#yes the background is scribbles just ignore it

[crystalline-sanders]

me when I'm thinkin'

hello it's me again!! thank you so much for the love on my hotch painting. i offer you a Spencer Reid in return. much love

[biolumien]

heya!! Saw you had open requests. And I was wondering if you could do something with Hoshina with the trope of Opposites attract?

Like maybe reader could be shy and quiet type. Who is strangely not a fighter like he is. Reader could be a sweet civilian or something and it'd be nice to see how the rest of the characters react to their relationship. Though of course, feel free to change it as you wish. Whatever you write I'm sure it'll turn out amazing.

Feel free to ignore this if it isn't your fancy :DD

notes: ahh repeat it with me now the fic got away from me and took on a life of its own... i hope this is okay ;-;!!

cafe latte

soshiro hoshina x gn!reader no content warnings necessary. i think word count: 1752

the first time you were saved by soshiro hoshina was in front of the wreckage surrounding your cafe. 

the smell of blood was overwhelming as you stepped out warily, wincing as a drop of the kaiju carcass’s acidic blood dripped onto the pavement in front of you, carving out a hole in the concrete. 

“careful!” a voice called out from somewhere above you. “it’s still not safe for civilians.” 

you watch as the vice captain of the third division, soshiro hoshina, lands deftly on the ground, sheathing his twin katanas at his back. his closed, smiling eyes crack open just a tad, and he hums, his voice muffled by his respirator. 

your eyes go wide. 

the third division was legendary among the defense force, after all, and it was soshiro hoshina in the flesh in front of you! your body seemed to move of its own accord, and--

“um–can i,” you stammer out, pulling out your notepad for taking cafe orders. “can i get your autograph?”

“huh?” hoshina wipes a bit of blood from his suit. “i mean, sure, but wouldn’t you rather get an autograph from captain ashiro? i’m sure the resell value on that is far better.” even as he said this, though, he’d reached out to sign your notepad, scribbling a haphazard signature.

“i mean–everyone likes captain ashiro,” you say nervously as hoshina hands the notepad back to you. “but—you kept the kaiju from wrecking my—my shop.” you shift your eyes to the front of your cafe, and then back to hoshina, covered in blood and still wearing his respirator mask. “so i wanted your signature specifically.” 

“oh, i see,” hoshina says. he sounds teasing. “business will be slow for a bit, though, with the cleanup. are you going to be okay?” 

“oh? i—yes, i… it’ll be fine. the cleaners usually take… two weeks, i think. so… it might be a bit slower.” 

“hmm.” hoshina hums, removing his mask. you’d seen hoshina’s face on the news, largely in the background as mina ashiro spoke on eliminating the kaiju threat—so you’d known he was handsome, but something about seeing his face in person was different. he felt more—tangible. real. 

“i’ll have to stop by some time,” hoshina says with a smile. 

“i…” you lift up your notepad to hide your face. “i-i mean… sure. i… i don’t know why you would… but—”

“think of it like me paying you back for the slow business,” hoshina says. 

“okay,” you say, your voice hitching slightly. 

[…]

business was slow the next week, as you’d told hoshina. the kaiju carcass outside was pretty bad for business, really–something about the bad vibes, or something like that. so you go through the motions, cleaning up tables, ordering new coffee beans and stock for the next few weeks when business would pick up again. it was hard work, but it was made a little easier based on the fact that there was hardly anyone in the cafe right now. 

you look outside the window, resting your elbows on the counter, sighing. looks like it’d be another slow day after all. 

you raise your head as the cafe door jingles.

“welcome to the—it’s you,” you stammer out as hoshina walks through the door. off-duty he wears fairly loose clothes, a sharp contrast to how sharply dressed he looks during press conferences. he’s dressed in a loose black jacket with a tight turtleneck, and loose pants with a pair of reasonably-fashionable looking sneakers, with a black mask over his mouth. “you really didn’t have to—”

“not like i had much better to do,” hoshina says easily, waving a hand, pulling down his mask now that he was inside. “it’s not often i get time off. and i gave you my word, so i might as well make good on it.” he walks forward, examining the cafe menu. “what’s good here?” 

“umm—the… americano, is… okay,” you say. “i… think.” “you think?” hoshina blinks at you, his eyes narrowing slightly, teasingly. “does that mean you don’t know?”

“i–no, it’s–it’s good,” you say more assertively now. hoshina laughs, and your heart skips a strange beat. 

“hm… i’ll admit i don’t really drink that much coffee, so i’ll give you free reign to do whatever you think i’d like.” hoshina smiles. 

“i–that’s too much freedom,” you protest. “what if you hate it–” “i’m not gonna hate it,” hoshina says. “i came here out of my own free will after all! just go with the flow.”

so you end up making him a latte, doing a bit of latte art on the top using some cream. it’s a small fox with closed eyes and a sharp smile, and you slide it across the counter for his approval. he picks up the cup, spinning it gently–and you try not to look too hard at his hands. he hums.

“looks almost too cute to drink,” he says. “cheers, though.” he takes a long, slow sip, and you feel your heart pound in your throat as he lowers the cup. 

“is—”

“it’s good,” hoshina says with a smile. “i’ll have to keep coming back here. i can’t believe i’ve missed out on this place.” 

[…]

he just… keeps coming back during his off duty hours, dressed sharply and plainly each time. you make him new animals in his lattes—cats, dogs, bunnies, mostly cats and foxes. 

a few times you attempt a very crazy looking kaiju, but by the time you hand over the cup it’s deflated already, and you slide over the drink with shame on your face and he just laughs, and you try not to think about the fact that his fingers brushed against yours as he takes the cup each time. 

you learn a bit more about him each time, but it’s mostly surface level things. how his day’s going, what’s annoying him—mostly what’s annoying him, but said in a conversationally light way. 

but he asks a lot of questions about you. favorite color, animal, food—innocuous at first, down to grittier questions about good memories, lasting regrets and the like. 

you answer to the best of your ability, hesitantly and nervously each time. 

“not that i don’t… appreciate the conversation, but…” you say one day as you’re scrubbing down a particularly messy table, “why do you ask all these questions anyway? i-i doubt my answers are… anything interesting, so—”

hoshina takes a sip from his coffee. 

you made him a penguin today. 

“i’m just curious,” hoshina says, in a tone that almost sounds apologetic. “work habit. gotta know everything about everyone. your coworkers, the officers, kaiju…” 

he watches out the window for a moment, and you think about the large gap between the two of you—two completely separate worlds as he fights to defend the world from a threat so foreign and massive that it seemed utterly inconceivable—and here you were, wondering about how you might sell enough cafe lattes to make ends meet and pay rent. 

“but more than anything,” hoshina says after a long moment, and you nearly startle hearing his voice again, “i just want to get to know you because you’re interesting.”

and in his eyes is a weighted, assured sincerity that makes your heart flip nervously. 

[…]

the second time you were saved by soshiro hoshina, it was a smaller, less dramatic affair. 

you’re carrying out trays to some other customers while hoshina sits at one of the tables, his laptop open as he’s working on some paperwork. 

and then suddenly you trip on one of the floorboards, falling forward with a yelp, and you brace yourself for the utter worst—spilled glassware and maybe a really bad fall—but then you gasp out as hoshina pulls an arm around your waist, keeping you from completely planting on your face. 

he lets go soon after, his eyes scanning yours for a moment. you wonder why your side feels a little bit colder, why you wished for the pressure of his hand against your side to stay for a little longer. surely it was nothing. 

“careful now,” hoshina says, a teasing lilt to his voice, but then he seems a little more contemplative, slightly more concerned. “nothing spilled too bad, right?” 

“no,” you say, a little dazed as you check the trays to find that thankfully, everything seemed in place. “thank you, hoshina.”

“mhm,” hoshina says, his eyes flitting back to his work. a smirk crosses his lips for a moment as his eyes flit back up to meet yours. “can’t save you all the time, can i?”

you sputter for a moment, and he laughs, and it’s not long before you’re laughing too. 

[…]

there are people huddled outside the street as hoshina enters into the cafe today. he seems a little weary, running a hand through his hair. 

“you look out of it,” you comment. 

“i… the…” hoshina glances back at the people outside. your eyes widen when you notice the telltale ponytail of—

“is that mina ashiro?” you exclaim, slamming your hands against the counter. “seriously? out here?” 

hoshina looks wearier at the excitement in your voice. 

“sorry,” you say. “but why is she here?” 

“i…” hoshina looks up at the ceiling, exhaling for a second. “do you want to go out with me?” 

you think your heart stops beating. 

hoshina’s watching you, and his eyes flit to yours, before trying to look at anything else. 

“where—where did this come from?” you ask. you want to hide behind something. your ears feel hot, and he coughs. 

“it comes from… ah, i’m not good at metaphor,” hoshina says, spreading his hands. “it’s so much worse than being straightforward—so i’ll just put it plainly. i like you. i come to the cafe a lot because i like you. i want to go out with you. and some of my… coworkers,” 

hoshina turns to glare at some of the people outside, who seem to scatter at his stare. 

“…were interested in seeing the person that has captured my attention. so… i hope that’s clear.”

does he seem ever-so-slightly nervous?

your face feels hot.

“yes,” you say, reaching out to clasp his hand. “of course.”

hoshina exhales, loud.

“okay. good. not that i was nervous or anything, but i’ve got a reputation to uphold out there, with those clowns,” hoshina says, squeezing your hand back, cool as ever. you smile, leaning up to kiss hoshina quickly, and he laughs, brushing his nose against yours.

and out of the corner of your eye, you see mina ashiro taking a picture with her phone. 

[momotonescreaming]

STWG Daily Prompt: Date Night

“Does Thursday work?” Jeff asks, voice tinny and sort of muffled. Eddie can hear the sound of flipping pages, the creak of the plastic from the phone's speaker. 

“Shit, sorry dude.” Eddie says, looking at the loose pages of lined paper he's scribbled his schedule on. It works for him, and it's better than nothing. “That's date night.” 

A pause. For a moment, all Eddie can hear is the sound of Jeff breathing through the speaker. 

“Date night, huh?” Jeff eventually asks, and Eddie can hear the smarmy grin he's wearing. It's leaking into his voice, the absolute delight in it all. Just the right side of teasing, the bastard. He'd hate it, would snap and snarl and throw it all back if he wasn't also fucking delighted. 

He could say that now. He had a boyfriend, who holds his hands and kisses him and schedules date nights. He gets this. He gets to talk about it with his best friend. Can mention he has a date and doesn't have to hide the fact that it's with his boyfriend. He gets to share in the gentle ribbing for once. It's not just him on the outside looking in — as they tease Gareth for getting a date with a girl from his English class, or Jeff hitting his anniversary with his girlfriend. 

Eddie's been domesticated and he doesn't mind in the slightest. 

“Yes, it's date night,” Eddie retorts, trying to send as much faux malice down the phone as he can. He's smiling though, as he sits at the kitchen table, phone cord absently tangled through his fingers. “And Steve's been working hard planning it, so I will not be rescheduling.” 

“I didn't ask you to,” Jeff laughs, tone light. 

“Well good.” Eddie teases, wishing they were having this conversation in person so he could stick his tongue out. Really ham it up. 

Another pause, and Eddie uses the silence to flip through his papers, looking through all the events and dates and times he's scribbled out. Fuck, he really needs a calendar. 

“So?” Jeff prompts, drawing the word out. “Tell me about date night.” 

“You sound like your mother,” Eddie laughs, holding the phone in between his ear and his shoulder, pinning it there so he can free up his hands. So he can sort through his papers and fidget with the phone cord at the same time “Begging for gossip.” 

“You love my mother,” Jeff retorts — snappish — but it's obvious he's smiling. Laughing through it. “And you say that like you aren't gagging to talk about it. Come on.” 

“Okay fine,” Eddie relents. Sighing as he sinks into his chair, slouching, his socked feet skating across the floor. “You caught me.” 

“Not hard,” Jeff laughs. 

“Steve’s been talking a lot about wooing me lately,” Eddie starts, ignoring Jeff’s teasing. He finds himself smiling as he talks, creeping across his face uncontrollably. Fuck, the things Steve does to him. “As if he hasn’t wooed me already. So he’s planned this like, romantic dinner at home. Instead of going out to Enzo’s he wants to like, bring Enzo’s to us? Said he was going to treat me right. Have the fancy dinner I deserve, where we can play footsie under the table and hold hands without, y’know, worrying.”

By the end of his sentence Eddie’s feeling like he’s melting into his chair, insides melting into something soft and gooey. Pulling his hair across his face to hide his blush. Jeff can’t even see him, but he can’t help it. He wants to giggle and kick his feet. Jump and scream and flail around. It’s all building up inside him, this honey sweet affection. He doesn’t quite know what to do with it all. 

“He going to light candles? Have soft music playing in the background?” Jeff asks, teasing melting away into something softer. 

“Literally yes,” Eddie exclaims, dropping his hair and trying not to wiggle too much in his seat. “He’s so sweet, I’m going to throw up.”

“He’s good for you, man.” Jeff says simply, and it means a lot. That other people can see it — can know — just how happy Steve makes him. 

[Part Two]

[aurynsia]

Unrequited, Terrifying Chapter 2

James Potter x Reader

Summary: After receiving a mysterious letter left under your door, you begin to search for the culprit…

Warnings: Extremely fluffy, nervous!james x shy!reader, some subtle wolfstar action in the background, reader plays hard to get without intending to, idiots in love, potentially a slow burn, oc!friends, lovesick!james x salty!reader, no use of Y/N, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, NOT EDITED!

Word count: 1.7K

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

“Has anyone got any better ideas?” James asked, slumping against the wall of his dorm room with desperation plastered across his face. An hour into the school year and the Marauders were already failing in their attempts to woo James’ crush.

“I don’t know, Prongs. We’ve established that you can’t just approach the poor thing and ask her to marry you, THAT would be a horrible attempt at a relationship. You also can’t stalk her the entire year, that’s illegal.” Peter pondered, looking concentrated in thought. “James,” Remus broke his silence, “You’re a smart boy under that flirty exterior. You get good grades and you know how to write. Why don’t you just write down how you feel and pass it along?”

“Remus…you genius.” James replied with complete sincerity, dashing to hug the boy who might have just saved his chances with you. “That’s perfect! She won’t feel expected to respond, I can say all I need to say without tensing up around her, and I don’t even have to expose myself if she doesn’t like me back! It can be anonymous, yes!” James rambled as he searched his desk for a spare sheet of paper and a quill, ignoring the silent glances his friends gave to one another, teasing him mentally.

A sweet baby blue envelope was retrieved from his stack of correspondence material, lined on his desk as he began to write. “Looks like we don’t need to tell you what to say then, Prongsie?” Sirius commented to the quiet room as all four of them attended to their own business. James hummed in reply, tongue sticking out from his lips in concentration as his eyebrows dipped together. “Just have…to get this…right…” he murmured, pouring his heart out onto the paper.

Not too subtle, but refined, like a gentleman. Not too pushy, but still explicit in his feelings. Anonymous, but hinting at who your new secret admirer could possibly be. A flourish of shifting paper filled the quiet air as James tucked his note into the envelope, finally scribbling your name on the surface.

Stood in front of your dorm room, James shifted his weight from his left foot to his right as he weighed his options. Your uncharacteristic chatter could be heard from behind the wood, though all he could make out were his friends’ names and an unmistakably annoyed tone hung on your words.

“James” you continued, and his heart began to swim laps around his chest. You sounded confused and frustrated as you rambled on, allowing James to take a beat as he collected himself.

Your voice softened, and he took this as his call to action. He slipped the note beneath the door and pursued the safety of his own dorm before he could get caught.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

“EHEM! ‘To the only creature I could ever admire,’” Charlie began her dramatic reading of the mysterious note left under your dorm room door. “I have the greatest honour in being met with your stunning eyes, soft skin and quiet personality everyday when I pass you in the hall. The classes I share with you are moments in which my heart flutters at the sound of your gentle voice. The intelligence you hold and your refined sensibility could never be matched by a boy like me-’ ooh it’s a boy!! Ehem, sorry…‘but this is my best effort at showing that I am worthy of your love. I’ve seen the beauty you hold behind those guarded walls and I would sell my soul to bathe in its light. Make me yours, and I’ll give you the moon, the sun, and the stars in the sky.’ Oh! And it’s signed, ‘Forever yours…’”

You were stunned into an impression of a statue, barely showing the rise and fall of your chest. Hope smirked at the deep blush hovering over your cheeks while Charlie caught her breath from her award-winning performance. The room was still, a curiosity lingering in the air as all three of you began to silently ponder, who could this mysterious suitor be?

“Well, it says here that he thinks you’re out of his league- oh, damn! That doesn’t narrow it down…” Charlie joked to ease the tension and a fit of giggles erupted from the surface of your bed. “If it were up to me, dear, I’d start crossing names off of a list!” Hope laughed, though her smile fell as you and Charlie looked at her with faces of realisation.

“That’s what we’ll do.” You spoke for the first time since the note arrived, “We’ll write down every boy who could fit this description and narrow down the options!” You said with a glint of determination in your eye.

“So you’re interested in this secret admirer?” Charlie smirked, though her face emitted a sense of hope. “If he can speak so honestly about all of this,” you gestured to the note, “then I believe his maturity might just be worth it.”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Four pairs of eyes locked on you as you entered the Great Hall for breakfast. James was visibly more flustered than the others, but the rest of them were equally as invested in your reaction to the note.

You and your friends sat down with quiet whispers and glances down the table. As your eyes passed over the group of trouble makers they immediately paid special interest to their plates of food. Sirius began to pick at his eggs, Peter at his fruit and Remus stole quick sips from his juice. James gulped around nothing as he stared at his reflection in his plate, willing the bright flare of red occupying his face to fade away.

Once the three of you had moved your focus to a small huddle around your breakfast, the selection of Gryffindor boys immediately returned to ogling. “Can any of you see what they’re doing? Is that a quill in her hand?” Peter questioned. You shared quick giggles with your friends that disrupted the secrecy of your activity. The Marauders couldn’t quite place what you were doing, but they knew it would have something to do with the letter.

“An eye for mischief that one has, Prongs, what a cheeky couple you’d make- Ouch!” Sirius was interrupted by a sharp kick from his best friend under the table, though James’ eyes never left your frame.

Suddenly, your group took on faces of empathy, severity and concern, glancing at each other from your hunched positions. You trained your gaze on the boys who were discussing you, once again causing them to occupy themselves with the activities of breakfast.

After a lingering stare, you shifted back to the safety of your team and resumed your actions with a resolved expression.

“What do you think that was all about- Ow Prongs, what the bloody hell did I do?”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

You gently opened the doors to the Great Hall, quill and notebook tucked behind your back. Charlie and Hope accompanied you to seats by the Gryffindor table, glancing over the potential perpetrators of last night’s events.

With a final look over your eligible bachelors, you sat down and began to work, sheltered by your friends. “I think this is pretty much the entire male cohort of Gryffindor…” you giggled breathlessly, pondering the dense list of names placed in front of you. Charlie and Hope joined in on your humour, scanning the list to double check your memory, then glancing around once more.

“Oh…um, w-well,” Charlie started, “there is one group we haven’t quite considered yet…” You and Hope turned towards the girl, who glared at you with an uncharacteristically subtle, mental comment. All three of you turned to face the Marauders, who were busy devouring their plates full of breakfast.

Your gaze lingered on each one. Sirius was no match for your intelligence and humility. You were certainly out of Peter’s league. Remus could convey that quiet poeticism that made you blush when the note was read out. James was always unpredictable. He did succeed in classes and he could potentially feel intimidated by your presence, or he could just be a dickhead. Either way, all four boys were, unfortunately, eligible suspects.

You returned to your coven of secrecy, hunched forms plotting over your notebook. You listed the boys below the pre-existing list of Gryffindor inhabitants that you shared classes with. ‘Sirius, Peter, Remus, James.’

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Potions class finally arrived as the sun threatened to set in the faded sky. James rushed to his seat, close enough to you to feel sickeningly sweet without making it too weird. He wasn’t being too weird about all of this, right? No, the note was the right approach.

You drifted airily to your seat a few minutes later, resting on the chair as you retrieved your equipment. James felt his heart fight against his chest, pushing to be released from his lovesick body. A goofy smile captured his expression as he gazed at the back of your head in a daze, eventually interrupted by the beginning of class.

Potions came and went, with James struggling to keep his good grades with you just grazing the edges of his eye line. As the class began to fizzle away, and books found themselves tucked in bags or hugged towards chests, James decided this was his chance. Making his way to the front of the class, he smirked with confidence as he attempted to ask for his grade on the most recent assignment.

As he approached the teacher’s desk, he quickly dropped a folded note on your desk as you leaned into your bag on the opposite side. He promptly began his banter as you returned upright, watching as you curiously discovered the note in his peripheral vision.

“…Potter, you’ll get the grade at the same time as the rest of your class. Have some consideration for my free-time the next time you think to ask.” The professor’s words draw his attention back to their discussion, excusing himself with “Apologies, Professor! Have a good evening!” unusually happy for someone who just discovered they wouldn’t know their grade for at least another week.

As he swiftly moved towards his own belongings, a little bit too cocky for his own good and high on the success of his plan, he met a classmate’s back with a thump.

“Oh Merlin, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…” He realised who he had run into, your sweet fingers pinching the note you had yet to open as you swivelled around to face him, curiously. “Um, I- I’m sorry!” He rambled as he inched past you, scooping up his belongings and dashing out of the classroom.

Bollocks.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

A/N: TYSM for all the support on the first part! This chapter should hopefully move the story along so we can get to the real fluff >:3 As always, likes and reblogs are immensely appreciated! Comment for part 3 <3

[mr-spotatohead]

-Inseparable.-

Welcome Home & Child!Reader Platonic.

Words: 3,470.

|Contains: Swearing. Slight Horror.|

Synopsis: You draw a lot, and you want attention from your mother, but she doesn't give you the attention you need. Until she puts on a show for you that caught your eye. And the main character gives you the attention you deserve.

You ran your hand across the white paper containing a green crayon. Your small, untrained hands made you pick up the crayon with your closed fist, scribbling on the paper with your grass-colored crayon. You were on your knees on the floor, with your toys and painting materials scattered around. You had your tongue out, concentrating hard on the work of art you were going to make.

"Uhum, yes, yes, I've checked that before." Your mother said in the background, her footsteps rushing, the sound of her shoes with a heel clicked against the floor. You continued drawing content to show the end result to your extremely busy mother. The cheap TV played in the background, it was something that didn't catch your attention.

You finished the drawing and got up awkwardly, happy to find your mother in the house, which was easy since she was right behind the couch. She was on the phone, her purse already in her arms, you approached her talking to her but she didn't hear you because she was already talking to someone else. She walked straight past you and made her way to the kitchen table, grabbing her car keys. You puffed out your cheeks. After being ignored, again. You walked back to the floor in front of the television. Your mother soon came close to you and bent down, placing a kiss on your head. "Sorry honey, mommy has to go out now. How about a cartoon for you to watch?" Your mother suggested already changing the channel, just watching the first thing that looked childish was enough. It was a cartoon. That was enough. You didn't even have time to show her your drawing because your mother already closed and locked the door. And left you alone again. Not that you cared, you're old enough to take care of yourself, and you are proud of it. But still, it was very disappointing not to have your mother's attention, all your drawings, all your work, your mother didn't have time, at least not anymore. You sulked now, you looked at your toys on the floor, you didn't feel like playing. Until an animated song started playing on the TV. Making you look at the screen. Your curious eyes observed how bad the quality of the show on your TV was. But that didn't matter to you. What caught your attention was the funny colors of the show. You watched the animation of the show go on like a normal day, showing a few houses in a colorful neighborhood, the camera moving closer to a greener place, focusing on a character. A man with blue hair. You kept looking at the screen, seeing that the character was concentrating on painting a picture, and when he finished, the character noticed the presence of the audience and commented. "Oh, hello, neighbor! You've finally arrived." The character smiled at the audience and that caught your attention. He moved to the side and put his equipment aside. Focusing on the audience. "It's a beautiful day, isn't it? How are you?" The character asked turning his head to the side. You, not taking your eyes off the screen, decided to sit on the floor. Curiosity on your face.

There was a silence after the question, and you wondered if the television had frozen as it sometimes does. But you could hear music in the background, so you decided to answer happily. "I'm fine! I just drew a picture, so I'm happy." "Oh, that's wonderful. When you're happy, I'm happy." The character smiled closing his eyes, with his hands together. You crossed your legs and let your hands rest in the space between them. A silly smile rose to your face. You genuinely liked that the character was paying attention to you. You, being a child with a creative mind, genuinely thought that the character was talking to you. Not noticing the generic lines that he responded to after you spoke. This character, that you just met, you don't know his name so far, but he asks you questions! He asks things of you. And that was exactly the kind of attention you wanted. And you were loving it!

"How many apples are in that tree?" "Four!" "Perfect! Four apples, one for Julie, one for Barnaby, one for me, and one for you, neighbor!" Wally was smiling and looking at you with such enthusiasm, you were jumping in place, even though you knew there was no way you could eat the apple. "Woah, time passes when you're having fun, doesn't it?" Wally said after the episode was coming to an end, at least you learned this character's name. "Well, we better get some rest, see you tomorrow, neighbor!" Wally said with a smile on his face, a little wave of the hand and then the credits rolled, you, still not satisfied, wanted more of that show. You just loved everything and everyone! Luckily, you saw the intro and the same song start playing again. You smiled contentedly, expecting more from the program. . . . This is the second day you've been watching Welcome Home, all afternoon you've been marathon watching the show, learning more about the characters, 'talking' to Wally and watching the comedy episodes. Today you were already in the living room waiting for the program to start, excited to watch them all again. Your mother noticed that you were absent in running around the house, she walked around the house, not being late this time. She noticed you in the living room, sitting on the floor watching TV. Your mother came over and when she went to ask you something, the show music started up and you excitedly hummed along. Seeing Wally already leaving his house, you smiled contently and spoke his name aloud. "Wally! Hi!!!" The puppet started with the identical opening line, which you didn't even realize was all from the show's script. But you were still happy to see the puppet answer you with the same "Oh, hello, neighbor! You've finally arrived."

You answered each question happily. Your mother looked at you with soft eyes. She saw how innocent you were to answer the TV. It was something simple and cute, that made you excited, so your mother let this channel play more often. . . .

This was the third day you were in the living room, waiting to watch your new favorite show. Your face was freshly wet, because what had happened earlier had made you very anxious. Your mother argued loudly on the phone, swearing, she even locked herself in another room so you couldn't hear, but it was difficult. So you tried to overcome this on your own, so you were lying on the floor drawing Wally, being soothed by drawing him. Your mother had to leave early today, but she would be back early too. So you were alone, waiting for the program to start. And when the music started, you excitedly sniffed and looked at the TV with sparkling eyes. Waiting for entertainment after waking up in an unpleasant way. Wally then appeared again, you were on the floor and quickly got up and sat down, grabbed your blankets and wrapped yourself up, since it was cold. Your favorite character came out of his house and started with his same normal question. "Oh, hello, neighbor! You've finally arrive-"

Suddenly, he stopped, in the middle of the sentence. You notice that the eyes of the puppet on the screen widened a little, as he noticed... something? Maybe. You curiously frowned slightly, wondering what had gotten into Wally? This is different. The pause that was taken left you confused, and then he continued, but his posture was different. "Uh- It's a beautiful day and…"

"How, uh. How are you?…" You watched the puppet in front of you with a more droopy posture, it didn't look like he was confident like all the other times. You shook your head, not thinking much. "I'm fine, how are you?" You asked just to ask, because you knew Wally would answer that anyway. But what you didn't expect was that the silence returned. The figure of Wally standing there, looking at you. Then you heard a low: "Are you sure?..."

You raised your eyebrows. Oh, he really answered you this time. You ran your hands over your face, feeling your hands get a little wet after wiping some of the liquid off your face. You looked down at your drawing and then looked into the puppet's eyes. "Hhm, I'm fine, Wally." You hummed affirming what you said earlier. But that didn't seem to have much effect, as the puppet in front of you stared at you with a silence in the background that seemed like forever before something happened.

And it wasn't what you expected. Because the image of Wally looking at you was soon replaced by the continuation of the episode. The view was of a clearing and a butterfly fluttered across the screen. You were surprised by Wally's strange behavior, but you ignored it.

The episode continued as usual, although Wally didn't appear for a few minutes. The characters are in a situation and need help, it was in this part that Wally would ask for your help in this situation. But he wasn't there. You questioned for a few seconds until the screen started to crash, the voices of some characters in the background still talking, but the screen was a mess, there were two scenes trying to appear on the screen, the colors were all mixed up and this made even the voices of the characters stop. Sitting in the dark with the screen all glitched made you a little worried, you remember that the last time the television was like this was on a rainy day. But it wasn't raining now. It made you get out of your blankets and look at the TV still frozen, occasionally making sounds. Suddenly an idea popped into your head. Your mother once hit the TV hard because she said it would fix it, you saw her do it, and it worked, maybe you could try it. Getting close to the TV you raised your small hand and slapped it lightly. Looking at the TV, it didn't work. Maybe you need more strength? You made your hand into a fist and when you went to lift it you were startled by the screen behaving more aggressively with colors and a loud, not pleasant, sound was made. "DO NOT" It was written illegibly on the screen, but you were able to read it despite the mess of glitches. "FIX IT." It appeared at the bottom of the screen, along with the other words. You stopped moving your hand and observed what was happening on the screen. Suddenly. Statics. The television became pure static, no music, no show, nothing. And then only two words appeared. The font was better, despite the random color streaks being made on the screen. "Let me." After a few seconds. The TV went black and a song started. You realized it was the intro of the show, without much doubt, the show started again, the animation of the houses in the neighborhood, the title 'Welcome Home', everything was normal again. You sighed, glad that it was working again, and then you saw him. Wally had his back to you, with a white canvas in front of him, he wasn't painting anything. And then he noticed you. He turned and smiled looking at you. "Oh, hello again neighbor." Wally said putting his brush aside. "Sorry about that, something happened. An... inconvenience." The man in blue said with a smile and his eyes closed, looking even a little forced. "But now! No interruptions. Let's talk, shall we?" Wally put his hands together and smiled broadly, looking at you again. You looked surprised at the screen. Talk? About what? You frowned and turned your head away. "Aren't we going to help your friends? Earlier they seemed to need help with who took their-"

Suddenly the screen changed and some characters from before appeared with a big smile on their faces. "Wowie! Thanks for finding my stuffed animal Wally and neighbor!" Sally said hugging the little toy. Julie nodded in agreement happy that they had found what was missing. And then the screen crashed and went back to the same greenish corner with Wally standing there smiling.

"See, they already found it, everyone is happy." Wally explained trying to convince you that there was no need to 'end the episode'. You frowned slightly, clearly not convinced. Wally quickly began.

"Although…" In a slightly lower voice, you looked at the screen curious by your favorite character's change of mood. "I'm out of ideas of what to paint." Wally let you look at the blank canvas with nothing on it. You happily jumped in place, taking interest. "Oh! I can help you!" You said enthusiastically, the puppet looked at you and a smile formed on his face, he put his hands on his own face, with the same kind of enthusiasm. "Perfect!"

Time passed and you two talked for hours. While Wally was painting what you suggested, you yourself decided to draw another picture, the atmosphere was fun and comfortable. You were loving this session of talking and painting.

"So, (Name)." Wally started, you hummed paying attention, not taking your eyes off your drawing. It was nice to hear Wally say your name instead of just neighbor, you told him at the beginning of your long conversation. "Why were you crying before? If it's okay to ask." Wally asked a bit monotonously, you scrabbled a bit at the colors abstractly and hummend thoughtfully. "Hmm, well…"

Wally is your friend, right? It's okay to tell him about you, he also tells you all about himself, so fair enough. "My mommy is very busy. She ignores all my drawings!" You said with your cheeks puffy. "Ah, but that's just not very nice of her, hm?" Wally commented, and you aggressively nodded several times. "But that has nothing to do with your crying, does it?"

You stopped swinging your legs and looked at the TV screen and just watched the back of Wally, who continued to paint the picture. You sighed and continued. "Yeah… Today my mom had an argument on the phone…. And she's very short-tempered, you know? She'll blow up at anything. She gets aggressive."

Your last line was probably what made Wally stop moving the brush across the canvas, as you were looking at the canvas, you saw Wally glance at you, his eyes were a tad sinister.

"With you?…"

You looked at Wally a little innocently and shook your head, "No, not with me, she locks herself in her room and breaks things right there. And I don't like it when she gets like that. That's why I was sad." As if your words were air, the puppet on the TV sighed, and turned his back again and continued painting.

"I'm done!" You smiled excitedly, the puppet looked back and watched you. "Already? That was quite fast." You laughed at Wally's comment and then got down on your knees, bringing your drawing to the screen, trying to show your drawing to the screen. "Look, look, what do you think?!" You smiled and looked at your drawing, expecting some kind of comment from Wally, but it was so quiet that you had to put your drawing down and look at him.

Wally was staring at you the whole time you got close to the screen, and the puppet raised one hand and coughed falsely. "I'm sorry, it's just that I can't see the drawing if you don't look into my eyes." Wally explained this and you were confused, the puppet explained to you how he can't see anything if someone doesn't look into his eyes. You thought that was strange but you held up the drawing while looking at Wally. And then he finally reacted, taking his eyes off you and looked at the drawing in your hands. He smiled big when he saw your little work of art, complimenting you in every way, watching your smile grow wider and wider with his company. You spent the whole afternoon talking and having fun, your mother came home a little exhausted. She greeted you from afar and went to make herself a cup of coffee. You didn't, however, do the usual thing of running after her after she arrived. You kept your conversation with Wally happy and content. Your mother noticed the change in your behavior. Like every day, you stopped interacting so much with her and started to stay more in front of the TV. Maybe this was a consequence of her actions in leaving you alone so much that now you didn't worry about bothering her. But one night. That's what changed things. You were so annoyed by your mother's neglect that you decided to turn on the TV on your own at night and talk to the only friend who made you feel good.

After the intro passed, you couldn't even keep your crying face long, after you knew that you would be happy with your friend's presence. You didn't even wait for Wally to arrive right on the scene and you quickly began to talk and talk, making the puppet in front of you look surprised by your state. You tried to wipe your full tears on your sleeves, along with your snot. "Shh, shh…" Wally tried to calm you down, you were so close to the screen, it was a bad feeling to see you in that state. The puppet managed to cheer you back up with sweet comments. Your face was red with a huge smile now. Although you started to cry in your room when you realized that your mother was ignoring you while she fiddled with her laptop, you ran into the living room in a loud, clearly sad voice. Your mother noticed her actions at that moment. And she tried to tidy things up a bit. She went into the living room, where she heard where you were talking.

What was strange, were you watching that program again? It looked like you were complaining about her to the TV. She walked silently into the living room and saw you standing near the TV, talking to it.

"Wally, can you be my best friend?" You asked, a few tears escaping and you wiped them away with your sleeves again. Your mother frowned at seeing you in this state, and just as she was about to step in to comfort you she noticed something that was probably not normal. "Of course, (Name). Best friends forever?" Wally asked smiling with half open eyes, he put his hand on the TV screen and you nodded aggressively with approval. "Forever!" Placing your hand on the TV screen where his was. Wally smiled contentedly, and since you were looking at him, he could see everything. He even managed to notice your mother in the back of the room, watching the interaction. The puppet's eyes widened a bit and he looked at you a little worried. Your mother then arrived frightened. And clearly with her heart in her hand. "(Name)." Your mother said firmly. You looked back and saw your mother's hand outstretched. "Come here." She said breathlessly. Staring at the puppet on the screen in fear. You denied it, however, and frowned. "No. I'm having fun with Wally." The nominee softened his gaze at looking at you, but soon intensified at looking at your mother. She approached you and pulled you up, quickly moving away from the TV. "(Name). Go to your room, it's not safe here." Suddenly the TV made a loud bang on the screen, two hands were there now, Wally's eyes fixed strongly on your mother, clearly not liking that you were being forced to leave him. "Stay the FUCK AWAY from them!" Your mother shouted at the TV, clearly frightened. You began to tear up again. Your mother was arguing with your best friend, that wasn't fair! "N-No, don't fight please…" You looked at Wally and he was looking at you, there was no emotion on his face except for that stare. But you still saw him as your friend. Your best friend! "Wally!" You held out your hand as if it would help you, and the TV once again made a loud bang. Your mother in panic quickly ran to her room and left you there, you still crying tried to open the door, but it was too late after you saw, your mother had unplugged the TV.

She still looked panicked and started to drag the TV away to throw it away. That night was the last time you saw your best friend.

. . . Was it?

-OO I was holding myself to not make a long one shot, I kinda see this as a rushed thing, but hey ho, I still liked writing this one :D-

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Always have but never hold

Previous chapter / Last chapter

a/n I welcome you to part nine. I just hope y'all will enjoy it! Thoughts are always welcome! It blows my mind that so many of you are still here reading these scribbles. 🫧🤍

warning: addiction, alcohol consumption, pill consumption, forced behavior, forced sexual behavior, panic attacks.

Parts in cursive are memories

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16h prior

A bowl of popcorn was long forgotten as you dozed off on Luca's shoulder. A random show was still playing in the background. Filling the space with muffled voices that, since you were so sleepy, felt more like a fluffy cloud that soothed you, pulling you deeper into slumber. And you probably would have spent the night there like that. All curled up beside him. Tired from all the emotions. From all the crying and socializing. You had joined Sydney in her ventures around Chicago for a bit when Carmy stood her up. You kept on telling yourself that it was good to get out of the rental apartment. To try to think about something else. Watch your friend get excited about the smallest of things. But those things also drained you these days. Emotions, no matter what kind they were. All seemed too much. Asking and dampening so much of you.

It was the buzzer that made you stir. For a moment, you were convinced that you had just imagined it. Dreamed it. Until it pierced through the silence again. Followed by a light knocking. You frowned. Lifting your head from Luca's chest, who didn't seem to stir at the commotion outside of the apartment, you made your way toward the door while still rubbing your eyes. Was looking through a peephole something you should have done? Especially in Chicago? Yes, and yes. But you didn't, and when you saw who was standing there, all the sleepiness washed away.

"What are you doing here?", you managed to mutter. Standing still as a statue as you glanced up at the person in front of you. "I... Hi... Look, I just had to come and... and speak to you", you shifted uncomfortably. Unsure of what you wanted to do. Slam the door shut, or stand there and listen. The silence was heavy as you crossed your arms over your chest. Mentioning for the person to go on.

"Just... how have you been?", you let out a laugh in disbelief. "Are you seriously asking me that, Richie?", you huffed. He shook his head. "I want you to know that I didn't mean it all back then, okay? I even called you that night to apologize and...", Richie stated quickly while running his fingers through his short hair. His beard was scruffy; he most definitely hasn't tended to it in a while.

"And what? You all hated me the moment I walked through the family house door. All collectively decided to make me your punching bag", you snarled at him, choosing to ignore the tired bags under his eyes. "Look, shit was hard when Mikey died", Richie noted as if you didn't know that yourself. "Oh really? I didn't seem to notice that", you sassed back at him, making him clench his jaw. You saw him fighting his emotions, and yes, this was such a big step that he had even chosen to come here, but you weren't going to just let him brush over it. "I love that kid so much, and... I was so angry that he left. Lived there somewhere and was away from all of this", Richie said once again. "We were suffering in this shithole, and he had it good for himself there".

"Did you ever stooped to think that Carmen thought about you all constantly? That he had been running plans on how to improve the restaurant? Just because he wanted Mikey and all of you happy?", your own emotions rushed out. Something that has sat on your chest for so long now. Something that you knew Carmen would never say out loud, no matter how much you bubbled inside. Richie fell silent, yet you could see the specks of guilt in his eyes when your words truly sank in.

"What do you want, Richie?", you huffed after a moment. He hesitated. Fidgeting in his spot before he breathed out, "I called Claire. I told her where cousin was going so she could bump into him, told her to... She knew about you". Your stomach twisted. Your skin felt clammy as that familiar feeling of anxiety twisted around your body. "I don't know what I was thinking", he breathed out. "How about you weren't thinking?", you bit back, stepping closer to him. A part of you wanted to slap him. Shove him, at least. Hit his chest. "Want to know a fun story, Richie? My ex cheated on me after dragging me through shit for many, MANY months. So you know how this made me feel?", you felt angry tears building up in the corner of your eyes, "Like I was back at that shithole once again".

Richie's face paled. The emotions on his features were hard to read. There were glimpses of guilt, anger, frustration, sadness, and dread. "I'm sorry; I never wanted to hurt you", he mumbled barely audibly, "I wasn't thinking. I just... I'm sorry". But you shook your head, "It's not that simple, Richie; it's just not all that simple".

Present time

You second-guessed your choice to come here more than once. You barely got any sleep after Richie left. Tossing and turning. Your brain was so full of everything that you started to see your thoughts instead of just hearing them. And honestly, screw people who say that thinking at night is not something that you should do because then do you get the best ideas at night then? Come to the biggest realizations at the oddest hours? When the world around you is asleep or just waking up. When it's just you and nothing else matters. And then, if you hadn't stayed up, would you have chosen to come here anyway? Choose to let the pain of the past slip through your fingers. Chosen to awaken the demon that you had put to sleep a long while ago.

You twisted your skin around your finger. The place where your most precious ring usually lies—one that you have forgotten to take and felt naked ever since. Missing the light blue and green stones that covered the band. The stones that always reminded you of Carmen's eyes. Eyes that you had fallen for so quickly. You missed them. More than missed them. Until you caught a glimpse of them right in the back seat. Big and scared eyes looking at you. Confused and searching. He was here. And he saw you. For some reason, you told yourself that he wasn't going to come. Maybe he had stopped coming here after all. It's been weeks since Carmen told you that he had finally started coming here to talk. Maybe he no longer needed this? But he was here, and he was looking right at you, and even if you wanted to, you couldn't drop his gaze.

"I was young and naive. My parents had died in a car accident, and... I just had Luca and his parents, who were the sweet family that baked shortcakes for the whole street on Sundays", you let out a breathy chuckle. "I felt as if they were forced to love me, so I was so desperate to find someone. Fall in love. Know what it felt like to be loved without obligations once again". You watched as Carmen gripped the chair in front of him. Even from where you sat, you could see his knuckles turning white from the share force he was holding on.

"It was all pretty sweet until... devil drops and pills got involved. He changed in the blink of an eye", you snapped your finger in front of your face. "First it was words; they grew louder and louder. Then came the shoves and forceful touches, cheating". A breath hitched in the back of your throat, and you let yourself close your eyes for just a moment. "I would have stayed. I didn't know how to leave. How to fight for myself", each word you spoke cut straight through Carmen. He felt stupid for not noticing. Brushing away the way you escaped his touches at the beginning. How your skin would react. And then how restless you seemed until you were in his arms. Until he was touching you in some way. At first, he didn't understand why it was important for you to feel him around; he thought you just enjoyed physical touch, but now... Now Carmen knew that this ran way deeper. Through scared valleys of pain. "And if not for Luca, my guardian angel, I don't think I would be here today", you met Carmen's eyes one more time before taking a deep breath.

The room was spinning. The shapes on the wallpaper were dancing as you stared ahead of yourself. Eyes so dazed and so unbelievably heavy. You felt so thirsty, but the thought of moving was simply unbearable. It felt as if someone was kissing your skin, but the sensation felt so far away that you might have just imagined it. And then all of those noises. There was no way you could distinguish between them. But they sure were irritating you.

You manage to pull yourself up. Only now realizing that you had been sprawled out on the bed with nothing but your bra and your skirt on. You frowned, but that was quickly replaced by the wave of nausea that rippled through you. You reached for your phone, leaning onto the walls as you stumble out of the room. You know this place. The doors. It was Ezra's apartment. You tried to remember how you had gotten here, but your mind seemed empty. Nothing—not a scratch at what had happened. There seemed to be no memories of you doing anything after you got into his car.

Things had been weird ever since you caught Ezra cheating last week. You had broken up but gotten back together the next day because he called you crying on the phone about how he didn't want to do life if you weren't with him. So you came back. You hadn't even told Luca about it, well aware that he would not approve. You hadn't even realized that you had followed the noises from the living room. Rounding the corner to see... Just what you had seen last time around, Libby, the saver, and Ezra deep inside her. You didn't remember how you ended up in the bathroom. Hands shaky as you called Luca. Slurring your words as you cried.

"I don't remember much now. The pills made sure of that, but... Luca had to get stitches", your finger ran over your eyebrow. "Ezra tried following us and shit. The police got involved", you said, shaking your head at the distant memory. There were so many times you wished you could just forget. Take all of these memories and burn them. "He overdosed a couple of weeks later, and I felt responsible for it. I think I'll always will". That had become your biggest fear. Losing someone once more because of your actions. Sure, situations with Ezra were different. You were the victim, and as Luca had told you many times, if you had stayed, it would have been you six feet under instead. So you drowned out those voices until Carmy came around, and the fear of losing him started to grow. Then Micky died, and you watched Carmen fall apart. A cold shiver ran down your back.

"I don't talk about my experience. I guess... because... taking makes it real, and I just wish I could forget about it", you finally admit, lifting your gaze to meet Carmen's eyes. "That always felt like my biggest flaw. The reason why people might not want to... love me". The room fell silent. Empty even as you let yourself dive headfirst into the depths of Carmen's eyes. A part of you hoped he would be really angry. Storm off. Curse you out in front of everyone. But he didn't. You could see his own eyes glistening slightly as he muttered something you couldn't miss, "I love you". You bit the inside of your cheeks quickly. Trying to keep your emotions at bay. Not wanting to cry in front of everyone. It was probably silly considering that you just shared parts of your past that still bleed. "Thank you for sharing, Y/N.", the moderator touched your shoulder gently, offering you a tissue. You only nodded at her. Flashing her somewhat of a smile as you stood up, returning to your chair.

Carmen watched every move you made. The way your body was shaking ever so slightly. He watched the way you rubbed your hands together before quickly reaching for your bag and getting up. Carmen, let you pass him. He didn't move. Waiting. Hoping that you would stop beside him. But you didn't; you walked right out. And Carmy just sat there. Feeling the light scent of your perfume. The warmth of it brought him so much comfort. He never thought there was a way to remember someone, even the smallest parts of them, with just a scent. But here he was, and he was dazed. But then, as if his own body had been fed up with him, Carmen shot up as he too headed towards the door. He wasn't sure what he was going to say or do, but he had watched you walk away from him way too many times. He couldn't take it anymore. Simply couldn't. His whole body was screaming at him to do whatever it took to get you back. "Y/N!", he shouted as he saw your figure walking down the street quickly. You didn't turn around, so Carmy picked up his speed, shouting your name as he went.

And then you halted. Letting people bump into you as they rushed past, Carmy frowned as he pushed through toward you. "Hey", he said softly, touching your shoulder only to be met with a broken inhale. That's when he noticed the tears. The tremble. Your hand was on your chest as you tried to breathe in, but it seemed like your lungs were working against you. Carmen looked around quickly, spotting a side alleyway only a couple of steps away. He knew that a busy street full of people wasn't helping the case. So he dragged you to the side, earning a couple of strange looks his way, but ignored them completely.

Your hands were over your face as you sobbed quietly. Trying to fight the panic that flooded your body with crippling anxiety. "Do you want to sit down?", Carmen's voice filled your ears through the drumming of your heart. Your knees bucked in response before you could even nod your head. Camren was quick to catch you, wrapping an arm around you. "Hold onto my waist for a bit", he muttered, before trying to pull off his jacket without having you fall. He dropped it to the ground, not wanting you to sit on the filthy road, plus it was cold. Your nails grazed his skin, even through his shirt, as he carefully helped you settle.

Carmen watched you do the same breathing exercises you had taught him. His head was a mess as he tried to remember how you usually handled this. How you took care of him so he could do the same? He reached for your hands, pushing one against his chest, right over his heart, and the other closer to his lips. Before resting his forehead against yours, "You're doing great, love; keep the exhales longer", he muttered. He watched as you fought your tight chest. How you gasped for air, and the panic set inside him. What if he couldn't help you? What if he was doing the opposite? But then you're pulling yourself into his arms, head deep into the crook of his neck. Just like he had pulled you closer to him back in the restaurant. Desperate. In need. And just like then, your two bodies molded together just perfectly. Knowing what each of you needed. Knowing how to hold. To keep. To soothe.

"I'm sorry... I'm", you muttered against his neck. "You haven't done anything to feel sorry for", Carmen reassured you quickly, brushing his fingers through your hair softly as you clung to him. "I should have...", you started once more, but Carmen wasn't having it. Pulling away slightly, he cupped your face, "You breathe for now; that's all that matters."

Your eyes fall on the chain dangling around his neck. Fingers reaching to pull it from beneath his shit, watching the ring he threaded through the metal chain glistening in the midday sun. "You want it back?", Carmen asked, making you look up at him. And in a way, he knew that he was pushing his luck with a question like that. Maybe it was even inappropriate in a way. Because it was not just any ring. Not just any birthday gift. Carmen gifted that to you after the first bumpy patch you two had in New York. Long weeks with barely seeing one another. Bickering over nothing.

"Just open it", he had said back then. A bottle of rose on the side table as you two lay practically on one another in the living room. Carmen had made dinner, and you had offered to make some chocolate souffle. Watching him slip off the sofa and sink to one knee had you staring at him wide-eyed. "Carm...", you had managed to crock out. "Don't worry, I'm not proposing just... This is a promise ring", he breathed out quickly, "I want to do better. I want to only make you happy".

The memory made Carmen's chest heavy. Especially with the amount of pain you two have been through the last couple of months. "Come on, give me your hand", it's barely a whisper but all you can do is watch as he unclasped his chain, sliding the ring back onto your trembling hand. You instantly started twisting the band around your finger. Feeling a wave of calm rushing through you. As if someone had given you an oxygen mask. Carmen just watched you. Still lost in your head but grounded by a piece of him. His fingers slowly ran up and down your arms and back as he tried to soothe you.

"You're feeling better?", Carmen asked once the shaking died down and your grip on him eased. You only managed to nod your head. Attacks like that left you powerless. Weak. And tired. Carmen knew that as well. Carefully, he brushed away the last tears, still dampening your cheeks. "You did great back there", his words made your heart skip a beat as you offered him a burnt-out smile, "Come on before you turn into a fucking ice cube".

Carmen was almost done making some veggie soup when your phone started to ring. At first, he wanted to ignore it. Let it ring out, because now he just didn't feel entitled to pick up and answer. Yes, you came back to the apartment with him, but he knew this meant nothing. Now he was well aware that it meant nothing. You two still needed to talk. And even if Carmen wished you two could just pick up right where you've been before everything crumbled... A fool's dream. Just the ringing didn't stop, and with you asleep just a door away, Carmen reached for your coat pocket.

Luca. Of course, he thought. Who else would it be? A pang of jealousy rushed through Carmy. He quickly silenced it. Just watching the screen. Waiting for the call to die down. And then he did a rash thing as he pressed the green button, "Hello". The other side of the line was dead silent. Carmen even pulled the phone back to make sure that he had indeed answered. "What the fuck are you doing with her phone?", the words burst through the silence harshly. "She... came back with me after a meeting", he hated that he sounded like a little boy. There was almost no confidence in his voice. A part of Carmen waited for Luca to shout at him. Call him names. But all he heard was a sigh, "Just... She's fragile, Carmen. I know shit's been tough for you too, but if you love her...", for some reason, that pulled something in Carmen as he said, "Of course, I love her", "So be honest with her because you might not get another chance." Carmen nodded his head subconsciously. Knowing well that Luca was right.

"So... who's speaking first", you two sat in the living room. You had woken up about an hour ago with a beating headache in your head. Yet seeing the familiar sheets and decor around you helped in a way. But then realization struck. You were back. Back in the place you were meant to turn into a home, with Carmy in the other room. You let yourself just sit there for a while until you stepped out to find him. He sat on the sofa, head in his hands. Where has this taken you? It pained you to see how torn apart you two were. How much has changed?

"I'm the one who's in the wrong", Carmen said calmly, staring ahead of himself, "I never wanted to hurt you. I don't recognize myself looking back". A deep exhale slipped past his lips, "I would never cheat on you. I would never hurt you in that way. That whole Claire thing was shit". You let out a little chuckle, shaking your head, "It didn't look like shit. She has feelings for you, I can see it", "Does it look to you like I give a shit that she feels something for me?", Carmen turned to you quickly, but you didn't look his way.

"Look me in the eyes; look, love", he said, pressing his fingers against your chin and turning your head towards him, "Eyes don't lie. Remember, you told me that". Your eyes flickered up at his. Your bottom lip quivered. You hoped to find sparks of lies there. But there was nothing but truly sorry-looking eyes. "I met with her three times. The night in the grocery store, then at the party full of old people from school, and we sat and talked in the car once", Carmen said. "But why didn't you come and tell me? Tell me that you met her in the store and stuff?", you huffed, pulling away from his touch. "That's what leaves a bitter taste, Carmen. You did it all behind my back", you didn't want this to turn into a full-blown fight, but you could feel the frustration building up inside you.

"I... I don't have a reason why", Carmen's words cut you deep once more. You just gazed at him. Trying to make sense of this situation. "Let me ask you something else", you clicked your tongue, "Did I cross your mind at least once while you were with her?". Carmen opened his mouth but closed it almost immediately. You let out a diflated huf, "Let me answer that for you—you didn't".

You turned away from him. Truly, what were you doing? Why were you here? It wasn't going to lead anywhere. Your eyes scanned all of your stuff that lay all around the place. Looking at you. Staring at you. But before you could even take a step, Carmen practically sobbed, "I'm sick in the head, okay? I don't know my emotions. There are times when I have to tell myself that the sky is not going to fall on me", his voice seeped deep into you. And as much as you wanted to get out, you couldn't bring yourself to go. "But I'm seeing two doctors. I take meds. I want to get better. I want to make this better", his voice cracked, and you felt him right behind you. "Let me be better for you, please", Carmen touched your hands softly, hoping you would turn around to face him. Hoping to see your eyes. To know. Was there at least a sliver of hope?

"What about me? I wasn't honest either. Doesn't that make you angry?", you turned to face him, "There was someone before you, Carmen", but he just shook his head, "Someone who hurt you. He didn't love you the way I love you, and I doubt you truly felt love for him", those words were your undoing, as you quickly clasped your hand over your mouth to silence a cry. "Let me make it better,", Carmen pleaded, intertwining his hands with yours, "I'm not asking you to drop it all and forgive me. Just give me a chance". You let yourself lean against him, closing your eyes and allowing the silent tears to fall.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist: @nishinoyahhh @thewulf @shewasthelimit @chatitajens @azxulaa @hidingfromtex @randomhoex @hopplessdreamer @lostinheavensworld @jackierose902109 @gallaghrh @gabbycoady13 @harrysmatcha @lovejoyenjoyer @infinitelycharmed23 @royalestrellas @hanula18 @thoughtfulmoonchild911 @buckys-winter-child @arieltwvdtohamflash @simsiddy @yezzyyae @hidingfromtex @rooster-bradshaws @simonsaysyasss @hannahmmarie2016 @ladygrey03 @kyushii @smoooore @domaniquessidehoe @shinebright2000

[lottiembae]

FIGHT CLUB; lottie matthews x fem!reader

Summary: y/n get convinced by pj that you need to enter the fight club. lottie didn't like the idea but didn't tell her anything, so she entered too.

Warnings: au bottoms, fluff, blood, two idiots pinning about each other. jackie x shauna in the background.

Note: English is not my first language.

not my gif.

"Have you heard about the new fight club? It is amazing." You said to your friends when you sat down in your usual seat at the cafeteria.

Different reactions from the new information were exchanged. Jackie copied your enthusiasm and clapped, saying that if you are going she is going too, for Shauna's dismay. Van has a similar reaction to Jackie, but in Van's way. Natalie and Laura Lee, indifferent about it but cool with the new club. And then, there are the most skeptical people, Lottie and Shauna. Both brunette girls didn't say anything, just kept eating their food. Shauna has problems sharing her emotions publicly, Jackie is the only one who could cherish it. And Lottie usually gave her opinion in almost everything, and if you are involved it will always be good.

Your focus is entirely on Van and Jackie, a big grin plastered on your face while you talk about it.

"I can't wait to tell Tai. I'm sure she is going too!" Van exclaims excited.

When you were to reply, Lottie wanted to know how you found it so inevitably she interrupted you. "How have you found it?" She asks you softly in comparison to rudely cut you.

All eyes were on her, but she didn't care. The only eyes that care right now would give her the answer. You frown momentarily. "It was PJ. She told me that she, Hazel and Josie created it and she offered that if wanted to join them." You innocently answer.

Lottie bit her tongue, but didn't say anything. She gives you a nod and lets you resume the previous conversation. Her gaze meets Shauna's, who give her a raised eyebrow. Lottie sighs, rolling her eyes. You'll see, it's been a while that a few of them (Shauna, Natalie and Van) started to tease her saying she likes you, every time you two are in the same room her eyes transform in heart eyes, something that is true but never say it to them. It didn't help that they were in the football team playing together. Sometimes she is relieved that she picks to go to the photography club or debate team.

The brown eyed girl doesn't personally meet Josie and PJ. She knew Hazel from the photography club, they didn't exchange many words but the girl seems nice at her every time they are in the same room. About the other two, she doesn't have a based opinion on them because didn't meet them, but Lottie didn't like PJ's vibes.

"Who else could join?" Jackie asks, looking at them. Lottie missed the last part of their conversation, but knowing that the most enthusiastic about it are going to join the club. The football captain looks at Shauna expectant, who was scribbling something in a book. The rest of the girls looked at each other, knowing smiles about the constant situation between the best friends.

Shauna looks up when Natalie lets out a snort, receiving a nudge from Laura Lee. The brunette looks at the rest of the table, confused why all of them are looking at her but understood when her eyes meet Jackie, who already is looking at her with a clearly fake innocent smile.

"What did I lose?" Shauna questioned softly, looking at Jackie.

"You getting into the fight club." Van says out loud, making the rest of the table laugh while Laura Lee disapproves of all their behaviour.

Shauna rolls her eyes, a blush creeping on her cheeks. She knew the moment Y/N commented about it she will go there for Jackie's reaction. So ignoring their friends, her eyes met her favourite hazel eyes.

"Is it necessary that I need to go?" Of course Shauna could put some objections before she says yes.

Jackie rolls her eyes with a smile. "Are you kidding me? I need you there." The captain blinked repeatedly, making Shauna click her tongue sighing.

"Fine." The brown eyed girl gives in, crossing her arms. The whole table cheered for the knowing answer. Shauna curses them, it only makes them tease her more. But it is worth it when Jackie wraps an arm around her shoulder and kisses her cheek in an charming manner for her affirmative answer.

•••

Y/N is in her last period of class that day, sharing it with Van, Lottie and PJ. The redhead and Y/N went to talk with the curly hair girl, who was surprised that two of the most popular girls are talking with her right now. Meanwhile Lottie rolls her eyes when saw her friends go towards her, going to sit on her seat.

It's the first time Y/N wouldn't share the desk with her in the same period. A pang of jealousy ran inside her, watching with her jaw clenched how you opted to sit down with their friend in common, behind PJ seat. She moves her gaze away when the professor enters, muttering a quick apology to come late and proceed to teach the new lesson.

Lottie tried hard to focus on the lesson, but it was difficult when the table from the other side kept whispering through it. She clicked her tongue, frustrated and decided to make a plan for Y/N to forget this stupid fight club thing.

"Lottie! I'm sorry I ditched you, I thought you were behind us." Y/N's voice followed Lottie when the tall girl ran away from the classroom the moment the final whistle sounded.

The brown eyed girl stopped and turned to look at her, not malice in her voice. Even she was giving her a sincere apology. Lottie sighed, she so screwed up. "It's okay, Y/N/N. You can go on your new adventure." The last part was said with a hint of sarcasm, turning on heels and walking to her locker.

Y/N watches confused how her friend walked fast. A whistle on her right side makes her turn to look at Van. "You are in problems..." The redhead sang, patting her shoulder and pushing her softly.

"What do I do?" Y/N asks, a little sad knowing her friend is pissed at her for some reason.

Van hummed. "I have a few ideas." They muttered.

Y/N frown, but Tai and Jackie with a Shauna flying behind her interrupted their conversation. "Alright! It's time to go to our first meeting, let's go!" Jackie grabs Y/N's wrist and brings her with her. The girl noticed she did the same thing with Shauna, who has a brief pout painted on her face.

"Where is it?" Taissa asked, following close behind Y/N and Shauna.

"At the gym!" Van and Y/N said at the same time, remembering the previous exchange of dates with PJ.

Jackie made an abrupt turn and changed the direction, the girls she has a hold on the wrist protest for her lack of delicacy. When they arrived, they were met with two backs standing there inside the gym. The noise the little group did, made the two girls and rest inside look at them. Shauna and Y/N wanted to hide, blushing considerably.

"Sorry, girls! I don't think we would appear like that..." Jackie apologised, without letting her friend's wrists she entered in, greeting Isabel and Brittany.

"Damn, I already love this club..." Y/N could hear Van murmur, letting out a hiss later. She assumed Taissa was responsible.

"You came!" PJ said a little surprised, even if she had the confirmation from earlier, she didn't think Y/N was approaching there, alongside her popular friends too. "Hi! Take a seat please. I was saying that we are punctual and if someone wanted to come and it started, they could be out." The curly hair tried to say it firm, but her nervousness betrayed her.

They sat down, some whispers were heard but they didn't pay attention until someone let out a squeal.

"You all are here!" The characteristic Misty Quigley's cheerful voice greets them. Y/N could hear Shauna grit her teeth, cursing something under her breath. It calls Jackie's attention, who gave her a warning look.

After the interruption, they let the founders explain why they decided to create this club and later they put in pairs to practice. Jackie immediately chose Shauna, Van and Tai got together too, it let Y/N look shyly around her.

"I can go with you!" PJ approaches her, giving her a reassuring smile. Y/N thanked her, she dismissed it and grabbed her hand, going a little away from the girls. "We can practice better without anyone interfering." She explained, blushing when you nod and turned her back at her.

PJ explained what Y/N needs to do, teaching with her hands what she has to do. When she did it wrong PJ grabbed her hand and gently positioned it correctly.

"C'mon, punch me!" PJ encouraged her, putting her fist up.

Y/N grimace, unsure. "Really? I mean, I prefer if you do it first." PJ bit her lower lip, the red shadow coming back at her cheeks. "Are you okay?" The footballer is worried, noticing the red cheeks.

"Yeah, it is hot here." PJ lied, clearing her throat. "Okay, I'll go first and you need to block it and punch me back, alright?" Y/N nods.

PJ licked her lips and nodded to herself, counting to let Y/N time to react. When PJ moves her fist to try to connect with her face, she never thought she actually would hit Y/N's face. She thought the other girl would block and throw back the punch. But Y/N screaming in pain and the sound that makes her nose when her fist connects with her septum, PJ stands stunned on her spot.

Shauna went immediately to help Y/N, the rest of the girls following her. The brunette gently removes Y/N's hands around her face and grimace when saw the blood fall like a fountain. At this PJ reacts, starting to apologise feeling really bad about it.

"Okay, I'm going to take you to the infirmary." Shauna said, standing up and helping her friend. Her other friends accompanied them and the rest looked awkwardly waiting for a new command.

It's Hazel who dismisses the class, promising that they let them know when would be the next class. Josie approaches PJ and wipes her tears, hugging her.

•••

The next day when Lottie sees Y/N almost pass out. The tall girl approaches her and hugs her. "What happened?" She asked, worry. She removed from the hug but stayed closed.

"It's my first punch that I received!" Y/N excited said. It made Lottie frown confused.

"Who punches you?" She inquired, a suspicious look installing on her eyes.

"Relax, it was an accident. PJ was my partner and while she taught me and accidentally hit my nose, I was supposed to dodge it." Y/N explained.

Lottie tense when she heard what happened. Actually she is fuming, wanting to do the same thing with the girl and really teach some real defensive skills.

"You aren't going anymore." Lottie murmurs lowly, grabbing your hand and taking her to her first class, like usual.

Y/N rolled her eyes. "Not offense, Lottie. But I need to remember I play football? And when Stacy Moon punches on the ribs? It's nothing." She tried to reassure her best friend, moving her hand up and down for her arm when they stopped near the class. Natalie passed there and saw the gesture, she rolled her eyes and got inside. "I'll see you later, okay? Nat, wait! Look at my nose!" Lottie rolls her eyes this time, a tiny smile playing on her lips watching her going behind the dyed blonde and showing it.

The brunette saw Shauna trying to hide from her. She scowls, knowing very well why she is doing it. Lottie thought it was a little silly because they shared the first period and they sat down near. She let her friend hide all she wanted, soon Lottie would corner her.

"Before you said anything! There are more of us too, don't blame me." Shauna quickly said, licking her lips nervously.

Lottie rounded her desk while looking at her and sat down on her own. "You are right. I have that in mind in a future." She muttered, advertising her gaze and grabbing her book.

Shauna frowned, not liking the reaction her friend is having. She knows how protective Lottie is when Y/N is involved. She could understand because she felt the same with Jack-... nevermind, what Shauna wants to know is why Lottie isn't around Y/N but she is, how is the responsibility to take care of Y/N pass to her?

The rest of the class Shauna was uncomfortable, wishing it finishes and went to her second period, gladly she has it with Tai and not Lottie.

Lottie went to her second class and saw how PJ and Hazel entered it. Her first impulse was to approach the curly hair girl and punch her, but already she has suffered it on her nose. She thinks about Y/N and what would she say to her if she threatened PJ. So Lottie walked with her jaw clenched, an arm around her shoulder distract her. Turning her eyes to the person she saw a snide smirk in Nat's face.

"Easy there tiger. Y/N told me about it. PJ didn't have the fault either Y/N." The blue eyed girl said, entering the classroom and going to the end of the class, sitting on her usual desk.

Lottie gave her a sarcastic smile, rolling her eyes.

•••

After the accident, PJ went to the infirmary encouraged by Josie and Hazel and went to apologise. For her luck, Y/N reassuringly said that it was an accident. Even she made a joke that now they are matching, pointing their noses.

So the next day they have another class and two new members. Y/N's eyes opened and grinned excitedly when she saw Lottie and Natalie walk inside. The expressions they were wearing were very different. Lottie wore a serious expression, softening it when saw Y/N's face and Natalie had a smug smirk the whole time.

"You two are here!" Y/N exclaims excited, giving them a brief hug.

"I have convinced her." Natalie sang, giggling when Lottie gave her a dirty look. She patted Y/N's shoulder and went with Van and Tai sitting with them.

Y/N grabs the brunette hand and goes to sit down on the floor, waiting for the class to start. "I thought you were skeptical about it." She teases her, nudging her shoulder with hers.

Lottie rolls her eyes, a playful smile resting on her lips. "I still think this is stupid, but I will give an opportunity." She said in a boring tone, chuckling when Y/N punched softly in her arm. "That and to defend you from these angry girls."

Before Y/N could reply, Hazel approaches them and greets Lottie animatedly. "Hey! I'm glad you are here." She said sincerely.

They engaged in a short conversation, Y/N staying aside and listening to it. Her mind is picturing why these two know each other. Her didn't wonder too much because someone was clapping to call their attention. Before Hazel goes with PJ and Josie, she asks Y/N how she felt from yesterday's event.

"How do you know her?" Y/N asked curiously, following the calm girl step towards the pair. Lottie turned to look at her, a little surprised by the tone she used, but she decided to not point it out.

"She is in the photography club too. She is really good at it." The brunette explained, biting her lip.

Y/N nods, pursuing her lips.

"Already! Today we will continue with yesterday's movements and before we finish, practice against each other. It continues for tomorrow all day, okay? Let's go!" Josie exclaims, clapping with her hands and dismissing the group in pairs.

Y/N and Lottie stood up. "Can you go with Nat? I don't want to let PJ out." She pouted.

"Really?" Lottie asked, unbelievable. But Y/N begged her and intertwined her hands, making emphasis. "Okay. But only this time." She rolled her eyes, scolding herself and reproaching she needed to be stronger. Spoiler: she will not.

For this, Y/N grabs Lottie's face between her hands and tiptoeing, she kisses her cheeks repeatedly. Then, she went towards PJ, letting a blush mess behind her.

The rest of the session they have a lot of fun. Y/N punched a few times at PJ, without intention. The same with the curly hair girl, the best part is that they have some good laughs about it. Then, they all gathered in the middle and the first ones to fight each other were the best friends, followed surprisingly with Shauna and Misty. A good tie. And before they call it over, Y/N and Jackie were the last ones.

"Scared, baby girl?" Jackie teasingly said with an amused smile. Y/N rolls her eyes when she hears the nickname her friend gives her at the start of the year.

"Sure." Y/N murmurs, positioning herself and looking at her with deep concentration.

They rounded themselves a few times, cheerful from the other girls who were heard in the big gym. Jackie is the first one to attack Y/N, but this one dismisses it quickly, gaining support from the presents there. The next time Jackie does the second attack, Y/N dodge it and throw her fist to Jackie's left cheek, hitting her. The captain let out a hiss, Y/N worried a little when she hit her but soon positioned herself in position when Jackie quickly reacted and gave her a kick on her ribs. Y/N doubled herself on the floor, bringing her hand to the kicked zone.

"Shit! Are you alright?" Jackie's raspy voice sounded more, she bent down and put a hand on her shoulder.

Lottie and PJ approach them fast, making them stop abruptly and look at each other. PJ's gaze is awkward while Lottie is serious.

"I'm fine." Y/N let out a hiss, but reassure her friend who looks really worried.

"Okay, I think it is over. Good fight girls." Josie said.

Shauna walked to Jackie and Y/N, nudging Lottie when she passed by her side. The brunette bit her lip and gave PJ a force smile. "Good job, PJ. I can't wait to come back." If PJ knows her, she would catch the real meaning of those words, but Lottie is really good at hiding it and only Shauna and Jackie catch them.

PJ nods, relaxing. "Cool. See you tomorrow!" She said and walked fast to her friend.

"Give her a break, Matthews." Jackie scolded her, helping Y/N with Shauna's help.

"Shut up." Lottie muttered.

•••

The days passed and Lottie actually started liking these classes. She couldn't go to every class due to her extra classes, but when she could go, it was a really good time.

It worsened the crush she has on Y/N. Her eyes are prolonging more on her figure and her dreaming is interrupted by her friends, receiving later teasing comments.

For Y/N, it changed too. She didn't know she had something for Lottie until that Hazel girl started to talk more with her, making her laugh. Y/N commented on it with Van, since she knew the redhead more than the other girls. The freckled redhead said to her between some teasing and joking comments that she has a crush on Lottie. At first Y/N denied it, but then Van started to point things and then she assumed the redhead was right.

And it didn't help that the same day Y/N could face Hazel wad the day that two couldn't stop talking, making Y/N really piss about it. Shauna and Van intervene to hold Y/N when she pinned Hazel on the floor and started punching her, not with a strong hit but enough to make some cut to the kind brunette. Lottie went to help Hazel, a worried look on her face and it made Y/N angrier, so with quitting the hold on her figure she stormed out, not looking back.

Y/N ran away from there, her legs took her to the changing room. She sighed and let out a huff, sitting on her usual bench. The best part is that she has training sessions now and it means she will see Lottie. And she probably will be angry with her.

"There you are." PJ's voice interrupted her mind. She is panting, bending down and putting both hands on her knees, catching some air. It amused a little Y/N.

"You are in the right place." Y/N inevitable remark at her, PJ rolls her eyes but walks towards her, sitting on the floor with her knees up while reposing her arms there, looking at her.

"What happened there?" The curly hair girl asks softly.

Y/N averted her gaze, clicking her tongue. "I don't know... I just got a lot of information I guess..." She mutters, playing with her fingers on her lap. She isn't lying, after all.

"You like Lottie Matthews." PJ points out, making Y/N open her eyes and stammering repeatedly a no. PJ gave her a kind smile. "I see how you look at her," the blue eyed girl said, shrugging. "It's the same manner I look at Brittany... Or any girl in general." The last comment made Y/N laughs, PJ laughed with her. "Look, you need to confess to her because it could be bigger and maybe you regret it in the future to not tell her how you really feel. Remember that you aren't losing anything."

"What about her friendship?" Y/N asks, unsure.

"Right." PJ said under her breath, frowning." But it wouldn't happen." She reassured her. Y/N threw at her and wrapped her arms around her neck, taking surprise at PJ.

"She is here!" Someone yells, making both jump. Y/N scolded Van, who wiggles their eyebrows.

Y/N raised her index finger in the air. "Don't say anything." She warns at the redhead.

Van raised their hands in the pockets of their jacket. Soon, the rest of the girls approach there. PJ stood up, feeling really nervous.

"I think I'm going with Josie and see how Hazel is," Y/N grimace with Hazel's name and PJ immediately rectified, not wanting to make her feel bad. "Or not, she is fine." Then, she waves and walks fast from there.

Natalie steps towards Y/N and gives her backpack. "And I thought you were the weak one." She receives a nudge from her, making Nat chuckles. The dyed blonde patted her arm and went to change.

Y/N sees how the rest do the same, the girls don't go to the fight club showing up. But what called her attention was Lottie. The brunette is standing near her, crossing her arms while trying to decipher her. She stood up too and stepped towards her.

"Lottie, I'm sorry. I don't know why I did it." She apologised, feeling bad. The brown eyed girl shakes her head softly, making the other frown. "No...?"

"It's not me you need to apologise." Lottie gently told you and with a sight she went to change too.

•••

When Y/N thought anything could go more bad, she was wrong. Following Lottie's advice, Y/N went to apologise with Hazel. But she doesn't have time to do it because when she approached the class was going to start, so she made a mental note to speak with the girl after it finished.

It never happened.

Result that the girls went to do an adventure to Jeff's house. Y/N really enjoyed it, she was sticking with Nat and Van the whole time. That's not the reason why Y/N didn't apologise, she didn't even know that she was going but Jackie threw her at the van.

During class, they decided to open up and say why they want to learn to fight. Y/N and Lottie never got the opportunity to speak on it. She didn't know how everything started but PJ accused Hazel and Josie accused PJ. Hazel stormed out when PJ told her a hurt comment.

Then, in the introduction to the football team, a player called them out. Hazel fought with a guy who was in a cage. It happened too that PJ and Josie lied to them, they never went to a juvie centre. Y/N felt betrayed, like the rest of the girls.

Since that day, Y/N hasn't talked with Lottie. Scared to give her the reason, that she was right from the start. In the training session she avoided Lottie and remains with Nat or Shauna. They tried to reason with her, but it did not matter what they said to Y/N, the girl didn't listen.

So right now, it is the big day. The football team would play against their big rivals. Y/N has the jacket of her team, walking between Van and Tai to the stands. Someone has another plan and pulled her hand and took her under the stands. Y/N did not oppose resistance when her eyes found the long brown hair cascading on her back. It is Lottie.

She let out Y/N's hand and crossed her arms, looking at her with a defeat look. The other girl noticed how prominent dark circles are under her eyes, telling her how bad she is sleeping.

"I don't know why you are ignoring me. But please, stop. It hurt me, from all of the people you can't be mad at me. I don't care if some of the others are mad at me..." Lottie begged, Y/N saw how she was holding her tears.

Y/N felt like a bad person. She didn't deserve Lottie at all. She brings her hand to grab one of her hands, caressing the palm in circles. "I'm sorry, Lottie. I'm not pretending to hurt you I just don't want to confront you or you telling me about how bad the club idea was... I'm a stupid."

"You aren't a stupid. And I can't say it was a good idea because in some way the girls helped us." Lottie murmurs, catching with her thumb yours.

"There is one more reason..." Y/N advertised her gaze, feeling shy about it. Lottie brings her free hand to her cheek, her gaze coming back to the brunette, seeing the warmth on her brown eyes. "I realised, with Van's help," she poorly said, seeing a tiny smirk appear on Lottie's lips. "That I like you, like you. That's why I acted with Hazel like that. I mean it's not a reason to excuse my behaviour. I guess I got jealous and..." Lottie shush you with her finger, lit on her eyes. The height difference showing up since Y/N needed to look up.

"Can you repeat it?" Lottie asked in a husky voice, hopeful swimming in her eyes and on her smile.

"I guess I got jeal-," "Not that part." Lottie chuckles.

"I like you." Y/N whispered.

Lottie closed the gap and brushed her lips with hers, bringing her other hand to her cheek and caressing the skin there, deepening the kiss. After they need breath and separate, Lottie leans her forehead on Y/N's, brushing their noses.

"I like you too." Lottie confess.

But before they could continue on their bubble, Josie and PJ interrupted them and between apologies, they asked for their help.

"We could do it better." Lottie whispered on Y/N's ear, kissing her head while the girl leaned on her shoulder giggling, covered in blood just like her. The arm the brunette has on her waist pushed softly towards herself, trying to be the most near possible.

They saw Shauna and Jackie's first kiss.

[zaimta]

I saw your post about requests being open and when I saw that you write for Niji I knew I had to slide in here with a request!

Could you write something using the prompt:

"I knew you'd be trouble, I didn't think you'd be this much trouble"

Either just Niji or if the prompt inspires ideas for any other characters of your choice, consider it Niji + dealer's choice

Happy writing 🩵

zai says- i lowkey love all the vinsmokes (not judge ofc.) it’s a bummer how underrated they are outside of sanji (they shitty people ik😭) also forgive me if everyone seems a tad ooc i haven’t watched wci in 2 years

ˏˋ«────── « 𓆩♡𓆪 » ──────»

you were a war tactician hired by judge vinsmoke himself. your intelligence was feared as well as admired, and your tenacious rule with an iron fist made you a formidable foe. as the only army who came close to defeating germa 66 in war he made you chief of germa’s war division so he could devote himself fully to his science research.

he stood in front of his warriors with you at his right hand “from this day forth y/n l/n will be leading you lot into battle. any problems or concerns goes straight to them from now on and i expect you won’t have any problems. am i clear.”

“yes sir!!” echos among the loyal soldiers as they all stand in stance to salute you.

“dismissed.” your roaring voice echoes among the soldiers.

adjusting to the germa kingdom was something that came smoothly for you, however keeping track of all the various technologies and weapons they had at their disposal felt more like a chore rather than an aspect of your job you opted to leave that type of thing to the vinsmokes. you were only here to come up with plans and lead them into battle whatever tools they used to execute said plans seemed like it was beyond you, despite it being your job.

as a tactician you spent most of your time holed up in your office coming up with various plans to take down your foes swiftly and quickly. usually any meetings would be held with the vinsmoke children themselves because judge was busy with other matters you couldn’t be bothered enough to care about. but that’s when you met him. something about his laid back demeanor as a solider threw you off.

any comment you made about it was met with insubordination. you were his boss as well as him being yours, the work place dynamic was quite confusing.

your back was turned as you scribbled defensive positions on the whiteboard explaining them to the siblings as you went through them “i say you blow those bastards to kingdom come then allow them to stay operational for their materials.” you heard your voice say. your rolled your eyes and turned around pointing your marker at him “no powers in the briefing room solider.” niji only snickered at his reprimanding.

ichji chimed in from his spot beside his brother, you liked ichji as a solider he was obedient and more than often pulled his own weight in war “that wouldn’t be a bad idea to consider l/n.”

you nodded in agreement “while yes i do agree. the people of piku are resilient fighters on top of that they have world class weapons smiths. it would be best to let them believe they’ve gained a victory while pulling the strings in the background from the background.”

yonji, the youngest of the four, slammed his fist on the table “no way! the germa kingdom fights head on we’re not some cowards.”

you sent him a sharp side glare for his outburst “it’s also how you have so many casualties. just because your shoulders are genetically modified doesn’t mean you should be careless. your army could have had ten times the man power you lot have now. having no plan gets you nowhere solider.”

he huffed like a child who was just told no the first time, which you swiftly ignored.

you peer up at the clock you’ve all been in this meeting for a couple hours it would be best to wrap it up “that is all for now. i’ll be briefing you all individually next time as i understand you all have separate missions you need to get to. dismissed.”

as usual niji lingered after his siblings, to annoy you, you assumed “lovely plan as always tactician.” you only raised a brow which causes him to raise his hands in mock defense “now now what’s with all the hostility? keep frowning like that and your face will get stuck sweets.”

you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms “i knew you’d be trouble, i didn’t think you’d be this much trouble.” he never failed to get on your nerves. you make a point to remain neutral with all your soldiers but he was the exception.

he rested his cheek on his face with a grin “what do you like it? cause i can keep going.” to say you’ve caught his eye was an understatement. he’s had his eye on you since he cornered you and your soldiers. the pure look of hate and destain in your eyes was hot to him he’d be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on just a bit.

you shot him a glare “ah yes!” he said pointing at you, he then stood up and walked over to you trapping your chin between his index finger and his thumb “that’s exactly the look i wanted to see” god he loved annoying you.

“vinsmoke.” you said flatly clearly irritated with his antics.

“yes?” he responded smirking at you still, oh what you wouldn’t give to wipe that stupid smirk off his face. you pointed towards the door which caused him to sigh “fine fine. but for the record you’re no fun” he reluctantly released your chin and walked out the door backwards to keep his eyes on you.

oh yeah you were totally gonna be his partner he was sure of it.

[a-random-weeb]

I hear your cry for inspiration and have come to help! Here we go! Hows about Dazai wing-manning for any poor soul of your choice!

OMFG YES TYSM I NEEDED EASY REQUESTS I LOVE YOU ANON!!

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა./づᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊° i shoot u >:(

૮꒰ ˶> ༝ <˶꒱ა./づᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊°.~♡︎ with love tho-

Kunikida was too perfect to be the poor soul

Ikik, this definitely isn't my best, for some reason when I have writers block my writing quality also just 📉📉📉😭

Warnings: Dazai in himself is a warning, this is crack

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

Dazai shouldn't be allow in the same country as a woman, and yet here he was handing out dating advice.

"Let yourself relax! Be chill and cool about it!" Dazai beams, yanking Kunikidas notebook out of his hands and throwing it in the public garbage can of the city. Cars speed by as Dazai gives kunikida a small lesson on

"Hey!!" Kunikida hustles over to the bin, digging it out, "Don't throw my child in the trash!"

"You won't need that if you're gonna be anywhere within a 50 ft radius of a woman." Dazai continues, "You have no rizz or gyatt... What to do about that...?"

"Are you speaking another language?" Kunikida asks as a genuine question. Dazai chuckles, getting a horrible great idea

"No! Gyatt means 'lady', so if you say "you have a nice gyatt" it means "you're a nice lady"! Trust me, all the girls love to hear that." Dazai says with a mischievous smirk. Kunikida raises his eyebrow, but proceeds to take notes none the less.

"And what does 'riss' mean?"

"It's pronounced 'rizz'. Rizz means you're a nice guy! So if you say "I have so much rizz", it means I'm a nice guy and you should date me! In a less awkward way ofc!" Kunikida scribbles this down. Dazai continues to ramble and teach kunikida his "knowledge".

"I think it's about time you approach a woman! I'll take this for the time being!" Dazai once again steals kunikidas notebook, pointing to a random woman, "Go approach her!! I'll be watching!" He giggles, pushing Kunikida towards the lady who was peacefully walking before disgaurding kunikidas notebook once more in the public trashcan.

"To, hey girlie! You got a nice gyatt! I've got rizzler frfr!" Kunikida attempts. "I-I- meant have rizz and am rizzler!" He stutters. The lady cringes and awkwardly slips away, leaving kunikida confused and Dazai a mess of mischievous laughter.

"What did i do wrong?" He turns to Dazai, watching the brunette die of laughter.

"Oh, taking advantage of your ignorance is the best thing a man could ask for!" Kunikidas eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"Whatever, where's my notebook?"

"..."

Safe to say he researched every word Dazai told him of. Poor thing, his whole face would be redder than Lucy's hair. At least now he understood why she walked away so awkwardly...

✩°｡⋆⸜ ✮₊˚⊹♡✩°｡⋆⸜ ✮₊˚⊹♡✩°｡⋆⸜ ✮₊˚⊹♡✩°｡⋆⸜ ✮₊˚⊹♡

I found listening honkai star rail background music while I write makes it easier for some reason. Idk, it's some find if magic shit

It felt so weird to write something not x reader

[thatanimewriter]

𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏 - 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘰𝘣 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵!

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❝ 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞. ❞ ──   𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘻𝘶𝘬𝘢  𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘪 𝘹 𝘨𝘯. 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

you are the heir to a well-known doll company. ironically, you’re just as small as one. at ouran academy, you help out at the host club as a host yourself, creating dolls of your clients upon their request. though it seems it's not just the guests who admire your work...

── 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦, 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵! 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘵

𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 + 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

"welcome!" the boys greeted as haruhi stepped into the club room - late, might i add. you came through holding some baskets of fruit, ignoring the mass of shirtless boys nearby.

"you finally made it, haruhi, you're so late," the twins teased monotonously.

"i could be wrong, but my calendar says it's still early spring," haruhi mumbled, checking her pocket calendar.

"cuddling under a kotatsu table fearing the cold is nonsense!" tamaki exclaimed while honey and mori ran around in the background. "and besides, the heating system we have here is... the best!"

"do you have a problem with the way we run our club, haruhi?" kyoya inquired. "be careful what you say, you owe us 8 million yen, remember?" haruhi gasped in surprise, thinking about the broken vase in horror.

"gentlemen don't bundle up in bulky clothing," you said, mimicking Tamaki, earning a chuckle from mori and kyoya and a laughing fit from honey and the twins. once more, mori set off with honey on his shoulders

"it may be chilly early spring out there in the real world, but here at the club, we want to surprise our chilly little kittens with a warm tropical paradise." tamaki wrapped an arm around haruhi. "oh, yes! we've turned this place into nirvana!" the longer tamaki spoke, the more club members zoned out. you finished placing the fruit on each member's table and went into the changerooms, finding your balinese outfit hanging on the wall.

────── 〔✿〕──────

you inwardly cringed at tamaki's successful attempts at swooning his guests.

"oh, yes. i almost forgot to mention to you ladies. next week, the ouran host club is sponsoring a party," tamaki commented.

"we're throwing a party?" haruhi asked, turning around.

"what kind of party is it going to be? is it going to be formal?" one of the twin's guests inquired.

"yes, in fact, we've rented the school's largest hall," hikaru responded.

"it's the perfect place for dancing," kaoru added.

hikaru moved closer to his brother, "but i really wanted to spend some alone time with you, kaoru."

"don't be upset, hikaru. i know exactly how you feel." at their interactions, their guests lost composure, fangirling over the dynamic.

"the guests seem to be more worked up than they usually are," haruhi noted.

"showing some skin proves popular with the ladies," kyoya replied, scribbling in his notebook.

"so, are you the one who came up with this tropical paradise idea?" she wondered.

"he has no decision-making authority. all of the club's policies have been laid out by the club's king, tamaki," you answered, standing beside haruhi. "but, i guess there's no harm in saying that kyoya slipped a bali photobook onto tamaki's desk."

"ta-da!" honey exclaimed, presenting his balinese flowers draped around his neck. "hi, ladies! i love these balinese flowers! we had them flown in!" mori walked past holding a pineapple. "takashi!" honey crawled up his cousin's body and threw an identical necklace over his head. "there! we match!"

"very cute, boys," you commented with a small smile.

"[name]! do you want one, too?" the shorter boy asked.

"oh, well..." you put a finger to your chin, "if you don't mind..." the guests sitting with the pair gushed over your actions as honey placed another necklace around your neck. as you were about to leave, mori tapped your shoulder, making you turn around once more. he gently placed a stray flower behind your ear and ruffled your hair with a nearly unnoticeable smile. "thanks, takashi!"

he hummed in response, "yeah."

────── 〔✿〕──────

"hey, boss! why don't you stop eating that commoner's ramen and come over here to help us with the party planning," hikaru suggested.

"does it really bother you that princess kasuga has taken a liking to haruhi?" you asked gently.

"he shouldn't be surprised, she's had the illness for a while, now, hasn't she?" kyoya commented.

"what illness?" haruhi wondered, causing the twins to slide over to her.

"she's got the host hopping disease," hikaru began.

"a.k.a, the never-the-same-boy-twice disease," kaoru finished.

"usually our customers choose a favourite host and then see them regularly. however, princess kanako tends to change her favourites; on a regular basis," kyoya explained monotonously.

"that's right! because before she was with you she was with tama-chan," honey added cheerfully.

"oh. so, he's upset because i took her from him?" haruhi asked blankly.

"shut up! i couldn't care less! i'm running out of patience!" tamaki exclaimed. "haruhi! it's time you started dressing like a girl!"

"huh?"

"i don't understand how you could be so popular with the ladies when you yourself are a lady! no one in the entire school knows the truth except for those of us here!" he complained, completely outraged.

"yeah, she opted out of taking gym classes," hikaru said.

"and the attendance numbers are all mixed together, so no one can tell," kaoru added.

you jumped when tamaki suddenly pulled out a middle school photo of haruhi in a large golden frame. "the more i look at this picture, the more amazed i am," hikaru commented. "how could this possibly become that?" the entire club turned to haruhi as she explained the struggles of getting gum out of long hair.

"i can confirm. it is a pain," you said, turning to mori and gently taking his hand in yours to grab his attention. he turned to face you, squeezing your hand lightly to signify he was listening. "i've got to head home, now. fill me in when things get sorted out?"

"mhm," he replied, releasing your hand as you went to gather your things.

────── 〔✿〕──────

you opened the doors to the club, followed by a boy carrying tea sets.

"hello? i'm here with the new teacups you ordered," the boy announced.

"ah. thank you very much," kyoya responded. "every item you've chosen for us has been extremely popular with the ladies. i'm quite impressed."

"well, that's good to hear," the boy answered.

"so, do you sell tea sets?" haruhi questioned, walking over to the pair.

"no, i'm just a regular student. can't you tell by the uniform?"

you eyed them as they conversed, returning to your station you had temporarily set up to finish the doll you'd been working on. softly combing through the synthetic hair, you began sticking it onto the head that was covered in glad wrap. from afar, mori watched as you created the wig that would later be properly attached to the doll. oddly enough, he didn't recognise the hair colour as a guest of yours, or anyone's, really. pulling up a chair beside you, he noticed a small mp3 player beside you, and a single earbud tucked into your ear. taking the other, he scooted closer to you and put the earbud in his ear, watching in silence as you worked.

"aren't you gonna participate in whatever antics are going on with the others?" you wondered, gently laying more wefts of hair onto the scalp of the blank doll, not taking your eyes off your work.

"hm," he responded, and though it was only a short hum, you knew he wasn't interested in tamaki's scheming, or in this case, sulking. "who's this?"

you turned to him briefly, taking in the gentle gaze that he seemed to always hold for yourself and honey before turning back to your work. "just a random project, it's nothing specific." mori arched an eyebrow almost microscopically at your hesitance, but didn't question further. his eyes seemed to brighten as a new song came on, one that you often listened to when the both of you would study together in comfortable silence, though while it tended to bring a smile to his face at the thought of all the memories and times you'd spent together, he couldn't help but notice a distant - almost sad - look in your eyes as you worked.

glancing at the drawing you'd done as a concept, he observed the various blemishes and chips along the doll's body. of course, he knew you'd paint them on, you would never dare destroy the doll's body itself, that was absolute sacrilege in your mind. the longer he looked at it, the more he found that the texture you'd shaded onto the skin on your concept drawing looked a lot like concrete, or even bone with how broken the doll seemed to look. and yet, there was only one thing that seemed to come to mind for him.

"beautiful."

your gaze flicked to him and you quickly realised what he was referring to. what you'd been working on was far from your usual style, since the girls at the host club often wanted to be portrayed the most heavenly as possible, flawless in every way, and though you knew mori would be one of your biggest supporters - alongside family and honey - his reaction still surprised you.

"thank you, takashi," you said, allowing him to keep looking over your sketch, fully taking in all the detail that the host club's guests didn't allow for and a gentle smile graced his lips at the thought of you being able to use this design to refresh your skills in painting, but he'd made a mental note to come back to the forlorn look behind your eyes.

────── 〔✿〕──────

"it is so good to see you here tonight, my little lambs," tamaki began, "the ouran host club would like to bid you... welcome." a spotlight fell upon his figure as he bowed for the audience gathered in one of the academy's biggest halls. then, one by one, each chandelier that hung from the ceiling lit up, showing the crowd of predominantly women, and cueing the orchestra to begin playing. as applause reverberated through the room, the hosts that were placed on equal intervals on the staircase rose to full height, tamaki being top and centre.

"as always, ladies, the host club members are here for your entertainment, so we invite you to dance to your heart's content. based on her dancing skills, one lucky lady will be chosen as tonight's queen. the queen's reward will be a passionate kiss on the cheek from our king," kyoya explained, oddly chipper considering the expenses necessary to put on such a function.

"good luck to you, my darlings," tamaki said, causing girls left and right to swoon and squeal, in some cases faint.

the twins slid over to haruhi, who was hunched over herself and looking rather sick of it already, not that she could be blamed. "haruhi, show some enthusiasm," they chided.

"well excuse me, you guys, sorry. i'm not used to this sort of thing," haruhi explained, "i've only ever gone to the festivals held in my neighborhood park."

"i don't know if you can really consider that a party or not..." you mumbled to yourself, standing beside a mori with a honey sitting atop his shoulders.

"well, since you're already here you might as well get yourself something to eat," kyoya suggested, writing in his iconic black notebook.

"we've got quite a spread," you encouraged, which seemed to cheer haruhi up just a little bit.

"a spread?" she asked, "with fancy tuna?" she asked innocently. kyoya's pen snapped - god knows how much strength that took - and the whole club seemed shocked.

"fancy tuna?!" they exclaimed. tamaki flipped himself over the stairs onto the level the rest of the club were standing on as haruhi went red with embarrassment, getting snuggled by both hikaru and kaoru, who were rubbing their cheeks against her hair with tears in their eyes.

"get some fancy tuna here right now!" tamaki demanded.

"add some deluxe sushi," kyoya spoke into his phone.

you sighed at their doting. "now that that's out of the way... you boys should head onto the dance floor. you shouldn't keep these lovely ladies waiting," you said.

as they separated and took the hands of various women waiting for a dance, you hid away in the dressing room, setting up the supplies that hikaru and kaoru had brought and making sure haruhi's dress was properly steamed and ready to go.

"thanks, [name]," a chorus of voices said, making you turn to face the hosts, bar tamaki, mori and honey.

"no problem, i'm assuming kasuga has arrived?" you wondered.

"mori-senpai and honey-senpai should be bringing haruhi now-"

just as kyoya spoke, a whirlwind of bodies came through the door and mori set down haruhi from his grasp.

"you didn't have to be so forceful," haruhi complained.

"never mind that, go get changed," hikaru retorted.

"yeah!" honey added, pushing haruhi into the curtained off section for her to change.

"a little accident towards the end of the night would be quite thrilling," kyoya commented, "and remember haruhi, there are only 20 minutes remaining before the party reaches its climax."

"suzushima is already waiting for you in the classroom across the hall," you informed.

as haruhi pulled back the curtain and sat in the makeup chair, you gently folded her suit, making sure it was neat for when she changed back.

"you have to ask him how he feels, ok?" honey said.

"uhhh, we know this is the boss' strategy, but it's kind of unsettling," the twins stated, working their magic onto haruhi's face until the doors burst open once again.

"gentlemen! here you all are, what are you doing?" tamaki exclaimed, "the guests are waiting for-" he abruptly stopped talking when he caught sight of haruhi, donning a lovely light pink dress and wig eerily similar to the hairstyle she had before she cut her hair.

"so? what do you think?" the twins asked, happy with their handiwork.

"wow, you look so cute!" honey complimented as the club watched haruhi walk awkwardly around the room.

"my face feels heavy and it's hard to walk in these shoes," she complained, heading down the hall to meet suzushima.

"good luck, haruhi!" the twins cheered, watching her disappear down the dark unlit corridors.

"i can't believe... she's so pretty," tamaki mumbled, staring in adoration from behind the twins.

you sighed and stood by honey, turning him to face you gently as you smoothed out his blazer. "there, all cute again," you said, giving him a smile.

"thanks [nickname]-chan!"

as you inspected mori, you did the same, gently tugging on the bottom of his blazer to straighten any crinkles from impromptu kidnapping haruhi. "takashi," you muttered, eyeing his wonky ribbon tie. understanding your request, he knelt down for you to reach it, letting you shift it enough to centre it again. "look at you, all stoic and handsome," you teased as he stood again.

he smiled lightly at the gesture. "hm."

────── 〔✿〕──────

yourself and the host club smiled as you onlooked kasuga and suzushima dance together under the pale moonlight, as did the guests, though you couldn't help but notice the bananas that the twins had somehow sourced for themselves.

"ah, may this awkward couple forever be blessed!" tamaki exclaimed, extending his arms out extravagantly.

"and now we'll announce the queen of the ball!" hikaru began.

"congratulations princess kanako kasugazaki!" kaoru finished, earning a loud applause from the guests.

"and for her reward, a kiss on the cheek from the king!" hikaru reminded.

tamaki brought his arms in, placing a hand under his chin in a tick shape. "you ready?" he asked flirtatiously.

"haruhi fujioka will stand in for tamaki!" kaoru said, shocking both haruhi and tamaki.

"kyoya did say that a little accident towards the end of the night might make the evening more thrilling for everyone," the twins added in unison as tamaki looked between them relentlessly.

"there's no way i can kiss her," haruhi grumbled.

"if you do it, we'll cut your debt by one third," kyoya bribed.

"well it is just a peck on the cheek..."

as haruhi descended the stairs, honey brought up an odd thought. "hey, you don't think this is haru-chan's first kiss, do you?"

"what?" tamaki asked breathlessly. as haruhi gently cupped kasuga's face, tamaki came charging towards them. "wait, haruhi!" but in classic hitachiin twin fashion, a banana peel had been left on the stairway for tamaki to slip on, accidentally pushing haruhi and kasuga into a proper kiss, shocking suzushima and the two girls, who quickly jumped away from each other and ignored tamaki, who lay flat on the floor.

the squeals of girls deafened everyone's ears, but you were soon distracted by that as honey jumped onto mori, opting to sit on his shoulders again. you glanced at them innocently as they smiled down at you and mori's hand came to rest on your shoulder as you onlooked the scene below.

[tame-the-lion-writes]

and it's you -- it's you -- again

A little something I made about 2.5 years ago in a creative writing class and now I know I'll never peak again wHOOPs

“We’ve been here before, haven’t we?”

“A million times over – and I beg you, no more.”

The first time they met, their footsteps faded in the sand by the ocean – by the edges of a then-world in the garden his father had built for them. Where she was wild and free, and new and different. And she scaled the great heights of every tree. There, she dipped her fingers in starlight, painted the world with gold and crimson, and together, they shared each and every night beneath a shining sky. It was perfect back then, and they were young, and naive. And they thought that hiding love would be enough to preserve it. Because then, their love was against the rules, because she was meant for another, and he was never meant for happy endings. And because she was meant for another, and because there were no happy endings, the fire that painted his world gold and crimson became the very fire that destroyed it. And her replacement, he tempted in anger, with envy, with a fruit – and with the intent that his father would realize a perfect universe was lost without her. Perhaps, to an extent, it worked – if not in the most mocking of ways. For they met a second time, a third, a fourth, fifth– 

And now– 

He sits alone.

In the corner of a downtown diner.

Coffee set nearby and scribbling idly in the yellow pages of a blood-and-tea-stained journal.

For the most part, it’s quiet. At least in the corner, it’s quiet. Nobody bothers him, not when they’re distracted with the colored TV blaring on in the background. It’s crackled now and again by static – red, green, and blue clustered in corners – while the radio in the back has been silenced, gathering cobwebs in spite of itself. And on the channel, the announcer goes–

TONIGHT – breaking news – on political relations with the east. Tonight, on the locust swarm threatening America’s food supply. Tonight, we discuss the new variant of the black plague. And tonight, we talk about the mysterious disease threatening cattle. And– tonight–

He ignores it, too busy with his own mind.

His ignorance, his busy-ness, is the reason there were girls here and there – just temporary flings to fill in the void. Not that he hurt them and tossed them aside – he waited, as he did with her, until their wicks burned out, and he was alone once more. In his boredom, and aside from them, he watched the world go round – go on without him. And as it went on, soldiers left their homes – twice, thrice, a hundred – a thousand times over while claiming peace and the intent to end all wars. He was blamed for it all, unsurprisingly, while he sat still – a mere yet ultimate arbitrator who, like men claim to be, simply encouraged humanity to decide its ending. For, as he’d learned throughout the years, only endings bring about true peace.

And the way humanity was going, now was the perfect time for such an ending.

– but it’s you – yes, it’s you – and it’s you – it’s you – again.

“Sir, are you alright?”

“Yeah, lost in thought. Been distracted lately. Sorry.”

The red-haired woman across the counter tilts her head aside in worry, brow furrowed together, and faint wrinkles knit tightly – yet she sends him a sympathetic smile as if he were a puppy, thrown out on the side of the road, left to wander, to roam. But she didn’t linger on the topic.

“Just checking in – diner closes at ten.”

She wipes the counter free of crumbs, and from the motion, he sees she’s not wearing a ring – but it’s the umpteenth time around, and maybe he’s early, and she won’t accept one from him – and if she did, it wouldn’t last. It would be a desire half filled.

 “You’ve been here for a while, too, so sorry if it’s a touchy topic, but I know there’s a lot of bars around. Need me to call someone to pick you up?”

At that, he shakes his head, a half amused chuckle leaving his throat.

“No, no. I know it’s late, but I’m not drunk or crazy – really. I’m just… thinking. Promise. Can’t get drunk easy anyway.”

“And the crazy part?”

“Well– regarding crazy – actually, I dunno yet.”

Now her smile is equally amused as he is, and she leans her forearms across the counter. “Is that what the notebook’s for, then? To write down crazy thoughts?”

“Something like that, yeah. At least, I used to write – not so much anymore. Apparently it’s better to talk to yourself through writing instead of saying it aloud. If I did the latter, then people would really think I’m crazy, and they wouldn’t be far off the mark.”

“The real question isn’t if you’re crazy – it’s if you’re dangerous. Are you?”

“About that… maybe.”

She nods but doesn’t believe the possibility. No – she looks mildly skeptical, if not somehow confused, and for once, that skepticism is a step back from the forward momentum of evolution. From the wild and free to responsible and tight-laced – it’s difficult to think she’s here again. She’s her again. She’s her.

“Well, if you need anything, I’ll be here – just gimme a call. I know I said the diner closes at ten, but closing shift ends at eleven. So– maybe–” she says, imitating his vague answer– “I’ll let you stay a few more minutes.”

She tops up his cold coffee with fresh bittersweet brew – not even asking if he wants more – only to freeze and face the screen – where the TV – tonight – is interrupted by a call.

TONIGHT – breaking news – we are receiving reports that we are under attack.

And there’s babies crying, children crying. Adults and seniors, too. And above the crying, screaming, wails, and whispered prayers that fall on deaf ears. There’s people rushing to the train station, and the waitress turns, hurries – out the door. But she’s not going for herself – she’s going for all of them, and she’s helping them down the steps, she’s helping them follow the light–

– and he stares. What was that song again?

… I don’t want to set the world on fire.

It’s only by her example that he follows suit.

Soon he’s guiding an old woman and her husband down to the next door subway. They thank him while he’s lifting their weight, but really, he’s lifting his weight – because he never wanted their endings, he only wanted his own. So he doesn’t join her – or them –  he doesn’t join them there. He returns to the diner, to the counter, sits and stirs his coffee, and in the back of his mind, the song continues – a melody from a far off place. Speaking of intentions once pure, regretful. Then corrupted, pure no more.

I just want to start a flame in your heart.

The people were half the noise, the TV and siren otherwise. But even with the TV still on, even with a siren’s grand alarm, he feels no different now. No different in his solitude. Though perhaps, that in itself is a lie, for he feels a little sadder at heart. There’s even a little discomfort, too, something gnawing and bubbling like an iceberg shoved underwater. It’s a volcanic eruption waiting to burst – something familiar and unfamiliar, something lost and once again new– or maybe was always there –

And he doesn’t quite know why.

The diner will remain dingy as ever – the floors just barely swept. There’ll be dust bunnies beneath each tabletop, and oily handprints leftover on windowsills. And the ground beneath it is even older – hundreds of feet down, the same ground since creation.  And in the odd quiet, he slides back his sleeve to watch a mechanical device go tick tick tick.

Oh–

“I don’t wanna set the world on fire, honey,” he recites to himself. “I love you too much.”

I just – 

“Mister?”

– wanna start –

“Hey, mister?”

– a great big flame –

“C’mon, we needa get to–”

– down in your heart –

– “the shelter.”

“It’s fine. Leave me be.” He sips his coffee again. “I know what it’s like, thinking the world will end. You always think it will, but it won’t.”

“What kind of death wish– god– is that why you came back?” She scrunches her nose, tugging at his sleeve, hair in disarray. “Look, mister. I-I don’t know you, and– and you don’t know me. But I’m not letting you sit out here while the world falls apart. If you’re gonna die, at least die trying, instead of waiting for some bomb to drop on you.”

“Trust me. I’m telling you. I’m not going to die.”

She grabs his hand, ignores his words – he clasps hers – then remembers himself – and ultimately lets go. He tells her again–

“I’m not going to die. But Lilith, you– you have died. A million times over. And I’ve watched every single time. And as much as it pains me, you always come back, and as much as I love you, it’s nothing but torture. So please. Please. Leave me be. You go – live a little longer this time around. Choose something other than him – him or me.”

He looks up and sees tears streaming down her face, and suddenly – no, as always – she’s as beautiful as the first time they met. The first time, yes, and every moment from then onwards. Yes, she’s as beautiful as the sunset, as beautiful as the sunrise, and in that moment, the way he used to look at the night sky is the way he looks at her now. Like he knows he’ll have to let go again – that the light he sees is a projection, the remaining shadow of a living dying star, the remaining evidence it ever existed. And that – like the night sky where she dipped her hands in the starlight – the power of endless suns would annihilate the darkness.

And she spoke– again–

“Lucifer, please.”

Oh. Oh. Oh– it’s been so long– since he remembered his own name, because until then, all he could think about was–

You.

Because it’s–

You – and it’s you – yes, it's you – it’s you – again.

“We’ve been here before, haven’t we?”

“A million times over – and I beg you, no more.”

And on the channel, the announcer goes–

– For those in the city, follow the flashing lights and direct yourself to the nearest shelter. If you are in an isolated area, avoid – I repeat, avoid – populated areas. We believe attacks will be concentrated in the following cities: Washington DC. NYC. San Francisco, LA –

The list goes on and on, but he’s quick to turn off the TV, and he lets her pull him up, arms wrapped tight around a trembling body. And it’s him that’s trembling, though they’re both undeniably afraid.

“It’s cruel, isn’t it?” she whispered. “That I only remember now?”

“Fitting when it’s all my fault. I’m the one who led you astray. I’m the one who ended the world, because I wanted– I wanted– I’m sorry–”

“No, you – you gave me a choice. I was created for someone else, but you – yes, it's you – that I chose. And again – Lucifer – it’s you I’ll always choose. I know you want the world to end, that you want all of this to end, but if I could, I’d remember you – I’d love you – again. A million times over, and a million times more.”

And he understands. He knows – he realizes why the rules have changed. The old woman, her husband – yes, he never wanted their endings. Though in that moment, he doesn’t respond. No – forgetting all else but his love, he turns on the radio, embraces her in return. Rests his chin in those crimson gold locks, humming softly as the world turns. And they dance  – together. For the first time – they fly, they soar. For the first time, they share a second – a breath since the beginning of the world. 

And like the missiles, the journal burns, the radio – sings:

I’ve lost all ambition for worldly acclaim. I just want to be the one you love. And with your admission that you feel the same, I’ll have reached the goal I’m dreaming of. Believe me– I don’t want to set the world on fire. I just want to start a flame in your heart.

[idolatrybarbie]

pairing: marcus pike x alex dozie (fem!OC)

word count & rating: 1.9k | mature

summary: meet marcus. err, i mean—congressman pike.

tags: angst, takes place in 2024, background american politics, lovers to exes to uh?, angst, heavy petting but no smut, previous relationship, alex ice bitch moments (but it's justified and i will fight to the death for her).

tags & notes: @atinylittlepain @amanitacowboy | this is a scheduled post - I'm still away. Please enjoy this pithy little bitch in my absence.

Rain. It’s been raining in D.C. for the past eight days with no end in sight. Homes flooded, whole blocks evacuated as basements fill with rainwater all around the city. The leading story of this twenty-four hour news cycle is if a bulging spot in the White House’s East Wing ceiling will break and flood the office of the First Lady.

The town car, sleek with water droplets, pulls up to the cubic brick building. When the vehicle halts next to the sidewalk, Marcus nods at his driver.

“Thanks, Hal,” he says.

“Would you like me to pull around back, sir?”

“No need. Take the rest of the day off.”

“Sir?”

“I’ll be a while,” Marcus says. “Don’t worry about it.”

He gets out of the car without another word. Oxfords don’t take too well to the rain. He makes his way through puddles gathered on the granite and marble walkway quickly. The guard at the door nods at him, shoulders dry beneath the building’s overhang when he opens the door for Marcus. Sorry, Congressman Pike.

Inside, the walls are mostly wood paneled. Stuffy and dated. Glancing around the place through her eyes as he makes his way, he knows that must be all she can see.

She’d want glass, Marcus thinks. Windows, disregarding the safety concerns.

She would say something like, “This is an office for the people. Why is it hidden from them?”

That’s what Marcus loves about her.

When he reaches the office he’s searching for, he stops at the receptionist’s desk. The man sat behind it is undeniably pretty, teeth perfectly white in the polite smile he flashes. 

He asks, “Here to see Ms. Dozie, sir?”

Marcus nods, giving him a yes.

“You must be Congressman Pike.” He holds out his hand. Not shocking the kid knows him generally—he is a public figure—but surprising that he knows him and works for her.

Maybe she talks about me.

“Marcus is fine,” Marcus tells the man, shaking it.

“Cameron Temple,” he returns. “She’s through the second door that way.”

Marcus heads in the direction that Cameron points him to, squaring his shoulders when the first door closes behind him. He doesn’t have to knock on the second, wide open already. Alex sits behind a desk—grand and sturdy, dark European oak. She’s pouring over documents with a pen, scribbling in different places every few seconds. Silently, Marcus walks to the doorway and leans against the jamb.

She looks different. An image refined. Marcus observes the simple blazer draped over the back of her chair, the loose neckline of her blouse. She’s grown into herself since leaving the campaign. Since leaving him.

“Your hair’s different,” Marcus finally says.

Eyes still on the page she’s annotating, Alex says, “We’re going to ignore that that’s the first thing you’ve decided to say to a Black woman and pretend you just said hi.”

When she looks up at him, dark braids frame the sides of her face. Marcus remembers her straight bangs, or the flowing pin curls she wore to his swearing in ceremony. A different life. A different woman. And yet they’re both Alex Dozie all the same.

“Alex,” he says, stepping over the threshold of her office.

“Marcus,” she returns. Then she corrects herself. “Congressman. What brings you to the Capitol?”

Is it too straightforward to tell her that it’s her? Well, maybe not entirely. He’s been appointed to a congressional committee. His introductory hearing is tomorrow. But Marcus came here first. That has to count for something.

“Here for the energy and commerce meeting. Thought I’d stop by,” Marcus says.

“Well thanks for saying hi,” Alex says.

“Alex…”

“What?”

Glancing back at the door, Marcus pushes at it. They both watch as it closes. Clicking shut, he says, “It’s good to see you.”

“Sure it is,” Alex says. “What do you want Marcus?”

“To talk to you. Catch up. You never called.”

“I left.”

“I’m aware,” Marcus says. “You just—you disappeared.”

“I didn’t disappear. You won the election and I found a new job,” Alex says.

“Before resigning your old one.”

“I gave you my letter.”

“Through an aide,” Marcus counters. “You told some twenty-something intern to leave it on my desk.”

“And you knowing that means you got it. Good, great. Glad we could clear that up.”

“Why are you being like this?”

“Being like what, Marcus?” Alex asks. “You won. You are one of the one hundred and eighteen people to ever represent the state of Vermont in the United States House of Congress. You got what you wanted. Somewhere along the way, I played a small part to make that happen. What else do you want from me?”

Alex had been his press secretary, quick-thinking with undeniable charm hiding behind that Howard law degree. She was more than that, though. Lonely evenings at the campaign office turned into late night drinks with a new friend, and then something more. Marcus was in love; stupidly, wildly. He had hoped that she was too. And then she left, and there was no hope left for him to wonder. 

“I need to know why,” he says. “Why you left.”

Alex takes in a breath, brows raising as her nose scrunches. Marcus has seen her do that a million times, making that face whenever a reporter threw her a particularly stupid question. They aren’t a team anymore. He’s on the outside looking in. Marcus has been reduced to the level of everyone else.

“It doesn’t matter why I left. You didn’t need me anymore,” Alex says.

“That’s not true. You know that's not true,” Marcus says. “We could have found you a job somewhere. You could’ve kept your old one!”

“Maybe I just got tired. The sneaking around, sex in dark corners. Hiding in the backseat of your car when someone parked theirs in the garage. What is that? What was that supposed to mean for me?”

“You’re telling me that you couldn’t see into our future?” Marcus asks.

“What future? The one where I’m your smart, but not too smart, pretty-for-a-Black-girl trophy wife? You’re lauded in the press for marrying a woman of colour and I get to sit outside the door while the big boys plot your path to the Governor’s mansion. Is that it? Do you think that’s what I want, Marcus?”

“I thought you wanted me. Us,” he says. Marcus’ eyes are soft circles now, sorrow plain on his face. A wounded animal waiting for the killing blow.

“Things don’t work like that,” Alex says, eyes glued to the floor. She’s trying to keep the tears at bay, pursing her lips hard in the way Marcus remembers. She hates crying in front of other people. Said it feels like dying inside. “It doesn’t matter what I wanted. I have to work twice as hard—”

“For half of what I have,” Marcus says. “I know.”

“Then why are you here?” Alex asks again, barely a whisper.

“Does it matter that I loved you? That I always did?” he asks.

Eyes watering, she fixes her gaze to the ceiling. Anywhere but on him. “Please stop.”

Marcus takes three steps closer to her. The closest he’s been in fourteen months, not that he’s keeping count. “Alex—”

“Please.”

A tear slips and falls, rolling down her cheek. Marcus wipes it away on instinct, thumb grazing her skin. It takes a moment for her to flinch away from his touch, walking back around the desk to put space between them. He doesn’t follow, respecting the physical boundary.

“I’m sorry to ambush you here. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Phone call. Letter, hell, telegram?” Alex options. “It’s been a year. You should have moved on.”

“Have you?”

The question is loaded; a pistol full of bullets that he’s openly handing her. Alex looks at it, weighing her options. Her answer really just might kill him.

“No,” she says quietly. “Everything has been so busy and…” Alex starts talking, reorganizing a stack of files at the corner of her desk. She doesn’t seem to notice Marcus rounding the corner of it and walking over to her side until she turns and he’s right there in front of her.

They’ve been in this exact position before. She’s swapped the pencil skirts for dress pants and the suits he can afford to wear these days are much nicer. This close, her breath icy against his lips from the gum she chews to focus, Marcus can sense that nothing has truly changed. Everything else is mere set dressing. Whatever is between them is still what it says on the tin.

“I’d like to kiss you,” Marcus says. He falters a half-step, giving Alex the chance to slip away. An out.

All she does is nod, says, “Okay.”

The kiss is hard. Teeth and spit clash and mix as Marcus gently sits her down at the very edge of her desk. The thought of her desk does something to him, cock stirring in his expensive pants. Assistant District Attorney in the office of the nation’s capital. A powerful woman, Alex is finally getting what she deserves. He kind of likes the idea of her telling him what to do, too.

She breaks up the kiss with a gentle hand to his chest. “We can’t do this here.”

Marcus takes a moment to scold his disappointment, keeping his face neutral. “Right,” he blinks. “Right, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Alex says. He sees a flash of the woman he used to know when she speaks. “I just—it’s my office. Cameron’s right outside.”

Slowly, Marcus backs away from her. Alex rearranges her top, putting it back in place. She looks gorgeous. More comfortable in her own skin than Marcus has ever seen her. The shyness she’d shown everyone when they first met is what drew him to her, but discovering the bold woman behind the meek facade is what had him tripping over himself.

“Your secretary is kind of hot,” Marcus says, trying to slice through any tension.

Alex lets out a big laugh, face splitting into a smile as she sucks in a harsh breath. “He’s the receptionist,” she says. “He’s a good kid. Does his job, makes sure I don’t look like an idiot in court.”

“You could never look like an idiot,” Marcus says.

“You need to stop that,” but there’s no force in her tone. Alex’s words are playful, the finger pointing at him more teasing than accusatory.

Something kicks in—an instinct or a sudden thought. The smile falls from her face, hands at her sides as Alex clears her throat. It’s like her brain has enacted the disciplinary protocols to shut down any experience of joy. Marcus watches it all play out on her face in an instant.

He beats her to the punch. “I should go.”

“You should,” she agrees.

“It was…good to see you, Alex,” Marcus says.

“Likewise, Congressman Pike.”

The wall is up again. That glimpse of the woman he knew was only that.

She’s right. Things have changed. Alex has changed. It’s been a year. Marcus should have moved on.

Without another word, he opens the door and leaves. Cameron is on the phone when he passes by, walking quickly through the building. A race into the rain. Surprisingly, the car Marcus arrived in is still parked at the curb when he gets outside. With the harsh beat in his chest, Marcus can’t find it in him to get even a little bit annoyed that he wasn’t listened to.

He pulls the back passenger door open himself, shielding his face from the rain with the sleeve of his suit jacket.

“You’re still here,” Marcus says.

“I figured you would still need a ride, sir,” Hal tells him. There's a tell in his tone, a knowing that Marcus can't shake.

“Right,” Marcus nods. “Well, thank you. We can go back to the hotel now.”

[randomwriteronline]

@fraymotiif fo yo fren

At first, the twins alternated between following him everywhere like Duckletts that accidentally imprinted on a Seadra and skittishly disappearing behind walls or corners the moment he tried to turn towards them.

Figuring out the steps of the dance they were tentatively leading around him was proving to be a bit of a careful balancing act, one he wasn’t quite used to - at least not to this degree. Marshal had been awfully frightened by him when he’d first met him too, after all, but he was three years old; the boys were fifteen, almost sixteen by now, and yet they still behaved like toddlers interacting with someone they know only vaguely.

Touch was far from a problem, that was certain: as soon as they’d figured out they could lean onto him whenever they wanted they had no trouble holding onto his arms or bumping into him so that he’d ruffle their hair.

The trouble seemed to start from their room.

They were horribly nervous about anything and everything that could have been inside of it - although he knew it couldn’t be much, let alone anything to be embarassed or secretive about, since most of their belongings he’d already seen when they’d emptied their backpacks and they’d really been barely more than the bare necessities.

Drayden knew better than to snoop around in a Dragon’s den uninvited, so he would let them sit there for hours on their own, doing who knew what.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t curious. But he couldn’t really just ask them.

He’d tried!

The answer had been a couple uncoordinated shrugs and a quick ‘nothing’ meant to distance him.

In the end, he supposed the only way to find that out would have been for them to decide to make him participant to whatever they did back in there and simply tell him upfront by themselves.

“You can’t!”

“Why not? What’s so wrong about it?”

“You can’t! You can’t!”

Or for them to argue loud enough, that too.

“If you just repeat that I can’t understand what the wrong part is!” this was Ingo.

“You can’t!” and this was Emmet. “It messes it up! Messes everything up!”

“What does it mess up?”

“Eelektrik!”

Ah - that explained why he was so upset; he loved that levitating lamprey almost as much as his brother, or trains. He adored parading it over his shoulders like a sentient scarf, and once or twice Drayden had even seen him fearlessly hold that terrible mouth close to his face as he slept, without a single worry.

“Oh, well, of course it messes him up. That’s the point.”

“You can’t do that!”

It seemed weird that Ingo would want to hurt his younger twin’s ace, though.

Unless it was a matter of battling, in which case he would have definitely run that poor thing over without hesitation or second thoughts.

“Yes I can!”

“You can’t! You can’t!”

“Yes I can! It’s a strategy like any other!”

“It’s not! It’s not! This one it’s not!”

“You just say that because it's really powerful and it neutralizes your favorite!”

“Yes!”

Drayden’s citrine eyes fell through the crack of the slightly opened door: he caught a glimpse of the heavily scribbled page of a notebook, red and green ink all over the paper, upon a stark white black-lined background between folded legs that were clearly getting more and more agitated as the squabble went on.

“Something the matter, boys?” he asked as he knocked gently.

The door slid open a little bit at that. He barely had the time to peek through that the notebook was gone, spirited away with a slight of hand that maybe wasn’t particularly graceful but certainly honed by practice.

Both twins, sitting half hunched and crosslegged on the beds they’d pushed together as they often did, turned to him with near matching innocent expressions, honestly surprised by his appearance but feigning ignorance. They raised their chins at him in tandem in a silent candid question.

“Thought I’d heard you arguing,” Drayden explained.

Emmet shrugged - a fluid motion that shook his arms outwards.

“We were just reading,” Ingo replied, straining his voice into sounding calm as he patted a large book of their on the history of trains in Sinnoh.

Hm. They probably used that as a desk.

The man shook his head lightly, playing a little into their pantomime: “Then I must be getting old and hearing things. You sounded like you were discussing battle strategies,” and before they could startle he changed his tone to reassure them of whatever they were worried about: “If that were the case, I would have been happy to help you figure them out.”

He looked at the twins a little longer, waiting as it dawned on them that he was, indeed, a Gym Leader, and asking him for help on the topic would have, indeed, made sense, while hiding it away from him very much did not.

They retreated a little sheepish into their own shoulders.

Finally the eldest shyly pulled out the battered notebook from beneath himself and presented it to their uncle, who carefully entered their domain to take a seat by them in the way one tiptoes their uninvited way through the den of a very disgruntled mothering Hydreigon.

“We were, uhm... We were planning our teams,” the boy showed him, pointing at his narrow red calligraphy and his twin’s blockier green handwriting.

Two mirrored columns divided in six rows were compiled with a few Pokémon names, other spaces instead left blank; two more had a label above them which read ‘type’, followed by another couple labeled as ‘ability’, then another pair bearing the sign of ‘item’, and finally much larger two meant to house the party member’s moveset. It was an incredibly meticulous job, Drayden noted with his fair share of marvel.

“You’re real thorough,” he nodded thoughtfully.

Emmet smiled, very much proud of their work; Ingo cleared his throat, adjusting his seat a little to try and not let his fluster show: “And we - and we got to, to this point here - see? This slot here. I was - I thought, I wanted to get - uhm...”

“Earthquake,” Drayden read aloud: “A powerful move.”

Embarassed by his stuttering, Ingo just nodded.

“Paired with... Mold Breaker? For an ability?” his uncle continued with an encouraging tone: “That’s a very good combination.”

“He can’t use it,” Emmet instantly butted in, very piqued.

His brother snapped out of his mortification to glare daggers at him: “Yes I can,” he rebutted.

“No!” and he threw a pen at the elder.

Drayden caught it inn midair without thinking, handing it back over to Emmet: “And why can’t he?”

“Because he can’t!”

“He’s just mad that it would put Eelektrik on the ground to get quaked.”

"Eelektrik has no weaknesses! I want him to keep having no weaknesses!”

“An opponent with Gastro Acid could do the same thing,” their uncle noted.

“But they’d waste a turn!” the younger whined: “Maybe they wouldn’t have Ground moves. Or Eelektrik could paralyze them. Or K.O. them. Mold Breaker is instant! It’s not fair.”

“It’s plenty fair!” Ingo argued.

“It’s cheap!”

“No it’s not, it’s a good strategy!”

“Cheap!”

“Boys.”

They both immediately fell quiet.

He ruffled their hair to reassure them he was not mad at them; they leaned against his palms.

“There’s surely plenty of ways to counter that, or at least minimize the damage,” Drayden said, watching Emmet pout and huff as he validated the fairness of Ingo’s plan. “I should have a Fraxure around your partners’ level who’s just the gal for this. We can try out some counters with her right now, how’s that sound?”

“Oh!” the eldest startled a little. He searched for his brother’s matching surprised eyes: “Right - right now?”

“I mean, if you have time.”

“No, it’s--”

“We need to plan,” the youngest explained.

Their uncle furrowed his brows, puzzled: “Plan what?”

“Counters!”

“We can’t battle if we - if we don’t figure out how to do something first.”

“We need to plan.”

“Otherwise we’ll end up failing and losing, and we’d have to start over again.”

“Yup.”

“It’s to save time.”

“Yup.”

Save time... Save time...

Drayden tilted his head: “Save time for what?”

“For battling.” Emmet repeated.

Ingo twisted the pen in his hand: “We don’t get many occasions.”

Well... As open-minded as he might have been, that sounded a little silly.

It really wasn’t the hardest thing in the world, trying to find someone to train with. There were plenty of over-enthusiastic juvenile trainers running about cities and routes, anxious for any chance at a good battle against anybody who happened to meet their impatient eyes - as a matter of fact, he was fairly certain that if they’d taken a stroll down the park instead of staying cooped up in their room it wouldn’t have taken long at all for them to find an opponent each. Hell, if they spent just thirty minutes there they would probably get their schedules all filled out with battledates from other eager kids.

Were they scared of something? Or were they just particularly sore losers? The younger might have, with how fussy about Eelektrik he was. He could understand not wanting to see a favorite defeated, but acting like that wasn’t going to do him any favours if he was looking to become a gym leader.

Why would he want to be a gym leader. He never mentioned anything about wanting to be a gym leader. Why did he think that. This wasn’t the time to think about successors. Stop that. Bad Drayden. Bad.

“So you two haven’t found a moment to practice at all till now?” he asked.

The twins held his gaze for a moment as their heads timidly retreated into their shoulders like those of Tirtougas before their eyes fell on the bedsheets.

It took him another moment for it to click.

Ah.

His sister had always been fairly irritable when it came to battling, after all.

Of course she’d dictate whether or not they’d be allowed to best her.

Or even at least try to.

And he didn’t really know what that hack of her husband was like, but certainly he wasn’t a shining example of fairness either.

He clapped his wide hands gently, quietly, just to get the boys’ attention back on himself: “Well,” he commented in a jovial tone, “I reckon you should have all the time you might need to do what you want nowadays, wouldn’t you say?”

He looked at the words being processed in real time on the twins’ faces.

A moment more...

Oh.

Oh! Yes.

Yes, they did.

They could practice, now.

Whenever they wanted. Or almost, at least - there would be times when they wouldn’t, due to force majeure, like homework or meals or sleeping or other things, but - they could practice. They could train.

Whenever they wanted.

“You should get some exercise yourselves too,” Drayden noted, “You’re all skin and bones, poor knuckerlings. But nothing some wrassling and good food can’t fix. I can help with that too, don’t worry.”

“Too?” Ingo repeated. “As- as in you - we can, we could train our Pokémon with you? Too?”

“Wrassle?” echoes instead Emmet. “We wrassle?”

“Yes one and yes two.”

If they’d been a little meatier, they would have tackled him right off the bed and into a possible concussion on the floor with that hug. So on one hand, good; on the other, since he barely even budged, he needed to start scheduling regular sessions for them as soon as possible. With the first one today, hopefully.

He picked them both up effortlessly, their langly legs dangling a few inches from the floor: “So! You wanna try out some of those counters now?”

His ears rung for a hot second from their response.

“And then we wrassle you?” the younger insisted.

“Sweet Dragons, not me! I’d knock you clean out!” their uncle replied, hoisting them up on his shoulders like sacks of flour so he could fetch their notebook and Pokéballs while they dangled up there safe from danger: “Fraxure’s gonna show you the basics!”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” the eldest argued.

“If it were, I don’t think the Lophiris family would’ve survived as long as we did!”

[modern-inheritance]

A little bit of work done today (MIC Legendary WIP)

I want a few scenes to happen in Arya's room in the Legendary animatic because ofc I can't turn a song into a fic, I really try not to do songfics that so blatantly just use the lyrics in the way what I want to do would require (please forgive my word soup-salad combo the headache is starting again) so i decided I needed to just make her room in storyboarder since it has more assets I can use for that and lemme just uh

i mean there was an attempt, i'm not using the description from the books at all

Ignore the sideways shelves, they didn't have a way for me to alter by specific dimensions, just size in general.

I've not got any ideas for over in that empty corner, and yes, that's a rock as a bedside table, because it's Ellesmera, everything is made of living wood and nature. I've said it several times in fics but most of the flooring is some kind of moss if it's not smoothed roots or something like that.

I've got this idea that the panel next to the bed is a mirror, while the one directly across from it is the fairth of Evandar. Could do a little fun thing with that. I also have a note scribbled on backing paper at work that says 'angy galby sketch on wall with lots of darts in it' so Arya's been doing target practice on that. I'll do my best to keep it basic since I know I shouldn't focus on background.

the doorway on the left side is to the balcony-ish area. There's windows but I didn't put them in for this screenshot.

The 'Little Wolf' portions will have to, unfortunately, be done in Magic Poser due to the swords and stuff being a necessity. I still don't know what I'll be doing with any of this really but it was nice to just have something done.

cheers mates!

[scorchedhearth]

26. and/or 𝟯𝟯.

i am incredibly fond of this period in the 90s where guy and john had semi-regular lives with their architect practice and bar and i need more of it

meaningful gestures

“Guy,” John mumbles between two strokes of his pencil. “Stop that.” He adjusts the angle of his ruler, drags the tip across his paper and pulls back to watch the new lines added to the structure on the plan laid before him in the midst of an array of notes and numbers scribbled on stick notes.

“Stop what,” Guy answers, and even with his eyes locked on his drawing, John can hear the shit-eating grin in his voice. The hand he slid under his shirt when he sat down hasn’t stopped, Guy keeps drawing circles on the small of his back and rubbing his thumb across his spine. It’s nice, his hand is big, and warm, covertly working out the few knots John keeps getting from sitting all day long, even if Guy would never admit that he’s doing it. Even the football game he put on the tv would be a nice background noise for John if he wasn’t knees deep in a project that had several deadline changes and three major setbacks since they took the contract.

As it stands, he’s got a meeting by the end of the week and if he doesn’t show up with a proposal the clients will agree to, the contract will be done for, and they’ve involved too many assets, time and money in this to lose it on sheer dumb bad luck. So here is John, taking work home and still going over the change in budget and how to work those in at ten at night. Something he’s hoping to be done with for tomorrow, if only Guy would stop what he’s doing because Guy knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Stop that.” John let the pencil in his hand falls, it lands on the table with a soft thud as he turns around to look at Guy. And Guy is grinning, crooked teeth showing between his twisted lips, his mess of a nose not helping the look at all. He pushes his hand higher, rucking the shirt along with it. The cool air of the spring night hit his back and John shivers with it.

“But you like it, don’t ya?” Guy runs two fingers down his spine and John raises an eyebrow.

“I do, yes.” There’s no point in lying, so he doesn’t. “But, as you can see," he gestures to the papers in front of him. "I’m busy. So stop it.”

“Ya don’t wanna me to.” His hand slides further to the side, closer to his hip, using his first two fingers to draw circles. “I know that in that head of yours, there’s a voice goin’ ‘Oh God, please Guy don’t stop’.” Guy pitches his voice higher and lighter for that last sentence, and John simply has to roll his eyes again.

“Don’t you have a bar to run?” He picks up his pencil and crosses a line off one of the sticky notes. “Why are you here, so bent on keeping me from work.”

“Because keeping ya from work is my job,” Guy shrug with pretend nonchalance. “And the crew is taking care of it tonight, since I busted my leg they kicked me out.” He loses the smile and throws a nasty glare at his bandaged-up knee for a moment before turning back to John. “I thought I could find a hot date to keep me company, sweeten the wound an' all.”

“Well, your hot date is busy.” But John can’t help it, he smiles even as he goes over the same table for the fourth time in the last half hour.

Lest he be deterred by such a thing as a refusal, Guy moves closer, leaning against his shoulder and hooking his chin over it, peering down at the notes. “What are ya even doin’? Don’t ya have people to pull numbers for ya? You’re too smart to be countin’ pennies.” His hand hasn’t stopped, if anything he’s putting more gusto in it, kneading the tender muscles with his knuckles, warmth spreading from his palm like embers.

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere.” John tries to be assured in his tone but Guy has just taken interest in his neck and is now peppering kisses from his ear to his collar, which is harder to ignore.

“Won’t it?” He grins into his neck, nips the skin under his jaw. And this is nice, it’s really nice. It’s been a while since they’ve been able to see each other, and it’s late too, John’s been working since this morning and Guy is good, really good at getting his way. And for once John isn’t too opposed to letting him get it.

John hums, and closes his eyes. Just five minutes, he tells himself, even when he doesn’t believe it himself. He’ll just wake up earlier tomorrow to finish this, it'll be fine. “Should I complain or thank you for distracting me from my work?” he asks with one raised eyebrow directed at Guy, who is looking incredibly smug for someone who was kicked out of his own bar.

“I think ya should kiss me for savin’ ya from this horrible, horrible evening ya were plannin’ for yourself.” Guy leans closer, close enough to brush his nose against his cheek, and John cracks, he let a smile play on his lips.

“Should I,” he murmurs, even as he closes the distance between them.

[kiwiana-writes]

3, 8, and 18 for the meta writer asks! And I hope the rest of your day goes better than the too-early morning. 💕

[Fun meta asks for writers]

Ugh, sadly it did not. Zooms that could have been emails, and all of that. ❤️

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

Ooooh this is an interesting question because I write so much short slice of life stuff that I do often just throw that stuff out there as little, like, mini ficlets! I have been sitting on a great joke my spouse made while watching the film where I was like "god I need to write that into a fic" but I just recently figured out what I was doing with that one, so now it's in the WIPs.

8. Is what you like to write the same as what you like to read?

Yes, but there's also stuff I like to read that I don't like to write (looking at you, anything that requires serious world-building.)

18. Do any of your stories have alternative versions? (plotlines that you abandoned, AUs of your own work, different characterisations?) Tell us about them.

At some point after it's finished publishing we should talk about the outline @ships-to-sail wrote for the Actor AU, because it was really good and when I decided the structure of the fic needed to match Much Ado About Nothing I ended up gutting a ton of it. Luckily she loves me (allegedly)

But for now let's talk about something totally unrelated: the Schitt's Creek 50 First Dates AU and the plotline I lowkey accidentally abandoned (that shit had no outline and no plan other than, like, the film and the show) and always meant to come back to in one of the alternate POV one-shots but never quite got around to. Totally set it up and then ditched it, whoops. But basically, Ronnie was part of the volunteer rescue team that found David and Alexis after the car accident, so she was WILDLY protective of David and deeply fucking suspicious of Patrick.

I went and looked because I was sure I'd scribbled a bit of this down and I'd actually written like 500 words of Alexis' POV! So have those below the cut:

Alexis’ head hurts.

That, in and of itself, isn’t weird. Between hangovers and jet lag and being knocked on the back of the head while being kidnapped — a totally amateur move, and a sign that her kidnappers really weren’t investing properly in their henchmen — she’s more than used to waking up with a throbbing pain in her temple. What is weird is that those days are behind her. No more taking the jet to Europe because she’s bored, no more trips to the embassy to pick up a new passport and a disguise so she can get across the border. So she doesn’t know—

“Alexis?”

The voice is vaguely familiar, but she doesn’t want to open her eyes yet, sure that when she does the full ache is going to turn into something much more immediately uncomfortable. 

There’s a sharp rapping sound, far too close to her ear, and she winces. 

“Shit, I think she’s waking up. Alexis? Come on, open those eyes for me. You can do it.”

In the distant background, she can hear sirens, and her eyes fly open in shock. 

“There you are, princess.” Despite the usual sarcastic drawl, when Alexis turns to face the window, Ronnie’s expression is full of concern. “Ambulance is nearly here. Think if we get this door open, you’re up for getting out, or do you want to wait for them?”

“David.” It’s all coming back now — the trip to Elmdale, fighting over the music, the cow. “Where’s David?” She turns to the passenger seat, ignoring the way it makes her ears ring, ignoring the pain radiating up her left arm. Her brother is slumped motionless in his seat, the window on his side of the car shattered and half the door crumpled in. There’s a huge gash across his forehead and wildly, irrationally, Alexis’ first thought is: He’s going to be so mad he can’t do his skincare routine. 

“Alexis, listen to me.” She doesn’t realise until Ronnie’s voice cuts through the fog that she’s sobbing his name, and she sucks in a shuddering breath. “We don’t wanna move him until the ambulance gets here, in case he’s injured his neck or his spine. What about you? What hurts?”

“Um.” She closes her eyes, trying to concentrate on anything other than the panic clawing its way up her throat. David is so still. “Just my wrist, I think. And a headache.”

“I think you might have whacked it on the steering wheel.” Ronnie’s eyes flick up to her forehead for a moment. “You’ve got a bit of a shiner, but I think we’re okay to get you out.”

It takes Ronnie and a man she doesn’t recognise — Elm County volunteer firefighters, they tell her cheerfully — to get the driver side door of the Lincoln open. By the time Alexis is standing on the side of the road, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and her now throbbing wrist tucked carefully against her body, she can see the ambulance tearing down the road towards them. 

She won’t let any of them look at her until David is safely out of the car. Ronnie stands next to her the first hole time, her hand on Alexis’ shoulder far more gentle than Alexis could have guessed it would be, while they cut open the car door and strap up his neck before manoeuvring him onto a stretcher.