#wow this project was a lot off my shoulders

[s-ccaam-era-crepe]

!!!!!! I did it !!!!

[louloulemons-posts]

Teddy

Eddie Munson X Reader

Summary : Reader has a nickname for Eddie that melts his heart.

Word Count : 1.6k

Warnings : Pure fluff, reader cries a little, minor talk of Eddies mom passing, talk of heads being chopped off, swears, pet names, use of Y/N, not proofread, just fluffy goodness.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Walking into the cafeteria, you look around for your boyfriend and his friends. Wandering over to the noisy boys, you smile, slipping into the seat beside his.

In the middle of a rant about hellfire, he rambled on about the others whining about lack of knowledge of his newest campaign.

“What’s the point of me,” he paused, kissing you cheek and placing his ring decorated hand on your thigh, giving it a squeeze.

“-Telling you anything about it, it kinda defeats the object. You’d get through it too easy.”

“Can’t we just have a hint what we’re up against?” Jeff asked.

“Yeah man you wiped the floor with us last time,” Mike complained.

“Maybe it’s cause you’re shit,” Eddie shrugged, to which you lightly punched his shoulder. “What?” He asked.

“Don’t be mean Teddy, give ‘em a hint.”

You looked away from him, pulling your lunch out of your bag. A sandwich, some cherries and a bottle of water. “Fine, it’s sort of similar to last time. Just remember how many things can hide in the dark.”

“Wow thanks for zero help,” Dustin said. Eddie just shrugged, as you slid half of your sandwich over to him. “Here you go Teds.”

Kissing your head he smiled, “Thanks Sweet Girl.”

“You busy later?”

“No why?”

“What to rent a movie?”

“Sure, want a movie night?”

“Mhm, you can stay if you want. Parents won’t mind Teds.”

He went quiet as he nodded, taking a bite out of his half of the sandwich. You noticed how his cheeks were flushed, and through his thick curls you could see his ears red.

“You alright?”

“Yeah Sweetheart I’m good, foods nice.”

“Want any cherries?” He nodded, handing him a couple, you offered them to the other boys as well.

A few of them took some, all thanking you for the offer.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Lunch was uneventful after that, until your friend Chloe came running in. “Y/N,” she said, placing a hand of your shoulder.

Turning to her, you smiled, “Hey Clo, everything okay?”

“Do you think you could help me with moving my project, it’s almost breaking and I need to get it to our next class.”

“Oh yeah sure.” You packed away your lunch and stood from the table.

Throwing your bag over your shoulder, you leaned down to peck your boyfriends lips. “I’ll meet you at the van,” he said.

“Okay, see you later Teddy.” You and Chloe waved goodbye to the others and headed out.

“So um … Teddy huh?” Gareth teased.

“Shut up!” He said.

“But it’s cute! I’m gonna start calling you that now, Eddie Teddy.”

“Fuck off, only Y/Ns allowed to call me that.”

“Aww why?” He asked.

“Uh cause she’s my girlfriend you dick.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Standing by Eddies van you saw him walk out of the building, saying goodbye to Dustin and wandering over to you. You smiled and waved slightly as he made his way.

“Hey Sweetheart,” he smiled.

“Hey Teddy,” you said, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. Taking your bag off you shoulder, he offered you his hand as you climbed in the van, placing the bag by your feet.

“Thanks.”

“Always.” He walked around to his side and began to drive out of the parking lot. “So what are we getting? Horror, sci-fi or are you gonna make me sit through a chick flick?” He asked.

“You always ask that, but you get so into them!”

“Do not!”

“Lies. I know you love them really Teds.”

“Mhm whatever you say.”

“Well I was thinking, I pick a movie for you, and you pick one for me.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“I’ve got popcorn at home and candy, so it’s just the movies.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Walking into Family Video, Eddie kissed your cheek and spoke, “I’m just gonna go say hi, go pick out the movie Sweetheart.”

“Okay.” Waving to the pair behind the counter before walking away down the aisle.

“Hey Munson.”

“Harrington, Buckley. How are we?”

“Good, you hear to use our discount?” Steve asked. “You know it.”

“How’s it going with Y/N?” Robin questioned.

“She’s great. It’s great.”

“I’m so glad I introduced you.”

“Yeah me too, I’ll owe you forever. Can’t believe she’s stuck around.”

“Coming up to six months now right?” The other boy asked.

Eddie nodded. “So movie night? Her parents like you?”

“Her dads a metal head himself Steve, of course he likes him!” Steve held his hands up in defence at Robins words. Eddie laughed, “Yeah they’re great people, really nice. Makes sense though, having that Sweet girl as their daughter.”

“Talking about me?” You popped up besides Eddie. “You? Sweet? Nah,” The curly haired boy teased. You bumped his side, letting out a playful sigh. “Go pick your movie Teds,” you said.

“What did you get?”

“It’s called Highlander. Looks good.”

“Oh yeah it’s cool,” Steve agreed, “I watched it the other day, insane, but great.”

“Perfect! Now go pick,” you pushed him towards the aisle lightly.

“Jesus, you tryna get rid of me?”

“Me? Get rid of you? Never!”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Okay so I have Sweet and Salty popcorn, M&Ms and Reece’s. Help yourself,” you said, climbing on the couch next to Eddie. “Did you plan this?” He asked.

“I was just really hoping you’d be up for it,” you explained. “I’m always up for spending time with you Sweetheart.” You smiled, and snuggled into him.

“Okay kids we’re heading out now, we’ll be home at 1 at the latest,” your mom said, popping her head round the door. “Okay, have fun,” you waved to her.”

The pair shouted to goodbye to you and Eddie and were on their way. “Okay which movie first?” You asked.

“Well one has Sean Connery and one has Bowie so either ones a good pick.”

“We should start gory and end sweet?”

“Sounds like a plan, I’ll put it in.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Soon enough you were sat together watching Highlander. Scottish warriors were freaking out because a man named Connor had come back from the dead.

“I think this was a good pick,” Eddie said.

“Thanks Teds, I’m glad your enjoy it.” Once again you noticed his face flushing. “Why do you do that?” You asked.

He looked away from the screen to face you, “Do what Sweet girl?”

“Go all blushy?”

“I’m not!”

“You are, your cheeks are all pink and I bet your ears are warm.” You reached out to feel, but he leaned away.

“Let me feel!”

“No! Get away from my ears.”

“Let me feel them!”

“No you little monster. Get back,” he shuffled to the edge of the couch.

You crawled after him, leaving him trapped. Reaching out again, you successfully touched his ear, it was burning. “Aha! I knew it!”

“Shush! Watch the movie! Look it’s Sean Connery.”

“No no, I’m pausing it.” You reached for the remote and paused it on the older man’s face.

“What’s going on? You know you can tell me anything?” You said softly, fully facing him. Legs crossed and hands in your lap. “I know sweetheart it’s just ..” he sighed.

“It’s okay Teddy. Take your time.”

“It’s that.”

“What?”

“Teddy.”

“Teddy?”

“When you call me Teddy I just,” he groaned, leaning back into the plush couch. “Do you not like it? I can stop,” you said, terrified that you’d made your lover uncomfortable.

“No!” He almost shouted. “Please don’t stop. I love it, so much,” he said, reaching out for your hand. “Then why’s it bad?”

“Oh sweet girl it’s not. It’s so far from bad, if makes my heart burst and my brain turn mushy.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah oh. Haven’t had anyone call me Teddy in a long time. When you first did it, it scared me, but I love it so much.”

You played with the rings on his fingers, “Who else called you Teddy?”

“My mom. Her little Teddy, said Edward was too grown up for me yet. Wayne was the one who started calling me Eddie after everything that happened.

“He called me Teddy once and I freaked. Said only mom could call me that, and now she was gone no one could. But then you came along, and damn sweetheart … you changed everything.

“So sweet and kind and beautiful. You called me Teddy and I felt so loved, only two ladies have made me feel like that. That’s how I knew it’d have to be you, you’d be my one and only girl. I just love you so much.”

You sniffled, rubbing your glassy eyes. “Oh no, oh Sweetheart. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you,” Eddie said, panicked, pulling you into his lap.

“You didn’t! It’s just so sweet. I’m so happy I make you feel like that. So honoured that you let me call you Teddy.”

“I am your Teddy, like I was hers, and I’m Wayne’s Eddie or Son.”

“You said something else to Teds.”

“I did didn’t I?” He asked, to which you nodded. “Well it’s true Sweetheart, I love you. Think I have from the day Robin introduced us.”

“I love you too Teddy.” He cupped your face with his hands, metal chilly on your face, but his warm palms comforted you. Leaning in he kissed your lips softly.

You pulled him back in, holding onto his shirt. Making the kiss more passionate, opening your mouth slightly, letting his tongue slide in.

After making out until you needed to breathe, you smiled at him, “I love you so much my Teddy.”

“I love you too Sweet girl, now come on let’s watch some guys chop each others heads off.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍

[nhl-stories]

i'm not sure that you want me – Kent Johnson

Summary: Kent's confused. About nothing. About everything. Mostly, he just wants someone to give him the answers.

Author’s Note: Someone sent in a request that just said Kent Johnson. Gender. I didn't really know him before but somehow his weirdly, pretty bug face broke me out of my writing rut. So thanks anon, I feel like i could have explored so much more but had to rein myself in

Word Count: 6.8k

You still live in Columbus right?

Kent gets the text after a particularly grueling rehab session, he’s out to lunch with the boys and a little tempted to order a drink to take off the edge off the day, even if it’s only 11 AM.

A second text buzzes in before he can answer.

I could google but thought I’d get it straight from the source

It had been a while since they texted each other, the last text telling him to get well soon in February. Not that they ever really communicated a ton. It was mostly when either saw something that reminded them of the other.

Like seeing one of Kent’s old teammates at a basement party doing something stupid.

Yeah, trying to come visit?

They hadn’t actually seen each other in person in a year or so. When he went back to school to get his ring, and that was only a brief hello when he had a million other obligations.

Trying to move just got accepted into OSU law school, it would be nice to have a familiar face

Kent doesn’t know how to respond right away. With the injury he feels a little more lost about his future. Not playing the last months of the season makes it harder for him to get traded, and he’s pretty sure the new contract in the works with Columbus will work out. But he really doesn’t know.

Wow congrats, lmk if you need anything I probably won’t be much help though

He doesn’t want to make any promises.

You’re saying my friend who is strong enough to move my furniture and rich enough to get me a nice meal after can’t help? What a ripoff 🙄

Kent can’t help but smile, unfortunately that gives Silly a chance to pounce.

“Who’s got KJ all smiley at his phone?”

The season has been a grind for everyone, not just Kent who’s had to helplessly watch from the sidelines for so long. They take their laughter when they can get it, Kent just made himself an easy target.

Adam peers over his shoulder, “You texting yourself? Getting that desperate?”

“It’s a different KJ,” he deadpans while he feels his face warm, “a friend from college.”

“Is this ‘friend,’” Silly obnoxiously uses air quotes, “hot?”

Kent rolls his eyes and throws a balled-up napkin at him. Slips his phone in his pocket to respond to later.

++++

KJ had lived in Columbus for almost five months before meeting up with Kent. In part because of the off season, but they had a hard time locking down plans. First a coffee meetup that fell through, then lunch, then she excitedly suggested they get drinks since they were both actually legal now.

KJ said they would be in the park after work and they could walk to a place. He found her reading on a bench. If he hadn’t followed her location pin, he wouldn’t have been sure it was them.

He had checked her Instagram before he left to see a more recent picture than what he had in his head. They don’t post a lot, even less of pictures of them, mostly books, plants, or friends. The last picture is a blurry picture of people dancing on a table, he couldn’t even pick out KJ if he tried.

Her hair was much longer than the last time he saw them, it had been shorter than his and dyed a blue that was so dark it was almost black. Now, it was mostly a light purple, except the blonde roots. Kent wasn’t sure if she was a natural blonde. Can’t recall what shade her shaved head was when they first met.

That was when their Women, Gender, and Sexuality professor paired ‘Katrina Johnson’ and ‘Kent Johnson’ for the first project of the year and as she slid into the chair next to him, said ‘you better not be one of those dumb jocks who drops this class before we finish the project.’ Kent didn’t even try to joke about how he took this class because he heard it was easy and could tell his teammates he had to leave to study women.

And that’s how boy KJ met girl KJ, which they would amend months later: ‘I’m really more of the girl-ish KJ, emphasis on -ish.’

KJ doesn’t notice him walking up so he takes a seat beside her before saying anything.

She jumps a little before a smile breaks through, “holy shit I forgot how low your voice is.”

KJ shoves the book into their backpack, the same beat up maroon JanSport he remembers from college. She reaches over and Kent thinks she’s going in for a hug, but stops turning when they touch the ends of his hair.

“And your hair is so short! People won’t confuse us for a cute lesbian couple anymore,” she pouts.

Kent rolls his eyes but can feel the upward quirk of his lip, “Shut up.”

“What? I liked when my friends would ask me about the cute, butch girl they saw me walking around campus with. It was good for my rep.”

Their smile doesn’t wane, “I’m glad we could finally meet up.”

Then she moves in for the hug, it’s a bit of an awkward angle while they’re still sitting. But they squeezes him tight, makes him think about the last time someone really hugged him. Probably his mom, before he flew back to Columbus.

They walk to a bar nearby, KJ asks Kent about his summer, training camp, how his shoulder feels.  When they get to the bar, they both get carded; she elbows him excitedly like they’re getting away with something.

He finds out they’re deferring law school for a year, hoping to get some more savings for food and rent before getting more student debt. Currently, she’s part-time clerking at the ACLU and some other law firm that pays better but they seem iffy about the work they do. Then volunteering at a queer community center closer to her apartment and campus.

Kent worried that once they caught up on life basics it would be awkward, they got along pretty well at school, but they didn’t actually have that much in common.

Before meeting KJ, Kent hadn’t even spent a lot of time with women who weren’t interested in him, for hockey or romantically or a combo of both. It had been a nice change of pace when KJ came into his life, but that didn’t mean it would work outside the limbo of college life.

But the awkward moment never comes.

They keep talking until KJ looks at their phone.

“Shit, we’ve been here for like 2 hours. You probably have other things to do.”

“Not really, do you want to get dinner?”

Kent takes them to one of his favorite restaurants, it’s another two hours before they wrap up the evening. Kent’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

KJ gives him directions to her apartment; he pulls up into front of brick building, it’s easy to tell how close they are to the college now. When he turns after putting it in park he sees KJ staring at him, looking up at him while she leans on the console.

“KJ?” They bat their eyelashes.

“Yes, KJ?” His throat feels dry.

“Are you going to invite me to a hockey game?”

He can’t stop the snorting laugh that comes out.

“Um, yeah.”

She raises a brow like she’s expecting more.

“Do you want to come to a hockey game?”

“I’d love to! You probably don’t know your schedule off the top of your head so just tell me when you know some dates.”

“Cool, have good night.”

KJ leans further in for a hug, whispers against his ear, “I’m so happy we get to hang out again.”

They pull away and ruffle his short hair again, then kisses his forehead before he can even process what’s happening. He watches them walk up the drive and disappear through the door.

++++

She told him he was pretty once. Honestly, probably more than once, but the first time is what he really remembers.

Kent doesn’t know why that’s the memory that’s pinging around his head while he’s taping his stick.

Going over to KJ’s to off-campus apartment to work on their assignment, she had answered the door in a silk robe before leading him into the living room where her notes were spread out on the coffee table. She sat cross legged on the couch facing him, flashing her underwear that he would have described as a ‘laundry day’ pair.

KJ started talking about what readings they could cite, like there wasn’t a borderline stranger in her house while she was half naked, like she had never felt self-conscious in her entire life. He had never met a girl like that before.

“I know I don’t look it, but I like sports,” she’s painting her toenails while trying to make a point about how masculinity hurts men too, “how do you think I knew you were a student athlete? You don’t exactly look like a typical jock.”

Kent widened his eyes at that, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know,” she grabs his ankle and moves his foot closer to her, he has a hole in the big toe of his sock, she slathers a layer of purple glitter polish on the exposed nail.

She looks up when she’s done, “You’re really pretty for a guy.”

He wasn’t sure how to react, he didn’t get a chance because one of her roommates came in.

“Whoa Cage brought home a boy,” the new girl fist pumped with a wicked grin.

Then she’s crawling into KJ’s space, kissing her on the mouth, slipping a hand under the opening of her robe and groping her chest. KJ smiled into the kiss, Kent felt a vague, lecherous swooping in his stomach, he felt a bit like a pervert for not looking away. But really, he wasn’t sure if wanted to be KJ or the roommate.

He shakes the thought out of his head, he has a game to focus on.

The game starts out well enough, despite the time apart, playing Owen is still weird. Maybe extra weird since his head seems to be stuck in Michigan today. But he gets an assist on the first goal, and his head snaps back into focus.

And then as quick as it comes together, it falls apart.

When he falls, he immediately knows something is wrong, a sinking feeling of déjà vu. Surgery, rehab, months away from hockey; it’s a dizzying thought and he forces himself off the ice and down the tunnel before it becomes overwhelming.

The trainers gingerly take him out of his top gear, give him a fairly thorough look over to determine he’s definitely out for the game. He’s poked and prodded while he watches the teams trade goals. The useless feeling from last season starts to rear its ugly head.

The second period ends and so does the exam. He’s not going back in tonight, how long he’ll be out to be determined later. For now, he can take some pain meds and the rest of his gear off.

The guys are in the locker room when he starts to undress, he gets a few pats on the knee, most of the guys try not to give him that ‘sucks you’re injured’ sympathetic smile, but a couple slip through. A knee jerk reaction.

His phone is buzzing incessantly in his locker, like an annoying bug in his ears. Once he’s down to his base layers, he just soaks in being around the guys as they hype each other up for the last push. The sour feeling in his belly makes him worry he won’t get this any time soon.

Once the guys are back on the ice, he pulls out his phone. A text from his mom, some of the Michigan guys all hoping he’s okay.

The last one’s from KJ: That looked nasty, let me know if you’re still up to meet up afterwards, no pressure

He had gotten her a pass that would let her down to the family room, and he doesn’t want the night to be a total bust for her. He gives her directions on how to get downstairs before taking a shower, hoping to wash away some of this awful feeling.

The Blue Jackets win, which feels like a consolation prize for his shitty night. That and he’s given a free pass to skip any media obligations, since his injury is still of an uncertain severity. No one even seems to care that he leaves without changing back into his game day suit.

He turns the corner towards the family room and sees KJ talking to a group of WAGs.  They’re having an animated conversation like they’re all longtime friends. KJ looks up and sees him, quickly saying bye before she comes running over, their high ponytail swinging until they pull up short on Kent.

“I was gonna hug you, but that’s probably a bad idea,” They hold out a fist to bump instead.

“It probably doesn’t mean much since I’m clearly bad luck, but I had a lot of fun.”

“Injuries happen, not your fault. Besides you saw me at school all the time and I never got injured there.”

“Excellent point, we’ll have to do further research when you’re better,” she grins up at him and he can’t help but smile back at her.

“Yeah, and you made some friends,” he nods towards the girlfriends who are still talking, maybe shooting subtle glances their way.

“Oh yeah, they just saw me awkwardly standing around and asked who I knew. Said we’re friends from college and as you can see, I’m wearing a pretty gay outfit so they definitely don’t think we’re dating.”

He looks over her outfit and can’t really point out what of the baggy jeans and jacket over a vintage CBJ t-shirt that looks like it’s seen a thousand washes is really gay, but he’s not really the expert. He thinks maybe it’s the Doc Martens before his eyes catch on the pins: A bright rainbow flag and one that says she/they.

He realizes he probably should have just responded, said something like ‘I don’t care if they think we’re dating.’ Which overall, yeah, he doesn’t particularly mind, he’d get an equal amounts of chirps for his singleness or if he had a new girlfriend.

“Do you want to get some ice cream?”

“Huh?” He shakes himself out of his head.

“Ice cream? People tend to like to eat it when they’ve had a rough day, and you, KJ, have had a rough day.”

“Yeah, sure.”

KJ directs him not to an ice cream place, but a grocery store. Buying two pints by claiming ‘my treat’ before they end up on his couch. She lets him put on the Kraken game and talk her ear off about Matty and how teams across the league look for the new season.

When he starts to nod off, KJ takes his pint and puts it in the freezer and gives him a kiss on the cheek on the way out. He falls asleep forgetting about the pit in his stomach from earlier.

++++

The injury is deemed day-to-day, but the doctors seem to think it will be about a month before he gets the all clear. The dark pit in his stomach grows a little deeper. Sure, he doesn’t need more surgery or anything. But it doesn’t feel great going down two games into a new season. The season where he was finally going to prove himself in the NHL.

He goes home and eats the rest of the pint ice cream for lunch, because it’s not like he has to play tomorrow or the day after that or even the day after that. The feeling subsides for a bit, but it gnaws away enough that he has to leave his place. Before he knows it, he’s parked in front of KJ’s house.

He hasn’t been inside, just dropped her off. He rings the bell of the middle door he’s seen her enter. There’s an almost eerie silence after the ringing stops, he thinks about pressing the button again but then hears someone coming down the steps.

KJ opens the door in a fuzzy red robe.

“Hey KJ, this is a surprise,” they smile up at him.

“Yeah, I- uh- had a shitty day and wanted to see if you wanted to hang out?”

“I’m just watching TV in bed, if that interests you? My roommate is sleeping before she goes to work so we just have to be quiet.”

Kent takes off his shoes and follows them up the stairs and to the room off the kitchen before he has a chance to really look around. There’s a small TV on top of beat-up trunk at the foot of the bed that KJ hops back onto, getting comfy against the pillows and headboard.

Her room is lit up with pink-ish fairy lights, that kind of hide the clutter around the room. But he can’t stop from staring at strap on hanging on the wall, a graduation tassel hanging off the yellow harness.

They look between Kent and the wall, trying to hold back a laugh.

“It was a graduation gift for the seniors at The Spectrum, for graduating with honors. Like Some Cum Loud, it’s embroidered on the harness.”

She raises an eyebrow waiting for him to finally make eye contact, they can’t tell if his cheeks are actually pink or it’s just the lighting. He finally flicks his eyes toward her.

“That one’s never been used. The one I use is in a box under my bed,” KJ can’t hold back the giggle this time and gets a twisted smile from Kent in return.

They pat the spot next to them on the bed and wait for Kent to unclench a bit and get on the bed. Moving around some pillows trying to get comfortable.

“We’re watching Girls, it’s problematic and a little annoying but also iconically messy,” they press play without any room for discussion or comment.

And the pair drift into a comfortable silence. KJ fans her hair out on the pillows, it’s damp and will probably dry funny. Kent wonders if it’s soft.

An episode ends and new one begins before KJ finally says something.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Kent shrugs, when he speaks his voice croaks more than usual, “not really.”

KJ hums, doesn’t say anything for a moment, then twists her body to face him. The slit at the front of her robe doesn’t move, revealing her pale leg all the way up to her hip and the pink underwear she has underneath.

“Do you want me to paint your fingernails?”

“No.”

“How about your toes?”

Kent scrunches his face, “No, I’m good.”

“I could braid your hair.”

“Do you need an activity?”

“I don’t know, I don’t have boys in my bed that often.”

“And that’s what you think boys in your bed want to do?”

She shimmies he shoulders, “no, I know what boys want in bed…”

Kent feels his face heat up, he didn’t mean to imply anything.

“But this has more slumber party vibes.”

They suddenly sit up onto their knees, and bounces on the bed, she brushes up against Kent’s thigh.

“We can order pizza and gossip about boys… well probably girls in our case.”

“I could go for pizza… not the gossip though.”

KJ adamantly slaps his thigh, “oh come on, you’re a professional athlete you’ve gotta have some fun stories from the road or something.”

He can’t stop the crooked smile in response and KJ knows she’s got him.

“I’ll find a way to crack you open, just you wait KJ,” they raise their brows a few times before grabbing their phone to look at pizza places.

And suddenly this is how most of Kent’s nights unfold. He’s still keyed up from not being able to play, watching from the press box helplessly, desperate to get out and skate. But it seems more manageable when he can pick KJ up from work and out to dinner or for TV in her bed or his couch.

He never really had a distraction outside of hockey before. He had class or studying at Michigan but that mostly meant hanging out with his teammates with books open in the athlete study hall or on rare occasions, the library. He tried to fill his empty injury time last season with reading, but it still felt like work for hockey when it was mostly books about mindset or other athletes.

This is different.

KJ smiles when he casually brings it up, that he likes having someone outside of his hockey bubble.

“Dumb, jock boy learns about work-life balance,” they laugh and go back to chopping vegetables in his kitchen.

He doesn’t bring up that he liked hanging out with her in college in the same way. That they only lived in the same place for about nine months and some of his time with KJ are his fondest memories.

He liked when she invited him to parties.  Ones that didn’t always blast the same music he heard at the hockey house. Where people asked where he was from or what his major was rather than how the Olympics were or when he was leaving for the NHL. Liked that they talked about things he didn’t know anything about and didn’t make fun of him (much), just told him in a way he could understand.

He’s glad he gets to have this with KJ for the foreseeable future, even if it’ll less frequent when he gets back on the ice.

“Are you going to be playing again next week?” She dumps the vegetables in a frying pan.

“Probably not, I think I’m going to be able to practice maybe, or at least skate.”

“That’s exciting! And I hope you get to play sooner than you think, but if you’re not, do you want to go to a ‘Boob Voyage’ party with me?”

“A what?”

“My friend is getting his top surgery, so we’re throwing him party to say ‘ta ta to his tatas.”

“Clever.”

“It’s not your usual crowd, but it’s basically gonna be a college party at a place with a less sticky floor. And I’ll make sure no one posts anything with you on social media, just thought maybe you could meet some of my friends.”

She says it a little too fast, like they’re nervous. Something Kent’s not sure he’s ever witnessed. He can’t tell if it’s nerves about him saying no or him meeting their friends. KJ has met a couple of his teammates; Adam lives nearby and is coming over for dinner in a few minutes.

“Sure, I’ll go,” and it’s worth the answer just to see her smile.

++++

“Maybe you don’t need to change, you’re dressed like a lesbian,” KJ laughs when Kent opens the door.

“What?”

“I have that exact outfit in my closet,” they laugh, pointing mostly at the Birkenstock clogs he’s been wearing since he left the rink.

A retort dries on his tongue when KJ takes off her coat. She’s wearing a white sweater vest with nothing underneath, only the top button holding it together. The loose knit not hiding their dark, rosy nipples underneath.

Thankfully, KJ doesn’t seem to notice the staring.

“Do you mind if I finish my makeup while you get dressed?” She’s holding up her purse, shaking its contents in his face, “But no pressure, you can wear that, you’d fit in pretty well.”

He rolls his eyes and leads them up to his bedroom, a place they haven’t been to except for the brief tour he gave during the first visit.

She walks into the ensuite like she owns the place, leaving the door open and looking at Kent who feels like he’s helplessly staring.

“You can give me a little fashion show if you’re not sure what you’re going to wear, but whatever is probably be fine. James, who’s party it is, is totally basic dude fashion.”

Kent nods and wanders over to his walk-in closet. He tries not to overthink anything while he flips through his hangers.

Once he’s dressed, he leans in the bathroom door until KJ notices.

“Oooh, I like the red, very The Ohio State,” they smile at the bright red button down he’s wearing over a cream shirt.

Kent rolls his eyes and moves to go back to his closet.

“You can’t be mad at me for being an Ohio native. But let me try it again. Go Blue! And you look very Canadian, patriotic.”

“Better,” his mouth twists into a smirk while he looks in the mirror to fix his hair, after wearing a beanie all day.

KJ finishes applying mascara, one eye has swoosh of blue eyeliner and the other pink. Then jumps to sit on the counter, in between the his and hers sinks he doesn’t have a real need for.

“Let me do your make up,” it’s easier for them to bat their eyelashes when they’re thick and sooty like this.

Kent can feel his face contort in a look between confusion and disgust, he doesn’t even need to look up at his reflection.

“Come on, you’ll look so cute! I mean, you’re always cute but even cuter,” she pushes a lock of his hair out of his face, “I’ll keep it simple, just highlight your perfect cheekbones and a little eye makeup.”

She stares him down like she’s not going to beg, but she’s also not going to give up.

“Fine, but only cause you’re making me feel underdressed.”

He lets KJ rearrange him between their open legs, they grab his chin and positions his face the way they want. She gets the intense, focused look on her face when she starts. Her mouth hangs open a bit, their tongue pushing against the gap in their front two teeth.

Kent wants to put his tongue there, too.

He shakes his head like the intrusive thought will fall out, KJ laughs when it causes their brush to go off course. She uses her thumb to try and correct the mistake.

“All done,” they give his cheeks a quick squeeze together and hop off the counter.

She’s still standing in front of him, back pressed all against his front. Looking for approval from his reflection.

He feels kind of pretty.

His cheekbones look somehow sharper and softer at the same time, his eyes brighter than usual with sharp black eyeliner, a sprinkling of glitter at the corner of his eyes.

“Do you like it? I won’t tell anyone if you do,” biting their lip, looking a bit nervous.

Kent can only wordlessly nod, he doesn’t hate it and he’s not quite sure how he feels about that.

“Okay, let’s go.”

They arrive to the party and roar of cheers come with KJ’s arrival. They hold Kent’s hand while they make introductions.

“Let’s play beer pong, loosen you up a bit,” pulls him towards the table, let’s go of his hand for the first time since they arrived.

The beer pong is familiar enough to make him relax a bit. The balls are bright pink and they’re using plastic champagne glasses, when they sink a shot it kind of looks like nipple. He guesses that’s sort of the point.

They win a game and KJ jumps into his arms to celebrate. He feels drunk even though he’s only had maybe one drink.

But then there’s shots and dancing where he can feel the heat radiating off KJ’s body.  

There are more shots and people asking Kent questions he normally would never think about, like how the NHL insurance is.

Another shot and then getting shoved into a rented photobooth with strangers.

He gets another drink and laughs from couch with KJ’s friends, KJ comes and plops half on the arm of the couch, half in his lap. His hand carefully rests on her hip.

“Cage, when you said you were bringing a straight boy, I didn’t think you meant your beard from Mich!” A bleach blonde woman Kent vaguely remembers meeting in college shouts from her chair across from them.

KJ flips her off, while she tells their new friends that they used to call them gay KJ and straight KJ after they learned he was in fact not a butch lesbian.

“I’m expanding our hetero horizons, we’re like one more shared ex-girlfriend from being an incestuous cult,” KJ laughs and slides completely into Kent’s lap

“You’re really enjoying that hetero exploration,” a man whose name Kent forgot catcalls.

“Guys stop! You’re gonna make him think we’re really narrow-minded gays.”

KJ laughs and wraps an arm around Kent’s shoulder, as the conversation ping pongs into another direction.

They stumble out into the street at about 2 AM, Kent thinks it’s the drunkest he’s been since college.

“My place is closer, let’s walk there,” KJ slurs and pulls him in that direction.

They’re arm in arm while they walk towards her place, it reminds Kent of the time KJ came to a hockey party and at the end of the night she begged for him to give her a piggyback ride home because she was so tired.

KJ fumbles with their keys and falls through the door with Kent on top of her when it suddenly opens. They both can’t hold back their laughs.

“Shh, shhhh, we don’t want to wake your roommate,” Kent tries to stop laughing.

“She’s working at the lab this weekend, we’re all good,” they start up the stairs after hanging up their coat.

Kent strips to his boxers and crawls into bed, he’s never gotten under the covers here. Just sat on top of the duvet with KJ like they were two teenagers worried a parent would walk in and assume the worst.

KJ comes back on wobbly legs, her hair piled on top of her head with a claw clip holding it in place, it looks kind of stupid. Their makeup is washed off and they’re wearing glasses that remind him of Owen’s, which is the last thing he wants to be thinking about right now.

Especially when KJ is crawling on top of him.

He’s about to say something when they move to hold his chin in place. Her thumb drifts up to his lower lip, nail pressing against the soft flesh. He sucks in a breath, their thumb drifts into his mouth.

KJ’s gaze is so adoring, he feels paralyzed by all the emotions going through his head.

She then brings a washcloth up to his face and gently wipes away the makeup. Kent hates that he has to close his eyes, like it’s breaking some spell that hasn’t finished casting.

When they pull the washcloth away, they tilt his head side to side, checking their work.

“Perfect,” KJ leans in close.

Kent has to hold his breath, tries to stop himself from being impulsive. Then KJ’s lips are touching his and he knows deep down it’s probably meant to be a quick peck, but he has to try or he’ll regret missing his perfect chance.

He grabs their hip with one hand and gently cups the back of her neck with the other. His grip is loose enough that KJ could break away if she wanted to, but instead they start to kiss back.

The washcloth slaps to ground while KJ moves to use Kent’s shoulder for stability. Their tongues meet in the middle and it all feels more intoxicating than any of the alcohol he had tonight.

Now that he knows she’s not pulling away he moves his hand at their neck down her chest. KJ hasn’t changed yet, and it’s easy to flick open the one button and expose their bare chest.  He grabs a handful and she moans into his mouth.

KJ can’t seem to hold themselves up anymore. Pinning Kent’s hand between their bodies. KJ is soft and curvy everywhere Kent is flat and firm, and their bodies seem to mold together.

“I’m sorry, I’m drunk.”

Kent’s suddenly cold and KJ seems to have flung herself across the room.

He doesn’t know what’s the right thing to say, he doesn’t know why KJ is apologizing; he’s the one who started this.

She’s taking off her sweater and pants, changing into their pajamas and all he can do is gawk like a moron, until they turn off the lights.

“I’m drunk too,” he finely says, lamely late into the dark.

“Good night, KJ,” she whispers from the other side of the bed.

“Night KJ, I had fun,” he whispers back, a hand reaches across the bed and squeezes his, it might as well be squeezing his heart.

++++

He leaves the next morning before KJ wakes up; a walk of shame for his actions, for the conversation he doesn’t know how to have, for the things he’s not ready to admit.

Then he’s back on the ice for a full-contact practice and there’s not much time to think about it. It doesn’t stop the guilt from stewing deep down in his gut, but it’s easier to ignore when he’s back in the lineup.

Harder to ignore when he gets a series of texts from KJ:

ur game is on at this bar

saw you score 🍻😘

 first game back baby 💖🥵💪

He knows he should probably invite her to a game now, make a peace offering that might make things seem normal. They’ve been texting like everything is normal, KJ sent him some pictures from the party. Maybe KJ is showing him mercy by ignoring what happened, maybe they don’t even remember.

He hearts the texts and talks about plans to celebrate with some of the guys.

They continue to live in ignorance while the guilt and confusion gnaws at his insides.

Then it’s shoved in his face at team’s Thanksgiving dinner. The first thing someone yells at him, “KJ where’s your girlfriend?”

He tries to play it off, making a joke about Fants who he carpooled with, it holds them off for approximately 10 minutes.

Zach’s fiancée, who had all of one conversation with KJ, asks him next, “Why didn’t you bring your girlfriend? Afraid of the full team interrogation?”

He doesn’t even know where to begin. That’s KJ isn’t his girlfriend? That they wouldn’t even be his girlfriend if they were dating? She would be his partner? Some other term he doesn’t even know yet?

“Um, she’s­ – they’re volunteering with some friends.”

“Okay, so not at the introducing to all the friends or spending holidays together phase, I understand,” she winks and walks away and Kent knows she doesn’t understand anything.

He gets a small reprieve with a week-long road trip where he feels so busy, that the plane-bus-hotel-practice-game-sleep repeat has never felt so good. And if he’s acting weird or aloof, no one comments. He takes it all as a win, even if they lose three in a row.

They lose the first game of the homestead; he wakes up to a text from KJ.

The washer in our building broke can I come do laundry?

It’s maybe the most innocuous thing they could have texted. He invites her over that night, offers to order dinner for them.

They come over in a pair of threadbare sweatpants and rainbow block M shirt, dragging a large rolling suitcase, pushing past Kent at the door to go to the laundry closet. They just start dumping things into the washer, pouring in soap, and ignoring Kent who doesn’t even know how to start talking. Even if there might not be anything to talk about.

She slams washer door and punches buttons until it comes to life, finally turning to Kent.

They cut their hair since he lost saw her. It’s almost as short as his hair, a choppy approximation of a mullet. It suits them.

“So, let’s sit down and talk about that kiss,” they come right out and say it, Kent chokes on his breath.

“You brought laundry for an ambush?”

“Our washer really is broken, so it was a good excuse. And I get free laundry done.”

He can’t fault her for that, let’s himself get pushed towards the living room couch to face the music.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts the moment they’re both sitting.

KJ bites their lip, her tooth gap barely peeking out.

“For what?” she says it so timidly, like she’s just as unsure about all of this as Kent.

Which can’t possibly be true, because they always know. They’re always so sure and headstrong. And Kent’s the one who misread everything, pushed himself on her without thinking about what KJ really wants. Only his own selfish desires.

“I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you when you were drunk, I know you don’t— you wouldn’t— I’m not—" he doesn’t know how to fill in that blank.

“You’re not what? My type?” Kent can only shrug, “and why’s that? Cause you’re straight?”

“I don’t know, I’m just confused,” he mumbles, can’t even look up to see what kind of expression KJ is making.

“Well having a crush on me does make you a little less straight,” KJ snickers and it makes him look up.

They’re giving him a sad kind of smile. He doesn’t know how to take it, but he doesn’t feel like he’s about to be reprimanded.

“And that’s what that was right? You have a crush on me?” Kent purses his lips, doesn’t want to make the wrong move.

“Because, I have a little bit of a crush on you too,” she puts a hand on his knee and squeezes, it’s electric.

“But you stopped us, and then apologized.”

“Being drunk isn’t usually a great starting point for big monumental changes between friends and,” she takes a big breath, “and I’ve never actually had sex with um—” they gesture in the general direction of Kent’s crotch.

“What?” Kent cocks his head to the side.

“I mean, I didn’t even know I liked boys until college and by then I was pretty comfortable with the lesbian sex and—"

“Didn’t you have a boyfriend like a year ago?” He remembers seeing something on Instagram.

“He was trans so… it’s not the penetration part cause, trust, I’ve had my fair share of penetration. I’ve given my fair share of penetration,” they ruffle their own hair while they ramble, Kent’s kind of endeared.

“And like the one time I gave a blow job in college I was super drunk and threw up on his dick… so I went back to the lesbian sex because I’m good at that.”

He can’t hold back the surprised laugh. He’s not used to this squirmy KJ.

“So, the biological equipment is all kind of new to me; it’s soft and then it’s hard and then there’s a mess and—”

“KJ, shut up.”

Kent cups their face so she can focus on him.

“As much as I love you being the uncomfortable one for once, just shut up.”

She stares at him with wide eyes, waiting for his next move.

“Here I was worrying I forced myself on you and questioning my identity, and you’re having an existential crisis about my dick?”

Their eyebrows shoot up to their hairline, “you were questioning your identity?”

“We can circle back to that later,” he leans in to kiss them, before they can say anything else.

The first kiss was nice, but this one is great. There’s certainty behind it that makes Kent feel warm all over. He pushes KJ onto their back, her legs fall open and Kent slots between them.

After what feels like eternity, they come up for air. They tangle their fingers in his hair, keeping him from getting too far away. Her legs tighten around his hips, like she’s testing where the new boundaries might be.

The washer chimes that it’s done.

KJ kisses him once, twice then pushes him off to go to the laundry. His eyes follow her helplessly.

She comes back sans sweatpants, the t-shirt falling just past the tops of the their thighs, and stops at the foot of the stairs.

“I think your bedroom might be a more conducive learning environment,” she gives him a lopsided, shy smile.

He jumps over the back of the couch, scrambling towards them. He grabs their hips and pulls them back into a kiss, but stops before he gets in too deep.

“What if this ruins our friendship?”

“Eh, have other friends,” she has a wicked grin, Kent bites their lip in retaliation.

[justlemmeadoreyou]

Secret Little Rendezvous-5

Summary: The fifth and last part to Secret Little Rendezvous

Words: 3.5k+

Warnings: Angst! There's a lot of angst, fighting and cursing in this one. Hints of smut too, mentions toxic relationship. Alludes to smut.

(previous part here) | (series masterlist) | (main masterlist)

Dylan and your relationship was blossoming. It was going well.

Given, you two hadn’t slept together. Yet.

You didn’t want to get physical so early. It had been 2 weeks or so, and the most physical affection was kisses and neck bites, and the one time you had sucked him off.

It was your idea. He was pent-up and frustrated because he was working hard on a project, and most of it was rejected by the client at a glance. That made you so angry. That person didn’t even bother to see his viewpoint, or why he did it the way he did. 

So, you invited him back to your house, right after work. Made him his favorite: macaroni and cheese.

“Hi,” he had greeted you sweetly, even though he had had a shit day. You loved that about him.

“Hi, how was your day?” you asked, even though you already knew how it was. Maybe he would want to talk about it?

“Eh, it was shit. Got rejected on the project proposal I had been working on for the past week or so, and the client threw my report in the dustbin”

“No! Why would he do that?!” you exclaimed. Saying no was one thing. But tossing reports that took so long to prepare right into the trash was another.

“I know. He’s an asshole. How are you, though?”

You smiled.

“I’m good–I had a nice day. The code I was reviewing today was actually good, and I didn’t have to revert. “

“That’s a relief. I hate it when we have to check the whole thing all over again and 

Check the security and data compromises.”

“I know, right? Anyway, go and change. I made you dinner”

His eyes lit up when you said that, and he walked over to you with his arms extended in front of him. He came over to you and hugged you, his face resting perfectly on the alcove of your neck. 

“You’re the best”

“Alright, big guy. I’ll get the food on the plate. Go and get changed”

He eventually let go of you, but not without pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

He came back a few minutes later, face fresh and looking good. He sat back and relaxed, while you brought him the plate and sat on the table adjacent to his.

He took a spoonful of the dish, the yummy smell of cheesy goodness hitting him. As he tasted it, a grin spread across his face.

"Wow," he said, nodding approvingly. "This is amazing. You really did a great job, Y/n."

You felt proud hearing his praise, a warm feeling spreading inside. "Thanks, I'm glad you like it," you said, feeling a bit shy. "It's just a simple recipe, but I'm happy it turned out well."

He kept eating, and you sat across from him, enjoying the moment. It was nice, just being together and sharing a meal. And as you watched him, you couldn't help but feel grateful for these simple, happy times.

After dinner, he wiped his mouth and sat back, his stomach full and he looked happier than before.

“That was good”

“Mhmm, you know, this macaroni wasn’t the only delicious-looking thing tonight”

As soon as you said that, his heartbeat rose, and his mouth fell open. He dropped the napkin on the table and looked at you with wide eyes.

“What–what do you–what do you mean?” he asked, but before he could say anything else, you were already sinking down to your knees in front of him. You smirked, pushing his thighs apart and settling down comfortably.

His hands came to rest on your shoulders softly, asking you if you really wanted to.

“You–you don’t have to do this, babe. I’m perfectly fine going to bed and sleeping, or–or if you want me to leave, I can–I can leave too, you know”

You shook your head, taking his hands from your shoulders and holding them in yours, pressing a kiss to the top of each, “Yeah, I’m sure. And it’s good. I want you to relax. Let some of that tension and frustration go away”

He nodded, but he was still unsure.

But you made all of that go away. Starting slow, you took your time with him, built the pleasure and tension perfectly, licking his cock and fondling his balls, sucking at the tip, till he was cuming inside your mouth.

“You–you don’t have to fuck–oh, you don’t have to swallow–”

He muttered, but you had already done it, smirking up at him as he picked you up and kissed you,wrapping his arms around your waist. He apologized later for not returning the favor because he was so tired. You brushed it off, knowing it wasn’t a give-and-take relationship like you had with Harry.

Harry.

Oh.

You hadn’t thought about him in a while. Sure, you would see him in the office every couple of days, but he ensured no contact between you two. It was good…for the most part.

Olivia acted like you were a witch. She frowned and scowled whenever you were nearby, and she really needed to grow up. She had her ego inflated over the fact that Harry had chosen her instead of you.

Only if she knew how much of a lie it was.

.  .  .

Dylan was up for a promotion.

He had been in line for it too when you had gotten it. He was planning on leaving the company after that, because there would be no open positions for a while. So, he had submitted an application, stating that if he didn't get the promotion, he would leave the company. And given that he was a hardworking employee, who had shown excellent growth in the 4 years he had been in the company, there was no way he wouldn’t get it.

He gave the news to you two days later when he had taken you to dinner at a restaurant.

“Sooo I’ve–I’ve been wanting to talk about something” he said, after you had been talking about each other’s families for a while.

“Yeah, sure. What’s up”

“I–I got the promotion, Y/n.”

“Oh my god! That’s amazing! Come on, give me a hug” you exclaimed, so happy for him. You got up immediately and hugged him, earning a few unwat\nted glances from fellow diners.

“Well, that was awkward” he said after, and you nodded.

The conversation had stopped after that, and you could sense the shift in his demeanor. He wanted to tell you something else too.

“Dylan, what’s wrong?” you asked, your heart throbbing erratically, sensing something wrong.

He sighed, his gaze troubled. "Y/N, I've been offered the promotion, but...it means I have to relocate."

Your heart sank at his words, the reality of the situation hitting you like a ton of bricks. "Relocate? But what about us?"

Dylan hesitated, his expression pained. "I don't know what to do, Y/N. I want this promotion, but I also don't want to lose you."

Tears pooled in your eyes, because you knew where this was headed.

“You–you wanna break up with me?”

Your voice was just above a whisper, and you could see by the look on his face that the answer was yes.

“I don’t know! I want this promotion, and–and this is the only way I can get it. And if I leave the company, I would have to start in the exact position I want to get out from”

You sighed, the gravity of the situation finally settling in.

“But–but, we can–we can go long-distance…”

The words trailed off in your mouth. Long distance was a big thing, and you had been dating for about a month and a half. You two hadn’t been physically involved, and that may have been one of the reasons he wasn’t too reluctant to break up, or think of other options.

“Is–is this about us not having sex? It’s easier for you to break up because we aren’t that close yet. Because we haven’t fucked yet”

He dropped the spoon, and brought his hand to his face, rubbing his eyes with it.

“No, it’s not about that. I mean, we haven’t been dating for so long, and I–I don’t think our relationship could stand that. It’s a big commitment. And we won’t be able to see each other for months, because I would be working at the same level as you. Work can get hectic, and Y/n, you know that too, right?”

You nodded, staring at the tablecloth.

“And–and I often resort to drinking every three days or so, and God forbid I do something wrong while I’m out at a club, because I don’t have you by my side. I don’t want to call you one morning, telling you that I was unfaithful”

His words sank in, and you sighed. He was right. Your relationship wasn’t that strong to take the toll of long distance, and if one of you made a drunk mistake, the other would be crushed.

With a heavy sigh, you finally spoke up. "I...I guess you're right, Dylan. Maybe it's for the best if we end things now, before it gets too complicated."

Dylan reached out, taking your hand in his, his expression filled with sadness. "I'm sorry, Y/n. I never wanted to hurt you."

You gave him a small, sad smile, squeezing his hand gently. "I know, Dylan. And I'm sorry too."

.  .  .

He left a month later, and you were left with a broken heart.

Why did everyone leave?

Were you just that unlovable that God saved everyone from you?

You found solace in throwing yourself into work, often staying late into the night to distract yourself from those troubling thoughts. While the temptation to drown your sorrows in alcohol was present, you knew it would only serve to bury those long-buried emotions deeper within you.

Little did you know, there was one other employee working late that night.

He knocked at your door, and it was almost 10:00 pm. You were planning on leaving soon, and the thought of who else might stay late made you curious.

“Come in” you yelled, and in came the green eyed guy, whom you hadn’t seen in weeks.

“Harry”

He nodded, leaning in on the doorframe.

“Y/n. How are you?”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“Dylan left a week ago. You’ve been working till late ever since. Wanted to check if you were alright”

“Since when do you care?” you replied, unsure of where all this was coming from, especially for a guy who had no feelings for you.

“You know I’ve always cared for you. Since before we were together till today. I never stopped caring”

Your eyes lifted up, staring into his.

“What do you want?”

He sighed, and walked to your desk. He pulled a chair out, dragged it across to your end, and sat beside you.

“Harry–what are you doing?”

“Nothing”

He took your hand in his, and stared into your eyes. It had been so long since you had done that.

“Listen. I know you feel alone right now. And–I’m here for you if you ever wanna talk”

You were not liking his two-faced behavior.

“Shut up”

“What?!” he exclaimed, as if you had said something wrong.

“Don’t give me that “I’m there for you” crap. You don’t give a fuck about me. And you made that perfectly clear when you threw me away those months ago.”

“That’s not true. I do care for you. And I did not  throw you away, okay? It was–It was you, who dumped me”

Your eyes widened, and you stared at him in disbelief.

“You’ve got that wrong! You said you were just with me for sex. And then you said that you can’t take it further because I was getting the wrong signals.”

“I never said that. I just that I was in love with someone else, and that–that I won’t be able to commit to you in the way you want me to”

You sat back, defeated.

“Why Are you pulling all this crap now? Just leave”

You pushed him back, closing the applications on your computer and getting ready to leave.

“Where–what are you doing?”

“Going home. Saving myself from you”

“But, listen–” he got up, just as you did. He grabbed your hand once again.

“What?!” you yelled.

“Just listen to me, please–”

“I’m done fucking listening. I was done listening three months ago”

“But–I–I want to say something–”

You ignored him, taking your stuff and shoving it in your bag. You fetched your keys, and opened uber to call a cab, because your car was with your sister.

“Y/n listen–”

You picked your stuff, slinging your bag over your shoulders and went to turn the lights off. But, what he said next, made you freeze.

“I love you!”

Your legs stopped working, and your eyes widened.

What the fuck.

“Excuse me?” 

You turned around, your eyes full of anger.

He lowered his gaze to the floor, and the anger within you skyrocketed.

You dropped your things to the table once again, walking to him and standing right in front of him.

“I–I love you”

He said once again, his gaze trained to the floor.

You grabbed his chin, lifting his head up. 

His eyes looked into yours. His, were apologetic. Yours, full of anger and disbelief.

“The fuck do you mean you love me? Did Olivia dump you? Or did the whole city say no to sleeping with you?”

Your words hurt him, and his heart sank.

“No! Why–why would you think that?”

“Or–Oh! Or did Natalia stop loving you? Huh? You over her? Your eternal undying love for her is finished?”

He shook his head, “No, I–I broke up with Olivia a month ago. I–I don’t like her anymore”

“Because you love Natalia, right”

“I–I don’t! I–I love you”

“You know you’re saying that to a void, right? Because you’re not getting one back from me in return. What do you want me to do? I should forget all you did to me and come running into your arms? Is that what you want?”

He gave no response, his gaze lowered, even though you were holding his chin up.

“Speak up, Harry!” you yelled, and he flinched. It was the second time you were yelling at him like that, and it made him genuinely scared.

“No, No–I’m not saying that. I–I just want you–to give me a second chance”

“Huh” you exclaimed in disbelief, letting his face go and took a few steps back.

“I’m not fucking around, Y/n. I swear. I–I just want you to take me back once again. I want you to give me a second chance. And punish me however you feel like. Beat me, throw things at me, yell at me. Please, but—but please, give me a second chance. Please”

His voice sounded broken, and tears welled up in his eyes.

“What happened to you, huh? You were, this Harry with a wall of cement over your heart. You threw away anyone who tried to care about you. You threw me away. And now you’re standing in my office, crying, and you want me to care about you once again? Forget what you did to me!?”

Your voice was breaking too, and you too, were about to cry.

“I’m sorry for what I did to you. I was an asshole, and I will never forgive myself for that. But–believe me when I say that I have changed, and that–that I love you”

You couldn’t believe him. Not after what you went through after that. He sounded like he was telling the truth, and you wanted to believe him! But you still couldn’t understand why.

“What happened with Natalia, Harry? And Olivia?”

“I–I broke up with her. I wanted to be with you. But you were with Dylan, and–and I was heartbroken. I thought that I lost you forever”

“Would that be so bad?” you asked.

He walked to you, and got down on his knees in front of you. He reached for your hand, and when you didn’t protest, he took it in his, once again.

“I realized just how much I had lost when I let go of you. I lost the one person I trusted the most. I lost you, and I realized I had no one to even talk to. I had no one to laugh with, no one to get wasted with. You were always there for me. You helped me when I couldn’t help myself, and you even went out of your way to do that. You saved me from being fired, and–and I kept believing the wrong people. When I should have believed you. I should have known you were right. I was–I was just frustrated over the fact that Natalia had broken it off with me. I still believed she loved me, and that–she would leave everything to come back to me. And–and I was wrong. I was wrong about Olivia too. All she wanted was sex, and after almost 2 months with her, I realized she was a female version of me”

You would’ve laughed at that, if the circumstances were different.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. Sorry sorry sorry. I will apologize all you want, I’ll do anything, just–just please, please, take me back”

“But–what happened with Natalia?”

He frowned at the mention of her name, and you squinted your eyes.

“You saw Natalia, didn’t you? And she has something to do with you growing up suddenly? And realizing I was right?”

He gritted his teeth, head lowering as he blinked his eyes in shame.

“Knew it. What did she do?” you said.

“She uh–I went to see her on the weekend, couple weeks before, and to my absolute fucking good luck, her whole family was there”

He raised his eyebrows, remembering just how painful and embarrassing it was.

“So—yeah, I approached her, and everyone asked who I was. So, uh, she said I was her brother”

“Yep. That’ll do it” you replied.

His nose was scrunched, lips in a small pout as he whined at you.

“I then realized she never had feelings for me. She might have had all those years ago, but–she definitely doesn’t”

You nodded. 

You sat in silence for a while, no words exchanged between you two. He looked up at you after a while, his eyes searching for an answer.

“You treated me like shit, Harry. Threw me away like trash the minute you were fed up of me–”

“I wasn’t fed up of you–”

“Let me finish! And don't you dare interrupt me once again”

He shut his mouth and nodded.

“You threw me away the second you found someone to replace me. You threw away my feelings, my emotions, everything. You threw away the trust I had for you. And–and I don’t know if I can trust you once again. You were sleeping with two people, and–and you didn’t even bother telling me! What if I got an STD? And you know how expensive healthcare is! I don’t even know if my insurance covers STDs!”

“I’m sorry”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Harry. You know that”

“Then tell me what to do! Please. I’ll do anything you want. Anything. You want me to murder someone, I’ll do it too”

“I’ll do whatever it takes”  his response was instant.

You shook your head once again.

“You’re not going to get me back so easily”

“Okay, first of all, I’m going to treat you like crap. I’m going to call you when I want, I’m going to do whatever I want. I will sleep with multiple guys. And maybe girls too. I will drink and go home with any person I want. I will run away as soon as you’ve orgasmed. I will not give you any aftercare. I will yell at you for caring about me. Understand?”

He hesitated, mouth open and in distress.

“See? How does it feel when the tables are turned? Feels bad? Huh?”

He nodded, pouting.

“Well, I don’t give a fuck. Feels good from where I see it”

He lowered his gaze in defeat, once again.

You grabbed his face, once again, making him look at you.

“It’s not going to go back to what it was in one night, Harry. It will take time. I will take time.”

“Yes, yes. Whatever you want”

“Maybe months”

“Of course!”

“Years, even”

“I can wait for eternity if It means I get to be with you once again” he declared, and you cringed.

“Wow. I’m gonna dump you right now for saying that” you teased, a playful smirk dancing on your lips.

“Okay–sorry! I’m sorry. I can–I can wait for however long you want, Y/n”

You licked your lips, and he brought your hands to his face, kissing your knuckles.

“Alright. Drop me home. And I want ice cream.”

He smiled, nodding happily, and getting up in an instant.

“Yes!” he exclaimed, and you bit back a smile. He may be a moron, but he was your moron.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

tell me if you like this!

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[linphd]

alice! i have a req if its okay... how about shoto, kirishima and monoma reacting to their girlfriends who asks them to take off their shirt so she can kiss and touch their torsos and muscles?

You want to see their muscles | Headcanons

female reader

-> I actually really like this idea ! And I’m very happy to get requested Kiri and Monoma ! I didn’t go as far as kissing them because I wanted to keep it rather fun to read so sorry if that part was important to you 👉🏻👈🏻 I’ll probably write another one with maybe Bakugou, Tamaki and Shinsou !

-> Eijiro Kirishima, Neito Monoma, Shoto Todoroki.

Eijiro Kirishima

You were laying on his chest in your dorm room, feeling his muscular torso under his shirt. Suddenly, you got an idea. « Eijiro. » you started. « Oh, you’re using my first name ! That’s a very serious question you’re gonna ask ! » he said, but with an amused voice.

« I wanna see your abs. » you explained. « I… sure, babe, but you see them all the time with my hero costume ? » he started taking off his shirt, a bit confused. « It’s because I wanna know how it feels. I always feel them when we hug and stuff but I wanna get a precise feeling. » you explained.

He grinned, making his pecs move to impress you. « You could have told me you just wanted to get closer to me. » he said, all happy to see you tilt your head at his pecs moving. He opened his arms, allowing you to touch wherever you wanted.

« Oh wow ! You really feel how they stand out- » you said as you ran your fingers on his abs, making him giggle. « Yeah ! You thought it would be molded into my body ? » he kept giggling. « Kinda ! I’m not muscular like that ! »

You continued until you asked : « Can I feel it when it’s hardened ? » He hesitated for some seconds and took your hands off his arm. « Sure, but be careful not to cut yourself, okay ? » you nodded and spent a few minutes comparing his body normal and hardened after that.

Neito Monoma

You were just working on a school project together when you suddenly got an idea. « Hey, can I see your abs ? » you asked, out of the blue. His shoulder switched a bit from the surprise of the question. « Well, that’s a really random question to ask ? »

As he looked obviously confused, you giggled. « It’s because your hero costume never shows your arms and stuff, it’s not tight ! And you’re in a hero school, even if your quirk doesn’t forcefully rely on strength, I’m sure you’ve got some muscles, right ? » you explained.

« That’s a lot of words just to say you want to see me naked. » he only replied, putting his pen down. You gasped amused at the accusation. « Not even ! I’m just curious ! » you said, and he complied. He started to take off his pullover. « You better not eye-rape me ! » he said, noticing that you were looking already.

« Of course not ! » you said, as his torso was now fully exposed in front of you. He indeed got some muscles going on ! You were surprised since he was the type of guy to actually wear clothes that weren’t tight -one of the only ones in the hero branch- but hey, he had to have some muscles to fight !

« See ?! You’re making it weird ! » he yelled, picking his pullover up. « I’m not ! I’m just looking ! I can’t look ?! » he scoffed. « If you stare, I wanna stare too…. » You giggled, showing more of your arms. « See ? I’m quite muscular too. » you said, sticking your tongue out.

Shoto Todoroki

You were actually training together, but as he was trying new techniques, Shoto was only wearing tank tops and had taken off the top of the sports uniform. This got you curious, but you were obviously not going to say anything until you were both hanging out in his dorm room.

« Hey, I have a weird question but I don’t know if it will make you uncomfortable. » you started. « How so, love ? Go ahead ? » he reassured you. « I never get to really see your muscles up close and since I’m not muscular like that… I kinda wanna know how it feels… » you explained.

He actually snorted a bit, taking off his pyjamas top. « I don’t quite get it, but I don’t mind you touching them. » he said. You hadn’t expected him to be that muscular. You knew about Kirishima’s and Bakugou’s, but Shoto’s were a bit hidden with his hero costume.

« How are you even that muscular at your age ?! You lift what ?! Buildings ?! » you started, making him chuckle at your reaction. « Lots of training ! Many boys are like this in our class. » he said. « I know ! But it’s so weird to feel them like that ! » you explained.

« You’re built too, you know. » he started. « Yeah, but it’s not big muscles like that ! » you replied. But then you realized. « Oh. You want me to take off my top, too. » Well, wasn’t he supposed to be the awkward one ? « I wanna compare, it’s all. Do you think I touch other people’s arms ?! » and he even managed to make you laugh ! How much he had grown !

[brooooswriting]

Hey can I request a fic with Jenna or Tara up to you but it’s like reader is not used to people listening and liking her rambling about something she’s passionate about like super hero’s and comics for example and then Jenna or Tara actually do listen without stopping her and saying she’s annoying and then reader gets all giddy and happy

Own world

Popular!Tara Carpenter x reader

“Did you see the Marvel movie I recommended? It’s really great, the way-“ you couldn’t even finish your sentence before your roommate turned away to talk to someone else which made your shoulder sink. This was quite common, your friends never really listened to you, no matter how important the topic was to you. You loved films, it was just a passion of yours as it gave you some sense of comfort in a shitty household. It was also something to do when everybody else was out but you stayed in due to anxiety. You never guessed today would be different.

“Which one? The new guardian of the galaxy?” A small brunette asked, you didn’t even notice her sit down. She must have sat down while you were quiet for a second after you were interrupted. “N-no, the black widow one” you mumbled out carefully, deciding to keep your sentences short, it minimized the risk of getting cut off. “That’s a great one, the Dynamic between Natasha and Yelena is awesome” she smiled at you. You took a second to look at the girl, she was familiar somehow, you believed that she was in your calculus lecture. “Yeah, it’s nice” you mumbled as you played with your water bottle, you guys had a break but you didn’t like eating in front of people. “And she has never watched it?” The girl asked causing you to shake your head, “well which other marvel movie would you recommend and why?” Your face lit up immediately, hers did too. “Oh, the new Thor movie is quite nice, it has a lot of comedy to it but still maintains a balance between jokes and actual storyline. But if you like leading female roles you should watch the new black panther…” you were, again, interrupted by your roommate who now just noticed the brunette in front of you.

“Omg Tara, when did you sit down? I didn’t even notice you, or I would have rescued you earlier” the side eye that was thrown your way was pretty hard but what was even harder was how the brunette, Tara it seems, laughed. You thought she was dearly interested but you were wrong. With disappointment settled into your chest you stood up and walked away, deciding to go back to your dorm room to read some comics you just got. You didn’t notice the way Tara watched you walk away.

The next time you saw her was the next day in your calculus lecture, she sat a row in front of you with two other girls and two guys, while you sat alone. You knew one of the girls that sat next to her, Mindy, she was in your lecture about film and you worked some project together. The short haired girl turned around and waved at you which made you smile as you waved back.

During the lecture you glanced at the group every now and then to notice the following things: 1. One of the guys was watching football while the other one was weirdly starring at Tara, 2. Mindy was asleep by now and her girlfriend was doing some work for another lecture and 3. Tara was clearly not getting shit down there and she was the next person that had to pretend, which made her panic.

“Psst, Tara” you mumbled lightly kicking her chair which made her turn, “come up here and I’ll explain it and give you my work” you told her looking straight ahead so the prof wouldn’t notice. In a matter of seconds the girl climbed over the table and sat next to you, “you’re my savior” she mumbled out as she scribbled your answers down while you explained why you did what. “Miss Carpenter, it’s your turn presenting” the prof called out causing her to stand up, she gave you one last look. You nodded at her as a signal of support.

“Wow, I gotta say I’m impressed. This is the best you’ve been the whole year, seems like you improved. Well, lecture is over” you quickly packed your bag and walked out before the brunette came back up but she seemed to be quick enough to still catch up outside. She stood next to you and grabbed your arm to bring you to a hold, “thanks, you really saved me there. Let me take you out for coffee as a thank you” she smiled at you as you two stood in the middle of the hall, people watching you. It was uncommon, someone as popular as Tara with someone as shy as you.

“You don’t have to, but thank you. I just saw you struggle so I thought I could help, and I’m happy I could, you really don’t though. Mr. Bakers exercises are pretty hard most of the time so I totally get why you struggled” Tara watched you ramble with a small smile, she liked when you rambled. She had been watching you for a couple of weeks now, in the lecture and out on campus, or when you were with Mindy. “As much as I like your rambling, I’m taking you out for coffee. You still gotta tell me a bit” she grabbed your wrist again and pulled you into a caffe on the other side of the street.

She ordered and after a small argument also payed your food. “So, are you at the frat parts tonight?” She asked as you walked over the campus with coffee in hand, “no” you mumbled as you played with the cup in your hand. “Why not? I bet it’s gonna be fun” she smiled at you, she liked your shyness. “I don’t really like big parties especially if I barely know anyone, too many people and I still have stuff do to for the classes” you explained, “you would know me and Mindy and your roommate is gonna be there too right?” You only shrugged which caused her to drop the conversation.

“Tara, nice to see you” one girl you didn’t know called out which caused the two of you to stop. “Hey, how are you?” Tara asked the girl as she gave her a quick hug, you zoned out while they talked not noticing that they walked away, but it seems like they also didn’t notice that you didn’t walk with them. When you zoned back again they were kinda gone already, so you decided to turn around and head to the dorms throwing your coffee into the trash.

It was 10:30 pm when you sat in your dorm watching the Hawkeye series again until there was a knock on the door which confused you, your roommate only left 20 minutes ago there was no way she would be back already. So you finally stood up and opened the door to see Tara in a short dress with makeup on. She looked ready to go, so why would she be here? “Hi” she only said as she looked up at you, “what can I do for you?” You asked her as you looked over her shoulder. “You disappeared today, I wanted to check on you” you breathed out a laugh at her words, “you left with somebody else. I though you wanted to go to the party” she sighed as she looked into the dorm. “I did but I think I’d rather stay with you” your face bushed so hard that you tried to cover your face as best as possible. Nonetheless you took a step to the side to let the girl enter your dorm where she was quick to look around your side.

There were posters from the marvel movies and some pictures on the wall, the shelf’s were filled with comics and some books. “So what are we watching? She asked as she sat on your bed, making herself at home, “I was watching the Hawkeye series but we can watch whatever” you mumbled as you sat next to her. “Is that with the guy who shoots arrows?” You laughed a bit as you sat down next to her, “yeah, Hawkeye or Clint Barton but it isn’t just about him”

Five minutes later you were rambling about what kind of impact someone like Kate bishop had on the whole phase and what could possibly happen between Yelena and her. You were talking on and on without any pause, a smile on your face and your hands wildly gesticulating. “I mean it’s just something different you know? And the way they keep on putting more women into the leading roles just gives us as women a totally new opportunity” and again you just kept on talking until you suddenly stopped and just looked at the brunette in front of you. “What’s wrong? Why’d you stop?” She asked as she scanned your face, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to talk the whole time and annoy you” you said as you tuned away from her a bit. “What? Why’d you say that? I was very interested, come on keep talking” she encouraged you with a hand on your leg. “Really?” The shock on your face made her laugh a bit, “yeah”

So you kept talking, you were all giddy, smiling and laughing as you explained why you were so invested and she listened, sometimes asking questions but all with a smile on her face. “Do you maybe wanna, you know, stay and watch it with me? I could lend you something to wear if you want” she smiled brightly as she nodded.

Ten minutes later you two laid in bed in joggers and hoodies, her makeup was washed off showing her natural beauty. The Hawkeye series was playing in the background, “thank you” your voice was small and she wouldn’t have heard you if you weren’t laying so close. “Why?” She asked as she looked at you instead of you laptop, “because you listened to me, people barely do” you explained which made her sigh. The younger carpenter wasn’t sure what to say so instead she just shuffled closer and cuddled up to you.

Somewhere between the episode the two of you fell asleep, cuddled up with the series playing quietly. You woke up the next morning with a sticky note next to your pillow, it was from Tara.

“I had to go back before my sister kills me. Lunch at 2pm? If not call me

Xxx-xxx-xxx”

You smiled at the note as you got ready.

After some torturing lectures it was finally 2 pm. You went outside to find Tara and her group sitting at a table, she immediately waved you over. “Y/n, good that you’re here. Marvel or DC?” Mindy asked as Tara pulled you to sit next to her. “Marvel all the way” you answered causing Mindy and the younger carpenter to high-five. “No, so not true. DC has way better storylines” Chad said, his twin immediately booing him. “Y/n, tell him how he is wrong” the girl next to you said, but you were to self conscious about your rambling. “It’s fine, trust me” she mumbled as she wrapped her arms around your waist which gave you the comfort to start talking.

This was the first time in years that you finally had someone who wanted to listen to you. You discussed the topics with the others while Tara gazed up at you like you hung the stars.

Again you mumbled a “thank you” to her which made her kiss your cheek. You blushing again

She couldn’t wait to take you on a date.

You were scared of the way people were going to react.

[nonbinaryeggrolls]

When Someone Tries to Touch Your Hair

JJK men x gn black!reader

I had this idea for a little while and I absolutely love it. As someone who has to literally fight off ppl with a stick to keep them from basically "petting" me, I thought it would be so cute to write about the JJK men sticking up for you

Warnings: Fluff!, no nsfw but MINORS ARE STILL NOT ALLOWED GO AWAY, angst in Gojo's, specified braids/locs/twists in Toji's, unwanted physical touch, I think that's it!

Starring: Nanami Kento, Toji Fushiguro, Gojo Satoru

MINORS DNI. AGELESS AND MINOR BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

Nanami Kento

Of course he remains calm, he's always calm. but trust, inside he is BOILING with anger

Kento adores your hair, it sounds weird but he loves watching you on wash day care and tend to your hair with such detail and precision. Apart of it is so he can learn to do it himself one day so you won't have to spend so much time doing it yourself

He's always buying the best products for you no matter how expensive he knows black hair care products can be.

Design Essentials, Creme of Nature, Mielle, jojoba oil, tea tree oil, hair masks, curling cream-- you name it (or even glance at it in the store) he's already bought it for you

So seeing someone disrespect you by even attempting to touch you makes him absolutely livid

Kento: "I don't know I didn't think it was all that great, the plot didn't really make a lot of sense." Kento said as you two walked out the doors of the movie theater.

Y/N: "What?! I thought it was good, you're always hating on superhero movies you're like an old person. Oh! the boba place closes at 9:30 did you still wanna--

"Oh my gosh I just have to ask who does your hair? It's so pretty!" A young woman around your age popped up from behind you guys, her intensity kind of startling you a little bit

Y/N: "Oh, thank you that's so sweet! I actually do it myself" you smiled and she looked at you in astonishment

"Really? Wow it looks like it was done by a professional, I bet it takes you so long!"

Kento's eyebrow raise and body stiffen in an almost defensive way, he was already anticipating what was coming next

Y/N: "Yeah, sometimes it can. It kind of just depends on how tired I am that d--

Your body leaned back as she reached out to grab the top of your head. Kento wrapped his arm around you and pulled you back by your shoulders, shooting daggers at the woman as if she had just committed an unforgivable act

Kento: "Please step back. You don't need to touch them to compliment them." he reprimanded and held a firmer grip on your shoulder. He wasn't going to yell at a woman he didn't know but he sure as hell was going to get his point across

"O-oh Im sorry I didn't mean anything by it. I just think it looks really ni--

Kento: "Then you can think it's nice from a distance, they're not a dog. Have a good night." Kento intwined your hand in his and led you away to the car. You looked up at him and a small grin grew across your face

Kento: "Don't look at me like that."

Y/N: "You're like a guard dog. Like a snappy little golden retriever." you giggled before planting a kiss on his jaw which he returned with one on the top of your head

Kento: "Cmon lets go get boba."

Toji Fushiguro

Rage, Rage, and more RAGE

The anger that fills this mans body when someone tries to touch you is immeasurable, ESPECIALLY if its a man

Sometimes you have to calm Toji down when someone tries but its no use, he's already out of his seat and practically ready to kill

Toji is definitely someone who values his personal space, so he completely understood your frustration when you talked about how crazy it is that some people think its okay to try and touch you without permission

He's only seen it happen a few times, thankfully most people had common sense. But there was always that one asshole that crosses the line

You and Toji were out on a late night supply run getting items for Megumis science fair project. You roamed through the aisles of the arts and craft store filling your basket with acrylic paint, styrofoam blocks, construction paper and glue sticks

Toji: "What kind of fifth grader does a science project on soil erosion? Can't we just do something normal like a volcano or something?"

Y/N: "Are you gonna keep complaining all night or are you gonna actually help find everything on the list?" You turned around mad dogging him, both of you were tired and a little bit cranky and snappy at one another. Most of it was playful but some of it intended

Toji: "You look like a pig when you scrunch your knows like that." He chuckled attempting to pull you in for a kiss

Y/N: "You bitch-- Go get someone to open the spraypaints for us!" You said shoving your hand in his face and pushing his head back. Toji sauntered away to find the nearest employee to assist you guys

You stood alone in the aisle for a few minutes scrolling through instagram to pass the time until Toji came back, until a tap on your shoulder caught your attention. A random man, had approached you attempting to spark a conversation. Your eyes jotted back and forth around the area wondering where tf could Toji be and why was he taking so long to get back

"You got a really pretty smile you know that? Pretty hair too, you do this all by yourself?" He asked and took one of your (protective style)'s in his hands

Toji: "Now you..." Toji came up behind the man and planted a firm grip on his shoulder, "...are way too ugly and way too short to think they'd ever want someone like you to touch them. Don't you think?"

The man trembled in place at the vast size difference between the two

"I--"

He couldn't get a whole sentence in before Toji pulled him back by his hair then slammed him head first into the shelves next to him, making the man scream in pain. The star captured the attention of multiple employees and needless to say it wasn't long until you were being led out of the building by security.

Toji: "Did I do too much again?" He asked from the passenger seat, knowing full well he didn't regret his actions

Y/N: "We just got banned from the store, what do you think Toji?"

Toji: "Are you mad at me?"

Y/N: "Yes I'm mad!"

Toji: "Mm. The blush on your face doesn't look like someone who'd be mad at me." He grinned and you tried to hide the smile that started to form

Y/N: "Shut the fuck up."

Gojo Satoru

Gojo unfortunately was very ignorant to the topic at first

Maybe it was a cultural difference but when you told him people would ask to touch your hair he thought it wasn’t that big of a deal

“If someone admired your hair so much that they want to get close to it shouldn’t that be a compliment to you? It’s like they’re complimenting an artist for their artwork right? I don’t really see the harm in that, I touch Getos hair all the time and he's fine with it.” He said once before

Nonetheless it led to a very heated argument

He didn’t understand all the fuss around it, that was until he saw it actually happen

Seeing how physically uncomfortable you get when someone you don’t know tries to “pet” you put it all in perspective for him

Y/N: “Gojo, hurry we’re gonna miss the train!” You shouted as you ran through the subway station

Gojo: “I’m coming slow down! I don’t wanna drop anything.” He followed closely behind carrying the other bags of groceries you guys got from the farmers market

You both managed to slip through the train doors in time before it departed. You two managed to find two seats by the window, it was a preferred spot that way you both could gaze upon the countryside greenery as you passed on your way back to the city. Gojo leaned against the window and you leaned against his shoulder, the both of you trying to get some rest after a full day of walking.

The train stopped at its next spot to let on a few more passengers and a tap on your shoulder shook you out of your rest.

“Can i touch your hair?” a young woman behind you asked, but she had already reached out her hand before you could even answer. You pulled back before her hand could touch you

“Oh, um no please don’t do that…” you awkwardly said and turned back around. You looked over at Gojo who you know heard everything but was undermining the situation yet again

Gojo: “Calm down she didn’t mean anything by it, go back to sleep.” He dismissed you, not even bothering to open his eyes as he still laid against the window. You let out a low scoff and laid back against your seat instead of Gojos shoulder like you were before

The next few minutes we’re quiet as you dozed back off until you heard a loud camera click and could hear the girl frantically trying to turn the volume down

Y/N: “Did you just take a picture of me?”

“Oh it wasn't a bad one I was just sending your hairstyle to my friend I think it’s cute.”

Y/N: “I don’t care. Don’t take a fucking picture of me if—

“I didn’t even touch you so calm the fuck down…this is why no body likes to compliment you people anyways. You take everything too goddamn seriously.” she muttered the last bit under her breath but still loud enough to pick up. This sentence being the one that finally caught Gojos attention

Gojo: “What was that?” He stood up towering over the young woman

“I-I didn’t say anyth— I’m s-sor—

Gojo: “Shut up. Delete it. Now.” His eyes pierced through her and she scrambled to reopen her camera and delete the photos. She flipped the phone towards his face to show that they were no longer in her folder

Gojo: “Now go to a different seat. And if you touch them against i’ll smash that stupid fucking phone into the fucking concrete.” The young woman ran from her seat to the other side of the train as quickly as possible and Gojo sat back down. He attempted to put his arm around you but you wanted no part in it, for the next 30 minutes you ignored every attempt he made to get a word out of you. Even on the walk home you were cold

Gojo: “Y/N if you don’t tell me what’s wrong I can’t fix it!” he said as you entered your apartment

Y/N: “IVE TOLD YOU WHATS WRONG BEFORE. YOU DONT LISTEN!” you yelled, something he rarely heard you do, “I told you countless times before that people trying to touch me is a reoccurring problem for me and what did you do? You belittled me and made it seem like no big deal. Why did it take someone being blatantly racist towards me for you to actually start caring? Why did I have to prove the problem to you?” He looked back at you with no words just a stunned expression as he struggled to find the right thing to say

Gojo: “I…I don’t know. I’m sorry.” you rolled your eyes at his lackluster reply and turned away to the bedroom

Y/N: “Whatever. I’m going to bed.”

Gojo: “Y/N, wait I—

you slammed the door in his face before he could finish his sentence

story belongs to @nonbinaryeggrolls

do not steal

[pedrithink]

thirst tweets ✩ kylian mbappé

summary: kylian and you sit down to read the thirstiest tweets.

"Hey, I'm Kylian Mbappé and I'm here with my beautiful girlfriend. We are here today with Buzzfeed to read together the thirst tweets made by you." Kylian makes a fake embarrassed expression and you just let out a laugh as you stare at him. "The first one, let's go."

"Y/N and Kylian reading thirst tweets when?" You read and let out a smile as you raise your thumb towards the camera. "Well…here we are…reading the naughtiness you guys write online."

Kylian playfully glare at you. "Imagine getting married waking up in the morning with a man in your bed that ain't Kylian Mbappé. Could never be me."

You bite your lower lip to try to contain a provocative smile and just stare at Kylian. "Well… I can confirm to KylianMyBf7 that it is extremely wonderful to wake up with this man by my side."

Her hands playfully run along his chest and Kylian can only let a loud laugh ring through the set, causing the producers to fall for her provocative banter as well.

"I want to eat Y/N (respectfully of course)." Kylian shakes his head negatively at the camera and you can only laugh at the situation. "My first one was already like that? Wow. Thanks, I guess."

Kylian's eyes slide over the open tweet on the cell phone, a devious smile on his lips as he glances at you, you return his gaze and lean your head on his shoulder for a few seconds.

"I'm sure the best way to eat chocolate is to have it off Kylian Mbappé's abs." Kylian lets out a "Hm…" as he frowns. "Inspiring…"

You look at him with an arched eyebrow and he moves his shoulders as if he doesn't understand people's taste either, you ignore the strangeness with a weak laugh and move on to the next tweet.

"What does Y/N feet look like? It's for a project. Can someone just send me a picture please? It's for a project." You read this laughing with every word, it's crazy how obsessed some people are with feet. You spend a few seconds switching your gaze from the phone to camera. "Hm…" You narrow your eyes. "I'm pretty sure I have a lot of pictures out there of my feet, but on Instagram, if you look it up, but yeah."

You say everything slowly and Kylian laughs along with you, but he puts his arm in front of you as a way to joke. "Hey, only I can get pictures of your foot." He stares at you and runs a hand up your thigh.

A deep groan leaves Kylian's lips after the tweet. "Kylian Mbappé meaty thighs can choke me anyday everyday." He stares at you with a tired look and you already prepare to speak what he is already tired of hearing.

"I tell him that every day." You shake your shoulders as if to say I told you so and he rolls his eyes. "I always ask him to choke me with his delicious thighs and he says no. What good boyfriend denies that to his beautiful girlfriend?"

You make an expression like it's absurd that he denies you this and you know that later the fans will make fun of you for this moment. "Anyway…" You scratch your throat. "I would let Y/N sit on my face."

"Damn, why is she getting the worst ones? I'm starting to get jealous." Kylian says with a pout. "Go ahead, say your answer."

"I just like comfortable chairs, sorry…" You run your hand over Kylian's face as you say this and he lets a victorious smile grow on his face. You laugh, watching as his face squirms in a tease for your answer.

"So…" He doesn't let the smile fade from his face. "With all due respect, I would drag my vulva lips across 130 degree concrete right now for Kylian Mbappé to spit in my mouth." You roll your eyes and Kylian frowns. "Baby, don't do that. You know what?" Kylian looks at you with a questioning look. "I would love to meet them in person and hear them say this in my face."

You agree, looking at the camera, but then you realize something Kylian said. "Hey, why did you call this person baby?" You look with a false expression of betrayal while pointing an accusing finger in his direction.

"Baby, I'm sorry." Kylian rolls his eyes playfully and holds up both your hands in an attempt to turn your gaze to him. "Can someone lend me a white shirt?" The staffs, and even you, are confused. "For the apology video."

Not only did you burst into a fit of laughter, but even the crew present inside the studio as well, finding Kylian's humor funny. He used the joke that all the famous people's apologies, they are wearing white shirt.

"Shut up." You can't let your laughter die and read the next tweet amidst interspersed laughter. "I need Y/N to crush my balls." A heavy breath leaves your lips and Kylian makes a grimace of pain. "I don't think that's nice for me to do," you pause and face the camera. "But also that's gonna hurt a lot."

"But I think that's the only thing I'd let you do, out of all the things that have been listed so far." Kylian snorts and nods briefly while facing the camera.

"You heard him." You point your finger in Kylian's direction. "If you're down, just hit me up. I'll crush your balls." Your suggestive look makes Kylian hold back a laugh.

"Wow, that's a big one." Kylian takes a playful deep breath and fakes an expression of fatigue. "Kylian Mbappé, I'm bowing down on my knees right now. Let me wash your feet king. Let me scrub and lick between your toes. Polish those feet until they shine like diamonds. Scrape the dry skin flakes off and use them as seasoning. Just a taste please."

You shake your head, making a sign of disapproval in your seat. "Hey, babygirl. Calm down. I'm the only one that can lick these toes."

Clearing his throat, Kylian's eyes widen as if he can't believe what you just said, eyes skimming over the next question.

"I would lose a limb and bleach my eyeballs to have sex with Y/N." Kylian reads the tweet about you and bites his lower lip a little hard to contain his jealousy. "You can do all that, little man. But sex with this woman here will never happen."

Kylian points at you with his thumb and the small smirk dancing on his lips gave you an idea that he is a little bit jealous.

"No comment on that one." You stare at the camera until Kylian shakes his shoulders and starts reading his.

"Kylian Mbappé Sir, I'm just a hole for you." Kylian sighs and shakes his head and when you whisper a low "Me too" while shaking your head he can only let out a low laugh.

You nudge his waist and pick up the phone so you can read the next one. "I would suck Y/N's butt plug like a pacifier." You stop for a moment and can't hide your expression. "I, no. I don't know what to say."

Kylian taps your shoulder as if to say "I understand you" and you shriek with a small laugh. "People are so crazy nowadays." He shakes his head negatively and starts reading another tweet. "Kylian Mbappé is the type to destroy your vagina in the most romantic way, bye."

"He really destroys mine, but it's not very romantic." You widen your eyes and Kylian just pushes your shoulder lightly while covering your mouth to keep you from talking anymore.

"She doesn't know when to stop talking."

You jokingly roll your eyes at him. "At least 3 times a week me and my boyfriend talk about wanting to have a threesome with Y/N." You open your mouth feigning astonishment. "Do I look like a third to you?"

Kylian turns to you and with a provocative smile wraps a hand on the foot of your chair, pulling you towards him. "You are the only one for me."

You leave a kiss on his mouth and turn to the camera waving, Kylian follows you and does the same. "That's it. Thanks for having us BuzzFeed."

[xsapphirescrollsx]

The Patron

Written: Aug 11 2020

Paring: dark!Captain Syverson x Black Female Reader Summary: You work at a library and meet a seemingly friendly patron. >:) Warnings: 18+, smut, stalking, intimidation, assault, non-consensual sex. Proceed with caution. A/N: My bff @titty-teetee requested a Dark! Captain Syverson story! I hope you like it wifey! <33 Also I gave him a first name but it’s only referenced once in the story.

A bright sunny fall day gusted cold wind at your feet and blew leaves around you on your walk back into the city library. Opposite to the tone beyond the glass doors the smell of paper and scribbles welcomed you back into the fold. With your lunch break over, you returned back behind the counter, took off your coat and hung it on the hook. And then, refreshed, you continued finishing the update for the catalog of fairy tales.

You intended to wrap up the project in the next few hours. All that was left was sorting the cards back under the topic at hand. In a room off from the greeting counter you stood behind clear windows. Behind a desk with stacks of already organized cards you began to sort them by year. It was quiet work, but enjoyable as it offered the chance to zone out on a monotonous task. 

You weren’t at it long before the interruption. Looking up passed the front greeting area a man stood. He was in conversation with Thomas the library technician. Your eyes focused on the man’s face, handsome but woolly with a thick dark beard and a head of wind blown hair that was loosely curly. While relaxed as he spoke with Thomas he kept his hands in his pockets as he casually glanced around until his eyes landed on you through the glass.

His smile stayed as your eyes met his, you kindly smiled back before returning to your work. Of course, it wasn’t long after that moment that Thomas was already behind the counter and approaching your work room.

“Patron here doesn’t seem to know how a library works,” he whispered. And you glanced back behind him, the man's eyes were locked on the two of you. 

“Anyway, he needs resources on ponds,- I have a lot of software and media to unload. Do you mind?”

“You’re lucky I’m nearly done.” 

Thomas’ grimace cracked into a grateful smile and stepped aside to let you pass. Walking through the door you were met with a bright eyed closed mouth grin from the man as he followed your path from the room. Coming around the side of the counter his hands emerged from his pockets as he spoke with his hands.

He wrinkled his fingers into one another humbly and leaned over toward you. “I’m lost,” He said gently.

He was tall, though not a giant, but his shoulders and frame definitely took up your point of view. 

“How may I help you?”

His hands returned to his pockets deflating the thick wind jacket a bit. “Ponds, I need a few books on the construction, let’s start there.”

You smiled with understanding and without even having to look it up you remembered an author with a series of books. You gestured for the man to follow and he did so, quite closely. 

“I bet you’ve worked here for a while.” he said softly. He was next to you, or as near as possible as you wound around tables towards the back shelves. 

“Oh, I’ve been here for about five years now.”

He tsked his teeth and sucked in hard. “Wow, who knew such a small town would have had an opening.”

His presence was intimidating, to say the least. It was a nagging feeling. He stayed behind you, his presences invading your space. And with the rows of books as a backdrop to him it was hard to forget you had a way out at the other end of the towering shelves. 

“Exactly, I’m lucky to be here.”

He smacked his lips, “Well I’m glad you’re here.”

It was an odd comment, especially for the location. The consideration that perhaps he was hitting on you in an awkward manner didn’t elude you. 

You stopped in front of the shelves, on your tiptoes you reached for the last ascending shelf. But he was there, his arms longer, fingers that could grab further pulled the book out. 

“This one?” he asked. And once again there were only inches in between you and him. “Everything You Need To Know About Ponds?” he said with cheer.

You were looking at the cover of the book but from your peripheral it was completely apparent he was staring. It would have been a normal interaction but the heat rising from your neck to your face left you flustered in his presence.

He leaned in, smelling like a manly soap of some kind and whispered. “Does it really know everything?” in a hushed amusement.

You looked up and his blue eyes were staring back at you, they were icy except for one that had a brown freckle within it. You couldn’t remember the last time a man was this close to you that wasn’t employed here. Far too long, and far too uncomfortable you took a half step back. 

“Well, there are others up there. Grab a couple with varying topics, it will give you a more broad understanding. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

The man smiled and leaned back while still watching you. “If I think of something, you’ll be the first to know.”

With that you nodded and walked back to your station. Though you were not there long until the man was once again approaching the counter. No one else was there but you to help him borrow the book so you did so. Accessing the computer you pulled up the registry. 

“Card please?” you asked.

He pulled out his wallet and handed it to you. Still with a pleasant expression he stared at you as you continued the process of loaning the book out. 

“Sloan Syverson, correct?”

He nodded. “My friends call me Sy, though. That means you too.” 

You glanced from the computer to his face. Confirming his tone was just as you suspected from earlier though he was no longer smiling, but his eyes were staring at you with something unspoken. 

“Go on, say it.” he encouraged you sweetly.

Instead of saying no, you smiled uneasily. “Sy?”

He suddenly burst with a trustworthy smile, “There you go.” 

You continued to process his order and was grateful for the screen instead of looking him directly in the eyes. 

But what disturbed you the most was what he said next. His voice was still friendly, overly so to the point you looked back to him. 

“I want to take you back to my house.” You were shocked, but still in the motion of handing him back his card.

“I want to lick at what’s between your legs.”

“Can you be a good girl?” he paused, watching your eyes growing wider. “I bet you will once I’m through with you.”

The man named Sy slid his card back in his wallet. He looked back at you with a soft smile across his lips, he winked too. And then he picked up his books and began to walk toward the doors leaving you still watching his back as he walked out.

Nothing much happened after the day Sy left. Much to your irritation the head librarian didn’t see him as much of a concern.

“We get all kinds in here. Part of the job.”

Bullshit. You had been here for five years and never once until two weeks ago had you ever encountered a patron such as Sy. Even so, you pushed the moment to the back of your head and pulled through work in a haze of lukewarm worry. He would be back.

And right on time, there he was walking across the space of the library to the section you had shown him. Unfortunately it was near where you were too. Fighting against the policies of the library you had to acknowledge him but didn’t want to. So it came out as a half-hearted crooked grin toward him. 

You began to look busier by stacking more books in your arms. Slinking back toward the next aisle he suddenly said quietly. “I think I know where to go now.” You looked at him as he passed the end of the row you were about to disappear into and he winked. 

You knew there was no one else other than archiving staff in the building. It was your turn this morning anyway to be in charge of borrows and returns. The pep talk ensued as you began to quickly shelve the books. Check him out fast, don’t make eye contact, interact with passable kindness.

The string of worry was seemingly endless, winding its way up your spine, curling around your stomach and chilling your bones. He was handsome, appeared decent but when he opened his mouth something other wholly dangerous was presented. You couldn’t shake the feeling, even now with a counter between you and him. An overwhelming sensation that you had to go and get away drove up your worry now into anxiety pointing at one single fact. You were not safe.

When you grabbed for his card, tight muscles caused the slick piece of plastic to fumbled to the counter. “Easy there, precious.”

You heard him clearly, but even so his voice was a blurry stain in the back of your head to the urge to hurriedly get him out of your space. 

Entering his information faster than you had ever done so before you crossed the card back to him. And you become eerily concerned when you narrowly escape his fingers grazing over yours.

“No need to be nervous. I’ll be gentle.”

The only comment was no comment to his flirtations. Stiff and noticeably uncomfortable at his bright smiling face, you refused to look at him directly and simply nodded when you completed the transaction. One step further from giving him nothing more you turned away from the counter with “Have a nice day.”

And you did not turn back around until you were sure he was gone. Finally, taking a whole and entire deep breath you braced against the counter and stared around the library. 

You had to be going crazy, right? 

This had gone too far. First, a week ago at the store you saw him there. Maybe he had always gone to this store, at that particular time. Of course it was one of two grocery stores in town but now, you knew what he looked like and definitely noticed him. And then, a few days from that, at the general store where you shopped for cheap household goods, he was there. Clearly he had entered after you because his cart was empty. He wasn’t staring at you but there was a distinct feeling of chase. And yesterday, after work about 5:30 a big blue truck was the only other vehicle in the lot other than yours. As you drove by it by the only exit it wasn’t hard to catch the silhouette of his hair and big shoulders. 

But this, your coffee shop, your favorite out of the way drinking hole was invaded. Now you knew he was following you. This was your main spot, you always came here for lunch, had an iced coffee and caught up with your messages. 

You sat in your regular corner with your back to the wall, front facing the door and wide widows to give you a complete picture. Sy stepped in while running a hand through thick black curly hair. It then rubbed over his bushy beard as he stepped up to the counter to order. 

Why was he here? Here??

Your hand down by your thigh immediately tightened around your jeans. Flexing with unreleased worry you glanced back down at your phone when he started to turn in your direction. Quickly you gathered up your things and stood up. 

Walking far away from him as you could, you strode toward the shop's door. “It was nice to see you again,” he called from behind you. 

Gripping the handle hard, and on impulse from your years of retail service you turned to him. He was smiling again in that sweet, pleasant way that did little for his unemotional eyes. Confirming your fears, absolutely telling you without a doubt he knew who you were and why he was there, you pushed on the door. You said nothing back and walked out of the shop. 

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

You hung up the phone and dipped your head into your hand. You weren’t crying but close to it as you tossed the phone back into your purse. 

Calling the police was the correct reaction. But now you doubted the path to how you came to it after the officer told you there was little that could be done. He wasn’t technically breaking any laws. “There’s no law against being in the same place as you,” they had said.

But it was so much more than that and you knew it. 

The day at work passed in a blur of books, in-take, and piles of cards and with it you prayed every time the front doors opened that it wasn’t him. Even when you walked across the lot that evening your car was the only one today. Maybe you were seeing things. Or better yet, maybe he had given up.

A short, uneventful dinner of packaged quick noodles settled your stomach enough to lay down after your shower. Your comforter of baby blue fading into sunset orange like a crisp fall evening invited you to climb in. And when your eyes closed and rolled to the back of your head sleep did not come. Turning in bed something papery hit your left hand. 

You pulled it out and with the light from the pale light of the street lamp you held it up above your head. Something was written on with big bold letters. Sitting up, with your eyes directly on it you read the note.

I love you. Precious one, you smell so good too. Look up baby, your man is here.  

The paper began to vibrate between your fingers. Hands trembling, a worried tickle popping up along your spine connected the dots. Something moved across your bed room and you cursed yourself for always sleeping in such a dark house. You were in the only light of the room while the closet at the other end of the room was in complete darkness. But there was more, a figure blacker than the shadow was moving, growing bigger as it came forward.

This was a dream, your mind yelled. Wide eyed you sat there, shallow breaths fell from your lips until finally a naked man came into view. Tears poured then as he came fully into the light. Sy stood at the end of your bed, shadows cut across his muscular body and face. Though there were dark rings where his eyes should have been the corners were pinched as he began to smile.

You scrambled across the bed but not fast enough. As soon as you got to your knees you were thrown back to the bed. He was all over you holding you down with a strength you had never known. Besides his power, he was heavy as he pressed his chest against yours and rested his hips between your legs.

“Come’on girl-” Sy began but you tried to kick, started to scream but he shut your mouth. “Now, now baby. Listen..I’m not leaving anytime soon. Okay?” You mumbled and then yelled again through his fingers. “Shhh..all that ain’t going to help none.”

“You have to let me go..” you blubbered past his fingers.

He chuckled, “That’s not gunna work. I’ve been watching you for months. We’re so perfect for each other. You can’t cook to save your life, but I can, baby. You don’t even go out, have friends..well I’ve never had really close people either. You’re alone and so am I. Now we have each other.”

His smile dropped at the same time his hand slid from your lips. Enveloping you within the incredible heat of his body he wrapped his hand around your throat. He licked his lips, and then kissed you lightly. “I even have a home for us. Took out most of my savings but it’s yours..I’m yours.”

He kissed you again and didn't stop there.

He suddenly shifted to the edge of the bed and pulled out a bundle of thin rope. You wrestled with him, but not for long. Easily he snatched your wrists together and then attached the rope to your intricate wooden headboard. How he touches you next was like your body was fragile ground or had finally achieved some great feat. Grazing with his finger tips from your throat and over your tee-shirt Sy bundled it in his hands and ripped it open over your breasts. 

You used the headboard, and your weight tied to it as leverage enough to bring your body up and kick at his ribs. He hunched over in pain, but only for a second. And when he returned Sy grabbed you by the throat again and smacked you hard across the face. Blinding white coated your vision.

“Baby, I’m sorry about that..- but you’re really gunna wanna hold still if you want to feel good.”

Shaking now until skin is tight and muscles rigid you can't collect your thoughts. Your momentary lapse is his success, Sy’s hands stay flush against your naked body as he descends to your underwear. Within an instant he has them off, his big arms pressing down on your inner thighs as he buries his face between your folds. 

With disgusting accuracy he rolled his tongue around the nub of your clit. Staying there, sucking and licking at it as if he had always done so. You turn your face away, an escape maybe, but you hoped it expressed that you didn’t want this. When his tongue entered you though, you jerked and he continued to taste you anyway.

He brought himself back up after, didn’t bother to wipe his face as he kissed you again. The air pushes out of you as he falls to his elbows and slips into you. Heavy breaths waft over your face, his huffing grows harder the faster he pumped. His large hands hold you down more above your armpit tightly, rocking into you, pinning you down and there was no escaping Sy. 

He slides into you over and over easily, spreading you, taking you. “I won’t leave you,” Sy keeps pumping, his beard scraps over your chin and jaw. He kisses the apple of your cheek. Then opens his mouth, licks there greedily tasting your tears, and then bites gently. Holding your skin between his teeth he thrusts into you.

He says your name in such a delicate manner that it has you turning your eyes to his face. He said it again, this time dragging out of his throat and you feel him hardening more inside of you.  

He stared at you dead in the eyes as he whispered a promise. “You are mine now,” He purred your name again. Pumping long and deep like he was making love to a long lost soulmate. He pecked your cheek in a trail down to your mouth. “I’ll love you forever…”

“And I won’t leave you..” 

The next morning you awoke to the smell of stale skin. Bruised wrists were now free, your mind begged your body to get up from the bed. Naked from the waist down, with the rags of your tee-shirt clinging to your arms you looked around. Sy wasn’t there, the bedroom door was open and you didn’t dare think to leave that way. 

Refocusing on the familiar surrounding, naturally you gazed at the window. Your whole home was on the ground floor. With horror, wrestling from somewhere in the kitchen got you up fast from the bed. You ran to the corner of the room, slid open the window and pushed out the screen. 

“Where’re you going baby?” 

His voice is the catalyst, scratching at the base of the window, throwing your body through it and hitting the ground with a scream. It doesn’t stop even when you run through the yard, to the next yard across the street, to the door of your neighbor. 

The next five hours carry through you. A smudge of memories really, talking with the police, going to the hospital to finally return to your home. Walking into the bedroom. Mechanically going about changing the bedding like nothing ever happened. But your eyes caught the threads of the rope snagged in the creases of your headboard. You finger them barely feeling anything. 

But that wasn’t true. Hunched over on your bed you stared at the strands. Memories too hard to fight back devastated your resolve. Fat tears rained, the hard wall blocking your emotions crumbled as you dropped to the bed.

This day marks the first of many days of heartbreak.

7 months later

Two years in prison wasn’t near enough. You knew that, the police knew that. And yet through a judicial technicality he eluded most of it. The person you were before Sy was slowly returning, though different still because who are we if nothing but a collection of past events. You hadn’t expected this though. 

You had settled for what life had for you now. The events belonged to you, it was your story after all, that continued to unfold since meeting Sy. He could fuck right off. 

Delicately, you stroked your big belly soothing the kicking within. You half wondered if it could feel your fear like it could hear your heartbeat. Staring at your house from the drive way you decided to continue that mind set of stanch balance at any positive moment you could get. 

You process what it means to have him back out in the world while you put away groceries. Cans in the pantry, spices in the rack and all you can think about is the moment he returned. 

Because he would. 

Carrying vegetables to the sink for washing your eyes catches an object on the counter. For a few seconds you wonder if this is the moment. Because on the surface a knife sat there that you couldn’t remember putting there. By God, you know pregnancy has brought on terrible side effects including memory blips. But this, it was the longest you had and it was sitting with the handle pointed out to the room. 

“That’s my baby isn’t it?”

You jerked so hard at the voice you dropped the bunch into the sink and gripped it like the house itself shook. With tension in your back so tight it should have broken it, you turned around slowly. It hits you hard that you were right, he would have never left you be.

Disbelieving your eyes you can only manage a simple shake of your head. Sy stepped into the kitchen with heavy booted footfalls. A sob shook from your chest, even though you had sworn to yourself he would never see your emotions again. 

“Precious girl, I’ve missed you so much.” Sy kept walking, your heart threatened to stop.

He was staring at you with that familiar kind face, and sincere eyes from when you had first met him. As if he were seeing a buddy after so much time had passed and he smiled genuinely despite your terror.

In front of you now with his powerfully built frame blocking your escape he whittled at the rim of his cap with his fingers and thumbs. 

“Why’d you have to go and do that? We love each other..I love you.”

If there was ever a moment to react it was now. You blinked quickly and cleared your throat before you spoke. “I don’t know who you are.” you said with your voice twisting out of your throat.

He tossed his cap on top of the knife behind your left side. He leaned in putting one hand on each side of you. He tilted his head, blue eyes roaming over your face with a quizzical expression. 

“Sure you do…” You flinched when his hand left the counter, he dipped down past your belly and shoved his hand under the hem of your dress. You stiffened immediately even though he easily slid his hand up to the fabric of your underwear. 

He bit his lip, glanced down to where he was rubbing his fingertips over your mound. “I’ve been here--you whined like a little puppy when I stuck it in.”

He doesn’t stop even though now his eyes are drifting to the countertops and floor. “You’ve changed shit around.” 

His eyes fall back to yours, kindly with the love he professes. “Threw some out too but you kept this didn’t you?” Sy’s hand leaves your warmth, travels up underneath your dress to your protruding stomach and spreads his fingers wide over it. 

“I told you...I promised I wouldn’t leave you.”

Shivering entirely from the inside out, your voice came out in a whisper. “It’s my baby..”

“Oh come on now sweetheart..we made that together. We’re as good as married…”

The situation spiraled as his hands, both now, were under your dress kneaded your plump breasts. His eyes darken, it was the first time you had ever seen them do this. You slap at his face, hard and move to the left toward the knife. He picks up fast at just what you have planned. Snatching up your wrists before you could even touch it he turned you around forced you face down. 

Sy was inside of you before there was time to know what he was going to do. You reached for the knife again only for him to grab it and throw further down the counter. 

Worst nightmare come true, you are back to where you started with the kind patron. Sobs unfold from your lips. 

“It’s okay, precious…” He tangles your hair in his hand, wretches your neck back, your body too closer to his chest. He bends you back, belly heaving back and forth as he forces his way in repeatedly. “I’m here now..”

You brace against the sink as his hand finds its way back under your dress. He presses it against your stomach, holding you by the hair, pulling you back and gripping your stomach he fucked you hard and fast. 

Grunting, his whispers come out ground and rough around his teeth. “I’m yours baby,” He hastily moaned as soon as you went to move away, but it doesn’t help you. It only benefits him by freeing up more space so he could penetrate further. 

“Tried to put me-- away didn’t you...bi--bitch,” 

Sy’s voice growled and rolled into a drawn-out curse. His hands shoved at you until he had your hips at his mercy. At your forced submission you can feel the muscles in his thighs at yours slapping and sweating. Your sobs rattled with the vicious rhythm. 

“I told you..--wasn’t going.”

To the hilt, Sy drove in with an anguished hiss and went still.“Fuck, sweetheart.”

He slipped from you as he pulled at your shoulders forcing you to turn back around toward him. Both breathing hard, he held your head in his hands. Frightful goosebumps ignite where he touches you, breaths on you. “I love you..I do.” 

He pried your head up to him and kissed you. Scratching his beard over your lips and chin he sticks his tongue in too hoping you would respond. When you don’t he continues to squeeze your head prompting you to stiffly reciprocate the kiss. 

“You’re coming with me.” he says between his tender pecking. “I’ll help you pack.”

He presses his forehead to yours. “I can’t wait to start our life together honey. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Part 2 can be found on Archive of Our Own!

[violet-ophelia-boss]

This is for the: "hermit secret Santa"! gift for: @renp0d

(sorry for the mistakes in this fic)

On the hermitcraft server, there was a calm sound of the cold winter wind and the various machines they had made. Mumbo woke up and looked at his window: the snow was everywhere, not in a bad way of course, and so he knew Christmas was getting closer and closer. He checked his mail: various lawsuits as usual, tax fraud, neck kisses from his neighbors… and a letter with attached a big box. It was from Ren. It said: “Hello, my fellow friend! I heard you needed these redstone materials for one of your shops and some future projects. So here ya go mate! Hope you choose them wisely. When you use them, think of me also :]. -Ren the diggity dog”.

When mumbo opened happily the box, he saw 2 stacks of redstone dust, 30 redstone blocks, 10 redstone comparators and a stack of redstone torches. The guy was shocked. How did he make so many? Did he farm them or do them by hand? Mumbo then happily took the materials and secured them in a chest, then going straight to grian’s base. “GRIAN, GRIAN, GUESS WHAT?” shouts happily while shaking the other, which was reading a book while sitting on his chair. “I know mumbo, I know. You got redstone stuff from Ren. You messaged me 2 seconds ago about it. He gave me some materials so I can ‘finish the back of my building’ as well" says grian, tired. His friend giggled a bit, making him laugh it off the situation. “We should give him a gift, just like he did with us, I think” says mumbo to the other, who was closing his book and position it on the table. Then he put his hands on the other’s shoulders, looking at him in the eyes and asked “are you freaking saying that we should give him a Christmas present?”. “Yeah, why shouldn’t we after all?” responded mumbo, fixing his mustache. “Fine. But we both don’t have anything good that we could give him.” Accepted grian, looking around his chests. “Guess we have to search” says mumbo, already preparing his elytra and fireworks in hand. Then they both started flying, going where no one built something or took materials from. !Then they both landed, they immediately started brainstorming something good to give him, something rare, that he would be excited for.

“xp bottles?”, “that’s lame as fu-”. “An Elytra?”, “He has at least six of them mumbo!”. “An orange sheep?”, “He can literally steal one from Xisuma…”. “Diamonds?”, “mumbo, it’s like we’re giving him money to buy stuff. He needs something better!”. After a lot of arguing later, they both found something he’d like: custom discs, some which he can personalize and normal discs, which he can enjoy. Now there’s a problem: how can they have these disks, especially the custom ones? “A skeleton and creeper farm” says mumbo. “You sure?” asks grian. “Yes, now let’s get to work!”. They did a structure made out of many layers if stone and a lot of hope the creepers won’t blow up in their face, with a stone roof so they can break the spawner and take the discs without being hurt too much. After a lot of hope and time, the plan got just as planned. They took the disks, which were 12, with 4 that were a copy of another. They will be the ones who are going to be blank. “Mumbo, you know how to do that right… RIGHT?”. Mumbo was shaking, thinking what they should do. Eventually, Xisuma helped them, without asking why the heck they need that feature. So, after nearly blowing up a disc, many and many deaths by mumbo and moments of insanity later, they did it. They re- named the 4 discs, and put all of them into a shulker box, waiting for Ren to wake up.

Eventually, on the 22nd of that snowy December, he woke up. Then he saw grian and mumbo at his doorstep, saying “happy Christmas, Ren!”. “Aww thank you guys, you didn’t’ have to…” says Ren, blushing for the embarassment.” Wow! Music discs! With customed ones. Thanks guys! You could’ve just gave me flowers, but thanks!” says Ren, hugging the other two. Afterwards, grian and mumbo got to Big Ron’s shop and started contemplating the wall, cursing their idea of giving Ren something that good, still thinking about what he said.

Hope you enjoyed the fic :D

[ronwestbreeze]

TO YOU , WORLDS AWAY : PART TWO : CHAPTER NINETEEN

pairing: jake sully x fem!reader

summary: your new life on pandora

word: count: 3.4k

author's note: get ready for a whole lot of domestic chapters of the sully family hehe &lt;3

AO3 | prev| next

Year 2160

“Doc!” Spider grinned happily when he spotted you.

The lab Norm and Max had set up was spacious enough for you to enter. And it was a little strange being the tallest one in the room for the first time. Though you were never really that short in your former body, it was still a startling contrast.

Spider ran up to you, awing at your new body, “Wow, you’re so tall!”

You grinned, kneeling down in front of him. Ruffling his hair, “And you’re so tiny, little Parrot.”

His little arms wrapped around your neck in a tiny hug, “I’m glad you’re okay. Mom says you weren’t feeling well and that I couldn’t see you.” When you pulled away slightly, he had a little pout on his lips, “I thought you left for good.”

Sometimes you forget how young the boy was. Had to be around Kiri’s age, maybe a little older. Still he was too young to truly understand what had happened and you were sure that Mary would prefer you not go into heavy detail. And you really didn’t want to burden him with it either.

“I was a little sick and it was very contagious.” You say instead, cupping his small face in your larger hands. “I didn’t want you to catch what I had. Now I’m better.”

Spider nodded like he understood, his wide eyes still taking in your face. “Now you’re one of them! When can I be like them?”

Norm entered the lab the same time Spider asked that and chuckled loudly, “Too little, kiddo. Gotta wait until you’re older.”

“So I have to be old?” Spider pouted. “Like you?”

You snorted while Norm rolled his eyes, “Keep up with the attitude and you won’t get one til’ your thirty!”

Spider stuck his tongue out at him as you laughed, placing the boy on your shoulders before following Norm to one of the computers. In some places you had to duck your head extra low, just so the boy’s head wouldn’t get caught by the ceiling.

When Norm brought up some images, swiping by to get to what he wanted, you spotted one of Hell’s Gate. Well, a blueprint of it at least. It looked different from the other one—the one you saw years ago while snooping through their computers after you first arrived on the planet. You had to have been sixteen or seventeen at the time when you saw the old blueprint outlines of Hell’s Gate.

Norm noticed your where your gaze settled and sighed, “Ever since the last one was destroyed—which I have to say was pretty fucking ballsey of you—those of us that stayed behind after the RDA left worked on rebuilding what was left. Keeping at least a few of the places alive and working so that we could live here comfortably.”

“You seemed to have made some progress.” You hummed, feeling Spider resting his arms and chin on top of your head.

Norm shrugged, “It's amazing how much time can go by when you’re hyper focused on this.” He waved his hand at the blueprint flippantly. “It’s not the same Hell’s Gate—don’t think we or the Na’vi would want it that way anyway—but it’s enough, ya know?” He then tilted his head, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “Though, you could’ve left a little more than scraps for us to work off of.”

“My bad.” You shrugged, both of you grinning.

Norm then pulled up a few schematics and other blueprints, this time of smaller projects. “Alrighty, what do you think, Doc?”

You spent the past twenty minutes giving your opinion on some of the projects. Then again, that was the whole reason as to why he asked you here in the first place. To get an engineer’s opinion on work. Like the good ol’ days. The only good days, really, besides Grace’s School. You liked being useful. Back when you first arrived at Pandora, you were trying everything you could to make yourself useful for the team. That was when you joined Grace in helping out with the school.

And when that had come to an unfortunate end, you buried yourself in studies, passing all your exams to become a prodigy engineer and a biologist in training.

Now, as a practically newborn Na’vi that was now starting your way as one of The People, you had to find new ways in this culture, in this clan, to be useful.

Max then arrived, standing awkwardly in the doorway, “Um, one of the warriors is here for you, Doc.”

You cringed when you realized the time, “Crap—I mean darn!” You placed Spider down as he stared up at you in confusion. “I forgot the time—you got it from here, Norm?”

He nodded, “Yeah, thanks for your help. You still got it, Doc.”

“Of course, I do.” You stood, adjusting the loincloth. “I may be in a different body but I’m still the best damn engineer on the planet.”

“Can I come with you?” Spider asked, following you as you walked toward the lab entrance. Even through the window you could see a warrior, standing further away and looking quite impatient.

You gave him a small smile, “Not this time, little Parrott. I got to start my training and I don’t know if they’d take too kindly to bringing you along on my first day.” Spider pouted and you ruffled his hair again, noticing bits of it were locking up. “Maybe next time, okay?”

“Okay.” He nodded, not hiding his disappointment.

When you got outside, the warrior’s eyes narrowed on you as you cautiously approached him. “You are late.”

“Only by a couple of minutes.” You weakly protest.

He huffed, adjusting his grip on his spear, “Come. We have much to do. We’ve already wasted enough time.”

Without waiting for a response, he leaped up onto a tree and began climbing. When he saw that you weren’t right behind him, he scowled down at you. “Skxawng! Climb!”

Rolling your eyes, you began climbing up after him. Like last time, you weren’t as fast compared to Neytiri. And it was the same with this nameless warrior. The only difference this time was that he didn’t have any particular patience for your slowness.

“Faster!” He ordered from his spot on a branch. Once you got up to the branch he was on, he glared, “If you plan to fight like one of us, you must learn to navigate this forest. It is your home now, you must know your own way without someone having to tell you.”

“Alright, I get it.” You mumbled. And really, you did. You had no energy to complain or protest against the attitude he was giving you. All you could do was follow him and learn. That’s all you could really offer at this point. “At least tell me your name.” You started as he started jumping from leaf to leaf. Wobbly but steadily, you followed after him. “You probably already know my name so don’t you think it’s fair?”

“Ezì.” He muttered, pointing his spear ahead. “Follow and watch.”

Carefully, you followed his instructions. Ezì moved elegantly and swiftly through the trees. Barely making a sound. You tried to mimic him, it wasn’t perfect but it was the best you could do. Ezì didn’t complain so it seemed like you were doing something right.

The both of you continued going like this, not stopping once. You figured if you asked for a break he’d probably snap your head off, so you refrained from doing so. At some point, you even managed to pass a Thanator without it noticing your presence. From the high ground, the creature looked a lot less intimidating.

Ezì watched your expression as you stared at it, “You’ve seen them before?”

After a few seconds, you realized he was speaking to you and nodded quickly, “Yeah, um, yeah I read about them and nearly got sniffed out by one a few days back.”

Ezì had a thoughtful expression, “You escaped one? You? Without having to kill it?”

“Yeah?”

“And you learned how by reading your….” He made a flippant gesture, “books?” You rolled your eyes, tail swaying behind you. “That is not how we will be doing things. You do not learn to be a warrior by reading. You learn by action.”

A sudden thrust from behind threw you off the branch. A yelp left your lips as you fell through a bunch of large leaves until you got to the ground, where the Thanator was.

You glared up, “Are you fucking kidding me, man?!”

From above, Ezì gave a smug grin as he squatted from his spot above, “You’ve escaped one before. Show me that you’re a warrior!” The Thanator’s eyes were already locked onto you, growling. “Show me you are worth my time and not another dreamwalker skxawng!”

You would’ve scowled at him, cussed him out, but the Thanator did not wait for you. When it pounced, you dashed away.

In your former body, you wouldn’t have been able to move as quickly as you were. Haphazardly jumping onto trees and plants, avoiding the Thanator’s claws and attempts at pouncing. Still, it didn't mean you were a pro at it, at least not as good as Neytiri or Ezì. But it was enough. Enough to keep you alive.

You just needed a way to lose it. Since your oh so generous teacher didn’t give you a weapon to defend yourself, losing it was the only option. As you kept going, you chanced a glance at the Thanator, finding it still on your tail and nearly grabbing it. You had to think fast.

Ahead of you was a vine hanging low from a taller tree. You jumped up and grabbed onto it, the Thanator missing you by inches at another attempt at pouncing toward you. Using what little upper body strength you had, you climbed up the vine as fast as you could, with the Thanator still growling at you from below.

One thing you knew for sure, well as for as your intellect on the subject went, they weren’t climbers. God you hoped they weren’t.

But of course, things couldn’t be easy for you.

When you got to a branch that was higher up than the one you had been on with Ezì, you spotted the Thanator making its way toward you by pouncing from tree to tree. And it was moving pretty fast too.

Damn those creatures!

Again, you leaped onto a nearby leaf, sliding down to another until you reached another branch. You looked up, stopping. The Thanator was nowhere in sight. And it was far too quiet.

For a moment, you wondered if Ezì was nearby, watching you with an annoying smug expression on his face. You thought about calling to him, but you weren’t going to be that reckless. That stupid.

This scenario, this training method, chillingly reminded you of your time training with Quaritch. He had taken it upon himself to teach you to fight when your father couldn’t. And you had asked him to, you were determined to be strong like him and your father. That part of you was long gone. But at least you learned one thing from him.

Always be aware of your surroundings.

Your ears twitched, your hands searched the ground beneath you until you found a long thick stick that if upon further inspection you’d see it used to be a smaller branch. But it was enough.

Leaves shuffling behind you gave you the go ahead turn around and swing as hard as you could.

And your swing had connected with something solid. The black blur of the Thanator toppled off from the hit and fell through the big leaves. You waited and waited until you heard a thud from below.

After waiting a few more seconds, you finally climbed down. Albeit clumsy, you managed to make it down without slipping or injuring yourself.

Ezì was already there, kneeling down next to the limb Thanator. He was mumbling something, words you could barely hear before he stabbed the creature with his spear. The creature went still after a few seconds and then Ezì stood to face you with an unreadable expression.

You tried not to think about the fact Quaritch would do the same thing. Examine you from head to toe, calculating without you knowing it until his words come. That’s what Ezì did with you. Out of habit, you waited for judgment.

Ezì finally spoke, “You’re quick on your feet. That could be useful.” He circled you, poked at the arm that held the branch. “Perhaps you’d do well with a spear…mmm, yes. A bow would slow you down…”

“Could’ve used one by the way.” You commented with a huff, dropping the branch to the ground. “The thing could’ve killed me.”

“But it didn’t.” Ezì smirked. “You are like Olo’eyktan. Adaptable. But a faster learner than he was.” You tried not to seem impressed by those words. You’d tease Jake about it later. “But you have a long way to go, tsmuke. Are you prepared for that?”

You shrugged, a determined look set on your face, “I wouldn't be here if I wasn’t.”

“That’s right.” Ezì smirked. “You wouldn’t be. Come. The sun is still high. We have much more to do.”

And you spent the entirety of the day scouring the forest with Ezì. He taught you all about the forest through minced words and a lot more action. Let’s just say, he liked putting you in dangerous situations. Though, he says it’s so you could adapt quicker and always be prepared to act without having to think about it.

Before dinner had arrived, you had spent the last of your day learning how to bond with a direhorse. For the first few hours you had failed but you were so determined to get it right, that you spent nearly half the entire day on it, despite Ezì telling you it didn’t have to be mastered in one day.

But eventually, you were able to stay on and bond with your new direhorse. Ezì, both impressed and reluctant, made you ride around to test if the bond was actually made. And you did. And it was amazing, almost relieving as you galloped through the forest with Ezì right next to you. This time he allowed himself to be impressed.

“Well done, tsmuke!” He grinned at you. “Well done!”

A smile broke out onto your face. Because you realized right then, what you felt was nothing close to your former training. It didn’t feel as gratifying as this. As proud. You always felt like you had to keep earning something, even if you were making progress. You still do, deep down, you knew that taming a direhorse wasn’t enough to be one of The People. You knew you had a lot more to do, a long way to go.

But it was looking pretty alright.

You came to dinner that night on your direhorse, surprising both Jake and Neytiri. But the kids' eyes widened in excitement.

“Horsy!” Kiri giggled excitedly as she ran toward you.

“Kiri.” Neytiri scolded but her face didn’t match the sternness she tried to muster. She followed after the child while looking up at you impressively, “Ezì is teaching you well then.”

You grinned as you picked up Kiri and sat her down in front of you on the direhorse, “Nah, I’m just a good student—get this Jake, he says I’m better than you, but I think we already knew that…”

“Ha. Ha.” Jake rolled his eyes, “I was not that bad.”

Neytiri grinned, “Ma’Jake, you were worse.” You laughed as you slowly rode around them, Kiri giggling in your arms. “You fell off so many times, face dirty every time. It took you two weeks to be able to tame yours.”

“Okay, okay, she doesn’t need to know all of that.” He sent Neytiri a look despite the smile he tried fighting back. “Besides, the flying is a lot better anyway.”

“I want to fly!” Kiri shouted, waving her arms around. Lo’ak began following behind the direhorse, asking for turns to get a ride.

“You will one day, baby girl.” Jake smiled fondly up at the two of you.

“My turn! My turn!” Lo’ak said to you as you pulled your direhorse to a stop.

You grinned down at the younger boy, “Alrighty.” You heaved him up and placed him down in front of you and Kiri in front of him. “Hold onto your sister.”

“Tell us more stories!” Neteyam said from next to his father.

Neytiri thought for a moment as you continued circling around them. “When I met your father—”

“God no!” Jake sighed, cringing as both you and Neytiri laughed. “We’ve already told the story, Neytiri. We fell in love and the end.”

You purse your lips, “I know I wasn’t there but I’m definitely sure it didn’t happen like that.”

“It did not.” Neytiri confirmed.

Soon Neytiri began telling the children about how Jake and her met. It sounded as if she had told the story many times before and so had Jake who chimed in every once in a while. Eventually, you got off your direhorse and set both Kiri and Lo’ak down as they listened to the story.

As Neytiri finished, Neteyam looked at you curiously. And in that adorable way where he tilted his head up at you as you stood behind Jake, yellow eyes looking at you curiously. “How did you meet, sempul?”

You hummed thoughtfully, the day you met him clear as day in your mind. “Well, unlike your mother, I did not want to kill him at first.”

“But you were definitely thinkin’ it.” Jake commented as you knelt down behind him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“Oh I was.” You paused thoughtfully before continuing, “My sa’nok actually introduced us. In a way she set us up.” And so you told a lighter tale of how both you and Jake met. From when you were humans, from your time together in the Hallelujah Mountains, and up until the war with the Sky People which you told them cleverly that they’d have to wait until they were older to hear the rest of that part.

Eventually, after finally getting the children to eat and put to bed, Jake pulled you toward a random direction, “Jake, the hammock’s that way.”

He chuckled, “Ssh and follow me. I’m gonna show you somethin’.”

“Show me what?”

From behind you, Neytiri grinned, squeezing your shoulders, “The stars!”

Before you were about to say something dumb like “I already see the stars”, you soon realized what they meant when they led you to their two ikrans. Neytiri stepped away from you and got on her own. Jake led you to his, pulling you up to sit behind him.

The last time you had rode with him on his ikran was five years ago and one of the few good moments the two of you had shared together, after seeing each other in your avatars for the first time. Now you sit behind him again, wrapping your arms around your mate confidently while past you would’ve been hesitant and shy about it.

“You remember what to do?” He grinned at you over his shoulder.

“Shut up.” You pinched his waist.

With that, the ikrans took off. The wind whipping your face, caressing your ears and ruffling your hair. The forest below you and the sky…Neytiri was right.

They were taking you to see the stars.

As you flew, you leaned over a bit, holding onto Jake’s shoulders, to get a better look at his ikran. You never realized how beautiful yet vicious they were, how elegant they flew.

A grin tugged at your lips, “I have to get me one of these.”

Neytiri let out a hoot, smiling as she flew next to you and Jake.

You felt Jake’s hand tap your thigh, gaining your attention toward one of the moons. You had never seen it so clearly, even back when you rode with Jake for the first time, you had never seen anything as beautiful as the moon in the sky.

Your laugh was mixed with Neytiri’s excited shouts. And your eyes danced from the sky to meet Jake’s who looked back at you fondly, holding your hands tightly around his waist.

And in that moment, you hoped for more like it.

This peaceful life wasn’t so bad.

taglist: @luvvfromme @sully-stick-together @jakesullylvrr @s-u-t @ssc7514 @cheari @tojigirll @nyotamalfoy @perfectprofessorloverapricot @naityelen @dumb-fawkin-bitch @raggedyoldwitch @nhemmingsf @biooiuygjjgfsrb @thatsenoughformelol @thotd-f1 @beaniebeensbaby201 @theoriginalwife000 @3leni @23victoria @lovesickollie @atxara @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @ladylovegood-69 @lovekeeho @lilithmoon14512 @n7cje @fyfy-world @cleverzonkwombatsludge @goddesslilithmoriarty @itszzmoon @eternallyvenus @bajadotcom @ducks118 @alexandra-001 @sweetllamaparadise @padfootsvixen @avatarmasterlistblog

[walrus150915]

Goldenheart headcanons for when they have only started dating and were awkward as hell

(because I am a trans bi teenager who wants to experience mlm love yet can't because I'm afraid to date boys due to my dysphoria)

I noticed you people like when I make long posts like these and I love them too so I think I can share some hcs of mine about this stage of their relationship bc I have a lot honestly :]

- they started dating when they were around 16yo

- none of them actually had feelings for each other before puberty hit and they were like "damn my bestie is kinda fine- WHAT"

- Bal fell first. Ambrosius fell and broke the floor under him bc boyyyy did he fall HARD

- Bal navigated his feelings like "Ugh okay I guess that's what happens when you're friends with a handsome guy everyone has a crush on. That'll pass. That's part of puberty. Stay calm" meanwhile Ambrosius screamed in his pillow and freaked out and cried only to pretend nothing bothered him. It was hard to pretend when you literally study at the same academia/school/whatever and see each other every day bc you're best friends

- during the mutual pining era the PE lessons were DIFFICULT. Especially when they were put up against each other

- they look like friends who had no problem hugging/brushing each other's hair/being close physically in general yet when the feelings appeared, the things which used to be very easy turned torturous

- Ballister was the one to ask if Ambrosius saw that their friendship changed. Ambrosius couldn't hold it in anymore and mumbled through his confession so fast and awkward Ballister has only understood phrases like "I really like you" and "romantically I mean" and "you're very cool and that'd be sick if we became boyfriends"

- Bal turned his face to the side and muttered something like "yeah I think it would"

- and so they became boyfriends!!

- has something changed in the way they behaved around each other? Yeah but also not really. They were still besties and the physical contact became A LITTLE easier now that the sorta relationship they had was clear between them, but they just couldn't help but blush while touching each other

- their first kiss was a mess dude😭😭

- Ambrosius wanted it to go as smoothly as possible so he watched romantic movies and practiced kissing with his hand (embarrassing? Yeah I now) but when it was time to finally show off his skills he panicked and pressed his lips to Ballister's for a few seconds then his nose almost bled out bc of the nerves (not me projecting on Ambrosius but that's literally what happened to me when I had my first kiss)

- Ballister seemed calm about this whole thing but it doesn't mean he was. When they had their first ever date he brushed his teeth extra clear just to make sure he'd smell good during their first kiss. Bro was THRILLED

- basically Ambrosius was overthinking this and Ballister was... Also overthinking I'M SORRY THESE TWO ARE HORRIBLE

Now the headcanons are for the time when they've been dating for like more than a few months and have kinda got used to each other in this new ~romantic~ way

- Bal's way of flirting wasn't really obvious since he doesn't look like a guy who can come up with romantic compliments on the spot, however I think he touched Ambrosius if he wanted to express his feelings for him. Stroke his bleach-damaged hair, make their pinkies intertwine, put his head on his shoulder and nuzzle into him - this or he'd infodump new history/physics/chemistry facts he learnt

Bal: Okay, did you know that [some really complicated science stuff I cannot describe in words because I'm a literature major]

Ambrosius, heart-eyed, no clue what he's talking about: Wow that's really interesting anyways do you want me to change my surname to Boldheart-

- Ambrosius looks like a total theatre kid so I think he often flirted with Bal by quoting some love poems they had in their curriculum. Of course he quoted their analogue of Romeo's monologue under Juliet's balcony why do you think he wouldn't

- Having said that, whenever he quoted something which referred to a woman, he changed pronouns and general words bc he's attentive like that. Sometimes it got absurd tho. "Manservant of the moon" instead of "maid" like dude😭😭😭😭

- Ballister tried his best not to laugh but also not to pass out bcuz of the amount of praise his boyfriend gave him which was actually a lot. My man is as much of a mess as Ambrosius is let's not forget that

- one day Ambrosius quoted something which was not from the curriculum but instead from Bal's favorite book. I think Bal liked adventure books about knights which sometimes included romance and I imagine the dialogue going:

Ambrosius: "And even if I had to turn against the whole world to follow you-

Them together: "-I would do it with no hesitation-"

Ambrosius: "Because you are my world, Sir Redsword"

Them: *staring at each other*

Bal, all blushing: ...that's not from the books our teacher told us to read

Ambrosius, also blushing madly: Yeah but I figured I like some variety

- That's when Bal knew this guy was his forever soulmate

- Bal used to be taller than Ambrosius for a long time of their early years but then Ambrosius got late height boost or idk how it's called. Basically dude went from 5'5 to 6'1 overnight and I know Ballister was PISSED

- these two totally kissed in the janitor's closet when they needed some privacy I'm telling you (not even in a "steamy" way although I think some sort of tension existed - cmon they were late teens bro do you really think puberty is nice to teenagers???).

- why would you get a private space where you can explore this side of your relationship safely when you can have a literal closet with racks and mops and buckets, am I right

- Ambrosius tried writing poems for Ballister they SUCKED

- Ballister still saved each and one of them. One day, he'll sort through his things to move to his own place after the wall comes down and find these yellow checkered sheets of paper, full of bad rhymes and silly words. He'd bring all of them to his (and Ambrosius's) new apartment

Okay now the last hcs which I honestly have no idea how to call but umm ✨what people around them thought about their blooming romance✨

- Queen Valerin understood something was up on the spot. Like, for a straight woman, her gaydar worked flawlessly😭 it was enough for her to see them hide the fact that they held hands to go "I know what you are". She was pretty supportive although she did ask Bal on their one-to-one meeting to "use protection" like all moms do🖐

- The Director also knew something was up but her reaction was more like "Sir Ambrosius will grow out of it". As you know, he never did LMAOO

- Todd was hilariously oblivious despite teasing Ambrosius like "HAHA LOLLLL GOLDENLOIN WHY R U ALWAYS WITH THIS COMMONER GUY ARE YOU IN LOVE WITH HIM OR SOMETHING". He did it in a cishetero "haha gotta mock my homie for being gay" yet DID NOT REALIZE his homie was, indeed, gay

- some cadets could pick up on it, some didn't

- anyway I think the general public knew nothing about it bc if they did that'd be a scandal worse than Henry the 8th's when he created a new religion bc his loins were on fire thanks to Anne Boleyn

ALSO GET THIS LITTLE PIECE (which I don't really like bc of the coloring choices) OF THEM :D

I swear Ambrosius isn't yellow irl😭😭 I'm myself asian I now better than that

That's about it I guess! Lemme know what you think (if you wanna use/adopt these hcs, feel free to do whatever you want with them! Just tag me so I could see it wjsjjajaj!!!!) ;3

[starwarsmum]

Day 6! Breakfast at Tiffany's (an excellent song, really)

@maribat-calendar-events

“LB, you made it!” Chat crowed from across the room. Marinette gave a wave as she made her way over to the sofas where people were choosing songs. “M’lady, now that you're here I can request a song for us!”

“Uh-huh, sure thing, Chaton,” Marinette said distractedly, flopping down next to Rena. She had stayed up late the night before, working on the commission for Tim. It was a new hoodie, done in reds and blacks with coffee cup embellishments and she was really proud of it so far. 

Her eyes turned to where Beast Boy was belting out the lyrics to an old song, the words escaping her but the tune familiar. He was grinning and she nodded along as he crooned about having something in common with someone.

By the time the song Chat chose for them came on, she had relaxed enough that she was excited to participate. Say what you wanted, Nightwing's plan to team build with a karaoke night wasn't bad. Her eyes rolled automatically when she saw the song Chat had chosen, looking at him with exasperation.

“Really? Grease?” She tried not to feel too uncomfortable with his song choice, given that they had gotten over each other years ago. Chat's cheeky grin and kitten eyes made her groan in defeat before the music kicked off.

By the end of their song lots of people were laughing and giving catcalls and Marinette stuck her tongue out at Viperion who gave her a snarky grin. There was another love that had grown into a much more comfortable friendship, one that had a lot of shared secrets. She had been relieved when they'd continued being close friends even after she and Adrien had split.

She handed the microphone to the next person and made her way over to the teal haired musician. He had already poured her a glass of juice and was holding it out by the time she got to him and she accepted it gratefully. She took a large gulp before bumping her shoulder against his arm.

“You know, just because I don't date on this side of the mask doesn't mean I don't think other people should. Have you met anyone interesting up here yet?”

“Please, I'm focusing on my music,” Viperion snorted, taking a swig of something that looked decidedly like wine. “And you say you won't date on this side of the mask but I think you just need the right person to be interested. Haven't you been spending time with Blue Beetle? And Wonder Girl, and Robin? Are you telling me you don't like any of them?”

“Vi, Batman asked me to work with them, it's not like I'm making excuses to approach them,” Marinette said in exasperation. “Besides, I kind of…met someone in my civilian life.”

“What? Why haven't you told me any of this!” Viperion protested, ignoring her blush and the way she waved her arms to quiet him. She swept an eye over those closest to them but nobody seemed to be paying her any special attention.

_ _ _

Tim hadn't wanted to come to the karaoke excuse for team-building, but had been bullied into it by Cassie and Jaime. He had been interested to see the dynamic between Ladybug and Chat Noir, and felt a pleasant warmth in his veins when Ladybug had made it clear that she wasn't interested in her counterpart.

It was a short lived relief because she was clearly at least friendly with Viperion. And he was mirroring her well enough that Tim was confident he was probably interested in her. Tim hid a wince as he glanced at them, their friendly vibes just on the edge of what he thought was something more. She had said that Viperion was single…

“Wow, you are just gonna glare a hole through that guy, aren't you?” Cassie said as she approached him, pitching her voice low enough that only he could hear her. He turned a baleful look on her and she laughed, unrepentant. “Come on, if you aren't going to ask her out, she's free to mingle with anyone she likes.”

“Would you leave it alone? I'm not asking her out,” Tim grumbled, eyes flickering back to the Miraculous pair when Ladybug giggled.

“You know what? I'm still gonna ask if they're dating.”

Tim watched in horror as Cassie strolled over to the pair, smiling brightly and chatting. He was mortified when Viperion’s eyebrows raised and his eyes flickered to Tim with just a smidge too much amusement in them. Ladybug had gone a little red but her face was open as she said something back to Cassie. 

Tim was relieved when Cassie didn't immediately come back over to him - he didn't want them to think he had been asking about it, especially when he hadn't. But it was also frustrating having to wait for answers, not that he would admit it. So he was relieved when Cassie made her way over to him again when he was chatting with Jaime.

“So I have good news and bad news,” she announced without preamble. “Good news: they're not dating! Bad news: she doesn't date in the mask, ever. She might have thought about it when she was younger but she keeps it pretty professional these days, so the only way to get a date is to ask her as civilians.”

Tim sighed and accepted Jaime’s conciliatory cuff to the shoulder. It wasn't the end of the world, he only had a crush after all, but it was still disappointing. He glanced over to the woman in question and felt his heart flutter when she looked over at the same time, a smile appearing on her face.

He tried to squash the thought that maybe he could be an exception…

_ _ _

After the party team building exercise was finished, Marinette found herself hanging out in the communal break room with Chat, Rena, Wonder Girl and Nightwing. It was a comfortable group, Chat and Nightwing competing to make the worst best puns while Rena and Wonder Girl compared their weapons of choice. Marinette only broke into the conversation when a thought occurred to her.

“Oh, by the way, Wonder Girl? I don't know if this was why you were asking earlier but it's just me that has reservations about dating in the mask. I'm pretty sure Viperion is happy either way, so if you were interested…”

“Oh, um, thank you but no,” Wonder Girl said, looking amused. “I'm just burdened with curiosity. Plus, with the song you and Chat did-”

“I told you people would get the wrong idea!” Marinette said, smacking Chat's elbow. “I'm so sorry about him, he used to have a crush on me when we were kids and he likes to tease me.”

“I don't think Wonder Girl is looking to date Viperion,” Rena interjected, watching Wonder Girl speculatively. When she got a confused look in return she elaborated. “I heard you were dating Robin, right?”

“Not anymore they're not,” Nightwing said cheerfully. “It's a shame you don't date in the mask, Ladybug, I think you and Robin would be a good fit.”

“Hang on a second, if she's going to start dating a hero, it'd be me!” Chat said, looking comically aggrieved. 

“Well I'm not looking to date in the masks, okay? I don't want to have a partner I can't introduce to my parents and friends without giving away their or my secret identity.”

Marinette felt she must have made a solid argument because they didn't try to convince her otherwise. And the conversation was soon consigned to the murky depths of her memory soon after.

[broidobe]

𝔡𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔫𝔦𝔠𝔨 𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔷𝔞 𝔴𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔩𝔲𝔡𝔢

requested!

⁎⁺˳✧༚megadeth masterlist

constant drumming

this man is always tapping on something. your thigh, the table, your back when he's cuddling you—it's like he has a metronome in his head 24/7.

sometimes, you'll be mid-conversation, and he zones out just to tap out a rhythm on his knee.

goofy as hell 

nick has so much chaotic energy. expect spontaneous impressions, exaggerated accents, and him making the dumbest jokes just to hear you laugh.

he’s the type to pull a ridiculous face in the mirror while brushing his teeth just to see if you’ll crack up.

motorcycle rides

if you’re into bikes, he loves taking you for rides, especially late at night when the roads are quiet.

he’s careful with you, making sure you hold on tight, but will absolutely show off a little just to hear you squeal.

spontaneous jam sessions

he’d 100% grab his sticks and drum along to random songs you play, whether it’s on the radio, a record, or you just humming. sometimes, he’ll get so into it he forgets he was supposed to be doing something else.

big on physical affection

he loves casual, effortless touches. a hand on your waist as he passes by, resting his chin on your shoulder while you’re sitting, ruffling your hair just to tease you. expect a lot of tight hugs where he lifts you off the ground just because he can.

protective in a lowkey way

he’s not aggressive, but he’s always paying attention. if someone makes you uncomfortable, he’ll step in casually, throwing an arm around you and making it clear that you’re with him. but if things escalate? oh, he’s ready.

his place is a disaster

let’s be real, he’s a little messy. not dirty, just…chaotic. drumsticks everywhere, random doodles on napkins, a half-finished project on the counter.

if you help him clean up, he gets so smug, like wow, look how nice my place is now, as if he did it himself.

so supportive of your passions

whatever you're into, he’s into because you are. he’ll ask about your interests, hype you up, and if it’s something he can be involved in? even better. if you write, he’ll want to read your stuff. if you paint, he’ll want to watch you work.

lazy days in bed

he’s got energy, but when he’s not drumming or riding, he loves chilling. he’ll pull you into bed just to lounge, talking about random stuff for hours.

if it’s raining outside?

even better.

just a genuinely fun, loving guy

nick would make every day feel exciting. he’s not high-maintenance, he just wants to laugh, make music, and love you the best way he can.

[monakisu]

i'm very sorry to bother you, but since i didn't get a chance before it was shoved in the dusty storage closet, i just wanna say that the cat & the crow is such a PHENOMENAL fic. i was literally so emotional over baby akira the entire time i was reading it. his loneliness is so acute and it is SOUL-WRENCHING. you characterize both him and goro so well. your prose just makes it too omg. it switches so well from a jovial, childhood summer to a scene that makes me sob. it's so so good. goro too is such a little shit in that i need to knit him a sweater right now. anyways yeah that's all i wanted to say gl with whatever project you're currently working on!!!

wow this is great thanks. my current project is: chapter 4.

i remember seeing this notification and smiling widely to myself but right now im feeling like a dust mite so im not very verbose HOWEVER as thanks i'll just show you a section of ch.4 i've more or less completed. i would never do this normally but i like your message a lot so know that you are Sublimely Special. enjoy!

Goro had personally shown up at Akira's doorstep twice now, but not once had he stepped foot inside. This was a tragedy, a travesty, and a tremendous oversight on Akira's part. What a horrible host he'd been! His guest would come all this way and Akira would make him loiter at the welcome mat as he held open the door just wide enough to show off the inside of his house, but not so wide to let anybody actually enter. It was like setting up a candy shop during a famine and catering only to the roly-poly rich who had more than enough to gorge themselves on, while the hungry could only paw forlornly at the window displays. 

It was, in short, terrible, taunting torture. 

The second Goro stepped gingerly into the clearing, prim and pretty, Akira flashed up to him and grabbed him by the shoulders—firmly, the way one stopped a bull by the horns.

"My house today," Akira ordained lowly.

Goro's eyes blew wide open. His shoulders locked up tighter than a maximum security vault. His mouth worked wordlessly for a few seconds. "O—Okay?"

It would be interesting to see how Goro contrasted with the interior decor. This was a completely normal thought. 

"Is there anything we need to specifically do at your house?" Goro asked cautiously. 

Akira pondered this, then decided that a normal thought ought to work well as a normal response. "I need to see how you contrast with the interior decor."

Once again, Goro went wordless. 

His silence persisted all throughout the trek to Akira's house. It wasn't a terribly long trek; they needed only to stick to a straight path. The forest that housed their clearing belonged to an elevated hillside, as did Akira's cul-de-sac. The further up one ventured in the hills, the bigger and farther spaced apart the houses became. Community was most prominently condensed in the heart of Inaba, down below with Junes, the mom-and-pop shops, and cozy neighborhoods, where people couldn't go two steps without running into a familiar face. This community fractured into thin spiderweb strands high up in the hills, where residents veered more on the stand-offish, reclusive end of the spectrum, loosely linked by gossamer silk that could break off at any sudden movement. Once one made it high enough that the hills became mountains, however, community came to a full stop. Nobody lived there, save for the rare few crazy people. The crazies fell into two categories: those who had gone crazy from the isolation, or those who were simply crazy for nature. 

Those sickos went on hikes... for fun. 

Here on the hills, wide expanses of land could go empty for a great many steps before someone's backyard began. Once out of the forest, there was minimal shade to hide Akira and Goro from the relentless sun, motivating them to quicken their pace. Some land developer decades ago had chopped down a good chunk of the forest to make room for houses. Compared to the odyssey it took to get to Junes, they reached Akira's house in no time. 

The uncharacteristic absence of complaints following behind Akira unsettled him. A chatty birdy was a healthy birdy. A quiet birdy was a... concern. 

Like a candlestick succumbing to a flame, Akira's confidence had melted steadily with each silence-laden step towards his house. By the time they were standing at his doorstep, he had grown quite clammy. 

"Ummm... this is my house." Which Goro already knew. "You know this." 

Goro finally broke his silence. "Yes, I do?" 

Hearing his voice, Akira's candlestick confidence quickly rebuilt itself, invigorating him enough to chance a glance at Goro's face. Instead of the scary blankness he'd been dreading, Goro just looked a little confused. His eyebrows were furrowed and his stare was one full of studious intent, as though Akira had presented him a new, never-before-seen puzzle to solve by the end of the day. 

"Is there a reason you've dragged me here? A real one. Other than to compare me to the interior. By the way, cat, that's an extremely odd thing to say. Be more self-aware, why don't you?"

Aw, beans. Not normal at all.

"Well?" Goro crossed his arms. "Are we going in or wasting the day on your welcome mat?"

Akira looked down at his shoes, where they stood on nothing but stone.

"Figuratively speaking," clarified Goro. 

Akira supposed it was high time to get a move on things. "I don't lock the door—"

"You really should."

"—but the key's usually behind the water fairy." He was referring to the never-once worked fountain statue of a pretty lady carved from stone, cradling a big blossom from which water was presumably meant to sprout. If there was a hidden button to activate the fountain mechanism, then it remained lost to all the residents of the house. 

"Seriously? The first time you're inviting me into your home, and you're immediately granting me the power to swing in anytime I want? Why is this the first thing you tell me about your house?"

Goro sounded awfully judgmental for what was supposed to be a nice gesture. In a brilliant feat of rational thinking, Akira reasoned, "It's fine if it's Goro."

"And only me, alright?" stressed Goro, voice dragged down low by ominous implications. "Never extend this right to anybody else. You recall that chain of murders two years ago. Who knows what they'd do with this sort of power. Sneak into your house and slash your throat while you sleep? That's the likeliest possibility. A preventable possibility. Not even the worst thing that could happen. There are fates far more savage than a quick death. It's a foolish thing to do: handing your death wish to any random stranger who happens to look your way, then pointing them to the welcome mat. Don't tell anybody else about this key, Akira. It's enough for me to know. Got it?"

That was a huge PSA prompted by one little key. Akira patiently humored him, "Got it, Goro. Only you."

Goro seemed to like how that sounded, because his sternness was stolen away by a twitch to the corner of his mouth, which then grew and grew into a big, proud, peachy-pleased smile. "Don't you forget that, cat."

The door swung open with its customary creaaak. Akira had organized the shoes populating the mudroom in advance in jittery anticipation of Goro's visit. It was a plum thing that he'd done so; his mother's last visit seemed to require digging out every pair of shoes in her possession from the shelves and cabinets and closets, and then another requirement had been to flood the floor with mismatched shoes and gutted boxes, and then the last requirement had been to leave promptly. It only just now occurred to Akira that he'd have been awfully ashamed to show Goro something so sloppy. 

"It's nice to see more of your house beyond a tiny crack when you open your door," Goro said, but where his voice would usually be brimming with bite and energy, it sounded off. Shoes still on, he stood listlessly by the entrance. 

Akira took out a pair of newly purchased slippers and set it in front of Goro. Each slipper had its own smiling frog face protruding from the top, big and bulbous. Akira had seen them at Junes, thought them charming, and bought them promptly. While Goro stared incomprehensibly at the slippers, Akira swapped his sandals for his own pair. 

"These are house slippers," Akira informed him, when Goro still had yet to make a move. The frogs seemed to be offending his eyes. "You can wear them if you want." It hardly mattered if he didn't; Akira had recently swept the floors, so there was no dust to kick up. He had to rely on brooms and mops instead of their handier relative, the vacuum cleaner, since it was too bulky for him to maneuver just yet. 

After a few more nudges, Goro stiffly, stiltedly swapped his loafers for slippers, then had to be lured out of the mudroom with encouraging words like a spooked horse. 

Akira's birdy started the house tour with immense, palpable discomfort. Disappointingly, he and the interior didn't seem to be meshing very well. He took small steps, feet feather-light, as though reluctant to even touch the floor through the pads of his slippers. Did he hate the floorboards so sorely? Maybe he thought they were dirty? Hoping to put his worries at ease, Akira assured him that he'd swept it two days ago. He could sweep it again, right now, should Goro wish for it. 

"Wishing is for losers!" Goro snapped with unforeseen fury.

W-Wow. Okay.

Thankfully, expressing his anger in a new environment was enough of a foot in the door for him to finally relax. He began taking big, stomping strides forward, slippers slapping the floor, as though to physically distance himself from his unease. Akira hurried after him. 

By the time he caught up, Goro had made it to the living room. He was frowning at the admittedly excessive number of lamps littering the space. It was as though every lamp in the rest of the house had been squirreled away into this single room—a lamp monopoly. That was Akira's doing. Recently, he'd discovered a fondness for lamps from the lighting section in the furniture store. After spending all day under the sun, returning to a dark and dreary house had been rather jarring. The lamps had been his choice of remedy. There were actually more lamps than there were electrical outlets. 

Across the hallway, separated by big, rectangular columns that rose up into ceiling-high arches, were the sitting rooms. The Red Room waited insidiously in the corner of his eye. Akira had drawn open the thick, velveteen curtains of every window in the house early this morning, to allow sunlight to stream into what was usually a gloomy interior. In addition to Goro's natural influence, the whole house seemed that much brighter. 

"Oh, it's your monster under the bed." Goro was referring to the little cat plushie slumped over on the couch. That's... one way of putting it. "There was also one on your shoe stand. Don't tell me your whole house is populated with these things."

"Alright," agreed Akira. "I won't tell you." And then he pointed at a lamp. "This is a lamp." He felt like he was doing a pretty dandy job of this tour guide thing.

Goro glowered at him sourly, then resolutely looked at anything but the lamp. In doing so, something else caught his hateful eye. "Hey, is that your landline?" He seemed to doubt the validity of this landline, because he went over specifically to the little side table by the couch so he could pick up the phone, listen to the dull beeeeep of the dial tone, and set it back down. "Fantastic. I'll make a note of this."

If Akira could, he'd have a giant question mark bobbing above his head. 

"Your couch takes up too much space," was the next item on Goro's list to gripe about. Actually, Akira had yet to figure out if that phone tangent qualified as a gripe or not. Goro had been shockingly cordial with it. 

Akira settled on a shrug. "There's a lot of space... to take up."

"That's regrettably true. You know what?" Here came the follow-up item on Goro's list of gripes: "Your house takes up too much space."

Akira had nothing to say to that. 

"What's that thing?" Goro pointed an accusing finger at a big, table-like object cloaked in an embroidered tapestry, tucked away in a corner of the living room. It seemed he had found his next target to tear into. 

"That's the piano. Nobody uses it." Akira corrected himself, "Nobody has used it." 

For as long as he'd been alive, he'd never once witnessed its use. It might have been a gift, once upon a time. His mother liked to brag about the various sumptuous offerings the "background characters" had lavished her with, on the most important, most momentous, most mostest day in history: her wedding. This was in conjunction to bragging about her wedding in general. She was a woman who thrived exclusively on the memory of a single day.

Once a reflective obsidian sleeker than silk, the grand piano had now faded away into a mundane fixture of the house—another piece of decor against which to prop more decor. Oftentimes, Akira struggled to recognize it as a piano and not as a uniquely shaped table. 

Goro was prompt in concocting a condemnation for it. "What a waste. Sitting there and rotting away. The keys have probably collected so much dust, mold, and dirt that they're more biohazards than instruments. You've never even bothered practicing?"

"Practicing? For what?"

"Practicing playing the piano, Akira."

"Oh." Akira nodded. That made sense. "No. I don't know how."

"Then why is it still here?" agonized Goro. "Why don't you just—sell it off already?"

Akira wrinkled his nose. Selling required socializing. "That sounds like a lot of work." And the piano wasn't hurting anybody. It seemed to have adjusted well to its new life as a table. 

"Hopeless," was Goro's concocted condemnation for him, personally. 

"Would Goro like to try?" Pause. "Practicing?" Pause. "Playing the piano?" No more pauses. 

Goro grumbled, "You don't have to clarify what you mean so thoroughly. I'm not you." Objectively true. "And, no. What if I'm not immediately good at it? What if I fail from the get-go? I'd never live it down."

 Akira suggested more than said, "Nobody's immediately good at anything...? I don't think..."

"I am," declared Goro with unshakable certainty. 

Someone was missing the obvious here. "But you don't try things."

"I try the things I know I'm good at."

"But how do you know you're good at them if you've never tried them before?"

"Let's move on, Akira," Goro concluded abruptly. 

They moved on.

"Why do rich people insist on depriving their homes of every conceivable color besides white?" Goro's complaints were ceaseless. "They're so obsessed with mimicking mental institutions. All this money, but they still can't buy taste!" He did finally cease, however, when they walked past the Red Room. "T...That's... new."

"If you like perfume or blood, go in there." Akira pointed helpfully. With the way Goro was staring at him, as disturbed as a cow in a meat-packing factory, Akira wagered that he probably didn't enjoy either option very much. "That room's got a lot."

Goro's disturbed cow stare was growing more complex. "Of... blood?" 

Akira had learned the hard way of how ineffectual wet paper towels were when pitted against blood-stained Persian carpets. The same for vacuum cleaners. And hand soap. And dish soap. "Yeah."

"Oh." Goro didn't sound too happy. "Hey, look, there's your kitchen, cat."

"This is my kitchen," agreed Akira. 

Goro examined his surroundings with the critical eye of a health inspector, gaze panning from one end of the room where the fridge sat humming and wearing its winter coat of papers, magnets, stickers, and glue, then panning all the way to the other end, where the length of the black marble island came to a sleek stop and the circular breakfast table (rarely used) came to a circular beginning. The vase of sunflowers, having been moved from the middle of the hallway to the middle of the breakfast table, was slightly wilted and missing some of its petals, but its striking yellowness meant it especially stood out from its black and white environment. Goro lingered on it for a prolonged second, a faint smile ghosting his frown, before he swept over the rest of the kitchen once more. "How excessive." 

Nothing could satisfy his eye, it seemed. 

The second thing Goro said upon entering the kitchen was, "Why is there another cat on the windowsill?" 

"We need eggs for omelettes," announced Akira abruptly. He'd realized partway through the house tour that he'd really, really like to cook something for Goro. 

"Now that I think about it, you really do have those things scattered everywhere. Hoarder much?"

"Eggs."

Side-eyeing him, Goro huffed, "I'm hardly your maid," but went to retrieve the eggs from the fridge, which—Okay. Hadn't been Akira's intention in the first place, but was still awfully nice of him anyhow. Goro was ever-so thoughtful. 

His thoughtfulness extended to his need to narrate his thoughts regarding the state of Akira's fridge. According to those thoughts, it was not a very good state. "Why's this great big casket so empty?! Tsk, what a waste! And what is that? It looks like it used to be a tomato, but now it's growing itself an empire of mold. Disgusting!"

"The tomato lives there," Akira tried to explain, but, in truth, failed to achieve much of an explanation at all. "Ummm. Residency."

The fridge door was closed with a shuttering, shivering SLAM! that had it shedding some of its winter coat. Magnets clattered to the floor in one go. 

"Was that on purpose," asked Akira mildly. 

Goro didn't deem him with an actual answer. "You need to purge that thing." I'm not going to do that. "Here. Your stupid eggs." Whoa. Egg hatred. 

Akira thanked Goro genuinely and generously, because Goro was acting as though the egg retrieval had been some terribly taxing task that he'd nearly broken his back bending backwards and over completing, and thank you's ought to match the severity of the injuries incurred along the way. "Birdy's the best."

"That's right, cat," Goro preened, before he practically slammed the egg carton onto the countertop, the same way one might slam a plank of wood into someone's skull. The egg hatred went to the extremes, it seemed. 

Akira stopped this hate crime at the last second, shooting his hands out to cradle the carton from its tabletop torment. "Thank you so much," he stressed.

Goro frowned. "If you want the eggs so badly, just ask for them." He handed them over with considerably greater care, in a manner that conveyed his earnest belief that Akira was more fragile than an egg. If only he'd been that gentle when he'd been slapping cartons onto counters. "Also, why are we suddenly making omelettes?"

"Aren't you hungry?" 

A careless shrug. "I usually am. So what? It's nothing new."

How horrible! "Omelettes and onigiri," decided Akira.

Goro was astounded. "Stop adding more food?!"

Akira hadn't been nearly as thoughtful as Goro, and so had neglected to tell him to retrieve the rest of the ingredients with the eggs. As this was entirely his fault, Akira brought back the leftover rice from yesterday, a square frying pan, a spatula, and the seasonings by himself. 

Goro didn't like that. "Hey!" 

"What's wrong, Goro?"

"Why'd you bring back ten times as many items as me? That's a fundamental injustice!"

"You can hold them if you want." Akira shoved bottles of soy sauce and sesame oil into Goro's hands. Hopefully, these would keep him and his sense of justice occupied. 

Goro immediately went to complain, "This is a thankless task." But the complaints ended there, so he couldn't be that mad about it. 

"Thank you," Akira added, just to be sure.

Growling, Goro creaked his hostages rather dangerously. Akira didn't know bottles could creak like that. 

O-Okay, back to cooking. Akira announced hurriedly, "Let's prepare the eggs."

Goro halted his creaking to squint down at the eggs. "What do you do with them? They're eggs, so you crack them, don't you?"

Cracking eggs took serious skill. "Do you know how to crack an egg?" Goro was Goro, so of course he knew how to do something as skilled as this, right?

"Of course I know how to do something as simple as that!" Right!

Delighted by Goro's Goro-ness (this was a common occurrence), Akira accidentally let loose an enthralled, "Really?"

It was taken the wrong way. "Yes," Goro hissed, steaming-hot with offense. And then, dropping his hostages, he ripped an egg out of the carton, reeled his arm back, and smashed it onto the counter.

Akira watched it splatter in the most spectacular, most gruesome manner he'd ever seen an innocent egg be massacred.

...Maybe Goro doesn't know how to crack an egg. 

Goro took notice of Akira's stare and bristled, all pent-up rage and porcupine-y. "It's cracked now, isn't it?" 

"It... sure is," was what Akira eventually settled on. Because it really was cracked now—cracked all over the counter and all over the floor, with bits and bobs sticking to the wall, too. The blast radius was truly admirable, all things considered. He might have admired it a touch more had it been localized in a mixing bowl, where eggs were meant to be cracked—not exploded, simply cracked—and yolk was to be mixed—not exploded, either. 

And what else had cracked? The bottle of soy sauce. Goro was a wonder. 

"What other ingredients do I have to conquer?" Goro asked darkly, and then Akira was hastily re-introducing him to the wondrous safety of rice.

As it turned out, not even rice could curb Goro's bloodlust. 

It became obvious at a very quick, very destructive rate that, for all the years she'd been alive, Goro's mother must have been actively barring him from the kitchen and handing him only the easiest, least explosive foods to manhandle. Because Goro and cooking were clearly two intrinsically incompatible forces of nature. 

"What are you nattering about?" scorned Goro, voice curved high from instinctual defense on his mother's behalf. "Of course I was allowed into the kitchen. We didn't have the luxury of sectioning the kitchen into its own massive ballroom, you know. We ate in there." Having defended her memory an adequate amount, his voice calmed down to its usual melody. "But my mother did never allow me near the stove, or any ingredients, if that's what you mean. She also stopped letting me touch knives near the end, for some reason."

Clearly, Goro's mother had been a sublimely smart woman. 

"She wouldn't even let me wash the dishes." If Goro had been treating those poor dishes the same way he'd treated the fridge and the eggs, then Akira could certainly see why. 

Goro slapped the onigiri he'd been shaping (more like: compacting into the world's most condensed ball of matter) onto the table. Not a plate, nor a cutting board, but the table. Thank goodness Akira had already wiped down every surface in the house that morning. Akira silently relocated it to a plate. "Now, cat, let me have another go at those eggs." 

After three eggs ended up splattered on the wall and the butter stuck to the ceiling, Akira sent Goro off to the living room to watch some commercials and maybe calm down. 

"NO!" Goro snarled, covered in yellow yolk and looking more than a little feral. "I can do this! I can—pulverize some eggs!" 

"How about you pulverize... some... television," Akira suggested gently, then tried to tidy Goro's face with a towel and immediately gave up after three of his fingers were nearly bitten clean off. 

It was a wonder how caustically, catastrophically cataclysmic Goro was when it came to cooking. Akira was suitably impressed—and doubly fearful of what he might have done had the stove been on.

Without Goro afflicting his idea of "help" onto the ingredients, Akira wrapped up the dishes with refreshing ease. Thanks to Goro, he could now appreciate what he'd been taking for granted before: the ability to cook unimpeded by threats of bodily harm and property destruction. Goro exerted a certain revolutionary effect on perspectives. He could make Akira thankful for even the most itty-bitty details of his life. 

Akira surveyed the damage done to the kitchen. A teeny-tiny sigh escaped him. It looked like another wipe-down was in order. 

At the very least, he tried to reassure himself, it's not as bad as letting loose a stampede of wild hogs into the house. This was a very average and comforting philosophy that had him cheering up in an instant. Thank goodness Goro was less destructive than a hog stampede—if only by a little bit. Yet another detail to be thankful for. 

Following the distant rabble of pew-pew!s and sha-shing!s, Akira found Goro sulkily holed up in the living room, in front of the blitzing, blaring television. He was cleaned of yolk, slightly damp, and in the process of making a soggy, Goro-shaped imprint on the leather couch. A stray plushie was half-buried in the cushions of the couch next to him. This was, in every way, better than a hog stampede. It looked like he'd just emerged from the downstairs bathroom, which Akira recalled had a layout of dizzying red tiles that covered the walls and floors and also had zero windows. He hoped Goro had enjoyed that visual experience.

On the television, masked heroes flew across the screen. They wore all the colors of the rainbow, tip-topped with golden, feathery frou-frou. It made perfect sense; naturally, Akira's birdy liked to watch his fellow birds. 

Akira came to a silent stop behind Goro's watery seat. "Would birdy like to eat at the breakfast table or the dinner table?"

Goro whipped his head around. Water droplets ricocheted like bullets. "YOU HAVE TWO TABLES?!"

Akira hesitated, unsure of what he'd done to set Goro off this time. "We don't have to eat at a table?"

It took a while, but Goro did, at least, with equal parts grand mulishness and grander reluctance, concede, "...The dinner table."

"'kay!" A happy clap! rang in the air. Having sufficiently expressed his joy, Akira peered around Goro at the television. "Oh, I like that show, too. Featherm—"

Goro's finger practically speared itself clean through the remote out of bloodthirsty vigor. That poor power button never stood a chance. The television blinked black. Akira had half-expected some of the remote's abuse to travel to the television, perhaps short-circuiting it with an electric zap! and reducing its screen to screaming neon color bars. Miraculously, everything remained relatively intact. 

"Is your finger okay?" Akira cradled Goro's hand as though it might clatter apart at any moment. 

"Irrelevant." Regardless of that ruthless remark, Goro allowed Akira to lightly blow on his finger. Hoo! "And I wasn't watching what you thought I was watching. That was simply a... commercial. Those trifling wastes of time. I've got no power over what cable throws at me. Before the commercial, I'd been watching a crime show. About investigating crime. With detectives and legalities."

"And crime?" Akira absentmindedly patted Goro's hand. The pat-pat's lent it structural strength. 

Goro pointed his nose high up in the air. "Yes. The crime is critical." Akira hummed. "Since it was a crime show," Goro apparently thought this was necessary to expound, "as you know." 

"As I know," nodded Akira, then tugged him up by the hand (although, it was really more like Akira had lightly suggested getting up with an even lighter tug, and Goro had been gracious enough to comply). "Let's get our omelettes, birdy."

Goro's noise remained sky-high 'til it was time to settle into their respective seats, after which he finally deigned to look down. Before him waited two plates, one for each of them. On each plate lay a fluffy omelette—tamagoyaki—rolled up and sliced into plump pieces, and a triangular ball of rice grilled and sauced to a golden crisp. A warm, savory aroma wafted through the air. Akira had foregone any filling for the yaki-onigiri, for two reasons: 1) despite his fondness for experimenting with the cookbook, he didn't have the ingredients on hand, because hoarding ingredients that would sooner or later spoil with nobody to eat them was a wasteful thing to do, and 2) he worried it'd be too much to eat in conjunction to the omelettes. There was a separate plate of more yaki-onigiri in the middle of the table, since it would have been a shame to let the leftover rice go unused. It was leagues more food than the amount Akira would make for himself, but leagues less than what a nuclear family on television would chow down on. 

His recipe book had featured these two dishes in separate sections, but since both required a pan, Akira had figured he could combine them into one meal with minimal difficulty. Using his square pan, he'd rolled the omelettes into fluffy prisms first, sprinkled them with salt, then sizzled the seasoned onigiri second. The recipe book had advertised the eggs as such: "These eggs will be wondrously savory and so soft that you'll barely need to bite down before they're splitting apart in your mouth!" 

"These onigiri... You only had to mash the rice together with the seasonings before you grilled them, didn't you?" Just from listening to Goro's tone, anybody could tell that he was feeling slighted. "With a spoon or something. It wouldn't even have required an open flame at that stage. Just mashing."

This was true. "Birdy's right."

"I could've done something as tedious as destroying grains for you, but you simply had to kick me out of the kitchen." Goro looked remarkably royal sitting in his seat, with the carved mahogany backing of the chair framing his head just so, the way the best oil paintings had the fanciest frames. He didn't look out of place at all. Akira always felt a little awkward sitting in these chairs. They dwarfed him miserably. Goro, on the other hand—oh, wait. Goro was still saying something. "Mashing's not a feat of rocket science."

This was also true. "Birdy's right again. I should've thought of that." Akira didn't sound very sorry when he said, "Sorry."

"What're you always apologizing for?" Rather than wait another tedious ten seconds for a one-word reply, Goro answered himself with a sigh. "As long as you learn from this and take it into account in the future, it's fine. Besides, I don't like sitting around while you do everything. It's unequal. You hate that, don't you? Inequivalent exchange?"

"Inequality?" parroted Akira. It had historically led to a great deal of bad things. "Sure. Hate it."

Goro puffed himself up proudly. "I'm never not right."

Akira nodded. "Birdy's right about that, too."

"See?" Puffed to the max. "When things work themselves out so effortlessly like this, you know that's how they're meant to be."

Meant to be... Akira rolled the idea around in his head, feeling it run along the grooves of his brain, its glassy surface as smooth as water, and felt it roll to a stop in a perfect marble-shaped nook. Clink. A thought occurred to him. It was a good one. Proud to have arrived at this thought but not nearly so puffy about pride as Goro had been, he voiced it aloud, "Like us."

"What?" Goro looked startled. He thought about it some more, then looked even more startled. Stupefied, really. "What?"

"Omelettes," Akira instructed him. 

"Alright, alright!" Goro looked at him witheringly. Withering look turned apprehensive, Goro picked up a fluffy omelette slice between two delicate chopsticks, inexplicably held it there for half a minute, and took what could be an insultingly small bite of his already small piece if Akira chose to feel insulted. He chewed, looking deeply pensive, then lit up with astonishment. "Oh! It's edible."

Edible.

Akira supposed expecting anything more than barebones acknowledgment from Goro was a pipe dream. The aggressive sushi acknowledgment had been more than enough to last a lifetime. Besides, this was high praise compared to the usual dialogue his cooking would win from his mother. "What is all this green rot for? I don't want this. I want that. No, I'd like this instead. No, no, back to that. It's got a peculiar odor. Why is this so small? This is far too big. Also, I'm on a diet right now. I'm not eating."

Akira couldn't be more pleased than if Goro had actually liked his food.

"I... I do actually like your food," confessed Goro in a quiet mutter, before he grew louder. "It's better than watery gruel, at least. A step above fertilizer. It's not going to land you a Michelin star any time soon, but you're getting there. Your progress is too slow. Can't you speed up? This needs more seasoning."

"You think I could earn a Michelin star?" asked Akira in his own version of a quiet mutter, except his mutter wasn't deliberate but a default setting for him. Awe colored his voice. Wings fluttered in his chest. He felt almost airborne. 

Goro harrumphed, nose in the air. "Think what you want, cotton brains."

"But this is about what you think, birdy."

"Oh, so you're stuffing ideas into my head now, are you? Thinking my own thoughts for me, hmm? How presumptuous of you. How right you are. I did need the help, thinking for myself. It was getting troublesome. Being mindless—isn't that better? You would know, darling cat. You truly are too generous, too philanthropic—" And off he went, stomping down that long, winding, and well-worn trail that the rickety sign, shaped as an arrow, decreed to be "Deflecting." 

Moving past all that deflecting, it became clear: Goro liked his cooking. This was new. This was big. Nobody had ever liked Akira's cooking before. In fact, up 'til now, he'd been staunchly convinced that his cooking was horrible. Subpar at best. But if Goro liked something, then that meant it was top-of-the-line. Goro only liked the best of the best. 

The best must have extended to the yaki-onigiri, because Goro had stabbed his chopsticks into one and was aggressively chomping a bite out of it. So, it's not only the omelettes... The onigiri, too? 

He liked them both!

Akira felt so happy, so flighty, that he had no idea what to do with himself. Left with little else to do and far too much energy to spare, he hopped down from his seat, bounced over to Goro, and flung his arms around him. It was extraordinarily warm. Sunny rays after a rainshower. Hot chocolate on a winter's day. He murmured into soft hair, "Goro. Thank you, really."

Goro immediately began choking to death. 

Frightened, Akira tripped backwards into the fireplace. "Goro?!" 

A cloud of soot exploded into the air. Eggs on the wall, eggs on Goro, and now soot all over the place. What a great, big mess. 

It seemed a third wipe-down was in order. The stampede of wild hogs was beginning to look better and better by the second. 

•••

By some miracle, the omelettes and onigiri had been mostly spared by the uproar of soot. 

After washing up in the nearest bathroom, Akira set aside the few that had been misfortunate enough to gain a coat of soot, but as for the ones who had a light sprinkling on their edges, Goro refused to part with them. He insisted that it would be a grievous waste of precious food. Akira was at a loss. His birdy who was usually such a stickler for cleanliness was now clinging stubbornly to some sooty eggs? 

"Come now, it's hardly a big deal." Goro's voice was pitched to be pleasantly placating, in stark contrast to his actions: hunching over and caging his plate within his arms like a jealous dragon. "Just leave them be."

Helpless, Akira could only acquiesce, "Um... If birdy likes soot that much..."

"Don't imply weird things!"

Akira scratched his head. There wasn't much to imply what wasn't already screamed aloud for all to hear. He climbed back into his seat, looking down at his own egg. It was still as untouched as it was before The Soot-ening. A gentle pleasure buzzed in his chest. The last time he'd made an omelette, it had gone dissected and uneaten. This time, his omelette was being treasured so devoutly. What wasn't there to be pleased about this turn of events? 

Distantly, from beyond the breezy screen door of the patio, he could hear someone's pet musician practicing the piano, as well as the crunchy roll of a car's wheels against pavement. Wind chimes tinkled twinkly tunes. A dog was barking, as always. 

"Are you going to take a bite sometime this century?" came a drawl across from him. Goro had his chin in his hand and his eyes fixed lazily on Akira. 

"Huh?" queried Akira smartly. 

"You've been staring at that thing for—" Stare still fixed, Goro tilted his head towards the digital clock on the wall. "—two minutes, fifteen seconds, and counting. Are you some alien species that only eats with your eyes? How novel."

It'd been two minutes already? Akira looked at Goro's plate. Empty! He hopped off his chair. "Birdy! Do you want more sooty eggs?"

"Sit down!" Goro barked, jabbing a fierce finger. 

Akira sat down. 

"You're not leaving this table until you finish that." Uwagh. "And quit associating me with soot!" Ugagah. 

Akira went back to staring at his egg, only this time with heaps more misery slouching his shoulders. He poked his egg despondently. Imprisoned in his own house! What a fate. 

Goro had his brows all twisted in vexation. "Just take a bite. Is that so hard? It's not even disgusting to eat. It's quite good, actually. I don't understand you."

That's right! Akira's birdy thought his food tasted good! And—and, last time, he'd called his sushi delicious. Goro thought Akira might earn a Michelin star one day. Michelin stars were Big Deals. Any restaurant, from food carts to big buildings, would jump over the moon from the electric joy of winning a star, and then they'd plaster news of this star all over their carts and buildings, so that any passerby might learn of this star and be lured in for star-ful food. Akira had nearly forgotten this Big Deal because of Goro's near death experience in the fireplace. 

His self-esteem freshly invigorated, Akira picked up a little portion of egg and stuck it in his mouth. Akira was shocked by the presence of flavor. Usually, food was little more than bland mush to work his jaw around until he grew sore and bored of the whole charade. These omelettes had been whisked and cooked 'til they'd turned soft and fluffy; unlike tough grilled omelettes or slippery boiled eggs, biting into a roll required so little effort that the egg split in half with the ease of wind sluicing through a cloud. And it really did taste quite good—surprisingly so! A bit cold, perhaps, but that barely detracted from the taste. He even realized that he had a bit of an appetite. 

It was a resoundingly fresh revolution to his life experiences up 'til now.

"How have you survived this long?" Goro asked in genuine wonder, watching Akira delicately chew his omelette, his eyes wide from revelation and looking like he'd had his mind blown to smithereens. 

Akira ate his omelette, Goro ate one yaki-onigiri, and the rest was either stowed away in the refrigerator or packaged up into a big bento box for Goro to take back (he was not made aware of this bento box just yet). The mysterious, dense ball of matter that Goro had made was squirreled away for safekeeping. 

The ball had come out... remarkably solid. Consuming it required copious amounts of gnawing that had his jaw aching, so Akira was forced to set it aside for later. He'd also had to nibble on it in secret, because the second Goro had seen that thing he'd raised a ruckus about throwing it into the trash where it belonged, and only turning the television on to Feathermen had distracted him enough with a new ruckus to raise that allowed Akira to sneak off with his prize. Maybe this ball, larger than his hand, would grow mushier with time. Like a grape. One could only hope it might someday reach a stage of semi-edibility. 

Also squirreled away, flush against his heart, was the quiet joy of having someone finally enjoy his cooking. 

Happiness was tasty. 

•••

ITEMS GET!! Leftovers

★★★★★

Lots of leftover yaki-onigiri. Looks like you'll have to postpone your daily melonpan for a little while, huh?

•••

Come evening, Akira sent Goro off with the bento box of yaki-onigiri. He'd had Goro leave earlier than when they usually went their respective ways in the woods, lest Goro be forced to navigate the mountainside in the dark, which could be treacherous terrain to navigate without light. Tree roots and cliff sides and loose rocks abound and aplenty! More than one person had been reported missing, only to be found months later at the bottom of a sheer drop sprouting fungi. 

The persnickety subject of hugs was still on Akira's mind while he stood outside on the doorstep, the muggy evening air simultaneously soaking and steaming his skin dry and sticky, and in front of him was Goro, inspecting the bento box with squinty suspicion. Paranoia was par for the course when it came to Goro and food. His reaction to hugs, on the other hand... Had that been considered par for the course? It had proven to be hugely consequential and catastrophic. Akira sort of feared what new catastrophic consequences might be wrought with a repeat incident. 

"'kay!" Akira clapped his hands. The sudden, sharp sound seemed to sluice through what had been a lazy sunset ambience. 

It also startled Goro out of his investigation of the underside of the bento box. "What? What is it?" In retrospect, to Goro, that clap really had come out of nowhere. 

"You're going now."

"Huh? I am? I mean, I was already going to, but you don't have to boss me aro—"

"Bye-bye, birdy!" Instead of hugging Goro the way Akira really, really wanted to—because hugs were on his mind, and he wasn't able to stop thinking about how nice it'd felt—he settled for softly headbutting him the way cats did when overwhelmed with contentment. 

"Y-You—You—" This still had the alarming effect of flustering Goro to the point of stuttering and repeating words, like a skipping CD. He'd nearly dropped the bento box, which—not really the most durable thing on the planet—would have been consequential and catastrophic. At the very least, not hugely so. But it would've cracked open and wasted food, which was certainly a consequence that was catastrophic. 

Well. They had all the time in the world to work their way up to hugs, Akira supposed. 

•••

ITEMS LOSE!! Leftovers

★★★★★

Welp, nevermind. Looks like melonpan's back on the everyday menu. 

•••

It came in the quiet of the night: a shrill, shrieking RING-RING-RING-RING-RING—

"Wallop whatever that is!" Mona demanded. 

Whatever turned out to be the landline, going off the rails with a call. Standing barefoot in the dark of the living room, yearning for the slippers he'd forgotten in his haste, and illuminated solely by weak, barely-there moonlight, Akira held the phone up to his ear. He'd missed the first time, smacking the receiver into his cheek and looking around blearily for the culprit. The second time, he just about barely lined everything up nice and proper.  

What was one supposed to say in a situation like this? 

"Hello?" 

That seemed about right.

"Akira? Is that you?" Goro's lovely, honey voice crackled over the line, sounding a lot like how pop rocks felt on the tongue. 

"Goro!" Akira exclaimed. In his shock, he nearly dropped the phone he'd exerted so much effort to line up. Cue clumsy fumbling, which undoubtedly translated into a hideous racket for Goro to endure on the other end. "I can't wallop you!"

A dragonfire sigh dominated the line. "What is it with you and walloping innocents? And what was that? Did you drop the phone?"

A million questions were running through Akira's head. He picked one at random. "Birdy, you know my number?"

"It's not like it was hard to find," scoffed Goro's voice. His scoff sounded even sharper than it did in person. The phone had him sounding tinny, flinty, and jagged. "All I had to do was pull out the phone book and look up your family's number."

"Ohhh, right." Phone books did indeed exist. 

A soft silence settled over the line. Eyes having adjusted to the minimal lighting, Akira studied how his living room looked in the dark. It was fascinating how what was once so yellow and bright could now look so blue and shadowy—eerie, almost, when one looked at misleading shadows from the corners of one's eyes. He toyed with the loopty-loops of the telephone's coiled cord and shifted from foot to foot. The floorboards, previously ice-cold, had warmed up the tiniest bit. 

Goro broke the silence to complain. Of course. "You sound different."

"Probably because I just woke up," Akira said innocently and not snarkily in the slightest. "In the middle of the night." Zero snark here. "It was very sudden." Absolutely snarkless. 

"If you're trying to get to something, A-kira, just say it out loud. Subtleties are lost on you."

"I'm not getting at anything."

"It's probably the phone," Goro posited, clearly giving up on acknowledging Akira's snark, or lack thereof. "People always sound different over phones and in recordings. If you were to meet a beloved actor from television in-person, you'd be shocked at how much worse they might sound. How much worse they'd look, too. It's easy to mask oneself through technology. With phones, there's no face to be burdened by, so you can pretend to be anything and anyone. Then, even with TV, there are filters and edits, along with the natural blur of camera quality. Did you know—there was once an actress renowned as a great beauty when, in actuality, she had deep pits marring the face that brought her millions? Her husband had to engineer a special camera lens just to obscure her faults and fool the public. Isn't that troublesome? In all mediums, humans crave acknowledgement, but cower from true recognition." 

Had Goro gone through the trouble of excavating Akira's number and rousing him awake at an utterly obscene hour just to gripe about humanity again? What an... interesting upgrade to their relationship. "Wow. That's. Great."

"Are you aware that you're always in a foul mood when you've just woken up, Akira?"

"No." Akira didn't feel very foul, just very woozy. "I don't know. Goro, why're we..." How to put this... "Why are you... um..." 

"Why did I call you?" Goro saved him the toothache of fumbling his words. "I wanted to see if I could."

That sure was something. "Have you seen enough now?"

"Yes. I've determined that this is an acceptable avenue for communication. I'll call you at a better time in the future, when you're less moody."

"I'm not moody," Akira argued, a bit moodily. 

"I'm hanging up now," Goro warned. "You need the sleep, I'm sure. Don't forget—you have to exchange goodbyes to conclude a call."

"Okay, then," Akira obliged. "Bye-bye, birdy." 

Goro's voice was softer than dandelions. "Goodnight, cat."

The line fizzled out. 

Moving proved to be a mistake. The world smeared itself into a mess of shadows as Akira flailed atop numb feet. His head felt light as a pound of air one second, then heavy as a bundle of bricks the next second, leaving him wobbling around, top heavy and bobble-headed. It took a great deal of blinking and breathing for vision to return to him, then a great deal more for the phone to click back into its cradle, instead of clanking onto the table or the floor. After carefully reviewing his situation, Akira elected to spend the night on the couch. Even though it was cold and leathery, it was a familiar bed. Many nights had been spent snoozing in a half-asleep state on slowly warming leather, the curtains pulled back to frame the moon in whatever state of dress it had chosen for that date. 

Besides, Mona was here, too. 

"What did your rival want?" Mona's curious eyes reflected silvery glints of moonlight. 

The leather couch creaked and squeaked with every movement Akira made as he curled up comfortably by his friend's side. "Nothing, really."

[repairgirl]

14. happy birthday, repair boy

word count: 2.6k

t/w: cursing, lots of angst

You put the last of the decorations up, taking a breath of relief for the first time in forever. The gang had offered to set up early with you, and of course, being the wonderful mom and hostess she is, Sally Jackson was more than eager to help around and lend her house as the party spot. Orange and black streamers and balloons hung from the ceiling, both of Leo’s favorite colors. The blue cake Percy had made was the centerpiece of the perfectly made table, with “Happy Birthday Repair Boy” in Piper’s messy handwriting written on it. Everything was perfect, except for one thing— your rocky “friendship” with Leo.

“How much longer till he’s here?” Piper asked. “He just thinks you guys are having a boys' game night, right?”

Percy nodded. “He’s only expecting Jason, Frank, and I. I can’t wait to see the look on his face.”

“Ten minutes,” Jason chimed in. “He just texted the group chat.”

“Ten minutes,” you repeated, mumbling under your breath. Ten minutes to pull yourself together, act normal, and put on a face for everyone.

The only person who seemed to notice your anxiety was Annabeth.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked, resting a hand on your back and leading you over to where Percy was sitting on the couch.

“I’m fine. Just worried,” you sighed. “How are we supposed to be normal in front of fifty people when we can’t even be normal when we’re alone?”

“I promise it will be okay,” she reassured. “You don’t have to put on a face for me, or anyone. Speak your truth, and if things get too hard, we can just escape to Percy’s room. Right, Percy?”

Percy grinned. “Of course, y/n. And if he does something to hurt you again, I’ll drown him next time he takes a bath.”

Annabeth smacked him. “Don’t say that!”

You smiled for the first time since getting to the party. “Thanks, Mom and Dad.”

Percy ruffled your hair, and Annabeth wrapped you in a side hug. “Of course, babe.”

Just then, a ring was heard at the doorbell.

“Quick, everyone hide!” Piper yelled. People scrambled, and Sally hit the lights as she opened the door for Leo.

“Um, hello?” he said, walking into the apartment.

“SURPRISE!” everyone shouted at once, turning the lights on to reveal the amazing setup. “Happy birthday, Leo!”

Leo put his hands to his heart dramatically. “Wow, all of this, just for little old me?”

“Unfortunately, we do care about you,” Frank replied, rolling his eyes. Hazel just giggled.

“Of course you do, of course you do,” Leo encouraged. “And who is responsible for all of this?”

Annabeth pushed you towards him. “Y/n is. She planned the whole thing and decorated the whole place. We just assisted.”

You stuck your tongue out back at her. “Give yourself and Percy some credit, Wise Girl. It wasn’t all me.”

“Wow, really?” Leo said, taking a step towards you, and looking you in the eyes for the first time in what felt like ages. “Thank you, y/n. I mean really, thank you. This is incredible.”

You smiled and wrapped him in a hug, finally feeling okay. His warm embrace brought a familiar red blush to your face, an embrace you haven’t felt in so long. A wash of relief filled your body and you never wanted to let go.

Leo pulled away and locked eyes with you. “I’m sorry for being weird. There’s just been so much stuff going on, and I’ve been really confused about my feelings lately, and I’m working on building a new project, which is stressing me out, and—”

Cutting him off, you hugged him again, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your head in his shoulder, nearly knocking him over.

“Shut up, repair boy. It’s okay.”

“It’s okay?”

“Yeah.”

“And we’re okay?”

“Yeah.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist, and everyone cheered.

“Fucking FINALLY!” Piper yelled. “Now, let’s get this party started!”

Being in a whole new headspace, the party was a blast. Piper blared Top 40’s hits and set up pong in the kitchen while the boys really did play video games in the Percy’s room. In addition to the seven, Nico, Will, and Rachel, just about everyone showed up. Reyna, Thalia, Nyssa, Connor, Travis, and even Grover made a surprise guest appearance from his world environmentalist tour. Percy was thrilled and tackled him in a hug upon his arrival (Sally, unphased, knew all along).

The night got even better when you were sitting on the couch, absentmindedly scrolling through TikTok when Leo joined you, plopping right next to you.

“Hey mamacita,” he said, casually putting his arm around you and filling you with that oh-so-familiar butterfly feeling. Everything was finally as it should be. But surely, things couldn’t be that easy. Could they?

You smiled, your nose crinkling. “What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing, just the fact that my best friend in the whole world hasn’t personally wished me a happy birthday yet. I am eighteen now, you know. Can do legal adult things like…uh… sending you to jail for this.”

You playfully punched him in the arm. “Eighteen is when you can go to jail, not send people to jail, you dork. And, I planned and threw this whole thing, just for you. Is that not ‘happy birthday’ enough?”

Leo raised an eyebrow. “Nuh-uh. Not until I explicitly hear it from you and you only.”

“Happy birthday, drama queen,” you replied, smiling. “But if you had been patient enough to wait, you would have heard me say it upon giving you your gift.”

His ears immediately perked up. “Gift?”

“Yes, stupid.”

He inched closer to you, his face a mere inches from yours. “Why can’t I have it now?”

You pushed him away by the chest, giggling. Doing that delicate dance of friends-but-not, just like you used to.

“You are literally two years old. I’m giving it to you along with everyone else, later. Promise it’s worth it.”

He sighed, defeated. “Whatever you say.”

Just then, you heard a noise behind you.

“Psst!”

You glanced around, seeing where it came from. Across the room was Piper, frantically gesturing for you to go over to her. You rolled your eyes in fake annoyance.

“Looks like I’m being paged. Catch you later, repair boy,” you said, heading over to her. “Hey, Pipes. What’s up?”

She linked her arm with yours. “Come play pong with the girls and me.”

She led you over to the pong table, where Annabeth and Hazel were already set up.

“Us versus them,” Piper explained. “First to get plastered beyond comprehension wins.”

You grinned. “I’m in.”

The game started, with Hazel missing and Annabeth landing her ball perfectly in you and Piper’s cup, pumping her fist in the air. The game progressed, and after ten minutes or so, everyone was just tipsy enough to be giggly and bad at the game. But for the group of girls that consisted of your best friends, something seemed off.

“We’re awfully quiet,” you retorted. “What, am I in trouble or something?”

Hazel sighed, putting both of her hands on the table in a serious manner and locking eyes with you. “Y/N. You know we love you very much, right?”

Almost immediately, you sobered up. “Oh god. This isn’t an intervention, is it?”

“No, no, no!” Annabeth clarified. “Nothing like that. It’s just, um,”

“Were you really planning on forgiving him that quickly?” Piper blurted.

You threw your hands up in frustration. “I thought you guys were JUST telling me to try and move on and not let things get to me!”

“We were!” Hazel replied. “It’s just that things just seemed to happen a little quick. That’s all.”

She came over to put a hand on your shoulder. “We just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Girls, I am TOTALLY fine,” you insisted. “I’m not falling again. We’re just friends. Like we used to be.”

Annabeth and Hazel exchanged nervous glances, but Piper seemed satisfied with that answer. She squeezed your hand.

“Okay, babes. Whatever you say.”

Just then, Percy walked over from his bedroom where the boys were playing Mario Kart, Jason, Nico, Will, Leo, Grover, and the Stolls trailing behind him like baby ducklings. He clapped his hands obnoxiously. “Presents time! Circle ‘round.”

You and the girls giggled as you walked over, making a circle on the fuzzy blue rug in the living room like you were all in elementary school again. Everyone grabbed their gifts and got situated, Leo squishing on one side of you and Piper on the other.

Leo rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “It’s about time! I want Y/N’s first,” he stated.

“No way,” Piper retorted. “Save the best for last.” She stuck her tongue out at him.

“I hate you.”

“I hate you back.”

The night progressed as Leo opened gifts from everyone, perfectly reflecting their friendships. Percy got him a waterproof pocket multi-tool, Piper got him a shirt with a ‘your mom’ joke on it (which Leo loved and laughed hysterically at, don’t worry), Annabeth got him a giant architect’s book of blueprints for projects they could work on together, Frank got him mints that supposedly lower your voice (no surprise there), and so on. Finally, it was your turn.

You were feeling a thousand different emotions— anxiety, excitement, nervousness, anticipation, fear, and so many more. Trying not to let any of these emotions show, you handed him your bag, drunkenly rambling about the present inside.

“So, I know I’m not as good at making things as you, but I really did try, and you might think it’s stupid, and—”

He cut you off, flashing that warm smile that made the butterflies in your stomach flutter every time. “Y’n. I’m sure it’s perfect. Nothing to worry about.”

Your shoulders sagged and you sighed in relief, but the relief was only temporary. Right as his hand was on the first bit of wrapping paper, ready to grab and open it, a ring was heard at the door.

Percy frowned, getting up to answer it. “We weren’t expecting anyone else. Give me a second,” he said.

Before opening the door he glanced in the peephole, and upon lifting his head away from the door, he looked sick. His face was almost as green as Poseidon’s seaweed castle.

Anxiously, he waved Annabeth over. She peered into the peephole the same way he did, looking equally as nauseous afterward.

The two whisper-shouted nervously, causing you to hear mumbles of “What the hell are we supposed to do?”, and, “We can’t just leave her there, can we?”

Piper and Annabeth locked eyes, and you could tell a silent understanding passed between them. You felt like everyone in the room knew who was at the door except for you.

Annabeth sighed. “Just open it, Percy. What else can we do?”

Nothing on earth could have prepared you for who was at the door. There she was, wearing a beautiful white gown that was way too dressy for the event, her silky caramel hair pulled back into a braided bun. And worst of all, she was carrying the perfect gift: a stuffed animal replica of Festus. Why hadn’t you thought of that?

All of your worst insecurities encapsulated into a single person: Calypso.

Your jaw dropped to the floor.

Before anyone could say anything, she made her grand entrance.

“Surprise! I’ve come to celebrate my favorite boy’s birthday!” she shouted.

Leo immediately shot up. “Calypso, w-what are you doing here?”

She smiled an evil smirk. “I told you I’d be in town, didn’t I? How could I resist saying hi to you? I just want to make up, repair boy!”

“How’d you know where we were?” Percy growled.

She batted her eyelashes, attempting to put a spell on him. It didn’t work. “Don’t you remember, Perce? Me and you, we used to have a thing. Back in the day. Before she came along,” she sneered, giving Annabeth a nasty look.

Percy had to physically restrain her. “Oh, it is on.”

“Calypso, no one wants you here,” Frank chimed in. “Just leave.”

You stood up, fuming and gaining a sense of self-respect for the first time since she arrived.

“Are we sure no one wants her here?” you said, stepping towards Leo, ready to let everything loose you had been holding in for the past few weeks.

Hazel tugged at your shirt, looking up at you anxiously. “Y/N, you’re drunk. Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

You pushed her hand away. “No, Hazel. I need to do this.”

Leo nervously glanced at you. “What do you mean, y/n?” he said, stuttering his words.

“Clearly, you’d want her here at least a little bit, considering you’ve been talking to her and entertaining her behind my back. For weeks, now.”

Everyone gasped, and Piper’s hand loudly flew over her mouth.

“How did you know that?” Leo asked, inching away from you.

You stepped closer to him. “Oh, so it is true. So even when I’ve done everything for you, done nothing but be there and support you always, and take you back a million times, you’d still choose her over me? Really?”

“Y/N, it’s not like that, really, I promise, I told her no, it’s—”

“Oh, and I can’t forget,” you said, glancing at Percy and Annabeth, “I had to find out from other people. Friends who actually care about me. Since my so-called best friend couldn’t be bothered to.”

Leo’s eyes widened. “Percy? Really? C’mon, man!”

Percy put his hands up in defense. “If two of my friends are fighting, I’m always going to be on the side of the friend that’s being less shitty.”

Annabeth nodded in agreement. “And for all of the emotional damage you’ve caused her, it’s pretty clear to see who’s the shitty one.”

Leo put his head in his hands. From the doorway, Calypso giggled, enjoying all the chaos she had just caused. You had forgotten she was even there.

You walked over to her. “And don’t even get me started on you,” you growled. “Do you really think you can just march back into his life like no time has passed? Where were you when he was crying to us every day of spring break, heartbroken over your sorry ass? And now you show your face for the first time in months on his fucking birthday? Has anyone ever told you no in your entire life?”

Her face turned pale, but her fear was only temporary, and she regained her arrogant confidence within a matter of seconds.

“Of course I can do whatever I want,” she claimed. “And I’ll prove it right now. So Leo, do us a favor and make this easy for all of us and choose, in front of everyone: me, or her?”

It was so silent you could hear a pin drop. No one dared make a noise, for fear of getting caught in the crossfire.

Leo’s eyes darted between the two of you, unable to say a word. “I—”

“Save it,” you said, grabbing your bag and the gift with it and getting ready to go. “I’m done hearing your sorry excuses. Because right now, Leo Valdez, you and I are done.”

With that, you ran out the door and into the apartment hallway, ignoring Piper, Hazel, and Annabeth’s cries asking you to wait. You blared music in your ears, muting your notifications getting on the nearest train, and doing whatever possible to get home as quickly as possible. As soon as you were in your cozy apartment, you collapsed on your bed, alone for the first time in forever.

And then you cried.

yours truly || leo valdez x fem!reader smau

a/n: and there it is!! i know this chapter is lowkey corny and SO cinematic but I couldn’t help doing so for the big buildup. i hope you enjoy!!!

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leo taglist: @slytherindaughterofposeidon0​ @persephil​ @mmmelanie-blog1​ @blue-violin​ @goldengoddess​ @dee-zbignuts​ @animes-trash​ @vintagebitc @nottherealslimshady​ @vermilioneyess​

yours truly taglist: @itsnottilly​ @togethcr @katrin-okay​ @officialfictionalwreck​ @sunshineandshadowss​ @the-swageyama-tobiyolo​ @lilredpanda29​ @goldengoddess​ @dee-zbignuts​ @animes-trash​ @toffytastee @marshmallow12435​ @dont-get-upset​ @cellias​ @breadbrobin​ @didi073 @haox​ @broadwayismydrug​ @burrito-fight​