#yesterday you were defeated but what will you become tomorrow?

[dumbidiotzone]

"Yesterday you were defeated, but what will you become tomorrow?"

i finished haikyuu for the first time and just. wow. it was a journey. im gonna go cry now bye guys

genuinely tho watching all these characters develop change and grow was a fucking journey and i feel so bitter sweet about it ending because they have such a special place in my heart 😭😭😭 like i cant even joke about this im CRYING SOBBING DOWN ON MY KNEES THEY ARE SO PRECIOUS TO ME

ive been a really big hinata fan since day one, and seeing him from a boy whos just good at jumping and have athletic skills, being known as just a shrimp, a boy whos from the concretes, a person who wouldnt be ANYTHING if it wasnt for his setter, to a person whos capable, who has unlocked that potential he has for himself, who climbed the ladder to reach the top and its just EHWREGHUIrzhuhUHWWUYRU to see him mature and grow up to be a strong player makes me so happy because it really shows how hard work and dedication is worth it at the end, that all the pain and suffering you go through gives the best results

and finishing it for the FIRST TIME??? just that ENDING??? it was so good i cant I CANT DO THIS ANYMORE THEY ALL GREW UP SO MUCH UFHGREKJWHJEHJSAWHFKRG THEY GREW UP SO FUCKING MUCH

im a tiny bit disappointed that this series ended but im glad it ended the way it did. its perfect, at least for me <3

thank you furudate for making such a great story with such interesting characters. thank you haikyuu for changing my life i know it sounds a bit parasocial but hinatas journey has a special place in my heart

"He who climbs the ladder, must begin at the bottom"

[littyhoney]

Right Person,Wrong Time. (part 2)

BIG SPOILER WARNING TO ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE!!

Earth 42 Miles Morales x Reader

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

Chapter summary: It has been a year and Miles can’t seem to move on from Gwen…how much longer can you take for always be in the dark? But little did you know someone is waiting in the dark for you..

Warning: Spoilers for the movie Across the Spider-verse, long chapter,heavy Angst

p/s: if some of you are confuse if this is Miles 1610 fic or Miles 42 its Miles 42 but the chapters are for build ups for extra pain hehe enjoy! also i try my best to make it gender neutral <3

You walk through the sidewalk making your way to Miles apartment with bluetooth headphones on both of your hand in your pockets of your hoodie to keep you warm from the chilling air, In your ears is blasting a music from the Weeknd-Call out my name.

It has been a year…for that whole year you have been there for Miles again and again and again… and every single time you fail to win Miles over. You been very vague of your feeling towards Miles but the boy seems to be too focus on someone else..Gwen Stacy. You have try to let him know that you’re there! Not her,whenever he is down you’re there to comfort him,not Gwen. Whenever he is in trouble you would cover for him, you become so selfless over him not wanting to see him get hurt..but who will care for you? Protect you? You just don’t know…

You walk over the steps leading up to the Morales front door and knock on it as you pull your headphones off. You hear the door unlock and open for you to see Mrs Morales “Hey mama Rio,is Miles here? He didn’t answer his phone”

“Really? Oh well he is in his room, come in dear its cold outside”The woman smiles as she close the door behind you  as you walk in, clearly you know where miles get such a warm smile from “Thanks Mama Rio”you smile at the woman taking your hoodie off.

“Oh dear I almost forgot that we be making a party up at the rooftop,its uh a celebration for Jeff becoming the next captain”You look at her with a big smile before let out a chuckle, you knew that Jeff is a good cop who always keeping the city safe “Congrats! Wow! Uh il make sure to come by the party, thanks for the invite Mama Rio”you walk towards Miles door “Anytime dear”the woman speaks before focus back to her Tv show.

You knock on the door to Miles room before a muffle come in speaks from inside the room,you open the door and lean on the door frame with a small smirk “Sup coco head”looking at Miles who is sitting at his desk with his headphones on.

Miles yelp when he turn around to see you by the door before he rip his headphones off his head turning towards you “Geez (N/n) I though you were my mom” Miles sigh before he slump back on his seat “Wait why are you here?”he tilt his head looking at you.

You sigh as you drop your head before push yourself up from the door frame walking towards Miles and pull out your phone showing him the miss calls and unread messages "You promise to hang out today at the park,remember? you told me over the phone yesterday for basketball?”you feel slightly annoyed now knowing he keeps forgetting his promises these past months but you still have sympathy over him,since he been over his head lately.

Miles sit up straigh before looking up at you,guilt drawn all over his face “I-Im sorry man I forgot it’s just ‘sigh’ a lot of things have been going on in my head lately”

“oh,what happened? don’t tell me you got in trouble again Miles”you said with a slight frown drawn on your face looking down at him. Miles head snap back to you shaking his head “noo nono”he laugh nervously as he try to convinve you,clearly he is in trouble.

“Miles..”you look at him squinting your eyes at him frow drawn on your eyebrows. Miles sigh defeated before he held his head in his hand on the table “I uhh..okay..the principal wants to see me and my parents tomorrow..”

You look at him in shock before you held your hand on your waist “But I though you aced the exam Miles,are the notes from me and Ganke not enough to cover it??” you ask him,still in disbelief. Since both of you are busy going in and out of the class for emergency moments,both of you mostly rely on notes to pass the exam,you mostly write your own notes but Miles always share Ganke’s notes with you.

Miles shake his head before leaning back on the chair “I don’t know (Y/n) clearly something is up and right now im in..shambles man. Nothing makes sense to me anymore,after wearing that mask everything is just on my shoulder”the boy is clearly burned out by all of his responsibilities..being a son,a student and a hero. He seems to think that everything and everyone relys on him while he can’t rely on anyone…but how wrong is he.

You shake your head slightly,moving near him as you lean on the chair looking down at him “Miles…youre not alone in this,I know that being a hero is such a big responsibility but…im here for you man”your eyes soften “You can rely on me anytime Miles…heck if you want I can do the patrol stuff for a week if you ask me to man” you let out a chuckle,this boy really have a soft spot on you.

Miles shake his head his face still frowning before he says “But you’re not her (Y/N), you’re...not Gwen”he look up at you.

You look at him…blink a few times letting his words sink in to you,you move yourself away from him,walking backwards before a soft chuckle escape your lips “are you for real Miles..? Gwen?”your brows frown mouth agape not believing what you just have heard..

Miles begin to talk again but you quickly cut him off “No man I heh…well she’s not here is she? Im here for you Miles,from the beginning to hear your problems a-and to cover your freaking ass everytime man..”your voice cracked as you try to talk out through the choking “im the one who is taking hits for you,the one who always have to sit there listening you calling for someone who is not here”you hiss out the word at him..tears building up making everything you see is blurry but you blink away the tears as much as you can..

“Youre not the only one who wears the mask Miles,but I put you above myself everytime so that I know you’re okay…but you’re here telling me that you want someone else to stand here….am I not enough for you Miles?”you point to yourself,your heart cracks at every sob that you try to surpress.

“(N/n) I..”Miles stand up trying to reach for your arm but you held out your hand stopping him. You rub your nose with your other hand letting out a sniff before your cracked voice speaks “No..no Miles..im just gonna go…tell your dad I said congrats”you said as you walk out of his room taking your hoodie that you put on the hanger walking out of the main door and close it.… you lean your back on the door as you finally let the tears running down your cheek…

To be continued.

(Woah what a chapter huh,part 3 soon..)

Tags:

@usernamepassowrd-blog @marimo331 @rinouko @chims-kookies

@rinisfruity14 @gasoline-eater @bath1lda @kiranishi @blep24

@dani111

[jolalibrary]

vii. take care of me

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter seven of i like the way you

best friend! friends with benefits! frankie morales summary: what starts off as an offhand remark, quickly becomes a regular, scheduled 'stress relief'. the only problem is, both of you are in denial that you feel anything outside of friendship for the other.

warnings: friends with benefits. fwb! rules. flirting. idiots who are so in love it’s stupid. feelings. smut - p in v. reader has a bad day, soft romantic fucking.

word count: 4.7k

an: the biggest thanks to @thetriumphantpanda who read this before bake off and left me a bunch of comments that made me so excited, you almost had this chapter yesterday.

You had seemed downtrodden before he rocked up and ‘broke a rule’.

His pretence at forgetting all quickly seen through, as though he’s transparent. He had wanted to explain that he had only wanted to cheer you up, but you looked less in the mood for an apology than you did an explanation.

So he swallowed both.

From the middle of the week, he had suspected something was wrong. When he had finally managed to call you, you had sounded so close to tears, that he wondered whether he should drive back sooner.

Especially when you had barely laughed at a joke he made on one of his commutes back to the hotel—barely even answering when he asked it if was his movie choice or yours.

I don’t mind. You always mind. If I remember right, you have a real thing about me always pickin’ the movie, querida. Well, I don’t today, okay? You can pick—I—Frankie, I have to go.

When the end call tone flooded the bed of his truck, he’d strongly suspected that you’d fought your way off the phone with him so you could crumble. Cracking yourself open into a bunch of shards, all pressure-cooked by the weight of everything you take on, only to say you’re fine.

It’s why he had driven past your place the day before he had made plans to see you. Fighting with himself about getting out and going up to your door. Weighing up the options as to whether checking on you tonight or waiting for tomorrow would be best.

Then there was the fact he wasn’t sure if it was as your best friend or as someone who hopes for something more.

The lines blurred, practically erased. A speech is likely needed, but he’s as poor with words as he is with owning how he feels, so it’s easier to stuff them down—to drive away, wait.

It’s why he grabbed it to begin with. Why he’d been grabbing them since you put the darn rule in place anyway. A habit, a part of his routine seeing you—a thing he did to show you that you mattered, were important, cared for.

Which is why he’d wrestled with him again on whether to leave it in the car when he walked up to your front door or not.

“You broke a rule.”

You look glum, defeated. Whatever your working week had done to you, it had stolen more from you than you’d been able to—never mind willing to give.

And it fractured a part of him. Made his shoulders sink, his heart sinks—because nothing hurt him more than the look on your face. The one which should be full of smiles and twinkling eyes.

Kissing your cheek, he closes your front door behind him. “I think you’ll forgive me.”

You just snort. Momentarily smothering the sadness that had been there before he’d showed you the bottle—whatever had upset you buried, all of it being quickly hidden as you placed the wine down and picked up your water bottle.

It forces more confusion to swirl inside of him, more so as you begin to go back and forth with him on food, on what he wants to watch, and whether he wants to share a blanket or have his own.

He replies in his usual tone, even if his attention is split into equal parts—one part focused on the little things you do, the mannerisms you’re not aware to pretend. The other on the IKEA furniture he built, the memories pricking him, needling, making the zipper of his jeans suddenly feel uncomfortable over his cock.

“Work been okay?”

Your mouth falls open, all set to answer, but then something shifts in your eyes. A shadow—possibly—it dancing across the plain, suddenly all but desperate to thump its way out.

Then the words never come. Swallowing instead, discarding whatever you'd been about to say—pushing it back before any lingering parts of it are blinked away as you offer a nod.

“Yeah. Yours?” you answer, but your tone isn’t right.

It’s flat, without its usual infliction. There isn't any edge to your words, nor a tease or taunt, not even a Morales in sight. And, the smile you paint doesn’t quite reach the eyes.

It’s practically humming now, the fact something is wrong. It simmers, hanging around, whistling through the air.

Yet, you don’t break, don’t confess it all to him like you had once done with such ease. Instead, you just smear another smile on your face, nudging him, phone in hand as you mumble about food options and what he wants as you lead him to the sofa.

He knows on the surface, it looks the same—how the night is playing out. But it’s different. In all the ways he doesn’t want to put his finger on, and doesn’t want to acknowledge. Not as you order food, not as you chew the inside of your cheek as you wait for the order to be accepted.

Even less so when you mumble about the film, reaching for your remotes.

It's then he decides what he wants to do is take the remote from your hand as soon as you pick it up. Frankie wants to hold your fingers in his, even place a kiss on your wrist. He wants to place two fingers under your chin, and ask you again to tell him what has happened—wanting to be let him in, be shared with.

He wants you close, and not like friends do. A need to have your head to his chest, his fingers sliding gentle strokes against your cheek and neck, offering comfort, providing it in plenty.

His own head turns the options over, planning it out, trying to guess what the various outcomes are. Which, by the time he reacts, instead of managing to grasp your hand, he knocks the remote from your hand with a clatter.

Ears burning, he feels your glare before he truly appreciates it. It ripples out over him before it’s blinked away—a momentary flood of fire licking at his skin.

In the oddest way, it’s at least reminiscent of the person he knows. The sharpness in your eyes is more a friend to him right now than the gnawing going on in his chest. Especially, while the rest of you is lost to whatever you’re trying to pretend doesn’t exist.

“What?”

It’s simple, one word.

Almost feels normal. It's all sharp and layered, just like it usually is. Followed by your body sinking into the array of cushions you decorate your sofa with as you pull up his pick, rolling your head to him—nail-picking at the battery cover on your remote.

And he wants to ask again—just like he always would have done.

Instead, Frankie places his hand on your knee, thumb and index swirling over the cloth-covered bone as you look at the television briefly, before flicking back to him.

In the silence, it’s louder—the whistling. It's suddenly accompanied by the noticeable noise of your brain whirring, your cogs turning.

“Talk to me,” he whispers, but secretly he's pleading, begging.

He watches as your teeth pick at your lip, snuggling yourself further into the couch—knee abutting his leg as you sigh. “It's... nothing. Can we... can we just watch the movie?”

“Hey, of course we can. Is…”

He can't ask.

Fearful of asking. A lump forms in his throat, sticking, thickening second by second as he flicks his eyes over you.

Before you can blink it away, he spots it again. The shift in your eyes.

This time instead of a shadow, they fill with water. They vanish any part of your truth that wished to escape in its drowning. Before he can poke and push, you blink it away as quickly as it had first arrived.

And it needles him, pricks at his skin and stabs into his chest, twisting and twisting and twisting—

“I just… wanted my best friend,” you mumble.

“That it?”

You seem to fight it, whatever it is inside of you, before you curl against his arm again, tugging your blanket up closer. “I really missed you this week, that's all.”

It’s been on his to-watch list for ages, and yet he’s one hour into it and he has no clue what is happening.

The pizza box is still half-open on the coffee table, your plate still remaining with picked-at food that you never really made any dent in, and he blames that as to why he doesn’t even know who the good guy is and who is bad.

Because all of the parts of his brain that usually begin working on undoing and arranging what he thinks will and is happening, are working in overdrive on you.

It's also stopping his heart from hammering even louder down your ear. Because, even if the two of you have cuddled before—lots of times—it's not been post the whole sleeping together thing.

And, it feels nice having you against him, normal, right.

He likes the way your fingers occasionally clutch him a little closer, head turned in the direction of the television and the movie he should be watching.

Instead, he's piecing together the puzzle you've thrown on the floor. The one without the box lid, so no image to compare it to. Trying to assess where you missing him, lines up with the way your bottom lip almost wobbled as you confessed it, as though it was a sin and not a virtue.

Frankie tries to line it up with the fact he knows whenever he's found a moment to himself, he’s texted you. The sea of other unread messages piling up, collecting.

It adds to the knowledge that all of the normal conversation he has with you, quickly derails, slipping into something foreign yet wonderful. Casual phone calls, divert into him with his hand around his cock, listening to you breathlessly say his name and that you wish he was there.

And that somewhere between collecting the sweet noises you make and those innocent-but-not-innocent moments, are the soft moments he has where you’re resting—where Frankie has realised, decided and accepted, that there is nowhere else he likes being.

Not a single place.

Because he wants this.

Frankie wants the calmer person he is when he's around you, the thoughts which are less intrusive. He likes that the rain barely bothers him when he has you in his arms, that he doesn’t even overthink, if anything he just plans. Considering things, turning them over, thinking of a future that begins to sketch itself out and colour itself in.

Something which has been doing so since the time in the car.

Your words rolling and rolling, stitching themselves to other phrases you’ve let slip, until he’s sewing things together to create a gallery, a museum of moments he loves admiring and replaying when the world goes silent.

That's when he notices the movie, the shit-show of a plan formed involving a helicopter, and the words roll from him without stopping.

"That would never fuckin' happen. Not—can you imagine, if I said to you—" and he rambles. Feels himself doing so. So comfortable and at ease more and more things just flow and fall from his lips.

Even when the scene changes in the movie, more bright light than the softer one from before, forcing him to blink—he is still detailing how inaccurate it is. Only slowing to nothing when he realises you’re looking up at him. Hanging on to every word as though he's a poet reading something beautiful.

He feels the way they tracing him then, lightly glazing over all his features as he slowly holds your stare.

Because it’s the kind of gaze he sees in the movies you make him watch. The lingering ones—a blend of both fiery and craving. It all peppered with yearning, and swirling in so much he suspects you don’t want to say.

“You’re going to miss the movie.”

Blinking, you smile. Feeling you flick your eyes from him to his mouth. “Am I?”

Your smile slides further into your cheek, and he can’t help but brush his thumb over it. A dire need to touch you, brush your soft skin and remind himself how you feel.

He doesn’t expect it, but he likes that you curl into his hand. It allows him to trace his fingers along your jaw, down the side of your neck. Half-expecting you to tell him to stop, that tonight isn’t about that.

You don’t.

Instead, your hand cups his against your cheek, staring at him, lit up by the flickering scenes neither of you are paying attention to.

Faintly, blooming out in the shimmer of your eyes, he thinks he sees it again—what he thinks is adoration. It mixing, blending, swirling with care, love…

“Thought you wanted your best friend?”

“I do,” you say, low, just above a whisper, “So, take care of me.”

A second passes as your words drip into the air.

So take care of me.

His eyes flick over you. Likely needing you to say it again, give permission, tell him you want this.

You do. Fuck you do.

Your heart hammering against your chest like a drum because of it. All unable to speak, fearful, fucking petrified, with how much you want him.

Because all you do is want him, and if you speak, you worry you won’t stop telling him that.

Let it fall, leak. Slip out and stain like oil on a sheet.

Because you know it's only normal to miss him this much for one reason, and one reason alone. It's the same reason why you want him, crave him, and feel so desperate for him that you can’t think or breathe. It is all-encompassing, looming, forever there in between the days you don't see him and the waiting on replies to texts.

It’s so close to your tongue, held back only by your teeth.

It could come out, could escape. So you keep your mouth clamped shut. It is better, easier, and less bothersome than telling him you’ve been counting down the hours, minutes, and seconds until you could have your hands on him. Not for this, not because he makes you feel good and beautiful and wanted, but because you feel better. Happier. More you. You feel safe, like no bad work day could ever touch you.

“Querida…”

“I want y—”

The rest of your words are swallowed, stolen. Frankie seals his mouth over yours, barely needing a sentence, just enough.

And it’s searing, full of ache as his hands pull you close, your body singing, itching to come alive—has been since the scent of just him hit your nose.

The worst of days doesn’t matter when he’s around you, less so when his lips marry to yours, when he licks into your mouth, when he breathes you in, and you breathe him.

No one else has ever made you feel like he does.

Not the way your feet almost kick out when his message arrives, a smile gracing your mouth without control when he calls you.

Because he’s different, but then he always has been.

There's always been something, it thriving and growing, embedding vines you pretend are just because you're good friends. But you know, you do. It's hard not to.

Frankie saves you, oblivious to the silent plea for rescue—he just knows. He gets you. Understands every inch of you now, you're unsure how anyone else can ever read you as well. He's someone you could confidently rely on, knowing he’d never leave you alone, not even in the dark—forever a light, a way home.

You think you’re that for him too. Hope so anyway.

He moans your name. Kissing you like he never wishes to stop. He acts like he wants to drown in you, be overflowed by you, and fuck you want the same.

Mine. That’s what you want to say.

Instead, you bury it in a low moan when his mouth captures yours, tongue sliding past your teeth as his hands come to rest on your cheeks. Each touch softer, gentler—from the way he moves his fingers over your cheek, to the way he slides them over your jaw, landing on your neck.

Then, his mouth comes to your ear, breath dancing, all flooded with the flickering television—let’s go to your bed.

He doesn’t rip, he peels your layers off, leaving a trail leading right to your room. He smothers your body with his, his palm remaining flat to your spine, leading, hooking his fingers around the back of your neck as he steers you.

Careful, hermosa.

The consideration dripping from his lips like syrup, all adorned in affection, a taste you have to capture, spinning in his hold, hooking your arms around his neck as you pull him flush, close.

“Tell me you want me,” he hisses.

There's an edge that isn’t usually there but it’s pounding now, all sparkling and fucking shimmering.

You’re more sure of it when he lies you back on your sheets, his mouth exploring, taking his time, taking you to the edge with his mouth as you plead and plead—one hand sliding up over the softness of your stomach, as your back arches into him.

And you shudder, so close to your high—hips held down by his arm. “I want you, Frankie. Always want you. Want you inside of me.”

He pauses—cool air blowing over you as he flicks his eyes up from between your thighs, his skin flushes, a light beading of sweat at his hairline as he comes up onto his palms.

Watching him crawl up you, eyes enamoured, unable to look anywhere else even if they were commanded to. Because he’s more than a sight for sore eyes, he is the sight. He’s the best-looking thing you’ve ever fucking seen, clutching his face in your hands, feeling him drag the head of his cock through your slick walls, staring at you in waiting, like he couldn’t believe this is happening.

“Again,” he asks.

Taking your hand in his, he slots his fingers between yours, fitting, ever so perfectly, before he places your conjoined hands above your head. Eyes tracing up and down your frame, more so as you arch into him, hearing the breathed-out expletive as you wait for his stare to land.

“I want you.”

And, thankfully, Frankie doesn’t let you linger on it. Doesn’t allow you to hyper-focus on it, slowly sliding in, pushing in by inch until you’re full of just him—no more of him left that you can greedily take.

“Always take me so well, baby—“

“Frankie.”

You’re breathless. The air punched from your lungs—his hand remaining knotted in yours, grounding, your nails digging into his skin as his other hand finds a place on the back of your thigh, eyes dropping, all fixated on where the two of you are joined.

“Y'so good for me. Always so good for me,” he adds when his hips are flush with yours. “Take my cock so well.”

Letting his gaze return to you, you’re suddenly so grateful for the bedside lamp you’d left on hours ago because now you get to see him. Admire him, so much so, it makes your throat dry.

Able to watch his muscles contort when he moves, lips parting as he slowly cants his hips into yours, all deep strokes.

And, you know it’s still fucking, but it’s also not.

It’s a unique blend of need that feels right, and also wrong—lips messily finding yours, burying confessions as you eagerly swallow them.

Hoping your throat, lungs or stomach could begin to decipher them as you feel his hand slide down your wrist, and arm until it's cupping your face. His lips slide over your cheek, resting close to your ear, whispering compliments. Because he has to tell you that you’re gorgeous, he says; that you're always so stunning.

Each word that lands has more than an effect on you, as he stutters when you clench around him.

Mouth wrapped around an exclamation of his name as he slides out and sinks back into you.

Frankie has always felt big, but from this angle, like this—he’s somehow deeper, filling you more. He's in your soul. It all filthy and romantic and obscene, but it feels so good, makes heat bloom through your hips and up into your spine, it twisting, eroding the bad day, the bad week.

In a sense, he’s the perfect antidote. A person you trust, care for, lo—

“You’re perfect, you know that?”

Frankie’s hand slides back to grip yours, pressing it down—lightly against the pillow above you, before placing the other beside it. And he’s enveloped in part shadows and the light from the table, blessed in golden hues, giving just enough to see how wild his eyes are and how deep the brown in them goes, how blown his pupils are.

“Do you know how beautiful you look right now?”

You feel your cheeks warm, your ears—every bit of skin on show suddenly inflamed because of his words. His mouth lapping at your breasts, all arched into him, hips steadily meeting his.

“Always are, really.”

“Well. You’re handsome, Morales.”

It’s intentional, adding his surname. Taking the softness out of it, removing what you can, and adding barriers and throwing up walls.

He still sucks in a breath, eyes lingering on yours, fingers dropping to brush a line up and down your cheek as he continues to slide his cock in and out of you. You moan as the head of him keeps kissing that part deep inside you.

It’s different.

You know it; he likely does too. Thankful he slants his mouth over yours. Slowly rocking with you, thrusting into you as you murmur his name, it falling enriched in moans.

From the way you both kiss, to the way you keep an arm around his neck, desperate to keep as much of him against yours.

“You feel so good, Frankie.” Your fingers scratch at the base of his neck. “Always make me feel so full.”

Stuffed really. Packed in. Clenching around him, all tightening, purposefully wrapping your walls around him until he groans right into your ear. Each drag of his cock in and out feeling exquisite, perfect, amazing.

It’s never been like this with others, never been like this even with him. His fucked out face, the grunts and groans coming from deep within make your thighs unable to stop their twitching as fire floods up your spine and the way he plunges you in lust-filled brown.

And you clutch his face, feverish from him, quivering, shaking. Burying the words, “So close, I’m gonna—fuck, I’m close baby,” against his mouth.

Pressing each letter in, stamping it—ensuring he knows it’s him doing this to you. Making a mess of you. The only person you ever want to make a mess out of you.

It thumping inside of you, hammering—all balled up fists and desperation because you want to tell him. Shout it at him. Paint the walls in it as he paints yours in white.

“Need you, Frankie.”

It’s close to the truth. Barely an inch from it.

“I know, need you too. Need to feel you come around me, hermosa. I need it, please. Please give it to me. Let me feel—fuck—feel you coming around my cock.”

And you hear it, the way he pleads—as well as realise the double meaning. You in the car, whispering words so close to the ones he’s spilling now.

“I will if you stay.”

He doesn’t still, but he does jolt. A hesitation in his pistoning.

Then he drops to his elbows around your face, cradling you, caging you in, as he kisses you—sloppily, messily, sweetly. It’s soft, but also full of heavy moans he wishes to force down your throat. It’s indulgent, a thing you never thought you’d have so now you take as much of it as you can get.

“Course I’ll stay. Never—fuck—anywhere I want to be but here, baby. Nowhere else.”

His eyes fix on you, digging the words in.

And, even if you knew it before, you realise how under your skin he is. How he’s woven in around tendons and ligaments, found a home, left marks against your bones you never want to rid.

You’re sure it’s that and not the words which make everything else mute.

Even if it’s all you can hear. Not the television in the other room, not the headboard clattering against the wall, not the sounds you’re making each time he drags his cock through your walls.

Just his words. Whatever he blesses you in. Your thoughts are all incoherent other than that. All shaky, practically vibrating; all gasping and torturous heavy heat, all unable to breathe and yet never wanting any of this to stop.

His hand slides around your thigh, pulling on your knee, bringing it closer as his grip almost grows bruising on you. He’s deep. Fucking into you so hard, hearing the concoction of his hisses, gasps and moans, before his mouth lands back on yours.

It’s overwhelming. The height you’ve reached, the way your mouth is only able to say his name as you watch him lick his thumb and distinctly feel it slide between the two of you. Finding it. Barely struggling to press the pad of it to your bundle of nerves before you lock up, the knot tightening, almost ripping inside of you.

It fraying from how much you’re fighting it, so close to bursting—

Then he draws quicker circles, all persistent, expertly, and you snap.

It surging, all white-hot, all blistering and mind-melting. You become both light and heavy all at once, your nails finding purpose in his side and your sheets, twisting, knotting to root yourself in this, in him—in how much you fucking love him.

“Fuck, querida—that’s it.”

You can’t respond, can’t even think up a response, but you do yank his mouth to yours. Pressing those three words there, laying them down, as well as thanking him, over and over until you slide your mouth against his cheek.

“Be good for me now, Frankie.”

His eyes flick to you, all ablaze and engulfed in want. And so you nod, knowing he can see it, feel it.

“Look so good, baby,” you add.

The noise is strained that comes from him, all sucked in breath. Then, his hips stammer, convulsing, all strangled, tightly entangled in a mess of your name and fuck.

And you kiss him.

Happily licking into his mouth to taste how delicious his moan is.

You try to fight the way your heart drops when you return from using the bathroom. Biting the inside of your mouth as you see the bed empty, sheets a mess, your throat swallowing back whatever sob wishes to escape.

Because the edges of your happiness crumble, your arm wrapping around the other, bottom lip almost wobbling.

That is, until you feel his hand on your lower back. Your head turns quickly, seeing him there. All hair-wild, and soft smile.

“Water, baby?”

Smiling, you thank him, taking several sips before handing it back to him, watching him do the same. Studying the way his throat bobs as he does, the faint marks of your mouth still lingering there on his skin.

“C’mon,” he whispers, kissing your cheek. “Let’s get in bed.”

“Oh, but the—“

“I’ve sorted it. Turned it off—folded the blanket, put the plates in water.” His hand wraps itself around yours. “So, let’s sleep.”

All you can muster is an okay. It leaves soft, slightly webbed at the edges from the way it catches on the growing lump in your throat.

It isn’t until you’re curled against him,

“Is this okay?” you whisper.

He lets out a laugh, little and breathy. “More than okay, hermosa.”

Guiding your leg to hook over his. Keeping his body flush as the two of you cuddle. His thumb swipes across your cheek, forehead close to yours as his fingers fan out over your hip, and he presses a kiss to the space between your brows.

You’re pretty sure your heart just tripled in size.

And those three words, the ones which have amassed into a chunk in your chest have suddenly begun pulsing all on their own—a beat completely separate, you find, to the one which pumps blood around your body.

CHAPTER EIGHT ->

[2baddiesfanfics]

Not a Burden

Pairing: Robin x F Reader

Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Comfort, Vaginal Fingering, Scissoring, Kissing

Summary:

Back on the high seas after the defeat of Kaido, the crew takes a bit of time to relax. However, one member of the Straw Hats is noticeably missing – its archaeologist. Nami alerts y/n (female reader), and she seeks Robin out to get the bottom of it. You knew that fight with Black Maria was only over in one way.

Read on Ao3

The sun was beginning to set and the silhouette of the Land of Wano had disappeared behind the clouds as the crew continued on their way to their next destination. With one of the fiercest battles they’d ever fought now behind them, the Straw Hats were grateful to be settling back into their routines on the Sunny.

Zoro could be found napping on the lawn while Luffy, Chopper, and Usopp played (a little too loudly) on the swings near him. The soft notes of Brook’s music wafted throughout the ship; over the years he had discovered if he stood in a certain spot on the deck, the sea breeze would carry his voice so everyone could hear.

The aroma of burgers and an assortment of other delectable meats still lingered in the air from tonight’s dinner. Sanji remained in the kitchen, putting the dishes away and starting preparations for tomorrow’s meals.

Franky and Jinbei’s voices could be heard deep in conversation, as the cyborg wanted to get to know the newest member of the crew on a more personal level. The two men walked around the vessel as the shipwright started making blueprints to build accommodations for him.

As you quietly observe the scenes unfolding before you, you hear Nami’s soft steps approach. “Hey, y/n! Have you seen Robin? She isn’t in the library and was even more quiet than normal at dinner.”

“No…I was about to come see if she was with you. I’m sure she’s fine and just needed some alone time,” you reassure her.

Nami nodded and walked down to the lawn to join the others. You thought it was odd Robin wasn’t here enjoying the after-dinner festivities. The two of you would usually watch them from afar as you cuddled with a book. You knit your brow.

This isn’t like her…

Concerned, you decide to go check in on your girlfriend.

You and Robin had become a couple shortly after the crew saved her at Enies Lobby. Having joined a week after she did, you fell for her as soon as your eyes met. You could sense there was a deep yet indescribable pain in the way she looked not just at you, but at everyone else on the ship as well.

Hesitant to get too close too fast and scare her off, you opted to take your time in getting to know everything about her - where she came from, her likes and dislikes, and what she did for fun. It was through your time together you started to think you were out of your depth.

Not only were you naturally introverted, you had already resigned yourself to the idea someone as beautiful and intelligent as her could never feel the same way about you. Despite this, you were still able to bond over how much the two of you had in common. Little did you know…the love you grew to have for her was indeed reciprocated.

A confession didn’t occur until after the tumultuousness of her rescue. After almost having lost her once, there was no way you’d ever let her go through an experience like that again. You still remember it like it was yesterday.

Robin, I know you’ve been hurt, betrayed, and treated as if you were some kind of monster. While I can never truly understand how that feels and changes you as a person, I can make you a promise: For as long as we’re together, I will NEVER allow you to go through that again. I’m yours, forever and always…if you’ll have me.

Neither of you could stop crying at that point, but it didn’t matter. Words weren’t needed. The two of you embraced and the deal was sealed.

Not long after, Franky surprised the both of you. After returning from the two years of training every member of the crew underwent, he built a separate room for you to share. While bunking with Nami was always fun, being able to have a moment to yourselves was a nice option.

“Robin? I’m coming in…” you say as you knock on the door to alert her of your presence.

As you enter the room, you see her sitting on the bed still wearing the lilac kimono she had acquired in Wano. Your breath hitched each time you saw her in it and your heart began to race. You shut the door and walk toward her.

“Hey, beautiful! What are…” you stop mid-question at the sound of soft sniffles. Rushing to her side, you take a seat next to her.

“What’s wrong?” Concern obvious in the tone of your voice.

Placing the back of her hand to her mouth, she whimpers again, nodding her head in the negative. “It’s nothing, love, don’t worry,” she says, tears quietly streaming down her cheeks.

You rub her leg to comfort her. “Flower, please talk to me. You’ve been more quiet than usual since the battles ended. Are your injuries bothering you? I can go get Chopper,” you say, hoping she won’t be too proud to allow you to get her some help.

Wiping her tears away, she places her other hand atop yours, resting them together on her lap. She faces you, her eyes bluer than the waters of even the clearest ocean. The tears that linger make them glisten in a sadly stunning way. Even distraught she was a sight to behold.

“When I was fighting Black Maria, she called me a tramp and a burden to the crew. In the heat of the battle, none of that even registered. But now, those words…‘you’re a burden’… I can’t help but wonder sometimes if there’s some truth to that statement.”

You flip your hand over and hold hers tight. Giving it a reassuring squeeze, you wordlessly urge her to continue.

“At times, I do feel like I don’t belong. After spending years being treated like I wasn’t needed or that my existence itself was a crime…what if it’s all true and I’ve been lying to myself? I’m not proud of what I’ve done in the past, but I had to do it if I wanted any chance at survival…” tears burst forth once again, and you pull her into your lap and hold her close to your chest. You kiss the top of her head as you wait until she regains her composure.

Once she settles down, you caress her cheek as she listens to the steady rhythm of your heart. This grounds her and helps her clear her head.

“Robin, my love, you’re certainly not a burden and you shouldn’t be ashamed of what you had to do to survive. You said it yourself - you simply want to live.” Your soft smile brings a stop to her crying.

“You were alone for a very long time, and from such a young age, at that. The crew wouldn’t be the same if you weren’t here. We love and need you. Nami has someone she looks up to as an older sister, and the knowledge only you have helps her construct accurate maps. Usopp takes inspiration from your scary stories to come up with new weapons to protect himself.” You feel her chuckle against you at the humorous images this evokes.

“Zoro respects the strength and will you have, and only steps in to protect you when he feels it’s needed. Sanji cooks for all of us, but you know he’d make anything you asked of him to special order, just for you. I did actually feel a little bad when he cried when we told him we were together.” You both laugh at the memory of him sobbing on the kitchen counter after you revealed to the crew you were an item.

“Brook appreciates you for being one of the first crew members to accept a skeleton joining and seeing him as a person. Jinbei admires your battle ability and has mentioned to me he wouldn’t want to fight you. Franky has someone to talk to about Pluton and the potential of what the world government would do with it.” You pause for a moment to let her take in your words before continuing.

“Of course, Chopper sees you as a mother figure even if he doesn’t admit it. He’d be lost without your calm, steady presence amongst this rambunctious crew. Most importantly, there’s Luffy. You are the one who is going to help guide him and the rest of this crew to our dreams. He can only become king of the pirates with all of our help - everyone here has a role to play, and none of us are here by mistake. This crew is your nakama and they would never see you as a burden.”

Placing a finger gently under her chin, you tilt her head up to look at you. “As for me, you taught me how to love and that someone like me is worthy of being loved by someone like you. You allow me to be me and accept me without judgment. I would do anything for you, flower. If anything happened to you, I’d turn this world upside down to save you. Do you not remember what I told you when I confessed? I’m yours, forever and always. I love you, Robin,” you declare as you kiss her forehead. She smiles up at you as she leans in closer.

“You have no idea what that means to me. Thank you. You always know what to say to make me feel better. I love you, too, y/n,” she whispers as she leans in and gently brushes her lips against yours. You kiss for what seems like an eternity in the best way, but a sense of unease causes you to pull back.

Taking her hands in yours, you ask, “Wait…are you sure you want this? I didn’t say what I said for any other reason but to make you see how cherished you are and I don’t want you to feel li-”

“Shhh,” she places a finger to your lips before you can finish. “Trust me. I think this is something we both need right now.”

Who am I to argue?

She pulls you back to her and captures your mouth with hers. The soft sounds coming from both of you cause your body to thrum with need, but you don’t dare make a move. It’s her turn to feel empowered and what better way than to let her take the reins?

Her body weight shifts, and you move further back onto the bed you share with her. The scent of the freshly washed sheets underneath you mixed with the familiar smell of tea and old books on her skin is enough to drive you mad, but somehow you remain in control of your senses.

Robin slides on top of you, and your bodies fit together as if you were made for one another. The pad of her thumb now traces your bottom lip as if it were a page from her favorite story. Your tongue darts out for a taste, and you see the pupils of her gorgeous sapphire eyes dilate. Taking her hand and turning it slightly, you place a kiss on her palm. Your mouth meets her wrist and you can feel her pulse quicken against your lips.

She extracts herself from your grip and her hands seek the hem of your shirt. The feel of her fingertips on your flesh nearly sets you on fire. Despite having done this many times before, there’s a renewed sense of urgency to this moment. Your hands get lost in tangles of raven-black hair as you draw her into a deeper kiss.

The moan she lets out echoes throughout your body as she tugs at your top, coaxing you to assist her in shedding it. You pull it up and over your head, only to see she’s shedding her kimono. Your mouth runs dry. You’ve seen this play out before, but the sight never ceases to remind you just how lucky you are.

Eager to be as close as possible, you both quickly remove the remainder of your clothing.

Her tender kisses make you so dizzy you’re glad she’s the one on top. As she moves her hand to caress your breast, you can’t stop yourself from groaning her name.

“Robin…”

You feel her mouth form a grin against yours. She takes pride in knowing what you like and never fails to make your head spin.

“Yes, love…let me make you feel as good as you’ve made me feel tonight.” Her words are sweet and tender in tone, but erotic at the same time. You feel her fingers teasing at your nipple and your body arches into hers.

“Oh god…please…Robin…”

Her touches remain light, conveying the emotion of this delicate moment. She’s treating you as if you might break, and for all you know, she may be right. You feel her elegant hand brush past your belly, and your face flushes - not out of embarrassment, but out of knowledge and anticipation of what’s coming next.

Your arousal already coats the inside of your thighs, and you’re aching to feel her touch where it’s most needed. As if she’s read your mind, you feel her middle finger tease your entrance. Your head slams back into the pillow, and your reaction tells her you can easily take another finger. Robin meets no resistance as she slides into you.

“Ahhhhhh…Robin…”

“Mmmm…I love hearing you call out my name. You know I’ll always be there for you in any way you need me. Especially like this,” her movements are steady, practiced. You know each other’s bodies down to a science.

“Robin…going to…”

She dips her head down to your ear, the heat of her breath warming your skin. Her teeth graze the shell of your ear as her seductive voice - the voice that is both tender and teasing at the same time - whispers, “I know…let me hear you…”

And just like that, you shatter. Your eyes snap shut from the intensity of your orgasm, but the image of Robin’s beautiful smile remains etched in your mind.

She carefully moves to lay beside you and kisses your cheek as you bask in the afterglow of what’s just occurred. A strand of your hair sticks to your flushed face, and you feel her soft fingers brush it away as your breathing slows. When you turn your head to look over at her, you’re greeted by her gleaming smile.

“Welcome back, love,” she whispers coyly.

You lean over to kiss her and, in no time at all, your positions are now reversed. Words can only convey so much - now it’s her turn. When your lips part, you look into her eyes and say, “Now let me show you how loved you are.”

She wraps her arms around your neck and pulls you back down towards her, your mouths crashing together once more. You feel her tongue push past your lips and suddenly your chest feels like it’s on fire. Your hand hovers over her breast and you feel her hum in anticipation. Sliding your thumb back and forth over her hardening nipple, she sighs at your touch.

“I love how intelligent you are,” you murmur as you lean up to kiss her forehead. Making your way back to her lips, you continue, “I love your wit and humor, even when it’s dark and freaks out Usopp.” You feel her chuckle vibrate against your teeth. Knowing she’s now completely relaxed, you glide your hand from her breast to between her legs. She gasps as you lubricate your fingers with her slick.

As you kiss her neck, you whisper, “You are the bravest, strongest woman I know and it’s one of the many reasons I look up to you.” You mark her neck, leaving a reminder you know she’ll see in the morning and playfully chastise you for later.

Resting your chin on her chest, you watch as she closes her eyes in ecstasy at the feel of your fingertips on her bud. The beating of her heart is the most beautiful rhythm you’ve ever heard and reflects the vision that now lies beneath you.

“Your caring heart and selflessness are just a few of the many traits I adore.” You continue showering her in affirmations as you slide your finger up and down her slit.

“Y/n…I need you,” she whimpers.

“Of course, my flower. You know I’m always here to take care of you,” you reply as you sit up and gently part her legs. Positioning yourself between them, you place one hand next to her head for support. Your cores now aligned, you start to slowly thrust against her.

“Ohhhhhhh yes!” she moans.

You start to speed up your rhythm as the evidence of your arousal mixes with her own. With your other hand, you reach for hers and your fingers interlock.

Between ragged breaths, you somehow choke out, “I thank the universe every day for you. I love you, Robin.”

Her head snaps back and you feel her tremble under you. She moans your name between your whispers ‘I love you’ as her orgasm washes over her. You watch as she comes undone. As the only one who gets to see this side of her, you feel like the luckiest person in all of the Grand Line.

You grind out your own release and come once again, nearly toppling over. When you next open your eyes, a red-faced Robin is smiling back up at you. Bringing your face to hers, you nuzzle your nose against hers before lying down next to her. You pull her to you, her head pillowed comfortably against your chest. You run your hand through her hair and bring her hand to your chest where your heart steadily beats for her.

Kissing her forehead, you say, “I love you. You’re not a burden, and you’re not alone anymore. If you ever have these thoughts or feelings again, promise me you’ll come to me. We’ll talk it out. Or do this again,” you say with a wink.

You feel her burrow closer. “I promise. I love you, too. And…thank you.”

[rosemaidenvixen]

Between Daylight and Darkness

Chapter 3

<Previous Next>

Ao3

Toby gripped the edge of his desk, eyeing the door into the room uneasily.

He leaned over towards Mary keeping his gaze on the door “Were you guys able to make any…progress yesterday?”

Mary’s expression turned pinched “No.”

A lead weight dropped in Toby’s gut.

That first night they all stayed as late as they possibly could to try and help, but they’d still had no luck in prying the armor off of Jim. Eventually Jim told them to go home and sleep and try to solve this tomorrow. But the next day he texted them that he was still stuck in the armor and was going to have to skip school. Toby had an orthodontist appointment and couldn’t see him after, but the girls had gone over to his place to try and troubleshoot, only to leave in defeat. The girls had kept him updated through text, but ever since yesterday afternoon it’d been radio silence from Ji–

The door swung open and Jim, dressed in jeans and a jacket and not a trace of armor, hurried into the room and took his seat next to them.

Toby slumped back in his chair, letting out a gusty sigh. Good to see Jim was ok and not sealed up like a tin can.

“Glad you made it in,” Claire leaned forward with a whisper “But how did you finally manage to get that armor off?”

Jim groaned and dragged a hand over his face, heavy shadows under his eyes “I don’t even know. I’ve been pulling and tugging at it all night then an hour ago it randomly popped off,”

Darci blinked “Umm…you did go to sleep after we left, right?”

“Nope,” Jim said with a pop “But I should be fine. I’ve gone all night without sleep before. I can’t do it a bunch of days in a row, but if I get plenty of sleep the next few days I’ll be fine,”

“Well don’t forget,” Mary cut in “Today we’re meeting up with Ms. Janeth to try and convince her to let you work on the play but cut out early,”

Jim slumped on top of his desk and groaned “Oh man don’t remind me,”

Toby patted his shoulder “Don’t worry, we’ll convince her,”

“Either that or I’ll make a complete fool of myself and get kicked out of drama club and become the laughing stock of the whole school, again,”

“That’s it, you know what the penalty for ripping on yourself is,” Toby stretched out of his seat to lean over and reach into Jim’s bag “I get to use your good pen for the rest of…”

Toby froze, eyes going huge “What the heck Jim!?” he hissed.

Jim jerked upright “Wha?”

“You brought the magical armor summoning pocket watch to school!?”

“What? No I left it at home in my des–” Jim moved over to look into his bag, only to instantly go still when he saw the shiny silver and blue object nestled between notebooks, face draining of color.

For a few seconds none of them moved, all staring at the pocket watch in disbelief,  then the object let out a loud click, flashing blue.

“Nopenopenope,” Jim scrambled to close the bag, shoving it underneath his seat “Not doing that,”

At the front of the room Mr. Strickler stood up from his desk and moved in front of the chalk board, signaling the end of the passing period and start of the lesson. Conversations all over the room dying into silence.

Mary angled over towards Jim and risked one more soft whisper “I think going all night without sleep might be messing with your head,”

“You might be onto something there…” Jim mumbled.

Toby knew he should stay quiet, both for keeping the magic on the down low and to not risk Mr. Strickler’s wrath, but the question wouldn’t leave his head and he absolutely had to know.

“So if you were stuck in that armor for two days how did you go to the bathroom?”

“Dude you don’t want to know,”

--

“...so that’s what we were thinking, sound good?”

Toby fought to keep the wide grin on his face, feeling the others shifting behind him as Ms. Janeth tapped her chin thoughtfully. She had to say yes, she just had to. Sure they were bending the rules a little, more than a little, but nothing to–

“I think we should be able to make that work,”

Jim perked up instantly “Really?”

“Of course,” Ms. Janeth stood from her desk with a smile “The fine art of theater should be shared with all! And while I have limited resources at my disposal, I’m always happy to make things more accessible,”

“That’s great,” Claire said with a wide grin. The five of them glancing around smiling at each other in relief.

“Always happy to welcome new blood aboard our cast, however…” Ms. Janeth swiftly turned and picked up a clipboard from her desk “Try outs are in the auditorium in fifteen minutes. So those of you that are aiming for speaking roles had better beat me there,”

They all piped up with ‘got it’s and ‘thank you’s and ‘see you there’ as they headed out of Ms. Janeth’s room.

“Sooo…I’m not trying out for anything, but is it cool if I watch you guys try out?” Jim said hopefully.

“Well duh,” Mary flicked her eyes towards the ceiling “You’re our emotional support, very important,”

Darci snickered “Of course, can’t be reciting memorized lines with any fewer than three people in the audience cheering you on,”

“Actually…would you guys be ok if I skipped out on this one?”

Four sets of eyes turned towards Toby, who flashed a nervous grin back at them.

“I want to raid the science lab for some supplies to test Jim’s…bag,”

Claire blinked “It’s ok if you’re not there for tryouts, but what kind of…equipment do you need?”

“It’ll be easier to show you when we meet up after tryouts,” Toby stepped forward and held out a hand “How about it Jimbo? Is it cool if I borrow your…bag for a bit?”

Jim’s expression was pensive, but he slipped the messenger bag off his shoulder and held it out “Uh…ok,”

“Thanks!” Toby snagged the bag and raced away down the hall “Catch you guys later!” hey flashed them a wave with his free hand, leaving behind four nervous and uncertain faces as he rushed through the hall.

--

Darci followed behind the others, Jim in the lead, as they headed up the steps towards his house.

“Remeber to cover your eyes,” Jim said with a forced chuckle “Toby might have a power sander in there,”

Darci opted to keep quiet at that, mainly because she had no idea if Jim was joking or not.

Jim cracked the door and peeked inside “Hey Tobes? You doing ok in here?”

“Come in guys! I think I’ve figured out something important,” Toby sounded super excited,, and mercifully Darci didn’t hear a power sander.

They filed into the living room to see Toby kneeling in front of the coffee table with the pocket watch and what looked like a random collection of rocks, nails, and screws sitting in front of him “You guys remember Moh’s scale of hardness?”

“A little bit…” Claire said slowly.

“It’s the geological scale by which the hardness of minerals is measured on a scale of one to ten. Chalk is one, diamond is ten, and a human fingernail is two and a half,”

Toby snapped his head up, green eyes flashing, a near manic grin on his face “This thing is harder than all of them,”

Darci blinked down at him “What?”

“I tested both the metal casing and the gemstone face, not even the diamond could scratch them,”

“Hang on, did you say diamond?” Mary stepped closer, eyeing the items on the table hungrily.

“An industrial diamond, that I have to put back in Ms. Lancaster’s room before she notices it’s gone,”

Claire slowly approached, kneeling down next to Toby and looking at the pocket watch with piqued interest “Harder than diamond? That…shouldn’t be possible,”

“I know!” Toby threw his hands up in the air “I thought that maybe Ms. Lancaster got ripped off, but I tested her diamond against the rest of the stuff in her kit and my own diamond, it’s the real deal,”

“Back up,” Mary sank to her knees and shoved herself in between them “You have a diamond!?”

“An industrial diamond!”

Darci and Jim were the only two still hanging back, they shared a look and then Jim took half a step closer to her “I’m going to run up to my room to change, be back in a bit,”

“Got it, I’ll keep an eye on this,” she gestured to the three clustered around the coffee table.

Jim nodded headed up the stairs, leaving Darci to watch Toby, Mary, and Claire buzzing over the pocket watch.

“Shouldn’t it be impossible for anything to be harder than diamond?” Claire said slowly, turning the pocket watch over in her hands.

“Technically there is lonsdaleite, but that’s only really found in microscopic quantities inside meteorites, so I doubt that’s what this is. Not to mention both the metal casing and the gemstone face are clearly made of different materials. There’s a chance the face is lonsdaleite and the metal is some kind of superhard synthetic, but I’ve never heard of anything like that being manufacture,” he lifted his head to peek over at Mary sitting next to him “Unless…”

“No, my research hasn’t uncovered anything,” Mary said with a growl, glancing back and forth between her phone and the pocket watch.

Keeping the three in her line of sight, Darci quietly took a seat on the couch across from them. She debated weighing in before deciding against it. If there was something to uncover the three of them would find it.

“A reverse image search turned up absolutely nothing, I couldn’t even find anything on the writing, not even what language it’s in!”

Soft footsteps sounded behind her, Darci turned to see Jim slipping on an extra large hoodie as he descended the stairs. The two of them shared a glance as he reached the main floor, his gaze flickering to the others before he headed back towards the kitchen.

“I swear it’s like this thing just fell out of the sky!”

Toby’s eyes went huge “Do you think it could be…extraterrestrial?”

“How would we even test for that,” Claire muttered, holding the watch right up to her eye.

“That’s a question for tomorrow,” Jim stepped back into the room holding two large bowls, one full of chips the other full of aluminum cans “It’s been a long thirty six hours and I need a break from whatever that thing is,”

He set the bowls on the coffee table and plucked the watch out of Claire’s hand, striding over to the desk in the corner of the room, dropping it inside the drawer and shutting it firmly before moving back to plunk down on the couch next to Darci “Let’s just have a normal afternoon with homework and videogames and tomorrow we can go back to talking about magic and diamonds and all that,”

“Fine,” Toby said, sliding the rocks and nails back into their case “I’ll pack up the Mohs kit for tonight, Mary no pocketing my diamond,”

“Hey I’ve seen it, you can keep that ugly thing,”

They all settled in on the chairs and couches, Jim pulling the bowl of cans onto his lap while Mary grabbed the chips, Claire pulling out a binder from her backpack.

“You guys have any ideas of what to do for your book reports yet?”

Mary snorted “C-bomb that isn’t due for a month,”

“Yeah I’m not planning on thinking about that until three days before it’s due,” Toby added.

“Hey my top priority is getting a lead role in the play, and that means getting everything else out of the wa–”

An ear splitting crunch bleeding into a metallic clang shot through the room, cutting her off.

They all whipped around to see Jim sitting on the couch with a deeply uncomfortable expression on his face, the pocket watch in his hand and under his teeth.

He pried open his mouth with a wince, the pocket watch dropping down into his lap with a soft thud.

“Oww…” the sound escaped Jim as a whisper, nearly a whine.

For a moment no one spoke, Darci whipping her head back and forth between the pocket watch and the desk Jim had put it in.

“Hang on,” Toby slid closer to Jim “Did you just try to eat that thing?”

“I wasn’t trying to eat it,” Jim mumbled, rubbing his jaw, I thought it was more recycling,”

“...dude how hard are your teeth?”

Darci slowly stood off the couch “I thought you put that thing in the desk…” she made her way to the desk and opened it, finding the drawer empty.

“I…did…” Jim said, eyes going wide “None of you moved it right?”

“None of us touched that thing,” Mary said flatly.

“We all would have seen it if one of us did,” Claire added.

“Did…did this thing teleport?” Jim moved to stand up but was halted by Toby’s hands on his shoulders.

“First things first, let me check and make sure none of your teeth are cracked.

Jim rolled his eyes “Tobes–”

“As someone who’s been in orthodontic hell since 7th grade trust me on this, if you have a cracked tooth you’re gonna want to know,”

Jim huffed but opened his mouth wide, allowing Toby to reach inside and start probing at his teeth.

Darci had a brief flash of a book she’d read as a kid about a mouse crawling inside a fox’s mouth to give him dental work before shaking her head and bringing her focus back around to the object in front of them.

“So exactly what made this thing…teleport?” she said slowly. Saying it out loud felt ridiculous, but they’d seen stranger things happen.

“Let’s test it,” Claire stood from the couch “Jim can I–”

“Here,” he held out the pocket watch, Claire plucking it from his grip.

Shifting her gaze from Jim to the watch, Claire took several steps back. Continuing to retreat down the hall until she was out of sight.

“It’s…not doing anything,” she called out before walking back into the room and setting the pocket watch down on the coffee table.

“Come to think of it TP had it all afternoon,” Mary glanced over at Toby.

“Yeah,” he replied “I was running tests on it for hours and it didn’t move once,”

Jim leaned forward “So then why now did it…”

“Maybe it only teleports for you,”

All eyes in the room swiveled towards Darci, who squirmed under the scrutiny but continued “I mean…it stayed in place for Claire and Toby, but moved out of the desk when you put it in there. And you said you didn’t remember putting it in your bag this morning, so maybe…”

“Maybe…” Jim nodded slowly, picking up the watch to turn it over a few times before setting it back down “Let’s test it out,”

He stood from the couch and backed away out of the room.

The instant he was out of sight the watch popped out of sight in a blue flash, making all four of them jump.

Within seconds Jim stepped back into the room, eyes wide and face blank and pocket watch clutched in his hand.

“You guys see that too?”

“Yep,” Toby said with a pop, drumming his palms against his knees with barely concealed anxiety “We just saw that thing vanish out of existence, unless I’m hallucinating and you guys are just going along with it,”

“Nope, unless we’re all experiencing a mass hallucination that definitely just happened," Darci said, eyeing the pocket watch uneasily.

Claire stood and moved towards Jim, Mary right on her heels “Did it actually move towards you or did it, like, appear and disappear?”

“Appear and disappear…I think,” Jim stared down at the watch while turning it over in his hand “I didn’t see it moving, just one second my pocket was empty and the next this thing was in there,”

“Sounds like it doesn’t move through space, but teleports directly to you,”

Toby hopped off the couch and ran to join them, pulling Jim’s arm down to stare at the object. Not wanting to be left alone in the Darci stood and walked over as well.

“But does it dematerialize and rematerialize?” Toby leaned in until the pocket watch was only inches away from his face “Or does it move through some other plane of existence where distance and physical barriers don’t matter?”

A tiny smile formed on Claire’s face “I’ve got a few ideas on how to find out,”

--

“Alright Darci give me your best shot!”

She grinned, making a show of winding up her arm “Heeeeeey batter batter batter, can’t hit can’t hit can’t hit– swing!”

She threw the watch at Jim with her best overhand. Jim striking it in midair with a perfectly timed swing of the bat, the watch whizzing over her head and into the trees, zooming through the air out of sight.

“There’s the hit…” Jim stepped back, allowing Mary to move in front of him, catcher’s mitt at the ready “It’s going, going…” he reached out to gently grasp Mary’s elbow, moving her mitt up ever so slightly to cover her face. In the distance through the woods Darci heard a whistling sound getting steadily louder.

The pocket watch shot out of the trees and straight towards Mary, landing hard in the mitt making her grunt and stagger back, but still with a triumphant grin on her face.

Darci threw both arms in the air with a cheer “Homerun!”

“If you guys don’t stop butchering baseball lingo I’m going to have to come over there,”

The three of them looked back towards where Toby and Claire were setting up their supplies on the ground of the backyard.

Mary scoffed “C’mon TP we all know you just want another turn being catcher,” she waved the mitt and the watch in his direction.

“Hey two things can be true,”

“Actually I think we’re all set,” Claire stood and dusted her hands off “You ready?”

“Sure,” Jim plucked the watch out of Mary’s glove and approached. He kneeled down on the ground in front of the supplies, the rest of them gathering in to watch “So where should I start…”

Claire swiftly snagged a canvas bag off the ground and held it out towards him “First pack it in this bag with the moly,”

Jim obediently dropped the watch in the bag, dried plants crinkling as he did, and tied it shut.

“Now put it in this steel lockbox,” Toby held the box in question out towards Jim. Jim gently setting the bag inside and clicking the lock shut. 

“Now we bind the box with chains of iron and silver,” Claire handed him a length of chain and some silver jewelry, Jim dutifully winding them around the box.

“And this rosary,” 

“And these iron beads,”

“And this Saint Michael Medallion,”

But the time Jim was done the lockbox was barely visible under all the layers of chains and beads.

Toby stood “Now put the whole thing in the oak chest,” he gestured towards the wide open wooden chest with a flourish, Jim gently setting the box down inside with Claire shutting the lid after.

For a moment they all stood around watching the chest, waiting for something to happen.

Toby shifted from foot to foot “So did it…”

“Nope,” Jim reached into his hoodie and pulled out the watch “Showed up in my pocket in two seconds,”

“Well that settles it,” Darci stepped up and patted the top of the chest “When someone takes that thing away it stays away, but when Jim leaves it somewhere there is absolutely nothing that can stop it from flying or teleporting back to him,”

“Still curious about possible interdimensional travel…” Toby muttered, tapping his chin thoughtfully, only to have Claire nudge him out of his thoughts.

“Hey don’t mean to rush, but can you get my moly out?”

“Oh sure let me just grab the key…” Toby reached into his front pocket only to instantly go stiff. He quickly started going through all his other pockets before slowly turning towards Claire, face red “Ok don’t be mad…”

“You lost the key!?”

“Hey I have it…somewhere, and I’ve got a spare…I think, look I haven’t used that lockbox since I was ten!”

“Do you know how much moly costs?!”

“Ok ok ok,” Toby held up his hands placatingly “You can take the box home with you and I’ll give you the key when I find it, or I’ll find a guy who can pick locks, whichever comes first,”

Claire didn’t say anything, but narrowed her gaze at him as she kneeled down and lifted the lid of the trunk.

Or she would have if the lid of the trunk hadn’t stayed where it was with a soft thud of opposition.

Mary arched an eyebrow “Claire uh…did you lock the trunk?”

Claire’s face went blank “I uh…didn’t know it locked,”

“What!? Nana’s jewelry is still in there!”

“How was I supposed to know it locked!”

“It is your trunk…” Mary mumbled.

“I told her we were just borrowing it for some rocks and minerals homework, what am I gonna say when she wants it back!?”

“Ok guys,” Jim stepped forward and eased himself between Claire and Toby “Let’s just chill for a second. Your stuff isn’t going anywhere,” he gestured down at the chest “You guys can take a few days to look for the keys, and if you get desperate enough I’m pretty sure I can get in there with brute force,”

Both Toby and Claire huffed a bit but calmed down.

Darci cleared her throat “Well hey, we learned a lot,”

“Yeah we learned to always keep track of your keys, and that this thing can teleport back to Jim,” Mary cut in “But we still don’t know what it is or where it came from and have no idea how to find out!”

“Actually…” Jim said slowly “I think I have an idea for where we can learn more…”

He shook his head “But not right now,” he tossed the watch in Darci’s direction, her reflexively catching it.

“Right now I just want to play catch with this thing until we pass out from exhaustion, or the mothership comes back for it, whichever happens first,”

“We can make that happen,” Toby plucked the catcher's mitt from Mary’s grip while Claire grabbed the bat, all of them getting into position.

[paper-crab]

Angst with Chris but it ends with fluff?

We good

summary: you and chris get into a fight, he apologizes

warnings: fighting, little sad

wc: 690

yesss! sorry it’s so short

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you.” He sighs, pulling his shirt over his head. “I didn’t think it would be such a big deal.” You can almost hear your heart break at his words. If you hadn’t cried over it earlier, you were certainly crying now.

“Of course it was a big deal! I told you over and over again that I wanted you there”

“Can we talk about this later? I’m tired,” Chris slides on some sweats, flipping in bed next to you. You shake your head at him, trying to gather your thoughts. He takes your silence as a yes, when really it’s you trying to steady yourself.

“Chris,” you start, voice cracking, “I waited there for 3 hours. 3. Hours.” you whisper the end, sounding defeated.

“I already said I’m sorry.” He says, eyes closed.

“You invited me to that event, Chris, and then you didn’t show up, and you don’t even have a reason?”

“I said we’ll talk about this tomorrow, just give it a rest.” Chris groans, growing agitated. He’d consider you to be pestering him right now, and he didn’t appreciate it.

That was your last straw however, silent tears becoming full-fledged sobs as you grab a pillow and a blanket. You climb over him, maneuvering your limbs in such a way that you wouldn’t even graze him.

Chris feels the shift in the bed, he can feel your presence crawling around him, but he doesn’t realize you’re leaving he hears the click of his bedroom door open. “Wait where are you going?” He asks, semi-frantically. His previously unbothered demeanor has absolutely disappeared and his eyes crack open.

“I’m sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“Wait, wait, no- we can talk about it now ma, I’m sorry,” Chris rolls out of bed, suddenly alert. You shake your head at him, a little show of telling him ‘too late’.

“I’m tired, Chris. We’ll talk tomorrow.” You tell him softly, sobs coming out of your mouth. You shut the door behind you, walking up to the couch.

When he realizes what his own line sounded like, he breaks down. He wants to go run out; switch places with you at the least. By the time he’s cried himself to sleep, you’re back at your apartment.

The next morning, Chris rolls out of bed with puffy red eyes and a sniffly nose- lingering effects of the previous night. You’re not in much better shape, but you don’t have to deal with the questioning of his brothers.

“Take me to her place, Matt.” Chris says, exasperated.

“Not until you tell me what happened.” Matt responds, continuing to munch on his cereal. He’s unbothered, even going as far as to put some more cereal in his bowl. Chris is ready to punch him.

“Fine, I’m walking.”

“Cool your tits kid,” Matt speaks, mouth full. “I’ll take you in a sec.”

The ride is tense. It seems like Chris is unwilling to talk, but really, he’s just going over his apology. His thoughts are racing while he practices the many ways he needs to say sorry. “Thanks Matt.”

“Sure, you want me to wait for you?”

Chris wants to shake his head, tell Matt no, but he doesn’t know if you’ll tell him to leave or not. He nods.

“I’m sorry that we fought.” Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth when you open the door. Your state isn’t much better than his; you’re still in yesterday's pajamas, puffy red eyes, and a sniffly nose. A wave of guilt floods him, and he feels himself shrink a little. “Me too,” You open the door for him, gesturing for him to come in. He doesn’t.

“It’s stupid- I was being stupid, and I’m so sorry-” He says, stumbling over his words. You know him well enough to know he’s two seconds away from panic mode.

“Shhh… It’s okay Chris, c’mere.” You tell him, holding out your arms. He practically jumps into your arms. “I missed you,”

“I missed you too.” Chris grins at you, pushing you into your apartment.

matt: you good?

chris: we good

[katsona-the-katsequel]

Specialized Extracurricular Execution Squad Activity Report

Part 8

12/2 (Wed) - Reporter: Mitsuru Kirijo

This is Kirijo. Today, during the Dark Hour... the meaning of Ikutsuki's ritual, which had been unknown for a long time, and a part of the truth about shadows were revealed. Though in a rather undesirable way.

I think that the boy named Ryoji Mochizuki, a transfer student from class 2F who had been coming in and out of the dorms for some time, has been mentioned several times in this activity report. It's often said that the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.

Now that I think about it, he transferred to the school right after defeating the 12th Shadow. And then there was Aigis's strange rejection reaction. The clues were right under our feet. Thinking about it now, that name "Moon" was definitely a fake, but even that seemed to be a hint that could help us solve the mystery of shadows.

For now, let's organize what happened tonight. First, during the Dark Hour, Aigis' Persona was detected at Moonlight Bridge. All the SEES members rushed to the scene and found Aigis in a semi-dead state and... Ryoji Mochizuki. According to Mochizuki himself, he was the one who caused Aigis to become half-destroyed, and his true identity is still hard to believe... He is a special Shadow born from the integration of 12 large Shadows, the "Appriser." This is probably the same as the "Death that Calls Ruin" that Ikutsuki mentioned.

To explain in chronological order, a huge number of shadows were gathered in an experiment 10 years ago. In reality, the "Appriser" was supposed to be born there all at once. However, the experiment was halted when the integration was incomplete. The nearly born the Appriser and Aigis, who was activated to intercept it, fought each other and were sealed in the mind of an ordinary boy who happened to be there...

Unbelievable... What mischief the god of chance can do... That boy was "him" whom we now rely on as a field leader. The boy lost his memory of the accident and grew up with the Appriser in his heart. Then, when he returned to Gekkoukan, the former testing site, the 12 large Shadows that had been scattered there, awakened to become one with the Bringer within him. That was the truth behind the sudden appearance of large Shadows this April.

And tonight, we have new information from Mochizuki. This is what the shadows' goal is. The resurrection of "Mother."

It is said that the being begins to awaken as it is drawn to the "Appriser", that is, Mochizuki.

But who this person is, what kind of being she is, that's still a mystery at this point. The important thing is that Mochizuki lost consciousness due to exhaustion. I'll wait for him to wake up tomorrow and ask for more information. I have a bad feeling...

12/3 (Thu) - Reporter: Ken Amada

For some reason...I don't feel like talking to anyone, but I feel like I'll go crazy if I keep quiet, so I'll at least report what happened today.

I was really shocked when I heard the story from Mochizuki-san. I still can't believe that he's not human, but he's a Shadow ally, Nyx... She is an existence that brings about destruction...

Nyx's visit, as he said yesterday, has already been decided and is unavoidable. And so, we will be... destroyed.

It still doesn't click with me. Destruction.

Mochizuki-san said that we have a choice. We have two options: continue to wait in fear for Nyx's descent, or lose our memories and face that day.

I thought I understood that there are many things in the world that I don't understand, but there are still many more. This world is full of unreasonable things. But…I'm going to bed now.

12/4 (Fri) - Reporter: Akihiko Sanada

…Amada, don't shut your mouth there. If there is something unreasonable, cry out about the injustice! If you are subjected to absurdity, break through its web! That is what it means to live. If we remain silent and stop taking action, we will be as good as dead, without waiting for Nyx's arrival. In any case, if we stop moving, we will surely lose.

12/5 (Sat) - Reporter: Junpei Iori

Hi... it's Junpei. It's annoying, both Amada-san and Sanada-san are on edge... well... it's no good. In my current mental state, I can't really say anything clever. But seriously, Sanada-san, please stay as confident and calm as always. I'm begging you...

12/6 (Sun) - Reporter: Yukari Takeba

Well, this is Takeba. I feel like I'm slowly starting to think more clearly. Right after that, I was in a panic and my memories were hazy. But now that I'm able to think more clearly, I'm starting to feel a sense of fear, and it's starting to creep up on me.

What you said back then, the way to make life easier for yourself after losing your memories, basically means that you have to kill Ryoji, right? Ryoji said it so casually that it didn't really hit home until now...it's scary.

Just a little while ago they were just acting like normal classmates, acting like idiots, and now suddenly they're discussing whether they should kill someone like that or not...

Hey, is there really nothing we can do?

Can't we do something like my father when he risked his life to stop the experiment? ….But I guess I'll just have to ask someone. I'll have to think for myself. Okay. …This was Takeba.

12/7 (Mon) - Reporter: Fuuka Yamagishi

Good evening, this is Yamagishi. Four days have passed since then, and things are starting to calm down in the dorm. Even as we speak, the day of destruction is drawing nearer, and everyone is really amazing. I'm running away from the fear and studying for exams in my room. This isn't good. I have to do something...

12/8 (Tue) - Reporter: Akihiko Sanada

Yamagishi, you say studying for exams is an escape, but it's not something you can escape from. Don't blame yourself too much.

Also, this is just a guess, but maybe because of Juno's sensitivity, Yamagishi is unconsciously carrying our share of the fear. We are all connected. Don't push yourself alone.

12/9 (Wed) - Reporter: Mitsuru Kirijo

It's Kirijo. Tomorrow will be a week since we heard Mochizuki's sentence. Everyone seems to be regaining their composure. Anyway, it seems necessary to reach a consensus within SEES.

However, it is not a pleasant debate, as it is about whether to let Mochizuki live or die...

12/10 (Thu) - Reporter: Junpei Iori

Hi, this is Junpei.

Umm... I lost my cool at the meeting today, I'm sorry. I'm really not cool.

My mind was completely blank... I felt like I had just realized for the first time that "scary" means "really scary."... Ugh, that doesn't sound like Japanese.

But, I'm okay now. I still have no idea what to do from now on, but if I keep yelling by myself, I won't be able to face him. And Ryoji is my friend, so... I have to do something.

12/11 (Fri) - Reporter: Fuuka Yamagishi

Good evening, this is Yamagishi. Yesterday, Kirijo-senpai told me to just go about my daily life as usual, so I'm trying to get back to "normal" somehow...but when I think about it, normal is hard, isn't it? I can't remember what I did during breaks at school when nothing was happening, or how I spent my time after returning to the dorm, or the things I did unconsciously...

So, when I think about it, I get scared again. I know it's a bad habit, but when I start thinking about it, things just keep getting worse.

What scared me today was that I couldn't remember who my normal self was. I felt that not remembering the time I spent unconsciously was the same as it never happened. Maybe I was "transmogrifying" the time I spent absent-mindedly.

So I'm going to spend my time thinking a little more than "normally." Because I don't want to lose it.

12/12 (Sat) - Reporter: Yukari Takeba

Well, this is Takeba.

We all got to talk and confess our true feelings, and I think we've calmed down quite a bit. It's hard to be "as usual," but it's important to keep a cool head.

But Mitsuru-senpai, who first brought it up, has a slightly awkward way of moving, which is funny. There's a short pause just before she puts sugar in her tea, or just before she picks up a book and opens it, and I wonder if she's trying to remember how she normally does things.

Oh, I don't want to get angry even if I hit the nail on the head.

Now, as for being as usual, I'd like to take a good look at my daily life, but the day after tomorrow is the final exam. ...Seriously?

12/13 (Sun) - Reporter: Akihiko Sanada

Normally, around this time before exams, I'd be the one giving the second-years a pep talk, but this time it doesn't seem necessary. Junpei seems to be doing pretty well this time too.

Well, whether you laugh or cry, the real exam is tomorrow. Do your best so that you have no regrets. I hope you get good results.

12/14 (Mon) - Reporter: Junpei Iori

Hi, it's Junpei.

I think I got a lot of points on history today! Well, it was unusual for Ono Mune, but there were a lot of normal questions that I could get by just memorizing dates. I guess the head of the year scolded me for being too biased on the questions. Tomorrow is chemistry... hmm, it's a pain, but I'll study.

12/15 (Tue) - Reporter: Fuuka Yamagishi

Good evening, this is Yamagishi. Today is the second day of the exam. I was worried about the question on tofu coagulants, but after checking the answer with Yukari, I was glad to find out that I got it right.

According to Yukari, when you buy tofu, it says "nigari (magnesium chloride)" in the ingredients list, so this is a question about common sense. At times like this, I feel the importance of human kindness beyond school studies.

By the way, I wonder how Junpei-kun felt today? I heard his report yesterday, but it's amazing that Junpei-kun, who is lazy, was able to memorize things properly. I hope he gets a good result.

12/16 (Wed) - Reporter: Akihiko Sanada

Today is the third day of the exam. I was a little worried, but it turned out easier than I expected. I was able to concentrate better than I expected, and I felt a good response.

By the way, while we were worrying, it seems that the number of people suffering from Apathy Syndrome has increased more than expected. Making that decision is important, but we should also make a solid plan to defeat the shadows.

12/17 (Thu) - Reporter: Ken Amada

Everyone seems to be busy studying for exams today. Only two days left? Six days from Monday to Saturday. It seems really tough. But even though the exams seem tough, listening to what people say about it, studying in high school seems interesting. Junpei-san told me the reason why beautiful women in the Heian period had white faces. I can't wait to become a high school student too.

<-PREVIOUS●NEXT->

Tag List: @kerto-p

[kcrabb88]

Could you do number 9 for quinobi? I love your writing!

9. Kiss in Public (Thank you so much! I'm going to see Phantom Menace in theaters tomorrow, so it made this idea pop into my head!)

The masters have been urging him to talk through his feelings with them for the past 24-hours. Obi-Wan doesn't know what to say other than to scream out his heartache, and that won't do.

So, he says nothing but the facts. He hasn't cried a tear since he was alone with Qui-Gon's corpse. Master Windu and Master Yoda have been making all the arrangements, and Obi-Wan, left with little to do, has been tending to Anakin instead. Making him feel safe. No one knows it yet, but that little boy is about to become his life. Whatever it takes. Whatever he has to do. The masters will probably grant him knighthood for defeating Maul without making him go through the trials. That's not what he's concerned about. What he's concerned about is them letting him train Anakin.

It's okay if you want to cry, Obi-Wan, Anakin told him a few hours ago. I understand.

It is natural to cry for our lost loved ones, Master Plo added. Do not feel ashamed, young one. Losing one's master at so young an age is very painful.

Obi-Wan still didn't.

That changes when Quinlan Vos' voice shoots through the cool evening air on Naboo.

"Obi-Wan!"

From his place next to the council members who arrived yesterday not long after Obi-Wan commed them and said in a broken voice Qui-Gon is dead, Obi-Wan spins around. The funeral is in a few hours, and they suggested he get some air.

Obi-Wan forgetting all decorum, forgetting that he is no longer an adolescent, forgetting that their very kind hosts might come into this little courtyard and see his lack of manners, runs straight for Quinlan.

Quinlan catches him in his arms and holds him tight. The tunics he wears are still sandy from Tatooine--Qui-Gon said he'd seen Quinlan, but didn't bother him given he was undercover.

Tatooine.

The first place they saw that wretch who killed his master.

"Why didn't you comm me?" Quinlan whispers against Obi-Wan's hair. "When I heard the news from Tholme, I told him he must have heard wrong."

"You were on a mission," Obi-Wan says, and he buries his face against Quinlan's shoulder.

"Fuck that," Quinlan mutters, even though both of them know that their duties come first. It's who they are. "I'm so sorry, Obes." Quinlan sniffs and sucks in a breath. "I'm so, so sorry."

For the first time since he held his dying master, Obi-Wan cries. It's quiet. Unassuming. He doesn't want to make a show of himself, and Force knows, he doesn't know if he deserves to cry on the account of he wasn't fast enough to help Qui-Gon. He doesn't want to shout like he did when Maul first ran Qui-Gon through. Anakin could come out and hear him. It could upset him, and that's the last thing that little boy needs right now. Quinlan holds him and holds him and holds him and doesn't let go.

Let go. When he will be able to let go of this he doesn't know. It has changed him irrevocably. But he must keep moving and be the Jedi Qui-Gon said he could be.

You're a much wiser man than I am. I forsee you will become a great Jedi.

Wise. He feels like a child.

Quinlan pulls back and kisses Obi-Wan's forehead before resuming the long hug.

"I'm here, yeah?" he says, and all Obi-Wan can do is echo him.

"Yeah," he replies, and once again, he manages his tears. "I know."

[josdelusions]

Not sure if you're taking requests rn but if you are I'd literally die for a story with the reader comforting erling after losing in a big tournament or something ❤️

Request:Comforting Erling after he lost a match

Fluffy, Comforting. warning: none

A/n:I hope you like it and if you want more requests, the ask is open

You were nervous and a little worried at home watching your boyfriend Erling's team play. The team was winning until 20 minutes ago and now it was losing 2-1 and the game was almost over. You saw your boyfriend's expressions and he looked pretty upset about defeat.

You knew when the game was over he would come straight home with mixed feelings; tiredness, sadness and anger. So you decided to prepare a very tasty dinner for him to try to ease the frustration.

After a few hours you hear the sound of the door being unlocked and you hear his footsteps going straight into the living room.

He was sprawled on the couch, eyes closed, hair down and wearing his blue City sweatshirt. You kneel on the floor and touch his arm.

"Love, I'm sorry about leaving"

"It was a total failure, I just want to sleep and wake up the next day"

he answers back

"It doesn't stay like that, unfortunately it was shit what happened, but tomorrow is another day you will be able to reverse these mistakes. I made dinner, are you hungry?"

"I don't want to eat, I'm going to shower and sleep."

"Honey, but did you get something after the game? eat something first"

"Yn, please, I'm fucked up and pissed off about this game shit. I just want to be alone, okay?"

"OK then"

After you say that, Erling goes straight to your room. You don't get upset with his driest words he was tired and was defeated today in the match.

So you put the food on your plate and eat alone while listening to the sound of water falling in the bathroom.

You decide to watch a movie instead of going to your room. It was better to leave him alone for a few hours, until he cooled off. You were tired too and it didn't take long to fall asleep right there on the couch.

Suddenly, you wake up with your boyfriend's strong arms wrapping around your body and carrying you to the bedroom.

"Erling, what are you doing?"

"Putting you to sleep in the room with me. That's where you're supposed to sleep, not here on the couch."

He says and places you gently on the bed and lies on the other side facing you, facing you.

"I'm sorry for talking to you like that earlier, it's just that my blood was still boiling and I just wanted to isolate myself"

"It's okay honey, you had a rough day today"

"I don't know what's happening to me, actually I don't know if I'm the problem or if it's the team"

"Honey, don't blame yourself. You arrived at the club practically yesterday and you've already become the season's top scorer. I think you've adapted well to the team, but maybe the team hasn't adapted so much to you. But that will be resolved with the time"

"I know, but you know how I am, I hate to lose and the last few weeks I've felt pressure from people on me"

"Love, you haven't scored in two games. Calm down, everything will work out, you don't need to be tense like that"

Erling hugs you tight and you reciprocate and stroke his hair.

"Everything will be alright, I'm here with you"

You feel that he has become less tense and he breaks the hug, gives you a smile and kisses you gently.

"You are my emotional support, you know right? You reassure me and bring me peace. Thank you for being here when I need it"

"I love you, Erling."

"I love you more, much more, yn"

"If you really love me, then eat the carbonara I made for you"

"It will be a pleasure, because I'm starving and there's no better medicine to make me better than you and your delicious food"

[sunflower1experiment]

Role model

TW/ Canon event (for reader)

Spoilers

“Oi, ya done wif the shower love?”

|Name| ignores him silently acknowledging the knocks before they got up from the shower floor and open it. He sighs, “Come on love, chin up. Don’t let em tear ya down ya gon ‘ave a ‘appy endin no how wit that attitude. Eh?”

Giving a nod they back up so he can come inside and hug their smaller form. “Ay? You head on back to your universe an I’ll take care of tha meal ya made.”

Cleaning up after themselves Hobie notices a picture, |Name| and their little boy. He sighs grabbing it carefully before walking through the portal to an empty house and a couple of bottles of soda as well as a phone playing some whale noises to calm the mood.

Once |Name| sat down Hobie hands them their picture, “See you tomorrow aight? Look, chin up.” He gently nudged their chin.

“You’re my role model and I’ll be your role model. Much as I hate labels anythin for you |Name|…eh no, don’t..”

“Was there any way I could’ve changed this canon event before Miguel trapped me?”

Hobie sighs, “I’m…I ain’t really got a Scooby Doo love..if anythin I’m sure there’s a way to stop the madness and pain but whout are we ya do ya know…Ah ain’t ever seen it you ain’t either. Only thing we can do is hope for the best.” As he turns to walk off they gently hold his sleeve.

Later on the two were sleeping next to one another comfortably while |Name| lays against his chest. “Sorry |Name|…” he rubs the sleeping spider being’s hair slowly then swipes over to a picture with the three of them and the boy.

“Man…you really named em after me…even after your ex..” he sighs. “Crazy times hun, crazy times.”

It was as if that terrible nightmare was yesterday, sure three weeks later is long but.

The horror in their eyes.

—

“Look, I don’t want to ruin whatever this is between you both but you can’t. Not until your canon event happened. And right now I can’t bare to drop that detail-“

“What canon event? Miguel I already had one, my ex’s parent died I felt bad but I moved on ever since Hobie came to my life I’ve been…” Hobie looks at |Name|.

“Ya named little guy after me eh?”

“Yea..um..sorry I never told ya but yea.”

“Figured, he always answers when ya call me.” The two share a small chuckle but they noticed Jessica’s hurt look of defeat.

“What?” They look over to the other spiders, “What’s this canon event about?”

“|Name| the problem is that because your canon event happened and it didn’t affect you as much you maybe forced through another one but- Hobie won’t…he’ll be apart of it..”

They go silent, “A-Alright for what? It’ll be easy I can just…I can save them a canon event maybe canon but we can change it right? It’ll still be canon and..”

Miguel reached over and held their shoulder. “I’m sorry, I was trying to understand it myself-“

“No! That’s my child I- when will it happen I just need to see them one last time If I could just- I’ll make them avoid it. Please Miguel you can’t do this to me! I’ll struggle through an anomaly just please-.”

Miguel gave them a firm warning, “You and I both know that’s naive and selfish of you. Risking the multiverse for something unattainable and inevitable is not going to…I understand what this means believe me.”

Miguel stops when they start tapping for home, grabbing |Name| by the wrist in the process. “I’m sorry |Name| I swear , please don’t make this hard for you.”

It goes quiet. Hobie grabbed his guitar ready to attack Miguel if needed but he noticed how scared |Name| was, and knowing they were outnumbered even without the right form of surprise and ammunition towards their success it was a good percent chance of failure.

|Name| was willing to take the chance, tapping on their controller until they suddenly felt their surroundings become sheltered and they were in a room. “Is this the conservatory room…Miguel let me out, let me say goodbye to him please.”

“It’s for your own good…”

It was for their own good, and yet..

—

Hobie looks down at them, their health deteriorated so bad. Miguel didn’t even care to check on them; it was for their own good, what about the one they lost?

Why? Why did he do that was it because you were one of the many uncommon canon events with kids involved? He didn’t know, right now he’d have to stay beside |Name| until they healed, but for now he was stuck with a mourning parent, who was in dire need of his love.

[totally-bogus-timelady]

Nice Uniform

A/N So this is just a little thing that I whacked out to try and get the metaphorical cogs turning. As usual I would love to hear what you guys think and reblogs are always appreciated! No smut in this one but my blog/work is always 18+.

“Nice uniform.”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“What? I mean it, it’s a very nice uniform...” 

You snicker as Steve stands there, glaring at you, arms crossed in that perfect scolding mother stance of his.

“You know what, for that comment, you can walk to school tomorrow,” he sends a triumphant smirk your way as you scoff at him.

“Ugh, you are so bitchy Steve. What’s the matter? Those shorts getting your panties in a twist or something?” You continue to cackle as he throws his arms up, exasperated and turns to walk away in defeat. You jog to catch up with him as he makes his way through the mall.

Steve had stopped by the exercise class you’d just finished on his way to work, a cup of coffee for you in his hand and grimace plastered on his face as if preparing himself for your reaction to his appearance.

“Hey, Steve! Come on, I was just kidding.” 

Steve turns back to you and huffs, tongue poking the inside of his cheek in annoyance. His eyes look past yours, a faint blush tinging his cheeks pink before he then focuses on your face. You look him up and down with a small smile, all traces of teasing gone.

“It’s really not that bad,” you try to comfort him.

He scoffs and gives you a look as if to say ‘seriously.’ 

“Are you kidding me? I mean, come on! How am I supposed to find a girlfriend wearing this stupid thing,” he gestures down at his sailor shirt and tiny shorts that are somehow still flattering on him, accentuating his slim waist. Your eyes linger a little longer than you’d care to admit and you quickly flit your eyes back up before Steve catches you ogling. 

Your best friend is attractive, there’s no two ways about that, with his luscious, thick brown hair, his doe like hazel eyes and that beautifully dumbstruck expression where his lips part as he gawps, cluelessly. 

You’d always viewed Steve as nothing more than a friend but occasionally your mind would wander, like last week when you’d realized that your stare was directed at his ass, him in his tight blue jeans as he’d bent over to get something from the trunk of his car.

You’d drawn it up to sexual frustration. At the end of the day you were a woman with needs and Steve was quickly becoming more and more of an attractive man. 

Not that you would ever act on it. You were merely just indulging occasionally in a small fantasy or appreciating the lovely view he would often provide...

“Steve, trust me, you have nothing to worry about. Yeah, the outfits stupid! But if anyone could still make something as stupid as this look attractive, it would be you!” You shoot a genuine smile at him as his cocky little smirk slowly starts to return to his pretty face.

“You really think I have nothing to worry about?” He asks, still a little timid.

“Really,” Steve still looks at you skeptically. “Oh, what do you want, a list? Alright, the blue actually complements your eyes pretty well, its somehow a very slimming outfit and the shorts make your ass look great, okay!”

Steve smirks triumphantly at you.

“I knew it!” He points his finger at you, waggling it in your face accusingly, smug grin plastered across his own. You gaze at him, brows furrowed, confused expression taking over.

“I knew you were looking at my ass!” You took on a very convincing impression of a fish, your mouth opening and closing in disbelief. “Last week when I was getting those VHS tapes out of the car and a few days ago when you couldn’t reach that book in the store, so you got me to reach up and get it for you! And yesterday, when I leaned over the bonnet to fix my wiper blade... You’ve been looking at my ass!” Steve, his face filled with pure glee at having caught you out, crosses his arms and smirks.

You stammer, looking for some kind of coherent response. “I, I- no I haven’t been- Why would I be looking at your- I wasn't looking at your ass...”

“Oh come on! I’ve caught you, you were looking at it.”

Steve shuffles slightly closer to you and moves his hand up to brush a strand of your hair out of your face. You desperately willed your blush to go away before Steve found anything else to tease you about.

“It’s okay you know, I’d have a hard time concentrating if the package was this pretty too.”

“Oh shut up,” You shove at his shoulder. A small smile starts to make an appearance on your face and Steve laughs. “Stop using me to boost your ego Harrington. Alright, I will admit that on occasion I may have noticed your ass out of the corner of my eye and haven’t been completely disgusted by it, but that does not mean I have been gazing longingly at you. You’re still my weird best friend, who I once caught shaving his chest hair with my pink lady razor!”

Steve’s laughing comes to a sudden stop and his wicked grin falls.

“You promised me that we’d never speak of that again!”

“Well it’s your own fault for teasing me!”

“You were the one who was staring at my ass!”

“You’re the one who’s wearing the stupid sailor costume, with the tiny shorts!”

“Oh, they’re tiny shorts now are they? When did you notice that? When you were looking at my ass!”

“Okay, shut up!” You finally put a stop to the incessant bickering. “I’m calling a truce! I’ll stop talking about the pink lady razor and the stupid uniform if you stop talking about me occasionally looking at your ass.”

Steve looks at you skeptically, deciding whether to take your offer. 

“Okay, truce.”

“Okay,” You both start walking towards Steve’s new place of work, “So, you wanna tell me about your new job?”

Steve scratches the back of his neck. “Eh, it’s nothing special. Ice cream is ice cream at the end of the day.”

“Yeah, I guess so. But it’s good that you’re doing something for yoursel-”

“You know I look at yours too right?” Steve asks. You gawp at him confused.

“What?”

“Your ass... I sometimes look, y’know, when you're... I don’t know, but I do. What I’m trying to say is that you don’t have to feel weird about it ‘cause I do it too sometimes. So... yeah.”

You blush for what feels like the hundredth time that morning, absorbing the information Steve has just given you.

“Oh,” You let out rather pathetically and realize that you should probably follow it up with something more informative. “Yeah, no... that’s... yeah that’s normal right? I mean, we’re best friends and we spend a lot of time together so it’s... no big deal right? It doesn’t mean anything.”

Steve continues to look ahead of him, purposely not looking in your direction out of fear that he might embarrass himself further.

“Exactly, no big deal. It’s just something that people do.”

“Yeah.”

“Glad we cleared that up,” Steve looks at you now and you both let out a slightly awkward chuckle.

Steve’s cheeks glow with embarrassment, a timid smile lifting the corners of his lips and his eyes do that thing were they go all wide and glazy. You decide to break the tension.

“Hey, race you to Scoops?” A cheesy grin takes over your face as you nudge him in the ribs.

“Wha- Hey!” You shove him and take off running into the distance.

Steve chases after you and being the athlete that he is, eventually overtakes you. he looks back at you, still running and sends you a cheeky wink. You huff at his behavior and start to slow down.

In the few seconds that Steve wasn’t looking where he was going, he fails to see the musical horse ride in the middle of the mall. Steve runs straight into it and trips. He’s sprawled, quite pathetically, hanging over the ride. His ass is in the air, lean legs on display in his small, dark blue shorts. His face is completely obscured from view.

You slowly walk up to him, now trying to suppress your chuckling as you send a slap to his ass. 

“Guess I win either way then, huh Harrington. Well I’ve made my decision.”

A pathetic sounding “What?” comes from the other side of the horse. You walk round to the other side and crouch down so that you’re face to face with Steve. His hazel eyes gaze cluelessly into yours.

Brushing a bit of his mane out of his face you smile and say to him,

“The uniform’s not so bad.”

[winchwsta]

I had an idea for a long time to bring Krux back as the main villain in the fan season, but I left it in a long drawer because there are no exact concepts and ideas for the plot.

But

I want to tell you how Krux survived in that time vortex where the time masters and Wu were supposed to die. The latter, as we know, did not die, which is unfortunate. The Masters of time were forever stuck in a time loop, where the last events of their lives were repeated over and over again. They got into Groundhog Day and tried to change the past every time, but each time Wu defeated them and died together in that time vortex. In another attempt to defeat the ninja, Krux came up with a way to break the time loop and the death of the twins. He told Acronix his rescue plan, but the latter abandoned this venture because this idea turned out to be too risky and dirty for him. Despite his brother's reproaches, Krux still did what he should not have done. Connect all four forces that flow in the veins of the brothers, but one of them will die, and this is the Acronix. By connecting with his brother, Krux gained full access to the forces of time. That is, before that, the forces of time were divided into two brothers for each of them, and with all the powers, Krux can freely move through time, control time and return to his home world - Chronos. That is, Krux has become a true, if I may say, purebred master of time and Timelord.  And at the same time became a blue titan, yes. Having become the supreme master, Krux freely came out of that time loop. Acronix now lives in Krux, and most likely Krux will now have four hands, hands of time. In his home world, Krux will now be considered a fratricide or a criminal who violated the rule of the Time Lords. In fact, Krux did not want to merge with his brother, but it was the only way to get out of this endless prison of suffering in time, and most importantly, the only way not to break the bond with his brother. Krux will always say in defense of himself that he did not kill Acronix, but saved him by joining together with him. I quote his words: "My brother is not dead. He's here in me. Yesterday, now, tomorrow, forever."

Chronos is one of the 16 worlds, one of the very first worlds in the universe, like the world of Oni and dragons. Millions of Chrononians live there and are ruled by Time masters aka Time Lords. These time lords are part of the Eternals and are the most powerful beings on an equal footing with the Overlord, the FSM and the gold Master. The Timelords themselves are titans, giants who are responsible for time. Without them there would be chaos, without them no one would live. One of the Timelords once visited Ninjago and fell in love with one of the commoners. The Timelord blessed her, and the bastards whose names you already know were born. But the Time Lord returned to Chronos without his new family, leaving his offspring without a father and their mother's care. Acronix and Krux grew up in the world of humans, serpentines and elemental masters. Although they were bastards who were often disrespected by the purebloods, the young masters of time were famous for their rare gift of the gods. The twins were angry at Timelord's father for leaving them in a gray, bleak world and for breaking their mother's heart. Acronix and Krux loved their mother very much, despite the fact that she is a simple person without any powers and titles. Embittered and abandoned by their own father, the brothers wanted to call the Timelord back to earth and get an answer to their main question — "why did you leave us?". After learning more information about the masters of time, about the world of Chronos and about Timelords, Master Chen "threw" the idea to the twins how to attract the attention of their father. He said that if the brothers capture Ninjago with the help of the great power of time, then soldiers and Timelords from Chronos will definitely join here. Chen also added, "Power over time is power over everything." And then you already know what Krux and Acronix did.

I don't know what I wanted to write in the plot then, but now I would write so that in the civil War the world of Chronos was shown for the first time, where Wu, Garmadon, Maya and Ray with Libber will travel. They lost the war with the time twins, but Wu found the only way to defeat the masters — to get the chronosteel from Chronos, forge a weapon from it that will take away the brothers' strength. Despite all the disagreements with Ninjago, the Timelords allowed to take the chronosteel and thus helped to defeat the time twins. Krux and Acronix knew perfectly well where the Alliance got the metal and forged weapons, and since then they were sure that their father didn't care about them and promised to take revenge on him for everything.

Revenge on the father, Chronos, Timelords and Ninjago. Krux must achieve this goal by promising his dead brother that everyone will worship before them as before the gods. Most likely, Krux will cause such chaos in Chronos, which will entail many troubles and changes in the history of all worlds.

In fact, creating a plot and dealing with time is not the sweetest thing. It takes a lot of brain-racking to get a more or less normal plot, so I threw this fan season into the long box. But I still like the idea of Chronos, with the father-titan Timelord and the connection of twin brothers together.

[wakatoshitiddies]

#UshiOiWeek2024

Day 2: Friends kiss each other all the time, right?

Oikawa Tooru had become a household name.

One of the most famous actors in his generation.

His face was all over magazine covers, commercials, television shows, and movie posters across the globe.

But fame came with its price, and on that particular night, the price was thousands of notifications, calls from her manager, and messages from family and friends flooding his phone.

Yesterday, he had a fan meet-and-greet. It was always fun meeting his fans and interacting with them.

He expected that there would be tags or mentions, but the content was not what he anticipated.

"Did you see the mark on Tooru's neck? ”

That's not an insect bite, right? "

"It's a love bite, definitely a love bite!"

"I thought he was single?"

"Tooru, tell us who, please."

There were photos everywhere, different angles taken of him at the event, and excited comments and re-shares from fans who spotted the undeniable mark on his skin.

Defeated, Tooru plopped down on the couch and turned off his phone. He'll deal with all the chaos tomorrow.

He closed his eyes, trying not to think too much about it, but his heart raced when he was flushed with the memory of how he got them.

Just on cue, he heard the doors unlocked.

The culprit is here.

“Wakatoshi! ”He called out as he walked in.

"What's up, ba--"

His easy smile disappeared the moment he saw the look on his face, followed by a shoe flying at him, which he barely dodged.

"Did you even think of telling me you left a mark behind my neck?” he demanded, already holding the other shoe in his hand.

"I didn’t realize it would be so visible,” he explained, trying to act innocent.

"Is that your excuse?” he shot back. "Do you have any idea about the uproar you've created? "

Wakatoshi thought for a moment, and his eyes widen when he realizes what might have happened, but the surprise doesn't last long.

"Just tell them it was me," he smirked.

"I just told all of them that we were only friends!"

Which Tooru did when he was in an interview, and was asked about the photos of them together that were posted by paparazzis.

They were only friends.

A week ago.

Wakatoshi shrugged. "Friends kiss each other all the time, right?"

Another shoe came flying in his direction, only this time it was a bullseye.

[skylarmoon71]

Luther Wainwright: (The Mentalist) - Chapter 4

He thought for sure it would take longer, but you’d come back after two days completely neutral. You reported to him, spoke to him.

It was as if the whole thing didn’t happen.

That’s when he realized it.

Your approach was to just put it behind you and move on.

He expected nothing less.

There was nothing he could do about the matter, so he decided to focus on his job. It was the only thing he had that could squash the bitter feelings in his chest.

~

“Jane, I need your help.”

When you pulled him to the side, he could tell it was serious. He’s not oblivious to the tension. For the last couple days you haven’t so much as spared a glance in Wainwright’s direction. You’ve also started to take the stairs every morning from the sound of your winded breathing when you come in sometimes.

You’ve become cautious, careful. Jane is positive he knows why.

“What’s wrong?”

“I..I need you to hypnotize me.”

There’s a subtle look of confusion, then recognition.

“You want to forget about Wainwright.”

You nod, pulling at the bottom of your shirt.

“I have to do this job, I can’t do that knowing what I do. I need to forget, I have too.”

“You don’t mean that.”

You stammer.

“W-What are you talking about of course I do!”

“You think that’s the right decision, but I’m sure you realize that’s wrong. If you didn’t share those feelings you would have been able to easily look past it. If you forget, you’ll regret it forever.”

“Jane please.”

You’re begging and he shakes his head, taking your hand.

“I’m sorry but I can’t.”

It takes a lot for him to walk away, especially with you in that state. But he does, sending you a sympathetic smile.

You stand there, defeated. Jane was the only viable option.

What exactly are you supposed to do now?

Quit, change units?

No.

Wainwright is the one who started this mess. You shouldn’t have to pay for it. You just need to work.

Work will keep you grounded.

It has too.

For the next couple days, that’s what you do.

“Remember, just get him talking, we don’t have much on him so we can’t take him in. We just need to stall until Rigsby and Vanpelt find some evidence.”

You’ve done this more than once, so you don’t get why she’s being so overly cautious.

“I got it boss, I’m going in.”

So you did.

For the most part you did have it under control. The problem was he’d been trying to grope you all evening. Towards the end Lisbon had given you the signal. They found the weapon, as well as the bloodied clothes. So you were about to leave. With a friendly smile you made an excuse about needing to go because you were getting tipsy. You left the bar, and he’d followed you out.

At this point he was holding your wrist.

“I really should get going, Vince.”

“Come on sweetheart, don’t be like that, let's have some fun.”

His hand gropes your butt and that feels like the last straw. You spin around, landing a harsh blow. His head whips to the side, and you reach into your pocket, pulling out your cuffs.

“CBI, you’re under arrest.”

You shove him against a car just as Lisbon and Jane break the corner.

“She punched me in the nose!”

“You grabbed my butt, that’s assault.”

Jane is smiling as you restrain Vince. Lisbon takes over, sending you a look.

“Are you sure you’re okay (L/N)?”

“Yes, why wouldn’t I be?”

She says nothing, just nods, taking the idiot away.

“Nice hook.” Jane compliments.

Of course he would enjoy that.

After that, everything just falls in place. He’s being booked and it’s not even 4pm yet. 

Another win.

On to the next case.

“I think you should take the rest of the day off.” Lisbon says.

That’s not what you wanted to hear.

“What! Why? Because I sucker punched the guy? He’s a moron and a killer.”

“Yesterday you drop-kicked a suspect.”

“He had a knife!” You defend.

“Be that as it may, it's obvious that you have some things to sort out. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You can’t believe it. She’s benching you for doing your job. With a grumble, you pull your jacket off the back of your chair as you walk away angrily.

The days just seem to go from bad to worse lately.

~~

There’s a soft knock on the door. For a moment you assume it’s Lisbon, coming to give you a pep talk or inquire about what has you so agitated.

When you open the door, the last person you expected to see at your door late that night is Wainwright.

Although given your behavior lately you aren’t surprised.

“Sir, is there something I can help you with?”

You should remain professional.

“I’m just doing a wellness check, can I come in?”

You should scream no and slam the door in his face, but that will surely cause you to get fired. You’re on thin ice as it is.

“Come in.”

He enters, and you suddenly become aware that you’re not exactly sporting an outfit appropriate for company. You’re just in a baggy t-shirt. It’s long enough to hide the fact that you’re only wearing underwear.

“Agent Lisbon informed me of some incidents lately. Should I be concerned?”

You frown.

“No sir, everything is under control.”

“Really, because usually I don’t get complaints about my agents dropping kicking witnesses, or punching them in the nose.”

“He came at me first, I just reacted.”

“A drop kick seems more than excessive.”

“What exactly would you suggest I do then? Just let him jump me with a knife!”

It didn’t take a genius to see that you were annoyed. Wainwright stepped closer, eyes a bit worried.

“Is there something I should know about? Is everything alright (L/N)?”

The soft way he was now speaking just added to your frustration. It’s unfair. He has no right to look at you like that. Like he’d face the most awful criminal just to protect you.

“This is all your fault, why the hell did you have to tell me about your feelings! I even tried to get Jane to hypnotize me so I’d forget about it. All I can think about now is you and it’s driving me crazy. How am I supposed to do my job like this?!”

Confessing all of this was the last thing you should be doing, especially to your boss.

“Slow down, did you say you tried to get Jane to hypnotize you?”

You felt stupid.

Taking a step back you wrapped your arms around yourself protectively.

“I was fine when you were just this mean superior face we had to report to. Why the hell did you have to say anything to make that change..”

You look defeated, and he feels guilty.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t good enough.”

He knows that nothing he can say will make up for what has already been said. He sees the tears and it adds to his turmoil.

“Please, please don’t cry, I can't..”

He can’t deal with it, seeing you so hurt. Against his better judgment he moves in and you’re caught off guard when he hugs you. You should offer some resistance, but his hands wrapped so protectively around your body is heavenly. You’ve always prided yourself on being strong, independent. When he holds you, you feel like you can lower that guard. His hand slides down your back and you return the embrace.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry (Y/N).”

He keeps apologizing and you feel like you’re going to fall apart all over again.

This is his fault, so why are you feeling sorry for him? You’re the one in a shitty position. The one who’ll be judged if anyone found out. You’ve worked hard to get where you are. He more than anyone should understand that.

You should hate him for putting you in this situation.

Yet..

As you pull away, you look at him. Truly look at him.

His eyes hold such tenderness that warms you. Jane’s words are engraved in your mind. You know deep down he’s right. If you didn’t return those feelings this would have easily been brushed aside. Some part of you must feel this attraction, that’s why it’s so hard for you.

When you look at him, he almost forgets about it all. The fact that the last thing he should be doing is touching you so softly. There’s too much temptation standing here in your home. He should leave. You look calmer. He’s done his job.

“I should leave.”

You seem to collect yourself, and you nod.

He’s still awfully close.

“Of course, have a safe trip back home sir.”

Sir.

Why does that suddenly irritate him? It’s the distance, it has to be. That word is built on professionalism. Something that he’d very much like to get rid of right now. His hand brushes your cheek and you look up.

“Sir..?”

“Stop calling me that.”

He doesn’t voice those words. He wouldn’t dare too, but he wishes at that moment that he was someone else. He wishes he could get you to indulge his fantasy, but it would be wrong. You’re still vulnerable. You rely on him, he shouldn’t.

“Luther.”

That name surprises him, and he’s about to say something, but you pull him in. Eyebrows rising he nearly jumps out of his skin. It must be an illusion. There’s no way that you’re actually kissing him.

Not a second after he registers it, he’s kissing you back. His hands tighten on your waist and you gasp when he backs you into the wall. Everything about him exudes strength and you’re shocked yourself when you grab his free hand and press it against your chest. He squeezes and you moan, opening your mouth for him to explore. He takes the invitation happily. You’re both barely apart long enough to catch a proper breath. He’s touching everything, exploring everything. You barely process it when his hand finds its way under your shirt.

Another hand slides between your legs and you finally get yourself to pull away to level your breathing. He still has you against the wall and you’re looking at him with a hint of awe and lust. He takes it in. He knows it’s wrong, but he loves the fact that you’re so rattled by him. So responsive. You're gripping at his shoulder.

“L-Luther..”

You sound so desperate. He never thought it would sound this good, coming from your lips.

“I’m sorry.”

He’s still apologizing, because he’s the one that should have walked away. He’d accept any hateful words you would have right now.

When you look at him, hate is the last emotion you feel. You’re just so lost on how you never realized before. His eyes emit an attraction that was more than just physical. How have you been around him for this long and never once suspected it? Better yet, how has he been able to function with these feelings all this time. Any other person would have broken down much sooner. But he’d probably talked himself into it everyday. Maintaining the mask. Keeping a front. Protecting himself. The same way you were determined to shelter yourself from any pain.

Right now, there’s only one thing you both need more than anything.

“Don’t stop Luther.”

He shakes his head.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do.”

He presses his hand to the wall as he finally releases you, burying his face into your shoulder.

“Please don’t say it..if you don’t mean it."

You’ve never seen this man vulnerable.

Taking his cheeks in your hands, you lift his head. His eyes search for it, that fear, or maybe even disgust. All you do is smile.

You really were blind.

“If you stop now I won’t forgive you.”

An empty threat that brings him comfort.

You squeal when he picks you up, and you hold on, staring at him.

“Please don’t let this be a dream.”

His words seem to have become more honest. You just kiss him, and he responds, heading straight for your room. 

[mylastleaves]

yesterday you were the defeated, but what will you become tomorrow?

[i-like-forcefem]

You and Miss-Gender have been fighting each other since you were a newbie on in the hero foundation, your super strength giving you a chance to become the A-rank hero you dreamed to be

Miss-Gender has been pestering you since your first day as an F-rank, she got the same ranking as you though and in the many years since then neither of your ranks increased, turns out strength isn’t all that useful if your opponent is dancing circles around you while dressing you up in a princess dress

And given how much you get humiliated by this single F-rank you’ve yet to get permission to get close to any D-ranks, let stand fight them… You’re clearly struggling enough as is

And though you’ve faught a handful of other F-ranks and unnamed goons, Miss-Gender has been by far your most common opponent, nearly ever day she’d string you up, dress you up in one embarrassing outfit or another, do your make up

you’ve never even landed a single punch on her, but she must’ve gently touched your face tens of thousands of times by now… all while giving you so many sweet compliments, she even touched your… hero bits, more then you’ve been able to willingly touch any part of her…

You never caught her, she always escaped before backup arrived (but she always managed to make you look “adorable” before your peers made it) and she also never even fought anyone other then you, when pressed she said “I just like to take my time playing with my dolls!”

But B-rank hero Gatemaster, the most renowned hero in the country, second to only 3 A-rank heroes world wide, his monstrously powerful space bending abilities able to defeat any foe, saw that this F-rank somehow managed to evade capture for this long and decided its time someone helped out!

He personally sent you a message to that effect a two weeks ago! But given how fast teleporting hero’s tend to act and since you haven’t heard of him since you assumed he probably got busy with important hero business, maybe a new A-rank villain popped up?

But… then you heard the news that he was found in a ditch wearing a ballerina outfit, hands and feet bound behind his back, after removing the gag all he could say was “I’m a pretty girl” over and over and over again

“I’m a pretty girl, I’m a pretty girl, I’m a pretty girl”

It seemed like his tears had long run dry

You never even knew if Miss-Gender had any special abilities… but you’re suddenly feeling a lot less insecure about how easily she’s made a fool of you so far… while also suddenly feeling a lot less age about what she’s been able to do to someone so much more powerful then you… in just 2 weeks???

As you contemplate the new information you see a letter slide under your door, it has her logo on it…

To my dearest adorable little Doll,

We’ve been playing together for a while now, and it has been so so fun! Truly my favourite memories are all of times spent with you cutie and I can’t thank you enough

But something funny happened yesterday and it made me realise just how wonderful it feels to make someone come to terms with who they really are! How great it feels to finish a project!

So I’ll stop playing with you now, I’ve been doing this for fun until now and I’m sorry for that, to make up for it tomorrow I’ll do everything in my power to make you finally accept yourself

Love and kisses,

Miss-Gender <3

Your nemesis has been reclassified as an A-Class, meaning he can't fight you anymore...