#//was rewatching and the pat amused me so much

[ysphcpb]

BetrMe Ep.16: Someone was a bit too excited 💨

[ilovejoo]

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

when you fall asleep on them; enhypen

word count: 1.5k warnings: n/a gn!reader a/n: interact with me pls it gives me life. anyway THANK U FOR READING

heeseung

he would not think too much about it; he'd continue his day just as normal, maybe being a bit more cautious as to not wake you than normal.. or so he thinks. who is he kidding, the image of you sleeping is in his head 24/7 after that.

you guys were rewatching toy story 4 for possibly the tenth time from the comfort of heeseung's bed. because of the familiar (too familiar) scenes, you couldn't help but not be as interested as you had been the 9th, 8th, 7th, and especially not the first time, and it was actually drawing you to sleep.

seeing the sight of you fighting a war to stay awake, heeseung laughed slightly. the way your head nodded and the way your eyelids seemed oh so heavy was quite amusing for your boyfriend.

"you can sleep, you know. it's okay, i'll survive without you." he pressed his hand down on your eyelids, encouraging you to give in, and so you snuggled closer and rested your head on his thigh.

though he said he'd "survive without you," he didn't know how he could live with the adorable image of you asleep on his lap.

jay

laughs a bit once he notices you've fallen asleep, but after patting your head a few times he will sleep on you too, leaning his head on yours. he will fall into the deepest sleep ever knowing you're right with him.

the car ride was doing nothing to help your insanely strong state of drowsiness. the consistent, dull sound of the cars around you, the lack of light due to the late time, and the comfort of your boyfriend right next to you was practically begging for you to fall asleep. who were you to ignore these pleads?

you leaned closer to jay, your head conveniently falling onto his shoulder. jay, however, simply thought you were leaning on him for the sake of leaning on him, and he didn't notice you were asleep until he tapped on you to show you a funny tiktok and he got none of his favorite sound of your laughter in response.

ah, you were sleeping.

the bit of drool and the way your neck looked like it was about to snap in half was an endearing type of funny, and he couldn't help but laugh. not because you looked stupid (though you kind of did,) but because he just felt so lucky to be in this presence. he put his phone away and promptly fell asleep right on top of you.

jake

stop, have you seen jungwon sleeping on his lap? you're the new wonie replacement with how often this happens, and jake is more than happy to be your personal pillow. his lap, his shoulder, his ass? whatever makes you the most comfortable is yours to nap on.

the two of you waited in his green room at a music show, you wanting to support your boyfriend, and jake just wanting to be with you. however, the performance just had to be at 4 in the morning: enhypen's schedules were no joke, and while the members were used to it, you were not.

knowing this, jake encouraged you to get your sleep. "i'll wake you up when it's time for us to go, okay? just sleep while you can." you nodded, unable to fight back. you turned, looking for somewhere to lean your head on and support it like a pillow would, since all there was in this room were chairs, makeup, and definitely no pillows.

noticing the way you struggled to get comfortable, jake almost grabbed your head and forced in onto his shoulder. you laughed, adjusting your position accordingly, and of course, how can you not fall asleep?

every time one of his members came around, he immediately put a finger to his lips even when they weren't making any noise at all. "SHH- be quiet! don't you dare make a sound. y/n is sleeping."

sunghoon

boy is so stiff actually malfunctioning he has no clue what to do so he is sitting with the best posture in the world in order to not wake you. your weight on his shoulder overwhelms him with happiness (he would never admit it though)

when sunghoon was invited to hang out with some of the other members, he immediately asked you if you could go with him. you, of course, said yes, despite getting little to no sleep the night before.

this led to a problem: fighting to stay awake in front of all his friends. your boyfriend noticed the way you slowly took yourself out of conversation, only giving soft laughs of acknowledgement with a nod in response, and he knew that you were getting tired. he brought you closer to his side, which you took as an invitation to go to sleep on him.

feeling your breaths slow, sunghoon smiled until he processed what had just happened. you, his girlfriend, were sleeping on him, park sunghoon.

what now? was he comfortable enough? was he too cold? too hot? not knowing what to do, he awkwardly smiled, and making eye contact with his best friend, jake gave him a thumbs up in return.

sunoo

definitely admires you. not that he didn’t admire you while you were awake, but the sight of you relaxed and asleep, getting some much needed rest makes him smile.

the two of you had been chilling on his bed, scrolling on instagram, reading emails, etc, just unwinding before you called it a night. that is, until he felt a soft thud on his shoulder. he nearly gasped in shock at the sudden contact, but upon seeing you asleep, his eyes lit up in a soft, loving smile. immediately dropping his phone, he chose to admire the much brighter thing right next to him.

since the room was already in a comfortable temperature, fortunately all that was left was to absorb your beauty. your calm, stress-free features brought a smile to his face, and as creepy as it sounds, he wanted to stare at you forever. the closest he would have to that would be a photo, which he of course snapped with his phone to add it to the growing collection of pictures of you under the album labeled “y/n 🙄”.

in this album contained the photos from the past instances where it played out nearly identically to this one, but he loved it every single time.

jungwon

his first instinct is to take care of you, make sure you're comfortable, make sure you're warm, literally everything he can think of before he finally allows himself the privilege of just enjoying your adorable presence.

jungwon came into your room, your "study cave", with a glass of water and some cut up fruit just to find your head on your desk.

"y/n?" he gently shook you awake, knowing that you would have been grumpy if he didn't. "good morning? are you okay?"

"mmh. hi won. just taking a two second break." you rubbed your eyes, and immediately grabbed your textbook to start studying again.

"c'mere, you deserve more than two seconds." grabbing you off of your chair and into his arms, he led you to the floor and pet you to sleep. “you must’ve been tired,” he murmured under his breath as he moved a piece of stray hair away from what could have potentially disturbed your sleep. debating whether or not to move you to a bed, he ultimately settled on leaving you peacefully be in case he would wake you up.

silently reaching as far as he could for the blanket on his bed, he cursed at himself for not being built with super long arms. he bit his lip in concentration, looking for the balance between minimal movement and maximum length of reach. grasping the corner of his blanket with his pointer and middle finger, he smiled in celebration as he covered you up in a way only either a mother or himself would, as tenderly as possible as not to accidentally wake you.

ni-ki

this kid joins you. he’s always sleeping in his own free time, and it’s 10 times better when he’s asleep with you, so why waste a great opportunity? he'd definitely tease you 99% of the time, but he'd do that after you wake up from your well deserved rest.

“y/n-” niki called out, “where did you leav-” he clamped his mouth shut when he saw you asleep on the couch, phone still in your hand and nearly falling off.

cute.

admittedly, his first thought was to pull some sort of prank on you. drawing on your face? a classic, but he had already done that the other day. hiding under the couch to scare you? sounded like fun, but he remembered how hard you had been working over the past week, and the urge to mess with you disappeared.

instead, he opted to join you. carefully climbing in next to you, he shyly covered the two of you with a blanket, and you both woke up an hour later with a sore back. it was only inevitable for two people who shared such a small couch together.

[artdcnaldson]

hhhhiiiii cat!!! i dont wanna overwhelm you, but i just have so many fun thoughts for this au, feel free to take your time with these

we were talking about the sheer sluttiness of the moans and groans of the tennis players at wimbledon, and then i was watching djokovic playing, and oh boy is he louder than both art and pat. but it made me think another little thought....

so you've been a fan of art donaldson long before he agreed to coach you. you've been following him for years, watching him play, begging your parents to bring you to his matches when they were nearby, recording and rewatching all the matches you could. you had a pretty good collection by the time you went pro, if it wasn't a slightly strange thing to collect people might admire your devotion to it. you'd even managed to dig up some old, pixilated and shaky footage of his stanford days. those were your favorites. something about that snapback keeping his gorgeous curls contained just did something to you.

it's safe to say that he was her sexual awakening. she spent her later teen years seeking out any cute tennis players with blond curls and knee-buckling smiles. it didn't quite fulfill her, but it was enough to keep her satisfied for the time being. but on those long and lonely nights she would pull up one of his matches to keep her entertained. the day she found out he was retiring was a very sad day for her :(

but anyway, back to when she's now basically living with him. it was such a long and boring day, art was out somewhere with lily and some of her friends from school, so you had been left to your own devices. you'd done some tanning by the pool, baked a brownie for art, ordered some cute new dresses, you'd even gone so far as to clean the kitchen. you were beyond bored.

then you'd decided to make dinner for art rather than having the chef cook, you'd prepared a lasagna and popped it in the oven. as you're waiting both for the oven and for art to come home, you're lounging on the couch, scrolling mindlessly through the channels on the tv, zapping through you spot the sports channel. just as you're about to skip it to find MTV or some good reality tv, you recognize the game in front of you. it's an old match of arts, one you'd watched many times, at the australian open a few years back. it had been a favorite of yours, the way his sweat glistened and made his whole body shine, he'd had to take off his shirt during breaks and pour cold water over himself to cool down. goodness gracious, he'd looked so good that whole tournament. his grunts were more exaggerated with the heat. you'd spent your whole youth wondering and imagining whether those noises were the same he'd make in bed. you thought you'd never know and just have to imagine that they were. but now that you knew, now that you were so familiar with those same sounds every night, and every day on the practice court. oh it made it so much hotter to watch him play. its truly inevitable when your hand wedges it way into your shorts and past the line of your panties, it's basically reflex at this point.

as art is walking through the door the first thing he hears is the mix of a tennis match on the tv and the sounds of your moans. he's intrigued by what this could be he's walking in on. as he walks up behind the couch he can see himself on the tv and he can see your hand moving between your legs. he's almost tempted to just stand and observe you, let you live in your fantasy. but when you start to moan his name sweetly, he can't help but interrupt you. "ooohhh aaarrrrttttt" all drawn out and pretty as you get closer to your release, "yea, darling?". oh. you've been caught. he's thoroughly amused by how you react as if you've done something terribly wrong, like a puppy getting caught chewing shoes. you expect him to be upset and call you pathetic, but he's too caught up in how flattering this is. he just tells you to keep going as he comes around and sits next to you, "you like watching me play?", you can barely respond, so overwhelmed by his attention. "if i'd known you got off this much on watching me i would have found the old recordings for you ages ago". he peels off your shorts and panties for you, he needs to get a better look at you, takes your top off with it. he needs to see all of you, but he keeps his own clothes on. it only adds to the power he feels over you, it's intoxicating, it almost makes him dizzy to have you like this. he would feel guilty if he didn't know exactly how much you love it.

he watches you cum on your fingers as he wins the match, it's almost too perfect. but at this point you're so routined in this fantasy that you can time it perfectly. you're a blushing mess as you come down, shy and embarrassed that he'd caught you in your moment of worship. but curiosity oozes from him, he coaxes you to tell him all about your little ritual, whining in embarrassment as you admit to all your dirty fantasies about him.

if it wasn't for the timer going off the lasagna would have burnt in the oven. art can't do anything but adore you, his perfect little thing, a warm dinner and delicious dessert ready for him. you really were perfect for him.

it's so important to me that reader in this au is very wide-eyed and naive towards her relationship to art. despite that fact that she is more than willing, and it's fully consensual, he is absolutely taking advantage of a huge power imbalance. he's her idol, he's like a god to her. he's the reason she's even playing tennis professionally, if it wasn't for him she wouldn't have a career in this sport. his attention, his trust in her game and her talent, means more to her than anything else. her touching herself to his games is like a form of worship shes participated in for years. him finding this out strokes his ego like nothing else in the world, he's never felt bigger, never felt more important. all the career achievements and grand slams mean nothing compared to this. to know that your sexuality has been based in him, the only thing that can get you off is a version of him.

ARARAARARRARARARRA tihi :))) i love tennis men. i need art to have a big ego and take advantage of me tihihihi, it's so serious

-🐞

RAHHHHHHHHH <3<3<3

Something about all the tiny forms of worship you find yourself acting out while you’re with Art, the ways you willingly put yourself beneath him and show him that he’s the center of your universe.

How you let him use you whenever, however he wants. He can wake you up buried in your cunt— how your body just always seems to be wet and ready for him, perfect for him to slide into, to fuck until he’s cumming deep in that sweet, young pussy.

How you sit on his lap after you get done with the day’s practice, how you rub after sun lotion into his pink, hot skin. Like your wandering hands are canvassing every inch of his body, memorizing it. And you always end up with your hands around his dick, lotion slick and warm, pumping him slow and sweet as you whisper soft thank yous in his ear for being such a good coach.

And you’re so caught up in him, in winning. In your continued positive trajectory, that you miss the ways he’s taking advantage of that devotion. He plays up his disappointment in your losses so you work even harder to please him, so you kneel in front of him and worship him and promise that you’ll never disappoint him again. He holds his pleasure close to his chest so it feels like the sun shining on you when he says he’s proud of you, or that you’re performing well, or when he calls you his good girl.

It was never going to be fair— not when you hero worshipped him, when you formed the center of your brain around love and pleasure and pride around the idea of Art Donaldson. But what does fair matter when he’s all you want and more??

[fluideli123]

There's no sun now and There's no Cure (WIP)

Hi, I'm not going to lie; when I was younger, Heatwave and Blades were my favorites (no surprise since Raph and Mikey were my favorite ninja turtles as a kid), but now, Chase is (And so in Leo). There is something so delicious about his characterization and how he interacts with the world that makes me want to write a 300k fic on just him. Not going to lie, out of all the Rescue Bots he IS the odd one out in SO many regards it's practically like dangling a carrot in front of a fucking pig in Minecraft, I can't help but chase after it!

After rewatching the entirety of the show recently (and almost finished! Just two more seasons to go!) I wanted to mix some of my favorite episodes, characteristics, and concepts within a long Chase-centric story about him, earth, the Burns family, Frankie and Doc, and much more, like his interests!

There isn't an entire plot planned out yet, but the concepts, scenes, and moments I want to dive into have been soaking in my brain juices like a sponge.

Speaking of, have what has been written of this WIP, and know you can send in asks regarding it!! I would love to talk about it!!

Comfort, it’s a universal concept between Cybertronians and Humans that Chase has grown quite familiar with over the stellar cycles. It manifests in many complex ways. Shifting and changing as time passes, between planets and cultures, groups of individuals. A sensation that typically follows warmth, safety, familiarity, likeness, and escapism when things, actions, situations, and sounds grant an individual peace in some regard. 

Such things are fascinating to witness just as they are hard to grasp. Like how Chief Burns was relaxing into Chase’s vehicle seating. Optics softening distantly, a small tick of his mouthplate shifting upwards, amused. 

This did not follow most–if not all–of Chase’s maunderings. How odd. Perhaps the Chief was thinking of something calming. It would be best to allow him to appreciate such thoughts after an eventful afternoon.

“Should I cease speaking, Chief?” The police car slows to a stop for a red traffic light, observing Earth’s characteristics as well as any possible dangers as they wait for the single to grant them permission to continue.

Charlie Burns chuckles lightly, full of a warmth the rescue bot has never been able to replicate with his own vocals. “Don’t,” The Police Chief runs a hand over his steering wheel, the action ending with a few gentle pats that leave Chase’s axle's lowering, engine humming. “Nothing wrong with a drive back home with you filling the silence with something you like, Chase.”

The light turns green as the seat belt around Chief Burns tightens. “I..do not understand your statement, sir.”

Charlie raises a brow at the bot, his laid back tone turning firm, attentive. “Which part?”

“Merely your reassurance. You seemed to be enjoying something and I did not want to interrupt it with my musings.”

The man blinks slowly as he nods, understanding settling in his eyes, merriment lighting up his features. “Well, I appreciate the thought, partner. But you and the rain are the reason last night’s job is catching up to me.”

[uses-for-fics]

Do I make you randy?

Anders Holmvik x reader

A/n: guys it's my first time writing smut. Please go easy on me 😭 also this part of the podcast? No way did he mean it as a joke!!!

Word count: 1076

“Anders hurry up!!!” you yelled from the living room. You had finally gotten Ander's laptop connected to his living room TV. It had only taken 20 minutes but hey, were you excited for today’s movie night. It was your turn to pick the film so you decided to rewatch your favorite film of all time, ‘Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery’. You didn’t know what you liked most about the film. Austin’s goofiness, the costumes, or his overly horrible British accent that just made your stomach flip.

Your thoughts of the goofy spy got interrupted by your boyfriend walking into the living room. “You ready?” He set down the snacks he brought, onto the coffee table. “I’ve been waiting on you, ya goof.” You smiled and picked a spot on the couch. He playfully rolled his eyes and pressed play on his laptop. He took the spot next to you and covered yourselves with his blanket. “So, what film did you pick?”

Just as you were going to answer, the film's colorful title sequence started and you couldn’t help but smile sheepishly at Anders. He sighed. “No way.” You giggled. “What?”

“Babe! You choose this film every time! What’s so special about it?” Anders whined. You just smiled and patted his arm, curling into his side. “Oh come on, you know it’s just a silly goofy film I like.” Anders huffed. “Fine fine, only cause you like it, plus Mike Myers is pretty funny, but I get to choose the next two films.” You just shook your head and snuggled him tighter.

You guys got comfortable and snacked as the film played on. You couldn’t resist throwing your leg over anders leg in a way to get comfortable. Your leg twitching everytime Austin said ‘baby.’ You seriously couldn’t understand what it was about the ridiculous fictional Brit but oh did your stomach feel like it was turning into knots. You could only hope Anders didn’t notice, preferring not to look over at him when you’d twitch.

What you didn’t expect was Anders to playfully mimic Austin Powers' outlandish British accent. With a twinkle in his eye, he adopted the exaggerated tone, much to your amusement. “Do I make you Randy, baby~~?” Your face flushed. “What?” You giggled.

He continued. “Do I make you horny?” He repeated with that godawful accent. You twitched again. Anders placed his hand on your thigh that was over his leg. “What’s wrong, is my voice too distracting?” He smiled. Your face was turning redder by the second. His hand kept moving higher. “Anders.” You whispered. “It’s Anders powers to you.” He winked after using that ridiculous accent again. He got a grip on your waistband and fiddled with it. “Did you think I didn’t notice every time you’d hump my leg when he’d make a sultry comment?” Anders whispered next to your ear, dropping the accent. You sucked in your breath. He smirked and began to kiss your neck, nibbling and sucking on spots he knew you liked. You let out a soft sigh, letting his arm finally slip into your shorts. His hand slowly moves closer to your core. “Oh my.” You breathed out quietly. He massaged your clit for a bit until he stopped abruptly. You turned to look at him.

“Is everything ok?” Your eyes looked over his face and he just stared at you. Eyes scanning you. Finally, he just smiled and leaned til he was close to kissing you. “Can I taste you?” He used the stupid accent again. You couldn’t help but just shake your head a little too quickly. Anders wasted no time on laying you on your back. “Ack! Anders!” He climbed over you and started kissing your chest down to your belly. He gripped onto your shorts, slipping them off quickly with your underwear, tossing them god know where into the living room. That would be a problem for future you to deal with right now you just wanted this man to go crazy.

Anders sighed. He kissed your inner thighs. “This might be the most shaggadelic thing I’ve ever seen.” You couldn’t help but burst into laughter from the accent. “No way you just called my vagina, ‘shaggadelic’?” He blushed. “You’re laughing now but just you wait.” Anders got off the couch and onto his knees. He did work on his shirt and pulled your legs over his shoulders. He started with a slow stripe up. You let out a low moan, not expecting it to be so effective. Anders smiled at that. He did it again. You moved your hands down to his hair. He continued to just lap at your clit, putting one finger first. You gripped onto his hair. He started moving his finger in and out, going a bit faster on his tongue work. You tugged on his hair every time you felt a twitch. Anders took this as a sign to insert another digit. This time he started going faster and faster only getting encouragement every time he felt you twitch. You had started moaning loudly, not caring if Adam or Blake walked in or heard any of your lewd sounds. “Anders!” You panted. “I-I—don’t know—how much longer I can hold on.” You huffed in between words. Your legs have started to twitch. Anders placed his hand on your lower belly, this made you feel a whole new kind of pressure, pushing you over the edge. Your moans sounded almost pornographic as you came undone. Your hands let go of Ander's hair. He tried lapping up most of your juice, coming up to look at your panting figure after he felt everything come out. He smiled at you half lid, his mouth and chin covered in slick. “You feeling shaggadelic now?”

You huffed, still trying to regain your breathe. “I can’t with you sometimes.” Anders climbed onto the couch with you. “We have to definitely watch this movie more often.” You threw your head back and closed you eyes. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle it.” You giggled. Anders just sighed and laid his head on your heaving chest.

Now, whenever Ders slips into that ridiculous accent, it serves as a potent aphrodisiac, instantly sparking desire in you. What started as a lighthearted joke during a movie night has evolved into a tantalizing game of seduction, adding a playful twist to your guy's intimate moments and keeping the flames of passion burning bright.

[doevademe]

I got a prompt for you, one day during breakfast, Emmy can't help but ask her papa if he's in the Mafia? (Which makes Percy laugh and choke on his cereals). Why such a question you may ask? Well she's still a kid and had (secretly) watched some mob movies and since her papa's italian, goes on long dangerous missions, sometimes comes back a little worn out, knows very well that he can be serious and scary, sees all the expencive gifts he gives Percy ( yes, Percy the mob husband 😂) and well their overall lifestyle is pretty cushy, without knowing the full details of her papa's job, that's the thing her kid brain comes up with. I got the idea after rewatching that episode 's of the sopranos where the mob chief's daughter asks her dad if he's in the mafia. I thought it was hilarious 🤷‍♂️

You could hear a pin drop.

Not even Asher, toddler that he was, dared to make a sound.

The table was completely quiet as Emilia, just 5 years old, looked at her papa, waiting for his response.

The silence was broken by the girl's dad, Percy Jackson, laughing uncontrollably as he dropped the spoon, splattering his shirt with baby food.

Nico di Angelo, seemingly back from whatever haunted mindscape his daughter's question brought, glared briefly at his husband before turning back to his oldest.

"Emmy, where did you hear that word?" He asked as gently as he could.

Emilia frowned. She hated when her parents dodged her questions.

"Papa's from Italy," she said, trying to sound smart and mature. "I looked for movies from there."

"Set in there, Emmy," Percy corrected her. Struggling to breathe between laughs. "Most of those movies are American."

"Principessa," Nico said, bringing her attention back to him. "You know not every Italian belongs to the Mafia, right?"

"But it makes sense for you!" She insisted. "You sometimes leave, and, and, I don't see you for days! You come back beat up!"

Percy had tears coming out of his eyes as laughter bubbled up again.

"Sweetie, you know I monster hunt," he reminded her. It was awkward to actually explain he was sort of a cross between bounty hunter and gofer for gods, so 'Monster Hunter' had to suffice until his daughter was older.

"Because you work for the monster mafia!" There was no doubt in his daughter voice as she said it. "Dad says money doesn't come out of nowhere. The monsters pay you to take out other monsters!"

Nico winced. Emilia was not exactly wrong, but... that line of thinking would not amuse the gods as much as his husband, who was now being patted by a worried Asher, who was babbling at him.

"Yes, Emmy, I get paid to take out monsters, but the ones paying me are... people like your grandfather."

"Family business," she said in an Italian accent so bad Nico knew she was quoting one of those movies. "And you use the money to buy pretty things for dad!"

Percy's laughter died instantly as he looked at himself, probably realizing he was wearing the blue designer sweater Nico had bought him for Christmas last year.

"Emmy, is that what you thing of your dad?" He asked, pouting. "I work too, you know? I'm not a trophy husband."

"Erika worked too," she told him. "But it was Marco that bought her all the pretty and shiny stuff."

And maybe Nico and Percy had been part of this demigod world for far too long, because both turned to look at each other, doubting.

What they did when they were kids, what Nico did for a living... was pretty similar to what mafia movies were about. Rivalries within the family, violence and romance and drama... It was eerily similar.

To the movies, that is.

"Emmy, the Mafia are... bad guys. They hurt people. Do you think I'd do that?"

Emilia's eyes widened and she shook her head.

"Never! But... Marco is a good guy!" she said innocently. "He loves Erika a lot!"

"It's a movie, darling," Nico said. "In real life, those people don't care who they hurt as long as they get money."

"I... I didn't know that..."

"It's okay, but you might have hurt your papa by asking that," Percy said. "If you want to know more abiout Italy, just ask him next time."

"I'm sorry papa," she said, trying hard not to cry.

"As your dad said, it's okay," Nico said. "We'll go to Italy soon, okay, and you can learn and ask all you want."

His daughter sniffled and hugged him.

"O-okay."

"Now, let's get back to dinner, I think the chicken is getting cold." Asher bablled again. "And your brother was really liking his food too."

He looked at Percy expectantly, who obediently took the baby food and took a new spoonful. He would get back at him eventually for laughing at him.

His family was known for holding grudges, after all.

[villanevehaus]

Ch XII

Amused but not surprised to find that Eve’s love language is violence. So much kicking.

Enjoyed the “Russian smile” call out. I like thinking that it’s Eve’s way of seeing Oksana, even if she doesn’t realize that’s what she’s seeing.

I’m fascinated with how maladjusted Eve is and am enjoying that we continue to get little morsels about her childhood. Everyone experiences trauma differently, but contrasting her and Villanelle’s memories… it’s wild seeing where they’ve ended up.

Makes me happy to read about the pair of them flirting and playing together. Are they both chock full of cruelty and homicide? Sure. But it’s super cute.

Awkward acknowledgment and gratitude for the body contact/compression. Hopeful for an upcoming perspective swap where we can read how it made Eve feel, if Eve even knows.

Is it weird how much I like their interpersonal confrontations? I feel like fights with Niko centered on Niko’s needs and feelings, but when Eve gets testy with Villanelle, Villanelle pushes back differently. Villanelle centers the dialogue in a way that forces Eve to acknowledge her own feelings—and it makes Eve recognize how she’s treating Villanelle without making her more defensive. Cathartic as fuck.

Another one of Villanelle’s cheeky wordplays. “…fucked the life out of someone… .” Hooo boy, did she ever. Love, love, love it.

Oksana’s breakdown about family. :((( How are these moments so much harder to read than descriptions of fingers digging into intercostal muscle tissue? You know the scene in season 1 where Eve says Villanelle has earned the right to kill whoever? That’s how I feel about Oksana whenever I reread Oksana or Uncle or little moments like this family scene. You go ahead and murder whoever you want, sweet girl. *gentle pat on the head*

I’ll be honest, I have never liked Hélène’s character. Every moment she’s in the show, my brain screams SKIP. But I trust you and look forward to how you’ll leverage her character for something interesting and intrinsic to the plot.

As ever, thank you for a lovely chapter after the last few weeks you’ve had. I have this saying, “One too many rides at the fair”—whether it’s good or bad things, sometimes we experience one too many things and it ends up overwhelming. It sounds like you had a lot of rides at the fair. I’ve had a lot of rides at the fair lately, too, and it was such a kindness to still have a new chapter of TME to read. Really, thank you, haus.

tme anon

Postscript - let me know what you think of The Cell, if you get around to watching it. I triggered my own worms and have rewatched it twice myself since mentioning it.

TME: i am so glad you like their conflicts bc thats exactly what vil (and i) are trying to do! eve may not know how shes feeling but she sure is feeling it.

THE CELL: here are the notes i took while watching it in the dark on my Big Screen:

- JENNIFER LOPEZ

- VINCE VAUGHN!??!?!?

- VINCENT D'NOFRIO?!?!?

- music by howard shore hello???

- what da hell

- "directed by tarsem singh" yea that tracks

- please tell me that [carl] isnt vince vaughn w hair

- i love when movies toss u in and are like good luck!!! :) feels very "this is MY movie and I get to make the sense"

- jlo being frustrated that she cant sleep while in a room that has all the lights AND the television on. girl the call is coming from inside the house!!!

- how is he spiking himself up like that wadda hell

- oh hey its the guy from breaking bad

- oh my god its vince vaughn with hair

- "i thought you were gonna go home, get some rest, clean up" [brushing his teeth in the break room] "i did" - VERY tme eve

- im loving the camera work in this

- oh my god vincent d'onofrio is carl???

- yet again arts and crafts from found materials are demonized </3

- the cinnamontography :D

- i have decided that catherine and the other scientist lady are gal pals

- the water scene??? the baptism w the crane shots?? i go crazy i go stupid

- HORSE GLASS PANES!!!!!!!!!! giving damien hirst (neg) (fuck damien hirst)

- already fucking hard w this movie ngl

- vince vaughn is so bad at smoking cigarettes wtf why are so many of his butts half smoked

- what if we hooked carl and edward up like what would happen beyond Horrible time for edward. dyou think it'd throw adult/god carl off to have another boy in the house

- uh oh [do not remember when this was]

- i GASPED when the new collar came out

- vince vaughn has entered the chat

- as a bitch who Exclusively has lucid dreams i choose to believe i would be excellent at this

- vfx off da fucken CHAINS

- jlo dont chase the rabbit or whatever they say in pacific rim

- vulture :D

- this is one of if not the wildest movies ive ever seen

- cant believe thats vincent d'onofrio disemboweling vince vaughn in front of sexy jlo

- i want props from this

- they simply dont do costumes like this anymore

- or sets

- you guys are idiots obviously the weird shape line drawing thing goes with his back hooks come on man

- theyre girlfriends your honour

- said "whoa" out loud when adult carl's voice came outta child carl's mouth

- dude this movie fucks crazy hard tysm for showing it to me

- as someone who used to have nipple piercings i feel for carl

- me got boy, boy me got :(

- we love pieta imagery!!!

- i am forcing my gf to watch this w me tomorrow

- :(

- :(((

- SHE'S KEEPING HIS DOG i am emotional

- this movie rly said there is no escaping the inner child

i will have better, more succinct thoughts once the worms have had more time to digest and i have shared them w my gf but oh my god i loved it!!! so stylish, so unique, so?????!?!?! SO!!!!!!!! one of the movies of all time truly tysm for reccomending it to me

[xninetiestrendx]

hi mikayla! just dropping by to say i love you and i missed you and i hope your dawson's creek rewatch is going well! and to say that i haven't been able to stop thinking of ian and mickey comparing hand sizes... how could you do this to me?!

also! are you still taking prompts?? if you are, could i request 15? 🥺💙

Julissa I love you ✋🏻—————————————-✋🏻 that much!! It’s going so well, I’m in the middle of season 4 so cute and great things are happening 💖 it’s my mission to make everyone as soft and mushy as me 😊

15- loosely holding onto each other’s hands, laying in one’s lap

~

“I’m not moving the rest of the day.”

Mickey's sentence ends with a punched out groan when Ian dropped his entire body onto him, muffled from where his face was buried in the couch cushions.

“What about now?” Ians breath tickled the back of his neck, “If you’re going to be on me like that might as well put it to good use.” Ian chuckled lowly, nipping at his ear lobe when Mickey wiggled his trapped body.

As the both of them sat up Ian pulled Mickey's feet into his lap and began to untie his boots.

“Why do people have to be such fucking assholes.” Mickey rested his head against the back of the couch, pinching in between his eyes as he let out a deep exhale.

Ian twisting his lips sympathetically while he rubbed slow circles into the ball of Mickey’s foot.

The long, hard work week had ended on an even harder and longer day that had Mickey just on the brink of his breaking point. Too many newer clients who thought they could twist the rules of his and Ian’s business to fit their own agenda and throw fits when they didn’t get their way.

“They’re idiots.” Ian responded nonchalantly. “It’s the weekend now. A long weekend”, they had decided to not work on Memorial Day, “we can sleep in, hang out by the pool, fuck as much as you want for 3 days.”

Mickey hummed contentedly, his hand dropped from his face but his eyes still closed. “Now you’re talkin’”

Ian patted the top of Mickey's thigh, an indication to move his legs.

“Pick out a movie; I’ll go heat up leftovers.” He leaned over to peck Mickey’s lips softly.

Grinning when Mickey patted him on the cheek when he lingered a moment too long looking into Mickey’s eyes. Making that all too familiar blush to creep up on his face. It was one of his favorite things that he could still pull that reaction out of his husband.

“Alright lover boy, go fix my dinner.”

As he pushed himself off the couch he looked over his shoulder to give Mickey another smile. Throwing his head back in laughter as Mickey flipped him off, but he could still make out the curled up lips from behind the hand.

Their dinner was still in the oven for a little bit longer as Ian sat back down to Mickey with a sigh, handing over one of the bottles of beer he brought with him.

“Find something good?”

“Who knows. I just found something that looks like it has a lot of explosions. Thought I would give your ass a break from Seagal.”

“You say the sweetest things to me.”

Mickey rolled his eyes as he took a sip with a smile.

Ian grinned back at him and focused his attention to the screen; shifting in his seat he set his hand, palm up, on Mickey's thigh.

“Can I help you?” Mickey asked, just glancing down at the hand, fingers twitching in the empty air.

“Hold my hand bitch.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you to.”

Mickey huffed heatlessly, amusement dancing in the air around them. He wiped the condensation from his bottles off before placing his fingers in the space between Ian’s.

Not really gripping onto each other’s hands, just having them there, the cool embrace from the drink fading into warmth was enough.

“Soft bitch.”

“You love me.”

[feelingofcontent]

DNP Rewatch: Halloween Baking - SPOOKY CUPCAKES

Date video was published: 10/26/2014 (X)

DNP Main Channel Rewatch: 247

Baking video! They didn’t do a Halloween baking video in 2013, so this is only the second one after Halloween Baking: Brownie Graveyard!

0:06 - “a pentagram on your face with a sharpie” ...okay. They've upped the background decoration a lot since the first one.

0:10 - Phil can’t help but laugh at Dan’s evil cackle. “Glamorous assistant” and the usual slide again.

0:18 - apparently need to do a full-body look to admire Phil’s new t-shirt there. 👀

0:30 - awww, Dan is so pleased. Also, very purposeful and explicit call-out of clothes sharing. (for the first time, maybe?)

0:37 - what happened during this jump cut? Dan looks so fond. I love that Dan is the one that decorated for it, although Phil posted a photo of the decor.

0:54 - that really is a giant pumpkin. I love Phil watching himself on the screen as he carries it in, lol. And nice spooky background music!

1:05 - continuity error! This was from before Phil brought the giant pumpkin in.

1:14 - Phil is so confident with his “thing of 2014″ lol. Dan is skeptical. They do love red velvet cake though. (Also, Dan could not be any more fond during baking videos, I swear.)

1:34 - I love this insert so much. “Captain hindsight” is hilarious; wtf is on Phil’s messy face; the amused smile; the giggling; upside-down Dan; etc. 😂

2:03 - not then many actual times (on video at least)

2:11 - sure, Dan. Phil does look pleased with himself though.

2:20 - the ingredients presentation is always...something, hahaha.

3:12 - I really don’t think buying pre-made icing qualifies as a “debacle” lol.

3:30 - I’m with Phil. This looks like broken dishes waiting to happen. 😨

3:45 - Dan’s blink and expression after “made out of silicone...” Somehow I don’t think his mind was on boob or butt implants... 😳

3:54 - and there we have the first of never-ending baking video whisk references after that video on Tyler’s channel

4:16 - lol at Dan reading the temperature off of the screen. Dan does not look amused by Phil’s accent but I am.

4:40 - this seems dangerous. They really didn’t have a lot of good surfaces in that kitchen to use when filming.

4:43 - dancing mirroring and the hand-off to Phil

4:53 - well that was a creepy light flicker

5:00 - that sieve is way too big for that bowl, no wonder it’s a mess

5:15 - what the fuck is happening here with the audio with Dan saying it but Phil mouthing the same thing? So confused.

5:38 - so many recipes that ask for an electric mixer and yet they don’t get one for years

5:52 - baking song! 😊

6:23 - the color looks so good at this point

6:25 - Phil does not like the “chicken fetus” remark

6:59 - probably a good idea to let Dan pour the batter in

7:20 - oh no the jumper!

7:38 - the fact that they just left the empty cupcake wrapper in there. why.

8:00 - this might be more creepy than the usual paper masks. Phil goes to let go as Dan grabs it but then...doesn’t

8:06 - that is valid, Dan. Having to turn on the song that’s stuck in your head. Dan’s dancing is...intense if nothing else.

8:40 - I hate silicone baking trays for this exact wobbly reason.

8:45 - Phil is so disappointed with the color

9:00 - comforting shoulder pats. Also their cupcakes sunk in the centers so much.

9:08 - Phil is very excited about the decorating choices. Of course he’s opened something!

9:50 - you can tell when they’re impressed with a pun one of them came up with on the spot, lol

10:18 - not the fact Dan was expecting but he is amused anyway

10:27 - what will become a common theme for Dan decorating Halloween things

10:52 - their decorating may not be great but they do go all-in with it

11:24 - their lights are doing weird shit during this 😨

11:33 - Phil spots the loose candy and completely ignores everything else to eat it, lol

11:56 - I love the showing-off of the final product as if its Bake-Off

12:10 - now Dan has frosting on his face around his eye too somehow 😂

12:29 - lmao at Phil telling him “no” while Phil’s face is also covered in frosting

12:44 - I am disturbed by Dan’s eating of this cupcake during the endscreen

12:45 - “wait, promote me” as if Phil wouldn’t, hahaha

13:00 - even they can’t believe the last one was two years ago!

Any baking video is great. There are too many fond looks from Dan in this one to count. I love that even when their recipes don’t turn out well/as planned, they still seem to have a great time filming the baking videos.

[tobiosmilktea]

nom de plume — bokuto koutarou

1.6k words | genre/s: barista!au, fluff | warning/s: — | pairing: bokuto x gn!reader

↪︎ in which bokuto gives you a fake name every time he comes to the cafe you work at. you’ve been dying to know the handsome stranger’s real name, but here you are scribbling “captain america” onto his stupid caramel macchiato

a/n: here’s something short and sweet to quench my need to write a fic after writing boring essays all week for school. not the most original content either but i needed something simple :p

there were four types of regulars you would see walk through those doors of the cafe you worked at. either to spend as little as five minutes to the entire day inside the shop just to breathe in the serenity of light jazz music humming in the background. you’ve been working at this establishment long enough to relish how different every single person’s life was as they stood in front of you and ordered their special pick-me-up for the day.

you could easily tell what a person was like based on what they order—like that middle-aged office worker with a receding hairline that always entered the cafe in the midst of an angry phone call with a client, disrupting in the calm mornings with bickering. he usually orders an iced americano, bitter and dark enough to match the dark circles under his eyes and wrinkles adorning his forehead. not entirely your favorite, but he tipped well.

then there was the occasional university student, overworked trying to finish three different essays while cramming for an exam. they usually come in small study groups that end up messing around half of the time or they trickle in as individuals, eyes all red and glued to their laptop screens as they try to chug the remaining contents of their cappuccinos with three shots of espresso.

then there were the soccer moms with their obnoxiously specific drinks, ranging from the different flavors of frappuccinos with extra, extra caramel drizzle.

and then there were guys like him—the one with alabaster hair and darkened roots who just walked inside the cafe—your favorite. the door swinging opening and causing the bell right above the threshold to ding. the tall, hot, and beefy regular with a smile so intoxicating that he catches you off guard each time he walks in exactly at two-thirty in the afternoon.

you didn’t know his name, but you recognized his face, all chiseled and annoyingly handsome. this time he was accompanied by his friend again, akaashi with dark frames resting on the bridge of his nose.

unlike his companion, you actually knew his name as he would actually give it to you, unlike the latter who preferred giving out a new nickname each time he comes around to visit. hell, you knew a lot more about akaashi despite seeing him far less often.

to say you were a bit peeved of this fact was beyond question.

the only thing you truly knew about the man you were inexplicably interested in was that he always ordered an iced caramel macchiato with almond milk. he was very particular about the non-dairy part of that order.

“what can i get you two?” you ask the two towering figures before you. though, it wasn’t much of a question when you already knew what they would order.

“a flat white for me,” says akaashi.

the usual, you think. he says he likes the foam art designs you make.

“and an iced caramel macchiato for me,” says the other, giving you that infamous toothy grin.

god, he was so cute. if only i knew your name, stranger.

you input their orders into your screen quickly, the total popping up on the smaller screen in front of akaashi and his friend as he takes out his card. he inserts the chip in for a few seconds, waiting for the beep to emit from the machine before taking it out in a swift flick.

once the payment goes through, your fingers pull the black sharpie clipped onto your apron off as you grab a cup.

akaashi didn’t bother mentioning his name as you were already scribbling it down in cursive—swift, yet satisfyingly neat. on the other hand, you waited for the white-haired boy to mention what new moniker that piqued his interest today. your eyes met his with patient intent.

“captain america,” he mutters with the corners of his lips tugging up into an amused smile. as if he was proud of himself for saying such, you couldn’t help melt into his contagious grin. like a ray of sunshine that would immediately melt away your troubles, you swore your heart skipped a beat.

the brunet flicks his eyes back and forth from you and his friend, temporary intrigue setting in as he holds back a smirk. “sorry about him,” akaashi pats his friend’s shoulder, “we’ve been rewatching the entirety of the mcu and just finished captain america before coming here.”

“oh, no worries, i’m used to it.” you wave it off, “it isn’t the first time he used marvel superheroes as nicknames. just two days ago he used vision after i reminded him that he had already used thor twice in the past week.”

“i’m surprised you remembered them in the first place,” akaashi’s friend confesses.

“how could i forget? i always look forward to whatever name you give me next.”

you thought you saw a hint of red blush dusting his cheeks when you flick a look over to him, but you weren’t too sure.

perhaps it was just your imagination.

noticing that you were only holding them up by making useless conversation, you clear your throat, muttering almost incoherently, “i’ll have your drinks ready in a few minutes.”

you dipped back towards the coffee machine before they could even thank you. their cups were gripped tightly in your hands as you placed them down next to the machine. the ground up coffee beans cascaded down the dispenser and into the portafilter. carefully, you compressed it tightly into the container before brewing the espresso into a small shot glass.

“is that the guy you were talking about?” your coworker, mitsuko, pops up from behind you and asks. you jolt a bit, almost spilling the piping hot, steamed milk in your hands when you give her a look, “you weren’t wrong when you said he was a complete hunk!”

playfully rolling your eyes, you continue making their coffees, careful not to spill anything that could possibly garner more attention towards you as you could see his towering figure over the barrier.

mitsuko’s eyes cast down towards one of the cups, grabbing at one of them to read the name. “captain america, huh?” she reads before glancing at him, “he fits the name well, at least. you think he’s an athlete?”

you shrug, “not sure, but i heard he’s a big marvel fan. he used quicksilver, vision, and thor in the past week.”

“aren’t you ever curious about his real name?” mitsuko asks as you smile contently at the foam art before snapping the cover atop akaashi’s flat white.

“of course i am,” you say, setting the ready-made drink to the side to start the other. “i suppose the guy likes his privacy. who knows, maybe he’s famous or something.”

you say that partly as a joke, but something inside of you thinks that perhaps that this was that one in a million chance. how would something of such a high caliber as him not be inherently well-known, even if it was just a little bit?

mitsuko snorts at your vehemence, slapping the meat of her thigh as if that was the funniest thing she has heard all day. “as if any famous person would ever come into a random cafe in a small city, (y/n).”

you didn’t answer for a few beats as you completed the white-haired boy’s drink, capping it properly. you weren’t ignoring your coworker’s statement, yet rather simmering in the thought of how ridiculous it actually sounded.

maybe this guy just wanted to have some cheap amusement. nothing more nothing less. it was just a name after all.

you let out a sigh, “as much as i would love to know his real name, it’s none of my business. speaking of which, has he ever given anyone else random nicknames when he comes by?”

mitsuko shrugs, “he only ever comes by when you work.”

“seriously?” you’re quite surprised.

“yup, this is the first time i’ve ever seen the infamous regular who only gives out fake names.” she mused, “maybe he does it to get your attention.”

you roll your eyes, scoffing at the thought. how ridiculous. you never wanted to wipe that smirk off of your coworker’s face as you wave her off, approaching the open end of the counter as you readied yourself to hand them their drinks.

they had been patiently waiting at the other end of the counter for a few minutes now, grateful they didn’t complain at your discrete chatter with mitsuko as some patrons would. instead, they smiled at your approaching figure with their coffees in your hands.

“here’s your flat white,” you hand the cup over to akaashi.

he flicks you a charming look of appreciation before making his way towards the cafe’s entrance. you couldn’t exactly pinpoint if he was in a hurry or not as he left you and his friend alone.

you didn’t entirely mind, though, as you shook it off.

you handed the man his drink, “and to the dude whose name that i shall never know.”

he mutters a brief thank you as he takes it from your hand, fingers brushing against each other and causing your heart to rush.

“aren’t you curious?” he asks suddenly.

your brows furrow, “about what?” you replied as you feign innocence.

“my name,” he clarifies.

“well, unless your name is actually captain america, why wouldn't i be curious?” a smirk was slowly appearing on your lips, “besides, with the dozens of people i see almost everyday, i have to say that you’ve caught my attention, stranger.”

he grins, hand fishing through his pocket, “well, since you’re dying to know,” he hands you a tiny slip of paper, making sure the tips of his fingers linger feather-like touches on the palm of your hand. “come and find out for yourself.”

he sends you a wink before walking out of the cafe, leaving you absolutely dumbfounded. your shaky fingers unfold the creases of the paper, eyes scanning the contents of his messy handwriting.

000-000-0000

the name’s bokuto — call me! :)

general taglist: @yongboxerrr @crybabbicus @rosepetalhaven @tvwhoresblog @tanakaslastbraincell @kellesvt @kitsunetea @milktyama

[luvnami]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐨𝐱𝐞𝐬 - 𝐦𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮

𝐚/𝐧 - a writing break for me from that new thing i’m losing my mind over. the title is inspired by ‘the proper care of foxes’ by wena poon (amazing book!) and is a series about the inarizaki players’ love languages. i thought that atsumu’s might be words of affirmation. hope you enjoy!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 560

“y’know those karasuno bastards, if only- if only!” atsumu ends his garbled train of thoughts with a groan of despair. he digs his fingers into his blonde hair, burying his face into the pillow.

you sit on his bed with your legs crossed and another pillow hugged to your chest. atsumu continues his now muffled complaint session. gently, you begin to rub soothing circles into his back. 

“tsumu, let’s go and grab ramen or something, yeah?” you offer.

atsumu’s head pops right up again. his eyes are rimmed red and sore, while his eyebrows hold a light furrow between them. 

“can’t, babe. i gotta rewatch the match and figure out our weak points all over again so that we know what to improve on next time. after that, i gotta talk with samu about-”

you cut him off with a sigh. this only makes atsumu’s frown deepen.

“babe?”

he suddenly worries that he’s been talking too much about volleyball. you two haven’t gone on a date since he declared that he needed to put in extra training sessions for nationals, though you had assured him it was fine with a smile. were you going to break up with him? atsumu wonders if he should have shut up and stopped whining — that was what osamu was always telling him to do, anyways. 

“c’mere, you big baby,” you pat the spot next to you. 

confused, atsumu crawls over. you reach around his shoulders and tug his head to rest against your shoulder. you thread your fingers through his hair, easing out the tangles as you begin to speak in a soothing manner.

“tsumu, you’re the best setter i know. what’s with you and all this extra work you gotta put in?”

“we lost to karasuno, don’t know if you’ve noticed yet babe. that means i ain’t the best.”

“environmental factors cater to how you perform too, y'know? besides, who’s kageyama tobio? i don’t know him. oikawa tooru? he sounds like an actor.”

atsumu falls silent and pliant to your comforting touch.

“point is, you gotta give yourself credit for working hard before and during the match itself. you gotta take a break too, tsumu, or you’re gonna burn yourself out. you can think about the match later. making mistakes just means you can be better than what you are now, tsumu! imagine that!” 

your surprised tone makes atsumu crack up, his lips curving to form an amused grin. he gently shoves at your side, embarrassed.

“what was all that for?”

“‘cause you were all pouty. i think it’s kinda cute when you’re like that, though, but i do prefer you smiley and shit.”

your arms fall away from atsumu as he looks up at you properly and kisses the side of your mouth. his forehead falls to your shoulder.

“thought you were gonna break up with me,” he mumbles.

“huh?!” 

“i said i thought you were gon’ break up with me!”

“why would i! i’d be crazy, no way i’m gonna break up with the most handsome miya twin there is out there.”

the both of you go silent, before a loud ‘i heard that!’ echoes from the kitchen. you and atsumu burst into giggles.

“thanks,” he murmurs, when the both of you calm down. he can’t bear to look you in the eye just yet.

you smile.

“you’re welcome, tsumu.”

[kurinoot]

[day 8] eight soft dolls | oikawa tooru

-> you have traveled all the way to argentina to surprise something for your fiance this valentines — much to his horror

pairing: oikawa x reader

themes: fluff with some crack (I think? LMAO), post-timeskip

word count: 1946 words

note: this fic was too fun to write LMAOOOOOO

“Okay okay, thank you so much, Hajime!”, laughing as you ended the phone call with Iwaizumi on the line before grabbing your luggage, making way for the exit.

You’re finally here.

Oh my gosh how is Tooru going to react to this?, you internally laugh to yourself as the morning sunlight of Buenos Aires shines on you while you make your way out of the airport; thankfully, you were wearing appropriately for the weather, as Argentina in February proved to be sweltering hot. As you wore your sunglasses, you went into a nearby taxi.

Arriving at your boyfriend’s doorsteps, you fish the keys out from your pocket, unlocking your fiance's apartment door, and the scent of clean linen hits you right in the nose as you enter his living space. You immediately settle your baggage in the living room as you throw yourself on Tooru’s soft bed covers. You rest for a couple of minutes before grasping your phone out of your pocket, immediately texting your boyfriend something out of context, all according to your devious valentines plan.

The need to sleep washes over you, as you drown yourself in the plush covers of Tooru’s bed, inhaling its fresh laundry scent, but much to your dismay, you compelled to pull yourself out of bed as you grab that one baggage full of your plans for your fiance as you slowly unzipped it, smirking as you pull out other items to prepare a grand surprise for him.

Tooru won’t know what he’s gonna get., you laugh out in your thoughts.

Morning practice has ended as usual. Right after a series of cool-down exercises, Oikawa went for his water bottle, drinking a huge amount as he hydrated himself after a tiring practice. He reaches for his phone, hearing the familiar vibration of his phone as he opens it to his joy a message from you. He immediately checks your chat, only to see a photo of what looks like a doll of him, to which he raises an eyebrow in confusion.

He replies back, scoffing at the picture you sent him as he immediately closes his phone and returns it in his bag.

Knowing that woman… She’s probably onto something… but what could it be? He thought, recalling the picture as he grabbed a fresh shirt from his bag. “She’s just probably lonely without me, and bought a doll that captures my features. My poor sweet fiance~”, he laughs off as he goes for the restroom with his clothes. He washes his face quickly before removing his sweaty training clothes, and changes with a fresh white shirt and olive green cargo shorts. He packs his things before waving goodbye to his teammates with a casual “Adios!”

As he walks on his way home, he rechecks his phone again at the odd photo that you sent him. Yes, it’s a doll version of him, but he couldn’t help but feel creeped out by it. To his surprise, you sent him another picture of it, only a close-up, but this time, he felt his hair on his arms raise.

“Y/N-chan mi amor is probably just teasing me again.”, he huffs in mind as he hums, skipping on his way home.

As he reached the front door of his apartment, he felt his spine shiver and the growing unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach wasn’t helping. His apartment door was slightly opened.

Someone could be in his house. 

He felt the need to call the police, but instead worked up the courage as he slowly opened the door. But before Tooru could enter, something hit him in the face.

“Wh-what the hell?!” Tooru swatted the object in front of him, only to reveal the familiar doll you sent to him earlier tied to the ceiling, connected to the knob. He grabbed the doll in anger as a torn paper suddenly fell from the plush.

‘mIss Me?’

He felt a wave of shiver in his spine as he clutched onto the doll, looking at it sinisterly. He tiptoed inside, not making a sound as he grabbed a nearby umbrella from a stand. His apartment was exactly as it was when he left. He looked around, seeing everything was in place. He creeped to the cupboards and closet in the living area to check for any signs of intruder. His anxiety grew as he inspected around, clutching onto the doll and the weapon. A wave of relief washed over him as he sighed when nothing was suspicious as of note. He wearily placed his sports bag on the sofa, crashing on his sofa. He inspected the doll, and upon closer look, the doll was wearing his old Aoba Johsai jersey.

The same doll you sent him a picture of earlier.

A sudden slow squeak was heard.

The door of his bedroom squeaked as it painfully opened ajar. Tooru’s petrified eyes turned towards the source that revealed another doll, standing as it looked at him. His instincts made him grab the umbrella as he made way to his bedroom. He picked up the plush, wearing a different uniform, his Kitagawa Daiichi uniform this time.

His eyes turned to his bed, six more dolls of him wearing different uniforms were scattered around on his bed. His grip on the umbrella loosened, letting it fall to the floor as he noticed how each doll wore different uniforms from his past. He noticed a large paper in the midst of the dolls, ‘Happy Valentines Day’ that was written in red ink that had Tooru back away from the bed to his closet.

Wait, Happy Valentines’ Day, mi amor?

Out of the blue, a hand suddenly clutched onto his shoulders, quickly wrapping around him as he screamed, pulling away from the arms. He ran for the door, but ultimately fell in the process. His attention immediately turned to the arms from his closet.

He immediately prayed at the closet as he pleaded and cried, “Please don’t kill me! I’m too beautiful to die! I have a fiance waiting for me on the other side of the world! At least let me marry her before you kill me! PLEASE!”

His train of thought got distracted as a laugh which was way too familiar for him entered his ears as you emerged from his closet, your phone peeking through the cracks of his drawer recording everything that happened.

“Long time no see, Tooru!”, you winked at his petrified state while laughing.

“Y-Y/N-chan? You-”, he cried out, pissed and shocked as you embraced him. “There, there, it’s all over now! See?” You reassuringly said as you patted his back. 

Letting go after a full minute of hugging. “Why would you do that?! You almost gave me a heart attack!” He cried. You laugh out with tears on your eyes, “You should have seen your face!” You hugged your stomach, not being able to bear the events that transpired. Tooru could only pout at your initial betrayal.

“So mean of you, Y/N-chan!” He watches you grab your phone from his drawer, laughing as he looks at you rewatching the entire scenario on your camera, replaying on specific parts that were deemed too unforgettable as your boyfriend could only stare at you in part amusement and betrayal.

“You’re enjoying this too much, mi cielo!”, he complains further, folding his arms.

“Of course I am! I mean, what’s a better way to surprise my dear fiance?”, you say as you hit send to the Seijoh group chat before Tooru snatches your phone away. 

He scrolled through the group chat as he looked at you again, pouting. “You, Iwa-chan and the others conspired?!”, you snickered as you scratched the back of your head.

“Oh Tooru my baby, I’m so sorry. I hope my presence here in Argentina makes up for it, though.”, you say, about to give him a hug once more, but he immediately pulled you to him, kissing you on the lips as he snapped a photo. He then sends the picture before looking at your flustered state with a smirk.

“Y/N-chan, from this day on, I forbid you from spending too much time with Iwa-chan and the others! Look what they influenced you with!”, he angrily said, before looking at you with his famous serious eyes, sending chills to your spine. “You’re mine, got it?”

You raised your hands in defeat, “Alright, alright, I got it, babe.” You grabbed his hand, leading him to the kitchen. “Now come on, I’ll cook something for us to make up for the emotional damage I’ve caused you.”

He snickers as he continued, “While I do appreciate you cherishing my beautiful existence like this, where did you even get those dolls?”, emphasizing on the dolls with spite.

You show off a smirk as you tease him, “Oh you know, Iwa-chan was very willing to help me out, and the others too. Looks like seeking their help was worth it!”.

Ah, of course, Iwa-chan has something to do with this., he thought.

He pouts as he looks at you. “I sometimes wonder, why did I even fall for a weirdo like you?”.

You laughed at him, “Well, the thing is, Tooru, I’ll be your weirdo forever!”, as you flash him the diamond engagement ring that he proposed to you after his team won the Olympics a few months ago. Oh what a blissful moment.

Argentina wins the final game as a final spike seals the deal, with strings of sky blue, white and yellow confetti flying around the stadium. The Argentine Volleyball Team runs to each other, hugging and crying in victory as they pat each other in the back. The roaring cheers of the Argentine audience further overwhelms the team in celebration as the rest of the team finally knocks on their setter Oikawa, reminding him of something.

“It’s finally time, Tooru.”, one of his teammates tells him as he looks at your direction, who’s currently looking at the entire team in sheer joy from the stands. Oikawa immediately feels the anxiety, with a lump forming in his throat as he carefully grabs the box from the bench to make sure you don’t see it. To his surprise, you were gone from where you were standing earlier and now he sees you running straight to his direction.

“Congrats, my baby!”, you scream as you hug him tightly albeit his sweaty figure.

He hugs you back, “Thank you, mi cielo!”.

As the team looks at you guys from afar, they quickly disperse back to the bench to give their beloved setter a spotlight. One of them gives him a microphone, much to your curiosity.

“Y/N-chan! I’m so thankful for your love and support for the past years that were together. And now that I’m getting a gold medal, I was also wondering if you’re willing to accept my last name as a gold medal.”, he says on the microphone as he slowly kneels in front of you, prompting you to cover your mouth in shock.

Tooru then opens the red velvet box for you to see a diamond engagement ring sparkling beyond your wildest dreams, “W-Will you marry this idiot, Y/N mi amor?”.

Cheers went louder as tears began welling up in your eyes, processing what is just happening in front of you. The Argentine setter looks at you anxiously before you finally nod in tears, “Yes Tooru my idiot, I will marry you!”.

“Well I suppose, we can be weirdos together forever, right mi cielo?”, he replies, kissing your ring as the memory makes him smile. You proceed to give him a kiss on the cheeks, smiling in return.

back to valentines masterlist

[kaimelia]

Say Love

a/n: hi! this is a quick kinda random post-17x09 fic I wrote. basically after Amelia gets home from Owen's house.

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

"Hey," Link smiled excitedly, watching as Amelia pulled off her shoes and placed them on the rack.

"Hi." She walked towards him with her arms held out. "I need a hug," she whispered, stepping into his embrace. Link wrapped her up in his arms tightly, and Amelia sighed contently.

"You okay?" She stepped back and nodded, brushing her hand through her hair.

"Yeah. I just had a long day." Amelia leaned against his chest again, pressing her face into his shirt.

"How's Teddy doing?" Link questioned, pulling Amelia to sit on the couch with him.

"I think she's getting better; when I got there, she really wasn't doing well. Owen texted me once I was leaving and said she was up and calming Allison down," she murmured, curling against Link's body. "I'm sorry I was gone for so long; I honestly thought Owen was exaggerating."

"Isn't it a little weird? Helping your ex-husband fix his new relationship?" She looked up at him and smiled.

"A little. But I'm glad I can help. Not everyone can be perfect like us," Amelia teased, placing her hand on his chest. "Wait, is Scout asleep?" Link nodded proudly.

"Yup, he's been down for almost an hour, now." She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Ellis and Bailey are asleep, and Zola's reading in her room."

"Look at you. You're practically a stay-at-home dad, now." He grinned.

"I take care of the kids while you go to work. I'm singlehandedly taking down the patriarchy." They both laughed as she hit his chest playfully, her head shaking in amusement. She jolted upward as the baby monitor on the table rang, and Scout's cries blared loudly.

"I'll get him," Amelia stood up, "I miss my baby." Link watched as she walked quickly up the stairs, skipping a few steps in her excitement. He smiled as the sounds of her cooing filled the hallway in front of him, her arms carefully cradling their crying son in her arms. "Has he eaten recently?" Link shook his head and sat up on the couch, pulling her nursing pillow from the end of the sofa. He placed it on her lap as she sat down and adjusted her shirt, wide grins covering both of their faces when their son's cries immediately subsided. "He smells like lavender. Did you bathe him?"

"Poor guy was having a rough day without you. I think he just wanted to nurse; he really did not want a bottle. I did skin-to-skin to try and calm him down, and he kept trying to nurse from me." Her eyebrows narrowed as she laughed softly.

"And yet, he still likes you better," she murmured, giving Link a side-eye. "How'd you get him down?"

"I tried everything. Practically walked a mile in the backyard, we laid down for a while, and then I resorted to a bath, even though it's not bath night. I think he just tired himself out. So, you can't say he likes me better."

"You still got him to sleep. He probably would've kept screaming for me," she glanced down at the baby.

"You want anything to eat?" The mother shrugged.

"I'm honestly not hungry, but thanks." She leaned her head back against the cushion, rolling it to the side to look at him. "I told Owen that we'd have them over for dinner sometime. Or watch the kids and give his mom a break or something. I was trying to offer ways to help."

"You wanna add more kids to this house?" Amelia smirked, nodding her head.

"We're being good friends. And one day, once they get through this, they'll take Scout and give us some time off." She fixed her shirt once Scout had finished eating, taking the burp cloth she had brought down and standing up. Link watched as she bounced him up and down, patting his back. "What are the odds he goes back to sleep soon, and we get to go to bed early?"

"Probably about zero," Link answered, pushing himself off of the couch to stand next to her. "He's almost three months old. Don't their sleep schedules get better as they get older?"

"Yeah, but he'll start teething in a month or two, and he'll be an absolute terror."

"It'll be cute, though. When he gets his little tiny teeth," Link cooed, holding his arms out to take the baby.

"Until he starts biting my nipples. Did you know that's a thing? They bite you?" He shook his head while cringing, scrunching his nose.

"No, our little guy wouldn't do that, would he?" She watched him hold the baby out, emitting a laugh from the tiny boy.

"I'm never gonna get tired of that laugh," Amelia confessed. Scout had started to laugh recently, and Amelia made every effort to record him to have it on video. Link had walked in on her staring at her phone, widely grinning as she rewatched videos of the baby laughing in his high-pitched, quiet little voice.

"He's just the cutest baby ever."

"Everyone says that about their babies." He looked at her with wide eyes.

"Are you saying he's not the cutest baby?" He pouted his lip out, tilting his head to the side. Amelia laughed at him and wrapped her arm around his waist.

"No, he is." She leaned her head against his shoulder, watching their son's blue eyelids flutter open and closed. "Is he falling asleep?"

"I think he is," Link whispered, carefully beginning to walk towards the stairs. She trailed closely behind him as they tiptoed upstairs. She held her breath as Link lowered him into the crib, sighing in relief as the boy didn't stir.

"He really fell asleep," Amelia stated in disbelief, moving to turn off the nursery light. "We're getting pretty good at this, aren't we?" Her boyfriend pulled her into the hallway; a toothy grin spread across his face as he held his hand up. Amelia high-fived him gently, making sure not to cause too much noise.

"We are absolutely killing this parenting thing."

[pointnumbersixteen]

Random Notes from a 3:30AM Rewatch From the First Third of My Favorite Episode: Moonah Ston

One day I should probably write on which episodes are my favorites and least favorites and why, but tonight is not that night. This is my favorite episode, however. 

1) Pigeon coos. “How?!” 

2) “Bitches! Bitches! Bitches!” I find it incredibly amusing that this is how Barclay refers to his dogs.

3) I enjoy how Cap looks at Fanny after she corrects Barclay’s description of her appearance at every point until he says she’s young and attractive, to which she says nothing. 

4) Of course Barclay’s a Tory. 

5) I love Pat and Tally (the yellow dog) together. “It’s worth it.” 

6) Robin hears the dog howl, sniffs the air, and knows there’s an eclipse coming. Did he somehow smell it in the air or is their a distinct howl in dog-ese that says ‘there’s a lunar eclipse tonight’? It’s been implied in other episodes that Robin can somehow communicate with animals and it could be fun to see it explored further.

7) Waaaaaaaaaaaaay too many ‘Tootsies.’ “Stop saying Tootsie!” “What be a tootsie?” Same, Cap and Mary.

8) “Who would you like to hear speak more- me or Thomas?” Silence. “Be there a third option?” Ouch, Mary. Sick burn. 

9) In my experience, frozen lasagna tastes better than the homemade lasagna of at least half the people who claim they can make homemade lasagna, so I do not fault Alison for her lasagna being frozen lasagna in the slightest. Yes, girl, serve me up some of that frozen stuff if you can’t make it taste good yourself or that’s too much bother, it’ll be fine, and probably better off for it.

10) This is the episode that made me go discover what a rissole is. Oyster rissoles still don’t sound particularly good, but at least it’s not for the reasons Mike was thinking.

11) Cap’s joy at successfully directing Mike in shooting the pheasant fills me with a little joy every time I see it. Followed by: “There’s a hare. There’s a hare! There’s a hare!”  And the little “pom pom” when he mimes shooting it with his swagger stick. ...It just now occurred to me, but I should probably add ‘small game hunting’ to my running list of his hobbies and interests, since I think this whole scene is pretty conclusive in that way. 

12) Alison, how can Mary come get you when the pheasant looks done when the oven door has no window in it and she can’t open it up to check? 

13) “Loosely based. Any questions?” Immediately ignores all question when several hands go up. “Excellent.” Oh, Captain. How I adore you.

[murderousginger]

Written In The Streets

Peaky Blinders fic

Cops & Robbers Part 4

Warnings: Sex. Murder. Fluff. Angst. They're criminals guys, they do bad things.

Words: 3.8k

--Note: Happy Tuesday! I had a 3 day weekend and got excited during a rewatch of Peaky Blinders season 1. This is a little spicier and violent, but it very much is in the realm of the show. Enjoy!--

Tagging: @imagine-that-100 @blinder-secrets @rae-you-gotta-be-kidding-me @theshelbyclan @peakascum @sweatydragoncloudknight

It was midday and you were busy about the house when a knock came upon your door. You paused, listening hard before you moved toward it. You hadn't been expecting anyone. You paused at the door, staring hard at it before you finally unlocked it and opened it a crack. 

"Come with me," Tommy said as he grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the sliver in your doorway.

"Tommy," you shrieked and fought back but his grip on your wrist was too strong. "at least let me lock the door."

He looked back at you and loosened his grip wordlessly. You turned and grabbed your purse from the hallway and locked the door, turning back to Tommy. He grabbed your hand again, this time with less strength, and led you to his car.

The ride was quiet and thoughts raced through your head. You stole a glance at Tommy, white knuckled and eyes locked on the road ahead of him. You had no way of knowing where he was taking you and you grew more worried the longer it was quiet. You itched to relieve the tension, but you feared it at the same time.

Tommy stopped the car at the side of a bridge over The Cut and got out of the car, rounding it to open your door. He held his hand out for you and you took it without hesitation, stepping out of the car and following him down a set of stairs to the canal. He stopped you a few steps from the bottom and sat you down, looking off at the water, his hand still holding yours. You watched him closely as he nodded out to the canal.

"This," Tommy said as he looked over the water, "is where I come to think sometimes. When it's quiet. When my mind won't be."

You sat quiet, watching his blue eyes scan the horizon. You looked out into the canal, surveying the waterway and the bend up ahead with fresh eyes to try to see what he saw.

"And this," Tommy rumbled, "here, here is how I found you and John." 

Your head snapped up to look at him, Tommy's gaze squinting over the water. You ripped your hand from his as if he burnt you. He pointed to the bank a few hundred feet down and nodded. 

"You came running into the water there," he said evenly. "Harping at John to turn his back as you threw off your dress." 

Your cheeks burned in embarrassment. Your head dipped when Tommy finally turned his attention to you.

"Nothing to see in the 2 a.m. black," he said softly before returning his attention to the riverbank and the story. "John turned, I'm guessing. Perhaps not. Your clothes went off, and that's when I realized you were the one occupying our John's nights."

"Our John," you repeated with mirth. "Your John. Esme's John. Not mine."

"He's as much yours as ours," he said. "There's few things he'd choose above you. More he'd fight."

"But he would choose above me," you said.

"Can't have that, can you?" Tommy teased dryly. "Our (Y/N)'s greedy."

"Business before me," you said stiffly. "Blood before me. Not a woman."

"Not a woman," Tommy said. "And when the business keeps the man from your bed? And coppers or Italians pull you from your door because they think they can leverage you from who you're fucking?"

"That life I know," you said softly. "As long as he's honest."

"If you want to work in my organization, you have to make sacrifices," he said. 

"All I've made is sacrifices," you retorted with a snort. "Who wants to date a Blinders girl, Tommy? There's always been rumors I'm either carrying a dick or being passed around by you lot. Any men that weren't deterred by that were sure as hell scared of you boys." 

"Well," he said with an amused look, "could always have left Polly's rule for search for a husband, if that's what you're after."

"I'm not after a husband, Tommy," you shot back. "My mother detests me I have no close kin, no husband, no love. Blinders are my life." 

Tommy reached for your hand again and slowly brushed his thumb along your knuckle. 

"You're family, (Y/N)," Tommy said quietly. 

"I'm not Shelby," you said. "You may be my boys but I don't belong."

"You'll always belong with us," Tommy said. "It's all about where you want to be."

"And where is it you want me to be, Tommy?" You asked softly.

Tommy let go of your hand with a pat and looked back out to the canal. All moments of softness hidden behind an air of business.

"I want to see what you're made of," he said. "I've paired you with John. Tomorrow you'll go with him to The Yard. Got a man named Wilks that works for us. Word is he's got loose lips on the whiskey. Find out who he told what to."

"You trust me with John?" You said with a raised brow.

"I trust that what's done might be done again," he said evenly. "But I trust he'll watch out for you more than anyone but me."

"Tommy--" you started.

"Go see him in the morning and do the job," Tommy cut you off. "To prove yourself."

"I've already proven myself," you argued. "Years ago."

"You proved yourself to Pol, not me," Tommy said cooly. "Pol's not running things anymore. And if you want to keep your place you'll need to keep up." 

"Fine, Tommy," you said with a sigh as you turned back to the canal. "I'll show you my worth."

"I've no doubt you will," he said as he looked over the water. 

----

The next morning you got ready in the twilight. You decided on a simple dress and boots and stuffed your pockets with a small knife each. You cursed yourself that you never got around to a gun, but you had never found a good way to conceal one and your shot needed work. 

When you were done, you slipped out of your apartment and headed toward John's home. You moved quickly through the streets as the sun rose and the birds started to sing their morning songs. After a few blocks, you looked up to John's house and took a deep breath before knocking on the door. 

A young girl opened the door and looked up at you expectantly. You nervously smiled. 

"'lo," you said, rubbing your sweaty hands along the front of your dress, "is John -- erhm your dad home?"

The girl eyed you shortly before opening the door the rest of the way and walking back to a seat next to a baby in a chair. Nothing was said as she went back to feeding the baby.

"John," you called, hesitating in the doorway before you walked in. "Where are you?"

Kids were all over the kitchen. One of the girls was perched on a stool cooking on the stove, two boys were wrestling on the floor yelling, and of course the baby being fed by the girl that let you in. None of them paid you much mind as you walked through the kitchen and into the other room. You saw a closed door, guessing it was a bedroom.

"John" you yelled and kicked the door with your boot. It gave way much easier than you expected and swung open to reveal the sight before you. 

Esme was on top of John, riding him like a prized racehorse. She barely stopped her rhythm as she wrapped the sheet around her more to hide her chest. John lay back grinning with his hands disappeared into the sheet. He laughed as she saw you in the doorway.

"Tommy finally get tired of interrupting us hisself?" Esme said in between breaths. 

Your eyes widened as you realized what you were witnessing. 

"Oh god--" you exclaimed and turned back around, walking back into the kitchen. 

You sat down on the other side of the table from the kids and waited, mouth shut as you tried to look anywhere but the doorway you came from. 

A sharp yell of passion erupted from the other room and you bit your lip nervously as you watched the girl at the stove. 

"You staying for breakfast?" The girl said, eyeing you as she stirred. You smiled nervously. 

"No thank you," you said quietly. "I'm just here to see your father."

Esme appeared in the doorway, still flushed but dressed in a navy flowy dress and shawl, and looked at you with an amused quirk of her lips. 

"Here to see John, eh?" She said over the scuffle on the floor as she wrapped the shawl around her shoulders tighter and sat next to the girl feeding the baby. 

"Boys, go wrestle elsewhere," Esme said sharply. 

They both sounded a "yes mum" as they got off the floor and pushed and shoved each other into the other room. 

"Yes," you said as the kitchen quieted. "Tommy sent me. I'm (Y/N). I'm s'pose to go with John to handle business at the dock."

"(Y/N)," Esme said as she looked at you. "His little friend from childhood? I've heard of you. Prettier than I expected, running with Shelby boys for so long."

You blushed and ducked your head with a murmur of thanks. 

"You're not one I should worry about, are you?" She said, leaning back in her chair and placing a hand on the table in front of her.

"No," you said with a laugh. "I'm not anyone's second priority. And you and the children are rightfully first." 

"Good," Esme said with a small smile. "I think I like you. It'd be a shame to kill you." 

"Knives or guns your specialty?" You asked with a grin. "You should have seen this man the other night when I threatened to cut off his balls."

You both laughed, equally relaxing in your seats.

"Is that my favorite girls getting along?" John said as he entered the kitchen while putting on his belt. 

John grinned at you as he put his arm around Esme, placing a kiss on her head. 

"Mornings are best when started with sex or breakfast," he laughed as he kissed Esme on the lips before turning to you. "When it's both it's better."

He nabbed a biscuit off the table and bit into it and winked at you.

"Shame you've been keeping us apart, John," you said with a look. "Esme and I could have been giving you a run for ages."

"Likely drive me mad," he said with a laugh. "Both of you on whiskey together would be more trouble than it's worth."

"Promise?" Esme said grinning. "We must have a night then, (Y/N)."

You nodded as John rolled his eyes. 

"Right, then," he said, ruffling his daughter's hair and giving Esme another kiss. "Let's be off before you can make more trouble in my kitchen."

You scoffed with a laugh as he shooed you to stand and pushed you out the door. 

"Nice to meet you!" You called behind you.

"You can't hide her anymore, John," Esme yelled as you both left. 

John guided you down to the car and opened the door for you. You smacked him as you climbed in. 

"What was that for?" He exclaimed and pushed your shoulder before he closed your door and made his way into the driver's seat. 

"I like her," you said. "And you're a dick." 

John chuckled and drove to the dock. 

----

John drove to The Yard and parked. You both got out of the car and made your way through the streets looking for the man named Wilks. 

"John boy!" A voice boomed. You both looked over to see a gruff older man with a big smile headed your way with open arms. 

"Uncle Charlie," John called back as he hugged the man. 

"I see you've got angel with you," Charlie said with a grin. 

You grinned back as Charlie let go of John to hug you. 

"Charlie," you said, "still up to no good?"

You both chuckled and John looked on at you quizzically. Charlie's arm hung around your shoulders as he faced John.

"Angel?" John asked. "You two know each other?"

"Your aunt Pol used to send this one down with orders," Charlie said, squeezing you in a side hug. "She refused to tell me her name for ages. Shy thing, she was. I told her angels had no names. So we all called her angel at the docks. Sweet thing she is, too sweet to run with you boys."

John's brows raised in shock. 

"Well aren't you full of surprises," he said as he grabbed a pick from his pocket and rolled it in his mouth. "You've got all kinds of names and secrets, it sounds like."

"And you're shortly learning them all," you grimaced. You turned your attention to Charlie. "We're looking for a man named Wilks, seen him?"

"Aye," Charlie said, watching you both closely before pointing. "He's down there by the dock."

"Right," John said. "We'll need to talk to him alone. Send the rest on break."

Charlie nodded and you all walked down, Charlie quietly sending the others away as he discreetly nodded to a pudgy man near the edge of the water. You both cornered the man, his eyes widened as he backed up and his heel teetered on the edge of the dock. You raised your hands to halt him. 

"We're only here to talk," you reassured with a smile. "Heard you might have gotten a little drunk at a pub. Told someone something you shouldn't."

"I didn't mean to," he said looking between you and John's stone faced expression. "Was just a drink or two and then he asked me a question I found odd." 

"Who?" You asked in a soothing voice, hands still up as you stepped forward. "Did you know the man?"

John watched you with sharp eyes as you got closer to Wilks as if walking to a scared horse. He chewed on his pick, letting you do the talking. 

"I didn't know them," he said, scared. "Just a man asking what it was like to work at docks. If we had any openings. If we moved anything odd. Anything to note."

"And what did you tell them?" John said, taking a step forward but still a good length behind you. You were nearly next to the man as his eyes darted between you both and behind him as he looked for an exit. 

"I told him we move the normal stuff," he said gruffly, "and sometimes we move what Shelby's ask. He perked up at the name. Said it must be exciting to work for criminals. Must see some crazy cargo. I shrugged. Just told him sometimes you have shipments. Anything from guns to medical rations. Told him a shipment went to Camden Town not too long ago."

"Shouldn't have done that, Wilks," John said darkly as he took another step forward. "We don't take kindly to business being passed around." 

"I didn't do nothin'," Wilks protested. "I've got a wife and kids to feed." 

"Should have thought of that before you went talking," John said. 

Wilks grabbed your wrist and swung your body around, his calloused hand gripping your throat and the other around your waist. John cut the distance in a stride and stopped as Wilks lifted you by the throat, pressing your back to his chest.

"I don't want no trouble," he said, eyes darting for an exit. "Let me go home."

Your hands flew to your throat and your feet kicked as he lifted you higher. You could barely breathe in through his grip.

"Shouldn't have done that," John said with a glint in his eye. He pulled out his pistol and aimed it at him.

"Shouldn't have brought a girl for a man's job," Wilks growled in your ear as he squeezed your throat tighter. 

John's eyes were dark as he tried to aim at the man behind you. His face cycled between fear and anger as you realized he wouldn't have a good shot with Wilks holding you so close.

You gritted your teeth and kicked again. You felt your heel connect with his shin and he squeezed your throat harder as he roared. You dropped a hand from your throat and elbowed his chest as you thrashed in his hands. You clumsily made way to your pockets and pulled out a knife as your eyesight started to blacken. John lowered his pistol as you pulled back and stabbed Wilks in the thigh, making the man drop you. 

You stepped out of his reach and John raged forward with his fist cocked back. John's fist connected with Wilks’ face with a crack and the man fell to the ground. John continued pummeling the man as he writhed on the ground, your knife still in his thigh. 

You touched your neck, feeling the bruising that was likely to occur. You breathed deep, feeling the oxygen rush through you as you tried to stay conscious. As oxygen came back you turned back to John beating the man and grabbed John's arm as he cocked it back to hit Wilk's face again. 

As you grabbed his arm, he twisted in your grip and was about to punch you when he realized who you were and stopped himself. Wilks was beneath his feet in a bloody pile, his face almost indistinguishable. John's eyes met yours as you held his arm and looked at the blood that had spattered on his face and the wild look in his blue eyes. 

"John," you said hoarsely. Your throat was scratchy from being choked. 

His eyes softened and he pulled you to his chest. 

"Don't fucking scare me like that, yeah?" He whispered into your hair as you clung to him.

"I'm fine," you said. "But we need him alive to ask, yeah?" 

John let out a sigh as he deflated. 

"Yeah," he said. 

You pulled away and looked at his blue eyes worrying over you. You patted his arm and stepped out of his embrace to lean over the half conscious man under his feet. 

"Wilks," you said with a low growl. "Who did you tell?"

Wilks cried out as John kicked his ribs, finally stepping to the side so he wasn't under his feet. 

"I don't know," he said, screaming as you grabbed your knife from his thigh and pulled it out. "I didn't know the man. He had longer hair maybe? An odd accent. I'd never seen him before, I swear." 

You scowled at him, wiping his blood off of your knife with his vest. You pressed the knife under his throat. 

"Are you sure?" You growled. 

"Sounds like it could have been an Italian," John said as he spit on the man. "Maybe a Jew."

"I don't know," he cried. "Please."

You pulled your knife away and hid it back into your pocket. You looked up at John as he glared down at Wilks. 

"Your call, Shelby," you said, voice still hoarse. 

"I'll kill him," he said, kicking the man again. 

"No," you said. 

John scowled down at you, his jaw ticked as he was about to talk. 

"I'll do it," you said, sounding stronger than you felt. "This is meant to be my proofing water." 

John started again to fight you, but you raised a hand while you fished your knife out. Wilks started to thrash beneath you and John stepped on his chest to hold him still. John's eyes looked conflicted as you pulled the knife out of your pocket again and ran a finger along the blade.

You had hurt men before, but you had never killed. Most of your experience was from self defense. Tommy wanted to prove yourself, so prove yourself you shall. 

"You don't have to," John said defeated. "I'll tell Tommy you did it. You don't have to."

"No, John," you said solemnly. "I do. You aren't saving me from it. This is mine." 

You turned to Wilks and cut his throat in a swift motion. Blood poured from his neck as the light left his eyes. You stood up and stepped back as John kicked Wilks into the water. You watched numbly, knife still at your side. 

"Hey," John said as he turned around and rested his hand on your cheek. "Is'aright. Come here." 

He pulled you into his chest and you teared up but fought the urge to cry. You gulped it down, feeling the pain in your neck again. 

"John," you whispered. 

He pulled back to look you in the eye, one hand on your cheek and the other on your waist. 

"Let's get you back to your wife, yeah?" You said as you tried to feign a smile. 

You rested your hand on his chest before gently pushing him away. 

"Yeah, (Y/N)," John sighed. "Okay."

The ride back was quiet. You looked straight ahead as John drove, even though you could feel his eyes on you from time to time. When he offered to drive you home, you declined, telling him you'd rather walk from his home. 

You hugged him goodbye when you arrived at his home, and breathed deep the smell of him. He always smelled of gunpowder and pine, and you breathed it in deeply to comfort yourself. You said your goodbyes despite his worried expression, and walked down the road in a daze. You weren't ready to go home just yet. 

You stopped at a local bakery and bought a small piece of bread and walked to The Cut. You sat on Tommy's thinking place stairs and looked out over the canal, thinking. You sat for hours in a daze, eating bread and trying to process your thoughts. As twilight began to tease the sky, you snapped out of your thoughts. You needed to get home. 

You walked to your apartment and at the last minute you were grabbed by your neighbor. Gail was an older neighbor that always treated you kindly. You often brought her teas when you found a new flavor she might like. 

"Men came through asking where you were," Gail said in hushed tones. "They claimed to be coppers. They're in your apartment waiting for you now." 

You thanked her and left quickly back into the streets. It was now dark and getting colder by the moment. There was only one place you could think to go, so you walked to Tommy's house. You snuck in to sit on his bed and waited for him to arrive home for the night.

[aces-of-the-center-court]

hello hello, welcome to our humble abode! thank you for liking our writing, we can only hope to continue to satisfy your needs :) this was a collaboration writing between raine & I, we both had a lot of fun writing for this request. thank you so much for the request! <3 without further ado, please enjoy the third gym squad + kageyama reactions! :) - mod sunny. < this is repost because it was not showing up on tags! >

Akaashi Keiji:

He would first be at a loss for words, extremely concerned, and would be silent for a moment before hastening a little to hold you in his arms tightly

Keeping you in his embrace, he would gently and soothingly caress your head as you continue to bawl against his chest

While waiting for you to calm down, he would think back on some possible matters that could have caused you to act this way – but Y/N had not act out of the ordinary the past few days, weeks or even months, so what could be the problem?

With Akaashi’s proficient ability in handling emotions, it wouldn’t take long for you to cool down in his comforting hug and pats

Once you have cooled down, he would gently ask how you’re doing and if you would like to talk about it with him. At your nod, he would empathetically smile at you knowingly

“I’ll go get you something to drink.” He’d leave to get you a hot drink to help calm your mind and emotions, and patiently wait until your irregular breathing from the crying stabilises

Figures. He would think when you reveal that you broke down from the emotional series finale of an anime that you’re emotionally attached to

He’d find you adorable and would offer to help you get over the series – be it rewatching the anime and dealing with your emotional outburst again, or going on a movie marathon and eating your favourite foods to cope.

Kuroo Tetsuro:

When he saw the back view of you sobbing to yourself, he would watch you quietly for a while before leaving to give you some time alone

Worried, he would remain somewhere close by where he’d be able to hear you – just in case – but not close enough that you would notice his presence

When your cries finally softened and gradually stopped, Kuroo would wordlessly enter and give you a comforting side hug, rubbing your back and waiting for you to be ready to speak

He would wipe your tear-streaked face and smooth out your hair before gently asking you for the details of your tears

Before revealing the reason, you would warn him not to laugh first and he would agree but become slightly amused and curious at your warning – it must not be that serious then, he’d think to himself, slightly relieved

Kuroo would listen intently when you tell him you were crying because an anime has reached its conclusion and you were already missing the anime and its characters

Despite trying to keep the promise of not laughing, he would still end up chuckling in relief before you hit him in the arms for breaking the promise

He would light-heartedly apologise and reassure you that there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, then offer to re-watch the series with you to make up for breaking the promise and would later turn out the one with slightly red eyes.

Tsukishima Kei:

Upon seeing you cry, though his expressions may remain stoic, his heart would sink, and he’d start getting worried, wondering why you were crying

Unsure if you’d want comfort or some time alone, he’d ask you directly but with concern in his voice, “Should I leave?”

When you shake your head, he’d assume you want to talk about it and settle down next to you, asking you what’s wrong

Pointing to your laptop screen that showed the final episode of your favourite anime, you’d cry out in between your sobs, “It… it ended…”

As he processed your words, the worry in Tsukishima’s eyes would slowly shift to one of relief, disbelief, then mockery

“So, you’re telling me that you’re crying because of fictional characters that do not exist?” He’d tease you in his usual scornful tone, in an attempt to distract you from your sorrow mood

Obviously, he’d be glad that you weren’t crying over something more grave or severe, but the teasing would be his way of venting on you for making him worried for nothing

The distraction would work as instead of crying, you’d spend the rest of the time resentfully convincing Tsukishima why the series is worth crying over and getting annoyed at him for mocking you

From now on, every time you start watching a new anime, you will never be spared from Tsukishima’s teasing – “Are you going to cry again when it ends?”

Bokuto Koutarou:

He would be shocked at first, but would immediately try to get your attention, “Y/N! What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

He would soothe your back as you sob, whispering words of comfort to you, “There, there, it’s okay now, Y/N.”

You would be drawn to this caring side of his and rest your head against his chest while he would simply continue pacifying you until you stop crying

When you’re finally calm and ready to open up, he would give you a supportive grin and wait for you to speak

As you explain, Bokuto’s face would take on many expressions while listening

“SO! What you’re trying to say is that, this friend of yours was actually hurting inside but was hiding it the whole time? What a fine person! Your friend is too good of a person!” He would dramatically wipe the corner of his teary eyes, “Y/N, I now understand why you were crying. Let’s go help this friend of yours out!”

You would tell him you wished you could too, except that friend of yours doesn’t exist and is just a character from an anime, you’d reiterate

With his arms crossed and eyes closed, he would speak inspirationally, “No, anyone who can connect with you emotionally is a friend.” and nod matter-of-factly

Touched by how Bokuto could understand the impact of the anime on you, you would agree with his words wholeheartedly and decide to write a fan letter to the author of the work regarding the character, with Bokuto helping you by your side.

Kageyama Tobio:

Stunned, Kageyama would stare at you for a while, discerning if you were actually crying or if his eyes were tricking him

When he realised you were indeed weeping, he’d visibly panic – eyes darting around and arms flailing about – not sure what he should do or how to comfort you

He’d approach you hesitantly as he puts a hand on your shoulder and ask, “…Are you okay?”  to which you’d shake your head as you continue to sob

“Are you hurt?” he’d worriedly scan you for injuries, but you’d shake your head again

“Was someone mean to you?” he’d think of potential culprits – Could it be Hinata? Or Tsukishima? – but again, you’d shake your head

This would continue for a while as he tried to figure out what’s wrong, but to no avail – “Then… why are you crying?”

After your tearful explanation that the anime you love has such a sad ending, he’d honestly be a little confused and not able to understand, “But… they’re not real…”

You’d be mad if it was someone else who said it, but seeing his muddled expression, you could only sigh exasperatedly and respond, “Forget it…”

Your reaction would make him even more confused and anxious, wondering if he had done something wrong, “I just don’t want you to cry…” He’d mumble to himself

Hearing those words would soften your heart and you’d just hug him, taking comfort in his embrace as you attempt to get over the anime series without tears this time.