#I have to make a joke about this otherwise I'm gonna punch something

[just-a-random-second-blog]

At least there is some respect for the Simpsons canon?

[scorpioriesling]

Can you make one where y/n is xaden's sister (obviously) and she is in a relationship with garrick (which xaden approves of) and they both got into a fight because Garrick is too strict in his role of being Xaden's right hand man and also violets new appointed bodyguard and doesn't give her enough time (she's also pregnant and she's hiding it from all of them) and one day there will be a slip up and Xaden is the first to find out she's pregnant. You can make it however you like from here

Can you make it super angsty in the beginning and a very fluffy ending?? Please (not being anonymous because you already know I am going to make a request lol)

Go Easy On Me

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Pairing(s): Garrick x reader

Warning(s): angst, fluff, mentions of pregnancy and violence

Summary: You didn't figure your brother's girlfriend would turn to you with the bigges secret of her life; but, you knew from that point on, you'd do what needed to be done to protect her and it.

SR’s Note: Guys this turned out so FKN CUTE OMG, who knew I could still write things other than just smut? All jokes, all jokes; but seriously, you're gonna love this one. Maybe not as much as me though.

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @velarisdusk @nctsawrus @lreadsstuff @freakishfandomfiend @desprrssooo-espresssooooo

(inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

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Your brow furrowed as you approached the training room, hearing thr loud shouting from inside. Pushing the door open, you realized it was more grunting than shouting; and sure enough, it was coming from just who you thought.

"Harder, Sorrengail!"

You watched as your brother's girlfriend threw another punch at your boyfriend, who stood more than an entire head taller than her. Her clenched fist connected with his gloved hands, and the sound of skin-meeting-mat echoed in the otherwise empty training room.

"You're not using your upper body. You have to use your upper body like I told you-"

"I'm using all I've got!"

You flinched as her angry words filled the space, raising your eyebrows at her defiance. You swallowed, only anticipating what your boyfriend would say next to her. You figured he'd get all moody, like he always did; but, instead, he just sighed and lowered his mits.

"We'll resume tomorrow." He said, his chin dipping as he yanked the gloves off. Violet's shoulders shook as she inhaled, over and over as though she was gasping for air. You gazed on pitifully as she stalked off the mat, only now noticing you leaned up against the wall.

"Riorson," she greeted, and you smiled casually.

"Sorrengail." She sighed, and you flicked your eyes toward the hallway. "Do we need to chat?"

Her eyes widened before she nodded, pressing open the door to the hall. You glanced back at Garrick, then followde her out when you confirmed he was still putting training equipment away.

She walked a few feet from the training room entrance and sighed, leaning against the wall. Your mouth turned down as you anxiously waited for her to start talking.

"I'm so glad you always listen to me ramble," she began, setting her hands on her knees and leaning forward. "Not that Xaden isn't a good listener, but... he just has no idea."

You allow her to finish before you speak.

"Hey, I mean... I totally get it. I grew up with the guy," you chuckle. She looks up, her eyes meeting yours as you continue. "But, that doesn't mean he can't be talked to."

She nods. "Right, right."

You wait a few beats before pressing further. "Is there... something you need to talk about?"

She lets out a long breath as her thumb and forefinger move to pinch the bridge of her nose.

"Well... yes. There is one thing."

✧･ﾟ: *

You met up with Garrick after he left the training room, opting to walk back with him to his dorm instead of facing boredom in your own. You'd always preferred his dorm to your own; his was more spacious, darker in color, and without a roommate.

"I'm just saying she needs to listen if she's going to be ready for battle," he drones on, and for what feels like the hundredth time, you roll your eyes.

"Garrick, I get it -- as her bodyguard, and Xaden's right hand man, you want her to perform at a certain level-"

"Yeah, a level I know she can get to. You did -- why should it be any different for her?" He says, looking sidelong at you. The setting sun cast and orangey glow across the panes of his face, and you couldn't help but admire.

After a few beats of silence, you made sure to choose your words carefully.

"Garrick; I appreciate all you do, and so does my brother -- and I think you know that," you say, your fingers reaching for his as you continue the walk. "All I'm saying is... we never know what people have going on in their personal lives, so, maybe... cut her some slack?"

He huffs a laugh, his fingers squeezing and releasing yours.

"What else would she have going on right now? There's so much work to be done in preparation; and I don't think your brother hired me to 'take it easy' on his girlfriend," he argued. You sighed, dropping his hand in favor of crossing your arms. "What, did he tell you something I should know about?"

You turned to him and glared. "No, he did not -- and even if he did, it wouldn't be my place to air it all out to you. You're his friend and Violet's bodyguard -- not mine."

You stomped angrily toward the dorm building, your brooding boyfriend trailing behind. When you reached the entrance, your fingers closed arond the door handle, and Garrick's fingers gently laid atop yours on it.

"No, I'm not your bodyguard," he said softly. You turned to face him, and your heart clenched at his pained expression. "But, I am your boyfriend, and I'd protect you as though I was."

✧･ﾟ: *

"Riorson, let's go."

Professor Emmetario called you forward, and you awaited the announcement of your personal trainer for the day. Usually, he'd partner you and Imogen -- but, with her gone on a mission, you were curious who you'd get.

"Tavis, take the mat."

Your brows rose as your boyfriend stalked toward you, a surprised expression on his face.

"Bit of a conflict of interest, but... I'll allow it this once." Emmetario gave you a knowing smile, and you simply shrugged.

It was quiet for a few moments, you and your boyfriend gazing at one another. The only sounds around you were the other older cadets training with the younger ones. He broke the silence a few beats later.

"I suppose we'll start with daggers this morning," he said. You smirked.

"Oh come on, Garrick -- give me a challenge."

He rolled his eyes.

"Just grab what you need and don't sass me, Riorson. Gods, you sound so much like your brother."

A smile crept onto your face at that as you took a few of your favorite blades from the rack, making your way toward the target boards. Flipping a few over in your hands, you glanced sidelong at Garrick.

"No Violet, today?" Usually, Emmetario would keep training partners the same; the only real difference today were a few riders missing that had gone on the mission. Garrick shrugged.

"She told me this morning she needed to stay in bed; sick or something," he guessed. Your heart sank as you remembered what she'd discussed with you last week, her secret she entrusted you with. Your breathing hollowed as you worked to maintain your composure; but, as always, your boyfriend clocked that something was off.

"Is everything okay?" He asks softly, moving to stand directly before you. "Because if there's something I need to know-"

"No! No Garrick, it's fine." You said sharply. He flinched as though you'd just slapped him, his brows narrowing before he took a deep breath.

"Fine, fine. But you know if there is something... Xaden did trust me to look after her while he's gone. So... if there is something I should know, you need to tell me." He said sternly. You nudged his chest, recentering yourself before the human-shaped targets ahead.

"Right, yeah -- can I get to throwing these now?" You said. Garrick leveled a look at you before sucking in a large gust of air, moving aside to allow you to throw.

"Have at it."

The first two daggers hit on either side of the target's chest, but you began to lose focus as you attempted to aim for the shape's stomach.

Violet. Violet. Violet.

Your brow furrowed as you launched the blade, however it struck just outside the body's outline. Sighing, you threw another.

Miss.

And another.

Miss again.

You growled in frustration as you trudged toward the targets, bending to yank the sharps from the wood. When you returned back to your position, Garrick pushed off the wall and walked up to you.

"I see you're having struggles," he said calmly, his abdomen pressing against your back. His hands slid down your arms to cover your fingers with his, gripping the blade as one.

"You'll want to keep your arm close to you when you throw," he explained, drawing your arm back with his. "And, keep your core engaged so your aim rings true."

Your breathing hitched as his other hand wrapped around your midsection, pressing against your lower stomach. You were pressed flat against him now; and even after all this time, the feeling still gave you butterflies.

"Alright, draw back..." he pulled your arm up.

"And, release."

You flung the dagger, and sure enough -- it landed right in the center of the target. He chuckled, leaning down to kiss your forehead. You felt a pang of excitement, but your stomach sank when you thought about Violet again.

"Nice!" He congradulated, his hands releasing you. He backed up, playfully swatting your butt before folding his muscled arms over his chest. Your head swiveled to look at him in shock, but he only grinned at you.

"Garrick!"

"Now you try," he encouraged, his gaze only faltering from your face for a second as his gaze ran over the length of your body. You scowled, though your mind had fully come back to the present.

"If I keep getting this treatment," you taunted. "Maybe I'll mess up every time."

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head as a small smile spread across his lips. You liked seeing him like this; happy, unassuming, calm. Such an opposition to the usually tough and demanding demeanor he used with Violet.

You reared your arm back, breath wooshing from you when you let go of the handle. Sure enough -- the blade splintered the wood right alongside your previous throw.

Garrick nodded in approval, clapping loudly twice.

"Now that's my girl."

✧･ﾟ: *

Garrick paced back and forth in his dorm as he awaited Xaden's arrival. You could tell he was anxious; but, no matter how many times you tried to get him to sit beside you on the bed, he declined.

"He's gonna be pissed. Surely pissed," he mumbled, his fingers rubbing his chin. You sighed, running your fingers through your undone braid.

"You don't know that," you said softly. Garrick glanced at you, huffing.

"He left me in charge of Violet for the time being, and she's spent more time alone in her dorm than training and preparing like he asked for," he rants, his steps increading in speed. "Not to mention, it's been going on for weeks now. So yeah... I'm sure your brother will be more than pissed off."

In that moment, the door to the slepeing quarters opened. Your brother stood in the doorway, the light bending around him as he stepped through. You instantly hopped from the bed, trotting over and throwing your arms around your big brother.

"Xaden!" You chirped excitedly as he squeezed you with enough force to crush your ribs. "I'm so glad you're okay."

He pulled back, smiling grimly.

"Physically I am more than alright -- it was being out on the isle for a month and a half that did me in," he explained, running a hand through his hair.

"Bet you got a nice tan though, didn't you?" Garrick teased, and Xaden quickly crossed the room to him. He pulled him in, clapping him on the back as he laughed.

"Oh, the best tan," he joked back, and you re-took your position on Garrick's bed. Your brother glanced around the room, leveling a confused look on his best friend.

"Say... where's Vi?"

Garrick's brows knit in confusion.

"You haven't seen her yet?"

Xaden's face went placid.

"No... figured she'd be here. With you."

Garrick sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Well, that's actually what I needed to talk to you about."

Xaden's brow rose a fraction of an inch, and he folded his arms.

"So talk. Did something happen to her?"

Garrick laughed dryly. "I thought maybe you'd know -- don't you guys have that, weird, mind-to-mind thing?"

Xaden huffed, beginning to pace himself.

"Yeah, but it's been cut off for weeks. Being outside the wards didn't help, but she definately has her shields up... I haven't been able to figure out why," he explains. Garrick shrugs, shaking his head.

"I don't know man, she's been hiding out in her room, missing classes and training, and-"

"Wait. She's been missing classes?" Xaden asks, alarm creeping into his voice. "What the Hell do you mean?"

Garrick shrugs. "Exactly what I just said. She's been sleeping more, not coming to training days, barely leaving her dorm-"

"And you didn't think any of this was worthy of telling me?" Your brothers voice rose in octive as he halted his pacing. Garrick tutted.

"How was I supposed to get that message to you when you were outside the wards?" Garrick asked in exasperation. "If you recall, I dont have a mind-to-mind pathway like you and Violet do; I'm not linked to you in that way, thank God." He muttered the last part. You hopped off the bed when Xaden grabbed his bets friend by the shirt collar, getting in his face.

"I don't give a fuck how you got it to me, I should've known that-"

"Hey! Stop, stop," you interjected, wiggling between the two in an attempt at a separation. Xaden's grip on Garrick loosened a bit, but Garrick stared back at him with nothing short of unfiltered rage. You put both hands on your brother's chest, shoving him back to a point where he was forced to release his hold on Garrick. He staggered to regain his balance, still glaring at your brother.

You turned to him, peering up into those usually wonderful brown eyes.

"Garrick, hey -- let me try and talk to him for a second, okay?"

Garrick's face softened as he looked down at you, the warmth returning to his hard stare. You brushed your fingers along his forearm, and pressed onto your tip toes to kiss his cheek.

"Just give me a few minutes?"

He sighed, shaking his head slowly before agreeing.

"Fine. But I'll be just outside."

You nodded as he stalked toward the door, yanking it open while he grumbled and griped about being kicked out of his own dorm. Xaden however, regained a leash on his rage, masking it in his usual lethal calm.

Turning to him, you sighed.

"Did you really feel the need to do all that?"

He scoffed, looking at the wall.

"Deserved it."

You rolled your eyes, walking closer to him.

"You don't really think Garrick of all people deserves the other end of your fury." You reasoned, and your brother finally looked at you.

"You'd understand if it was him in danger, and the person you sent to watch after him was-"

"He's not just a person, Xaden. He's your best friend," you pleaded. "You aren't really mad at him, are you? This is about Violet -- not the two of you."

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair once more. "Yeah, it is. But he's supposed to be helping me, and in doing that he shouldn't be letting her rot away in her room but instead making her stronger-"

"Wait. Who said anything about rotting away?" You asked. Xaden's eyes widened.

"Garrick did, genius! He literally just said she's missing classes and avoiding training to sit alone in her bed all the time," he gripes, throwing his hands wide. "What the Hell else am I supposed to think?"

You frowned at him. "I think you put way too much on him; again, he's your best friend. Not your soldier," you reason, which seems to only ignite your brother more.

"Exactly! Which is why I trust him this; I trust him with you, I trusted him with Violet-"

"Again, friend. Not employee."

Xaden's jaw ticked. "Of course you'd defend his actions; you're so caught up in what the two of you have, you don't think twice how it could affect me-"

You breathed out sharply, waving your arms in anger.

"Xaden, if you'd just shut up for one single second and look at what you have, you'd realize that what your girlfriend needs right now is not to be pushed to the fucking brink at training, it's a supportive boyfriend that puts his girlfriend and their baby's needs above everything else!" You said with a shout.

The room fell absolutely silent.

Your brother stared at you.

Heaving, you stared back.

His eyes glazed over, as though he was processing everything you just divulged to him.

You gulped, lowering your arms as regret sank in and you realized what you just confessed. A rash of angry red spread across your chest as panic gripped your gut with it's long talons, squeezing and twisting every organ inside of you.

Xaden's gaze refocused, and he looked to you in shame.

"She's... pregnant?" He asked, his voice just above a whisper. Tears stung the back of your eyes as you nodded, stepping toward him to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I... Xaden, I didn't mean for you to find out this way, oh Gods," a single tear fell, and your brother's eyes locked onto it as it slid down your cheek. He reached up, wiping it away before pulling you into a somber embrace.

"She's... pregnant," he said slowly, processing the gravity of the words. A small sob racked your body as you cried against your brother's flight jacket. He reached up, petting the back of your head affectionately. The two of you stood there in the quiet, the only noises being your little cries as you worked to regain your composure. When he pulled back, holding you at arm's length, you looked to him through teary eyes.

"Y/N... I don't even know what to say," he said, his own eyes glassy. "How long have you known?"

You sniffled, wiping your nose with your sleeve.

"Right after you left, I think she... found out, and told me and... I know she wanted to tell you herself, and now I've gone and ruined it-"

He pulled you in again as another sob escaped your throat, wrapping his arms completely around you in an attempt to calm you down.

"Hey, hey, you ruined nothing Y/N," he soothed, rubbing a hand down your back. "I'm glad she felt comfortable sharing that with you, especially with me not beign here for her."

His saddened tone forced you to stand upright once more, and looking up at him you saw only regret in his stare.

"Xaden -- you can't blame yourself for doing your duty," you expressed. "Besides, you're here now, shouldn't you go to her? Talk about it?"

He nodded slowly, pulling you in one last time for an embrace.

"You've always been the wise one, you know that?" He chuckled, resting his chin atop your head. "Pisses me off a bit that you're the younger sibling; but, I'll get over it."

You laughed a watery laugh, sniffling as you pulled away from him. Your hand wrapped securely around his elbow, and you pulled him toward the doorway.

"C'mon, lets go see this new momma."

✧･ﾟ: *

8 Months Later

"Okay, okay -- please just be careful with her head," Violet worries as Xaden hands the tiny pink bundle off to his best friend. The overhead lights have been turned off, per Violet's request; as well as the cutrains drawn, allowing in the natual sunlight to illuminate the room.

"I got it, I got it," Garrick assures, placing his hands just beneath the baby's head and back. He brings her close to his chest, snuggling and cooing down at her.

"Just like we practiced," he glances to you, and you give him a wink. Just like we practiced.

"So, have you guys chosen a name yet?" You asked, the intrigue eating away at you at the lack of knowing. Garrick rocked the little girl in his arms, smiling down at her. You looked to your brother, who watched on with wet eyes at the sight. Violet, however turned to you.

"Well, we were thinking something that held meaning to the both of us," she explained, and suddenly the tiny girl began to cry. Garrick's eyes widened in shock as he looked between the three of you.

"I did nothing! I swear!"

You chuckled as you rose from the small sofa, striding toward him to take the precious thing. Her wails tapered off, only small sniffles crinkling that precious face. Garrick passed her with utmost care, and you held her securely in your arms.

"She must prefer her aunt to her uncle," Xaden teases, and Garrick rolls his eyes.

"Or, she's like me and prefer's Y/N's touch."

You grin at him, and he kisses the top of your head as his fingers trail along your spine. You remain focused on the little one, watchign as her brows unforrow and she falls steadily back to sleep.

"Anyway," Violet continues, drawing the attention in the room back to her words. "We feel like we've come up with a good one."

Garrick shrugs. "Let's hear it."

Xaden smiles as he watches you with his daughter, realizing how lucky he is to have three of the most special girls in his life be right within his little family. Violet looks to him, encouraging him to announce the name.

"We're going to call her, Y/N Mira Riorson."

Your heart clenches as you look up, your eyes brimming with emotion. Xaden and Violet look thoughtfully to you, and a single tear slips free when you gaze back down at the wonderful little thing.

"Y/N," you say quietly, brushing her soft little cheek with your finger. "It's so nice to finally meet you."

✧･ﾟ: *

[alchemistc]

Everything's so damn dark when the blindfold slips off that for a second she can't see a thing.

Don't panic. Don't scream. Don't hurt the baby.

Something groans at her feet and she startles straight into the pipe behind her head.

"'lo?" A voice asks, familiar enough to give her pause, and she wonders for a moment if this is a joke, if this is a trick, if this - "s'there?"

His words are slurred. A concussion, maybe, then. Great. Biggest man she knows and he's gonna be a useless pile of puke to her.

Don't panic, Maddie reminds herself, and then she starts giggling.

"Tommy?"

He groans an affirmative.

"Oh good. I feel a lot better about getting overpowered, now."

A hand grabs for her ankle and Maddie bites back a scream. It's Tommy's hand, big and warm and - fully unbound, which feels a little unfair. "Cunt drugged me," he says, then pauses. Squeezes her ankle. "Sorry for the language."

"No, it's, uh - I think it's warranted this time."

Maddie can't remember exactly how it'd happened to her. Had she been hit? Is she injured? She does a mental tally. Her lip feels swollen. Nose and eyes feel fine, though, so maybe she bit it? Neck, shoulders, all good. She's been bending her elbows and wrists just fine, she just doesn't have the leverage to do anything about the zip ties keeping her affixed to the probably pipe behind her. Hips, legs, knees. She wiggles her toes and in the darkness Tommy chuckles. "Everything accounted for?"

He must have done his own check while she was working through hers. She can hear him rustling around. "I'm still incredibly mad at you, but it's nice to hear your voice," she says, and Tommy goes still. "Tommy? All good?"

"...why are you mad at me?"

"Like you don't know?" Oh. Actually maybe she is more mad than she is glad. "You broke my brother's heart, idiot. I don't have any more room in my entire house for the coping mechanism he's come up with." She kicks, a little. Tommy grunts and shifts. "I hope that hit something painful and non-essential to our escape."

"He's - he'll be fine."

"What exactly is your definition of fine? Because it's been a few months and he's still bringing me baked goods on a bi-weekly basis."

"Bi-weekly like -."

"Do not get pedantic on me, Kinard. Two times a week. What's your status? Moving parts all still moving?"

"I think my balls have taken a vacation, but that's more a reflection on how terrifying you are than on this current situation."

Flippant. Sarcasm in the face of Maddie trying to get a full picture. Buck had called him funny and charming. Maddie's second kick doesn't land, but only because he's got a hand wrapped around her foot. "Once we're out of here, I'm gonna punch you in the face."

He hums. "For the balls comment, or the cunt thing?"

Maddie shrugs. Remembers that he can't see it. "Which part of 'broke my brother's heart' are you not getting?"

He sounds like he's moving gingerly. She can hear heavy bulky fabric rustle and she wonders if he's in three layers like usual. She could use something warm. "I - figured he'd be over it by now."

Maddie snorts. If she had to make a guess, Tommy glowers at the noise. "Dumbass."

And then it hits her. "The cunt? Skinny, brunette, pretty? Kind of...angular face?"

Tommy hums and takes her weight as she tries to kick again. "Sounds like her."

"Oh, Buck's gonna be pissed and embarrassed. She's rebound attempt number two."

Tommy's silent long enough that Maddie has to check in. He hums, and goes back to silence. "Rebound attempt?"

"If you hadn't noticed, we've actually been kidnapped, so maybe I can save your relationship afterwards?"

"I think she was trying to kill me," Tommy admits. "Otherwise why am I unbound in this shitty Saw knockoff?"

Maddie feels some extra pieces dropping into place. Oh, Buck is never gonna live this down actually.

"Can you overpower her if she comes in?"

"If she's not quick to try to drug me again. If I can figure out where the fucking door is. If -."

"A yes or no is fine. Pretty sure she's the Bay Butcher, if that helps you answer."

His pause is long. "...maybe," he says, and accepts the kick this time without block or protest.

[ripdragonbeans]

Not Him, I Swear // Modern!Aegon II x Reader // Pt. 4

Summary: You meet with Aegon after your date. Feelings and truths are revealed.

CW: afab reader, profanity, eventual smut, oh Aegon has feelings??????

Dreams of Shrek and Aegon danced in your head that night. Donkey frolicked through flowers and Puss in Boots was on his back. You held Aegon’s hand as you followed Donkey, wanting to see what kind of mischief he was going to get into. The dream was sweet and fun until it morphed into something else.

Aegon was laughing at you. He tugged you close to him and he tilted your face up by your chin. “I can't believe you fell for it. You think I'd actually like you?”

You shook your head. “What?”

“It's a game. Always has been. I'd never actually go out with you. You're a joke.” He laughed maniacally as he pushed you away.

The force of the push was enough to land you on your butt. You wrapped your arms around yourself and looked up at the one you thought cared for you.

“Why?” You needed an answer.

“Because it's fun.” Aegon turned around and disappeared into a mist.

Donkey and Puss in Boots had left while Aegon was laughing at you. It was just you in the field. You were alone.

Gasping for breath you sat up straight and held your chest. It wasn't real. There was no field, no Donkey and Puss in Boots, and it wasn't a game. You know it isn't. In your heart you know what you have with Aegon isn't fake but your brain seems to say otherwise.

“I don't know if I can keep this up, man,” Aegon said to Cregan.

The two guys were lounging in the living room of the frat house. There was a party the night before so trash was strewn everywhere and the stink of weed and alcohol still wafted through the air. 

“Don't tell me you actually feel bad for the chick,” Cregan said as he punched on his breakfast. “She's just another girl, nothing new. This isn't like you.”

“Maybe I am actually starting to fall for her.”

“If you wanna give up, fine. That means I win the bet.”

Aegon cursed under his breath. On one hand, he wanted to give up the bet, to truly try to be with you. But on the other hand, his pride wouldn't let him throw away the bet.

A smirk appeared on Cregan’s face. “You’re not gonna give up on the bet, are you?”

“No,” Aegon said through clenched teeth.

“Good luck. You have three days left.”

“It was weird, Hel.” You were telling Helaena all about your dream. “It was fun at first but then it got dark real quick.”

“I mean…” Helaena trailed off. “I'm sorry but I wouldn't be surprised if your brain is correct and Aegon is just playing you.”

Your mouth dropped. “How could you say that?!”

“I don't mean to be rude, I'm just being honest, sweetie.”

“She's right,” came Jace’s voice from the hallway.

After you woke up from your strange dream turned nightmare, you made your way to the kitchen to find Helaena fixing up breakfast. It was a comfort in contrast to what your mind had just decided to make up. 

You smiled. “Hey, Jace.”

“How’d the date go?” He asked you.

A flush appeared on your cheeks. “It was the best! Shrek 2 is always fun and,” you paused for dramatic effect. “I got high!”

Jace’s brows furrowed. “And that's a good thing?”

“I tried something I've never done before! I took a leap and enjoyed it a lot.”

“Do you remember anything about the date?” Questioned Helaena.

“I remember having fun. Nothing happened except seeing the movie and getting high. Oh, the popcorn was to die for. It was so good! I wanted an Icee but Aegon said no. He took care of me last night.”

Helaena nodded her head but looked suspicious. “I just find it weird that my brother is acting like this.”

“Hel, why can't you just be happy for me?”

“Because, sweetie, I don't want you to get hurt. I've seen what Aegon can do to girls and I don't want that to happen to you. Not after what you've been through.”

Pouting, you thought about your past and Jason. You were so quick to give everything to him and yet he turned around and tossed you away as though you were nothing. The mere thought of it happening again terrified you. “I told you I'm not going to rush into this relationship and I mean it.”

Jace sighed. “Hey, remember what I said? I heard there might be a bet going on. I'd just be really cautious.”

Your heart hopped into your throat. “I refuse to believe that,” you croaked out. “I'm not some play toy.” You got up and left the kitchen to go to the guest room, sure to close the door a little louder than usual.

“Your sister and Jace are being downers so I figured I'd hit you up,” You texted Aegon.

“Sucks that they're acting like that. We're the best looking couple,” He replied.

You smiled at the text. With his history you've always wondered if you two would actually make a good looking couple. It was an insecurity of yours. Thankfully, Aegon put that to rest. Your phone buzzed.

“Wanna meet up? We can walk downtown or something.”

“Sure :)”

You put your phone down and went back into the kitchen only to find Jace and Helaena speaking in hushed voices. You stopped behind a corner to listen to them.

“I think this bet that's going on is real,” Jace said. “I overheard Cregan talking to someone else about it. Apparently they think they're gonna win.”

“Do you know what the bet is about?” Helena sounded worried.

“From what I've heard, it's that Aegon can get her in his bed by the end of two weeks.”

“Jace! That's only a few days from now! We have to stop this.”

You couldn't bear to hear the rest so you stepped out from behind the corner. “Stop what?” You feigned innocence.

Helena came up to you with sadness in her eyes. Her arms were outstretched to gather your hands in hers. “I think you need to let Aegon go, sweetie.”

You shook your head violently. “No. I'm not letting him go. This is the best I've felt since before Jason!” 

“I don't trust him. Never have. You need to protect yourself and leave him,” Jace said.

“I'm not gonna hear it.” A tear rolled down your face. “I'm actually going to meet him right now. I'll even ask him if that makes you feel better.”

“If you ask him, he's gonna lie! Please, leave him. If not for yourself then for us. Helaena and I only want what's best for you.”

You looked at both of them, conflicted between wanting to believe them or your heart. Aegon made everything better. Just being with him lifted your spirits. So, instead of saying anything, you have them one last nod for a goodbye and headed out the door.

It was slightly chilly when you stepped outside but you welcomed it all the same. Holding out your arms, you let the wind blow your troubles away. 

“Am I meeting you somewhere or are you picking me up? I kinda already left the apartment bc they were making me upset.” You sent the text.

“Oh fuck I'll pick you up! Hold on Im omw!” he replied.

Smiling to yourself, you stepped away from the front door and made your way to the nearby park. You sat on the bench and thought about all that was said. It played in a constant circulation in your head. Your heart wants one thing but your head says another. It was tiring.

Soon enough, Aegon pulled up in his car. He got out and went to sit next to you on the bench.

“How'd you find me here?” You asked him.

“When you said my sister and Jace were bothering you I figured you'd want to get away from them. Also I saw you,” he said.

You sighed. “It's just exhausting. They both say that you're playing me. Hell, even my dreams are saying that!” 

He paled a little. “And what makes them say that?” 

“Helena and Jace bring up your history a lot. That you've never treated anyone like you treat me.”

“And your head?”

“I think I'm just scared. After Jason…” you trailed off.

Aegon scooter closer to you. “Do you remember what you told me when you were high?”

You shook your head and laughed. “There's only a bit that I remember if I'm being honest.”

He took your hands in his. He didn't look up at you. “You said you loved me.”

“What?” 

“I said that I loved the date and then you said you loved me. I tried to correct you but you said no, you loved me.”

You pulled your hands away from Aegon and stood up from the bench. “Oh, my gods, I'm so sorry, Aegon!”

He stood up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “It's okay,” he whispered. “Because I love you, too.”

Turning around in his arms, you have him a hard look. “Don't play with me, Aegon.”

“I'm not, I promise.”

You took a deep breath. “As long as you're not playing with me, then I'm not playing with you. I love you, Aegon.”

Your heart fluttered at his words. He loved you. Aegon Targaryen loved you.

You stood on your tip toes and placed a gently kiss on his lips. Hesitantly, Aegon kissed you back. It was complete bliss. Your hands went to cup his face while his hands unwound themselves to hold your waist. You wanted his hands to go lower. Shaking your ass a bit, you smiled into the kiss as encouragement. Instead of going lower, Aegon brought his hands up to ghost over the side of your breasts. As you moaned into the kiss, Aegon took that opportunity to slide his tongue in. It was decadent. The feel of him inside you was enough to make you grind on him a bit. You wanted more. You needed more. Breaking apart from the kiss, you lead him to his car and pressed your back against it so you were caged between Aegon and the car.

You pulled him close enough so you would whisper in his ear, “Let's take this to your place.”

This was it. The chance to win the bet. Aegon could take this moment and see it through or he could throw it away to protect you.

Aegon’s grip on your waist tightened as he took a deep breath. “Remember what we both said? That I love you and you love me? ”

“Yeah,” you said breathlessly.

“Please, don’t forget it.” He paused. “I'm telling you this because you deserve it. You deserve better than me.” 

You shook your head and gave him a joking smile. “What do you mean? You’re who I want.”

He took his hands off of you and stepped back. “No, you don’t.” He took a deep breath. “There was a bet,”

Your face fell. “No. No, no, no,” you began to say.

“Cregan bet that I couldn't get you to sleep with me in two weeks. And like the idiot I am, I took it. I just didn't expect…”

You laughed mirthlessly and took more steps away from him. You wrapped your arms around yourself and tried to control your breathing. Tears burned in the corners of your eyes. “Expect what? To catch feelings? To care? To fall in love?”

Aegon looked at you with genuine care in his eyes. “Yes. I fell in love with you hard and fast and I'm so sorry, kitten.” He reached out to you.

With tears rolling down your face, you recoiled as quickly as you could away from his touch. “Don't call me kitten. I never was, never will be.”

“Please, I'm so sorry.” Aegon looked like he was about to cry but you tossed that observation from your mind.

“And to think I actually trusted you. That I actually thought you would be better than Jason.” You looked him up and down and looked him hard in the eye. “Well, thank the gods I didn't actually fuck you then.”

Aegon flinched at your words. “Listen, I -”

You stopped him. “There is no ‘listen’. Just go back to your frat house and find someone else to fuck.” Turning on your heels, you left him.

Deep in your heart you wanted Aegon to follow you, to beg for your forgiveness even more. But he didn't. You glanced behind yourself only to find him staring at you. In one last ditch effort to make him feel like shit, you held your middle finger up in the air before walking out of his view.

After you walked the length of the park a few times, never running into Aegon, you went back to Helaena's place. Unlocking the door, warmth flooded you as soon as you stepped through the threshold; as did the tears. You couldn't stop the sobs from coming out.

Helaena came out, hearing your crying. “Sweetie, what's happened?”

“You were right,” you sniffled. “You and Jace were both right and I'm just a fucking idiot!”

Helaena engulfed you in a hug then brought you to the couch in the living area. “Let me get Jace and then we'll talk about what happened, okay?”

You gave your friend a snotty nod.

“Good.” Off she went to find Jace.

Bringing your legs up to fetal position, you let yourself fall to the side on the pillows. Slowly, as though your body couldn't handle much, you reached for a blanket to cover up.

“She's here,” you heard Helaena say to Jace. 

As their footsteps came closer, you braced yourself for the difficult discussion up ahead.

When Helaena and Jace sat themselves in front of you on the other couch you didn't say anything. Neither of them tried to speak, either. It was just silent except for your occasional sniffles. Eventually, you were able to talk.

“You were right,” you said between hiccups. Once your sobs slowed down, hiccups took their place.

Helaena and Jace simply looked at each other, waiting for you to continue.

“It was a lie. It was all a lie. The bet that you heard about, Jace? It was true.”

Jace swore. “Fucking hell.”

“Tell me what to do to him and I'll do it, I swear,” Helaena said.

“No!” You sat up straight. “I don't want either of you to do anything.”

“Give your heart a break and think with your head right now. He can't just get away with this!” Jace yelled.

You flinched. “Please don’t yell. And he’s not. He's hurting as much as I am.”

“How can you be so sure, sweetie?” Helaena reached to hold your hand but you shuffled away.

You whispered your next words. “He said he loved me.”

Jace scoffed. “I'm sorry, but I don't believe that. You can't say you love someone then drop them like that.”

“No, Jace,” Helaena cut in. “Aegon wouldn't have said anything if he didn't care.” She looked at you. “He cares for you, that much I know.”

“What do I do now?” You asked your two friends.

“We heal. We take the time we need to process everything and we heal.”

“I'll keep Aegon away until you're ready,” Jace chimed in.

“What if I want to see him now?” You argued.

“You’re way too emotional right now. We don't want you to do anything stupid.”

“What? Like falling in love with him? Don't worry, I've already done the stupid thing.”

Helaena moved to hug you and this time you let her. “You know that's not what we mean.” 

Burying your face in the neck, you let her presence comfort you. “Can I sleep here?”

“I think Jace and I would prefer you sleep in a bed.”

“No, I took your bed last night.”

“And you can sleep there again.”

You sighed in defeat; too tired to argue. Pulling away from the hug, you stretched your arms up before pulling the blanket back around you. You let Helaena and Jace help you up and move into Helaena’s room, even though their help was unnecessary. Still, it was appreciated. When you got to Helaena’s bed, you tucked yourself in. Distantly, you heard Helaena and Jace say their goodnights.

As you closed your eyes, you thought about the good times you had with Aegon and mourned the loss of never having them again.

[dimonds456]

Transfem Stan Thoughtdump

Okay so @/abyssalzones made a pretty good post that sums up a lot of my thoughts as well, but I have a few extra ones I'd like to add to this discussion, as well as elaborating on one of the post's points. I've been thinking about transfem Stan for a couple of weeks now and at this point I'm like "fuck it we ball" and throwing it out there. 

For one, it warms my heart whenever there's an older character who was raised in the mid-1900s/older times who realizes they're queer, or comes to terms with their identity in old age. You're never too old to realize you're part of the community, and never too late. Adding this on top of the many, MANY identities that Stan has had to take to survive in her life, it'd be like really turning over a new leaf for her. She'd get to really step into an identity that she aligns with completely, and not something else given to her or that she took to protect herself. 

Not to mention, everything regarding Ford. The fact that she had to pretend to be Ford for so long, she more than likely never had the chance to even think about taking on any other identities. She had to keep this one as intact as she could. Otherwise, she could risk loosing the Shack, and with it, the portal- her brother. No way that was happening. 

It was briefly touched in the post, but when Stan was watching that one movie and she was like "JUST LIKE ME FR", obviously the writers intended that to just be a joke since this was as far and away from Stan's identity as they could get. But we're gonna ignore that and take it at face value for a second. 

The channel introduces itself (jokingly) as the boring old lady black-and-white channel, clearly something that a manly-man like Stan wouldn't be into, and he reacts like how you'd expect. But once it gets going, he gets fully sucked into it, leading eventually to the scene where the main character, seemingly about to complete a Character Arc™, tells her mother "I'm not just a dutchess, I'm also a woman!" and Stan cheers for her, saying the "just like me fr" line. 

Without any transfem headcanons, again, this is a joke. Or you could interpret this in hindsight as Stan feeling a similar way about his father, since lines like "I'm a woman!" declared like that usually means "I'm free to make my own choices," which is a message resident make-my-father-proud-issues Stanley Pines would relate to pretty hard. Even though this isn't a conclusion Stan comes to in the show, we could easily see him coming to a conclusion like that in the future.

Now let's add the transfem headcanon back in. With that new layer to it, Stan (whose egg hasn't cracked yet) would be confused as to why she relates so hard. After all, she's a man who was raised to shove feelings down and be a manly-man man by Filbrick. She's more than likely gone her entire life trying to conform to that idea of toxic masculinity that her dad pushed on both her and Ford. Stan was always the one who resorted to punching, after all. That's a manly-man trait, so surely this goes no further right

There's a part of Gravity Falls that I feel doesn't get discussed enough, and that's the underlying misogyny of it. There's not a ton of it, but there are quite a few jokes about how men are stronger than women and the like. Stan has quite a few lines like that herself. So she would be subscribing to a similar mental state, the idea that if you like punching, CLEARLY you're a guy. Cuz that's how it works. Obviously. 

Introducing Mabel Pines, someone who is VERY much a girly-girl. She likes pink and unicorns and rainbows and makeup and sleepovers, stuff of the like. Now I could make a whole other post about my headcanons for Mabel and her queer journey, but one thing she can definitely do that "girly-girls" DON'T? Punching.

Mabel can punch. And she punches a lot. 

It's a small thing, and something I think Stan has just kinda accepted without question over the course of the series, but if she were to stop and think about it, she'd be like ".....wait a minute." and it could very well be the first piece that cracks the idea of manly-man masculinity vs just. existing as a person and what that actually means. 

Once Stan finally starts to break away from toxic masculinity and all those lessons she got thrown into her head, then her egg would finally be able to start cracking. 

As for why it even matters, first off, it just makes for an interesting interpretation of the character I haven't really seen before until VERY recently. Like, within the past 2 days recently (and maybe once like a month ago?? idk). 

But secondly, for her character, it would be a good, healthy step into really taking back her identity. Who IS Stan Pines? She's spent so long being other people, either as a form of self-defense or pretending to be her brother so she can help save him from the sideburn hell dimension, that I don't think she's really allowed herself to connect to who Stan is. 

This is true regardless of gender headcanon, but I think the transfem angle makes it so much more interesting. Who is Stan? Not even she knows. And she's starting to feel VERY confused about the whole thing. 

As for Ford, I think he'd be more than willing to support an identity journey for Stan. After all, he's traveled across dimensions and more than likely had all his teachings questioned as well. I am willing to bet money he's encountered trans people before. And, knowing Ford, he'd be open and curious to the idea, not close-minded, no matter what their father tried to teach his kids. Honestly, I could see Ford pestering Stan with questions long into the night regarding the whole thing, and taking up the whole identity mystery for himself as something the two of them can "crack" (heh) together. Just another adventure for the crew of the Stan'o'War II! 

There's SO much more but I don't wanna re-say things that the og post already said, these are just the big ones that stick out to me and what I wanted to elaborate on. 

TL;DR Stan goes on a journey of realizing that toxic masculinity Is Bad Actually and honestly so was his father, and once he accepts that and starts actively challenging his own beliefs about gender, her egg cracks and she realizes that maybe she isn't a guy at all. The rest of the Pines- but Ford especially- are supportive, and although Stan has a LOT of self-reflection to do and I could see her getting frustrated, flustered, or even embarrassed of her newfound realization, ultimately it makes her happier like this. Cuz it's her identity. She's not pretending to be anyone else anymore and she can just wholly be herself.

Thank you and goodnight

[justpeaxchy]

Oo, okay, so I know you write romantic stuff (all amazing btw), but if you’re up for it, maybe some platonic head-canons? Like, Hiccup with a reader who is his like adopted younger sister or something?

No pressure!!!

A/n: thank you!! I had so much fun writing this and a big ol' smile was on my face the whole time! (I was able to complete this request much quicker than usual lol, so here you go!)

Warnings(?): mentions of a small wound & bleeding, other than that, none.

'You Know I Love You So.'

First of all, Hiccup would be the best brother to have, no joke.

He's there for you when you need comfort, a good laugh, and when you just need company.

He's very protective, though. Sometimes he can go a little far, but he doesn't want you to think he's trying to control you or something, so he watches from afar if you're ever doing anything that may be out of your comfort zone.

*Cough* (out of his comfort zone.)

When and if you're old enough, he'll definitely take you out on flights with him and Toothless to find new islands together for his map.

He really enjoys showing you the things he makes too. If Astrid isn't the first person around him at that moment, he's gonna ramble all about it to you.

He doesn't feel awkward for doing so because he knows you'll listen. But he does feel bad if it's towards the night because you end up falling asleep most of the time while he's still talking.

He just doesn't fully know that you find his voice soothing enough to fall asleep to.

This man loves to tickle his sibling. You can't tell me otherwise.

If you're not waking up in the mornings when it's time for you to, he goes to his last option, which is to force you out of bed by tickling you.

He has the most cocky smirk on his face when you admit defeat and start getting up. You're quick to wipe that off, though, when you punch his arm.

(You got that idea from Astrid.)

When he sees you together with Astrid, this guy is in Cloud 9.

He absolutely adores it when you two spend time together, it makes his heart melt seeing that you're comfortable with her.

Hiccup forgets that you're actually adopted into his family sometimes, it feels like you've been there since the beginning. He was 10 when you officially became his adopted sister and, although it took some time for you to warm up to him, he began to love having you as his sibling with each passing day.

The first time he actually said the words "I love you" was when you had a cut on your arm and you were crying because of the sight of blood. You had accidentally scratched yourself against a tree branch when you tried following him into the forest.

Hiccup was wrapping the wound with a cloth, feeling guilty that he couldn't do anything to stop the cut from happening in the first place, and seeing the tears in your eyes didn't make it any better for him.

He comforted you the best he could while he was attending to the cut, and continued to once he was done. He gently held your shoulders as he hesitated to say what was on his mind before he spoke: "Hey.. I'm sorry I wasn't looking out better for you back there.. I love you, okay? I'll make sure you won't get hurt next time."

He thought you wouldn't be okay with him saying something like that yet, but when he noticed the small smile forming on your face, he was immensely relieved.

Overall, Hiccup is so glad that you came into his life as his sister. He always assumed that he wouldn't have the opportunity to enjoy being with a sibling, but when you came, he didn't have to worry about those thoughts anymore.

[writing-nothing-but-spilled-ink]

Joker head cannons

He definitely knows how to sew more then that he knows how to make clothing and he's really good with mending and making dresses if he feels like it

He's bisexual with a preference towards men like he has some attraction to woman but I feel like he more so views woman as easier to manipulate and control then men, tho he does have to find the woman attractive otherwise there's no real point for him to be with them, but even when he has a female partner hes still flirting with men any chance he gets and not just Batman but just some rando mobster he meets at one of the many bars in Gotham

He's definitely borrowed one or more of Harley's dresses and has had to make or order her a custom dress because he got blood on the one he borrowed and she's destroying his layer and killing his goons because it was her favorite and if he doesn't remedy it he'll have no competent goons to do his bidding..

Just like he hates Nazis he hates homophobia even more he can't be bothered with other things like abuse or domestic violence or murder but homophobia no he's hunting you down like a dog if he catches you on his turf dating to be homophobic god help you if you make a homophobic comment about him... I just imagine he just smiles and laughs and then kills you the most brutal way possible and then takes your body and starts parading it around Gotham as his date and even goes so far to go into a restaurant with the body orders dinner for both puts it on your credit card and opens a bottle of champagne like would you like more my love and starts cackling while the rest of the staff are horrified, I feel he'd even go so far as to carve words or something into your flesh and then finally dumps the body as a warning..

In that same vain if he's out and about enjoying a day off or day off adjacent for him and he's at a bar hell definitely be the life of the party mans will be flirting hardcore with any man he finds mildly attractive would definitely shoot you for not laughing at his jokes though

He has a whole warehouse full of custom dresses he's designed and had made and suits and other various costumes

He's a really good cook witch no one expects especially with cooking on a budget he can make like a five star meal out of the cheapest ingredients but if he has a choice hes a bit bougie, also I feel like he'd host a cooking class with his goons because they keep fucking up his breakfast and as he's teaching the class one of the goons burns the egg and he goes "oh sweetie that's not it at all", then grabs the goons face and holds it down onto the burner till a circular burn mark is on his face while saying, "I dont want to punish you but if i don't how will you ever learn". He releases him but and tells him to try again the goon surprisingly gets it right..

NOTE: Now this next one it really depends on what iteration of joker but I'm gonna put this around bronze/silver age era where he's less violent and psychotic and in this little thought Harley still exists yes ik she wasn't written till the 90s this is my head canon shut up also this is canon things mixed in with my headcanons so

But I imagine mid fight with one of the bat kids one of them pauses and is like joker can I ask you a question and joker is kind of like thrown off a bit and a thousand percent expects it to be a trick or sucker punched but he goes along with it and is like sure what's your question and the bat kid is like... "Soooooo your not straight right"?! And joker just fucking starts laughing then pauses and is like "kid what about my outfit makes you think ah yes that's a straight man do you think a straight man would flirt with Batman or go out of his way to arrange such lovely dates for batsy if I were straight ". And joker is absolutely laughing because this is the funniest joke he's ever heard to think anyone ever thought he was straight even harley who he was involved with for years knew this about him the moment she laid eyes on him.. the bat kid just kinda staring at him awkwardly ajd joker just is like why do you ask there's gotta be some reason for this question.. the bat kid is like uhh so then your bisexual right so like how did u know you were bisexual what were the indicators you were the first villain I kind of thought of I could ask and also the most available.. joker just pauses and is like alright I'm putting a pin in this plan and calls Harley and tells her to bring a white board and markers witch leads to an hour long lecture on the different genders and sexualities and what they all mean as well as an explanation that not everyone will be an ally

He also goes on to explain that when he was young it wasn't really a good time to be gay or bisexual so a lot of people were repressing part of themselves due to fear of what others would do to them if it got out and how the kid is lucky that the world is more accepting now then it was then he also explains that he and Harley had different experiences in that regard as they grew up in different times seeing as Harley is younger then joker

To put in perspective when Harley was a freshman in college Bruce was already three grades above her and on the cusp of graduating before dropping out

He's secretly a wine drinker

At some point he went to college and graduated with honors

He doesn't like animals views them as filthy and not worth his time

Hes neutral towards children definitely would beef with a child actually does beef with children (the batfam) I feel like he neither likes nor dislikes children like yeah he killed Jason but that was on a whim

[noemilivv]

Hello! I was wondering if I could request a romantic Hazbin Match up!

Just call me Olivia.

Pronouns: She/her Sexuality: Straight

Style: My style ranges depending on my mood but it consistantly falls into three categories of dresses (Usually knee length with a fit and flare waist), comfy (Sweaters and comforters), and sexy (Think corsets and bustiers.). I like wearing make-up and styling my hair into cute styles (Sadly I suck at braiding.) Shoes… honestly I think I like all shoes except crocks. I love Nail art too!

Hobbies/Interest: Drawing, singing, gaming, reading and shopping. I like trying out new things from activities and foods. Favorite subjects are history, mythology, and computer science, and I like building furniture when I have a guide.

Book genres: Romance, Fantasy, Historical, and Mystery

Personality:

I'm called a social butterfly by everyone I know. I've also been told I have a tendency to adopt introverts into my circle and care for them. No joke, I've been invited to place because I'm willing to talk to strangers and not shy away from conversation. I've been told that I'm very entertaining to be around because I'm very bubbly and animated in my interactions because I like making people happy.

Jokes on everyone because internally I'm very shy and a nervous wreck, I just know how to hide it well. I definitely can suffer from feeling inadequet and have imposter syndrome XD Honestly to quote my favorite character: I'm an insecure, neurotic control freak… on crack. I can also be materialistic and pouty.

I'm very protective over my loved ones, think "Hurt them, I hurt you and no one will find the body." I tend to hover over loved ones if they are sick or sad and help take care of them.

I also can definitely be a bitch but usually the other person deserves my ire. I also will hold grudges if people backstab me or my loved ones. They can say they are sorry but I will not trust them again nor will I let them near my circle of people.

Fav Foods: I love spicy foods, baked goods, and love trying to make new dishes or eating them.

Love Languages: Physical Touch: I love to cuddle, hug and everything else under the sun. If I'm kissed on the forehead, I will swoon.

Emotional: This is a must because if there's no emotional connection why is there a relationship to begin with. I want to be able to talk to my partner and them to me no matter the situation. Both the good and the bad.

Gift giving: I don't care what kind of gift, for me it's the thought that counts that I was on his mind.

My type: I'm very specific in my type so I'mma choose two good and one bad: I want someone loving and caring, and not a jackass. Otherwise I will be the one punching them.

Lord… I sound like a mess XD I feel bad for this but I'm really curious so good luck!

hello olivia!! this was one i wasn’t so sure on who i was gonna do, but i decided on…

Sir Pentious !!

Pentious definitely fits your type imo because he’s actually so genuine and sweet like I would not understand anyone who thinks he’s a jackass lmao

He’s very big on physical touch, but he’s scared shitless to initiate like anything ever, so the fact that he doesn’t have to worry too much calms him down a lot haha

Pen is a bit shy and a tad bit of a wreck haha so the fact that you’re social enough to draw him out of his shell a little AND aren’t too crazy for him is something that matches well with the row of you <3

He also feels very flattered if you ever get protective over him, it kinda makes him all warm inside, like you care about him so much to be protective? Like bro, he’s swooning

[trainedhard]

@hopefromadoomedtimeline

Saitama knows there's essentially an ongoing apocalypse. He's all too aware of it, even-- but he simply tries to ignore it most of the time. Live as normal a life as he can, and try to help civilians on occasion. Honestly, though, even when he tries, he gets so much backlash that being a hero becomes less and less appealing day by day. Still, he's not a hero or working with the association for fame or glory; he really does want to make a change for the better, and that's all that even matters to him anymore.

... Still, he's accused of being a fraud. And as it's something that happens so often, he's given up protesting it. If what it takes to appreciate the job other heroes do is thinking he's a fraud, well at least he's serving a purpose, and it's not for nothing that he's disrespected and treated like dirt ...

But, with that reputation comes wide-scale rumors about him -- rumors that no doubt spread around to even the monsters that call themselves the androids. Now, Saitama doesn't know their entire deal by any means, but he knows that Genos doesn't feel too kindly towards them. And if he doesn't feel too kindly, then they must be pretty bad. Sure, they're terrorizing most people's lives as they know it, and Saitama's taken down quite a few of them and protected many civilians from them.. but he never really goes out of his way to hunt them down otherwise.

Even so, the androids know of him, though. Specifically, it seems they finally caught on to his strength and they really want him on their side. At first, they'd thought he was a joke, just like everyone else but Genos seemed to ... but now that they've actually gathered some data on him, it seems their targets are set on studying him. He's not exactly open to the idea of being studied for such a cause, not even if he was paid to do it though. Without fail, every time they'd try to attack him or capture him, he'd completely decimated them, and yet their attempts to capture him have never let up.

Today was no exception.

Saitama was hoping for even one day where he'd get to chill, picking at his expensive salmon and rice lunch as he sat on a park bench. Nobody else seemed to be in this park, though he could hear a little bit of a ruckus in the distance.

' Well. Nothing the other pro heroes can't handle. I'm just gonna eat, then .. check out that sale I heard about, or something.. '

Continuing to slowly pick away at his lunch treat, he completely ignored the android that was stalking closer to him until it was right in his face. Towering over him, with a cocky smirk and taunting words that went in one ear and right out the other, it'd expected to catch Saitama's attention in any significant way. However, when it was simply ignored, the caped hero's attention turning literally anywhere else to try and avoid a confrontation ... That baffled and agitated it.

Spewing more threats which were as good as useless to Saitama, the only even slight acknowledgement he gave the android was cutting it off mid-sentence, unreadable expression tinged with annoyance.

“ Dude. You're way too close to me. Move. ”

That's as much warning as this guy's gonna get. If he doesn't comply, Saitama's probably gonna punch the guy... But to a bystander, the situation probably looks way more dicey! Even though the android is gearing up, ready to blow away Saitama with everything he has, it doesn't look like he's got a care in the world... Does he have a death wish?

.... Yeah, kinda. But it's not like it could ever be fulfilled anyways.

[sakuraswordly]

Tsofph season 11(chapter1 secret truth of the past) Prologue

????????: No matter how precious something is, once it's gone, there's nothing left of it. In which case, you'd rather have nothing from the start. You don't need anything. You don't want anything.

Gilgamesh: Hey! You there! Are you okay?

Punch: I'm fine--huh?!

Gilgamesh: -------?!!!! Punch?!

Punch: PUNCH?! Is that really you?!

*swisshh*

Gilgamesh: ..........They find me.......I don't have time for this.....Here. This is for you.

Punch: Hm? The Yellow Lily flower?

Gilgamesh: It's Hesperocallis. It is a genus of flowering plants that includes a single species. The original is white, but what I found is yellow.

Punch: Wait....are you a florist?

Gilgamesh: Just for now. Also, it's a gift. You know, for scaring those things away.

Punch: Huh? Those things?

Gilgamesh: Some supernatural things. Never mind. Think of it as a memento.

Punch: Seriously? I'm good.

Gilgamesh: Oh, don't be like that. I know you want one. When was the last time you saw a Sahara lily, huh? Plus, it'll make your boyfriend's day. I guarantee it.

Punch: Are you seeing me? What kind of something?! I'm not your customer you know?! Stop fooling around, PUNCH?! Enough already. I'll give you two golds for it!

Gilgamesh: Two measly gold!? For a real flower? Come on. Don't be so mean! You're trying to get rid of me. For these measly gold! Sorry, but mongrel like your plan won't work on me.

Punch: And what exactly happened....can you tell me what's going on?  Look, I'm involved in things. Dangerous things.

Gilgamesh: Yeah I know you're a kind of sort like that. So?

Punch: So keep your distance.

Gilgamesh: Huh.....so you run away from someone too? Is that what you're all worked up about? Relax. No one's going to attack you. I promise. It should probably be me instead.

Punch: Huh? What do you mean by "me"? Are you----

Gilgamesh: They're coming! Help me!

Punch: -------!!

*swisshh*

Punch: These are what you mean by "Some supernatural things"?! What are those purple winds anyway?!

Gilgamesh: They're coming from Babylon kingdom.

Guards: Stop it right there. you thief!

Gilgamesh: Uh huh....."thief"...

Punch: You know—you're right! Wha--Wait! Where are you going?!

Gilgamesh: Nice meeting you! See me again in Babylon kingdom!

Punch: *Sigh*

Guards: Sword on the ground! Right now!

Enkidu: Punch!

Punch: Enkidu!

Enkidu: Getting into trouble a little early today, aren't we, Punch?

Punch: Trouble? No way. You're only in trouble if you get caught.

*Music play*

Guards: Hey! Get back here!!

Punch: Down that alley. Enkidu knows the way. Cute butt. You'll be fine.

Yesudas: Thanks. Are we in trouble?

Punch: Only if you get caught. *Wink* HEY!! You looking for this!

**Start song: One Jump Ahead**

Punch: Gotta go Fast! ♪ One jump ahead of the breadline ♪

♪ One swing ahead of the sword ♪

♪ I steal only what I can’t afford ♪ That’s everything.

♪ One jump ahead of the lawmen ♪

♪ That's all and that's now joke ♪

♪ These guys don't appreciate I'm broke! ♪

Guards: (One at a time) ♪ Riffraff! ♪

♪ Street rat! ♪

♪ Scoundrel! ♪

♪ Take that! ♪

Punch: ♪ Just a little snack, guys. ♪

Guards: ♪ Rip him open, take it back, guys! ♪

Punch: Him♪ him♪ him♪ I like you guys called me like that.

♪Gotta eat to live, gotta steal to eat Tell you all about it when I got the time Hey!♪

Yesudas: There are stairs, you know.

Punch: Where's the fun in that?

♪ One jump ahead of the slowpokes. ♪

♪ One skip ahead of my doom. ♪

♪ Next time, gonna use a nom de plume. ♪

Guards: Hey, get back here!

 ♪ One jump ahead of the hitmen ♪

♪ One hit ahead of the flock ♪

♪ I think I'll take a stroll around the block ♪

Lady: ♪ Still I think he's RATHER TASTY! ♪

♪ Gotta eat to live, ♪

♪ Gotta steal to eat ♪

♪ Otherwise, we'd get along! ♪

Guards: WRONG!!!

Punch: Dead End huh........Together on three.

Yesudas: Together on three?

Punch: We jump!

Yesudas: We what?!

Punch: Look at me. Look at me. You... can do this.

Yesudas: Okay.....I trust you....

*Sound Jumping*

♪One jump ahead of the hoofbeats♪

♪One hop ahead of the hump♪

♪One trick ahead of disaster♪

♪They're quick, but I'm much faster♪

♪ Here goes, ♪

♪ Better throw my hand in ♪

♪ Wish me happy landin', ♪

♪ All I gotta do is jump! ♪

Peter: Oh, dear. Seriously Punch?

Punch: At least I found something other than a piece of bread.

Pit: Welcome back!

Shamhat: Welcome back...you're in trouble again dear.

Punch: Perhaps you would like to hear the tale? It all starts here in Nazareth, Galilee.

The title Tsofph appears!

Tsubasa AF Phantasia

{season 11(chapter1 secret truth of the past) }

♪ Like Arabian days ♪

♪ More often than not ♪

♪ Are hotter than hot ♪

♪ In a lot of good ways ♪

♪ Arabian nights ♪

♪ 'neath Arabian moons ♪

♪ A fool off his guard ♪

♪ could fall and fall hard ♪

♪ out there on the dunes. ♪

Note: This video is my sixth-hand drawing animation

What We have travelled together even though we're not together.(All Tsofph seasons are in this link below 👇)

[blorbocedes]

galex + snap out of it : )

"Don't marry her." Alex says, feet on the sofa, a stripe of his stomach visible from where he'd untucked his white rehearsal dinner shirt, looking up at the ceiling.

George freezes from where he was pre-ironing his slacks, so the staff could give it a fresh press in the morning. "Sorry, what?"

"Don't marry her. We both know you don't want to." Alex says rather matter-of-factly, still staring at the ceiling.

"I thought the groom was supposed to get cold feet. Nice of you to assume that responsibility too." George jokes trying to be casual, but his hand is still holding the iron facing up, tense all over.

"Jury's still out on whether you even like women. I know you're looking forward to being a minor Earl by marriage or whatever, but otherwise you'll be miserable. 5 years, tops. So, let's cut the losses. Don't go ahead tomorrow." Alex's voice is the same dispassionate bluntness with which he'd break up with countless girlfriends, boyfriends, the implied 'it's not me, it's you.' He never directs it to George. George lives the security no matter how many hearts Alex breaks, his remains intact. Best mates privilege. He's still not fucking looking at him.

"What are you on about, Albon?" George forces himself to sound calm, resting the iron on its stand before he burns something. "Had too much brandy with the uncles? Projecting your own fear of commitment, yeah?"

Also. It's not important when faced with accusations he's not even into his future wife, but he's marrying into being a minor Duke, thank you very much.

That makes Alex sit up, look squarely at George. They both know how to get under each other's skin.

"You don't love her. You love me. And nothing's going to change between us, except you in your eternal misery might pop out a kid or two to be 'pragmatic.'" Alex rolls his eyes. "So I am asking you to reconsider."

You love me. They don't -- they don't really say that to each other. They know it, in the way Alex tags along to his family vacations, the way girlfriends would enter and exit his life but the only constant is George. It's like getting sucker punched, hearing it out loud, letting the forbidden words pierce the air, and they can't be taken back.

"Why in the world would you say this now? You -- we went ring shopping together! And you say this to me now, the night before I'm about to get married?!"

Alex sighs. He looks at him pityingly, those handsome almond eyes looking at him like he's missing something incredibly obvious and it twists something inside George. George had shown every cut of diamond to Alex and every band size. They had toured and tasted wineries together. And Alex had been completely neutral about it all, only a grimace when she'd join them for dinner. Then he started bringing his own date along, so they could make it a couples' thing.

"George. You wanted to be an architect. You wanted to design the next Bank of England. You're an IP lawyer."

"What's that got to with anything?"

"Because you will do anything once it's expected of you. I didn't want to have to say it to you. This entire year, I thought, any day now he's gonna realise it. When we fucked at your stag do, surely. You Googled what to write in your vows, mate! And I realized after tonight, no, you're actually going to do it tomorrow, sign yourself to this -- this mental nuclear conjugal fantasy cause Heaven forbid, you don't live up to being mummy and daddy's perfect little checklist. So you've forced my hand here, Georgie. And now I'm asking. Do it for me doing it for you."

Alex gets up and takes both of George's hands in his, who stands frozen, looking at him beseechingly; the gentleness Alex can be with him when no one else is around. George swallows on nothing, his eyes prickling already, thinking, Don't make me choose. Don't you dare.

"I booked your honeymoon. I still have your passport details. There's two tickets to Bali for tomorrow. We don't have to look back. Let the dust settle here, we'll be thousands of miles away." Alex looks at him with so much hope, and this close -- he can smell his cologne, it's something expensive George got him for his birthday, when they're standing this close the few cm Alex has on him in height is visible, makes George feel small for once.

There's probably a wedding caterer somewhere in the kitchens with a cake with his name and a statuette figure of a bride and groom on it. A tasteful 120 guest-list including family, important acquaintances, minor royalty have all arrived, flown in to be here. A years' worth planning, arguments over eggshell or pearl napkins, periwinkle or daisies in the bouquet, an actual six piece orchestral band because the bride's family is too good for DJs, the multiple photoshoots in cardigans and fake laughter to really sell their joint personal branding of upper class but down to Earth, completely in love but not over the top about it, a fitting match of young professionals but also from well-bred families. George's wedding isn't about him, it's about being the social event of the season, with his parents front and centre. Compared to years of law school, all he has to do is walk down an aisle tomorrow to make them proud.

He shakes Alex's hands off as if the touch were scalding.

"This is. This is wildly presumptuous of you, Alexander. And it is bloody disrespectful and borderline delusional to think I'm just gonna walk out on our families because you, what? You think that this is some wild romantic gesture? I'm just supposed to drop everything and run away with you? Don't fucking say you're doing it for me like some king of altruism. It's selfish, that's what it is. My great grandmother flew in for this! Jesus, Alex. You're scared because I'm doing the mature, adult thing here and you're scared I won't need you as much. You need to grow up."

This time, George is the one who can't bear to look at Alex anymore. He's scared his resolve will break if he does. He holds his breath, stands as dignified as he can with his righteousness, nose upturned. Alex stares at his side profile for a second before shaking his head and places something on the ironing board before leaving.

It's the velvet ring box.

George breathes out shakily, blinking the tears pooled in his eyelashes.

On the morning of the spring wedding of the season, the sun is shining, the pigeons are shooed as explicitly requested in the groom's itinerary, staff runs about making sure everything is perfect, every errant flower petal on the aisle is carefully placed, the suit jacket and shirt and slacks all ironed and delivered to an empty room.

George has never flown economy before. There's a baby crying and the growing irritation at the corner of forehead that would grow into a tension headache was distracting him from the obvious repercussions of what he is doing, the most impulsive and reckless decision of his life. His leg is tapping in the too small legroom, flimsy seatbelt loose around his waist -- did economy seatbelts even save lives? Alex's elbow nudges against his, grounding him, 30,000 ft in the air. He smiles at him, shakes no at the offer of the packeted nuts, and tries to keep the sinking feeling at bay, lacing their fingers together.

[judeswhore]

stuck with you - mason mount

in which you’re the last person mason ever wants to be stuck in a lift with, or so he says

thank you once again to my bestie @mountsmason u never fail to deliver, also i made this a little halloweeny, this will be a 2 parter bc this was really long but this really didn’t turn out how i wanted smh i blame uni for ruining my brain cells

warnings: swearing, slight smut, oral (F) receiving,

To say you hated Mason Mount would be a colossal understatement. There were no words in the English language that could accurately describe how you felt about him. In your head you felt it was a fine line between hatred and lust, sometimes you wanted to smash his pretty face into the table and other times you wanted him to fuck you senseless. But that didn't change the fact you still didn't like him.

He was an arrogant prick who thought the world owed him something for being such a brilliant footballer. He thought that his name and status meant he could get away with treating you like shit for reasons you can’t even begin to think of. You don’t even remember the first time you officially met Mason, you got pretty much black out drunk that night after breaking up with your boyfriend yet again, so you have no idea what happened that night to make him hate you so much. Surely if you’d done something that bad you’d remember or someone would have told you.

Mason was always so nice to everyone else. Smiling and laughing constantly, quite literally the definition of butter wouldn’t melt but his entire personality changed around you. He could be the most lovely person one minute and the second you appeared he turned into some dickhead who thought your never ending line of failed relationships was a funny joke he could continuously dig at. You’d tried at first to find out what had happened, you’d asked him on more than one occasion what you’d done that meant he disliked you so much, but he’d made up his mind.

He hated you. So in return you hated him.

It had become an endless cycle of trying to dodge each other at social events and attempting to play nice for Ben's sake but you could feel the elastic band pulling tighter and tighter and you didn't know which end was going to snap first. Would you finally hash it out in a screaming match that would hurt your best friend or would you let him fuck you to let it all out which would also end up hurting Ben? This far down the line either option was looking strong.

You felt a little nauseous about the fact you were on your way to a Halloween party you knew he was at, God knows how many hours spent pretending you didn't want to punch him. Unfortunately for you, Mason was important to Ben and given the fact Ben was your best friend that meant you had to put up with the shitty company he liked to keep. You'd brought up how Mason treated you to Ben a few times but he never really listened, in his eyes, just like everyone else's, Mason could do no wrong. You just hoped one day they'd realise what massive arsehole he was.

"What are you dressed as again?" Ben's voice sounded through your phone, the device pressed between your shoulder and your ear as you handed money over to the cab driver. 

"An angel, how many more times are you gonna ask me? Thank you!" You called to the driver as you opened the cab door, legs already starting to freeze in the night time air. "God it's freezing out here." You had to hold on to the halo headband in your hair for fear the wind would blow it away and you were thankful for how tight your dress was otherwise everyone would be getting a show right now.

"I swear you told me yesterday you bought a police woman's outfit." You could hear shouting in the background and you already knew the flat the party was being held in was going to be heaving when you got up there. But that's what you got for taking so long to get ready.

"I did but it made my tits look weird. I'm downstairs by the way, it is the top floor isn't it?" You tilted your head back to look up at the huge building, trying to figure out which side of the building the party was on.

"Yeah, spilled out on to the roof too."

"Sorry?"

"Joe made sure we had rooftop access. It's insane up here." You tried to focus your vision to the roof and you could just make out a few sparks of light and you could most definitely hear the sound of music. "He's got proper Halloween decorations up."

"Scream isn't gonna jump out at me, is he? Because you know I won't hesitate to stab whoever it is with my keys." You smiled at a man standing outside the building as you headed for the revolving doors, eager for a little bit of warmth. You're kind of mad you didn't bring a jacket now that you know most people are on the roof.

"Can't make any promises. I'm gonna go, okay? Get you a drink before you come up, oh and by the way-" You missed the end of his sentence because of someone screaming on his end but Ben didn't repeat himself, just shouted a goodbye and ended the call. With a huff you jammed your phone back into your purse, making your way passed the reception desk which, considering it was Halloween, was bare.

You made your way over to the lift, hands tugging at the ends of your white dress to pull it further over your bum where it had ridden up on your way out of the car. To be fair you're not even sure you could call it a dress, the material was barely covering all your most important parts, and you knew you were going to face teasing from Ben but you looked good so who was he to judge?

You pressed your finger into the button for the lift, shifting a little in your heels and fixing the halo on your head, smoothing your hair down in the process.

"Don't tell me you dressed up like this for me, sweetheart." Your hands froze in the process of brushing through your hair at the sound of his voice and you drew your eyebrows together, turning to see him smirking a few feet behind you.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." You puffed out a breath as you turned back around to face the lift, cursing whoever it was that made it so you had to see Mason before you'd had at least one bottle of vodka.

"Not even gonna say hello?" He slid up beside you, arm purposely brushing yours and you hated yourself for the way you shivered in response. You ignored him, gaze set straight ahead as you tapped your finger against your elbow. "I'm curious, the angel thing you've got going on, is it part of your game to convince people you're oh so nice and innocent?"

You bit into your cheek, determined not to give him a reaction. You could see him watching you out of the corner of your eye, his gaze sweeping your entire body before settling on your face. You knew you'd have to see Mason at some point tonight, you just weren't prepared to see him the second you arrived when you were still stone cold sober.

"Silent treatment, really? I'm just trying to be friendly, (Y/N)." You finally turned to glare up at him, even in your heels you weren't his height and it made you want to punch him even more. You eyed his costume, or lack of, mouth twisting in a grimace.

"What are you even meant to be?"

"You can't tell?

"You're hardly fucking wearing anything, Mount, no, I can't tell." The lift beeped, the doors sliding open and you sent a pointed look at the boy next to you. "You can wait for the next one."

"Don't be stupid, I'm not waiting." He stepped into the lift and lounged against the far wall, hands in the pockets of his trousers. "Are you getting in or not, sweetheart?" You really didn't want to be trapped in that tiny space with him for even a few moments but you also didn't want to be stood down here for any longer so with a little groan you followed him in, standing as far away from him as possible.

You watched him press the button for the top floor and you briefly wondered if you should just try the stairs but then the doors were closing and the two of you were wrapped up in silence. You could feel his eyes on you and you tried to fight the creeping blush at his close attention. Yes, your mind hated Mason but your body always felt extra attuned to him, you knew he was good looking and you couldn't help but react to that sometimes. That fact only made you hate him more.

The back wall was covered by a mirror and you turned to it, eying your reflection as you pulled a tube of lip gloss from your purse. Mason was still watching you, his gaze following your reflection and you arched you brows at him.

"Were you wanting some of this? I don't think it's your colour to be honest." Mason leant against the mirror so he could look straight at your face, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

"A fireman."

"What?"

"That's what I'm supposed to be, a fireman." You turned to him, gaze sweeping from the boots to the black protective trousers and the suspenders set around nothing. His entire upper body was on display and your eyes snagged on his little happy trail, cheeks turning a little pink even as you glanced away.

"You're a pretty shit fireman." Mason went to open his mouth but his words cut short when the lift jolted, his hand reaching out to steady himself against the wall. Your head tilted to the ceiling, eyes scanning everywhere to see what had happened. "It stopped moving. What did you do?" You made your way over to the wall of buttons, glare evident on your face.

"What do you mean "what did I do"? I obviously didn't break the fucking lift." Mason came up behind you, hand reaching around to press the little intercom.

"You must have leant against the buttons," You whacked his arm away, glowering at how close he'd gotten. "Get away from me, God this really can't be happening."

"(Y/N), I'm trying to get through to someone, stop flapping your arm at me."

"Well stop touching me!"

"I'm not trying to touch you, fucking hell, will you just move out of the way?" Mason nudged you out of the way with his shoulder, pressing his finger down on the intercom. "Hi, uh, the lift is stuck, is there anyone there?" He was met with a silence that made your stomach drop. "Hello? Seriously, come on, there must be someone there. I swear to God if this is part of some sort of joke, it's not funny. Hello?"

You were just pulling your phone from your purse to call Ben's number when static from the intercom filed the small space.

"Hello?" Mason was quick to turn to it, finger pressing against one of the buttons.

"Hi, yeah, uh, why have we stopped?"

"We seem to be having an electrical issue, sir, we're trying to find the problem but we're going to have to ask you to hang tight for a while." You narrowed your eyes at this, arms crossing over your chest.

"Hang tight? What else are we meant to do? We can't exactly go anywhere." Mason sent you a warning look over his shoulder, a look that basically told you to keep your mouth shut.

"Do you know how long we'll be here?"

"Well, we aren't exactly sure, we have someone in the electrics room working on it, we're really sorry for any inconvenience." You leant back against the wall as Mason mumbled a thanks after the man over the intercom promised he'd keep you updated. Of course this could only happen to you, of course it would just so happen to be Mason you'd bumped into on your way up here.

You met his gaze across the small space, more than aware of the fact his earlier teasing attitude had completely disappeared and he was frowning at you from his spot. This was probably the first time you'd been alone together, and it was definitely the first time you'd ever been in a space this close, you had to remind yourself that murdering him in here would most likely get you arrested.

"So, who're you dressed up for?" Mason broke the tense silence, his hands settling in his pockets again.

"I could ask you the same thing. What's with the no shirt thing?" You fought to keep your eyes on his, determined not to give him the satisfaction of looking at his chest.

"I'm supposed to be a sexy fireman."

"I don't think your face got that memo."

"Funny." You rifled in your purse again, busting yourself with applying even more gloss to your lips in hopes of avoiding eye contact with Mason. "I can practically see your arse, y'know." You glanced at him in the mirror.

"Bet that's giving you a school boy boner. Might wanna think about your Gran in the shower." You rubbed your lips together and watched the crease between Mason's eyebrows deepen.

"You're so full of yourself." He practically spat the words, his arms folding over his chest as he moved to settle himself as far away from you as the lift allowed.

"I'm full of myself?" You parroted, eyes narrowing at him because how dare he? You've never in your life met someone as arrogant and self centred as he is and he has the audacity to turn it on to you?

"Do you not hear yourself when you speak? Not every single guy you meet wants you, (Y/N)." You whirled around, face twisting slightly because first of all what the fuck was he talking about and second who was he to talk to you like that?

"When have I ever claimed that they did? I'm pretty sure you're the one who spends nights out flocked by girls just so they can stroke that massive ego of yours." You angrily shoved your lip gloss back into your purse, the air in the lift feeling drastically different all of a sudden.

"It's not my fault that my job attracts women, you're the one who throws yourself at every man you see." You watched Mason's jaw tense, his eyes hard and looking at him you wondered how everyone seemed to think he was nice. Since the first day you'd met him he'd been nothing but rude to you, he constantly tried to belittle you with his stupid cocky comments and you were beyond sick of it.

"You're such a fucking arsehole, you know that? When have you ever seen me throw myself at anyone? We don't go anywhere together for you to see that." You felt an angry flush creep over your body, your mind spinning with the fact that his man who barely even knows you hates you so much for no apparent reason.

"I've heard shit about you, (Y/N), the boys talk you know." Mason had taken a step towards you, his gaze locked on yours, and your heart slammed against your chest at the look on his face.

"What boys? Is this why you hate me? Because you've heard stuff, stuff that probably isn't even true?" You matched his step forward, there wasn't much room in the lift to begin with and now you were pretty much right in his personal bubble.

"I hate you because you always act like you're better than everyone else. You're (Y/N) and you're oh so special and everyone should be falling to their knees for you." You jabbed your finger into his chest.

"Why are you so bothered about people liking me? Just because you have a huge stick up your arse and hate me doesn't mean everyone else does."

"They don't actually like you, (Y/N), you throw yourself at them and they have no other choice." The two of you were so close you could feel the heat coming from him, his cheeks slightly flushed as he glared down at you.

"How many more times are you gonna accuse me of throwing myself at people?"

"Maybe until you realise how pathetic it makes you.

"Is that what this whole thing is about? Because I haven't made a move on you? Maybe if you hadn't been such a wanker to me since the first fucking second we met I might have." You watched a muscle twitch in his jaw.

"See this is what I mean! You just automatically assume every single person you meet wants to be with you!" He shook his head slightly, brows drawn into such a tight frown you're sure it must hurt.

"Why are you pretending you know anything about me or how I act?" Mason puffed out a breath.

"God, for once just shut the fuck up, (Y/N)." You narrowed your eyes, glare matching his and took another step forward.

"Make me." You both realised the weight of your words at the same time and you watched Mason's throat bob on a swallow, his eyes flashing before he closed the gap between you. His hands rose to grip your jaw and you made a soft noise of surprise when he pushed you back against the wall. His kiss was harsh, teeth nipping at your bottom lip and you dropped your purse, wrapping your arms around his neck to yank at his hair.

Mason Mount was kissing you. Actually, fully kissing you and you didn't hate it. There was nothing gentle or caring about the kiss but it sent a thrill through you and had your heart skipping in ways no other man had ever made it before.

"Looks who's throwing themselves at other people now." You teased, nails grazing along his scalp as he pushed his hips against yours. His hand slid to your throat and he squeezed until you bucked into him.

"This doesn't change anything." Mason mumbled, lips moving from your mouth and along your cheek until he could kiss along your jaw. "I still hate you."

"Good, I hate you too."

It was like the words sent a kick through him because his teeth bit softly into the skin of your neck and his hands brushed over your thighs. You felt his fingertips slip beneath the fabric, hands pushing it up until it bunched around your waist and you shivered against him, pulling on his bottom lip.

Mason's fingers toyed with the thin band of your underwear and he pulled it before letting it snap back against your skin, smirking at the gasp you let out into his mouth. He returned one hand to the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair to pull it back slightly while his finger grazed over the front of your underwear.

"Pretty eager for someone who supposedly hates me." He pointed out when you pushed against his hand. You opened your eyes to meet his gaze, surprised by the intensity in it.

"It doesn't matter how I feel about you." You kissed him again to stop him from replying, slipping your fingers around his suspenders so you could pull him closer. He was quick to push your underwear to the side, fingers sliding up your slit before pressing against your clit, the barely there pressure still making your blood rush.

Mason reached a little further up to pluck the halo from your head, dropping it to the floor beside your purse.

"I don't really think that's appropriate right now." His voice was low and his eyes were heavy lidded when he gazed down at you. "Did you think the angel costume could make up for how much of bitch you've been?" His words were punctuated with kisses  and you hated yourself in that moment for the way your body reacted more than you hated him for the question.

"Stop talking." Was the only thing you could think of to say but Mason seemed completely fine with that as he turned to kissing your neck, fingers circling your clit until your knees almost buckled. You bit into your lip and let your head fall back against the wall when Mason dropped to his knees in front of you, one hand latching around the back of your knee. He was surprisingly gentle when he hooked your leg over his shoulder, head turning so he could kiss the inside of your thigh.

You could hear your phone buzzing in your purse but all you could focus on was the way Mason’s tongue darted out and flicked over your clit, his fingers digging harshly into your thighs. You let out a soft moan and slid your own fingers through his hair, one hand gripping the back of his head while the other grabbed the railing around the lift for support.

Your mind felt foggy with the way he licked over your clit, lips occasionally wrapping around it as he sucked, his gaze set on yours as he pulled moans and whimpers from you. You felt the tip of his finger nudge against your entrance and your thighs jolted slightly, sharp heel digging into Mason’s bare skin. Mason gave an extra harsh suck to your clit in response.

“Oh-“

“Not so mouthy anymore are we, sweetheart?” Mason buried two of his fingers inside you in one breath, curling them until you let out a soft cry of his name. You pulled at his hair, revelling in the hiss of pain he let out and you gripped your other hand tighter around the pole, your legs starting to feel shaky.

“Mason-“ The sound of static interrupted your breathy moan of his name and it turned into a yelp of surprise.

“Hello, sir? The lift is about to start moving again, we’ve temporarily fixed the issue but it’ll be out of use once you leave.” The man’s voice filling out the tight space felt like a harsh slap to the face and you were quick to push Mason away from you, cheeks burning as you fixed your underwear and pulled your dress back down.

“Oh my God.”

“Sir?” Mason looked dazed for a second, his own cheeks tinted a soft pink, lips pouty and wet but he suddenly snapped out of it at the look of horror on your face and his stoic expression returned. He hastily moved over to the intercom, completely avoiding your gaze as he spoke into it and you couldn’t help the wave of embarrassment and nausea that rolled over you as you grabbed your purse and the halo, awkwardly putting it back on your head.

Your entire body was tingling and you wanted to cry over the fact you weren’t sure if you wanted to jump Mason or slap him because he’d touched you and you’d liked it. You always thought there was underlying tension between the two of you but you felt humiliated over the fact you’d actually let him kiss you despite the fact he’d told you he hated you.

“(Y/N)-“

“Don’t.” You refused to meet his eyes, gaze trained on the buttons that had finally lit back up as the lift jolted back to life. “We’re gonna leave here and we’re gonna pretend none of that happened okay? None of it. If anyone asks we spent the whole time ignoring each other.” Relief flooded through you at the thought of getting out and all you wanted now was to wash the memory of Mason’s hands on you away with a bottle of vodka.

The lift shuddered to a stop again but this time the doors started to slide open and the sound of music and laughter filtered through. You finally lifted your gaze to Mason’s to see he was already watching you, that familiar glare back.

“Forget it all, Mount. Nothing happened.”

“Seriously? We’re really gonna play this game again?” He sounded angry, angrier than he’d ever sounded but you caught the undertone of hurt in his voice as confusion at his words washed over you. Again? At your lack of response Mason scoffed. “Y’know what, fine, whatever you want, (Y/N). You just proved exactly what I meant about how stuck up you are.”

With that he stormed out of the lift, hair still a complete mess and disappeared down the hallway. You were left staring after him, eyebrows drawn together, skin still tingling. You had no idea what game he was talking about, you’d never spent enough time with Mason to establish any games but you had no time to think too hard about his words because Ben was coming towards you.

“Oh I think you’ve pissed Mase off beyond measure tonight, he’s gone straight for the whisky, what did you do?”

[mimicry741]

I RAN OUT OF SPACE IN THE TAGS SO I'M JUST GONNA DUMP MY SCREAMING UP HERE BECAUSE I AM UNWELL I AM INSANE I AM FOAMING AND FROTHING AND GOING FERAL OVER THIS I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU!!!!!!

I am free of my shackles I can take as many big chunks and commas as I want now I should not have been granted this power but I will use it only for adoration and appreciation!

“Spencer what time is it my love?” “You shouldn’t call me stuff like that.” it is like,,, paragraph 2 and I am already making ungodly sounds babes you can't do this to me this early

“I went for drinks with a girl but she didn’t like me“ ”Aw baby. You’re cheating on me?” “I’m afraid so” NOT THE I'M AFRAID SO!

'Spencer called you twice to save him. Even if he doesn’t remember, he’s called you to come and get him when he knows he needs help, and that realisation is hard to ignore.' DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING TO ME!? I AM SCALING THE WALLS OF MY ENCLOSURE AND GOING INSANE

“I annoy people.” “You don’t annoy me.” AOUGH.

'You hang up the call and put your phone in your pocket. Spencer gasps like he’s been smacked and picks his own phone up from the bar clicking at buttons with clumsy fingers. "No,” he hums sadly.' OH MY FUCKING GOD ARE YOU KIDDING ME I NEED TO GO HOME I AM UNWELL! the little gasp! I bet that man even *slumped!* deflated even!

'It doesn’t feel like the best time to bring up how much you like him. You’re sure he thinks you’re kidding, doesn’t everybody? Don’t torture him, they say. Don’t toy with him. Every time you flirt with him the team acts like you can’t mean it, and for a while it worked for you; you weren’t in love with Spencer. You weren’t playing with his feelings, but you didn’t love him, and then you joined the team and got to know him, watched him fluster at every comment you made or under any soft looking and realised you could love him. It was easy to fall for him. You liked doing it.' Oh. My. *Lord.* this whole chunk. This whole entire piece right here. 'It was easy to fall for him. You liked doing it.' I am in shambles. I am in pieces. This is a poem, this is a love song in itself, I am losing my marbles

“But she didn’t– she didn’t– it’s hard to talk. She didn’t listen like you do,” he says, lightly slurring, “she just stared at me like everyone used to in high school. Like she could tell there’s something wrong with me.” "-I don’t feel like there’s something wrong with me,” —his voice turns to a nearly indistinguishable mumble— “but everyone else always does.” How am I supposed to read this and its adjacent parts and be able to only pick small parts out to highlight as my favorite?? How, when every sentence is so good? also people need to stop staring blankly at him! like damn bitch you never learned how to be polite?? at least pretend to be interested! I would pay real money to be able to listen to a Spencer Reid podcast that's just him meandering around for hours talking about whatever he comes up with and they're getting it for free??

“Is that why you make all your jokes?” “What jokes, babe?” “Like that! Like babe. It’s funny ‘cos you’d never date me.” You’d slow if he weren’t already walking at a snail's pace. “That’s not true. Let’s talk about it in the morning, okay?” oh the heartbreak! the way you just cracked open my ribs and punched me in the heart?? please remove yourself from my organs I need those!

“I wish I wasn’t so weird,” he whines. It’s playful at the forefront but desperate otherwise, and it gives you pause. “I wish I was normal, and you could like me normal.” He’s looking at you like he’s begging you to disagree with him. You’re happy to. “Spencer, I like you like this,” AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!

“But you’re perfect,” he says, puzzled. 

“To you. And you’re perfect to me. So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do.” I am wailing. I am sobbing. I am unhinged, throwing myself onto the bed and kicking my feet. But you're *perfect*, he says, puzzled! as though he can't possibly fathom the idea that you're not! as though there cannot exist a world in his mind where that statement isn't true! I am so god damned NORMAL about EVERYTHING but ESPECIALLY YOU AND YOUR WORDS AND THE WAY YOU WEAVE THEM TOGETHER THE WAY YOU DO

'Spencer’s half sick with dehydration and half grief. He stayed at your house last night and he was too drunk to be nosy. He slept in your bed. He slept in your bed. He woke up to you at your vanity doing your hair, the nutty smell of hair oil mixed with the heat of the hair tool on high and realised with a start that he’d missed something he thought about all the time.' ALL THE TIME!? HE THINKS ABOUT IT ALL THE TIME! half sick with dehydration and grief oh my god......

'He didn’t dream, but if he had, it would’ve been another agonising wish where you were his girlfriend, or his wife, or just there looking at him with love. He wakes up feeling sick because it isn’t true.' presented without comment because I'm too busy going insane and losing my mind and crying I think

'Your tone is off. No flirtatiousness, no endless confidence, you sound wistful, like you’re glad he said it.' YEAH BUDDY GUESS WHAT! ITS NOT JUST LIKE!

“Gonna touch your hair,” you say, giving him enough time to move away as you reach out and rake back his fringe. His heart leaps into his mouth. “You said something last night like that, you know? Do you remember that? You said if you were normal.” You grace the skin beside his eye with the tip of your thumb, your perfume floating his way as you move.' THE WARNING! THE OPPORTUNITY TO MOVE AWAY! THE WAY HE DOESN'T!! I AM SICK! I AM UNWELL!

'You draw a short, silken line down his cheek with the side of your pinky. To be touched so lightly has his stomach in knots —he’s not shocked by the swiftness with which your affection can make a bad situation good again.' Oh he deserves such softness, he deserves the world, he deserves someone to adore him.

𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

Spencer calls you drunk and in need of rescue. You confess a few secrets to him while he won’t remember them (or so you think). 3k, fem

cw drunk!spencer, mentioned past drug use, confident/bombshell!reader, flirting, spencer getting some well deserved comfort, a handful of his drunken compliments, insecurity, intense mutual pining

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’re blissfully sleeping in the arms of a REM cycle when your phone rings. It pulls you by the chest, a punch of shock and expectancy at once. It’ll be someone calling you into work, Hotch himself if you’re lucky. 

You search blindly for your phone. If you’re even luckier, it’ll be a wrong number. Your fingers curl around the little body of your phone and you bring it to your ear without checking the number, frazzled. “Hello?” you ask hoarsely. 

Total quiet. 

“Hello?” You pull the screen away. The caller reads: SPENCER. You pull it back rather than hang up. “Hey, Spencer. Are you there?” 

“Hello.” He laughs. “Hello, are you there?” 

“I’m here, Spencer, where are you?” 

“That’s an interesting question, actually, and I’m sure there’s a great answer, but…” 

“But what?” You sit up quickly, your throat aching with sleep. Your room is black as coal pitch. “Spencer, what time is it, my love?” 

“You shouldn’t call me stuff like that.” 

“Stop being weird and tell me where you are.” 

He laughs like a hyena. You can see it in your mind, his smile and all his pearly perfect teeth. You love it when he smiles like that and he rarely ever does. “I’m somewhere and I need your help getting home!” he says with another funny laugh. 

“Are you alright? You sound…” He sounds inebriated. 

Spencer struggled with his drug problem for so long before you found out. You just hadn’t been around enough, and when you were he’d gotten good at hiding it. You can still remember how furious you’d been with everyone, including him, because you could’ve helped, would’ve done anything to support him through it. If he’s hurting now and hasn’t told you, you love him, but you’ll be insanely angry. 

“Spencer?” you ask quietly. 

“I went for drinks with a girl but she didn’t like me and I may have drowned my sorrows too much,” he admits. “Um. Did you know gin is very strong?” 

“Aw, baby. You’re cheating on me?” 

“I’m afraid so,” he says, and hiccups. 

“Where are you?” 

After some hassle wherein you persuade Spencer to give the phone to someone else in the bar for a slightly less drunk interrogation, you dress and gather your bearings for the drive. You zip a hoodie up over your pyjamas, stuff your feet into some old converse, and set out into the dark to find him. 

He calls you again as you’re parking. “Hello,” he says as soon as you answered. “I need you to come and get me.” 

Spencer called you twice to save him. Even if he doesn’t remember, he’s called you to come and get him when he knows he needs help, and that realisation is hard to ignore. “Spencer, I’m two minutes away, I’m parking. You’re still where you were?” 

“Where was I?” 

“At the bar, sweetheart. Are you still there?” It’s scarily dark out and you didn’t grab any sort of defensive measure before you came, which you regret now, climbing out of your car to walk the dimly lit road. The bar glows like a beacon to be followed. 

“Still where?” 

“Did you hit your head?” 

“Not to my knowledge. Though I’m not sure I have much right now. I feel like I’m forgetting everything I’ve ever read, and I’ve read a lot. You know I can read about eighty average length novels in one hour on an e-reader? The buttons make it faster.” 

“You haven’t told me that before.” You shiver against the nighttime winds, footsteps heavy on the grey sidewalk. 

“I’m trying to be more conversational. Emily says it’s not working.” 

“You’re conversational. Isn’t the only condition of being conversational to prompt a conversation? We’re always talking.” 

“…What?” 

You laugh like crazy. “Spencer, you don’t need to change the way you talk.” 

“I annoy people.” 

“You don’t annoy me.” 

You approach the door of the bar, a ramshackle sheet of plywood over what looks to be a glass door. The bar building seems in similar dessaray, with modern features wrecked by scratches and smashed panes. It’s a real dive. Spencer couldn’t have meant to come here. 

You war with both hands to open the door and find yourself faced with a long and empty corridor leading to another door. Worried you’re going to get kidnapped, you bring the phone back to your ear, Spencer’s chatting an immediate greeting. “…telling me I’m doing something wrong without telling me what it is, it’s impossible.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, can you come to the door?” 

“I don’t think I have control of my legs,” he says without inflection. 

“It’s definitely the building with the smashed door?” 

“Yesssss. Are you here?” he asks excitedly. 

“I better not get murdered, Spencer Reid.” 

“Am I in trouble?” 

“How are you even keeping the phone to your ear right now?” 

“I’m on speaker phone. Milly showed me how to do it. Say hi, Milly.” 

“Hi Milly,” a new voice says. 

You rub your eyes with one hand and square your shoulders, prepared to defend yourself if the creepy door leads to a creepier room. 

Spencer is immediately visible from the get go. You open the door on to a rather cosy looking bar, which you’re thinking might be the whole point; wretched exterior, secret attraction. Warm orange light ebbs into the space from sconces and a faux fireplace, while a wrestling match playing from the small TV behind the bar casts brighter light down onto Spencer’s shoulders. He looks out of place, dressed in a white oxford shirt and a suit jacket, his tie loosened and hanging from either side of his neck, compared to the lingering patrons who sit dotted around the room in booths and on barstools. One such patron sits in a plaid shirt and a trucker hat, her hair to her back, thick and dark. 

You hang up the call and put your phone in your pocket. Spencer gasps like he’s been smacked and picks his own phone up from the bar, clicking at buttons with clumsy fingers. “No,” he hums sadly. 

“Spencer,” you say, not wanting to disturb the people spending their sorry-looking night here. “Spencer. Hey, Spence!” 

His phone tips between his fingers. The woman you assume to be Milly catches it and offers it back without looking too far from her beer. 

“Hey,” you say gently, crossing a wide empty space to meet him. The room itself is shaped like a horseshoe, the bar taking up a surprising amount in the centre, and booths and tables placed around it. Spencer’s off of his barstool as you approach, eyes like puppy dog’s, arms extended. “You okay?” you ask. 

You can feel eyes on you both from every angle, but it doesn’t matter, not when Spencer’s falling into your arms (or on to them —he’s surprisingly tall when you aren’t wearing heels). “You alright?” you ask again. 

“You don’t have to be worried, I’m fine.” 

He’s less coordinated in real life than he’d sounded over the phone, his slurring unmissable, his hands like jumping fish as he tries to hug you. It’s weird and straining to take his weight but you do it without complaint. He smells the same, at least, only his cedary cologne is sharpened by the tang of gin on his breath. 

“Thank god you’re here,” he whispers. 

“Why?” you ask, pulling away to check for danger. 

“I missed you.” 

“I missed you too, handsome,” you say, genuine but laying it on thick simultaneously as you ease his head back to cup his cheek. You can’t help yourself. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever met, and it gets worse every year. 

He frowns at you deeply. “I don’t like first dates.” 

“Then don’t go on them,” you suggest, “you don’t need to until you’re ready.” 

“I’m ready for love,” he says. You pull your lips into a flattened line, unsure of what to say, how to explain that it’s waiting for him, but his chin dips towards his neck and his eyes lock onto your face. “You’re not wearing makeup. God, you’re so pretty.” 

You flinch away from him. “Fuck, Spencer.”

“I’m sorry! It’s not that you don’t look pretty with makeup, but I never see you without it!” 

You’d forgotten you weren’t wearing any. Makeup isn’t a shield, exactly, but you like putting your best foot forward, so to speak. You’ve no clue what you look like tonight, hadn’t managed to look in the mirror, you’d been focused on getting to Spencer before he got lost. You can imagine the puffiness.

Spencer touches your cheek. You let him turn you mostly because he’s surprised you, his eyes roving up and down your face with a fawning curiosity. 

“You’re beautiful. You know that already, but people don’t tell you enough,” he says, his hand falling from your cheek. 

“Spencer,” you say softly, “let’s get you home.” 

You thank Milly for her help and grab Spencer’s bag from the floor to hang on your shoulder. You’d make a joke about how heavy it was if you didn’t think he’d take it from you, and, considering how drunk he is, topple over from the imbalance it provides. His shirt is clammy where you push your hand through his arm to link them, his footsteps wobbly. 

“I didn’t want to go on a date,” he says. 

“Then why did you go?” you ask, helping him over the door jam into the long hallway. 

“I don’t want to be alone forever.” 

“Spencer, you won’t be.” It doesn’t feel like the best time to bring up how much you like him. You’re sure he thinks you’re kidding, doesn’t everybody? Don’t torture him, they say. Don’t toy with him. Every time you flirt with him the team acts like you can’t mean it, and for a while it worked for you; you weren’t in love with Spencer. You weren’t playing with his feelings, but you didn’t love him, and then you joined the team and got to know him, watched him fluster at every comment you made or under any soft looking and realised you could love him. It was easy to fall for him. You liked doing it. But now he’s determined to write your affection off as a joke and going on dates? 

In the morning, when he’s sober, you’ll have to tell him how you feel. Or you could let him find someone more like him… ugh. It’s such a mess. 

You grapple with the size of your feelings for him as he hums and laughs his way down the hall to the glass door. On the street, he squints and straightens his back, fighting to regain his arm from your hold to cover your shoulder instead. “It’s cold,” he says in surprise. “You okay?” 

“I’m fine, I got my jacket. It’s a short walk, come on.”

His arm stops acting as protection and starts to use you for support. “I didn’t mean to drink so much.” 

“Drowning your sorrows is always a terrible idea because it tends to work,” you lament, less scared of the dark with him at your hip, though what protection he might offer is negated by the alcohol. 

“She kind of looked like you.” 

You squeeze your eyes together quickly. “Oh.” 

“I didn’t know she was going to. But she didn’t– she didn’t– it’s hard to talk. She didn’t listen like you do,” he says, lightly slurring, “she just stared at me like everyone used to in high school. Like she could tell there’s something wrong with me.” 

“Spencer, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“I know,” he says. 

“Do you?” 

“Yes.” He frowns. “No, I don’t know. I don’t feel like there’s something wrong with me,” —his voice turns to a nearly indistinguishable mumble— “but everyone else always does.” 

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.” 

“Is that why you make all your jokes?” 

“What jokes, babe?” 

“Like that! Like babe. It’s funny ‘cos you’d never date me.” 

You’d slow if he weren’t already walking at a snail's pace. “That’s not true. Let’s talk about it in the morning, okay?” 

“I won’t remember to ask you in the morning.” 

“Spencer, you remember everything.” 

He drags his feet. “I wish I wasn’t so weird,” he whines. It’s playful at the forefront but desperate otherwise, and it gives you pause. “I wish I was normal, and you could like me normal.” 

You look down at your hands, panicking, a flash of Is this a good idea? like an alarm in your head as you turn on the sidewalk to face him. He’s looking at you like he’s begging you to disagree with him. 

You’re happy to. 

“Spencer, I like you like this,” you insist loudly. His eyes and all his sweet lashes track the movement of your hand as you touch your chest, and your neck. “You’re not normal, I’m not normal. Do you know how many times I’ve been rejected? Just for being me? I’m too bossy, too outspoken, too– too high maintenance. I've had friends with good intentions tell me I need to lower my standards, need to relax, because otherwise I’m going to end up alone for the rest of my life. I feel alone all the time.”

“But you’re perfect,” he says, puzzled. 

“To you. And you’re perfect to me.” Your hand crawls to the base of your throat. “So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. You think I’d come and get anybody else in the middle of the night dressed like this?” you ask him, gesturing to your ratty pyjamas and your dingy converse. 

“You look so cute,” he says mournfully. 

You roll your eyes. He’s too wasted for this conversation. “Come on, sweetheart. You can think about this too much in the morning. Let’s just get home in one piece.” Physically and emotionally. 

“Can I come home with you?” he asks. 

That had always been the plan. “Ask me nicely and I’ll consider it on the way.” 

— — 

Spencer shuts his eyes, hands itching to clap over his ears as you scratch the head of a spatula across your frying pan. “Is three eggs too many? People usually have two but that’s never enough for me.” 

“I think…” Oh my god the metal screeching is so loud. “You should have as many as you want. You know your body. There’s this study on intuitive eating…” I'm too hungover for this. “Three eggs is better than two.” 

“So you want three?” 

He cannot eat right now. “Yes. Please.” 

Spencer’s half sick with dehydration and half grief. He stayed at your house last night and he was too drunk to be nosy. He slept in your bed. He slept in your bed. He woke up to you at your vanity doing your hair, the nutty smell of hair oil mixed with the heat of the hair tool on high and realised with a start that he’d missed something he thought about all the time. 

You’d tipped your head back to smile at him. “There’s my boy. Sweet dreams?” 

He didn’t dream, but if he had, it would’ve been another agonising wish where you were his girlfriend, or his wife, or just there looking at him with love. He wakes up feeling sick because it isn’t true. And now you’re making him breakfast, humming a tune under your breath, sourdough sizzling under the grill and a shoddily blended avocado sitting in the bowl in front of him. 

You asked him for one thing. He picks up the fork and starts to mash the avocado again. He can’t fight the foreignness of sitting in your kitchen, a gap in his memory. 

He knows he told you about his date, how she looked like you, how she didn’t seem to like him much, but he’s struggling to collect the finer details. Why had you picked him up? He must’ve called you, but you could’ve said no. He remembers thinking you looked beautiful, but he always thinks that. 

The avocado is making him feel sick. 

“Here,” you say, sliding a plate of toast in front of him. “Do you want butter?” 

“I think I'm gonna throw up.” 

“You’re okay.”

“I can’t believe how I acted,” he says, pressing his palms to the hollows of his eyes. 

You turn off the hob. Fat bubbles and pops until it’s cooled. The clock on the wall by the refrigerator ticks incessantly. His slept-in shirt feels too tight despite the undone button. 

“Hey…” You round the island but don’t touch him, your voice gentle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

He drags his hands down his face. “I can barely remember what I said.” 

“You were really nice to me… told me I looked pretty without my makeup, n’ that I was perfect. You were really nice.” 

Your tone is off. No flirtatiousness, no endless confidence, you sound wistful, like you’re glad he said it. You take the bowl of avocado he’s made a mess with and put it aside with the toast, resting your arm on the counter, and leaning into his space. “Spencer, last night? You didn’t do anything to be embarrassed of. You were nice, and kind. You tried to open the car door for me and you almost lost your eye, but you were fine. You don’t have anything to be worried about, really.”

“But it’s you.” 

“Gonna touch your hair,” you say, giving him enough time to move away as you reach out and rake back his fringe. His heart leaps into his mouth. “You said something last night like that, you know? Do you remember that? You said if you were normal.” You grace the skin beside his eye with the tip of your thumb, your perfume floating his way as you move. “And I said–”

“I’m not normal,” he says, remembering now. 

You’re not normal, I’m not normal, you’d said.

But you’re perfect, he’d said. 

To you. And you’re perfect to me.

“Right. We’re not normal, Spencer Reid, so forget that girl. She didn’t deserve you anyways,” you say. 

You draw a short, silken line down his cheek with the side of your pinky. To be touched so lightly has his stomach in knots —he’s not shocked by the swiftness with which your affection can make a bad situation good again. 

You turn away. “Now we should eat before everything goes cold.” 

He watches your shoulders move, and he remembers one last detail. So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. 

The way you’d said it… you couldn’t really mean…

“How’s your appetite? Still feeling sick?” you ask. 

Spencer smiles to himself, the ghost of your touch glowing warm on his cheek. “I’m feeling a lot better, actually.” 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading!!! please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed, i appreciate anything and it always inspires me to write more<3!! my requests are pretty much always open for bombshell!reader (even though this one strays a bit from their usual story haha) so if you wanna see more let me know❤️

[useless-bi-otch]

Cookies'n Cream - Chapter 30

Last chapter / MasterList / art by @aneenasevla

Chapter 30 - Fragile Heart

.

"And then he said… and I'm not even kidding… 'behave'. 'Behave’, for fuck's sake!," Okubo opens his arms, indignant. "As if his sister's house was a fucking nunnery and he was Mother Superior! Sounds like a fucking joke, right?"

The laughter of the four echoed in Kaneda's apartment, when Okubo told the story that happened in Tomori's house. Rihito couldn't take it anymore and held his belly, squawking, while Himuro punched the couch, with tears in his eyes.

"Awww, fuck, I'm gonna barf...," Rihito groans between laughs. "I've heard about cockblocking, but that's ridiculous, man! Her older brother? Are you serious?!"

"It even seems like it was premeditated," Himuro comments, wiping the tears with the back of his right hand. "Does he feel when his sister is about to be banged or something? Like a spidey sense?"

"Naah, he's just that nosy. Tomori said he shows up unannounced at her house from time to time," Okubo snorts. "But we weren't expecting it to be right when we were about to get busy!"

“Well, I'm glad that happened with the door already closed, otherwise this would have been the world's most embarrassing brother-in-law introduction,” Kaneda chuckles, pouring sake into the glasses of all four of them. Okubo makes a face.

"Don't even tell me, I'm glad Tomori warned me and I ran upstairs to wait for her signal. A little longer and he would have asked me if I was moving there."

"Why?"

"Because my trunk was ready to unload."

They burst out laughing again, which only intensifies when Rihito actually falls off the couch. After finally calming down, Rihito sits on the floor and wipes his face.

"So you mean that now you're finally dating and you're already set to meet her parents?," Himuro asks. "Damn, that escalated quickly."

"I know, right! Like, I don't have much experience in that department, but isn't there a whole process?," Rihito completes, to which Kaneda lets out another laugh.

"I'm thinking that, after all this time, they are already tired of so many processes, hahaha!"

"One more process and this guy ends up in jail," Himuro jokes, and Rihito claps his hand in a high five, both bursting out laughing again.

"Yeah, I can't even disagree with this one," Okubo laughs a little, embarrassed. "But yeah, guys, I honestly don't care. I like her that much, but I agree that this is moving kinda fast. I wanted to enjoy this a little more too... but that's the song that's playing now. You have to dance accordingly, right?"

"Yeah, when life gives you lemons…," Kaneda nods. "At least you have the advantage there. If her parents are as fanatical about martial arts as she is, they'll welcome you with the greatest excitement in the world."

“Bro, that'd be kind of embarrassing too."

"Yeah, but their daughter must have gotten the crazy genes from somewhere, right? Haha!"

"Fair enough," Rihito laughs too. "You just have to be careful not to say some stupid shit, then you're all set. But holy shit, I would've been pissed off about the cockblocking…"

"Oh, but I was," Okubo smiles maliciously. "So much so that I kept cursing and mocking him in my thoughts. Tomori even joined in on the joke too, especially when I said that I love anything she does for me so much that I want to reciprocate accordingly."

Rihito and Himuro laugh devilishly, while Kaneda makes a sympathetic face.

“Look, it was kinda wrong, but he deserved that."

"Hey, Kaneda, don't you have three sisters? I thought you'd understand her brother's neurosis more than any of us," Rihito jokes, and Kaneda snorts.

"Three older sisters! And I don't give a damn about what they do with their husbands, as long as I don't hear details," He shivers in disgust. "But I don't know, with a younger sister it must be different..."

"I have no idea," Himuro shrugs.

"If I had a little sister…," Rihito crosses his arms, thinking. "I have no idea either. I’m not part of the 'happy family' team, so..."

“Anyway, at least things didn't get tense. If he asked you for an autograph and everything...," Kaneda shrugs. "Damn, Okubo, this really seems like fate. Finding a girlfriend who comes from a family of martial arts lovers... must be every fighter's dream, haha."

"Hahaha… I'm also surprised," he scratches the back of his neck. "To be honest, that's one of the reasons why I like it so much, it was something that brought us together."

"Yeah, then enjoy it bro," Himuro crosses his arms. "But speaking of enjoying it… so, did you tell her about the Kengan matches?"

"Yes, after we left your apartment that day," Rihito straightens up on the sofa, attentive. "Agito didn’t hold his fucking tongue…"

"I… sort of explained that I can't take her to one right away," Okubo frowns. "All that boring politics stuff and whatnot. But I promised I'll see what I can do when I'm sure it's safe. She seems to understand this time."

"Be careful with those 'see what I can do' lines. If you give them too much, she might think you're stringing her along," Kaneda warns. "And it's already clear that she doesn't like that at all."

"Yup, the worst thing is when a woman decides to snoop around on her own…," Rihito grunts. "They get worse than a detective."

“Yeah, I'm seeing this firsthand,” Okubo rolls his eyes a little. And then he smiled. "But she said that this insistence is more out of concern for me than out of distrust. That she's worried for me... damn, she's so cute!," He punches a pillow in a violent outburst of cuteness. "I wish I could put her in my pocket and carry her everywhere, like a keychain!"

"Well, she's just the right size," "Rihito jokes. "She's just missing the ring and the chain."

"And she is not even that short, from the point of view of a normal person. You're the ones the size of a mammoth," Kaneda jokes, and the two gorillas laugh out loud. Himuro shakes his head.

"I hope I'm not included among the mammoths… anyway, when are you going to visit her parents' house, Okubo?"

"This weekend, if everything works out. On Saturday. Her dad even said he was going to organize a freaking barbecue. I was like 'okay, but I'll bring some meat too' and he was all happy. At least I liked it, he seems to be the guy who likes the good stuff, haha."

He expects them to respond in some way, but that response doesn't come. Himuro and Kaneda blink and squint at Lihito, who is still smiling, although that smile now seems a bit more rigid.

"This weekend? That's- That's really soon, don't ya think?"

"Oh, is it too soon? I can call and say I might end up not going-"

"No, bro, it's cool, it's just that we were kinda surprised," Himuro tries to dismiss the conversation. "We thought, like, it was going to be the other month, or I don't know, on someone's birthday…"

"But that's the thing, it's her old man's birthday…," Okubo smiles, a little embarrassed. "I'm even thinking about giving him some of my stuff, or a shirt like that…," He notices the mood. "Guys, what's going on? Everything is so tense that I could cut it with a knife."

Before Himuro or Kaneda can say anything, Rihito steps forward and claps Okubo on the shoulder, smiling more naturally.

"Chill out, we're just surprised how fast everything is going! Especially considering how slow you were before," He settles down on the sofa again. "But if you feel the time is right for this, then go for it! Do not hesitate and seize the moment. The sooner you win Tomori's family over, the sooner her brother will get outta your back!"

Himuro and Kaneda stare at Rihito for a few seconds before turning to Okubo, just waiting for his answer.

"Well… I even like things to be moving along, and I'll admit that I'm finding it strange too, but not so much. I'm glad you don't think it's bad, considering what you were saying at the beginning."

"The beginning was a huge drama, now things worked out," Himuro shrugs. "We're happy for you now, and that's all."

"Yes! Good luck there," Kaneda nods. "And don't get too nervous, act as naturally as you can."

"Okubo’s 'naturalness' is not what most people are used to..."

"Considering Tomori loves his nature and the rest of the family seems to be just as crazy, that's exactly how he has to act."

They laugh, the tension melting away. Okubo ends up laughing too. Maybe it was just the surprise, after all...

"Well, I feel much better now, to be honest," he crosses his arms. "Now I just need to see how I'm going to explain things to Tomori… maybe if I take her to a match in which none of you are involved… how about that? One with Ohma? She already knows he's a fighter, it's good that I already explained that to her. Do you know when he's going to fight, guys?"

There are a few more seconds of silence, too long for Okubo's tastes. And this time it is Kaneda who answers:

"This very weekend. Damn, we even forgot..."

"Not me," Rihito says suddenly. "I already knew that Seaweed Head was going to fight. I heard a few days ago..."

"Oh… is the opponent someone strong? By the looks of you it must be, I just hope he doesn't overdo it again. He has this obsession," nods. "And you, Rihito? Do you have a match scheduled? If Tomori is to be taken, it's good that… huh… no, your Razor will scare the crap outta her. Himuro?"

"Oh no, I'm free," Rihito smiles. "I have nothing scheduled."

Himuro frowns and Kaneda opens his mouth, wanting to say something, but is interrupted when Rihito leaps up from the sofa, slapping his hands on his pants.

"Hey, let's try the beers I brought? I know that you're not big fans of mixing, but I don't feel like wasting it."

And he quickly leaves the couch, going to the kitchen to open the fridge. The other three watch him walk away, Okubo confused, Himuro and Kaneda looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Dude… is there something going on that I don't know about?," Okubo asks, frowning. Himuro sighs.

"Nah, relax... I'll help him with the beers, he brought at least a couple of cases and I imagine you don't want to risk spilling anything on your rug, right, Kaneda?"

"Oh yes. Thanks, Himuro," Kaneda nods. Himuro goes after Rihito, and when Okubo looks even more flustered, he quickly changes the subject, "So, you were talking about giving Tomori's father a birthday gift, right? What will it be? This is going to be your chance to make a good first impression, after all."

"Yes, I'm thinking of giving a shirt or a new wallet, or even a really cool watch. I'll ask Tomoh what he likes…," Okubo scratches his chin thoughtfully.

"Hnnn... the shirt wouldn't be like the ones you gave Tomori, would it? With your face printed on the chest..."

"Of course not, damn it! I could give him one with Sekibayashi's face, maybe, but if it were with mine it could sound pretty self-centered..."

"Wow, so did you decide to put that silly jealousy aside and accept that Seki's popularity is inescapable?"

"Hey, hey, why would I be jealous in this situation? I'm into the guy's daughter, not him!"

Kaneda laughed loud enough for Rihito and Himuro to hear from the kitchens. Himuro crosses his arms as he watches Rihito take four cans from a bale.

"Don't you want to spoil our movie night? Is that why you decided to lie to Egghead?"

"Dammit, Himuro…," He grunts, rubbing his hair tiredly.​"What do you want me to do?," He hisses irritated, looking at his friend over his shoulder. "Want me to ruin his plans? Meeting your girl's parents is a hell of a step in a relationship!"

"I know, but don't you think he deserves a little consideration too? It is also an important thing for you. If he finds out you kept it from him, he'll be pissed."

"And you think I don't know that? Ugh...," He ran a hand over his face, getting up with the beers right after and closing the fridge with a slight push of his foot. "If I say so, he'll be all torn and act more neurotic than usual. He's going to feel like he's being forced to choose between his girlfriend and me. Then, to save time, I already made that choice for him. He can go see me fight any other day. That's not the case for Tomori's dad's birthday."

Himuro looks at him, and, in a rare situation, he sees him with a serious, even sad face. "… Are you sure, man?"

Rihito looks to the side, his mouth set in a hard line, before nodding.

"Yeah. I almost screwed things over for them once, dude. I won't risk doing that again."

"Got it…," Himuro nods, finally, letting him walk back to their friends, pretending to be in the kitchen still to get some snacks from the cupboard.

He knew that Rihito still felt guilty about what happened on that one horrible date, but apparently he put himself as a scapegoat and didn't want to admit that the mistake had been both his and Okubo's.

"Idiot," He puts some peanuts he found in the cupboard in a bowl. “A good friend, but will allow himself to be left out at an important moment like this when this 'meeting your girlfriend's folks' thing could've been postponed… idiot.”

 * * *

"Come on, Naoh, you don’t need to be nervous..."

Tomori's voice pulls Okubo out of the intense concentration he had forced himself into to chase away the anxious thoughts, his eyes fixed on the street as he drove. He stops at a red light, turning to look at her in the passenger seat. She was very well dressed, carrying a large cube-shaped box on her lap, looking up at him with those eyes that always seemed to be able to see right through him.

"Don't make that face at me, I can feel your anxiety from here."

"Oh, it's just that there's no way I can't be anxious," he smiles weakly. "I wonder what man wouldn't get tense when going to meet his girlfriend's folks. At least with the part about making a good impression."

"The thing is, you're already making one," She jokes, reaching a hand to gently squeeze his thigh. "Mom and Dad are barely containing themselves with excitement. They even gave up spending his birthday just the two of them just so they could meet you."

"Uh… I said they could postpone it if they could," he shakes his head. "I don't know… It's not like they're going to miss seeing me like they're going to lose one of my matches," He smiles to himself, "I'm glad for that, but I want to know them as a person, not as a fighter."

"I know, but remember that with us it was a whole process? It's the same with them," She shrugs a little. "A very quick way for them to start seeing you as their daughter's boyfriend, instead of the King of Combat, is to act like you act with me... only without the kisses, perverted jokes and the wandering hands," She jokes again, laughing at his face.

"Aaaaawwwww…," he whines playfully. "You mean without the best part?! That sucks," He laughs next with Tomori, not being able to stay serious for too long. "So… where do I go from here?"

"Keep going straight for another two kilometers, and then just turn right," She instructs. "They still complain that I moved too far from their neighborhood to this day, but it was the budget that would least harm my savings in the long run, haha."

"Well, that's life, I guess...," He sighs. "I also had to move to a more central place for work. My parents were upset, but they knew I was fine, and I would manage. I think it's the same with yours."

"Yes it was. And I still visit them quite often, so there is no empty nest syndrome. It will probably end when they finally have their first grandchild, haha," And she laughs, pointing to the path ahead. "Yes, now go straight and turn left at the third curve."

"Alright, I- g-grandchild?!," Okubo widens his eyes for a second. Then he remembers that she has a brother and immediately calms down. "Oh, yes, I got it…," he looks away, but she sees that he has turned very red. "Yes, yes, your brother and your sister-in-law, that's true…"

Tomori turns a little startled towards him, her eyes widening as she realizes what he understood. She blushes too, holding the box tighter. "Yeah- Yeah, that's what I was talking about, haha. They've been married for about six years, now it's just a matter of time... aah, we arrived!," She points, a little too agitated, when Okubo made the turn. "Let’s stop here, the street is one of those narrow ones that you can only pass by on a bicycle. It's the last house on the right."

"Oh yes, yes…," He clears his throat and parks the car, almost braking too hard. And he leaves the car in neutral, shaking a little. "Uuuf… this is when I hate to be anxious. I'm feeling like I'm going to fight, you know? Haha ha…"

"Hnnn… is this the first time you've met the parents of a girl you're dating?," she asks, and despite his embarrassment, he is kind of relieved to hear only curiosity in her voice, with no hint of accusation.

"Yeah. It's actually the first time I've even had a girlfriend," He admits, pouting. "So yeah, everything's pretty new for me."

"Jeez… seriously?," She blinks, surprised. "Wow… now I feel even more obligated to make this good for you! But oh, if it makes you feel better…," She reaches out and caresses his face. "This is the first time I bring a guy to my family to meet. So I'm also a little nervous, haha."

“That actually reassures me a little bit,” He smiles, leaning closer and placing a kiss on her cheek. Then he took the cap, put it on his head and nodded. "Okay, now I'm ready. Show time," he looked at her. "Shall we go?"

“Let's go,” She smiles, unbuckling her seat belt and grabbing the box as she climbs out of the car. There was already another car parked nearby; probably that of her brother and sister-in-law. So they were the last to arrive... he didn't know whether or not to be worried about the impression it would make.

To contain his nervousness, Okubo occupied himself with looking at Tomori's parents' house, which became more distinguishable as they walked. While their daughter had chosen a house in a neighborhood with more Western-style architecture, they were apparently more traditional. The house appears to have been built at the very end of the Showa period, being made of wood, topped with a gabled roof, and probably with a tatami mat floor. Tomori wasn't the traditional type, so it was a surprise to him that she had been raised in such a place.

"So… it's quite modest," She comments, noticing his expression as they approach the door. "But I grew up here, so I have a whole sentimental attachment, hahaha."

"I can imagine. I was raised on one of those too. It's charming," he smiles, taking his bags too. "I can already see the smoke, is it really going to be a barbecue?"

"Yes, we will have grilled meat and beef hot pot, Dad loves it," She nods smiling. "But Mom managed to convince him to add fried chicken to his birthday menu too. It's less oily,” She presses the bell, and it's not long before they start hearing voices, coming from inside.

"Honey, it must be Tomori!”

"Yeah, I heard it. I'll answer it-"

"No, I'll answer, I'm the hostess!"

"And I'm the birthday boy, woman, don't be stubborn!"

"Saeh, answer the door, please. Before these two start beating each other in front of our guest of honor."

They hear a woman's laughter, and soon, Saeko is opening the door for them. Tomori smiles and shows the box she was carrying.

"Hey, look who has arrived!"

"Hi," Okubo smiles, touching the brim of his cap. "Sorry for the delay. How are you?"

"We're good, just waiting for you to arrive. Hey, Tomoh," Saeko hugs her sister-in-law and bows politely to Okubo. "And it's good to see you again, Mr. Okubo. My in-laws will be so happy to see you."

"I hope they are happy to see their daughter too!," Tomori jokes, handing the box to Okubo so she can take off her shoes. "I spent the whole morning making his favorite."

"Chocolate with strawberries and kiwi?"

"Bingo! Girl, you can't imagine how expensive kiwis are..."

"I can, Tatsu and I went grocery shopping yesterday and he didn't stop complaining about the prices all the way back."

"He always does that, haha. But it was a good opportunity, because then I could teach Naoh how to pick fruit," Tomori smiles at her boyfriend, taking the box back so he could take off his shoes too.

"Thank you," he enters and takes off his shoes, entering with a very short ‘excuse me’. He couldn't forget about good manners, not when he was in this place. "Where… where is the birthday boy?," he asks almost automatically.

"Ooh, he's there in the living room. You arrived right on time, dinner is almost ready," Saeko indicates with one hand for them to follow her. "We'll go through the kitchen first, so you can leave the cake with your mother-"

"Tomooooh! You finally arrived!"

A woman's high-pitched voice reaches their ears as the sliding doors up ahead open and a lady who must have been in her fifties appears through them. At the very same time, Okubo was sure that this was Tomori's mother, because the two looked very similar, with the difference that the older woman had short hair, a few wrinkles on her face and was a little chubbier. The smile she opens when she sees the newcomers is also the same one her daughter gave every time she sees herself in front of one of her martial arts idols.

"Hey, Mom! Sorry we're late... but- but look who I brought along to make up for it," And she lets her mother get a good look at her boyfriend, all flushed, hugging the box.

"Oh, hi ma'am. Nice to meet you," he smiles, his cheeks red, bowing a bit awkwardly. "The- The delay was my fault, I had a little trouble finding the address and… uh…," He didn't know what else to say, his stomach doing some nasty somersaults. But it soon became clear that he didn't need to say much, because Mrs. Uta would say absolutely anything for him.

"It's okay, don't worry about it! What matters is that you arrived safely and in time to eat with us. Here, sweety, let me carry the box...," She caresses Tomori's face before turning to Okubo, looking absolutely delighted. "And the pleasure is all mine, Mr. Okubo... my God, I can't believe it, the Rocky of Osaka is here at my house, he will sit with us and eat my food...!"

"Mom, you're embarrassing him..."

"Don't take the joy out of the moment, Tomori, let me have at least that! Ooooh, just wait until the neighbors know...," She vibrates, curtsying too. "I hope my daughter isn't giving you any trouble."

"Oh… no… actually I think it's almost the opposite," he heard her speaking with a light accent from his homeland, so he felt strangely more at ease. "She's the one who needs to put up with me, ma'am. And… I brought some meat too!," he shows the bag in his right hand. "And this is Tomoh's father's gift," ​​He shows the other bag in his left hand.

"Oh, thank you very much! We can add it to the Hot Pot, Saeko brought bacon and I made soup in the afternoon. Would you like it? That's good," She coos. "But come in, come in, your father can't stand the anticipation! We couldn't believe it when you told us, Tomori..."

"Either I would or Tatsu would. And if he did, you would be angry that you didn't hear it from me."

"I'm glad you know that, young lady! You, huh...," She shakes her head disapprovingly. "Disregarding it when I commented on possible suitors, when you had already found such a match... is he the 'friend' you mentioned some time ago? My God, I can't believe you..."

"We were just getting to know each other, mom, it wasn't as serious as it is now...," Tomori mutters, mortified, but again, Mrs. Uta switches conversations at an alarming rate.

"True, that is a story we very much want to hear. How did you guys meet... come on, go to the living room, Dad and Tatsu are waiting there! Make the introductions, Tomoh, and then come help Saeh and me in the kitchen, will you? Oh, have you tried her cooking, Mr. Okubo? My daughter still needs to hone many of her feminine qualities, but her cooking is on point!," She strokes Tomori's shoulder, who was getting redder by the minute.

"Oh, I tried it first hand," He smiles. "But I’ll tell you the story of how I tried it later, excuse me," He leaves the bag full of meat with her. "Oh, but set aside some of it for the barbecue too, I bought some slices for that."

Seeing that Tomori's mother paid attention to his request, he looks at her next. "Come on, introduce me to the much-talked-about Mr. Uta."

Despite the embarrassment, Tomori ends up laughing.

"You're speaking so formally… concerned about the prospect of meeting your girlfriend's father? Don't worry, he's a lot less scary than Mom."

"You watch your mouth, missy! But yes, Mr. Okubo, there's nothing to worry about," Ms. Uta guarantees, in a motherly tone. "To be honest, he's even more nervous than you are, haha."

“He's going to be so mad if he finds out you said that, Mrs. Fujiko,” Saeko jokes, and Mrs. Uta waved her hand.

"That's why he doesn't need to find out. Our secret, huh," She winks. "But come on, and make yourself comfortable, Mr. Okubo! We'll be right here if you need anything," And she does another exaggerated bow.

"Ma'am, please, I'm just your daughter's boyfriend, there's no need to be so formal," he smiles, embarrassed, waving a hand. "I want to know you better, not bend you in half, ahahhaa."

The three women stare at him, blinking in surprise. And Mrs. Uta blushed a little.

"Ooh… to hear that from a fighter of your level is kinda scary… and kinda exciting too, hahaha!," She touches the side of her face with one hand. "Tell that to her Dad and he'll be happy, that crazy old man..."

"Uh, I didn't mean it literally...," he sighs, pouting and getting even redder, his hand on his face. "Okay, Tomori, please take me to your father before I talk more nonsense and make a fool of myself even more."

“Okay, okay… making a fool of yourself is basically a rite of passage around here, which means you're doing great,” Tomori laughs, also embarrassed, guiding Okubo to the sliding doors while Mrs. Uta cooed with her daughter-in-law.

"Did you see it, Saeh? He blushed like a high schooler, so cute! I'm glad Tomoh found someone like that... and of course, him having such a refined grappling technique is a huge bonus too..."

Saeko just laughed, knowing how the couple was mortified by that conversation.

"Ur… sorry about that. She doesn't hold her tongue when she's excited," Tomori whispers.

"Me neither, we're even," He laughs softly, now more relieved. "I consider this a Mid-Diff, now comes round two."

"Good luck, I'll hope for a tie," Tomori jokes, opening the sliding doors, which led directly to the living room.

The first thing Okubo noticed was that if Tomori's living room was some kind of hall of fame honoring martial artists, her parents' living room was a fucking temple. Holy shit, all those posters and photographs, many of legendary fighters from the last century that he hadn't even had the opportunity to meet... there was even a fight being broadcast on the old tube television on the huge wooden rack, which consisted of a furniture with several shelves containing picture frames, books and even vinyl records... dammit, was that a record player near the tv?! He wanted to get closer to inspect, but the sight of the men in the center of the room prevented him.

"Look who arrived! Hey Tomori ,Okubo! You're a little late," Tatsuhiko comments after greeting them; he was wearing a button-down shirt, slacks and a tie; he had probably gone straight from work to his parents' house. "Why did you take so long?"

Okubo would have loved to respond with an 'I was banging your sister and I forgot about the time', but he didn't for two reasons. The first was that he didn't want to embarrass Tomori or piss her brother off any more than was appropriate.

And the second was that saying that sort of thing in front of your girlfriend's father would be like signing your moral death certificate.

"Tatsu, stop it…," The fifty-year old man, sitting with his eldest son around the coffee table, warns with a snort. "Wha- What will your sister's boyfriend think, huh? And hi, honey."

"Hi Dad! How's the birthday boy?," She asks, smiling affectionately. "Taking the medicine that your daughter so kindly sought for you?"

"If I don't, your mother dissolves them in my beer or chops them up and mixes them with food, as if I'm a dog. I have no choice...," He snorted impatiently, although his tone was affectionate. And then his eyes, brown and warm like his children's, meet Okubo's. He tries to keep his composure, but the glow in them was unmistakable.

Even sitting down, he could see that he was taller and more slender than his wife, but his beer belly was evident behind the fabric of his shirt. His black hair was already turning gray at the temples, as was his beard full of silver flecks. And despite the wrinkles, crow's feet, and frown lines, he had a rather jovial air about him. It must have been the look of excitement on her face. Hell, it really ran in the family.

"Hello," he smiles, stepping forward and bowing. "Mr. Uta. Happy birthday. I brought this," he offers the gift. "Tomoh helped me choose."

Tatsuhiko crosses his arms and nods approvingly, his expression serious. Mr. Uta, on the other hand, looked shy despite his clear excitement. He slowly rises from the cushion he's been sitting on and returns the bow a little more calmly than his wife, but still looking flustered.

"It's a pleasure, Okubo! And- and it's an honor to welcome you here... sorry for the mess...," He gestures to the room, to which Tomori makes a sympathetic expression.

"Dad, relax. He's just as happy to be here as you are to have him here. Won't you get your gift?"

"Oh, I will, of course! Thank you very much," He picks up the box that the bald man was holding out. "My God, you... you're really tall, aren't you? My Tomori looks even smaller by comparison, haha..."

"Dad...," Tomori puffs out her cheeks, embarrassed, while Tatsuhiko giggles.

"Ahaha… yeah…," Okubo smiles. "But outside the octagon, I'm all size and no sense, sir. I just need to be careful not to hit the ceiling or door frames, haha."

He just hoped his big mouth wouldn't get ahead of him today.

"Yeah, every good fighter is only intimidating in the ring. It is the mark of self-control and commitment to sport. Someone who doesn't know how to contain himself outside these areas doesn't deserve to be called a professional," He says, and now his voice sounded much firmer, confident. And then he winces his shoulders again, looking shy. "Oh, but- but that’s just my opinion as an old man who has never worn a boxing glove in his life…"

"Naoh will love to hear your opinions, Dad. He talks about martial arts with me as well, he can talk to you too," Tomori guarantees, moving forward and stroking his bearded face. "Happy birthday, ok? I made your favorite cake!"

"Chocolate with strawberries and kiwi? You're too good to me, Tomoh," He touches her face too, gently squeezing her cheeks. "Thank you. You- You're very lucky, you know, Okubo. Tomoh is a golden girl, despite her temper and refusal to visit her parents more often..."

“I might show up more now that I'm off, if you guys are that needy,” She shakes her head.

"I also consider myself lucky, sir," he smiles, shily, but he couldn't help it. "There are times when even I can't believe that going to that bakery would give me the opportunity to meet so many interesting people… her mainly."

From the man's surprised expression, he didn't seem to be expecting that kind of answer. Okubo feels his stomach sink a little. Shit, shit, had he said too much? Him and that big mouth of his...!"

"Ooh… so you really liked Tomori's workplace? Tatsu, you had told me something else...," Mr. Uta looks over his shoulder at his son, as Tatshiko raises his hands in defense.

"I'd understood that he went to the bakery more because of her! But apparently he likes the food too..."

"Of course he likes it, I'd be offended if he didn't! Tatsu, you big mouth...," Tomori snorts, annoyed, and her brother shrugs.

"Okay, okay, I assumed things then. That's one point in his favor, I think..."

“Yessss, one point for me!," his ego has marked said point on a mental blackboard.

Okubo asks if he can sit down, and as soon as they gave permission, he did so. "But hey, I discovered the bakery through a friend, who praised the food a lot. I went there, curious, with some friends of mine, and then she happened to recognize me and we talked. I went for the food, but I admit I stayed for her too… and the sugar cookies, they're important."

“Oh, her cookies… they are out of this world,” Mr. Uta nods. "Me and her mother said that she can open her own business if she wants, specializing in these cookies. It'd be a success."

"Ahaha, I'm happy as a cook at Kanny's bakery, dad," Tomori scratches the back of her neck. "At the moment I don't have any plans for a business of my own…"

"I would support it, for sure," Okubo offers. "But of course, if you wanted to. But I think Miss Kanami likes you there too. I've never seen the kitchen but I can tell you guys have a great rapport," He looks at the table. "Oh yes, can I eat? I brought meat for the barbecue, but I think Mrs. Uta got hold of it and said she was going to use it for the Hot Pot…"

"Oh yes, make yourself comfortable! And oh, that stubborn woman...," Mr. Uta throws an impatient look at the sliding doors that lead to the kitchen. "She wants to control my eating habits even on my birthday..."

"She's just worried about your blood pressure, Dad," Tomori shakes her head. "But I'll tell her that you prefer more barbecue, no problem. I'm going to help Mom and Saeko in the kitchen. Dad and Tatsu will keep you company, Naoh," She smiles encouragingly at him. "I'll be right back, okay?"

"Sure, go ahead" he nods at her, smiling a little as she leaves. He looks at the remaining two. "So, Mr. Uta. I feel honored that you let me come to meet you on your birthday… that means a lot to me."

"Haha, I'm the one who should be honored. When Tomori told us about you...," Mr. Uta goes on saying, letting the phrase hang in the air as he searches for suitable words. Tatsuhiko ends up completing the sentence for him.

"Mom and him decided to extend the invitation to you because they'd never miss a chance to have a fighter of your caliber visiting."

"Tatsu!," Mr. Uta exclaims, turning red. "No- It wasn't for that! I mean… not just for that," He coughs, and Tatsuhiko laughs again. "Of course we're happy with the idea of ​​having an MMA champion under our roof, but… but we wanted to meet Tomoh's boyfriend also. After so many years alone, for her to decide to make a commitment like that, it's... it's because she's found someone worthwhile, isn't it?"

“Someone worthwhile,” Okubo felt his cheeks reddening. “So I'm worthwhile for Tomoh? Nice!”

"I hope to remain worthwhile, sir. She sure is worth it to me,” He looks down, eyeing the food with interest and putting some meats to roast with the tongs.

"I'm happy to hear that, because I think the feeling is mutual. She... she was always a fan of yours, you know?," Now it's Mr. Uta who was trying to contain a laugh. "Ever since she was younger. She had a couple of huge posters of you on her bedroom wall... I think she took them with her when she moved out, I never found them again..."

"I think she did. There were some in her living room when I visited her home," “and in the whole room, when I accidentally went in." "There's a temple for fighters just like the one I'm seeing here, only with a lot less frames. I even liked the aesthetics, you have good taste. I love these vintage stuff!"

"Oh, really? In- In that case I can show you around the living room if you want! Maybe put on some music too," He gets up from the cushion again, excited. "Fujiko!"

"What?," Mrs. Uta screams from the kitchen.

"Where is the karaoke machine that Tatsu and Saeh gave us for our anniversary last year?"

"Oh, it's there in our room..."

"In our room? The karaoke machine needs to be kept the living room, woman!"

"And how will we do that if it's one of those modern ones that don't work in that old wreck in the living room, you big oaf? It only works on the flat screen TV!"

"Ugh, guys, don't start bickering when Naoh is here...!," Okubo hears Tomori moan, mortified. Mr. Uta snorted.

"Okay… let's just look at the posters, records and the Album for now."

Tatsuhiko's eyes widened suddenly.

"Will you show him the Album, Dad? Seriously?"

"Of course, Tatsu, there's no better opportunity!"

"But Dad... it's the Album. The Album!," Tatsuhiko gestures with wide eyes. "This is an honor earned by merit!"

"May I know what is this Album you're talking about?," Okubo looks from side to side, trying to situate himself in the conversation. "I don't get it… but if it's important, you don't need to, sir, even more so if it's a collectible. I'm kinda protective of my collection of Ultraman figures too. They even have a display case…"

"Wow, you like Ultraman?," Tatsuhiko suddenly widens his eyes. "I didn't know that! What's your favorite version? The original, Ultraseven, Ace, Taro..."

"Oh, another Ultraman fan, huh?," Mr. Uta chuckles. "I think you gained a point with Tatsu after that too. And yes, it's a pretty important item, but it's something I figured you'd want to see since Tomori told us about you two... but one thing at a time! We'll show him the posters, son, and then I'll tell you how many of these fighters Fujiko and I know personally!"

"I'm a big fan of all of them, I have the complete collection," when the old man talks about the fighters, Okubo smiles and adjusts himself in his cushion. "Okay, now I want to see it all! There are several that I would've liked to meet, but unfortunately they aren't from my time and have been retired for a while."

Mr. Uta's expression was that of someone who had just discovered that he had won the jackpot in the lottery.

"Will I be able to be a guide for a new generation fighter then? Honey, did you hear that?!"

"I did! Seize the opportunity, love, don't let it pass!"

And Mr. Uta certainly didn't. He spent the next few minutes pointing to each of the posters on the walls, each having a different story. Okubo found himself envying Tomori's father, because apparently he and his wife had known several of those legends personally. And getting into trouble too in an attempt to get close to some of them.

"... I'm not very proud of that nowadays, but at the time it was a feat for us to have managed to cross the ropes, bypass the security guards and get to Ahmad Mali to get his autograph. He was pretty friendly with the crazy couple, hahaha!," He laughed while pointing to the poster of the aforementioned fighter. "One of the security guards accidentally tore a piece of Fujiko's blouse when he was dragging us away, and she pasted the piece of fabric on the Album, right next to the autograph."

"Damn," Okubo laughs. "I tried to approach an actor from one of my favorite comedy shows, but security stopped me. They were all over me, but after I explained everything they apologized. But apparently I'm big and scary enough to be mistaken for a threat, haha."

"They didn't recognize you? Damn, who doesn't recognize Okubo Naoya these days?," Tatsuhiko asks, a bit indignant.

"It was probably before he became famous, Tatsu. And oh, was this actor from Yoshimoto Comedy Theater¹ by any chance?"

"Ahaha, yes he was!"

"I knew it, they are very successful in the Kansai region. Fujiko has several VHS tapes from the older seasons on that shelf over there," He points to one of the shelves in the rack.

"What?!," Okubo turns around, widening his eyes. "Are you kidding me? I can't believe that you like everything I like!," He points to the rack. "Can I see it?!"

"Ahaha, it's more my wife, actually, she's from Osaka like you. But of course, we can put an episode on after we've had something to eat!," Mr. Uta nods, equally excited. "And what about music? I don't know if you like Enka, but I have several vinyls, three of which are limited edition..."

"Oh, that's right! Tomoh said that you like Enka!," he smiles excitedly too, then looks at the old man and points questioningly. "Keiko Fuji?"

"And Sakamoto Kyu, Miyako Harumi, Itsuki Hiroshi…," He goes on describing while pointing to the vinyl shelf as well. "You can say bad things about me, but never about my taste in music, hehe! I can put one now on the record player, then you can see how it works!"

He doesn't wait for Okubo to respond, getting up and running to choose a vinyl. Soon, the record is playing on the turntable, the needle running along its lines and playing its sound, filling the room with pleasant music. Mr. Uta smiles, closing her eyes and turning his head to the side.

"Nothing like music like that to leave in the background while reading a book or the newspaper, right?"

"Yeah. It's what I like to sing in a Karaoke most," Okubo nods, enjoying the music, picking up meat pieces and serving himself with the rice. "And this meat is great. And the mushrooms too."

"You should thank my wife for that. Tomori had to have inherited her cooking skills from somewhere, right? Ahahaha!"

"Speaking of which, those three should already be here, eating with us," Tatsuhiko comments. "I bet the two thousand yen I still have in my wallet that mom is exaggerating in the presentation to impress the guest…"

"I really don't expect that. I'm not here as a famous fighter, just as your daughter's boyfriend. It's different," ​He sighs. "Tomori, what are you guys doing there?"

"Oh, just finishing up with some preparations!," The sliding door opens enough for Tomori's head to appear through it; she had tied her hair in a ponytail. "We’re almost there, keep talking in the meantime. Why don't you talk about one of your matches, Naoh?"

"Hey, that's a good idea!," Tatsuhiko exclaims excitedly. "We've seen several of your matches on tv, but hearing about these experiences from your mouth would be something else!"

"Aaah, no!," It's the voice of Mrs. Uta, exclaiming from the kitchen. "I don't want you having this conversation without us there to hear every detail, you can wait!"

"Damn, mom, I got so pumped up…," Tatsuhiko whines.

"Uh, well, I can do that…," He stops for a second. "Which one do you want me to tell? I have some but I don't know which one you'd like to hear."

"I would like to hear about the match that established you as Ultimate Fight's heavyweight champion," Mr. Uta asks, smiling, and Tatsuhiko nods excitedly.

"Yes! And maybe some demonstrations of the wrestling techniques you used?"

"Damn… that match was epic," he smiles. "But I can’t demonstrate my moves here, the room is small and I don’t have any volunteers…"

"If the problem is the furniture, we can move it aside," Mr. Uta offers, and Tatsuhiko smiles wider.

"And if the problem is also a volunteer… I'll do the part."

Okubo chokes a little on a piece of meat he had put in his mouth.

"You?!," He raises his hands. "No, man, I don't want to do this to you..."

Mr. Uta was also staring at his son, his eyes wide.

"Yes! Tatsu, this is already a bit much...," He looks to the side, embarrassed, to which Tatsuhiko shakes his head.

"Come on, I'm not asking him to knock me out or anything, just to do the demonstrations with me as a volunteer."

"Yeah, but- but even innocent demonstrations by a professional can end badly without proper preparation, son..."

"They won't, dad, relax! And anyway, wouldn't you love to see a first-hand demonstration of a professional of his level?," He arches an eyebrow at Okubo. "It would be a priceless gift for him, you know..."

"Damn, you're putting me in a tight spot, man," Okubo scratches the back of his head. "I don't want to do that, Mr. Uta…"

"And- And you don't have to!," The old man shakes his hands. "Don't say sugest silly things, Tatsu..."

"It's not silly, dad, it's a masculine way of bonding!," Tatsuhiko argues while moving the sofas and the coffee table away, leaving a slightly more open space in the middle of the room. "A special moment between in-laws, you know?"

Okubo grimaces in discomfort. Holy shit, Tomori wasn't exaggerating when she said that her brother was a clueless dumbass..."

"I'm going to end up hurting you..."

"No way, I'm a lot tougher than I look. I played baseball in high school too, you know?," He points to himself with his thumb. "I've got a little stamina built up, give me some credit."

"Tatsuhiko," Mr. Uta huffs, frowning. "If he doesn't want to do it, then he doesn't have to. Stop being inconvenient..."

"I'm inconvenient when I'm encouraging him to give a gift that his girlfriend's dad will never forget? I'm just doing you a favor," He arches an eyebrow at Okubo. "Unless he's a little rusty, thanks to all the breaks between his two matches a year."

This time, Okubo is the one who makes a face. He usually handled teasing well, but those jabs at his ego from his girlfriend's crazy brother were another matter.

"Cut that out, man…," he even deepens his voice.

"Yes, Tatsu, you can stop that," Mr. Uta orders in a severe tone. "I don't want you picking fights with your sister's boyfriend, especially on my birthday."

"I'm not picking any fights, dad, I'm offering myself to be a test dummy," He turns to Okubo, giving him a playful punch on the shoulder. "Come on, man, show me some moves!"

"Seriously, dude, give it a rest-"

"Give me an armbar without squeezing me without straining a muscle!"

"It's not that simple-"

"Are you chickening out because you're feeling rusty?"

Oooh, son of a...!

"What?," he growls, and the other shrugs with a petulant expression.

"If you don't feel confident, just say so, and I won't insist anymore. I wouldn't want you embarrassing yourself in front of the family after all-"

"Aaargh! Fine!," Okubo throws his arms up, growling in frustration, his arms itching to give that nutjob exactly what he wanted. "You okay with that, Mr. Uta?"

“Uuh… as long as it doesn't go too far…," Mr. Uta ends up giving up, sighing. "My son is an idiot, but I still don't want to see him hurt, you know."

"Hey, hey, Dad, come on! None of this is serious. And besides, he seems like a very reasonable guy outside the octagon, right, Okubo?," His knowing smile was fucking nerve-wracking…!

"Okay, but I'll just show you, without pushing, so let me know when you feel something," he gets up slowly, in no hurry.

"Alright!," Tatsuhiko goes to the middle of the living room, calling him with excited hand gestures. "Bring it on, man! I'm going to warn you that I won't be an easy opponent, my prowness coming from my years in baseball hasn't been lost even with age and-"

Okubo didn't even gave time for him to react; he tripped him and caught him with one arm in a lock around his neck, the other arm encircling Tatsuhikos's shoulder, so as not to give him a chance to escape.

"WHOOA! Aaargh, dammit...!," Tatsu screeches, almost choking on his saliva, his eyes wide. Mr. Uta lets out a sound that was half scream, half stunned laughter.

"Oh my God, hahaha...!"

"Were you saying…?," Okubo asks raising an eyebrow. He was holding back very hard not to squeeze, but he was still pissed. "You said rusty? Does that look rusty to you? Huh? Say that again, my little ear is very close now..."

"O-Okubo, don't go to far, please-"

"Dad! P-Pick up my phone over there on the rack and take a picture, quick!," Tatsuhiko asks, out of breath. "Ho- Holy shit, Okubo Naoya is giving me an armbar! I-I'll be able to show this to my first child...!"

That was when Mr. Uta broke down, laughing out loud, one hand on his stomach.

Okubo almost loses strength in his arm when he feels like laughing, but he was trained not to falter in these situations.

"I'm not going too far, I'm trying not to suffocate you. See my hand here?," He indicates. "This one is the one that controls the force, if I pull my arm the other one squeezes your neck," he squeezes just for half a second, making Tatsu squeal, and then releasing it. "And then, with my strength and your constitution, you'll lose consciousness in seconds. Do you understand me as even though you are great at speed, if I catch you, you're good as gone?"

"Y- Yes, but- uugh...," He actually sticks out his tongue for a few seconds. "But you- you took me by surprise, Dad- Dad was supposed to be the referee and to start the match himself...!"

"No one informed me of this, so don't blame me!," Mr. Uta has to sit down again, breathing hard between giggles. "Oh my goog God…! Thanks for the explanation, Okubo, and for the laughs too..."

"You should be- uuugh, don't squeeze like that- you should be rooting for your son!"

"For you? You deserved it, you idiot, hahaha! Let's go for a countdown, like in pro-wrestling!," And he slams a hand on the ground, repeatedly. "Ten! Nine! Eight..."

"Aaargh, that's uncalled for…!"

"C'mon, man, resist!," Okubo jokes, shaking him. "I want to see it now!"

"Seven! Six! Five-"

"The cake is ready!," They suddenly hear the sliding door open, and the women's voices sounding more clearly, loud and excited. "Happy birthday, Dad-"

"Oh!," Okubo releases Tatsu to start claping, and the poor man falls to the ground like a ripe fruit.

"Ouch! You could've warned me, dammit...!"

His whimpers and Okubo's clapping are accompanied by startled gasps from Tomori, Saeko, and Mrs. Uta, watching the scene before them with wide eyes:  Tatsuhiko gasping on the floor, Okubo looking a little terrified, and Mr. Uta doubled over himself, trying to breathe through the fit of laughter.

“Oooh… wow, what- what a beautiful cake!," He exclaims, trying to appear more serious and failing, even with the sight of the decorated cake that his daughter was carrying. "You- You didn't have to do all that, girls, hahaha..."

"… Can someone explain to me what is going on?," Mrs. Uta arches an eyebrow, serious, to which Tatsuhiko exclaims:

"Saeh, Mom, Tomori, you missed it! Okubo gave me an armbar!"

"WHAT?!," The three exclaim in unison, perplexed, Tomori being the loudest.

"They asked for a demo! Or rather, he asked, I said no but he still…"

"Yes, relax, it wasn’t a fight," Mr. Uta waved his hands, trying to wipe tears from her eyes. "It was the funniest interaction between in-laws I've ever seen in my life, hahaha!"

"Uh… oh my God…," Tomori sighs in a plaintive tone. "I can't believe you did that!"

"Yes!," Mrs. Uta crosses her arms disapprovingly. "The living room is no place for-"

"Why didn't you call for me? I wanted to see it! Put him in a armbar again, Naoh!"

"Tomori! Oooh, God...” Mrs. Uta sighs. "At least they didn't break anything..."

"Are you all right, Tatsu?," Saeko asks, going to help her husband. "He didn't go to hard on you, did he?"

"No... Saeko..."

"What is it, love?"

"I think I just acomplished one of my life's biggest dreams."

Mr. Uta, who was previously managing to stop laughing, now looked like he was about to sob. And then his smile dies, and he starts panting. "Oh… oh my God…"

"Is everything okay, Dad…?"

"N-No… my chest hurts... I think… I think I laughed too hard, hahaha… uuugh," He touches his own nose, and that's when they notice the trickle of blood running down there.

That makes all the members of the Uta family widen their eyes and turn pale. And soon, they were all talking at once, terrified.

“Hey, hey, w-what is this? What's wrong with him?!," Okubo asks, perplexed, but no one seems able to answer at the moment.

"Dad is sick! Ah, shit!"

"See? I told you this could happen! Naofumi, love, calm down...," Mrs. Uta runs and holds her husband's hand, trembling. "Breathe slowly, please..."

"Daddy! Oh my god, my god...!," Tomori was shaking all over, her eyes filling with tears. "What do we do?! What...!"

"Calm down, now is not the time to panic," Saeko says, also looking pale, but managing to keep her composure. "Tatsuhiko, take him outside. Mrs. Fujiko, please go to your room and get his prescriptions, the doctor will need them. Tomori, calm down, don't panic," She caresses her sister-in-law's shoulder. "We're going to take him to the hospital."

"I'll carry him!," Okubo offers. "Whose car should I take him to?"

"No!," Mr. Uta exclaims, and despite the shortness of breath and the pain, he sounded angrier than Okubo had heard so far. "I- I don't need to go to any hospital! I- I just need to lie down for a bit, that's all..."

"Dad, you're bleeding from your nose!," Tatsuhiko exclaims, indignant. "What if this is the beginning of a heart attack? We have to get you to the hospital!"

"There is no heart attack, I can feel my arm and everything! You guys are overeacting... I still want my cake..."

"Dad, for God's sake!," Tomori almost begs, now crying openly. "Enough of this stubbornness! You're going to the hospital now, there's nothing more to discuss!"

"Don't- Don't give orders to your father, young lady...!"

"Mr. Okubo," Mrs. Uta calls suddenly, looking up, serious. "Please help him. Take him to Tatsuhiko's car. No need to carry him, just guide him."

"Alright," He nods, putting the old man's right arm on his shoulder and holding him around his waist. "Come on, Mr. Uta. You can eat cake after you start feeling better. Let's go."

The old man still wanted to struggle, but he was powerless, especially against someone the size of his daughter's boyfriend, who was leading him so firmly that it was impossible for him to say no.

The cars had been parked there at the end of the narrow street, so they still had some walking to do. Okubo would have carried Mr. Uta without a problem, but he knew how proud men of that age could be. He tries to adapt to the man's half-swaying walk, his thoughts racing, almost as terrified as those of the family in the house.

Holy shit, what a hell of a first visit that had been! How unlucky did a motherfucker have to be to meet his girlfriend's father on the same day he looked like he was having the onset of a heart attack? It was just his luck, really! And worst of all, it felt like it was his fault....

"I'm sorry, sir, I- I thought it would be okay to make you laugh, I...," He tried to say, mortified. The old man shakes his head slowly.

"No- It wasn't your fault, Okubo, it wasn't you who started it... it's- it's this fragile heart of mine that can't handle anything... aargh...," He tightens the fabric of his shirt over his chest. “Damn high blood pressure…!"

"Fine, but we're still going to help you, okay?," he helps him to get into the car, the door opened by Tatsu, who appeared running down the street, to help his father. Mrs. Uta and Saeko were close behind.

"Thanks, Okubo," Tatsu nods to him when as the fighter closes the car door. "We'll take over from here. Take Tomori with you, she knows the way."

"Okay," he nods and runs to the house to get his things. Soon he sees Tomori in the doorway, hugging herself, her head down.

 "He's already in the car, Tomoh. Your brother will take him right away and…,” His voice trails off as he sees her shaking slightly, sniffling, her face wet with tears.

"My God, he's so stubborn... we're always telling him to go to his medical appointments, to not forget to take his medicine, to eat healthier, but he doesn't listen..."

"Tomori..."

“W- What if something happens to him because of that? What if he really does have a heart attack, Naoya? What should I do? What will become of mom, Tatsu, me... tonight was supposed to be perfect, but that happens right on your first visit...," She shakes her head and sobs softly. "It wasn't supposed to be like this, it wasn't ..."

And soon, her cries become muffled, almost silent, as Okubo pulls her into a tight hug, making her bury her face against his chest. She flinches, and he pats her shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Tomori... I- I didn't want it to be like this either, but it happened... a- and the truth is that I'm very relieved to be here to help, to be here by your side, reassuring you that everything will be fine...," He bends down and kisses the top of her head. "I'm here with you, Tomoh..."

She sniffles harder, and slowly hugs him back. They stay like that for nearly a full minute, Okubo feeling her shudder with every little sob. And in that moment, despite the death scare he got and the guilt, he decided it was a good thing he'd come here that night, if only for that. To be the anchor she needed...

Soon, she pulls away from him slowly, taking a deep breath and wiping her tears with the back of her hand. He strokes the side of her face.

"I'll get my things then we'll go to the hospital, okay? Let's close the house too."

"Okay… sorry…"

“No, hey, it's okay. I'd be the same way if it were my father, but he'll be fine. We'll go there, okay?," he kisses the top of her head. "I'll be right back."

And he goes to get his things. Tomori wipes away the tears as best she can and goes to clean up the house before they leave.

 

* * *

The car was speeding out of the neighborhood towards the hospital where Tomori's parents were staying. Tomori was guiding herself by the GPS, gaveing him the right direction.

"Got it," he goes around the roundabout to take the right direction. "Everything will be fine, Tomoh. Don't worry, okay?"

"I'm trying," Tomori takes a deep breath, nodding slowly. She had managed to calm down a bit after crying, but she was still shifting nervously in the passenger seat, typing on her phone; she was probably texting with one of her family members in the car down the road. "But his nose had never bled like that before. I came to think that..."

"I already had something similar, it seems to be something to do with blood pressure," He nods. "It was after a fight, so I could be wrong. But he said he was feeling his arm, so it's good news, right? We'll see when we get there..."

Okubo's cell phone rings. "Dame da neeee. Dame yo, Dame na no yoooo…," and he grunts, looking through the Bluetooth dashboard screen at who it could be.

"Himuro?," He blinks. "Huh. He never calls me, he just sends texts messages...," he mentions while pressing the car's bluetooth audio button. "Can I answer it, Tomori?"

“Sure, no problem…” She nods, still typing. She takes a deep breath. "Saeko said he's still in pain, but he's conscious. I think it's a good sign."

"I think so too," He nods and answers the call "Hey, Himuro. What's up?"

"Hey, man," Himuro's voice sounded kind of tired, like he was trying to smile, but it didn't seem to carry a good tone.

“Oh, shit... bad news? Spit it out then," Okubo sighs, already a little irritated.

"I wanted to say no, but I'd be lying...," He hears Himuro sigh too. "If you're able to talk, I'll get straight to the point. It's about Rihito."

Okubo frowns, and Tomori actually looks up from her phone a little.

"… Fuck. What has he done now?," It's what comes out of his mouth, before he even thinks. When it came to Rihito, there was no other way to react. Tomori frowns beside him, putting her phone down on the object holder for the first time since they got in the car.

"Well... ugh, he's going to be pissed at me, he said he didn't want you to know, but Kaneda and I can't take this bullshit any longer," Himuro grunts impatiently. "Do you remember the license thing? He didn't renew his employees' licenses in time for one of them to fight. He was penalized by the Kengan association and can lose the fridge."

"What?! Hell no..," Okubo scratches his head, grunting. "What now, bro? What's his penalty? Is there a solution? Is it a fine? How can I help him?"

Tomori, beside him, had widened her eyes in astonishment. Okubo sees from his peripheral vision that she was staring at him intently, inquiring with just that cutting gaze. He shrugs, gripping the steering wheel, as Himuro continues to speak.

"He lost the new site he had gotten in his last match. And yes, he'll have to pay a big-ass fine," Himuro continues, and they could hear, somewhat muffled on the other end of the line, the joint voice of several people talking excitedly, agitated. "If it was just that it'd be fine, but you know that Mr. Nogi is inflexible when it comes to the new rules. Fighting without a valid license is a serious penalty. Rihito will have to fight to maintain his position as a member of the Association, and if he loses, he won't be a businessman anymore."

"Son of a...!," He refrains himself, gripping the steering wheel even tighter. "Oh, this fucker has a thing or two coming for him. But why the hell did he hid this from me? I could help him, for fuck's sake! When is his match?"

"He didn't tell you anything because of that…," Himuro hesitates a bit before continuing. "His match was scheduled for the same day as Tomori's father's birthday party. That's why I'm calling you, man. The match starts in half an hour."

"Are you fucking kidding me?!," he exclaims.

Okubo hears Tomori gasp beside him, feels her fingers grab and squeeze his arm.

"Huh? What- What's this, Naoya?"

There's a few seconds of silence before Himuro speaks again, sounding astonished:

“What- is she there with you?! I... uh... hi, Tomori..."

"WHAT?! Holy shit…!," Okubo almost loses control of the car in fright, his eyes widening. "I'm hearing about this only now, Tomoh!," He swears to her. "I didn't know anything about that until Himuro told me! Holy shit, Rihitooooo…," Okubo holds the bridge of his nose, taking advantage of the fact that they had to stop at a red light to complain more carefully, and then goes back to the call again. "Fucking hell. Thanks for letting me know. I'm going to solve a problem here with Tomori, but I'll see what I can do. There I'll call you. I swear, when I see him again…," He doesn't answer, hanging up the call. He look at Tomori afterwards. "Holy shit, when you want to tell things in the most relaxed way, here comes the world to destroy my fucking plans…"

Tomori continued to stare at him with her mouth open, perplexed, and he couldn't tell if her paleness was due to concern for her father or the news she had just heard.

"Naoya, what- what is this about Rihito losing the fridge because of the backstage league? You...," Her expression twists in indignation. "You bet equity on these matches? What the fuck!"

"Hey, calm down, you're getting it wrong! We don't bet equity, let me say that first,” He raises a hand nervously, excusing himself. When she falls silent, looking at him with fury in her eyes, crossing her arms, he sighs and begins. "Backstage Matches are organized by an Association called Kengan, where businessmen vie for trading rights, like prime time on TV, bidding on a building, a trading point, and so on. That's when they don't get deals, so in that case they hire fighters (it's my case) to fight for those rights representing them."

Tomori stares at him with highly raised eyebrows, silent as she seems to weigh and analyze those words. Okubo couldn't return the look because of the traffic ahead, but he felt it as if it were burning him, his stomach clenching in anxiety, the blood pounding in his ears.

"... And- And Rihito is one of those fighters? Why would he risk losing his own business then?"

“Because he's the biggest idiot in the world, bigger than even me!”, he rants in his thoughts, his knuckles turning white. “Idiot, son of a bitch, idiot...! Why didn't you tell me anything, you asshole?! It's the most crucial fight of your career and I'm not even there to support you...!”

"Rihito, our dear and estimable friend, is a businessman and a fighter at the same time (yes, that's allowed), and then he screwed up and is being punished for breaking the association's rules. He hid from me that he was having this whole problem, just because…," He takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. "Because he wanted me to go to your father's birthday party. He didn't want to ruin this for me…," He sighs, tired and sad. "That's it, it's the whole truth, Tomori. I'm just a fighter, hired by Muji TV. When the CEO need me to sort out some bullshit, I go there, I beat the shit outta someone and then I get paid for it."

The silence that followed was too long for his liking. And he was grateful that he couldn't turn to face her, because he was too afraid of what he would find in her expression. Shock? Anger? Concern? Contempt? He didn't know what he would do if it was the last option...

"… Do you accept that? All of you?," She finally asks, her voice weak. "Being… used like that, by these rich people?"

"… That's the thing, I'm in it because I like it," He finally admits, sighing. "All of us, actually. We all have our jobs and normal lives, but we weren't hired without knowing the risks, or by force. Some of us were, like for example, prisoners. I got into this because I wanted to fight without Ultimate Fight's rules holding me back, with people bigger or more dangerous than me, so I could challenge myself."

"Even knowing about this whole shady business behind it?"

"Yeah."

Now that he had told her the truth, he was finding it very easy to answer her questions. What wasn't easy was dealing with the feeling that he was on a tightrope, balancing a pile of china plates, and that they were about to fall and shatter on the floor below.

"Irreparable..."

Yeah, that was the word. His only certainty at the moment was that, if something had broken between them there, with those revelations, there would be no more fixing it. And the thought made him feel a humiliating sting in his eyes.

"... And what do you intend to do now?," she finally asks, her voice hard, emotionless.

He doesn't respond right away, trying to concentrate on the road and trying not to fall apart right there. He couldn't.

“I… I'm taking you to the hospital,” he says seriously. He was grateful that his voice was steady. "But after that, I'll have to go. Rihito needs me there. He's my best friend, and he's in trouble. He got into it himself, but… he'd do the same for me, if I was in his place… just like he already did for me, for both of us. I'm sorry, Tomori."

"Don't apologize. He really needs you. All of you," She swallows, and Okubo feels his stomach drop when he hears her voice shake a little.

“But…but you need me too, don't you? With what's going on with your dad... fuck, what am I-"

"No," She interrupts him, managing to put some firmness in her tone. "My mother, brother and sister-in-law are there too. I'll already have support, shoulders where I can rest my head. My family. Rihito only has you guys. Go be with him, Naoya. Give him the support he needs..."

She sounded sincere, but the tone in which she was speaking...

“She’s… she's blowing me off. She doesn't need me. Not after what she heard.”

Fuck. How the hell could something that didn't involve a physical attack hurt so much?

"… I'm sorry, Tomori… I…," He shakes his head. "Actually… thanks," he looks straight ahead. "Is this the right hospital? Oh, I can see Tatsu's car… okay," he parks the car in front of the building, without turning off the engine. "There you go. Go inside. Good luck, tell your dad I wish him well."

"I will. Thank you," She smiles tiredly at him, taking off the seat belt, opening the car door and getting out. She hadn't even leaned over to give him a kiss… "For the ride and for telling me the truth. See ya..."

And she walks towards the building without looking back. Okubo felt his heart sink, and his whole body went cold. He sighed, putting his head on the steering wheel, very tired. He heard the sound of a horn behind him, so he was forced to take a deep breath, wipe the tear that fell down his face and step on the gas to leave the hospital behind.

He had a Kengan match to attend to.

 

* * *

"Tatsu! Saeko!”

Tatsuhiko and Saeko look up when they hear Tomori's voice, approaching quickly as she enters the hospital waiting room. Tatsuhiko raises his arm and waves.

"Here, Tomori! Dad was already called for pre-screening and mom came in as his companion. He had preferential care due to his age and type of pain...," He takes a deep breath, and Tomori nods, sitting down next to him in one of the rows of chairs, in front of the reception desk.

"Fortunately. And how was he?"

"In pain, but a little less than when we left the house," Saeko explains. "It could be a case of hypertension, but he will still be examined and medicated. We are waiting for your mother to give us more news.

"Okay. My God...," She takes a deep breath, closing her eyes and sinking into the chair, exhausted. "I hope that's all it is. I swear, he's going to start taking all os his meds even if I have to shove them down his throat.

"After that scare, I doubt he'll continue to be stubborn like that," Tatsuhiko takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes. "I'm feeling horrible… I think that joke your boyfriend and I pulled was a little too much for him."

"Yeah, maybe. But there's no way you could've guessed that would happen, Tatsu. Don't keep blaming yourself," Tomori touches his shoulder, and Saeko does the same.

"Yes, love, now it's over. And speaking of a boyfriend, where is Mr. Okubo?"

Tomori looks to the side, clenching her fists a little above her skirts, trying to keep her expression composed.

“He… he sort of had an emergency while we were on our way. He dropped me off at the hospital door, apologized and wished Dad well."

Tatsuhiko and Saeko look at each other before nodding.

"Alright then. I think I owe him an apology too, I was the one who started that nonsense...," He sighs, and Tomori smiles tiredly.

"He was laughing when we walked into the room, so I doubt he holds grudges."

"Yeah, but I still wanna try to make it up to him somehow. Is there... is there any way you can invite him to another little meeting after Dad feels better?," He asks, embarrassed. "So everyone will have the opportunity to apologize and clear their conscience..."

Tomori tries to think of an excuse to deny that request, but her head isn't clear enough for that. Everything Okubo had told her in the car kept spinning inside her head, the information taking a long time to sink in, like office documents that had been caught in a gale and were flying about, out of control.

Backstage leagues, businessman associations, fighters who were paid to risk their lives to defend the interests of rich and unscrupulous people... and not only was he part of it, he enjoyed it. He actually enjoyed it, my God...

“This is serious. This is very serious. Hell, how am I going to deal with this, I don't even know if I want to..."

She cringes at the pain in her chest that makes her want to cry. Ending a relationship because of that, let alone one as good as that one, seemed so pointless. But if it were for her own peace of mind, her own morals...

“He hid from me that he was having this whole problem, just because he wanted me to go to your father's birthday party. He didn't want to ruin this for me…”

Okubo's voice is heard, loud and clear, in the midst of that gale. She takes a deep, shaky breath. To think that Rihito had given up having his friend's support for him, maybe even for her as well... as he had given up his own pride to help the two get back together back then...

Her morals appreciated that sort of thing, didn't they?

"… Haha, okay, I … I can ask him. I won't confirm anything, but I'm already doing my part," She opens her purse, putting her hand inside. And then she widens her eyes. "Oh damn."

"What?"

"I forgot my phone in Naoya's car! Oh, for Pete's sake...," She groans, rubbing her eyes. "All this stress has made me dizzy..."

"Haha, it happens. He'll end up seeing your phone inside the car and will return it to you," Saeko smiles patiently. "But do you want to borrow mine to call him, anyway?"

"No, you don't have to..." Tomori starts to say, waving her hands... and then she stops, blinking into space. Her brother and sister-in-law stare at her, confused.

"Tomori? Are you okay?"

She doesn't respond right away. Her uncontrolled thoughts little by little began to order themselves, one by one, becoming distinguishable, easier to analyze calmly. Perhaps it was the knowledge that her father was no longer in danger that had cleared her mind.

... Or maybe it was that other Tomori inside her, the one she was so ashamed to let out, that was pointing her in the most dangerous direction to go. And the one that most attracted her.

“Actually, I think I'll borrow your phone, Saeh, please,” she says suddenly, and her sister-in-law, albeit flustered, nods.

"Alright then. Here...," She holds out her phone, and Tomori takes it with sweaty hands.

"Thanks. But I wanted to ask you too..."

"Go ahead!"

"Do you happen to have one of those phone tracking apps?"

NEXT CHAPTER

[recurring-polynya]

Do I mind if I ask how you approach writing longer fic? I've always struggled to write anything more than maybe two chapters long and I'm curious if you have a particular method to how you approach such stories.

Thank you so much for this ask! I absolutely love it when people ask me for writing advice because it makes me feel like a Smart Person Who Knows Things.

Before we start, here is one grain of salt to take all of this with: I have a naturally long-form brain. It is very hard for me to write something less than 1k. Short fiction is great, and there is nothing wrong with sticking to short things if that's what your brain likes to do.

So. You have decided to write a story. This is going to focus on "stories". Some people write fic that's more freeform or whatever, I am not going to cover that. What I mean by a story is this:

It starts

Some stuff happens

It ends

It is highly probable that your story contains a change of state, which could be that a villain is defeated, or a goal is reached, but it could also be that character falls in love with another, or someone learns to like broccoli.

I like to start out by completing the sentence, "This is a story where _______". This is basically like coming up with a summary for an ao3 post, except that it doesn't need to be catchy. Lots of different kinds of things could go in that blank! It could literally be what happens: This is a story where Ichigo goes back in time and punches young Aizen in the nose. It could be about what you want to explore: This is a story where Hitsugaya gets a better understanding of his zanpakutou. It could be about the vibe you want to achieve: This is an AU where everyone is in a punk rock band and has cool hair and outfits. The idea of this is to clearly define what you, the author, is interested in writing. Make sure it feels right! Maybe you pick the first one, but when you say it out loud, you say, "You know, I really just want Ichigo to go back in time so he can horse around with young Renji and Rukia and punching Aizen in the nose is just an excuse for that." That may sound dumb, but it's fine, actually! Most people don't read stories strictly for the plot, they read stories for the implications of those plots! Will my favorite two characters kiss? Will there be funny interactions between these two groups of characters? Will there be sick fights? Stories are excuses to have scenes. Sometimes, you will have a story where the interesting sequence of events is the draw, but the point is to know what you're about.

Once you feel happy with your "mission statement", you need to decide the bounds of your story: where it starts and where it ends. It may be easier to start with the end. In some cases, it may be obvious from your mission statement: everyone gets home, a villain is defeated, Kenpachi realizes the meaning of friendship. On the other hand, let's look at that punk rock AU. You've picked a vibe, but you don't really have a natural story arc. It has to have a destination, though, otherwise, it's not really a story, it's a recipe for 3 chapters of an abandoned fanfic. So brainstorm a little: Maybe they get a record deal? Maybe they win a Battle of the Bands? Maybe Byakuya accepts that the band is actually good and tells Rukia he is proud of her. Do not settle for a plot just because it works. Pick something that makes you excited! You're the one who is gonna have to write it!

I said that we needed to pick a beginning point, too, but I'm actually going to skip that for now. The next thing I do is think of all the Big Scenes I want to write, the ones you are hype to write, the ones that pop in your head as you think about the premise. Make a bullet list. They don't need to be in order. The descriptions don't need to be super detailed, but write down anything about it that is important to you. If there's a mood or a snippet of dialogue or a joke you want to make, go ahead and jot that down so you don't forget it later. What you're doing now is putting broad blotches of color on a canvas, filling in space and leaving the detail for later.

Once you are pretty happy with what you have down, try to arrange it in chronological order. Put your end at the end (if it wasn't one of your big scenes, add it now). The next task is figuring out how to traverse your scenes. You've already picked out where you want to spend the majority of your energy. The rest, I regret to tell you, is your slog writing. Now, it often happens that you will find joy in some of these scenes and your best writing may occur there, but that's serendipity. These are the scenes that you are gonna have to make yourself sit down and write, so you honestly want to limit them to just the ones you need.

So how do we do this? Look at the first thing on the list. Can you start there? If so, congrats, that's your beginning. If you can't, what needs to happen to get to there? Where can you start so that you can get to your first fun scene as soon as possible? There. That’s it. You’ve picked your beginning, good job! Now, go through the rest of your list, and add in things that must happen, even if you don’t particularly look forward to writing them. The characters need to travel from geographic point A to point B. Shuuhei needs to say something that Izuru hears and misinterprets. The Central 46 makes a new law. If you have a good idea of how these things happen, go ahead and write them down, but it’s okay if you don’t know yet. Fill in all the blanks so that if you think of each bullet list as a scene, you could read it as a story, start to end. Once you get writing, you might add more scenes, or move things around or whatever, but you should have a thing that functions as a story.

If you struggle with this, an alternative is a story with a very strong structure that is going to guide you though what you have to write.Here are two examples from my own stories Hold On, Hold On (which is only one chapter, but the principle is the same) is structured around the 5 stages of grief. Not Broken, Just Bent takes place over roughly a week, and I just decided what happened every day of the week. See You on the Other Side takes place in the middle of a bunch of canon events, which worked at mile markers.

Congratulations. You’ve just made a rough outline!

Special note for avoiding burnout!: I am a slogger. I will drag myself through the broken glass of an interminable plot to get to a single thirsty scene. That's why, at this stage, I try to look at the ratio of what I want to write to what I must write. It's gonna vary for everyone, but this is a hobby, and if looking at this proto-outline makes you feel deeply tired, maybe this isn't a good story to be devoting your time to! Can you carve it down? Can you chuck two scenes you really want to write and get rid of 80% of the slog? Or maybe you can't! In that case, just write that thirsty scene as a standalone drabble! Or just go work on something else! Maybe in the future, this one will come back to you and you’ll have a fresh idea or a renewed enthusiasm for it.

Another thing I sometimes like to do at this point is to write out some notes about my characters and their motivations and moods. Character A is homesick. Character B is so determined to defeat the enemy that they are having a hard time being sympathetic to Character A. Character C cares for both A and B and is trying to support them both. This is sort of background info that you want to keep in your head as you are writing. Depending on the type of story you are writing, this might actually be the main plot, or it might be happening subtly, but adding to the emotional impact of the story. It’s very easy for me to write these sorts of emotional arcs, but if you struggle with that, you may wish to go ahead and made a more detailed outline for that, too.

Now, it’s time to start writing! I am great at beginnings-- it is very often the case for me that the opening scene was one of my Big Tentpole Scenes. (Before you hate me too much, I make up for this by being double horrible at endings; just let me have this) Usually, I will start at the beginning and write linearly for as long as I can until I get stuck. Then, I will look forward on my outline and do the next chronological scene that I feel like writing. In general, if I sit down to write and there is something I have an urge to write, that trumps everything else. Inspiration is a precious commodity, and you should embrace it when it hits! You can slog any day. I will occasionally hold off writing a scene that I really want to, because I am saving it, like a prize for myself for getting that far. This is a very personal process of figuring out what motivates your brain and then giving your brain what it needs to be its most productive.

Eventually, you will run out of things you are excited to write, but the good news is, you’ve got a bunch of story now! Odds are that what’s left is going to be a lot of those connective tissue scenes, and you’re just going to have to do them, except that now, because you’re connecting two concrete points instead of two abstract points, it will be a lot easier. You can continue running jokes you’ve started. Maybe you invented a cafe in an earlier scene where your characters hang out and you can have them return there. Try to think of ways to make these scenes more fun, both for yourself to write and for your reader to read. 

Around this time, I like to start refining that rough strokes outline into what I will call an “as-built” outline. (This is an engineering term where you update your plans or models for something to reflect any changes that had to be made along the way). This is a great activity to do at times when you feel like you have writers block. I write down every scene I have written as a 2-3 word blurb, in order. I break the scenes into what I think makes logical chapters, and I will do a word count on those prospective chapters and write it down. As you do this, you will realize that maybe you can move a scene from here to there, which will make it 1000% easier to write. Things may be happening too much, or you’ve got the characters eating three times in the same chapter. If you have subplots and dangling threads, this is where you make sure they get closure. I know this sounds very headache-y, but you are so far along in the story at this point that it’s really not-- it’s a way to look at the problems you have left. Use some sort of formatting (I like to bold things I haven’t done and sometimes I put them in red) and it gives you a very visual to-do list.

You specifically mentioned multi-chapter fanfics and I admit that I don’t tend to think in chapters, I tend to think of the story as a whole and just break it up where it feels natural. The as-built outlining I described is very helpful in making sure that my chapters feel balanced. They don’t necessarily need to be the same length, but I like them to have the same amount of stuff in them. One chapter may basically contain one long scene, and other may contain many short ones. I don’t tend to, but you can certainly have a fanfic that varies between short and long chapters, that can actually be an interesting effect. But like I said, I always like to know what I am doing, and so having it mapped out, you can say “welp, this is what I’ve done, how do I feel about that?”

Polynya, you may be saying at this point, do you write the whole fanfic before you post any of it? and I regret to inform you, the answer is yes. A lot of people write as they go, and I have made one attempt at this and I didn’t like it. I don’t like locking myself in, I just need to be able write out of order and go back and change things. Here is the story of a little in love: someone gave me an AU prompt and I got mildly obsessed with it, and wrote 5 snapshots drabbles in that universe, ending with a slight cliffhanger ending. I probably should have stopped there, but I decided to keep going. I wrote out an outline of 5 acts where the first act was detailed to the degree of each chapter being specified. The chapters here were much smaller than I usually make chapters: 1-2k. I wrote act i and ii and it was actually great, and then I hit act iii which required a lot of set up for misunderstandings and a mini romance arc. I couldn’t wing it, but nor could I figure it all out with outlining. I write dialogue in almost sort of an improv “Yes, and...?” style, so until I do it, I don’t know what’s going to happen. So, what I did was treat the second half of act iii as a complete story in the process I describe above, wrote the entire rest of it, and then posted it. One might notice that the chapter lengths grew to 3-5k each. I have two more acts to go, and I haven’t decided how I am going to do them yet, but I suspect I will treat each of them as their own mini-stories.

(I will admit that in Heart is a Muscle, I tend toward chapters that are about 10k long, and this is honestly too long, someone should smack me. If you like punchy chapters, 1-2k is good. I think 3-6k is probably an ideal chapter length. Is this how long the chapters are in my latest fanfic? Absolutely not.)

Okay, so there’s one more step, which is quality control. I am habitual re-reader-- I read my fanfics-in-progress over and over and over while I am working on them. I understand that not everyone does this, but I am usually the primary audience for my own writing, and this is the actual fun part for me. Nevertheless, you should re-read your work at least once, to make sure it hangs together.

This is purely optional, but I recommend it: get a writing friend (if you don’t like re-reading your work, I recommend this even more strongly). If you can get a full-service beta reader, that’s great, but if you can’t find someone, or if receiving that level of critique stresses you out, it’s perfectly valid to just find a friend who will read your stuff and a) shower you with compliments, b) reassure you about parts you aren’t sure about (or suggest ways to help) and c) point out any huge problems you missed. When I am writing a long fanfic, it is a huge motivational factor for me to be able to send my beta chapters as I finish them. If you are already an established writer, and you have people who consistently comment on your fic, they might be overjoyed to get a sneak peak at your work.

And that’s it! That’s the way I do it, anyway! Some people are able to sit down and write a very detailed outline and the write it start-to-finish. Good for them, I say! I have tried this and it doesn’t work great for me. I will admit that some of my fics (especially my early ones) I just sat down and banged out whole-cloth like an insane person and they are generally better than the ones I actually plan out, but that’s not a reproducible process.

As one final mechanical note, I usually write in Google Docs, which I can access on multiple devices (I used to write a lot on my phone), has convenient sharing functionality, and I use the ao3 html formatting script add-in. I generally have two documents for a single story-- one is the outline, and any other notes I want to have handy. I’ll usually put a trashcan space at the bottom for scenes that got cut but I don’t want to lose. The other is the fanfic itself.

I hope this is helpful! Please feel free to follow up with other questions and good luck with your writing!

[matan4il]

hi! this ask has a couple things so apologies in advance if this gets long lol

first, i wanted to ask about the coma buck theory. i've only recently watched the show, i've been in the fandom for about a month (mostly lurking and reblogging gifs lol). since day one i've noticed that 'buck will go into coma in 6b' seems to be something a lot of people believe, so if you know, where did that theory come from? i personally couldn't think of anything in the show that seemed to point to that, and and i also didn't find any posts discussing this in any detail, it seems like a collective headcanon more than anything to me. but i'm definitely very curious, so if this is something that you can see happening, could you please share your thoughts?

also this second part of this ask is just me getting excited bc i saw you mention the 309 kitchen scene in a recent ask and i've been dying to scream about it to someone lol. because oh my god, right??? idk how intentional that was or maybe the actors just happen to have good chemistry, idk anything but i just know that i had the weirdest cognitive dissonance moment while watching that scene. like just, the way buck steps towards eddie, my entire body sort of braced in excitement for a kiss, and like, that moment lasted for only about a quarter of a second but i actually had to pause because while watching that scene i'd literally forgotten that they're not actually together, and i was just like. wait. what happened. what? and just. aaaaaaahhh it was such a great scene and they're just so great and perfect together and like if the writers weren't planning on their chemistry they've written themselves into a corner bc they're just so perfect for each other, literally the family they've chosen, and just. aaah i love them sm😅

anyway, thanks a ton for reading my rambling, i really love your blog! hope you're having a good week <3

Hi Nonnie! No worries, I'm here to always try and help! *hugs*

So for the first part, I kind of explained my experience of seeing the coma!Buck theory taking shape in the fandom here.

As for the 309 kitchen scene, I love screaming about it, so yeeeeees, I'm glad we get to together! XD I personally am convinced that the 309 sexual tension was intentional. Why? Because the scene doesn't work without it. There's a joke they wanted to play, where they build our expectations towards some sort of an explosion between these two characters, but then instead of giving us that, they provide comic relief through letting a different kind of scene play out, a light-hearted one, comical in nature, that would make us smile (Buddifer playing video games together). But this only works if they REALLY build up the tension and if we REALLY ask ourselves whether there's going to be a blow up of some kind on our screens in a second. And while the scene plays around the idea that maybe Buddie will physically fight each other, we all know they were not. Buck had just apologized to Eddie again, he just showed how much he cares, and Eddie was visibly affected and moved by this, and their whole talk vibrates with how much they care about each other, I don't think anyone really believed they were gonna start punching each other. So if for the comic bit to work, the tension has to be real, and the aggressive/violent tension isn't, what made the comedy there work? The sexual tension. They HAD to turn to the implication of sexual tension, otherwise that whole thing falls flat. So yes, this is why I'm sure they did THAT intentionally. And your reaction, which you so perfectly described? It's not just yours. I went through it as well, and I'm sure we're not the only ones, because we were supposed to embrace for impact.

And I'm with you, I very much believe 911 has written itself into a corner. No one would ever work with either Buck or Eddie as well as the other one does. Eddie was originally supposed to be Maddie's Love Interest, but the second they changed course on that, they clearly built Eddie's introduction with Oliver and Ryan's chemistry in mind. They already saw enough of it to know that making us care about Eddie through Buck's eyes would work. So I'm also convinced if they wrote themselves into a corner, it's a corner of their own making, know what I mean?

Thank you so much for the kind words, and I'm so glad to know you enjoy my blog, I hope you continue to! Have a great day, lovely! As always, here's my ask tag. xoxox