He could see the chain around his neck and the outline of them still under his shirt.

"You do?" Price shuffled his documents around, eventually finding a blank piece of paper he could write on.

"Yes sir."

“And do you know what happened to them?”

“I believe they were knocked off during the fight from the last mission. I didn’t notice until later that night when we were back at base.”

Price paused and looked up from where he had been writing.

The last mission had been an odd one. Ghost normally stuck further away, their eagle-eyed lieutenant typically stayed at long to mid-range, watching for hostiles and making sure whoever else was in the field wouldn’t get caught off guard by someone they hadn’t seen.

During the last mission, he decided to engage at close range, a far cry from his usual approach of sniping hostiles from the shadows.

At one point, their lieutenant had been tackled and almost strangled. The fight had pretty much ended, his attacker was the only one left there. Ghost, being The Ghost, dispatched him with ease, but it stuck out to Price. Ghost may prefer to stay further back, but that didn’t mean that his hand-to-hand combat skills were lacking by any means.

He remembered thinking at the time that it was a clumsy mistake, that Ghost would have had to be intentionally trying to fuck up to get knocked down. He assumed the man had just been caught off guard, but he knew that theory wouldn’t hold up to any scrutiny. Ghost isn’t one to get caught off guard.

What was stranger yet still was Ghost specifically pointing it out in his mission report, calling even more attention to it.

Price set his pen down and leaned back in his chair.

“You planned this?”

“I plead the fifth,” said the British man.

Price just continued to stare, curious to see if this was actually going where he thought it was going.

“Is this off the record?” Simon eventually asked.

“Of course,” almost everything the 141 did was of dubious legality. Not reporting a conversation about possible wasted assets was far from the worst thing that had been swept under the rug.

“Then yes.”

“Why?”

Simon didn’t answer. Price waited, giving the man time to gather his thoughts, but based on the way his mouth opened and closed before he slumped in his chair, it seemed he didn’t know what to say at all.

Price had an inkling he might know what this was about.

“You know, Gaz likes to keep me informed,” Ghost looked up at him, somewhat panicked yet resigned, like he already knew what Price was going to say.

“He tells me you have a certain someone you’ve been visiting?”

“Yes.”

“Is this person a friend or…?” Ghost once again paused, calculating the potential consequences of his available responses.

He didn’t answer.

“Hmm,” Price paused, wondering how far to push before he continued, “You want to give this person your old dog tags?”

“Yes.”

Of course he would pre-plan “losing” his dog tags. Price mentally chuckled, leave it to Simon to be such a sap that he wanted to give someone his dog tags yet still make sure to follow protocol so he never actually risked going without them.

He had to hand it to him, it wasn’t a bad plan.

Price had a smile now, knowing his grumpy hard-ass lieutenant had a sweetheart he wanted to be sappy with.

“Romantic or platonic?” Price tried again.

“… I don’t know,” he’d never seen Simon look quite so… forlorn.

Hmm… That would explain his hesitancy.

He was pushing how much Simon was willing to divulge.

“And does this person know the significance of you giving them your dog tags?”

Well, curiosity killed the cat…

“No, they don’t.”

…But satisfaction brought it back. How interesting, the plot thickens.

“Do you plan on telling them?”

There was a long pause, after which it dawned on Price, “You want to give them your dog tags because they don’t know.”

It wasn’t a question, he already knew. Simon somehow slumped further, attempting to hide his face as if he weren’t wearing a balaclava.

His grumpy hard-ass lieutenant. Absolutely smitten with someone yet too shy to say anything, deciding on a quiet confession, one they likely wouldn’t pick up on.

Price chuckled, jotting down the necessary information he would need when he got his hands on the right paperwork, polishing up some of the details of Ghost’s story to make it more believable, before reading off what he had written to Ghost to make sure he got everything right. Ghost nodded once, and that was that.

“Replacement tags will probably be here in two to three weeks.”

“I would like to request leave for two to three weeks from now.”

Price handed him the form, having already grabbed it. He noticed how the man seemed to calm at just the thought of getting to visit his mystery person.

Oh, he thought to himself.

I am definitely joining Roach and Gaz’s bet.

<><><><>

They were lying on the daybed in his streaming room, or, well…

No, that’s not quite right.

Simon was lying on the daybed.

Johnny was lying on top of Simon.

His computer was still softly playing quiet (non-DMCA) music from where his stream had just ended. Instead of turning it off, he had decided to unplug his headset and leave it on, the music just loud enough to be heard.

Simon was sleepily scrolling through his phone, trying to pretend like he hadn’t almost dropped several times while dozing off, desperately trying to stay awake. Johnny had watched his struggle and decided to lay down right on top of Simon, not even trying to pretend like he was trying to fit on the remaining space on the daybed. Why would he when Simon was right there?

It was meant to be a joke, having thrown himself on top of him to annoy the man into sleeping on an actual bed (he claimed he wasn’t tired but the comically loose grip on his phone and the waking world said otherwise.) However, unfortunately for said sleepy man, Simon was very, very comfortable.

His head was resting on Simon’s chest, arms under his back like he actually was just a pillow, one hand reaching higher to feel where Simon’s hair had begun to grow out slightly.

I wonder if he would let me help him cut it…

Simon had said he was like a clingy cat, his free hand running through his hair in the same manner one would pet a cat to prove his point. The joke's on him though, he likes it.

Simon had tried to stop but Johnny didn’t let him, threatening to tickle him if he did.

(“I’m not ticklish, I just don’t want you throwing a tantrum.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever you say,” he was definitely ticklish, and one of these days he was going to prove it.)

At some point, Simon had given up on keeping a grip on his phone, letting it drop to the side. They would probably have to go digging through the cushions to get it out of whatever crevice it had fallen to. As of right now, the idea of ever leaving his spot was comical at best.

The sun had begun to set, orange and pink tinted light filtering through the sheer curtains, making everything look more like a dream. Or maybe it was just the proximity to the man below him that was making him feel so serene.

Johnny took a second to inhale and exhale slowly, appreciating the moment. He hoped that this memory, this beautiful tranquility with Simon, would be something he cherished for a long time to come.

He knew that they had things to do. Soon, Simon would be catching a flight at some ungodly hour, headed back to save the world yet again. But for now, he was happy to nap away in their own little bubble. He never was a religious man but here in the arms of Simon Riley, he was tempted to think heaven was real, and that it was right in front of him.

“I almost forgot,” Simon mumbled, not sounding any more awake than he looked, reaching up for the collar of his shirt. Thankfully, the hand that was running his hair remained. He didn’t like proving the cocky bastard right, but he probably would have thrown a tantrum had he tried to remove it.

“They had some fuck up along the line or something and accidentally printed me an extra set of dog tags. I was just gonna toss ‘em but thought you might want—”

Johnny was now wide awake, sitting up and yanking the chain out of his hands.

“Don’t you fucking dare throw them away, of course I want them!” Simon’s face reddened, a frequent treat for Johnny now that he had gotten more comfortable going without the mask. Simon might have been good at keeping a poker face, but without his mask, he was a blushing mess.

He wondered if the blush was from his obvious jubilation at the gift or if it was because he was now straddling the man. Such pesky details, however, (even ones that would keep future Johnny awake at night) were far less important than examining the necklace in his hands.

It was obvious this was the older set, the metal worn and dented in some spots though the writing was still clearly visible.

“Calm down, I’m not going to take it from you,” the gruff tone was severely undermined by the aforementioned blush. It was hard to sound tough while half asleep on a daybed and being used as another man’s pillow.

Johnny stared at them for a little bit longer, feeling every dent and wondering the story behind how they got there, before putting them on.

He smiled at the man under him, “How do I look?”

He was going to joke, asking if he looked like a rough and tough soldier ready for war, but something in Simon’s eyes made him stop short.

He was looking with… with… Reverence was far too intense of a word for the softness of the moment but it was the only word that came to mind.

Simon reached up with his hand, grabbing the tags, his knuckles grazing his chest.

Well, that’s just fucking unfair.

Simon was supposed to be the blushy one. Not him, goddammit!

Though, he thinks when they make eye contact, they end up tied for who is blushing the most. They stare for a while, maybe it should have felt awkward but it was too adoring for either to feel any form of uncomfortability.

Neither moved.

It was Johnny that broke first, smiling at him, yet again tracing all of the scars he could see. It was his new favorite hobby, especially when Simon would blush making the scars on his face all the more visible.

He took one more second to sleepily appreciate the man before him, then went back to using him as a pillow. His hands went back to where they were before, one under Simon’s back and one playing with his hair. His head, however, did not fall back to his chest, instead resting in the crook of his neck and shoulder.

Simon’s hand returned to running through his hair, his other now coming up to rest on his back, rubbing up and down a few times before the sleepiness from earlier fully returned with his hand stopping somewhere around the small of his back.

Johnny leaned up slightly and gave a chaste kiss to the part of his neck that he could reach, then settled back to where he was. The hand in his hair paused.

“Thank you, Simon.”

A second of delay, and then the hand continued.

“You’re welcome, Johnny.”

Simon shuffled slightly, getting comfy before—

A kiss, on his forehead.

He couldn’t stop the blush and smile if he wanted to. He snuggled closer before drifting off to sleep.

When he woke, he was in his bed, practically tucked in. His window had been opened slightly, blackout curtains that had been drawn closed now swaying slightly with the breeze. When he focused, he realized he could smell petrichor and hear heavy rainfall outside with the occasional grumble of thunder.

There was a note on his nightstand. As he expected, it was Simon’s handwriting, apologizing for not waking him up before he left. It said that he had made breakfast for him (pancakes, with enough for when his sister would inevitably try to steal them), that he made sure to lock the front door, and left the window cracked.

He giggled sleepily at the last line. Regardless of the context, it always made Simon anxious to have the curtains open, much less to leave a window open. But, he also must've known how much Johnny loved the rain and set his worries aside, just this once, so he could wake up to the rain.

He set the note down and flopped back onto his pillows, his hand felt something cold and he remembered.

The dog tags.

John MacTavish is no stranger to crushes and heartbreaks.

He's had high school sweethearts, been in and out of love, he knows his way around the world of dating. Which is why he most certainly does not squeal and kick his legs while holding the tags like some kid with their first crush.

He did it like a grown man, thank you very much.

He grabbed his phone and sent Simon the worst pun he could think of; it was tradition at this point to send him some god-awful joke before his flight.

Simon has probably already forgotten about the whole exchange. He probably woke up and assumed he threw them away when he noticed he wasn't wearing them. It was probably stupid, an insignificant gesture with no meaning. But to Johnny, it felt like everything.

He sighed dreamily at the ceiling and felt the cool metal once more. Thunder roared outside. He thought about how he had felt in the man's arms. Thought about how much he wanted that again.

God.

His phone dinged and he immediately reached over to grab it.

I'm fucked, aren't I?

<><><><>

Elsewhere, Ghost was in an airport terminal, having far too much time to think.

Over the weekend, it was almost impressive how many times Ghost had talked himself into and back out of giving Soap his dog tags. He really hoped he hadn't made a mistake.

Simon felt the spot that Johnny had kissed and wondered if he remembered it. Wondered if he had meant it.

Simon thought about how Johnny had looked cradled in his arms when he carried him to his room, the way he had reached out for him when he laid him in bed. The way he had grabbed his wrist and clung to it, grumbling when Simon tried to pull it back.

If asked, he'd say that he had woken up late and that's why he was so far behind schedule. He'd keep the part where he sat there, kneeled in front of Johnny's bed, waiting for him to fall back into a deep enough sleep to pull his arm away all to himself. After all, it would have been rude to wake him up, no?

He had made sure to plug up his phone and, upon seeing the forecasted weather, hesitated before opening the window. It was only barely cracked, just enough for the sounds of the outside world to shamble in, but not so wide as to worry about water damage. He stared at it, convincing himself not to worry and that Johnny would like waking up to the fresh air.

He turned back to make sure the man was still asleep, still comfy, but stopped for a moment. He approached the bed and hesitated before running his fingers through his stupid haircut, almost wishing the man would grab his arm and give him an excuse to stay.

He didn't. Simon did, however, lean in to give him one last kiss on the forehead as some stupidly sappy goodbye, before his brain turned back on and he ripped himself away.

What the fuck is wrong with you? What? He grabs your arm in your sleep so you feel entitled to be able to kiss him?

Simon backed away, staring at the hand that had just been in his hair. He felt dirty.

For fuck’s sake, relax. It's not that big of a deal, you did it earlier; the man fell asleep in your arms, a forehead kiss isn't too much of a stretch.

He went to the kitchen and scrubbed his hands for a while, only stopping when he thought about how much water he was wasting. He still felt dirty.

Not a stretch? You don't get to decide that. How would you feel if someone tried to kiss you while you were unconscious? If they said that they felt they should be allowed to do so because you fell asleep?

He had started making pancakes. Something quick, easy, and reheatable for when Soap woke up. Like making him breakfast would make up for trying to kiss him in his sleep.

Why can't you just be normal?

Eventually, and after a run-in with Soap’s hell-spawn of a twin, he had to leave. The time on his phone showed that he should probably already be halfway to the airport by now but he has always been a selfish man.

He had snagged some paper and left Soap a quick note, hoping the apology would make him feel better about worse sins than not waking him up. It didn't.

He stared at the man for a second, admiring him, before he reminded himself that he was a fucking creep and left.

The storm left the flight delayed by 1.5 hours. Ghost had sat waiting, wireless headphones on and connected, but not playing anything. He had far too much time to think.

Simon thought about how Johnny had looked, his dog tags around his neck, silhouetted by the fading light, the sun behind his head as if even the stars knew they could never compare to him.

He stood and started pacing. Amongst the screaming children, feuding families, and people who think they're entitled to listen to their music without headphones, one middle-aged man having an existential crisis didn't stick out.

He thought about how he had never understood weighted blankets so well until Johnny had thrown himself on top of him. It should've hurt. He should've been annoyed. Instead, Simon selfishly hoped he would never get up.

It took him a while to put his finger on what he had been feeling exactly. Finally, he realized.

There, in that moment, he had never been so happy to be alive. It was a startling emotion to discern amongst the swath of negativity he normally felt. It startled him so much, he had snapped out of his reverie and stopped short in his pacing. When he checked the time, he saw he had one missed text from Johnny.

Soap (art streamer): i was trying to think of an airplane joke but none of them landed

Simon chuckled and sat down; he almost forgot about their dumb little tradition.

Ghost: Disliked.

Soap (art streamer): everyone is so mean 2 me 💔

Ghost: It is not my fault your pun was so Boeing.

Soap (art streamer): well i thought i could wing it

Ghost: Did you look up what giving do-

Ghost: About the tags, you

Ghost: I think you make me want to live

Ghost sighed and fell back further into his seat, coming to a conclusion that his subconscious had long ago discovered.

I'm in love, aren't I?

Soap (art streamer): speechless huh? finally, the Wright reaction to my comedic genius

Ghost: Absolutely awful, Mactavish.

Soap (art streamer): :D

Took you long enough, dumbass.

<><><><>

Soap’s twin spent a good bit of time staring at her brother's new accessory.

“Is something wrong?” he challenged, hoping she wasn't in a bothersome mood.

She failed miserably at hiding her shit-eating grin but didn't care.

“Nope!” she replied.

She had run into Ghost early that morning before he left.

"Detergent."

She was pretty sure he never even learned her name, just jumped straight into calling her detergent.

"Ghoul," she greeted, glaring at the man.

Being required by law to not trust him, she checked on her brother as he was still gathering his things and noticed the necklace.

“You gave him your dog tags,” she accused, like she was framing him for murder.

“Yes, I did,” he replied casually, as per usual robbing her of the fight she so desperately wanted to pick.

“Did you tell him what it means?”

“...What does it mean?”

Damn, he was good. If she wasn't convinced that he was the devil incarnate, she might have fallen for his feigned ignorance.

“100 bucks and you buy my silence.”

“I don't know what you mean.”

“200 then.”

“It doesn't even mean anything.”

“Hmm. Well, I suppose you might be right… JOHN!” their neighbors were probably going to complain.

“What the fuck are you doing?” ooh he was getting panicked now.

“If it doesn't matter then you won't mind me telling him to look it up,” she started walking to his room, “JOHNSON!”

“Fucking Christ, woman! Just— Fucking— Here.”

He pulled out his wallet and started counting bills. Damn, that was easier than she thought.

“What did you say? 100?”

“Nope! That was before inflation. Now it’s 300.”

“What the hell is wrong with you? You said 200!”

“So you admit you tried to scam me?”

“Just take the 100 and g-”

She didn't even get to yell, he reached for more before she could finish taking a deep breath in.

“Just shut the fuck up! Here! Three fucking hundred!”

She was tempted to raise her price further, but she was no gambler, she was a strategist. She knew a defeated man when she saw one. If she played this right, she could extort money out of him for a long time to come.

Something, something, vampires not fully killing their victims and all that.

She took the money, counted it, and then held out her hand to shake.

“It was a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Wraith!”

He didn't shake her hand.

“Christ, both of you are awful.”

He packed his stuff and left, broke, broken, and defeated.

She ate as many pancakes as she could, rich and victorious.

She thought about how much power, how much blackmail she had in this moment.

“I’m fantastic actually,” she walked to her room.

I am going to be so fucking rich by the time they get their shit together.

[twilightakiishi]

summary: kakucho is shy around you, and has a very dramatic inner monologue. ft. izana, ran, rindou, and shion.

word count: 1.8k

genre: fluff. crack/comedy?

warnings: f! reader, kaku is very nervous, he refers to his scar, but it isn’t really talked about, this is really the first time i've posted fic so let me know if i missed anything!

“everybody shut up.” izana stares intensely into the corner of the banquet hall with a hand held out to silence ran, rindou, and shion. the trio pause mid conversation to follow their leader’s gaze. 

 “oh! they put out more punch. ima go get—”

izana swings an arm across shion’s chest, catapulting the blond back to where he was standing before, alongside rindou. “if you ruin this, i’ll put rindou in charge of ruining your joints.”

the three of them exchange a confused look, brows furrowed, then turn back to izana curiously.

 “ruin what, exactly?” ran questions.

 izana snaps his head toward the three of them, “kakucho’s moment. don’t you see who he’s speaking to?”

 with the way kakucho is carrying himself right now, if izana hadn’t pointed him out, they never would’ve spotted him. kakucho, usually headstrong and self-assured, standing tall and intimidating on a normal day, is currently fidgeting with his jewelry and looking everywhere except at the girl in front of him. it makes rindou cringe, and ran huffs out a laugh at his brother’s expression.

“and how exactly is this his…moment?”

“he looks like he’d rather be doing anything than talking to that person.”

“seriously. dude looks miserable. what’s his deal?”

izana sighs, exasperated, “can you three shut up? i’m trying to read their lips and i can’t concentrate with your yapping.”

“...doesn’t look like he’s saying much.” rindou notes.

“not with his mouth at least. man is screaming internally, by the looks of him, though.” 

kakucho senses eyes on him from afar, and takes that as an opportunity to once again avert his eyes from yours. the sight of izana and the three idiots watching him with amusement is the last thing he needs right now. if he keeps fumbling this hard, he’ll never hear the end of it from them.

“kaku-chan? you good?” your voice snaps him back to reality. 

“huh? me? yeah. yeah, i’m…” his eyes flicker back over to where his friends are standing, and shion is giving him an obnoxious double thumbs up as izana slaps both his arms down to his sides. he sighs, and looks back to you, “i’m fine. great, even,” he chuckles nervously and downs his entire cup of punch to alleviate the dryness in his mouth. except, he doesn’t swallow soon enough, and the last bits of punch dribble down his chin onto his dress shirt. you’re blowing it, kakucho, he thinks to himself.

you try to hide a giggle behind your hand, but he clocks it, and wishes he could just crawl into a hole and never emerge again. i guess it’s time to pull a haitani and completely change my hairstyle. i wonder what color would make me unrecognizable. maybe i even go bald. and i also leave japan. and i’ll bulk up so big, i’ll have to buy a whole new wardrobe. yeah, this could work…

his thoughts are interrupted when he feels your hand on his chest, dabbing the liquid away with a napkin. he freezes, and slowly looks down to see your face twisted in concentration, with that small little smile that never really leaves your lips. you’re so pretty up close. he wants to brush away the strands of hair that are sticking to your lipgloss, but he thinks if he moves even an inch, he might wake up in a cold sweat. this is a dream, right? yeah. yeah, must be. that’s why i’m so warm i feel like i could pass out, and that’s why i can’t hear her, even though her lips are moving. 

…wait. “huh?”

you giggle again, and repeat louder, “i said, it’s a good thing your shirt is red. the punch is the same exact color,” after careful consideration, you add, “your eye, too.” 

“my… my eye?”

“yeah. your shirt and your eye are the same color.” his cheeks are now, too, but you think you might finally be getting some words out of him, so you decide to keep that to yourself. “did you do that on purpose? I didn’t know you were so detail-oriented, kaku-chan.” 

he laughs nervously at the nickname you give him. you overheard takemichi calling him that one day, and you haven’t called him anything else since. he makes a mental note to thank takemichi for that next time he sees him. 

“uh, yeah! totally.” he’s lying through his teeth. he knows damn well kokonoi helped him put his outfit together, but he’s not giving that asshole any credit right now. he’ll thank him later. this is his moment.

you don’t buy it for a second. he’s a terrible liar, and it’s kind of endearing. you play along anyway. “well, you clean up real nice. it’s nice to see you dressed up for a change. classy. and i’m a fan of the grown out hair.” he really wasn’t expecting you to go from making a simple observation to complimenting his entire appearance, and he feels like he could faint again. play it cool, kakucho. 

“oh. i really just grew it out to kinda…,” he motions to his scar, “cover this up a little bit.” he has no idea why he even pointed out the one thing he doesn’t like to bring attention to. in his head, he is chasing around a little kakucho with a mallet, calling him stupid and spouting various threats.

you furrow your brows and tilt your head, and his heart melts a little. “why, though?” you question.

he doesn’t know what you mean, or what kind of answer you’re expecting. but ran told him once that girls don’t like sob stories, and rindou told him once that girls like honest guys. 

so he shrugs. “‘cause i know it’s not the easiest on the eyes.”

you frown a bit, and then smile sweetly. “well…i like it on you. it makes you look unique. in a good way.”

he blinks a few times, and his eyes grow ten times in size, seemingly in slow motion. 

“i’m sorry, did i upset you?” your eyes flicker between his, unsure if you had crossed a boundary.

“n-no!” he clears his throat, and deepens his voice a bit, “no. i just…i was just shocked, is all.”

“oh. well, don’t be. a handsome guy like you shouldn't be shocked to receive a compliment,” you laugh.

you’re trying to kill him, he thinks. before he can even begin to think of how to respond to that, you’re walking away to the table your friends are at. he sighs. well, consider her fumbled. can’t wait to hear what spectacular advice izana has for me this time. he turns around, prepared for the walk of shame back to his own table, but when he meets their eyes, izana is wearing a knowing smile, the haitanis are mouthing words he can’t recognize from this far and shaking their heads side to side, and shion is peeking his eyes out from between his fingers. kakucho has no idea what to make from those reactions, until he feels a light tap on his shoulder, and he spins around to see you. 

“trying to get away from me already?” you raise an eyebrow at him, who’s looking at you like you grew another head.

“wha- no! you– i…uh, i thought–” he cuts himself off when he hears your laugh again, and his body goes tense for the millionth time tonight when you reach up to pat your hand against his chest. 

“i’m just messing with you. talk to me more later, yeah?”

“yeah…for sure.” it comes out more breathily than he would’ve liked, but really, he feels lucky to still be standing right now. you take your hand off his chest and start to turn to walk back to your table. 

he blurts out your name, with no plan of what he’s going to say next. you look at him expectantly, “yeah?” shit. please, for the love of god, don’t fuck this up right now.

“by the way, you know, uh, for the record…you look pretty tonight…also.” he doesn't dare make eye contact with you until a few seconds after he finishes his sentence. to his relief, the look on your face isn’t one of unease or disgust. in fact, you look…bashful. happy, even. 

“thank you, kaku. you’re too sweet.” you flash him another sweet smile before you part ways with him.

he stands there for a few seconds, unmoving, trying to process what just happened. he doesn’t have a lot of time to think about it before he hears his name being called from the opposite direction, and his boys are waving him over with proud smiles on their faces. fuck. he cringes a bit remembering that they were watching the whole ordeal. 

on his return to the table, he gets four sturdy slaps on the back and about a million rapid fire questions coming from the haitanis and shion. 

“soooo? when’s the wedding? or the restraining order. i couldn’t really tell what was going on.” izana smacks shion on the back of the head. “ow– what the hell was that for?!”

that night, walking back to their respective homes, shion flings an arm around kakucho’s shoulder, much to his dismay. “I’m proud of you, man, i honestly thought you had, like, no rizz, and you kinda looked like a virgin out there–”

ran and rindou speak amongst themselves, “i know madarame is not talking about looking like a rizzless virgin right now.” “dude’s taken one too many hits to the cranium, brother.” 

“–eh?? what’s in your pocket?”

kakucho furrows his brow and he digs around in the pocket of his suit jacket, not recalling putting anything in there before he left. suddenly, he remembers the way your hand lingered over his chest, and he pulls out a napkin with a few blotches of red punch on the corner, unfolding it to see your name and number scribbled on it, followed by a messy little heart and a smiley face. a smirk stretches across his lips, and he turns the napkin around to the trio without a word. 

“mannnn, wipe that stupid smirk off your face, kakucho. you got no game, you just met a girl who’s charmed by losers.”

izana whips his head around. “shion. what did i tell you earlier? about rindou? hm?”  

shion’s arms flail around helplessly. “i’m not ruining shit!”

the haitanis roll their eyes and swat at him. “shut the fuck up shion!” “yeah man, at least he got her number, you’re still bitchless.” madarame mumbles something under his breath with a pout. 

kakucho can’t even pretend to care. the bickering goes right over his head as he’s typing your number into his phone with a soft smile, fully ready to redeem himself with the second chance you’ve so graciously given him.

dividers by @bunnysrph &lt;3

[lanymme]

Hi! : ) If fic requests are still open, can I ask for some HakuRin? Perhaps them being gay idiots while the student council are getting a little tired of their oblivious flirting?

It would be my pleasure! I love these two.

Can you believe they gave extraverse Rin such an interesting fetish and then never did anything with it?? Criminal.

--

Hakuno Kishinami gazes warily down the steps leading out of Elizabeth’s labyrinth and into the final floors before the core.

“… It’s almost showtime. Are you stocked up on healing items? If you don’t have enough, head back and stock up at the Commissary. The jamming is up, but if Meltryllis is waiting for us, you’ll end up fighting. Healing is fundamental; the most powerful strategy."

As always, Rin is right. Hakuno may not remember everything, but she knows she has always been relying on this girl to help her through difficult situations, even before they all formed the student council.

Ignoring Gilgamesh’s insensitive comments, she has to agree with him that, one way or another, her friend is one competent woman. She’s glad they’re on the same side.

She makes her way over to the gateway leading back to the school grounds, and leaves Elizabeth’s labyrinth behind. Vertigo comes over her as she enters that brief white void, and her senses fade back into attunement in the familiar student grounds. As always, the relief from the strange pressure of the labyrinth, so far under the dark waters of the Lunar Sea, is welcome.

Gilgamesh draws up next to her, armor clinking, and makes a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Go. Make your preparations. I have matters to attend to. Don’t keep me waiting.”

In a scatter of blue particles, he disappears, leaving Hakuno alone in the schoolyard. Waving to the contemplative NPC who always sits out against the wall and offers advice, she slides the door open and heads into their little refuge. The wood creaks familiarly underfoot as she crosses the floor.

Truthfully, it’s a relief. She knows she’ll have to face Meltryllis eventually, but she’s still nervous. It’s hard not to think what could happen if that woman catches her, to make peace with the fact that she ultimately has not control over whether they’re attacked. Gilgamesh is the most powerful trump card she could ask for, and even still…

She can't help remembering that spiked kneeplate, charging toward her. The bloodlust in that lovely voice.

Everyone they've lost.

She shivers.

That suspicious priest bows to her, but she can’t deal with him right at the moment. She needs some time with her thoughts.

So she heads up the stairs, and passes the Student Council Room where Rin and Rani are working hard as always, and makes her way to her own personal room to sit down. She closes her eyes, and takes a few deep breaths. It’s all going to work out, if they just keep doing their best, and never give up. The predictions of Seven Days Later don’t have to come true: they can stop it. She has to believe that.

Suddenly, she hears a knock and a polite cough at her door.

Her heart beats a little faster. She checks to make sure it’s all clean.

“Come in!”

Rin slides open her door and steps inside, shutting it behind her. Her face is a little flushed.

“Look!” She says, before Hakuno can say anything. “I just came by to do a follow up exam on you. It was my first time using the Ten Thousand Colored Stagnation, and I want to make sure I didn’t misplace anything in your frame when I changed your spiritron granularity.”

Hakuno considers reminding her that Sakura’s infirmary is just downstairs, but wisely decides against it.

“Okay,” she says. “Thank you. I’m glad to have someone like Rin looking after me. I’m in your hands, as always.”

Rin nods, matter-of-factly, and pulls her over to sit on the bed, a lingering hand resting on her shoulder.

She knows Rin handled it perfectly. But if Rin needs to confirm it for herself, that’s just as important.

Briefly, she communicates to Gilgamesh that she’s receiving a checkup, and that she might be a little bit late. All she receives in return is his laughter. Seriously, what a difficult Servant.

“Okay,” Rin says, imperiously. “Now strip.”

—

She sits there on the bed, uniform shirt off, while Rin examines her back, cool, slender fingers alternating between laying against her skin and clinking on her virtual keyboard. It’s, well. She’s a healthy young lady. It’s just a little embarrassing that Rin can probably see every change in her vitals.

Anyway, this is nice. She smiles fondly while her lecturer continues.

“—and you’re going to buy healing items and equipment like I said, right? You know all of us are relying on you. You have to do whatever you can to maximize your chances of survival, especially against an opponent like Meltyllis. Supplies and preparation are an essential factor in any form of conflict.”

“Of course! I always listen to Rin’s advice—I know I can always count on your support. I just. Well. Had to take a moment to calm my nerves.”

The next touch against her back is slightly less clinical, slightly more sentimental.

The permeable boundary between those two attitudes is just not fair to her heart.

“Anyway, I have more than enough money to throw around as it stands. It might feel nice to just dump a bunch of Sakurament into—Rin?”

Her friend freezes, hand against her back. One of her fingers twitches.

Ah. Right.

She remembers the neon figures of jewels and bills floating through the dark waters of Rin’s heart as she dived down to save her from BB’s control. “Hey! I don’t have a thing about money! I’m going to punch you!”

“…Rin?”

Briskly, her friend jumps up from the bed behind her, and starts making her way to the door without looking back.

“Well! Looks like you’re in good condition, you don’t need anything more from me. I’ll be in the Student Council Room monitoring your linkage to the school, so good luck out—“

“Wait.” Hakuno demands, standing up and taking her wrist. Rin still doesn’t turn back to look at her. “You know I wouldn’t judge you, or make fun of you, right? It’s… it’s okay.”

She can feel Rin’s heart beating in her wrist, fast and hard. She hears her swallow.

Her own heart is pounding in her ears. Her chest writhes with nerves.

It’s now or never.

She takes a step forward, then another, until she’s standing behind her, can feel her warmth.

Then she takes another step forward, one arm coming forward to wrap around Rin’s stomach, holding her tight, pressed up, against her back. That sweater is soft against her skin, and just a little rough.

She tries to put some steel into her voice. To give Rin some direction, something to hold onto, to calm herself. And. Well. Okay, her thoughts have been spinning ever since she saw Rin’s satisfied expression as Elizabeth whipped her with her tail, ever since she collected that Submission Desire SG. Maybe her intentions aren’t 100% pure.

“There’s something else I need you to do for me,” she says, gravely.

Is that… is that her own voice?

Rin trembles, slightly.

Desperately, she keeps hold of her thoughts.

She lets go of Rin’s wrist, still holding her around the waist, and manifests some of her saved up Sakurament with a stored hum. A thick, weighty stack of bills.

She reaches around, and presses them into Rin’s hand. Rin gasps.

“This is 20,000SM,” she says. She lets go of the money. Rin holds on.

Rin whimpers.

“Would you please,” she says, without a hint of question. “Go down to the commissary, and buy some healing items for me?”

She can feel the tension trembling in her friend’s body. She leans in close to her ear, and whispers. “I trust Rin’s decisionmaking to keep me safe.”

The sensation of Rin’s body melting in one ragged breath is the most erotic thing she’s ever felt.

“Y-yes,” she breathes.

“Thank you. Now go on.” She pushes Rin toward the door. “I’ll wait here.”

After Rin leaves, her legs turn to jelly. She sits back on her bed, supporting herself with her hands, and takes deep breaths to calm herself down.

After a few minutes, her heart finally stops racing, and she sighs, looking up at the ceiling.

Did she really just do that?

She has no idea where she got the nerves for something like that. She felt like she was going to pass out.

But more than that, Rin’s little reactions are carved in her memory. Maybe they’ll never go away.

Feeling her shiver. Feeling her relax. Feeling someone she’s always looked up to, admired and chased after giving up control to her. That moment where Rin’s trust in her took over her body.

Damn. Now she’s excited again. She can’t wait for Rin to get back.

She knows she has to face Meltryllis soon, but right now all she can think about is Rin.

And for now, that feels alright.

She realizes she’s still shirtless, and starts to dress herself, hands shaking with adrenaline

—

A few minutes later, there’s another knock on the door. Immediately, Hakuno’s heartbeat is back at full pace, nervousness swirling and tumbling in her chest. She stands up from the bed and opens it.

Rin is standing outside her door. Her face is flushed, and her brow twitches.

Hakuno steels herself, reaches deep down for the courage to push ahead.

She steps out of the way, and ushers Rin inside, who enters walking stiff-limbed.

“Here!”

Rin sticks out her arm toward Hakuno, a small item folder in her hand. She doesn’t look at her.

Hakuno takes it and stows it in her inventory.

“Thank you. I can always count on Rin.”

“You…!” she whips around. “Aren’t you even going to check out what I bought?”

She sounds angry, but looks nervous.

Ah.

Hakuno looks her in the eyes. Earnestly, seriously, she says, “Why would I have to? I know you made the right selection. I asked you because you’re the most competent person I know.”

Rin colors.

“You did what I said, right?”

She nods.

“Good,” Hakuno confirms.

Rin shivers. Her eyes are looking a bit hazy again. Hakuno’s stomach flips. Maybe it’s not fair to push her buttons like this, but Hakuno is doing it. She’s not stopping now.

I”n that case, I have something else I need you to do for me,” she says, with false confidence. She half expects Rin to snip at her for overstepping but… but instead, she’s staring at her, waiting, like Hakuno hung the moon.

Oh. Her eyes look so soft. She looks so relaxed, breathing fast and deep and even. Hakuno swallows.

“I need you to take this for me,” she hears herself say. She raises her hand, and a stack of 20,000 materializes in it. Rin’s eyes track to it like magnets. Hakuno is so turned on she feels like she might faint.

She presses the bills into Rin’s hand, folds the fingers around them. Rin watches it happen, breaths coming quickly, and then looks up at her, expectantly, waiting.

Adorable.

But she doesn’t tell her what to do. Instead, she materializes another stack in her hands.

Rin looks nervous.

She presses them into her other hand. Rin’s eyes track between her outstretched hands. She squeezes the wads of bills, eyes slamming shut, and shivers.

But she opens them again when Hakuno pulls out another stack. She stares up at her, pleading, as Hakuno presses it into her hand, balancing it between the other two. Her eyes say it for her.

It’s too much.

Hakuno pulls out another stack of bills.

Whether her life lasts only the next couple hours or seventy more years, she’ll remember the sound Rin makes until she dies.

Rin holds the 80,000SM in her hands, staring at it in disbelief. Hakuno heroically tries not to melt into a puddle, and instead circles around behind her, starts massaging her arms.

“That’s all yours. I’m giving it to you,” she says.

Rin whines.

But before she can object, Hakuno continues. “But Rin, I want you to do something. Would you please buy me a Mystic Code, and… whatever pair of socks you like best?” She laces her arms around Rin’s waist, and rests her chin on her shoulder. Rin melts into her hold. “It’s your choice,” she murmurs, her own breaths shaking. “The money is yours. But will you spend it all on me, if I ask you to?”

Rin takes one stuttering breath, and then another, and then another. She swallows.

“Yeah,” she says. “I’ll do it.”

—

“U-um, just to be safe, I checked if Kishinami’s condition was normal,” Sakura offers, her voice coming in clearly, if compressed, over the communication line.

Hakuno blows a foggy breath between her hands, and tucks them into her armpits. She looks around in the icy chill of Meltryllis’s hostile, forbidding Labyrinth, eyes tracking to each intersection in sight. Just in case.

“And then… well, it’s just that the temperature is cold on this floor, so I tried to raise Senpai’s body temperature a bit… but it won’t go up. Out of curiosity, I, um, secretly administered a healing item. The effect was negated.”

What.

“HUH?!”

“… I see. Considering this floor represents her “Sadistic Constitution,” it makes sense for it to have this characteristic.” Rani is unshakable as ever.

Hakuno hears a distant scream of frustration come over through Rani’s audio connection. “But it seems Miss Tohsaka is upset by this.”

Gilgamesh laughs heartily at their mistake.

“…Hakunooon, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay,” she replies. “I still think it was money well-spent.”

After all. The tights Rin put on her are doing a pretty good job of keeping her warm.

[deadprompts]

𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝙳 𝚂𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙾𝙽 𝟽 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚂.

content warning applies. change any pronouns / wording if necessary.

you're either with us or you ain't.

you do the same damn stink eye as your dad

i'm not saving you anymore.

you should be dead.

i love a gal that takes me to dinner and doesn’t expect me to put out.

you're sitting over there talking outside both sides of your mouth.

i know i had to make a pretty strong first impression.

you’re lucky. don’t forget.

i just bent over backwards to show you how reasonable i am.

it's gonna be dark soon.

did you just threaten me?

you see, now i just think you're lying.

kid. i ain't gonna lie. you scare the shit out of me.

are you kiddin' me?

do soy sauce packets count as food?

i'm dealing in certainties, and i'm doing my part to give them what they want.

what'd he have? a knife?

i get why you did it.

i would not have messed with that guy!

hot diggity dog! this place is magnificent!

i don’t give a shit if you think you’ve found the secret to life.

if you keep thinking everyone's an enemy, then enemies are all you're gonna find.

let me give you some advice.

you should go before you find out how dangerous we really are.

that takes guts... and then there's you.

people want someone to follow.

same goes for you too right?

little pig, little pig, let me in!

i want you to think about what could've happened, think about what happened, and think about what can still happen.

don’t pretend you don’t know the score.

anyone wanna finish the game? come on! i was winning!

it ain’t just about getting by here. it’s about getting it all.

people can try and you set you in the right direction, but they can’t show you the way.

listen, i like you, so i don't want to go hard proving a point here.

we'll win. but we need to wait for the right moment.

i hear your concern. i'm not insensitive to it.

people say i have an expressive face.

i always found it hard getting close to anyone.

that remind you of anyone you know?

if you knew us, if you knew anything, you would kill us.

well pardon me.

look, just put it down...

we need to talk.

hope you're not trying to hide stuff from us 'cause that generally doesn't go over very well.

i feel like i ought to give you a signing bonus.

you bunch of pussies!

nobody's evil. they just decide to forget who they are.

i think i've made my position very clear.

i'm serious. do you want me to prove how serious?

bet you thought you were all gonna grow old together.

whatever you had going for you... that is over now.

what's about to happen is gonna be hard to watch.

if you're having problems of that nature, come to see me.

some people are evil. i've seen it.

i was gifted these pickles.

how about a "thank you?"

i can't be the only one to notice that you got a fat lady in charge of keeping track of rations, can i?

he's an idiot.

you'll get yourself killed.

you should know, there is no door number four. this is it. this is the only way.

speak when you're spoken too.

in case you haven't caught on, i just slipped my dick down your throat, and you thanked me for it.

i can see this is hard on you guys.

we provide security for others. we bring civilization back to this world.

you guys have a barbecue or something and not invite us?

i'll find you.

you were thinking about someone else.

my apologies for leaving the place a bit of a mess, but we got a litany of other shit to attend to!

you like ice cream? we have ice cream.

me? i ain't doing shit.

you got your friend killed.

not making a decision is a big decision.

drink from the well, replenish the well.

suck my nuts.

he's a coward. they're more dangerous.

don't be rude.

this must be hard for you right?

no matter how things go down, i got your back.

we'll crack open some tequila, we'll talk, we'll work it out.

you don't have to do this.

your people are making me lose my voice doing all this yelling.

i'd like to take it back to awkward silence now.

i mean, you have been king shit for so long.

we made it. we can make it. we can.

you're not me.

it’s because you got no guts.

was the joke that bad?

is that you? underneath all that man bush?

thanks for saving my life before. and other time. oh, and the other time.

get on your knees.

you really want to see all these people die? you will.

i am indeed a smarty pants.

what the hell, man?

we're the ones who live.

don't wander around here on your own.

[miscfandomwrites]

A/n: Slight daydream about this so I made it reality. A little short but I was feeling a bit burnt at the end, if you like it let me know.

Pairing: Simon Riley (Ghost) x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Language

Words: 945

Tagging: @tyler-t0t

~

“Y’know I know someone who can take care of those knives for you, Ghostie.” Soap told him as he watched him try to scrub off the dried blood that seemed to be embedded in the steel. 

“I don’t want anyone else touching these.” Ghost shot back, debating on using steel wool to try and help them look clean. 

“Oh c’mon, she’s good at it, known all over base. She only charges fifteen dollars per knife, but she has a deal if you give ‘er more than three to take care of she’ll drop it down to ten per knife.” 

“She?”

“Yeah, ‘er name is Knives.”

“Knives?” Ghost paused and looked at him confused. 

“Yeah, tha’s what we started callin ‘er. Even Price goes to ‘er.” 

“You’re pullin my leg here, aren’t you?”

“Nope, call Price and ask him if ya want.” Soap told him as he leaned against the wall, doodling in his sketchbook. 

Ghost paused for a bit, before finally deciding to call Price and asked him who this “Knives” was. 

Fifteen minutes later

Ghost found himself in front of a small steel building towards the back of the base, a bit worn-down but seemed to be holding up, even with the rust decorating the edges of it. He could faintly here music coming from the inside, and if he listened a bit harder he could barely make out the lyrics of Seven nation army playing. 

A hand slapped him on the shoulder, almost making him jump as Price stood beside him, holding his own set of knives. 

“Took you long enough.” 

“Oh shutup, I had a meeting with Shepard.” 

“Meeting, right.” 

That earned him a smack on the back of the head, for which he grumbled at. 

“Y’know I don’t like her like that, Riley, now c’mon before she closes shop for the night.” 

Price opened a side door and Ghost followed him, eyes widening at the interior. Two walls held nothing but shelves full of materials and various things, one wall held rows and rows of knives, each with a small paper tag attached to them. The last wall held a massive desk, in which a woman was sitting at, inspecting a large k-bar that Ghost was certain was bigger than his forearm.

“Knives, been a bit,” Price called out, heading her way.  She didn’t look up, but paused, reaching out to the stereo that was on the desk and pausing the music. “Been a bit Price? You saw me last week.” 

“I brought you a new customer though, can’t be mad at me for that.” 

She turned around in her seat at that, and her eyes locked with Ghost’s. 

“Fuckin’ finally, I was wondering when Johnny could convince you to come here.” 

“Took him like two weeks, but I was the one that did it, not him.” 

She narrowed her eyes at Price, “Oh really? I thought it was a team effort.” 

At that Price huffed, “Well fine, team effort.” 

She nodded, getting up and stretching her arms, walking towards them. Ghost was finally able to get a good look at her. Standing below his shoulder, wearing a sports bra with some black jeans and military-issued boots, a dark henley tied around her waist. When she reached them she held out her hand, and Ghost reached out to shake it. 

“Your knives, idiot.” She told him and he paused, before reaching and pulling out the various knives he had strapped to him. 

Price chuckled, and took his knives and set them on a separate work desk and picked up a small notepad, jotting some things down on it. 

Ghost only growled slightly at that, before finally handing her the last knife he wanted cleaned. 

She walked with the over to the workbench Price was at as he handed her the notepad. She glanced at it, before sighing. 

“Two days, Price? You know my rules.” She said, glaring at him. 

“I don’t need these for this one though, just my rifle and my benchmade.” 

“You all say that, then come back with a broken bone and complain that you didn’t have your knives.” 

“You have rules?” Ghost asked her, a bit confused. She, in turn, gave him a look that made him feel very stupid at that moment. 

“Yes, Ghost, I have rules. Rules which I expect you to know by now, if you’re here.” 

He turned to Price at that, who only gave a small shrug. “I thought Soap told you.” 

“No one told me shit, obviously.” 

She huffed and pointed to a sign made from scrap steel and a spray-paint stencil that was hanging above them.  He took a step back to read it; 

Three day’s notice if you require the knives for deployment. 

Knives will be held until payment is given. 

No favors. 

“Pricing varies, most knives are around fifteen dollars, but the larger or more difficult the knife is, the more I charge for it, and the more time it takes.” 

“So do you just clean them then?” 

Both her and Price chuckled at that, before she pointed towards the wall holding the knives.

“Each one of those knives I built, by hand, and someone has already bought from me. Yes, I clean knives, but I also sharpen and make them better than new.”

“So you have your own business on base doing this?”

“Kinda, I still work and get deployed, but I mostly do knives. If I remember correctly, the GOW in America carries one of my best.” 

“..Alright then. Can I prepay?” he asked, digging out his wallet from the back of his pants. 

She smiled at that, making his heart skip a beat. “Of course.”

[artyandink]

Could o request an Anthony Lockwood x fem reader where they have a love hate relationship where they both always risk their lives for eachother but then it always ends up in fights with one another and one day it leads to a very heated confession.

YOU'RE HEAVEN AND HELL

"Yeah, and what plan did you have, Mr Know-It-All?!"

"Oh shut it, you could have avoided standing in front of a charging ghost!"

"But I knew that plan would work!"

"Or was it a small experiment that could've gotten us both killed?" Lucy and George watched as the two came back from yet another case with yells and insults.

"Is that the fifth argument this week?" George tutted. "We're only two days in."

"And five days away from Armageddon." Lucy predicted. "I swear, these two will destroy all of humanity if they remain at loggerheads."

"Who destroys the other first? I say that Zuri will finish him first." George betted.

"We don't even need to bet some quid, cause I agree."

"I can take care of myself!" Lockwood shouted, making a gesture as if he was karate chopping his other hand.

"Oh, but you clearly can't!" I retorted, stepping forward and mimicking his own gesture.

"Neither can you, to be frank, I had to save you from being locked just yesterday. And now the tables have turned you really think you're the equal of Marissa Fittes and Sir John Fairfax, absolute saviour, aren't you?!"

I drew my rapier quickly, Lockwood matching it quickly.

“Let me show you how much of a bloody saviour I can be.”

“Ok! That’s enough!” Artemis (A/N: My OC, kinda like my signature) clapped her hands, using her own golden rapier to set down ours. “We don’t want a duel in the thinking space, do we?” She turned to George and Lucy, “I sort out something at SP3CTR for a few hours and this is what I’m coming back to. I should be used to it, but I’m not. Please tell me there’s tea or coffee, at least something.”

“We get it, you own a multi-trillion pounds worth company. But doesn’t that we can’t get into arguments.” Lockwood snapped.

“Oh, Tony, that’s your fifth argument this week and it’s only Tuesday. Two days in, five away from Armageddon.” Lucy gestured to Artemis to signal her agreement.

“Lockwood and I won’t cause Armageddon.” I scoffed, flicking my brown hair over my shoulder. “How can you be so sure of that?”

DAY THREE:

Lockwood, Artemis and I went on a case where they were dealing with a particularly difficult Type 2 called Harrison Prescott, who had spent the last few minutes trying to get Lockwood, but when he deemed that useless, he turned to me, and I was unprepared and didn’t notice him coming. I turned around, meeting the ghost’s eyes and falling to the ground, unable to move. This was the end of Zuri Miller. Someone better dance the Macarena at my grave or I’ll rise back from the dead to make someone do it.

“Get away from her!” Lockwood threw a flare, diverting the attention of the ghost. He threw his rapier to me, and I caught it, confused. I had my own bloody rapier with me!

“Lockwood, what the hell?!” I yelled, running forward and slashing wildly at the ghost, but he disappeared before the blade could touch the plasma. Artemis ran out of the other room, dusting off her hands.

“That’s how it’s done, ladies and ladies, let’s go.” She winked, leading us both downstairs.

“I had my own rapier with me, Lockwood, why’d you chuck yours? You couldn’t defended yourself!” I criticised angrily. He jeopardised everything!

“I didn’t see your rapier, and I had a plan!” “What was the brilliant plan, pray tell?”

“I’d give the rapier to you, you attack from behind and we switch between blade and no blade until Artemis dealt with the source!”

“I think that’s an idiotic plan! We’d go better with weapons anyway! Artemis, do you agree with me?”

“I think I’d better do the fighting with one of you from now on. Next case, Lockwood and I will deal with the ghost, Zuri, you deal with the source. Does that make everyone happy?” Artemis bargained, so we both nodded.

DAY FOUR:

I was rifling through the drawers, and found the source, but what I didn’t notice was that the ghost was behind me, snarling.

“I’ve got you, Zuri!” Lockwood was behind the ghost, slashing it expertly, giving me time to pull out the silver net and throw it on just as it went for Lockwood.

“You didn’t have to save me, I had it covered.”

“Oh no, you didn’t! You didn’t notice it was there!”

“You know what?!” Artemis snapped, stopping us all in our tracks. “I’ve had enough of babysitting you two! You’re like Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, you just keep going at each other. So I’ve come up with a solution. You two just aren’t going to speak to each other until this Sunday.”

“Why specifically Sunday? Can’t you extend the bracket?” Lockwood asked, folding his arms.

“Because there’s a job that requires your skill set and my skill set but I can’t make it, I have a conference with the world leaders then. The next best person to fill my position is you, Zuri, so do me a favour and complete the job without any arguments in the afterparty.” She pinched the bridge between her eyebrows, resigning herself for the opposite of her wishes. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Artemis.” We both chorused, a little intimidated under the tech giant’s presence. Her complete worked in protection, so obviously it did well. Plus, she could be intimidating when she wanted to.

“Good. Now, I’m going to get some coffee with my brother. Don’t tear the house apart while you’re at it, yeah?” She sighed, turning on her heel and muttering incessantly as she left.

“Did she say world leaders?!”

DAY SEVEN:

“George! Are you geared up?” Lucy barked, padded with pillows and armed with a cardboard shield and her rapier. George walked out of his room with the same, except he wore a baseball helmet over the top. “Good.”

“Today is Armageddon.” He dramatically announced. “The first day that Lockwood and Zuri will talk to each other after Artemis’ fateful condemning on day 3. They said that Armageddon doesn’t exist. What will scientists say now?”

“Armageddon does exist. See you on the other side, soldier.” Lucy prepared herself, saluting at the same time as George.

“Lockwood and Zuri are due back at 1400 hours.” Artemis announced, coming in through the front door. “Remain prepared, soldiers, for this might be a day we will not survive.”

“You’re playing along?” George gasped in delight.

“Course not. I’m a businesswoman, I state the facts. I’m not worried about those two, and, oh, look at the time.” She checked her watch, “It’s 13:59.”

“HIDE!” George and Lucy dived for cover just as the clock said 2pm, and just then Lockwood and I burst through the door, arguing like hell was breaking loose.

“YOU ABSOLUTELY IDIOTIC NARCISSIST! NOT EVERYTHING IN THIS WORLD’S ABOUT YOU!”

“I’M GONNA STOP BEING YOUR HUMAN SHIELD THEN!”

“FINE! I DIDN’T NEED YOU IN THE FIRST PLACE ANYWAY! MY LIFE WAS PERFECT UNTIL YOU CAME ALONG!”

“OH YEAH? MINE WAS BRILLIANT UNTIL YOU BARGED INTO IT AND RUINED IT COMPLETELY! SOMETIMES I WISH I COULD JUST KISS YOU!”

“THEN WHY DON’T YOU?! I’VE BEEN WAITING A HELLA LONG TIME FOR IT!”It took us both a few seconds to register what we just said, breathing heavily. Artemis counted on her fingers from three to one, taking out her phone. On 1, Lockwood crossed the room, cupping my face in his hands and smashing his lips on mine roughly, making George and Lucy gape and Artemis smirk. My hand reached up to tangle in his brown locks, deepening the kiss. It felt… amazing. Like all that tension I had with him was gone just like that. When we detached, Artemis had finished finding the number, laughing.

“Good job, all that built up tension finally did it.” She rang the number, holding the phone to her ear. “Yeah, Barnes? They did it. You owe me 50 quid, thank you very much.”

“This was all a convoluted plan of yours? To win a bet against Barnes?!” Lockwood panted.

“Yeah, precisely. Gotta put my talents somewhere, don’t I?” She shrugged.

“You bloody-“

[return-to-twisted-wonderland]

🔆anon

— —

(Riddle is waking up in a completely dark environment while resting his head on something)

Riddle: Ugh… What time is it? Why do I feel so sore?

Leona: You’re finally up?

Riddle: … *realizes he’s lying on Leona* Leona?! Is that you?! Where are we?! Why can’t I see anything?!

Azul: Calm down. It’s best to save out energy.

Leona: That and it’s too cramped for you to be messing around.

Riddle: Excuse me for being confused and panicking after waking up in a pitch black unknown location. Who all is here anyways? Is this because of those intruders?

Vil: It definitely was the armored people. They grabbed both me and Jamil. Azul, Leona, and you also count to the people here, of course, but that’s everyone.

Azul: As far as we’ve put together, they’ve captured everyone who’s overblotted. Riddle at the beginning of the year, Leona at the Spelldrive tournament, me after finals, Jamil during winter break, and Vil right before the SDC show.

Riddle: Wasn’t that-

Vil: Yesterday? Yes. Imagine my shock when after having to preform after an Overblot, I get captured by rampaging assailants.

Jamil: And my shock after I had to fight you…

Leona: Enough chattering, there’s another thing. The Shrouds are connected to this somehow.

Azul: Ah, yes. I that hasn’t been mentioned yet.

Jamil: Hasn’t been mentioned yet? That seems important!

Leona: You’re aware? Well, I guess you club with Radish Sprout, don’t ya?

Riddle: All the Shrouds? None of them seem like someone capable of something like this. Skion is smart but he gets in trouble just as much as Ace and Deuce, if not more, because he has to be a clown. Ortho is calmer and more strategic, but he’s quite kind if you haven’t messed with him, and he’s usually having to deal with Skion’s antics. And Idia is in his room and definitely has the means without being watched, but he’s an anxious shut in who’s afraid to talk to people.

Leona: I was with Ruggie and the pest, Skion, when I was captured. They talked to Skion like he was at the top of whatever pecking order there is, and he mentioned seeing them at his childhood home. That plus something about being a future Chief Engineer and Ortho not wanting the job. All the talk scared Ruggie half to death.

Azul: Idia and Ortho were with me. They were talking about sensing something coming before they busted in, but they seemed annoyed. At least Idia did, Ortho seemed as cheery as always. He told me not to fight, just comply, while talking to the intruders. They talked to both him and Ortho like someone would a boss.

Vil: I still can’t believe any of those three could be involved in anything such as this. I mean, I am sure they’re rich, but-

Azul: They’re rich?! Idia Shroud, who wears practically the same hoodie everyday, is rich?! And Skion Shroud, who makes messes for no reason than to be ‘funny’?

Leona: No wonder it’d be you who’s concerned about money.

Vil: Yes, from my research the Shroud family is part of the family in charge of the Jupiter Conglomerate.

Azul: In charge of that?! That’s one of the most far reaching conglomerates in the world! They’re the parent of Olympus Inc., the ones who developed one of the operating and search systems on the market!

Jamil: Idia and Skion seem to be insanely good with tech, so that doesn’t surprise me, especially Idia. And I mean, have you seen Ortho? He doesn’t exactly hide not being human. He called himself a humanoid when I first started school.

Riddle: So some of the people who lack any sort of decorum or manners, because even Ortho can go off the walls at times, are some of the richest people here?

Jamil: Again, doesn’t surprise me. I’ve dealt with a rich idiot my whole life.

Riddle: But Kalim has some manners. Something Idia and Skion seem to lack and that Ortho can shut off if he gets too heated, which he does.

Azul: If only I knew sooner…

Leona: Does anything other than money ever cross your mind? Some massive company being a front for a big secret operation thing doesn’t seem unlikely, probably how the brothers got away with acting the way they did. That and Skion was apparently missing for sometime. But if we play nice, they might release us.

(Suddenly the area around them starts shaking as a metal door opens, letting bright light invade.)

Jamil: Bright! Too bright!

Vil: Where are we?

???: First thing you do is complain, really? Anyways, welcome everyone to the Island of Woe, STYX headquarters. I am the acting director.

(As their eyes adjust, they see Idia in front of them. Next to him are Skion and Ortho. Behind them are some more armored soldiers.)

Leona: *looking at Skion and Idia’s new outfits* Change clothes just too see us? I’m flattered.

Idia: Really, just that? No “Say what?!” or “Dude, no way!”?

Vil: I think all or most of us burned out our shock when we were jumped by your goons. And we did guess a connection between you and whatever was going on during the ride here. Though, I will admit, you being acting director seems shocking.

Skion: *using his over animated body language* Aww, calling the Charons ‘goons’ is mean. And you’re shocked about Idy’s role but not mine? I’m the acting Chief Engineer.

Vil: You didn’t mention that yet.

Leona: I thought you said you were the future Chief Engineer, pest. What happened to that?

Skion: Well someone has to take the job up when need be. I’m still just as capable.

Idia: Capable of stealing the better job. You actually get to make stuff while I have to direct everything and everyone. You just have to deal with machines, underlings, and tech side of this stuff. You could freely just sit in the same room and not talk.

Riddle: I’d still like to know why you invaded our school, attacked us, then kidnapped us by flying us in a cramped storage compartment! Who does that other than criminals?! Do you want to lose your head?!

Charon: Detecting Magical’s build up in Subject A. Preparing stun to render subject uncon-

Idia: *turning to the Charon Trooper* Woah, woah, woah. No need for that. I just think our visitors here are missing something. *turns back to his schoolmates* Who are you again? Who am I again? That’s right, I’m the boss. You don’t hurt me, I don’t hurt you. Got it?

Ortho: We just want you follow our rules. We have no wish to harm you, so doing ask we ask greatly reduces risk of injury.

Azul: Since there doesn’t seem like a better option, we’ll comply. At the very least, do you have the sense to supervene us tea? You did just kidnap us.

Idia: Immediately begging for stuff doesn’t exactly scream compliance or good behavior, but whatever… Just follow us and we’ll lead you to where you need to be. *turns to Ortho* Just help make this easier on me.

Ortho: Got it.

Skion *slightly slows down to be closer to Leona before whispering to him with a dangerous smile* Who has to listen to who now, Leona? *speeds up to be next to Idia*

— —

Slightly edited it. Leona doesn’t know what STYX is and has never seen the Charons. He’s royalty and and needs to be in the loop, plus STYX works with governments even if they don’t have to listen, sure, but Leona isn’t the direct heir, only just now no longer a teenager, and still in school. Him knowing seems unrealistic for a secret organization. (Plus it didn’t work with my dialogue.)

“And I mean, have you seen Ortho? He doesn’t exactly hide not being human.” Poor Jamil. He’s missing some very important things.

Also, yes, Skion does not like Leona. He targets Leona more than others and his usual rule of “don’t make fun of people” is bended with Leona. Not broken, he does outright insult Leona or make fun, but bended.

Leona's gonna get bullied.