#written at 3 a.m

[ayameakuma]

Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom Theory/Analysis/Rant?kinda

Since there is like 2 or so more months till Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom is out and, since I saw a lot of people debating the name/logo/what will be the story/involvement of the Zonai Tribe (*insert Zonai Swirl meme here*) I wanna put my own two cents in here, so here goes nothing:

First, the Logo:

This thing made people on the internet (as far as I've seen) think this might be the end of the Zelda Timeline and take the 2 Dragons circling each other as confirmation that the timeline runs in a loop, an eternal samsara if you will.

I think that this isn't the case.

Usually, when it comes to the ouroboros symbol, the snake or dragon eats its own tail, and this doesn't seem to be the case here. The mouths of the 2 dragons are closed, and they appear to just chase after each other. In this case, instead of the symbol of a loop, the ouroboros might take onto the meaning of harmony.

Since there are two dragons there, it could mean two entities need to find harmony. This is also very much supported by this screenshot:

Look behind the logo.

We see the new God? Entity? Creature? - whoever the hell that is together with who I assume is Zelda. It could imply that the two need to find a way to work in harmony to defeat Ganondorf. This is also mirrored by Link and his new arm since they also need to work in harmony to fulfill their role as the Hero. And, because Nintendo loves the number three, Zelda and Link themselves need to work together to solve whatever is happening in Tears of the Kingdom.

Again, this logo is more about harmony rather than a never-ending loop.

But, the main question I ask myself when I look at the logo is: Why dragons? Why is the logo depicted with dragons? And why two of them?

Well, the answer has to do with the Zonai, a barbaric (were they really?) tribe who is behind a lot of the old structures around Hyrule, as well as being, apparently, very technologically advanced if we are to think that the monsters from the trailers (blocky moster and the one that looked like a one eyed mechanical cyclops) and the weapons shown (flamethrower, homming arrows and the canon that shoots out balls of evergy) are made by them.

And yet, every piece of lore about them says that they are "barbarians" or a "barbaric tribe." I will go on with this later but remeber one thing: the history is always written by the ones that survive the wars or cataclysmic situations.

Either way, back on track, the Zonai Tribe had three types of animal like structures they probably worshiped because the animals represented the Triforce:

1. The Boar/Pig structures most likely represent the Triforce of Power. This could also allude to Ganon's monster forms as they, usually, resemble a pig or a boar. (Also, as a side note, in the Farore Region, where you find the most Zonai ruins, the boar/pig statues are either buried in the earth or broken, so it is most likely they haven't had the same faith in them compared to the other two)

2. The Owl, which represents the Triforce of Wisdom. The owl is a symbol of wisdom and spiritual awakening, as well as a very intelligent animal in and of itself, which fits the bill for the mascot Wisdom. The bearer of the Triforce of Wisdom is always the reincarnation of Goddess Hylia. (Funnily enough, Typhlo Ruins, the ruins that are always shrouded in darkness in BoTW are full of torches in the form of the Owl structures from the Zonai Tribe. And owls are nocturnal animals.)

3. The Dragon, which represents the Triforce of Courage. Yes, you read it correctly. The Dragon represents the Triforce of Courage, aka the Hero of Hyrule, Link. Rather than being an animal/creature that represents courage, in this case, I think it refers to those who can face a dragon without backing down being called courageous. You know, like in fairytales where the Hero faces against the evil dragon and defeats it. After all, having courage doesn't mean not fearing anything; rather, it's about doing something in spite of the fear you feel. (On top of that, since the Faron Region is said to be the place where the Zonai Tribe lived before, you can tell that they were the most likely to be followers of the Dragon, aka the representation of Courage; that leaves the Sheika Tribe as the followers of the Owl, Wisdom and the Yiga Tribe as the followers of the Boar/Pig, the Power.)

Now that we have established this, let's look again at the logo:

Two green dragons chasing after each other in an attempt to create harmony... and everything in this logo is green, the color we associate with the Goddess of Courage Faroure. But, if Link, as the barer of the Triforce of Courage, is one of the green dragons, does this mean the other is the Goddess of Courage herself? Or is it someone else?

We will come back to this a bit later. For now, let's move on, onto the title:

Second, the Title:

We know that the producer of the Legend of Zelda Tears of the Kingdom, Eiji Aonuma, said that the title would be a huge spoiler. However, the way I see people look at it, they don't consider the title a spoiler, but the logo. Which, given the previous games in the franchise, it is a bit wrong to do.

Here are some examples:

Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess

The logo has the Wolf and the Fused Shadow silhouettes behind the text, but the title in itself alludes to, arguably the most important character in the game, Midna.

Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask

The Logo has the Majora's Mask itself, but the title not only gives us the name of the Mask but also the name of the villain in that specific game.

Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword

The Logo shows us the symbol that is now arguably the symbol of Hyrule itself, but the title tells us about a sword, which is later revealed to be the soon-to-become Master Sword that we know today.

As you can see, every single title does have something to do with the plot, and it is, in retrospect, a big spoiler. The Logos are a lot more vague about what they portray, especially since we don't know the names of the items shown before we play the games. (Who knew what the Fused Shadow was when they saw the silhouette in the logo?)

Regardless, when it comes to Tears of the Kingdom, things are indeed a bit vague. Since it was confirmed that "Tears" refers to actual teardrops, we can assume that it could have something to do with the Silent Realms in Skyward Sword where you will get Sacred Tears so you can forge the Master Sword. This makes a whole lot of sense when you see that in the Logo for Tears of the Kingdom, the Master Sword second half seems to be made of a green substance while the first half seems to be very damaged. (And we know that will most likely be a part of our quest from the trailers)

The problem I find with the title is the second part. "Kingdom." What Kingdom? We know this game happens at best, maybe 6 months after BoTW. Hyrule Kingdom is definitely not recreated overnight; nothing seems to have been worked on at all. So the question is "why call that a Kingdom?"

In BoTW, after you meet with the King at the Temple of Time at the beginning of the game, he says, "I was King Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule. I was... the last leader of Hyrule. A kingdom which no longer exists."

So, if the Hyrule Kingdom no longer exists following the Calamity from 100 years ago... why is it called a kingdom now? Just because Zelda is alive, that doesn't mean the Kingdom is back, especially since all the Hylians are scattered around Hyrule and the only parts of the Royal Family and the Knight order remaining are Zelda and Link.

To answer this question, I need you to think back to the two dragons on the logo. If one is Link, why couldn't the other one be Link too, but from 10,100 years ago, the Hero that sealed Calamity Ganon first alongside that time's Zelda.

This is the tapestry that spoke of the first sealing of Calamity Ganon. This depiction of Link is very strange, though. Full of bluish-green around him, red hair and a golden arm that holds a sword.

Dosen't it remind you of this?

It is a bit of a stretch, but if the developers went for minimalism, then the golden ornaments around the arm could be the reason why the Hero's arm is golden in the tapestry.

Also, before you say something about Zelda, look here, outside of the power of the Goddess and her hair, her hands and face are a similar color of red like that Hero's face, legs and OTHER ARM. Meaning only one of his arms is golden in color.

Which brings me to the whole Harmony symbolism again. Link's arm is definently damaged beyond repair, so now he gets a new one, one that possibly belonged or was powered by the energy of the Hero from 10,100 years ago. So they need to find a balance and coexist to defeat Ganondorf.

So while the word "Tears" refers to what Link has to collect to repair the Master Sword this time, maybe the word "Kingdom" refers to the place where the green energy comes from initially aka the Kingdom of Hyrule from 10,100 years ago when they used, what is most likely, Zonai Magic to help defeat Calamity Ganon and seal him? This would certainly spoil a lot of the game if it is true, so maybe this is it.

But there are still some other mysteries I wanna touch on next:

The Zonai

As I said before, the Zonai Tribe is considered "barbaric" in nature, but there is a high chance they were behind the mechanics and weapons we have seen for Tears of the Kingdom so far. So why are they "barbaric"? Well, remember when I said, "History is written by the survivors"?

What if the Zonai were eliminated in that battle against Calamity Ganon? They could have lived in Hyrule for a whole millennia before that battle, which is how their structures are older than the Sheika Shrines and the like. There is also the fact that rather than being constructed for that time's hero, the Sheika Shrines we know in BoTW were made after the sealing of Calamity Ganon as tests for the future Hero who will have to seal Ganon again.

This way, we can confirm how Sheika Shrines ended up in Zonai made ruins (aka Typhlo Ruins). The shrines were erected after the fall of the Zonai. This means the Guardians and the 4 Divine Beats were constructed first.

But the question still remains: Why are the Zonai not mentioned in the History of Hyrule if they helped with the first Calamity Ganon?

Welp, there could be that the Zonai never really interacted with the people, thus making them seem "barbaric" and "unapproachable" for the Royal Family (of which we know has done some pretty stupid/dark stuff in past games) so they decided to not put them in the history books, thus they were forgotten.

And I can already hear you: "What about that time's Zelda and Link? Wouldn't they overule this or do something?"

You see, dead people can't complain, can they? We don't know if the Princess Zelda and the Link from that time were still alive after the sealing. For all we know, both could have died sealing Ganondorf underground (like we saw him the in trailers) and the King (cause, let's be honest, the kings of Hyrule have done some pretty shady or stupid stuff in the past) of that time decided to just go with making his daughter and the soldier that was with her into heroes in the Kingdom and let's the Zonai, a Tribe he couldn't control nor truly talk with, fade from the history.

Also, I said "soldier" and not "personal guard" like the legends about that time said about Link. Why? Welp, the tapestry.

Red hair Link... is not really likely right?

He is always blonde haired, at least in all the games we have right now. So why is he depicted with red hair, when Zelda has blonde hair in the Taspestry? Welp.

The Barabrian set, specifically the Barbarian Helm.

Red hair is overshadowing the blonde hair of Link, so there is a possibility that the Hero of that time was wearing a Barbarian Armor Set in battle. But it's a bit strange since... well, this is the compendium description of the helmet.

"A helmet once worn by the warriors of an ancient warlike tribe from the Faron region."

Why would the Hero wear a warrior set that is solely worn by a Tribe of the Faron region? Maybe because he was part of it.

Think about it. The Zonai were followers of the Dragon that represented the Triforce of Courage to them. Wouldn't it make sense for the Hero to be born in this Tribe?

And since Link and Zelda of that time had to work together to seal Ganondorf, the Hyrule Royal Family of that time couldn't ignore the existence of the Hero. So, instead of making Link as a part of the Zonai Tribe like he was at the time, the Royal Family made him into the personal guard of the Princess in the story, while people could explain the tapestry as an armour set that existed long ago and was worn by the Hero in combat (when the events were still fresh in the minds of people) or worn paper in the current time of Breath of the Wild.

The Mysterious Figure

This is the figure I meant.

Welp, she is definently not Zelda from 10,100 years ago, so maybe a Zonai depiction of Hylia. Cause well, she is apparently on a pedestal high in the sky, if those are clouds.

Also, notice that there are seven swirls around her. Maybe the tears we need to collect? Or maybe a depiction of the Seven Sages in Zelda? Who knows, but it is worth mentioning that this figure is seen intertwining hands with a depiction of Zelda behind the Logo.

The "Zelda" shown in the last trailer

This will be the last part of this long-ass rant/analysis/theory thingy I made so here we go.

This may not be our Zelda. At least not this timeline's Zelda.

Look a bit at the dress she is wearing. The blocky symbols and that eye towards the bottom of the dress are not of Sheikan origin. Which most likely means it is from the Zonai Tribe. I can’t put any more images, but there is a new eye symbol that is present on a new shield. An eye that is looking up and has five droplets falling from it. Just like this eye symbol that has five tassels attached to it.

And, if you wanna argue that it could be Hylia, look at the figure from the drawing above. The clothing is extremely intricate and very well detailed, but you don't see an eye with five droplets or tassels hanging from it on the clothing, right? Even tho the other details are so clear on the figure.

So, either this is the Princess from 10,100 years ago who fought together with the soldier from the Zonai Tribe that became the Hero, or our Zelda gets a Zonai get up from somewhere, cause the background reminds me of the Time Gates from Skyward Sword.

At this point, we don't have a clue and this is PURE SPECULATION.

So, if you read till now, congratulations! Hope you enjoyed my zainy ideas and theories for Tears of the Kingdom.

Tell me if you agree or disagree with anything here cause I am curious about your opinion on his.

Hope to see you guys again soon! (I WILL TRY to be more active)

P.S: If anything from here becomes reality, I called it, and I am gonna be so proud of what my brain came up with at 3 a.m. in the morning.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 115

Part 1 Part 114

Will could tell they were coming well before his bedroom door opened, both their presences shining like a beacon, brighter and brighter the closer they came.

It’s still a surprise to see their faces. Eddie looks excited enough to be verging on manic, the same way he does when there’s a particularly juicy twist in a campaign he’s been planning out. In contrast, Steve looks almost grave. Not worried, but something serious in the slant of his mouth as Eddie tugs him inside and shuts the door.

“What’s going on?” Will asks, looking between the pair for clues, and finding none.

“Nothing serious,” Steve replies. He commandeers Will’s desk chair while Eddie flops into the bed beside Will, wriggling around until he’s stollen all the covers and wrapped them around himself like a human burrito.

“We’ve just got something to tell ya,” Eddie continues, beaming up at Will.

Neither of them continues, so Will looks back and forth between them. Eddie’s eyes are downright twinkling, while Steve stares at the side of Eddie’s head, glaring.

“Fine,” Steve grumbles, finally turning to meet Will’s eyes. “Eddie and I are dating.”

Will nods, maintaining eye contact as he waits for Steve to keep talking. He doesn’t. “That’s it?”

Eddie squawks,  slithering up in bed, still so swaddled in blankets that he looks formless. “What do you mean, that’s it?” he demands, elbowing Will in the ribs, but it’s through all the blankets so Will barely feels it.

“Weren’t you guys already dating?”

Eddie’s mouth is hanging open, formless consonants leaking out of him. Steve steeples his fingers and leans forward, elbows on knees.

“It’s just, Eddie said—”

Eddie wriggles his arm free just in time to slap it over Will’s mouth with an awkward laugh. “Shut, up, Baby Byers,” he hisses, a faux smile on his face.

Steve leans back in the chair, lets his hands land loosely on the armrests. He’s smirking like there’s a canary in his mouth, and for the first time, Will can almost see the cool guy everyone acts like Steve is.

Not the real kind of cool that Steve actually is, but the kind who’d throw parties, and sit on a high school throne he hadn’t even built himself.

“What did you say, Eddie?” he asks, still smirking, and oh, is this flirting?

Will contorts his body until he’s free of Eddie’s silencing hand. “He said he was in love with you,” Will says.

Eddie sags into himself with a groan, burying his face into the blanket he’s still wrapped in. He looks like a pill bug, the only flesh visible a little bit of one of his ankles. Will pokes it and Eddie jerks, raising his head just enough to pout at Will.

“Is that so,” Steve says, but it’s not phrased like a question. Will answers it anyway.

“He said you looked like an angel in the Upside-Down, when we saw all those lights at my house for the first time?” Will feels his own face blushing as he remembers the way the lights had shone down on Steve, painted him in gold like it was his birthright.

Steve’s not smirking anymore, he’s gone all weird and gooey in the face. It only gets worse when Eddie makes a whining noise.

“Is that where the nickname came from?” he mutters quietly enough that it barely carries to Will’s ears. When Steve starts speaking again, it’s at his normal volume. “Wait, where was I for this?”

Eddie sits up at that, uncocooning himself enough to free his arms but keeping it over his head like an extremely unfashionable cloak.

“Uh…” he starts, shifting forward to stare into Steve’s eyes. “You were possessed?”

Steve grimaces, and all Kingly posturing falls away as he slumps back into the chair, crossing his arms in a way that looks more like a hug. Eddie must think so, too, because he latches onto Steve’s pantleg with grabby fingers and pulls until Steve settles onto Will’s bed with them.

“Were there any witnesses to this little declaration?” Steve asks, not meeting anyone’s eyes.

“Just Mom and Uncle Wayne,” Will replies.

Steve nods, slow as he meets Will’s gaze. “…and your Mom was.”

“She doesn’t care,” Will cuts in. Steve lets out a relieved breath that Will feels in his bones. He’d felt that worry when she’d let out a shocked gasp at Eddie’s declaration, had felt it wither away when he’d seen her hopeful face. “She just wanted you back.”

“We all did,” Eddie cuts in, throwing his stolen blanket over Steve’s shoulders, Will nestled between them both. “And we thought maybe trying to reach you in there would work?”

Steve laughs, but it’s all wet and choked up in itself. “And you said you were in love with me?” Steve asks. He reaches around Will to smooth down Eddie’s mussed bangs, the one cheek Will can see from his angle turning a light pink. “That’s so embarrassing for you.”

Eddie grumbles but leans into Steve’s touch all the time. “Well, it worked, didn’t it?” he asks. “We could feel you in there. You must’ve heard us.”

Will cranes himself away to look at Steve’s face, compromising the integrity of their ramshackle blanket fort enough that he tears it off Eddie and Steve entirely.

Steve doesn’t seem to have even noticed. His eyes are distant, glazed over like he’s looking at something else entirely.

Will never wants to see that distance on Steve Harrington’s face ever again, not after black smoke and a Steve that isn’t, so he tugs on their connection, and he comes back alive.

“I think I heard some of it?” he says, holding the palm of his hand to his ear like he’s listening to the ocean. He goes distant again, but Will’s pretty sure he’s just trying to remember, so he resists the temptation to pull him free. “What did everyone else say?”

Eddie reaches out and links his pinkie with Steve’s. “Oh, the same sappy shit we’ve all said to your face,” Eddie replies, but he’s smiling. “Baby Byers acted like it was his job to save you, and fawned over you like you’re some goddamn action hero.”

“Hey!” Will cries, but Steve’s laughing, so he doesn’t mind, especially not when Steve tugs on him this time, beaming at him like he’s a revelation.

“Uncle Wayne, the cantankerous old man that he is, said you were like a son to him.”

“Mom just asked you to come home,” Will cuts in. Steve’s eyes are shining.

“And I declared my undying love to you in front of all and sundry,” Eddie finishes, rearranging their linked pinkies so he can tangle the rest of their fingers together as well.

“You’re all so embarrassing,” Steve says, but he reaches out and bully’s Will into his arms. Eddie, never one to turn down a hug, worms his way into the situation immediately and applies enough pressure to make both their ribs creak.

They stay like that for a long time, until Mom calls, “boys, breakfast!” from somewhere in the house.

Eddie’s the first to let go with a contented sigh, scrabbling up off Will’s. He’s skipped halfway out the door before either of them has even stood up.  

“Has Mama Byers learned to cook since the last time we were here?” Eddie asks, leaning back in to grin cheekily at Will. “I don’t know if I’m in the mood for eggs that are somehow rubbery and watery at the same time.”

Part 116

[anastacialy]

alright that last post had me thinking. i understand a ton of people wish penelope and colin got more screen time directly. believe me, i get that! i am always the first to say we should have gotten ten episodes, not eight, just to let the other plots and especially scenes with colin and penelope breathe a little more. but. i keep hearing a lot about how some of the other plots were "completely unnecessary" and "didn't add any value" and that's just plain incorrect. i think a lot of people who i see saying this just sort of... don't understand? narrative foils?

for those uninitiated, a foil is "a literary device that compares and contrasts one character with another to reveal their traits, values or motivations of one character through the comparison and contrast of another character." think of this like a mirror, or a photo negative.

if you are looking for foils of only penelope and colin, we've got plenty, though many other characters foil each other, too. this is bound to happen naturally in a show with so many characters, but for this post i'll focus on them first and foremost: - the mondriches: many wondered what the point of the mondriches plotline was, and though i simply enjoy having them on my screen, (they are incredibly cute together) their narrative purpose is very clear. their son is now a baron, and they must navigate the world as not someone with title, but as the mother and father of a titled lord. penelope and colin, we learn by the end of the season, also have a son, who will be the new baron featherington. it is the very same solicitor that delivers the news to alice and will, who threatens to take away the chance at keeping the estate from the featheringtons. the titled son plotline was clear from the beginning, though it was a "mystery" which sister would turn out to be the mother of the new lord featherington. (mystery is in quotation marks since i doubt anyone actually believed that it wouldn't be penelope). either way, they are foils to another family, and other main characters.

still, they are not finished in their role, as they also serve to illustrate the struggle of working members of the ton, and the argument to give up a business you love in order to remain in good standing. in this, will is penelope's foil, and alice is colin's. though i love both alice and colin, they initially do not understand what it means to give up something you have worked unbelievably hard for, and see their partners giving up their businesses as the easy, clear choice. alice contrasts colin by winning her argument, and convincing will to let go of his bar. will contrasts penelope in the same way, by letting go of something that was important to him in order to make room for other ventures. while will and alice come to a compromise that prioritizes alice's desires (hosting balls to entertain rather than keeping the bar) penelope and colin come to a compromise that prioritizes penelope's desires (revealing her identity as whistledown and getting permission from the queen to continue writing). yet, both pairs have made the choices that are right for them, and both feel satisfied by the compromises.

and the last note on the mondriches' purpose: they show us what is expected of families of the ton, to inform penelope and colin's arguments later in the show. we are shown alice and will being given separate bedrooms, as many of the other families have been shown to have, though it hasn't been quite as clearly remarked upon until now. in their plotline, it is quite a big deal that they are expected to sleep separately, as they haven't before, and do not wish to now. they ultimately decide that they will share alice's designated room — and later, we see that after they argue, it is likely penelope's room that colin is sleeping in front of, rather than going to (presumably) his own. now, it is unclear whether this was simply a set limitation or not, as we never see an interior of colin's bedroom, but it's likely that he had long since decided they'd be sharing penelope's, as that is the room he chooses to introduce to her in the mirror scene, and the sitting area of that room is where he places his desk, whereas hers is inside the bedroom proper. (we only see this and their drawing room, but i don't doubt that the house is larger than was shown, given the size of both those rooms and the hallways that connect them.) - violet, agatha, and marcus: let's see, a brother and a sister, where the sister's best friend wants to be romantically involved with the brother, and all three of them are being weird about it. now where have i heard that one before? in these moments, agatha is a foil to eloise, marcus to colin, and violet to penelope. through them, we can extrapolate ways eloise may be feeling about penelope and colin's relationship, as violet and agatha talk it out, whereas eliose scampers off to scotland quite quickly. the contrast here is that violet and marcus are very timid and reserved in their relationship until they obtain the 'blessing' of agatha to pursue it, whereas penelope and colin dive headfirst into marriage before eloise and penelope reconcile their damaged friendship. however strangely, though, the foils here seem to swap characters often: marcus also mirrors penelope, as it is him who wronged agatha, not violet. another comparison within these three are violet and agatha mirroring penelope and colin, as violet has to outright state to agatha: "i hope you know that my care for you is not contingent on your aid. i am here for you, agatha, always." which shares a sentiment with what penelope states to colin later: "it is not what you do for me that makes me love you. [...] just being you is enough, colin. i do not need you to save me, i just need you to stand by me." agatha and colin, here, both assume their value lies in what they can do for others, rather than simply being themselves with those closest to them. - benedict, tilley, and paul: what, do you not want to see benedict kiss a guy? the fuck?

[keeps-ache]

souP..

[gottagobuycheese]

A WIP I didn’t end up having time to finish and I’m not sure when it’ll really be “IP” again sdkjfhsk, BUT since it’s still February 15th in some time zone somewhere, HAPPY BIRTHDAY KIM DOKJA!!

[ID: a digital sketch depicting several characters from Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, posing for a photo. A young Kim Dokja lays asleep in a hospital bed in the center of the frame. A slightly older Lee Gilyoung and Shin Yoosung crowd his sides; on Kim Dokja’s right, Lee Gilyoung half-climbs onto the bed to rest his elbow on Kim Dokja’s shoulder, while on his left, Shin Yoosung kneels beside the bed and rests her hand on Kim Dokja’s arm. In front of her, Yoo Sangah rests her right arm on the foot of the bed, a somewhat wistful expression on her face as she kneels on one knee so as to not block the people behind her. Han Sooyoung stands behind the bed with her arms folded over the top, chewing a lollipop stick as she stares at the camera with a tired yet determined smile on her face. Finally, Lee Jihye stands in the right foreground, grinning at the camera and making a peace sign as she takes the picture. /end ID]

[megumiifushiiguro]

the byler tag is so dead rn

[malachitezmeyka]

As someone who’s both aspec (aroace, aqueerplatonic, afamilial and plato-indifferent demiplatonic) and generally squicked out by the idea of being bound by the universe to someone before you’ve even met them, I’m not the biggest fan of Soulmate AUs. I’d did go through a phase of liking them a lot when I was like 12, though even then I tended to go for the angstiest scenarios possible that usually involved someone losing their soulmate

I am, however, willing to make an exception for a Kuviren soulmate AU, if only for the sheer potential of “Spirits no, not her, anyone but her, please…”

[fictionallyinparadise]

I finally wrote something based on this post but it's the comfort specifically while I think about how the other stuff would work

Content Warnings: Mentioned violence (not descriptive), mouth horror, description of blood, attempted brainwashing mention, torture mention (not descriptive), feel free to ask for more.

His eyes opened again, staring at their hands. A slight tremor, the weapon they stole dropped a few feet behind them. Clean from any bodily fluids physically but not mentally. His head was pounding, the accelerated heart beat not helping the noise.

Freedom was here yet it felt so far away. He had no fucking clue where he was or what was around. There could be traps or other threats about. Worrying over that made their head hurt more. "Damnit. How do I get home?" D'zca muttered, starting to wander around. Nobody was out, likely all fixing the damage he caused. As if they had actually planned to do so much damage to aid their escape. There weren't any thoughts, just...violence.

Which was what those bastards wanted technically. Mindless actions. Just not the kind they wanted.

D'zca kept walking, legs shaking with every step. They stretched their wings out to try and balance themselves, though it just added weight. He ended up stumbling into a nearby wall, cursing under his breath. "D'zca? Where are you, baby?" A familiar voice called out. They stood still, repeating how his name was said over and over. It eventually sounded like a fake name after the seventh mental repeat. The torture technology that these other Ricks had made was incredible, but nothing could mimic the way their Rick said his name.

He was here. Real and here, not a trap. They approached, stumbling like a newborn deer. Thankfully the scientist spotted them. Rick caught up to him halfway, wrapping his arms around them tight. Was it to keep them upright or to confirm they were real?

Either way, it was appreciated.

"Sorry it took so long to get ya, sugarcake. I got a little caught up in 'how do I make sure these shitheads don't try shit again' and-" Rick stopped himself from talking, taking a breath. "I'll talk your ears off when we get home."

Home.

D'zca lifted their head from his boyfriend's shoulder, blinking his smaller eyes. "How long have I been gone?" It felt like a week, maybe three. It had to have been.

"A day and a half."

He blinked all their eyes at that.

"...a day and a half?"

Rick nodded, his face dropping at the question. "They really did a fuckin' number on you." He muttered. It wasn't a question, just a statement that had revenge plans brewing behind it.

"Already showed 'em." D'zca muttered, wings drooping down.

Rick was silent for a moment, the sound of fabric rustling implying he was searching for something. "Is it okay if I activate your human disguise? Everyone's already gonna freak the fuck out about you being kidnapped and tortured. Finding out you're an alien would probably give Jerry a heart attack." He paused after that, as if to add a correction to his last sentence but decided against it. "Not that I'm ashamed that you're an alien but like, you mentioned that you didn't want to reveal the truth so-"

"You can do it." D'zca mumbled with a weak attempt of a smile. Slender and strangely soft fingers brushed against the side of their neck before stopping.

"Did...did they fuckin' rip your threads out to re-do them?"

They froze at the question, lips parting to the painful they spent hours achieving. Blood crusted around and on their lips like a dry lipstick, the taste permanent on his tongue. Salty metal with an unnerving sweetness to it.

"I tore them."

"What? Why?"

"...to talk back."

Rick raised a brow, gently pressing to the spot on their neck that would activate the human disguise Rick had made months ago. "What did ya say, hun?"

"...that you made a fighter, not a bitch." D'zca muttered after opening and closing their mouth a couple of times. Their jaw was sore from grinding their teeth so much.

"Attaboy. Let's get you home, baby." The sound of the portal gun followed as well as the weightless feeling of being returned home. The garage; it's familiar smell and sights. The screwdriver that kept rolling back and forth on the desk, the assorted screws scattered on the floor, the blueprints crumpled up near the garbage can, the smell of rich metals and oil.

Home. It smelled like home.

Rick carefully laid them on the makeshift full bed that was made whenever D'zca was first brought here. The flannel sheets felt softer than a feather, cooing the oracle to sleep.

They reached out a sleepy hand towards his partner, tugging on his labcoat. The question was understood without words, Rick laying next to them. His face was the same as those bastards but it was...kinder. More smile lines, eyes that always carried softness to them until someone said or did something to make that go away.

"Just let me know if you need me to leave." He whispered. "I'll understand. You're safe either way. I've got you...and the garage's got you. So, two forces to be reckoned with."

D'zca managed a smile at that, eyes closing. Tired and sore, it was hard to resist sleep. The feeling of something warm being put around him- Rick's coat or blankets, he couldn't tell- and that was all. They frowned slightly, curling closer towards their partner.

A careful arm wrapped across the oracle's body, waiting for a moment. Then those thin fingers curled into D'zca's, squeezing his hand gently. Just that arm around them completed the feeling of being at home.

Rick always gave amazing hugs. Even if he was covered in something, those arms were always perfect. Warm, secure, and carrying the scent of chemicals and cheap cologne. It didn't take long for D'zca to fall asleep, breathing in the scent of home and Earth's oxygen.

[euphoriaslux]

two’s a party.

summary: you recently transferred to stanford, and decide to tutor a tennis player in your class. he has a friend. severe indecency ensues.

word count: 3.3k

warnings : smut, threesomes, f!oral receiving, swearing, smoking, drinking. slight cuck energy if you squint (i’m sorry ((no i’m not))). no challengers spoilers!

a/n: this fic got away from me big time but this movie has rotted my brain and as a result i have written utter debauchery that i will not apologize for. just had to get this out of my head, enjoy!

-

stanford science hall. monday , march 3.

You swear the last thing you’ll hear before your body is lowered into your grave is the process of lactic acid breakdown.

It’s 2:30 PM. Kinesiology 189 with Professor Wilson, a lanky middle-aged man with a PhD in exercise science and a half-grown beard that you don’t think will ever fully grow in, is almost over. He’s teaching Extended Studies of the Human Body in a humid classroom filled with student-athletes, most of whom are trying to stay awake, trying to hide that they’re taking a nap, or making no attempt to hide that they’re on their phones. You don’t really blame any of them, because the professor’s voice is so soft and monotone that it feels like he’s begging everyone to pay attention to anything but him. You’ve managed to stay somewhat on course with the thread of today’s lecture, the notebook in front of you filled with scribbles of incomplete molecular structures and somewhat legible drawings of the muscular anatomy of a hamstring.

This class is required for your biology major since you’re on a pre-medicine track. You don’t know why you’re doing it, the whole doctor thing, but you’ve developed a weird fixation for this class. The functionality of the body, how muscles stretch and tear with each movement, and how amino acids work to build them back even bigger.

And, possibly because of the tennis player who sits four rows ahead of you every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

His last name is Donaldson. You know because of the faded label on the massive bag he throws on the floor every time he walks into class, at least ten minutes late with a backward Stanford Tennis cap on his head. His first name remains a mystery, partly because he never talks in class, and mainly because you’ve made no attempt to speak to him. You like to think it’s because you’re so focused on the curriculum.

Professor Wilson knows your name, though, since you’re in his office hours every Thursday at 11 A.M. In part because he gives out most of the answers to his homework, and because you just transferred to Stanford your last year and very desperately need a letter of recommendation for medical school. Hence why you agreed to tutor a student with lower than 60% in the class during one of your meetings. And why everyone in the class was staring at you right now.

“... first come first serve, so reach out to her sooner rather than later.”

You give a tight-lipped smile, glancing around the room. Most people have looked away, back to their distraction of choice, but you meet eyes with the fluffy blonde-haired tennis player.

stanford library. wednesday, march fifth.

It’s 11 A.M., and you feel like your brain is about to explode if you look at another practice set.

“Hey”.

Your head whips around to the harsh whisper, only to be met with the blue-eyed mystery from your class. He has that large bag slung over his shoulder, with the end of a tennis racket peeking out of it. His hair is slightly stuck to his face, and his compression tee is slick to his chest like a second skin.

“Hi,” you whisper back. He smiles before tossing his bag on the floor and sitting in the chair across from you, either unaware of or completely ignoring the glares he’s receiving from the other students studying.

“You know,” he pulls out some kind of nutrition bar from his bag, unwrapping it and taking an aggressive bite, “for someone advertising their services, you’re pretty hard to find.”

“You’re in Mr. Wilson’s class, right?” you ask, hoping your subdued voice will remind him that he’s in a notoriously quiet place. He hums, pointing at you with his half-eaten snack.

“And I’m trying not to fail, but you didn’t leave your number anywhere in the classroom, and you bolt after every class. So how am I supposed to patronize your tutoring services…” he trails off, his volume the same level as when he walked in. You furrow your brows as he leans back into the chair.

“That’s when you say who you are.”

You feel a burn on the back of your neck as you tell him your name. He glances down towards the problem set you’ve nearly finished.

“How do you turn in any of those, I can’t get halfway through one of them.”

You pause for a moment before leaning slightly across the table to whisper:

“This new weird thing called studying. I think it just got approved by the CDC.”

“Very funny,” he shakes his head as reaches for your binder with your class schedule printed out on the front of it.

“Why are you taking so many bio classes?”

“Because I’m a biology major,” you can’t help the sarcasm dripping from your voice, and he looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Sorry, you’re making this too easy for me,” you raise your hands in conceit.

“I have practice every day at five so you can tutor me for like an hour beforehand,” he says before standing up, crunching up the silver wrapper and stuffing it into the front pocket of his blue jeans. You scoff at his sentence.

“Well, thank you for so generously fitting me into your schedule,” you roll your eyes, turning the page in your textbook. He grins.

“Tell the coach you’re there for Art. They’ll let you through.”

stanford tennis courts. friday, march 7th.

It’s 4 PM, and the California sun is sweltering. Your shorts feel like they’ve become a part of your legs, and your bag feels like it weighs a thousand pounds. By the time you make it to the tennis courts Art is already on the green concrete, shirtless with beads of sweat dripping down his face and chest. You hear his grunts as he sprints across the court, hitting the ball toward a slightly taller brunette with dangerously short red shorts. You watch them at the entrance for a few minutes, slightly entranced as the two play so seamlessly, as if they know every move the other person is going to make. You force your eyes away as you walk up the bleachers, stepping over leftover water bottles and chip bags to sit down and grab your notes from your backpack. It takes a couple more minutes for Art to notice you, yelling your name after he turns around to grab a ball his partner had hit particularly hard. You wave, and he says something you can’t hear to the brunette before the two of them jog across the courts and up the stands to where you are, blocking the sun as the two stand side by side.

“Who’s your friend?” you ask as you stuff the problem set you were working on in between the pages of your notebook.

“I’m Patrick,” he says, with a toothy smile and his ears poking out from under his hair. He has a bit more of a boyish charm to him than Art does, whose eyes are glued to his brunette counterpart.

“Are you in Mr. Wilson’s class too?”

Patrick opens his mouth to answer but Art speaks first, slightly pushing his friend with his shoulder as he says “He doesn’t go to Stanford, too busy being a tennis pro.”

Patrick rolls his eyes but his smile doesn’t leave his face. You notice how different this Art feels from the one in the library, how direct his playfulness is and how close he and Patrick stand together, their sweaty torsos nearly melding together.

Interesting.

“Like, Andre Agassi level pro?” you smile as the two of them laugh. Patrick raises the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat off of his forehead, and you can’t help but take a glance at the exposed skin just above his waistband.

“Sorry, he’s like the only tennis player I know.”

“No, no I’m taking that as a compliment that you think I’m on the level of Agassi. No takebacks if you see me play,” Patrick points at you.

“Will do,” you salute, turning over to Art.

“You ready to study?” you ask him as he makes a comically loud groan, his head falling back. Patrick laughs, reaching over to ruffle his friends hair.

“You do remember that’s why I’m here, right? Midterms are in two weeks.”

“I definitely have not forgotten that.” he says. You purse your lips just as Patrick’s eyes seem to light up.

“I’m staying at the Courtyard Hotel for the weekend. You two can come over and study, I need to review my last match anyway. Kill two birds with one stone,” Patrick suggests.

“Just studying?”

“Just studying,” Art says, wrapping his arm around his friend's shoulder. You glance between the two of them, trying to decipher the unspoken communication they seem to be doing. But you can’t crack it, so you shrug.

“Sure.”

“Let us finish this set, and then you’ll have me all to yourself. Sound fair?”

“Wow, what a privilege. Don’t take too long, it’s hell on Earth out here!” you yell the last part as Art jogs down the steps and back down towards the net. You look up once you realize that the sun is still being blocked, and Patrick is still standing in front of you.

“You ever play?” he grins, flipping the tennis racket in his hand.

“Tennis? God, no, that would not be a pretty sight. I’ll stick to what I’m good at,” you gesture to the books and notes in your lap. Patrick nods.

“If you ever want to learn, I could teach you sometime, you know if-” he’s cut off by Art yelling his name, and you both glance to see him with his hands on his hips.

“Go, don’t keep your boyfriend waiting,” you wave him off, and you swear you can see him blushing. Must have been the glare.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says over his shoulder as he runs toward Art.

courtyard hotel. saturday, march 8.

It’s 11 pm. There’s a cold shiver in the elevator as you wait to get to the fourth floor, your tennis shoes tapping against the floor as one hand plays with the handle of the pack of beer in your hand while the other crumples and re-crumples the piece of paper with the hotel room number Patrick scribbled on it.

what are you doing?

You don’t have time to think about the consequences of your actions as the robotic voice signals that you’re on the fourth floor, the elevator doors fluttering open. It’s like your feet have a mind of their own, as you find yourself almost mindlessly wandering through the hotel halls until you’re planted in front of room 4B. You raise your hand to knock on the door but before you can make contact with the wood it’s thrust open, and Patrick is standing behind it. His dark hair is slightly tousled around his face, his striped shirt unbuttoned and his black boxer briefs low on his waist. He’s smiling, that same big smile as before, but his face is a little flushed, a gentle pink hue touching his cheeks. The two of you don’t say anything for a few seconds, as if you were both testing to see who would concede first to acknowledge the other’s presence. You raise the pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon in your right hand.

“I brought studying fuel.”

You were never good at waiting.

Patrick laughs before he moves slightly out of the way to allow you to walk into his room. It’s small, with a queen-sized bed and a tiny desk, and the A/C emits an odd rumbling sound as it smacks against the window. Clothes and scorecards are strewn across the floor, and the scent of cigarettes permeates the room. You place the alcohol on the floor before deciding to sit on the bed, kicking off your shoes as you cross your legs. Patrick seems to stall for a moment, smiling to himself before closing the door behind him. He doesn’t lock the door, but you didn’t notice.

“Art’s not here yet?” you ask, watching as Patrick walks over and tears open the cardboard case, cracking open a can. Taking a sip, he leans against the desk as he smiles.

“Art can be bad with time.”

“As I’ve noticed,” you reach your hand out to motion towards the drink and Patrick hands it to you, staring as you take a large sip.

“Well,” you wipe the side of your mouth, “I told him to bring the topics he wanted to study, so I guess we can’t do anything until he gets here.”

Patrick nods with a slight pout, his fingers playing with the pop tab of the can. “I guess we can’t.”

“How’s tennis… stuff,” you laugh as you finish the question, not sure of exactly what to say.

Patrick seems to tense a little at the mention of the sport, moving over to sit next to you on the bed. His knee grazes your leg and you feel a slight buzz at the contact as he takes the beer from your hand.

“I’m kinda fucking it up right now,” he says, and you furrow your brows.

“How? You were like, really good yesterday.”

He chuckles, shaking his head slightly. He hands you the beer and you finish it off, placing the empty can at the bottom of your feet.

“I’m good with Art. It feels so fucking natural and easy with him. But in my other matches, I don’t know. I just … can’t replicate it.”

You nudge him with your leg.

“Sounds like you two were made to play tennis together.”

He makes a noise of agreement, his hands slowly moving to ghost over your thigh.

“You and Art are pretty close?” you ask as he plays with the bottom hem of your shorts, but he doesn’t say anything. You take his silence as a yes.

“Do you ever get jealous?”

“Of Art?” he asks, almost incredulously. You shrug.

“Yeah, or jealous of the girls he’s with. Either or.”

Patrick sits on that for a few moments before smirking.

“What’s mine is mine, and what’s his is mine.”

You laugh at that, a real deep laugh, and Patrick giggles next to you, the both of you tipsy from the can of beer you finished. You reach over and put your hand on his flushed face, rubbing your hand across his cheek.

“What were you doing before I came?” you feel his face warm even more against your skin as you position yourself closer to him.

“Practicing- or, sorry, rereading my scorecards from my last match.”

You tutted as you moved your hand to the back of his neck, gently running your hands through his hair.

“You can tell me the truth, Patrick.”

He turns his head to press a gentle kiss to the palm of your hand before looking up at you as if to check if that was too much. Whatever your expression is gives him the confidence to move down to your neck, his tongue licking your skin.

“I think you know.”

You feel a pull in your lower stomach at his words, muffled by his mouth nipping at the sensitive spot just below your ear, and he sucks hard enough for you to put your hand around on his face at the pressure. Pulling his face up, the two of you stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, and his eyes glance toward your lips. You wanted to wait, to make him beg and plead for it, but your body seemingly pulled you forward as your pressed your mouth onto his.

You were really quite bad at waiting.

He tastes like tobacco and faintly of the fruit medley in the dining hall, and you sigh as his lips interlock with yours and his hand grabs the back of your neck, pressing you into him. The kiss gets messy and hard, his tongue gliding over your bottom lip and into your mouth as you lift your leg to straddle Patrick, grinding into him. He whimpers into the kiss as his calloused hands drop down to the waistband of your shorts, hesitating for a moment before dropping his hand into your underwear. You grind just a little bit faster as his fingers press circles into your clit, covering your mouth with your hand as you moan.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs as he uses his other hand to guide your hips, and your move your hands down to tug firmly on his hair. You can feel your climax building, the pressure in your stomach getting closer and closer to taking you over the edge-

You both jump at the sound of the hotel room dor slamming shut. Art is standing there, in that damn backward cap and a Stanford tee shirt as he crosses his arms over his chest, saying nothing as you and Patrick sit up straight, him adjusting his crotch and you smooth down your shirt, avoiding his gaze. Finally, the silence is broken by Art laughing.

“Christ, I’m not the cops,” he slips out of his slides as he waltzes over and opens a can of beer, drinking about half of it in one go. You look at him, and at Patrick, and then back at him, not knowing what the hell you just got yourself into.

“You want to fuck him right?” Art asks, and you can’t help your small gasp at how easily he said that. You glance at Patrick, hoping he’ll know what to say, but he’s just staring at Art.

“I-um,”

“So, no one’s stopping you,” Art cuts you off, taking a final swig of his beer and moving to stand directly in front of you. You open your mouth to try and explain, but before you can talk Patrick’s mouth is on yours again, his hand roaming your body. His grip is firmer now, his fingertips digging into the side of your stomach. He tugs at the bottom of your shirt and you separate, breathless as you pull your shirt over your head and toss it on the floor. Patrick’s mouth moves down to your neck, then your collarbones, and then your chest as he reaches around to take of your bra, and you feel on fire from Art’s gaze across the room. As Patrick kisses down your stomach and yanks down your shorts, you turn over to meet Art’s eyes.

“Come here.”

Whatever resolve Art was holding onto crumbles as he quickly takes off his shirt and slips out of his Nike shorts, tossing his hat on the dresser. In a flash Art’s hands are on your neck, tilting your head around to kiss you as Patrick lifts up your hips so he can take off your underwear. Art’s lips are softer than Patrick’s but he kisses you a little bit harder, his hand cupping the base of your neck. Somehow, they both taste the same. You moan into Art’s mouth as you feel Patrick’s tongue swirl around your clit, rolling your hips into his mouth as Art’s cock presses into your back. It’s just so much so fast, and that familiar buzz starts to pool in your lower stomach.

“Look at him,” Art turns your head to Patrick and you look into his eyes as you cum, Art’s hands hold your head forward as a wave of euphoria crashes over you. Patrick’s hands are digging into your hips as he stares up at you and Art. Your chest heaves up and down as you try to catch your breath, leaning against Art as Patrick leans back up, his mouth a few inches from yours.

“Who do you want first?

[spencerrreiddd]

Three, Two, One. - Chapter 1

Summary: You and Spencer have worked in the BAU together for years, since the beginning but now, he's your boss and something quite big is happening in your life & soon to be Spencer's life after needing each others help to unwind.

Pairing: UnitChief!Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

WC: 3.3k

Warnings: Pregnancy, Angst, Cheating??

A/N: LOW & BEHOLD- here lays my first beauty. - my apologies is this is complete shit, I have not written in a while & I may have to get my special touch back. - anyways, i hope you guys like it ! 🔪🤍

Three, Two, One. Chaper 2.

three, two, one-

pregnant.

You were pregnant. You were pregnant with your bosses baby.

Spencer has not always been your boss, you actually started working for the BAU a month before he had even started working there.

He took over Emily's position once she moved up to FBI Director a few months back, at that congratulations party is when something sparked between you and Spencer- just, neither of you acted on it

You remember exactly how and when it happened too, it was the party after his promotion to Unit Chief. Goddamn promotion parties. You didn’t think you drank that much, until you woke up naked beside your new boss.

The temptation to pack a bag and hop on a flight across the world sounded so appetizing right now in your mind, too bad that it isn't realistic & you were going to have to face the facts and that was including, him.

There was never any “no speaking of this” - only us meeting up at my apartment, his apartment, our hotel rooms when we were on a case and needed to ‘unwind’ - the last time you and Spence had even slept together was 2-3 weeks ago anyway, of course when y'all needed to unwind after a case. Who could've guessed that one?

You were snatched from your thoughts when you heard your phone ringing from your bedroom- running for it, you were hoping that it wasn't Spencer.

‘Penelope Garcia 🖥️💖🍩’ 'thank the heavens' you silently think to yourself

“What’s up, Penny”

“Spencer is busy, he put me on duty to call you to find out if you plan to show your face at work today, ya know- since it is a work day and no show, no calls are frowned upon here" Your neck snaps to look at your alarm clock.

"Also, he wants to see you in his office once you get here"

7:32 A.M - have I seriously been staring at a positive pregnancy test for an entire hour?

“Fuck. See you soon. I'm leaving right now"

The short drive to work felt longer than it should have, probably because you took back roads to avoid having to see him again so soon. If you were already running late, what is a few extra minutes?

So many thoughts flying through your mind. How are you going to tell him? Oh hey, by the way, ya knocked me up so what’s the plan bud?!

“I'm doomed" You mutter to yourself getting out of your vehicle to go face reality, to go face the man of your now growing child. This has to be a nightmare.

Getting off of the elevator, the first person you saw was Alvez- boy, you were thankful that it wasn't Spencer, even though you'd be seeing him in just a few minutes.

"Looks like you saw a ghost"

"Yeah, Luke, something like that"

"You want to talk about it?"

"Not right now, I just want to forget about it- I need to see Pen" yeah, Y/N, like you'll actually be able to forget about it.

You make a beeline directly for Penelope's office, you have to tell someone about this before you actually lose your mind.

"Pen, I have news and it has to stay between you and I only"

"Your secret is safe with me, my love"

"I'm pregnant.. with Spencer's baby" you hesitated even saying the last part but wow, that felt good to get off of your chest, too bad it won't feel this easy with Spencer. Just thinking of having to tell him has you feeling like someone is choking you out.

"Oh."

"Oh? Pen, I am in a state of panic, a state of shock and you say 'Oh'- I don't know what to even begin to do here or how to even tell Reid that I am carrying his.. spawn"

"Spencer has a girlfriend or did, as far as I kn- okay, when did you find out” She cuts herself after seeing the look of horror on your face after hearing the beginning of her sentence, understandably so!

You were NOT the type of person to sleep with a taken man.

You were confident that you were about to face plant the ground right here and now in Penelope’s office. Did Spencer have a girlfriend or not? And were you about to go physically fight him for doing this to her, if so? You would be considering yourself jobless at that point.

“I found out this morning, literal minutes before you called me to get my ass here” you were in a pure state of panic and you had many good reasons as to why.

“How long has he had a girlfriend, Pen?” you continued- you were sure your skin was blistering with how hot it was at this point. Was it hot out of anger or the panic attack that was charging at you? Who knows anymore because you didn’t care enough in this single second to sit and determine that.

"I don't know, he just mentioned a date a few weeks ago then didn't mention anything again but I know he's still in communication with her and by the contact name in his phone, I don't think they are just friends" Penelope lets you in on all of this, nervously- like she isn't supposed to be saying anything at all.

"Thanks, Pen" You murmur to her her as you leave, you have to leave her office, the longer you are in there, the more it feels like the walls are literally closing in on you.

Walking into the hallway, you don't know which direction to go- You should probably go see Spencer and give him some bullshit excuse as to why you were late.

It was barely 8 A.M, maybe it was past 8 A.M now- your mind is going too fast to try and keep up with time. Regardless, it's too early in the morning to drop a pregnancy announcement on someone.

Finally, you muster up the courage to walk into the bullpen to go on the hunt for Spencer, as much as your mind and body are telling you to just bolt to your car and never look back.

"Tara, do you know where Spencer is?" You ask quietly, so that you don't disturb the others around you

"No, I saw him walk out of his office a few minutes ago but I haven't seen him go back in. If you find him before me, let me know because I need to go over some things with him"

"I'll go knock and see if he's back, thanks Tara"

You can visibly see his blinds are closed but majority of the time they are closed anyways, so that doesn't even matter to you. Walking up the flight of stairs to get to his office is exhausting, it feels like your legs weigh 1000 pounds each.

Standing in front of his office, you hear talking inside- You can very clearly hear a females voice inside talking to him but you honestly couldn't tell if she was over the phone or actually in his office by how muffled it is, it's safe to assume that it is a phone call.

"No going back now since you're already here" You mumble to yourself

Knock, knock, knock

"Come in" You hear a muffled Spencer behind the door

As your opening the door, you quickly hear him state to the woman on the phone 'I have to go, I'll see you tonight' - God, as if you haven't already wanted to run away all morning, it keeps getting worse.

"Pen said you wanted to see me?"

"Yes, please sit" He says, gesturing to the chair

"Are you okay, Y/N? - You were late this morning, we've worked together for many years now and you've never once ran late, it's not like you not to communicate" You can see on his face that he cares, he didn't bring you in here to give you a lecture over something small, especially since this is your first time ever running late.

"Y-yes, I just woke up late and then getting to my car, I realized I had a flat, so I had to ask my neighbor to use his pump to fill it" You lied straight through your pearly white teeth and you were confident that he knew it to, just by the look he was giving you

He stares at you for a moment, trying to read you for anything. You were thankful for the fact that sometimes you were an impossible person to read

"Please, just communicate next time- It's not a big deal you were late, we just didn't know what was going on until I had Garcia get a hold of you"

"I will, you have my word- Am I good to go now?" You ask while standing up, yes, the talk went better than expected but you still wanted out of this office as fast as possible.

"Yes, thank you for coming to talk to me. Oh, also before I forget to mention it, at some point today whenever we both have free time, I would like to have a conversation. If it's just at the end of the day that's fine. It just needs to happen"

All you can bring yourself to do is nod your head and walk out of the room, based on the ass end of the phone call you walked in on- You have a pretty good hunch what he will be saying to you, especially after what Garcia also let you in on

It makes your heart ache- knowing that he could have a girlfriend, knowing this thing that the two of you had will be coming to an end, by no means were you and Spencer in a committed relationship but you would be lying to yourself, if you said you hadn't gained feelings for him and actually wanted more than just a 'fuck buddy' outcome

"So, is he up in the office? I really need to see him" Tara asks while already walking up there and away from you before you can even give her an answer.

You know for a fact that you are not going to be able to focus on work at all today even if you try your hardest, your anxiety is skyrocketing through the roof waiting for this conversation with Spencer and still, wondering when and how you are going to spill the beans about carrying his growing child.

"Alright, what is your issue? Are you pregnant?" Alvez is like a brother to you, nothing has been off limits in the talking department but this just sent you for a whole loop with how bluntly he asked.

You were confident that if it were possible, your eyes would've popped right out of their sockets and into your lap.

"Alvez, I am not discussing this with you right now" you whisper yelled to him, you didn't mean to come off like a bitch at all but god only knows who could've heard him.

"Well, Y/N, If I am being entirely honest. Penelope lets some things slip from time to time" He states like it's the most obvious thing ever.

All you can seem to do is look at him like a dear in the headlights, you feel your skin getting hot and prickly, it feels like there are someones hands around your throat squeezing harder and harder by the second.

"I have to go, I need to go home, I need air" It all comes out in a panic, you get up from your desk and bolt out of the bullpen and down the stairs, you don't even care to take the elevator. You cannot be stuck in a tight spot right now, a tight spot like an elevator.

"Please, just communicate" - "I will, you have my word" the conversation in Spencer's office goes through your mind and you know that you have to communicate with him that you just left work for the day and you don't plan to come back today, atleast- you couldn't and thankfully, it was Friday.

to: Spencer 'The Genius' Reid

'I have to excuse myself for the day, I'm sorry that I am having to send you a text message about this rather than coming to your office- this is me communicating with you. I will return back to my work duties on Monday, unless of course, a case pops up over the weekend then I will be here'

'also, I know we need to have a conversation, I also have something I need to tell you- let me know when you would like this conversation to take place' -

After sending your texts to Spencer, you set your phone on DND because at this point, you don't want to deal with anything or anyone else today, emergency or not.

Driving home was an entire blur, I mean you made it home alive, so that's what matters, I guess.

Walking inside, you plop onto the couch and turn on your favorite comfort show.. Modern Family.

A few hours later, you wake up in the exact place you laid down at- you thought your couch was so comfy until now when your entire body is in pain.. well, maybe it was your horrible sleeping position.

5:13 P.M -

"sweet baby jesus on a motorbike" You mutter to yourself after looking at the clock

"what are you doing to me?" You ask while poking your non-existent baby bump, granted it was a great sleep so you weren't trying to complain- you had heard from JJ in the past that early pregnancy is exhausting and you will sleep.. ALOT.

**BACK AT THE BAU**

"I just practically asked her if it was true but maybe in a more blunt way, it wasn't meant to come out so.. blunt" Alvez explains to Penelope who apparently watched you sprint out of work.

"I specifically told you not to say anything to her about it, I didn't even mean to let it slip to you of all people, Luke. I don't even think that they were in a relationship which makes this so much more difficult for her, as I could imagine" Pen snaps back at Luke.

"It's not going past me, I'm not opening my mouth to anyone about it" Luke says while walking to the Elevator with Pen, finally the work day was over

"Yeah, you let it slip to someone or who knows, I accidentally do again and Spencer is going to find out which right now, that doesn't need to happen" Pen states while being wildly unaware of who just came up behind them

"What doesn't Spencer need to find out right now and why can't he find out right now?" He asks from directly behind Alvez and Garcia, looking between the two of them for a answer.

Luke and Penelope both seem to jump straight out of their skin, not expecting to be crept up on- in reality, it was not Spencer's plan to creep up on them, he just happened to be leaving at the exact time as them and they didn't hear him coming up in the middle of their 'supposed to be' private conversation that was happening out in the open.

"I- uh it's nothing, well, sir, it's nothing in regards to me, i'm fine- it's not my place to tell you, it wasn't my place to tell, Luke- it just slipped and I am blabbering and I just realized that I need to get home" Before Spencer or Luke could say anything to her or anything more to Spencer, she's in the elevator with the doors closing.

'Nice Penelope, real nice' Luke thinks to himself, feeling a bit annoyed and slightly scared

Turning to look behind him, he sees Spencer's eyes boring right into him like he's staring right into Luke's soul, just waiting and searching for answers.

"Is there anything that you know, Alvez?" Spencer finally breaks the silence, otherwise who knows how long the two of them would've stayed standing there in the awkward paralyzing silence.

"I just know Y/N had to leave early today because, well I don't know why but I just know she left- you're her boss too, she should've communicated with you, right?"

"Right, Luke and she did, I have been trying to text and call her since I received her messages and nothing is going through" Reid is quick to bite back, getting quite annoyed himself being left in the dark and now that he is adding the pieces together, he's assuming these secretive things that "he isn't allowed to know about currently" are about you.

"I don't have any other information, what I told you is all I know- but I do need to get home to Roxy" Luke matter-of-factly states even though Luke knows that Luke is lying, well- not about Roxy but about the first part.

"Mhm, alright. Have a good night, Luke" Spencer gave up on trying to get any information out of the turnips that don't bleed but he is confident when he says this is about you and he will get to the bottom of it.

Back at your apartment, you've finally relaxed after a nice hot shower and ordering from your favorite chinese food joint and yes, still watching your comfort show but this time from the comfort of your own bed.

You still haven't even taken your phone off of DND mode, in your mind all you thought was 'if it is important enough, you know where I live and if you don't, contact Penelope Garcia' and the most important part, you were at peace.

You weren't worried about this pregnancy, you had accepted your fate, you weren't worried about Spencer or his new situ-relationship, you weren't even worried about what had happened with Alvez or Garcia. Peace.

"jesus Spencer, what the fuck" You yell out after walking out of the room and coming face to face with him, to say that you were startled was to say the absolute least

"Well, you would've known I was coming if someone didn't have their phone on airplane mode" He bit back with a darkness in his eyes and maybe a bit of worrisome, you couldn't tell everything with how dark it was.

"I know that I gave people a key to my house for emergencies but our conversation or how I was protecting my peace on a Friday night is not an emergency and frankly, if anyone was that worried, you would've sent someone sooner" You were once again fed up and wanted to continue to be alone with your favorite person, Phil Dunphy.

"I was going to drop our conversation until this weekend or even Monday, when we see each other in person again but funny enough, I was walking out to leave for the day when I walked into Luke's and Penelope's conversation and it was about you and something that I shouldn't be finding out about right now- would you happen to know anything about that?" Spencer replied, getting more and more fed up by the second.

If Spencer didn't know any better, he would say that you looked like you just saw a ghost- he was dead on the money about the conversation and some secret rooting back to you- now to just get it out of you.

Calming down after seeing the state you were rushing into, he comes to you with a softer approach - "Y/N, I want to help you. We've known each other for years, since I started working for the BAU, please let me know. Let me know what is going on. I'm not going anywhere"

You felt like you were about to up-chuck your chinese food all over this poor man, you know you need to tell him.

'Y/N you will never know the outcome of this unless you open your mouth and spill those words to him, be brave, be bold' You think silently to yourself.

"Spencer, I'm pregnant - You are the last person I slept with. I am pregnant with your baby"

if this is horrible, sue me - i haven't written in forever and honestly, this is a little bit longer than i thought it would be - whoops!

FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED

& yeah, yeah- i left this on a cliffhanger, if you beautiful humans actually like this, i had planned to make this a 2 parter story or who knows, if i make the next part longer then it could be 3 or more parts.

[kentoxo]

friction | reader (f) x crush!nanami pt.7

pairing: reader (f) x crush!nanami

synopsis: [AU] you have always had a crush on nanami. since the day you were hired as his personal assistant, you've been right at his side combating numbers and making money within the finance department for the company you two worked for. but, things take a turn when nanami catches wind of your feelings, and rejects you. little did he know the weight of his mistake.

warnings: angst, heartbreak, sexual tension, jealousy (future smut)

a/n: im back!!! with part 7!!!! (i hope i tagged everyone who asked to be in the taglist). thank you all for your patience, and for your kind words from the last part! it brought up my mood entirely :) im sorry im so repetitive, but truly i am grateful. i hope this is well written (looked over it like 8 times)

all parts: pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.4, pt.5, pt.6,

December | Tokyo, Japan | Wednesday 

It was around 2 A.M. when Haibara grudgingly entered the small speakeasy. 

It was a small, cozy bar inside the facade of a greasy burger joint, which Haibara gladly ordered from. He peeled the wrapping of his hot smash burger like a banana while making his way towards the back of the restaurant. The bar was separated with a curtain, and it was immensely dim. The only goers were a few guys in the corner, and Nanami at the bar itself. Haibara squinted through exhausted eyes about 4 empty cups near Nanami’s folded hands. 

Drunk, are we? He thought. 

Haibara casually laps at his greasy fingers, crumpling the wrapping paper with his other hand as he strolled over to Nanami. With a now somewhat clean hand, Haibara pats on Nanami’s shoulder. “You look like a loser, and I’m tired. Why don’t we call it a night right now and do this some other time?” 

“I can’t sleep,” Nanami begins quietly, wagging his finger in the air to beckon the bartender. “Please, two on the rocks.” 

“Whiskey? Tequila?” 

“Anejo, dark rum, please,” Nanami requests, bringing his hands up to his chin to rest on. He was pensive, but somewhat lost, as Haibara noticed the distance in his hazel orbs. It was unfamiliar, this version of Nanami. 

Haibara grimaces, already unenthused by the selection of drink, “we work in a few hours, you know. Are you sure we want to drink this much? Because I’m not.” He passes the crumpled burger paper to the waitress that came over.

“I’ve seen you come into work after getting black out drunk, and run on an hour's sleep. Sit.” Nanami grabs the seat next to him and pulls it out for Haibara. His close friend stares at him skeptically, but takes a seat. 

Haibara begins to take off his coat, the warmth of the bar melting him completely. Draping it over the back of his seat, he rubs his hands together, preparing himself for the night. “I’m never a responsible drunk, I can admit that. But you… this isn’t like you at all. What’s going on?”

Nanami emits a shaky sigh, trying his best to keep himself relaxed. But even slightly drunk, nothing to waive his nerves and the weight of his sporadic thoughts. “I feel like… I’m going crazy,” Nanami begins quietly, his eyes not daring to leave the bar. The two requested drinks make its presence known as they sat before the two men. “I just don’t understand why.” 

“Let’s start with what happened,” Haibara begins. You called Haibara, once again in tears while you explained what happened just a few hours ago at the steakhouse. You fall asleep with that same woe, allowing Haibara to nap for a few hours until Nanami calls him up. “Did something happen between you and Y/N?” 

Nanami raises his eyebrow, “how do you know?” 

Haibara’s tongue was too slick, “Y/N came back down by herself, and returned to the office because you gave her ‘extra work.’” 

“I could have, for all you knew,” Nanami huffs before taking his glass. 

“You came back down and didn’t say a single word,” Haibara grabs his own glass. “Whenever you were spoken to, you’d shake your head and say ‘repeat that.’” 

“All of a sudden you want to be meticulous,” Nanami murmurs before taking a sip of the dark brown booze. He looks up to meet Haibara’s eyes, which were stern and looking straight through Nanami. The blonde gives in, and carefully puts his cup down. “Y/N and I had a talk.” 

“Clearly.” Haibara downs his drink immediately. Might as well get drunk while Nanami was paying. He waves at the bartender and silently asks for another round. “Give me the rundown.” 

Nanami adjusts the collar of his crewneck, clearly becoming a bit shy, “No need for all of the details. Y/N, she um…- she confirmed the rumors regarding her feelings for me. They… aren’t just rumors.” 

Haibara had to bite his lip to keep a smile from forming, “is that right?” Nanami’s eyes narrowed down at his glass, staring at the large ice cube slowly melting. The struggle to keep from smiling disappears when he realizes that this wasn’t Nanami. “I assume you rejected her? Like you always do.” 

Nanami grimaces, looking away as if trying to shield his expression from Haibara. It was almost like… he was lamenting all his decisions that led him to this point. “...I did.” 

“So, what’s wrong?” Haibara starts, his words emitted slowly as he wants to carefully tread this new side of his friend. “You aren’t interested in relationships, Kento. Was there something else that happened?” 

“N-no, it's… exactly that, actually,” Nanami hums, his tone ornate with perplexity. “I rejected her… and it has made me unsettled since.” 

“What makes you unsettled?” Haibara asks, curious over this new side of Nanami. “You can’t reciprocate her feelings, so you rejected her. She can’t blame you for being honest.” 

“A-and, that’s the thing, right?” Nanami runs a hand through his hair, closing his eyes a bit. He’s drunk, Haibara noted. “I was honest, and told her… not really politely, but I told her I did not feel the way she does. But now, I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“Alright, let’s make this easier for the both of us,” Haibara sharply interrupts. He slightly slams his glass down, gaining the eye contact of his dear friend. Guilty hazel eyes meet his own, but they don’t flicker away. “Just tell me what’s bothering you. Let it all out.” 

Nanami stares at him for a moment, fixing his eyes on each of Haibara’s. He could feel the pit in his stomach, working with the feeling of his drunkenness. His body felt hot, but goosebumps danced along his skin as though he was freezing. He could feel his cheeks warm, not just from the ethanol, but from his unaddressed feelings. Feelings that he’s not even aware of. Feelings he didn't even know he had. 

“I…” Nanami begins hesitantly. He downs another glass of liquor, a growl-like sigh leaving his dry lips. He was working up the courage to admit what was bothering him, but the conflict of why was keeping him silent. Haibara noticed this and quickly tapped his friend's shoulder. “Hm?” 

“Bartender,” Haibara calls, “two cups of absinthe, please.” 

Nanami lets out a chuckle, despite his feelings, “what do you know about absinthe?” 

“A lot, actually,” Haibara amuses him, “you’re not gonna get me fucked up without having at least one sweet thing.” 

“Absinthe is gonna fuck us completely,” Nanami replies, genuine laughter leaving him. A rare curse coming from Nanami. The two cups arrive, which both gentlemen take one. “You know it’s not that sweet… and it’s diluted.” 

“Just drink,” Haibara hisses, the two lifting their cups and downing the alcohol. They immediately cough, leaning against one another to suffer the coughing and the laughter that follows. “Shit, I always forget how strong it is.” 

Nanami covers his lips with a closed fist, laughter running around it, “it’s watered down for a reason.” 

After the sea of laughter calms, Haibara nudges Nanami. He could tell they were both tipsy, Nanami more so as he was here for an unknown amount of time before his arrival. “Please, tell me everything that’s bothering you. Better to get it out of your chest than keeping it in and suffering that.” 

Nanami gulps, but finds comfort in his friend's words. Haibara was right. He called him out here to do exactly that. And Nanami would feel worse if he dragged Haibara outside just to not confide in him. Carefully putting down his cup, he straightens his back and clears his throat. The liquid courage must not go to waste. 

“I mean… what am I bothered by?” Nanami whispers. The tip of his index rubbed along the rim of his glass. “We’ve grown up together, Yu. You’ve never seen me with a woman, nor was I ever really interested.” 

“But?” Haibara’s curiosity saunters with the alcohol in his system.

“I guess what really bothers me,” Nanami hums quietly, “is that of all the women I’ve met. From our school days, from outings, from work– it’s her. Why… is it her?” 

“Is it bad that it’s her?” 

“It’s not bad– not at all,” Nanami quickly says, “but how come I’ve become so taken by her? Without even realizing it? Am I that out of touch with my feelings?” 

Haibara chuckles at Nanami’s small panic, “it’s not that you’re out of touch with your feelings, Kento. You’ve never had these exact feelings to begin with, so this is foreign for you.” 

“But… as people, we aren’t that acquainted,” Nanami’s eyes lowered to his hands. “I don’t know anything about what she likes, her family, her hobbies. How can I like someone I know nothing about?” 

“Let me put it in a different perspective then,” Haibara suggests. “What are things that you like whenever you two work together?” 

Nanami looks up at Haibara and pauses for a moment. Then, his lips part, “I like that she always does things exactly as I request, even before I ask.” 

“She’s quite the assistant,” Haibara agrees. 

Nanami nods, “she is detailed in her work, extremely meticulous and doesn’t let any detail get past her.” He doesn’t pause at all this time, and keeps going. “She always knows what I like to have. I come into work knowing she has my cup of coffee, and wait for her to tell me what I want for lunch because I need not tell her.” 

Haibara fights off a smile. It was extremely relieving to see his friend finally like someone. It was almost destiny that life had kept his heart dormant until now. Until you. 

“I like that she’s honest without being rude,” Nanami says slowly, the ends of his lips forming a soft smile. "She has a sweet tooth, but she wanted to try my coffee after I confided its context to her.” 

“She has a good head on her shoulders,” Haibara concurs, encouraging him to keep talking about you. 

"I like the way she pushes back her hair whenever she has to deal with a more tedious task. And the way she smiles whenever she finishes all of her work for the day."

Haibara was cheering for you in his mind.

"I like..." Nanami begins hesitantly. "...that she's my assistant, and nobody else's." Haibara felt his own feels warm from his admittance.

Nanami finally feels his body go completely hot, his chest taking on the most warmth. He could feel his smile tickle his own cheeks, insistently forcing him to cup his mouth. It was overwhelming– realizing that he was wrong this whole time. He lied to you when he rejected you, albeit his newly discovered feelings. His free hand cups his chest, feeling his heart pumping at a speed alien to him. 

“Yu,” Nanami begins quietly. He looks over at him, face suddenly pale, “I think I’m having a heart attack.” 

Haibara finally breaks, and starts laughing. He quickly wraps his arm around the blonde man. Haibara leans his forehead against Nanami’s, soothing his nerves from the simple gesture. “You’re not having a heart attack, Kento. You’re drunk and feeling things we both didn’t think you had.” 

Nanami nudges him off, rolling his eyes. “It wasn’t like I’d never like somebody,” Nanami huffs, bringing his cup to his lips to sip at the watered-down remaining alcohol. 

“I can’t even count in 20 hands how many women you’ve rejected in the many years that I’ve known you,” Haibara scoffs. “You are sculpted like a Greek god, and yet somehow you’ve managed to waste it until now.” 

Nanami shoves Haibara a bit, but chuckles escape his lips. Haibara joins him. It felt like to have such a heart-to-heart, especially with someone like Haibara. Nanami raises his hand to the bartender, pretending to sign a check in the air. “I’m so sorry for keeping us so late for my foolishness. But, thank you very much for being my friend, Yu. I know it hasn’t been easy, but I really appreciate it.” 

Haibara rolls his eyes, “you’re right; it has not been easy, and I deserve to be compensated.” He then laughs through already soft words. “But honestly, it’s no biggie. I’m glad that you actually feel comfortable enough to talk about this with me. You’re usually one to keep to yourself.” 

Nanami’s drunk smile remains, “that’s fair. But please feel free to call out if you don’t feel well rested. I can absolutely vouch that you had a family emergency.” 

Haibara held his chest, his eyes full of surprise, “the work-obsessed and policy-abiding Nanami is willing to lie for me? You really do love me.” 

The bartender comes with the check, and Nanami reaches into his pocket for his wallet. Although under the influence, Nanami couldn’t get rid of the smile on his face. “Yeah, well. I asked you to come out, so this is the least I could do.” 

Haibara watches as Nanami tosses his credit card onto the bill. “But I have no plans of leaving you on your own tomorrow. We gotta really seal the deal, and finally be finished with our clients.” 

Nanami nods in agreement, watching as the bartender returns and collects the closed bill. “You just reminded me that I should send an email to both Marketing and Sales to warn them about our new clients.” 

Haibara nods, “yeah, they’re a bit much, aren’t they? Especially with how they stared at Y/N at the restaurant. Weird pervs.” 

Nanami, without meeting Haibara’s eyes, says simply, “it was why I didn’t let Y/N assist me during this time. A bird informed me about their crude manner with women.”

Haibara chuckles, but immediately stops and looks over at Haibara. All the dots were connecting like the stars in the Big Dipper. “No wonder you kept mentioning that Takada shacho assigned you his assistants. I thought you kept saying it to boost your rep!” 

Nanami shows a cocky grin, “that’s a given. But, I didn’t want Y/N to be a victim of that. Especially now that I understand what I’m feeling– I don’t think I would have acted decent.” 

Through slurred words, Haibara chuckles, “you’re so whipped, Kent.” 

“Whipped?” Nanami looks over at his friend, innocently tilting his head in confusion like a pup. “What does that mean?” 

Haibara gets off from his seat, his body warm and stomach satisfied. He lifts off his coat from the seat, and begins to pull on the sleeves. “Come, I’ll tell you outside.” Nanami signs the check, and retrieves his credit card. 

Walking slowly behind Haibara, Nanami couldn’t help but feel something. It felt like the cross between relief and anticipation. Suddenly, he felt at ease about the future, almost as if his unrecognized worry was now washed away. He felt hopeful that he could remedy his mistake, and start something new… with you. 

Of course, that won’t be easy, as you were currently sleeping with a hollow, broken heart. 

Taglist: [Now Closed]

@blossomedfloweroflove @numblytemporary @everyoneandtheirmothers @animechick555 @inthedarkshadows000

@m-arj-1 @julk4e @hadassery @swoozleee @angxlsatvrn

@v1x3n @s-witch-bitch @furgusonn @watyousayin @thechaoticarchivist

@simp-manhwa @5sos-wdw @ffyona1214 @phantombaby @evangel44xxcds

@ukiyodestiny @jasminelee324 @eurydxceorphxus @moonlightazriel @s3rp3ntsssc0ve

@dusty-dweller @wifenanami @bokuatsubro @ayesayman @starry-eyed--dreamer

[yenqa]

THE DAY THAT I MET YOU I STARTED DREAMING | where akaashi finds out he’s in love.

♫ — currently playing… faye webster

warnings — none i don’t think! just fluff <3 actually it’s not really proofread so lmk if there are mistakes!

pairing — akaashi x gn!reader

wordcount — 400

a/n — hi guys! anime phase hitting real hard rn if you couldn’t tell by all my latest works LMFAO i haven’t written for him surprisingly so here u go!

“how do you know when you’re in love with someone?”

“huh?”

he’s yet to find an answer. he’s looked up thousands of questions, read hundreds of articles, and took at least ten quizzes. but the thought still lingers as something mysterious in his mind. something that he doesn’t know the answer to just yet.

“what are you talking about?” you ask, your ears fade into a light shade of pink.

akaashi is patient. he’s a very patient man. for example, when bokuto has his moments on court where you can’t be anything but patient to win the game, or when he’s teaching you the basics of volleyball.

but for some reason his mind itches for an answer. he can’t wait and think this one out.

“i’m being serious.”

“you called me at two a.m. for this? i’m studying y’know!” you whisper yell into your phone, he can see the look on your face. your eyebrows cutely scrunched up and a frown plastered onto your face.

he chuckles lowly, a small fry in his voice because of his exhaustion. “who else would i call for this?”

you sigh, “i don’t know, bokuto? he gives pretty good advice sometimes.”

“his bedtime is nine p.m. he would never disobey his mom.”

“even on the weekend?”

“force of habit, i guess.”

a silence washes over you two. and he can feel that itching feeling once again.

he’s acting irrationally, he knows it. but being awake into the late hours of the night messes with his brain, and makes him do things he wouldn’t even think to do.

the steady beat of his heart grows at a rapid pace, he can feel it almost beating out of his chest.

you start up again, “i guess,” you hesitate for just a second, “you know when you’ve fallen in love when you look at then and realise that you would do anything—or give up anything for them, does that make sense?”

“yeah that makes sense, okay thank you, i’m hanging up now.”

“what? that’s all you wanted?”

he chuckles again, “yup that’s all i needed. bye, i love you y/n. don’t study too hard.”

“i’ll try,” you let out a breathy laugh, “love you too akaashi—wait what?”

he hangs up before you can say anything else.

akaashi is a very patient man. but for some reason he’s the opposite when it comes to you.

yenqa © do not copy, steal or translate.

[shu-porang-porang]

Cat In Heat

You got him a little surprise!

(sequel: Bunny In Heat)

Pairs: Lee Minho (Lee Know) / fem!reader

Rating: Very Explicit!

Theme: Smut, 18+ NO MINORS.

Warnings: oral, fingering, butt plug, spanking, unprotected sex (do not try at home!), (I think that's enough! let's keep some elements of surprise!)

Word count: 2.8 k

You received a text from Minho: “Hey baby, I’m gonna hit the gym and grab a bite with Jisung next.”

He arrived at 4 a.m. so you didn’t expect him to go to the gym first thing when he woke up, but apparently that’s what he’s gonna do. He was away for only 3 days but you missed him so much it was gnawing at your every fiber. Last night you only noticed his arrival when the mattress dipped next to you and then he spooned you. You tried to fight your sleep weary eyes and wake up to greet him properly but his warmth and the comfort of his presence lulled you back to sleep seconds later. When you woke up this morning, leaving the bed was the hardest thing, you just wanted to stay tangled up with his limbs but you had to leave for work. You slowly slipped out the bed, trying to not wake him up in the process, then placed the softest kiss on his temple, you couldn’t wait to get back and feast on his lips later.

You can’t wait for this work day to be over. Your mind is somewhere else entirely, you’re thinking of the little gift you prepared for him. Two days ago was Valentines Day and he was away. Since it was your first valentine together, you were bummed that you couldn’t spend it with him, but you knew what you got yourself into when you started dating a very busy idol, so you put up a front and did your best to assure him it didn’t matter and you weren’t upset. There’s no point in making a fuss about it anyway, it’s not like they would cancel their plans because you wanted to be with your boyfriend. He said he’d make it up to you later and you decided you can plan a belated valentine when he’s back. Little did he know, you’ve been preparing something for him for weeks. You just can’t decide on the right time to give it to him.

You’re done for the day and there’s nothing else for you to do at work, you ask your boss if you could leave earlier and he says yes. So, you rush to your shared apartment. You have some time before he’s home so you decide to unpack his suitcase. As you’re going through his stuff, you find a box of chocolate, you can’t read the Japanese written all over it, but there’s no doubt it’s chocolate. He always brings you some souvenir so without giving it much thought, you open the box and try one. Well, it’s nothing special, just descent chocolate. Not every souvenir has to be something unique, right? You place it on the drawer and go back to your task at hand.

As time passes by, you start to feel impatient and on edge. It’s like when you have lots of caffein and you get jittery, except that it’s more of a warm feeling, it settles deep in your stomach. It’s not exactly uncomfortable but you’re not sure what’s causing it so you decide to distract yourself by checking the little surprise you got for Minho. You take out the stuff you hid in the back of your bottom drawer and sprawl them out on the bed. It’s an outfit you’ve put together. White and pink lingerie, stockings, garters, a chocker, and few other accessories, but the most exciting parts of the ensemble are the fluffy cat ears and tail. You pick up the tail, feel the weight of the plug attached to it. It was the last item you got and you haven’t come around to try it yet. Suddenly you worry you won’t be able to wear it. What if you can’t get used to it and have to take it off? You don’t know when you’re gonna give him his gift, but you decide to try it now that you’re alone and see if you can handle it.

You take your pants and panties off, hold the tail in your hand, not sure how to go about it. You poke the tip of the shiny plug to your hole but you stop as you can’t get it in even the slightest. Idiot! You need to prepare with lube first! Your hands fidget through the drawer with excitement in search for the lube you bought. You picked a very specific flavor, caramel, hoping it would taste similar to pudding! Too bad they didn’t have a pudding flavor! You lather a finger up and try again. It’s really uncomfortable but you wanna do it for him and you will do it. It’s a weird feeling, having a finger up your butt, and you think there’s no way it’s gonna get loose enough for the plug to fit in but you don’t give up. The warm feeling in your stomach from earlier encourages you to keep going. You move that finger around till you feel less resistance, then you take it out to lube up two fingers this time. You don’t wanna get too loose or the plug will fall out? Is that even a thing? You don’t know, so you decide to give the plug a try. You carefully pour lube on the plug, you don’t wanna ruin the fur, then you push it in and it fits perfectly! You clench and unclench your sphincter a few times, testing how it feels, then you stand up and check yourself in the mirror.

Watching the tail dangling from between your butt cheeks turns you on instantly. You immediately rid yourself of the rest of your clothes to put all the parts of the ensemble on. You pose in front of the mirror. You spend some time putting on a light cute makeup while enjoying a second piece of chocolate, then take another look at your entire outfit. Wow! You look so fuckable!! If only Minho got home sooner. You take a photo of your thigh hugged tightly by the stockings and the garter and send it to him along with: “Are you really gonna hang out with that stupid Ji while I’m waiting for you like this?” 

A few seconds later you receive a text from him: “On my way, be there in 10 minutes”

He finally gets home. He’s heart been racing since he laid eyes on that photo and he’s been sporting a semi-hard cock all along. Good thing his oversized hoodie covered it up. He opens the door to the apartment to find you stretched out on the couch, practically humping a cushion.

“Holy fuck! What’s gotten into you today?” He says as he approaches you in disbelief. His eyes scanning your outfit and becoming wide in shock as he notices the tail poking from under the mini skirt covering your ass.

“I’m just being hot for my boyfriend, is that wrong?” You say, stretching like a cat and raising your ass in the air. The skirt rides up and he sees that the tail isn’t a strap on or attached to the skirt.

He kneels next to the couch, running a hand up your thigh till it reaches where the tail inserts your body. He gives the plug an experimental push that draws a whimper from you.

“Kitty’s in heat, huh? What a naughty lil kitty. I’ll take care of you, pussy cat.” His hand comes in contact with your drenching pussy as he says the last word. You mewl in need. Your skin is on fire and his touch feels too good to be true. You can’t think straight, all you know is that you need him next to you, on you, in you, you just want him to take you right then and there.

He picks you up effortlessly and carries you to the bedroom, plops you on the bed and causes the plug to go a bit deeper, drawing a hiss from you. You sit up and get on your knees, reaching for his hand to drag him to bed.

“Easy baby, what’s the rush?” He says as his free hand is unbuttoning his shirt. Despite your needy erratic movements, he’s so calm, mostly just enjoying the view of your eagerness.

As soon as he gets on the bed, you reach to unbuckle his belt. He watches you in silence, the way your dainty fingers struggle with the belt and his waistband. You pull his pants and boxers down and he eases out of them. His cock springs free and you don’t hesitate to attach your lips to it. Usually it’s not how things go, you haven’t even kissed him once since he arrived, but your head is filled with carnal desires and you don’t need foreplay to get in the mood.

He leans back on his elbows as your head bobs up and down on his member, bringing it to life fast. You lick a fat stripe from the base to the top, your tongue teases the head with playful licks, his low grunts are melody to your ears. Precum pearls on the tip and you collect it all with your tongue. You wrap your lips around the tip again and give it a few sucks. He sits back up to stop you.

“I won’t last long if you keep that up.” he lifts your chin up, and fixes your cat ear headpiece “Aigoo! What a dirty little kitty.” He coos at you with his eyes fixed on your lips, all swollen and red, so kissable. You get the cue and move closer, clashing your lips. Kissing him after days feels like you’ve been deprived of oxygen and you can finally breathe. You straddle him, your fingers in his soft locks, his hands around your shoulders, your chests heave against one another. You push him on his back as you deepen the kiss, you hungrily suck on his tongue and pull his lips between your teeth. You only stop when your lungs are burning. You hide your face in his neck as you’re gasping for air, your core finding a rhyme to ride his thigh. You moan out his name at the new found friction. You’re not wearing any panties; you thought it wouldn’t be practical with a plug up your butt. Your slick coats his muscular thigh.

“Is kitty having a good time?”

“…mmh” you can’t form words, your brain already signed off and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You suck a spot under his ear while his hand reaches down to squeeze your butt cheek under the skirt.

“Then do me a favor and sit that pretty pussy down on my face.”

You don’t hesitate to follow his order. His tongue skillfully laps at your wet core, his nose nudges your clit. You try not to move but you have no control over your body anymore. Your hips move on their own, riding his face, so he gives your ass a slap as a warning. A loud squeak escapes your lips. You do your best to behave but how can you when now he’s sucking on your clit, while hooking a finger inside you and toying with the plug at the same time. He stops all stimulations at once when he realizes your close.

“…Min…… please”

“Naughty kitties don’t get to come so easily. Now get on fours”

You comply, what else would you do? You’d jump off a cliff if he told you so. You wiggle your ass to his face as he’s closely observing where the plug disappears inside you. Your outfit’s still intact but it’s not gonna last long. He pulls the plug out without warning and replaces it with his tongue. Instantly you hear his satisfied groan, he’s probably enjoying your choice of lubricant. You push back on his face, needing more friction. He brings a hand to rub around your clit while his teeth graze your rim. Your arousal drips shamelessly on the sheets, it’s like a leaky faucet, that’s how good he’s having you now. You never even imagined having your asshole eaten would feel good, something’s really gotten into you. He stops his ministrations just as you’re starting to feel the orgasm build up for the second time. He steps back to admire the view before shoving the plug back in and give you new instructions.

“Close your thighs and press them tight for me princess.”

You look back and see him aligning his oozing cock.

“Just… fuck me… already”

“Too soon…” he forcefully shoves his cock in the small gap between your thighs “…ughhh….for that”

After a few thrusts, he’s fully covered in your juices so he picks up the pace as it slides easier. His member rubs on your clit with every thrust but it’s nowhere near enough to get you off. He gives you a slap that makes you press your thighs harder, so he gives you another, and another, and another. You press your head to the pillow to muffle your yelps. You think you might be reaching a climax this time but no. He takes the plug out and flips you around. This time you don’t just complain with words, but tears are running down your face. You’re a mess.

“Oh little kitty, why the tears? Was I too harsh with my sweet angel?” he says as he towers over you and leans to kiss your tears away.

“No…. just….wanna cum”

“You will baby. You will”

He kisses your face some more and moves down to your neck and chest. He yanks your frilly chocker with his teeth and throws it on the bed, so he can properly kiss and mark your neck. Then he unhooks the lacy matching bra and discards it somewhere else in the room. His hands come in contact with your soft breasts, his thumbs rub your nipples simultaneously and your lips part in a whimper.

“My gorgeous lil kitty” he admires as he continues to knead your breasts and then dips to take one pebbled nipple between his teeth. His tongue twirls around it and he closes his lips on it to suck. His hand travels south to slip between your folds and find your entrance. He has two fingers inside you, with his thumb pressing down on your clit. You buck your hips up to his touch. He lets go of your nipple and comes back up to kiss your lips with his fingers still inside you. You’re so lost in the hot sloppy kiss that before you know it, his dick takes the place of his fingers in you. Fucking finally!

You bite his shoulder as he bottoms out in one go and the stretch overwhelms you. He moans in your ear from your delicious tightness.

“Please….Move baby” you plead and he obeys. Caging you between his hands on either side of your head, he takes his sweet time with slow thrusts. He pushes your thighs to your chest and throws your legs over his shoulders. With this new angle he reaches deep inside, hitting your cervix with every single thrust. It doesn’t take you long to feel the knot in your stomach again for the… you don’t even know how many times he got you there and left you unfulfilled. You tightly hold onto him as his thrusts get faster.

“ugh… gonna…. c..cum…”

“Cum for me… angel” he kisses your parted lips, muffling your moans, as your orgasm finally washes over you. He reaches a hand down to pinch your clit, your entire body jolts with each pinch as you’re riding out your orgasm. It’s the best orgasm you’ve ever had, well, you’d say that about every orgasm with him, but this one really hits different. Your fluttering walls around him milk him dry and a string of curses leaves his lips as he joins you. He rides his climax, still thrusting into you until your mixed cum forms a ring around his base.

He pulls out and falls on top of you, you don’t mind the weight, you’re too tired to care anyway and he feels like a heavy blanket, you don’t even care about your sticky bodies or sheets. You think you could die happy at this moment but he gets up to clean you before you drift off to sleep. He takes a good look at your fucked out state “Gosh! Baby you’re so hot. I love you so much”. You smile with your eyes closed “love you too”. You’re almost entering dreamland when he startles you:

“Fuck! Baby you ate these chocolates?” He found the open box of chocolates you left on the drawer.

“..mhmm”

“Did you know these were aphrodisiacs?”

“WHAT?” suddenly you’re fully awake, your eyes darting towards his direction.

“I wanted to try them together.” He says with an evident pout on his face.

“There’s still plenty left bunny boy.”

[anastacialy]

no i understand him because if i was colin i'd be mad jealous of penelope too. like damn you made that much money by eloquently talking shit?

[golden-ebony]

To Love You Is To Know You ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

♡ Pairing: Logan Howlett/female!Reader

♡ Word Count: 7.3k

♡ Rating: Explicit 18+

♡ Warning/Tags: smut, minor dni, good mix of fluff & angst, brief mention of mutant abuse, no use of y/n, unprotected sex, p to v sex, fingering, oral sex, FLUFF FLUFF, cross-post from AO3

♡ Summary: "Logan has never been an open person. Despite you wanting to love him with everything you had, how could you if he continuously kept you at an emotional arm’s length?"

♡ Note: I haven't written in FOREVER and I got locked out of my old writing account @printedpeterparker from 2 years ago! But dare I say?? We're sooo back! Might even post some revised posts from my previous account.

The sounds of the city seemed amplified tonight. You were drifting in and out of sleep, never finding a rhythm. You were close to finding that rhythm until the sounds of old floorboards and the creaky bedroom door filled the room as well.

He was home.

3:56 A.M.

Heavy steps slowly waltzed into the room. The door was softly closed behind them. Logan never liked to wake you, yet he always did. The blame wasn’t entirely on him and his inability to be discreet in this old apartment. Logan’s apartment was particularly loud. If it wasn’t the furnace rattling, it was police sirens flooding the night. You couldn’t stand being here alone. But with Logan? There was a sweet comfort when you got to hear his heart rate slow when you lay on his chest.

At this point, you had spent multiple nights at Logan’s while your apartment building was being fumigated. Your night would be going well until you saw him get a text or call from Wade. He’d tell you that he had to leave and would be back as soon as he could. Every time, he got better at dodging your questions. You would try and wait for him, but you never could make it past 1:30.

And just like all of the nights before this one, he would immediately head toward the bathroom for a shower, not wanting you to see him in his present condition, you assumed. The shower ran, steam and light slipping into the room from the crack door. He never wanted to get into what he was doing with Wade under the cover of night. Wade would jest that they were simply partaking in the world’s oldest profession as “men of the night.” Logan would snark, but it was always clear that he didn’t want to talk about it— not with you, at least.

“I don’t want you to know me like that.”

“And if I did?”

“It’s not something I like to think about.”

The conversation rang in your mind like a broken record as the shower ran. Pressing the issue during the witching hours didn’t seem like the time then. Then again, it never felt like the time. You weren’t native to what Logan could do or had done. You could only imagine what he was actually doing. There were times where he selected to be more forthcoming about his past, probably still sparing you the worst of it. The worst of him, maybe. 

But you’ve seen the remnants of blood, never sure if it’s his or not, in the bathroom, despite Logan’s best attempts to not leave a trace of his night. As the water stopped, you could always listen for the inevitable groans of Logan and the ripping of paper towels, an unique part of his night shower regiment. The bathroom light eventually turned off, only the glow from the street lights outside draped the room. You felt the slight breeze on your back and Logan lifted the comforter, shifting the weight of the bed as he climbed in.  He instinctively pulled you close to his bare chest, wrapping his arm around your abdomen At this point, you both knew you were awake.

A deep and throaty sigh escaped his lips, one he had probably been holding in since he made it home. You melted into his embrace, the city only seemed to whisper— finally feeling at rest.

You lifted his hand from your abdomen, softly laying two kisses in gaps between his knuckles. Your hand laid over his before placing it back on your abdomen. An act that made Logan flinch the first few times you did it had now fully stripped him of every defense. 

No words were spoken. Yet, his words still rang.

Logan hadn’t fully woken up. His eyes still remained shut, but he was alone. His hand lazily swept where you had laid; warmth still radiated next to him. With furrowed brows, his eyes tried adjusted to the gleam of the sun

“I was going to let you sleep a little longer, Lo” your voice was barely above a whisper His eyes swiftly found you standing in the doorframe of his bathroom, fully awake now. Logan propped himself up to admire you in your red shorts, white t-shirt, and the sweetest smile as you sauntered over to his side of the bed. “You got in pretty late.” 

“Yeah, didn’t think I’d be out that late…” His words dropped off as he watched you take a seat next to him, running your hand across his defined chest. “It’s mostly Wade and his damn mouth that holds us up.” 

“Hm, wanna talk about it?” you hummed, perking yourself up a little. 

Logan’s lust-filled eyes had been unchanged since he spotted you in the doorframe. A look that made you think he would tear your shorts off with his teeth if he had to.  He wanted to.

He sat up further before snaking his arm around your waist, fingers pressed into your side. “Now why would I talk about that bum when I got the sweetest thing right here? C’mere.” A short gasp escaped your lips as he swiftly pulled you onto his lap. As you straddled his hips, he steadied your hips with one strong hand while the other ran under your tee and up your spine. You felt like a schoolgirl with the way he made you blush. 

Before you could mutter a word, Logan’s hungry lips were already on yours. You couldn’t help but to cup his breaded cheeks into your hands. Soft moans and grunts mixed between your lips, but your mind began to drift, knowing Logan evaded your question without missing a beat. Regardless, your body felt like it could only react to his touch, especially while his lips slipped down to your pulse. You felt your breath hitch in your throat.

Sometimes, you hated how good he was at getting you going.

“Logan…” Every part of you wanted that to come out sternly. It definitely didn’t. You were still trying to catch your breath. In fact, hearing his name fall from your lips only lit a flame in him

“C’mon, baby,” Logan’s voice was low against your neck, tracing your pulse with his lips, “tell me what you want.”

“I-I want…” You couldn’t even think straight, but if you didn’t get this out now, you might as well just surrender, “I w-want you to tell me why-y there are so-o many bloody towels in the garbage.”

Logan paused for a moment. You took the moment to lean back to meet his furrowed eyeline. He was shrugging, “Just from cleaning up this morning. I’ll take the garbage out, alright?” He pulled you in again, but pulled back, still eyeing him.

“Logan, what were you doing last night? Or any of those other nights?” you softly asked, trailing your hands over his shoulders. His hands still lazily sat on your waist and, now, your lower back. 

“Baby, I don’t wanna get into it this morning,” he matched your tone while slowly rubbing your lower back. You sighed before rolling off of him. Logan groaned due to the loss of contact. “What? C’mon, sweetheart.” He reached for you, but you swatted at his hand. 

You faced Logan, sitting criss-crossed on the bed. “Then when? When can we get into it? This afternoon? This evening? At least before you leave again tonight?” You knew you were tuned up just from our own thoughts at night. You had played this conversation over and over again in the head last night.

To your misfortune, unlike your surprise, it wasn’t going how you had wanted.

He wiped his face with a groan before crossing his arms. “I work. I get paid.”

“Doing what?”

Logan’s face was now firm as was yours. Every ounce of romance had been replaced with tension, but your question hung in the air like a cloud threatening rain.

“I told you, I—”

“Don’t want me to know you like that,” you finished, “but I want to know you, Logan. All of you! You’re my boyfriend and my favorite person to be with, and I don’t even know what you do for work! Doesn’t that sound a little ridiculous?” your voice was slightly raised, your tone short. You were digging your heels in.

But so was Logan.

“Wade gets us jobs; they’re all different. Do you want me to detail every still job I’ve ever done?” his voice was raised slightly higher. “You don’t trust me or something?”

You rolled your eyes before completing getting off the bed, “I trust you to be you and trust that you’re trying to sell me some version of the truth in order to make me feel better or at least shut me up. And I know it’s because you care, Lo. I can only imagine what you’re doing, there’s literally bloody towels in the bathroom, for Christ sake! More than I’ve ever seen. But I wouldn’t have to imagine if you just talked to me! I want you to trust me enough to talk to me, confide in me,” you felt like you were begging; you ought to be on your knees at this point.

“Well, if I need ya, I’ll let ya know.” As soon as the words whipped off his lips, he regretted it. You huffed, frustrated tears quickly brimming your eyes. Logan immediately got up, but you were already heading toward the bathroom. “Look, baby, I’m sorry,” Logan was able to catch your arm. You immediately pulled it away and turned to face him. Despite your best efforts to hold in your tears, one broke away.

“I want to love you so bad, Logan, so fucking bad, but you make it so goddamn hard sometimes.” You didn’t even want to wait for his response. You stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door in Logan’s dejected face. He wanted to follow you, but it would only make things worse.  All he could do is listen to your back slide down the door while soft sobs left your lips.

You wish you could’ve stormed out of the apartment, not face Logan for the rest of the day. You ended up taking a shower, mainly because you needed one, but also to drown out any remaining frustrated, tearful sniffles. You knew Logan could hear you before, but you meant what you said.

Despite you wanting to love him with everything you had, how could you if he continuously kept you at an emotional arm’s length? 

Although you never wanted to push him, getting Logan to open up by any degree was like pulling teeth. When it came to his past, you didn’t expect him to tell you everything overnight. It was obviously painful; some nights, he was still plagued with nightmares. But every time you soothed him after a nightmare,  with every comforting hand kiss, you thought Logan was learning to trust you, finding comfort in you. 

But if you didn’t have trust, you weren’t sure what the two of you had. Maybe you weren’t ready to admit that to yourself.

The comforting warmth of the shower was running cold now. After hopping out, you slowly moved into Logan’s room. He wasn’t there but the bed was made. You got yourself dressed but stopped and wondered if it would be best just to pack your things. Maybe it’d be better to stay with a friend for a while. For now, you just needed to leave.

You could hear Logan rattling on the other side of the door. You began dreading the imminent conflict. If it wasn’t going to be confrontational, it was at least going to be awkward. After throwing on some jeans and a black t-shirt, you took a breath before opening the creaky door.

You didn’t immediately see Logan, only the empty living room. You walked out toward the door, but his voice calling your name stopped you dead in your tracks. The call was soft; nevertheless, he called for you as if he had been nervously preparing for your arrival. You turned toward the kitchen to see Logan, also in jeans and a t-shirt. He had two large coffees in front of him and a white paper bag.

“Are you trying to bribe me into staying,” you asked lowly, but Logan could sense the hint of humor in your voice. 

“More like a bribe to get you to talk to me, again, “ he lifted one of the coffees toward you with a nervous chuckle, “well, me talk, you listen. But if you still wanna leave…I won’t stop you either.”

You nodded with a mumbled okay before moving to the coach. Logan silently joined you, handing you both the coffee and the bag. You took a peek into the bag to see two cinnamon muffin tops— your favorite. You took a sip of the coffee. Sure enough, that was perfect too. You placed the bag and coffee along with Logan’s on the table for the time being.

“You have my attention,” you slightly smiled. A part of you wished you could stay mad at him for longer. 

Logan smiled too as if he could breathe a little better. A part of him wished he could stand you being upset with him, even just a little bit.

You both sat silently for a moment, waiting for the other.  Logan leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees and rubbing his palms. After seeing him take multiple short deep breaths, you realized what you were witnessing.

Logan was nervous. 

You had only seen Logan nervous on one other occasion. When he picked you up for your first date, he didn’t realize that the camera in front of your apartment door activated when someone approached it. You watched him run the same routine from the breathing to the palm rub.

“Look, I’m not good at this,” Logan began, “Not just the talking bits but making the right choices like what I tell, what I don’t tell you— how much versus how little. Because the last thing I want is to scare you off and lose you. But this morning, for a second, that’s what I saw happening.”

You stayed quiet, not wanting to interrupt what probably was a conversation Logan ran through his head multiple times over this morning. Instead, you provided a reassuring smile.

Logan leaned back onto the couch with his arms crossed, “So, what do you wanna know? Whatever you wanna know, I’ll tell ya.”

Despite having questions running through your mind multiple times over for the past few nights, your mind drew a quick blank. You took a quick sip of your coffee, hoping the caffeine would guide your mind a little better.

“You say that Wade gets both of you these jobs. Typically, what are the jobs?” you asked, leaning back onto the couch with him.

Logan cocked his head back, staring at the moving ceiling fan instead of you. “They really can be anything. Everyone’s got problems. We don’t accept every job. Still, it can be small like scaring off an intense ex for a girl to something not so small like uh, taking down a trafficking ring. The one with the ex, no one gets hurt; it really doesn’t take much to scare punks like that, y’know? The other? It can get…messy.”

You nodded and leaned back with him, turning to face him instead of the fan, “And last night?”

He took a deep sigh and shook his head. The room fell silent again for a beat too long. The question obviously hit a sour spot in him; it probably hit worse when he was unexpectedly asked this morning.

Your hand snaked down to your side. You wrapped your hand over Logan’s, rubbing your thumb over the very visible veins. His head tilted to the side to meet your soft stare with another reassuring smile.

“If it’s too much right now, Lo, w—”

“You know that there are actual mutant trafficking rings?” Logan bluntly asked you. Your reassuring smile lessened; Logan could read the concern all over your face as your hand gripped his. 

“Not just adults but kids. We got this job to bring this mutant kid back to his parents. The money seemed like a lot upfront but hey, if I had a kid, I’d do anything to make sure they were okay. But when we found this kid, what he told me and Wade…the kid showed us where they’d really take him, not the bullshit address we were told to bring him. All these kids…” His eyes closed as the memories flashed before him. His jaw was clenched, his hand fisted under yours. Your sympathetic hand moved up his forearm, hoping to soothe his thoughts. Once Logan's eyes opened again, your gaze was still on him. Logan found himself a little more grounded not only by your touch but your eyes— eyes that never had to see the horrors that he had but were understanding, nonetheless. His fist relaxed back into an open hand. 

“I think I just lost it. We got ‘em all out, but everyone else there, the guy that hired us? I killed them. Not me and Wade; just me. I saw a version of myself, one I haven't seen in years.” Although Logan had admitted to details about his life, situations that he had found himself in, you couldn’t remember a time that he was so blatant about his actions. There were no assumptions to be made this time; just the truth. And it was clear that sitting with the truth was hard for Logan. Whether it was the action itself or admitting that he alone committed a slaughter, his continuously clenched jaw was proof of the struggle to discuss it.

“And you deserve to know the type of guy you’re with, sweetheart.”

You furrowed your browline and removed your hand from his, placing it on his cheek. Reactionarily, he leaned into your touch. This didn’t stop him from still scanning your face for any hint of hesitation, disgust, horror— perhaps originate to your plan of leaving. He didn’t find any of that.

“I do, it’s all I wanted to know,” you sighed, slowly caressing his jaw. “And I got the best guy, no question.” You softly kissed his cheek, a small smile crept on Logan’s face, but part of him didn’t believe you. As much as you meant it, he struggled with believing it himself. 

“I’ve hurt more people than I can count, sweetheart.”

“I know,” you sat up next to him, slightly leaning over him, “but I also like to think that you have helped more people than you’ll ever realize.”

You pressed a small kiss to his lips before lifting up one of his hands, “And these,” you pressed two kisses around the knuckles like this morning, “they’ve also helped more people than they’ve hurt…and on occasion, the hands themselves have been know make a girl feel good.” You received a genuine, deep laugh from him only causing you to laugh as well.

Again, it fell silent. This silence was comforting. You kept his hand in yours again as you gazed upon your gruff man. His face was now more relaxed and soft. You’d swear that you had memorized every detail of his visage in the months you had been together. You hadn’t even realized that Logan was studying you as well.

You lightly lifted the peaks of his hair before tracing his hairline, “You’re a good guy, Logan. Complicated but good.” Your lips shortly met his for the second time that day, this time with no alternative motive or your mind racing— just Logan’s slow lips against yours.

The coffee and pastries on the coffee table were long forgotten, both warming and cooling to the same temperature. Reminiscent of earlier, your legs hugged his bulky thighs as you straddled him. His hand traveled from your lower back to the tops of your thighs, wishing you had opted out of putting on jeans for the day. You gripped his shoulders for balance, but it was hard not to have at least one hand travel to his solid chest. Even the slightest movement felt nothing short of perfect to Logan. A throaty moan escaped his lips but was quickly drowned out by your own moan.

“Logan,” you muttered against his lips, your words almost being drowned out as well. He positively hummed in response. You paused for a beat. You lifted Logan’s chin with your fingers, effectively removing his lips from yours. His uncertain eyes looked into yours as he was sure he was about to be teased again today.

“I love you,” you whispered as if it was a secret between the two of you. On the contrary, you would love to scream it to the world, too. Logan was taken aback.

He didn’t think it would take three simple words strung into one of the most common phrases to put him at a loss for words. It wasn’t the words that left him awestruck— it was the woman saying them.

You.

Logan knew he could be abrasive, cold, distant, frustrating. Regardless of his best efforts, you saw those sides of him, especially in the beginning of you knowing him. Like today, those traits he tried to deeply bury when with you would rear their ugly heads at times. 

When that would happen, Logan would give you the same spiel, along the lines of ‘I’d understand if you wanted to end things’ or ‘You deserve some who…’ . Not because he didn’t want you; you’d become everything to him in such a short amount of time. He just wanted you to be sure.

Despite those conversations, you didn’t leave. Despite Logan’s fears that you’d wake up one day and realize you were making the worst decision by being with him, you straddled his lap, hands rubbing his shoulders, and telling him that you loved him. 

Him.

It wasn’t until now that Logan realized that he was probably staring at you like a dumbfounded idiot for way too long. You sat up a little straighter, the shame of rejection started to creep into your mind. You offered a soft smile anyway.

“You don’t have to say it back, but you should know. Even when you don’t, I love you, all of you.”

Logan couldn’t even stand the fact that you thought, even for a second, that he didn’t feel the same. He caressed your cheek before quickly pulling you into a passionate kiss that sent a chill down your spine and to your core. Even if he didn’t say it, you could feel it in the kiss. The slowed down tempo was different as if Logan was savoring both the moment and taste of your lips. You slightly pulled his t-shirt, pulling him a little deeper.

His hands traveled down your back until they were spread across your ass. You couldn’t help but to grind your hips against his growing cock. You tugged his shirt upward, feeling Logan’s broad, haired chest. With a short separation, you lifted his and your tops, forgoing your bra as well, tossing them in a direction you paid no mind to at the time. With your bare chests pressed together, your lips joined again. Logan guided your hips against his. Each snap of your hips made the strain on his jeans tighter, increasing the contact with your clit. Your hips, your moans— they danced with each other in harmony.

With a quick hoist, Logan lifted you with his stance, his hands more firmly on your ass. Your legs instinctually wrapped around his waist while gripping his shoulders. Your laughing lips vibrated against his. 

Logan mumbled something against your lips that you can’t quite seem to make out. It was short, maybe your name. You break away from his lips, his forehead resting on yours. Before you could tease him as planned, Logan planted one more kiss on your lips.

“I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you, baby. Y’know that?” Logan whispered, his lips dangerously close to yours. This felt like a secret of his own— one that made your heart flutter, and more surprisingly, your panties soaked. 

“It’s not just the fact that I’m a topless girl that you have by ass right now making you say that?” you teased with a hand running through the back of his hair.

“Doesn’t hurt,” he huff looking down at your exposed chest, nodding to himself. Smart ass. You playfully snorted before slightly tugging at his roots causing Logan’s eyes to roll back with a groan. Slight pain, all pleasure. Your lips were immediately attached again.

A mix of messy open mouth kisses and moans had you both feeling like teenagers as Logan moved you both to his bedroom. The creaky door to the room bounced off your back. Logan was quick to gently lay you onto the center of the bed but even quicker to join you, his knee pressed between your legs. With his lips attached to your neck, hands palming your breasts, and the slight pressure to your pulsing cunt, you whimpered. You scooted yourself further onto Logan’s thigh, temporarily satisfying the ache between your legs with a slow grind. You were cursing the denim the both of you were wearing. 

“Easy, sweetheart,” Logan warned against your warmed skin. He peppered kisses from your neck to your collarbone to the tops of your breasts, nipping your skin along the way. His flattened tongue dragged down to your nipple, wetting and flicking his tongue against it. He paid the same attention to your other breast, alternating between both. “Hmm, so goddamn beautiful,” he breathed between your wetted mounds

You were a whimpering mess as you watched him, arching into his touch. You still couldn’t help but to ride his thigh, the denim hitting your clit just right. You let your head fall back onto the mattress, taking in every sensation. Your hands choose to grasp the flexing muscles of his back, riding his thigh a little less than haphazardly.

Logan’s attention moved away from your chest when he began to notice you trying to get yourself off again. He moved further off the bed, causing you to lose the desired contact with his thigh. Your head shot up with a groan only to see Logan undoing your jeans.

Logan shook his head as if he was scolding you. “If you’re even thinking about coming,” two fingers on either side rimmed the waistband of your jeans and underwear. The slowness of his action only grew your impatience and neediness, “I wanna feel it all, baby.” 

He was slow to pull down your jeans, knowing the pace was agonizing, knowing your pussy was pulsing with anticipation. Your breathing was ragged, your mind foggy. You quickly shuffle your jeans past your ass, keeping your legs lifted, but Logan only wanted to tease you and watch you wither.

“Baby, please, I need you.” It felt like your whines were falling on deaf ears as Logan was admiring each inch of your newly exposed skin from your stomach to your hips to your thighs. Wet kisses were placed on each area, inching closer to where you needed him most. You couldn’t even focus on the dirty whispers he lied behind each mark.

It wasn’t until your jeans slid down toward your knees that you felt Logan’s grip on your thighs ever so tightened, his breathing becoming uneven, and a throaty ‘fuckin’ christ’ escape his lips. He could smell the sweet scent of your arousal on your cunt ever since you were grinding on his cock on the couch, but with every barrier surrendered and centimeters from his face, every primal instinct in his body came alive. 

Logan made quick work of removing both your jeans and underwear, to your surprise and pleasure. “The sweetest fuckin’ thing, I swear.” It came off like a growl from his lips as he hiked both of your legs over his shoulders.

Before another begged whimper could leave  your lips, Logan’s tongue was desperately lapping up the wetness from your slick core just for it to remplish with the same speed. There was no sweeter taste in the world to him. 

Your volume was lost on yourself. His neighbors would just have to understand. The brief contact had you embarrassingly close to your climax already, and it sounded like it.

With his lips on your clit, you felt his index finger slick up against your folds before plunging into your soaking heat. Logan’s lust-filled eyes made contact with your needy ones. Without even thrusting his finger, just like his thigh, your hips grinded against his finger. You were practically begging him for another digit. 

He hummed against your clit, the vibration sending shockwaves to your core, “That’s it, baby,” With the addition of his middle finger, the pace of your grind quickened, riding Logan’s fingers and tongue, “show me how bad you want it.”

“Bad…I need you so bad, baby,” you cried, feeling you were mere seconds from bursting like a dam. Your juices were streaming onto Logan’s fingers and into his palm as you gripped around his fingers; the dam was already burst at the seams, “S’close, baby.”

Logan already knew, allowing his fingers and tongue to get you off exactly how you needed now.

“S’fucking pretty when you’re drippin’ all over me,” Logan muttered between licks, curling his fingers to reach your spot, “Give it to me, baby.”

That was all you needed before you felt the dam burst. Your hands were all throughout Logan’s hair, bracing yourself. Your road Logan’s fingers through your high, knowing you were making a mess all over his hand and mouth. A mix of profanities and his name fell from your lips like prayers— prayers that had finally been answered as you came down from your high. Your knees relaxed over Logan’s shoulders, letting your legs fall to his sides. You came out of your daze to see Logan sucking the remnants of your orgasm from his fingers, the visual made your pussy pulse again.

“Don’t worry about the mess,” Logan jested before planting a kiss to the inside of your thigh. He stood up from the bed, reaching for his belt; you could tell his cock was aching.

Feeling your second wind, you sat on your knees on the bed, reaching for Logan’s belt as well. Always more than willing— really loving— to return the favor, Logan knew exactly what he needed. Yet, he let you work.

You looked up at him through your lashes, undoing his belt, button, and zipper anyway. Your hand brushed over her constrained cock, earning a moan from Logan. He softly gripped your wrist, your innocent-looking eyes still gazing upon him. By the tilt of your head, he knew that you knew what you were doing; you always did. It still made his cock twitch.

A smirk crept on your face as you rolled your wrist out of Logan’s hand, “Then you tell me what you want, Lo,” you softly spoke, running your hands on his chest and pressing a kiss between his pecs.

He lifted your chin, capturing your lips into his, “I think you can taste what I want,” Logan muttered against your lips. You definitely could. You pulled him closer by cupping his cheeks, feeling remnants of your juices bedded in his beard. 

The ache between your legs returned. At this point, it felt greedy to want Logan this bad after the intense finish you just had. 

Your lips never left his as Logan finished pulling off his jeans and briefs. It took more than willpower not to reach for his cock, knowing it was already leaking with pre-cum.

“Lay back, sweetheart.” You were quick to comply, but Logan was quicker to join you. Before you could even fully position yourself, Logan’s face was in the crook of your neck, leaving marks he’d probably pepper sweet kisses on later. He propped your legs for you, his cock slightly grazing your folds. Felt like he was at heaven’s gates.

He wetted his cock on your slicked cunt, running against your clit. Your knees fell to your sides, opening yourself further to him. Your breath hitched in your throat before bracing yourself, arms wrapped around Logan’s back. He removed himself from your neck. If there was one thing Logan needed to see, it was seeing every part of your face fall into pleasure when he slid in you.

“I know, baby, I know,” Logan cooed before slowly beginning to slip into you. No matter how many times you felt his cock inside you, it felt like he was splitting you like a log. Yet, it was the sweetest sensation. No matter how much you tried to relax, you would immediately start gripping around Logan’s thick cock. 

“Holy fuck, Lo,” you gasped as your nails dug into his skin. You wished you could see those marks, but already, they were simply a memory.

As he bottomed out, Logan’s lips met yours again in another searing kiss. He could fully appreciate the pulsing of your velvet cunt, just warming him. For you, the feeling of being stuffed to the brim? You were bound to make another mess.  

Slow and steady, Logan began thrusting into you. Every inch of your body responded, particularly your hips that began to find a groove with Logan’s. With your eyes closed, you felt like you were blindfolded with pleasure. Your ragged breathing, soft moans— they were music to Logan.

Only dressed by the morning sunlight streaming through the window, you were a vision to Logan in this moment. Your mouth gaped, never finding the words that were so clearly written all over your face. Your hair was disheveled all over his pillows— the pillows you insisted Logan needed when he finally got his own place. 

His hand steadily moved up your abdomen, smoothing over the valleys of your breasts. Logan had been inches deep in you more times than he could count. But today, he never felt closer.

“Look at me, baby,” he lowly grunted, his hand caressing your cheek. Your eyes fluttered open again, met with a smirk of a man who knew he had you hooked, “I need to see you.” 

Like a reward, his hips snapped a little deeper, hitting your spot just right. “Oh my god,” you cried out with an arched back. Logan placed a supportive hand onto the middle of your back, making you sit on your legs and lifting you up to his chest. His hungry eyes met your lust-blown ones. You felt weightless as he dipped you on his cock. You gripped his shoulders, taking control of your bounce.

“Fucking made for me, baby.” he groaned, watching you practically bounce on his cock, quickening the tempo. With his other hand on your back, the other gripped your hip. “Take me so goddamn well.”

You were running like a faucet, feeling your own arousal run down your thigh. You savored every inch of his cock as Logan pumped into you, feeling that familiar pit in your core grow.

Logan could feel you tighten around him, chasing your own finish, “Fuck, sweetheart, if keep doing that, I won’t last too long.”

You wrapped your arm around his neck, nodding with a breathless smile, “I’m counting on it.” 

That’s all Logan needed to hear. With a long growl, Logan removed his hand from your hip to ass, taking control of your movements. Your other hand reached for your clit. The pressure on your clit combined with the rhythmic plunges of Logan's cock was sinfully over stimulating. Your mind was hazy, your legs were beginning to tremble.

Logan was not far behind you, his thrusts becoming sloppy and moans hard to contain. “C’mon, baby, love seeing you come all over my cock. Fuck, I just love you, baby. Always you.”

Both of you were done for. A few final pumps later, the last deep in your cunt, you unraveled all over Logan’s cock, locking in the ropes of cum currently painting your walls. It took everything in Logan to not have his claws unsheathed themselves but coming with you that close to him was worth it. With every pulse, you knew you were milking every drop. You practically collapsed onto his chest, the ache between your legs officially satisfied. 

Panting was the only sound filling the old bedroom. Logan was still buried deep in you. You knew if you didn’t move soon, he’d be rock hard again. It was hard to leave the moment though. Compared to the early events of this morning, this was bliss.

You felt Logan softly press kisses on your shoulder as you leaned against him. You smiled, pulling yourself up to meet his softened stare. You caught a quick kiss from your man before pulling him off. You both sighed at the loss of contact. 

You pulled the navy blue blanket— another item you told Logan he just needed to have in his room— off the end of the bed, wrapping yourself in it. With a mouthed c’mere, you pulled Logan down to lay with you. You covered the both of you as you made yourself comfortable. 

“I need you,” Logan sighed as you placed your  arm and head on his hard chest. 

You huffed and giggled in disbelief, looking up at him, “Again? I’m gonna need a minute…or 30.”

“No, no,” he chuckled. It wasn’t the worst idea though, Logan thought. “Earlier, I said that if I needed you, I’d let you know. And…I need you.”

Your lips tugged into another smile as you rub his chest, “I need you, too. And when you leave, I know you’ll physically be fine, but here?” Two of your fingers pressed between his brows, causing him to furrow them, “Sometimes you get stuck in there, and I don’t want to lose you, in any way.”

It never occurred to Logan that you could have the same fears he had.

“You won’t, sweetheart,” Logan pulled you closer, planting a chaste kiss to your forehead, “You won’t because I do love you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, sending vibrations through Logan’s chest. His head tilted with narrowed eyes.

“You have a real nice habit of telling me that when I’m naked.”

“Put something on, and I’ll tell you again.”

You both were laughing now. The sounds of your laughter were soon joined with the ringing and vibrating of Logan’s phone from the floor in his jeans. Besides you, Wade was the only other person who had Logan’s number. It was comical to you how annoyed he could get by a simple call from someone you knew he considered a friend; Logan wouldn’t admit though.

You began reaching for his jeans on the floor, stealing his vibrating phone from the back pocket.

“C’mon, I’m sure he wants nothing,” Logan grunted as he sat up. He grabbed your arm to stop you and the blanket from falling off the bed. When he pulled you back up, you sat up with him and were already answering the phone.

“Then he can bother me with it,” you smiled at Logan before raising the phone to your ear. “Morning, Wade!”

“Oh, it’s Mr. Wilson if you’re nasty,” he quipped. Logan rolled his eyes as you chuckled, “And what a pleasure to be greeted in a way I won’t have to tell my therapist about. Is the hairy guy around?”

You looked up at Logan with a small smile, “He’s actually a little preoccupied at the moment.” Logan laid on his forehead on your shoulder, muttering a soft thank you. “Can I take a message?”

“Nothing crazy, just a little bit of work I think he’d be interested in.” You looked over at Logan again. It was clear he could hear Wade as well as his head shot up from your shoulder. “But you tell him that there’s no shame in you being the breadwinner in that relationship; he’d make a great trophy wife. Really has the tits for it.”

“Couldn’t agree more, but uh, let me see if I can get him,” you muttered before muting the phone. “It’s work,” you jested.

Logan gave you a small smile before running his large hands over his face, preparing himself for the impending conversation with Wade. You handed him the phone but not before placing a kiss on his cheek. You rolled off the bed, only leaving Logan under the blanket. Vocalizing a loud groan from his chest, he’d prefer watching his girl get dressed than talk with a man who was currently whistling the Jeopardy! think song.  

With your underwear on, as you pulled up your jeans, you shot a playful look at Logan who was clearly just ogling you at this point, “Talk to him!”

Annoyed, Logan immediately took Wade off of mute, “What?” his tone was a 180 compared to a few minutes ago.

You smiled as you left the room to find the rest of your clothing and finally eat something. You didn’t hear much coming out of Logan. You assumed he was just listening to whatever ‘work details’ Wade had. 

After slipping all your clothes back on, you delved into the muffin tops you had neglected this morning. You didn’t know how hungry you were until you took a bite of your favorite pastry. It was enough to make your eyes roll. 

With your coffee, a pastry, and Logan’s shirt, you leaned against the counter, on your phone. Truthfully, you were listening in on what Logan was saying, but he was a man of few words in the conversation. Most of his words were ones of confirmation and insults hurled at Wade.

The only thing you heard that truly mattered to you was what he said at the end, “Yeah, see you in 20.”

You heard Logan shift off the bed and grab his jeans, preparing to leave again despite only being home for about 5 hours. Although you were in a better place than you were earlier in the morning, it still made you a little sad to know that he was leaving again so soon. It would’ve been nice to have the morning together.

Logan called for you as he exited out of the bedroom. It was your turn to ogle him as your shirtless man adjusted his belt before turning toward you. He smirked when he saw you because you weren’t being very subtle. You dangled his shirt in the air.

“I’ll be back in like an hour or two,” Logan told you as he took his shirt back, swiftly throwing it on. You straightened out the wrinkles on it, but you both knew it was just an excuse to have your hands on him.

Logan wasn’t complaining. It gave him an excuse to place his hands around your waist.

“This mom— her ex is getting out of prison today, and she thinks he could use a, uh, reminder to not come around anymore.”

You nodded, picking a piece of lint off his shoulder, “I imagine you’re scarier than any restraining order,” you joked.

He huffed with a chuckle, “Probably.” Logan had to admit that this felt a whole hell of a lot better than sneaking out of the apartment, vaguely stating that he’ll be back. It was definitely better seeing your smile up at him than with disappointment.

“And now you have all your clothes on,” he teased, pulling you closer to him. You rolled your eyes, but you could feel your cheeks reddening, “I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too, Lo,” you smiled before pulling him down into a kiss. It was supposed to be quick, but Logan couldn’t help deepening the kiss. You smiled into the kiss, amused by how those 3 words seemed to really get Logan going.

“Someone out there needs you, babe,” you muttered against his lips before pulling away. “Now, go be the man I know you are.”

He smiled before leaving a kiss on your forehead, “Yes ma’am.”

The goodbye was quick; you knew he’d be back sooner rather than later. But you were right: you had the best guy, no question.

note: the inbox is always open for requests♡

[nagaytoe]

THE KID AT THE BACK

-theories

Did i sit down and analyze this game for 3 hours straight because I'm hyperfixated on it? Yes, yes i did.

This isnt proof-read and long as hell so buckle up for a joyride, y'all (by the way, there's another TKATB fanfic in the works as we speak and also some fanart, though I'm not sure wether to post it or not... well, we'll see!)

Some of these might not seem all too thought through (??) Since i was kind of grasping at straws here (and it was like 2 a.m. lmao), so if y'all have questions/need me to elaborate or have theories of your own feel free to share!

(There's some inspiration here from other people in the Fandom, most of them from the community section on itch.io which isnt available any more)

Sol knows the player longer than we think

My theory ->

-Fantasia stated that one of her 3 biggest inspirations was the game AMNESIA

-In amnesia the mc loses her memory in an accident. One of the love interests is her childhood friend and also the only yandere in the game (at least from what i could find out)

-She already drew Sol with Forget-me-nots and in the valentines day special the boquet sol gave us also contained Forget-me-nots

-In the book (this gallery thing with all the cutscene images) on the top of sols page is written 'Remember Me' which implies we forgot about him

-Annabel Lee Poem:

+The poem contains the line 'I was a child, she was a child' which furthermore implies that Sol and MC knew each other as kids

+Except for the last two paragraphs the poem is written in past tense, which could be talking about sols POV with us

Perhaps MC had an accident, as mentioned above, and MCs father (highborn kinsmen) tore MC away from Sol to the countryside

+The poem mentions angels killing annabel lee which could also mean something like this: MC doesnt die but, however, gets amnesia. That way, the MC sol knows and loves is dead because MC no longer exists the way MC did before (also the fact that she forgot him)

Some people theorize MCs farm is near the sea and that is the reason why sol hates the sea (i believe the city is near the sea and that's where MC 'died' (maybe MC almost drowned and got Amnesia that way?(apparently its possible for people who almost drowned to get amnesia)))

+"The speaker loves annabel lee to the point of death and even after death" (MCs view how to interpret the poem) (-> Sol loves MC to 'death' (the day they got amnesia) and even after 'death' (after MC got amnesia and 'died' in a sense, as a person))

-sol says he thinks death is beautiful, i didn't really know what to make of that, the only conclusion i came to would be: If MC actually did drown and lose their memories due to that, sol might have been involved in MC drowning (or at least blames himself for that) but viewed MC losing their memories as a 'second chance' with them, since they can start from anew (perhaps he made some mistakes with MC in the past which all eventually built up to MC drowning (it could be that we were already teens at that point)

-sol states afterwards: "But people refused them to let them be together, as if fate refuses them to die together" which supports my theory that MC was taken from Sol by someone (most likely the father after he witnessed Sols behaviour and his final straw was MC drowning because of him) the 'let them die together' could mean something like their relationship 'dying' and then starting over again or perhaps he tried to die with them, who knows (all this is really far fetched i am grasping at straws here lmao)

-in a really quick scene right after he mutters "I'm won't let it happen to me... not again" (some people view this as Sol already lost someone he loved dearly but it could also be the MC who was taken from him

ANOTHER THING I COULD IMAGINE -ABOUT DYING TOGETHER COULD BE:

MC almost died, Sol went after them but they were already saved, Sol just didnt witness that and almost died himself/wanted to die but was saved from that by someone (maybe hyugo? Though, he is an exchange student)

-Another theory on hyugo. It's canon that he is an exchange student, however i do believe he is from this city (since he knows about the hierarchy and his brother Geo apparently is no exchange student), moved away and is now back for business (relating to his 'mafia schemes' but under the disguise of being an exchange student)

Maybe he moved around the same time MC left or some time after that

-Hyugo mentions on the rooftop that we remind him of someone and the pronoun of the person he refers to changes based on the one the player picked for the MC in the beginning. It could mean we remind him of someone else entirely, someone maybe not even related to sol (though i doubt that) or to the MC and he knows them from back then but maybe thought MC died as well and cant believe they actually survived (maybe he want to spike MCs memory by doing that)

-A dream within a dream: MC mentions that this poem, at least to them, talks about the uncertainty about something, like life (which could also imply that they might be uncertain about some things in their mife because they simply forgot them due to amnesia)

-THE SECOND DAY 'THE KINGDOM'

+some people think the kingdom (by the sea) refers to MCs farm and implies its near the sea, however in day 2 we find out about the hierarchy in the city and considering my theory that MC actually is from the city and almost drowned there, i believe the kingdom by the sea is the city. MC does mention in the beginning that they lived on the farm ever since they were a child, however, it could very well be that we moved there right after the incident that caused MCs amnesia (if MC was akid when it happened it would really matter because then it would still fit with the fact that they lived there since theyre a child, however if they were already a teen, perhaps the father moved there immediately to cut off all ties to Sol and told us we have always lived there on top of that (considering the previous theories)

The father also didnt seem fond of the idea that we go to the city (the fact that he is is indebted to someone from high class could imply he might be from there), that could be because he knows how dangerous the city is (and how we could potentially meet sol again)

-maybe the reason for the debt is that MCs father suddenly bought the farm land to get us away from the city as soon as possible and had to take on a loan from one of his contacts in the city

-we know that this is MCs last year at the university, if we say shes minimum 22, and was already in the school for 4 years that would mean she got there at 18. If the 'drowning theory' events took place when MC was a teen (like 16 maybe) it would explain why the father was indebted (i also think 2 years is an believable timeframe a higher class person would give someone to pay off their debt)

-at the end of day 2 sol says he's sorry for leaving us and "i dont know what I'll do if..." which supports my theory that he lost us once (and he blames himself as the reason (again, MC drowning?))

-inspirations:

+ https://www.tumblr.com/sweet-herbal-peach-tea/746168072919023616/tkatb-theories?source=share

+ https://itch.io/t/3749638/whats-the-secret-between-hyugo-and-sol

Another theory:

Sleepy Hollow and The kid at the back

-In the nicknames the boys have for MC (fantasia released that on twitter and tumblr) sol calls MC pumpkin (like the pumpkin of the headless horseman (also in the gallery there is a pumpkin above the book)) and Crowe calls them '(star-crossed) lover'

Star-crossed lovers are people who love each other but can't be together

I believe this might imply that, even though Crowe is the second romance option, MC can't be with him no matter what they do

I also found out that the nickname is a phrase from romeo and juliet (which furthermore implies crowe will die)

We know what romeo and juliet is about: romeo and juliet cant be together because their families are enemies (some people believe Crowes father might be them man MCs father owes money to(i personally doubt thah though but it would support this romeo and juliet situation)) and at the end romeo thinks that juliet died, kills himself and then juliet turns out to not be dead but kills herself after seeing romeo dead

-Jericho Ichabod is a character from Sleepy Hollow, along Katrina (the FMC who owns a farm (what a coincidence)) and Brom Bones (its implied he is the headless horseman). In the story, jericho courts Katrina at a party, she rejects him and on his way home the headless horseman kills him (in the scene where Sol accompanies MC to class he says 'it's always been you ichabod' which could furthermore imply that crowe or his family have something do to with the fact that Sol and MC arent together)

In the library scene with Crowe he asks MC about their opinion on marie Antoinette and when MC says something negative about her, his reaction seems kind of strange. MC also brought a book about torture devices and execution methods and in that book is a picture of 'The Executioner' and he has scars on his arms, wears a mask and a chained collar. This correlates with some of sols features. He has scars on his arms (as seen in one of fantasias drawings), wears a chocker (he also wears a mask when he breaks into MCs room but that's really something anyone who does that would do). This implies even more that he will kill crowe.