#[ Student by Day Clerk by Night ]

[warsinmyhead]

Jimin Tag Dump

[snzhrchy]

— ☆ Ill-Fated !

chishiya shuntaro x gn!reader

summary; you and chishiya surviving the borderlands together. themes; friends to lovers; coworkers; trusting eachother with their lives; death; slowburn; one of two parts. notes; back from hiatus (maybe) i got carried away w/ this lmao - i jus love chishiya so much <3<3

MAJOR AiB2 SPOILERS !!

You first met Chishiya in your first year at medical school: you were studying to be a neurosurgeon while he was studying to be a general surgeon. You both met during a theoretical session about the brain and how to remove tumours from it.

You both sat rather close to one another in amidst the lecture hall. Every now and then, he'd glance at you but would immediately look away once your eyes landed on his figure.

He was infatuated with you from the moment he saw you: unlike the other students he'd met, you were the only one that seemed different. He really wanted to get to know you better which was not like him at all and it made him want to know you even more.

Fast forward a few weeks, Chishiya is still admiring you from afar when you finally spark up a conversation with him: 'Could i borrow your notes from the past few lectures?' you asked him in the middle of the lecture. He was surprised to hear such a request from you - he'd always assumed that you were one of the smartest in the class. Nonetheless, he still gave you his notes to copy off after the lecture without asking for anything in return.

The rest of your first year at medical school was spent with you both having small talk in the middle of lectures - it never exceeded past that but you both did get a little closer. Until, in your second year, you asked him out for coffee. He agreed:

The tedious lecture was finally over and you grudgingly dragged yourself out of the class. However, as you carried yourself, you noticed a familiar white-haired man walking leisurily in-front of you. A rather odd idea popped into your head and you jogged up to the man, asking him a question you never thought you'd ask.

'Say, Chishiya, would you want to go out for coffee?' His slow pace immediately came to a halt as he turned to look to you with a small smirk on his face. 'Are you asking me out?' he asked, in turn. 'I guess,' you sighed, averting your gaze. 'Sure, why not.'

Though, your relationship with Chishiya mainly remained platonic throughout your school and medical years, Chishiya's infatuation never really left him. You were the only person he trusted and he trusted you with so much personal information of his. He'd always turn to you for comfort. You were the only person he ever considered as a "friend."

That is, until you both were going to a cafe for brunch on a comfortable, tranquil afternoon when you both saw a weird light travelling in the sky. 'What do you think that is?' you asked as you pointed to it. 'Unsure. Come on, let's go,' he brushed it off as you both continued to walk to the cafe but once you both entered it, it was completely barren - no customers, no clerks, nothing, no one.

You and Chishiya had now unfortunately landed in The Borderlands.

Your first few days were filled with dread, you both had barely any idea what was going on. All you both knew were that you both were fighting for your lives.

A few weeks later, you and Chishiya found out about The Beach and were taken in as members with him being number 11 and you being number 12.

Your time at The Beach was rather boring and mind-numbing. Your days were filled with dread since during the days, everyone would be drinking and partying and they’d do the same at night too. It was almost as if the people had forgotten their lives were at risk. You despised every second of it.

Most of your time spent was with Chishiya or in your room, you barely left it unless you were hungry. You’d be accompanied by Chishiya everytime you left your quarters.

During the Ten of Hearts game, you mostly kept to yourself and observed the players descending into madness. Nearly everyone was running for their lives away from Niragi and the few people with weapons. Luckily for you, you didn’t get into much trouble.

Once The Beach was deemed uninhabitable due to the fire nearly demolishing everything, you couldn’t help but be glad. For the first time since your arrival, you finally felt glad that the hellish nightmare that was The Beach was finally gone.

Chishiya was the first ( and only ) person to pick up on your rather joyful mood, he chuckled at the sight of you watching the house burn down with a smile spread across your face.

‘Enjoying this a bit too much, aren’t you?’ He asked as he sat beside you. ‘I’ve always wanted to watch that place burn,’ you responded.

However, your happiness was short-lived since the moment the 10 of Hearts game was cleared, the next stage was announced. It started quite eventful as well with the King of Spades shooting everyone in sight.

You and Chishiya barely survived with your lives and you both got separated from your group. Things weren’t in your favour today.

Luckily, Chishiya had managed to find a safe space in the farther ends of Tokyo — away from The King; you both decided to spend the night there before figuring out what to do next:

The night was quiet, quieter than usual. You didn’t enroll Chishiya into meaningless conversations nor did he have a remark for any of your actions — it was unusually quiet and you were quite grateful for it.

Morning came faster than you wanted to. Since you both were still in excellent condition, ( aside from the fatigue due to the past few games ) you suggested that you both should try defeating some other games: ‘he’ll kill us eventually so in the mean time, why don’t we kill a few of his friends?’

This lead you both to join the Jack of Hearts game. Since Hearts was your speciality, you were pretty excited to see what this game had in store — you couldn’t mask your excitement at all.

Once the game started and the rules were explained, unlike everyone else in the prison, you were very calm. You’d made your way into the food area and began to munch on some cookies you found while Chishiya trailed behind.

‘You’re really calm for someone who’s in a life-or-death game,’ he said as his eyes scanned your figure. ‘Why should I be? After all, I’ve got you,’ you responded, not even bothering to look at him.

‘What if I lied? Or, what if I was The Jack?’ He implied. You chuckled at his futile attempts to make you panic, ‘I’ve known you for 7 years, I don’t think you would. Besides, if you were to kill me then you’d also lose your chance of survival here.’ ‘Fair enough.’

The game went on, everyone started to betray one another, only 6 people remained, including you.

The interval for the game had begun, you and Chishiya lounged in the food area, observing the remaining 4 players.

‘Who do you think the Jack is?’ you asked Chishiya, ‘this is most likely the final round so he might make his move now.’ ‘Enji,’ he simply replied, not giving you an explanation. You simply nodded in his direction since you understood why he suspected Enji.

Once The Jack revealed himself and was being interrogated by Banda and Oki. You both left the game venue, feeling pleased with your efforts.

In the process of going back to your hideout, you and Chishiya got attacked by The King of Spades which resulted in you getting fatally shot in your left leg.

You both barely made it out alive but atleast, Chishiya had gotten you back to the hideout, safe and sound.

Immediately after confirming that The King was gone, the first thing he did was tend to your wound. He searched the place for a rag or fabric but failed.

Ultimately, he wrapped leg with a make-shift bandage made from his shirt.

The entire day was then spent with him looking after you even though you reminded him multiple that you, too, were a licensed doctor like him. He didn't care. He was far too worried.

The following morning, Chishiya informed you that he would be leaving for another game - The King of Diamonds game, that is.

Though, it killed you both to leave eachother but you both knew it was the only way so reluctantly, you let him go.

You were propped up against a wall with pillows to comfort you - the bullet wound in your leg wasn't getting any better, you could barely walk.

Chishiya told you that he'll be leaving soon for the King of Diamonds game and you tried to make him stay but he didn't budge.

You then suggested that you join him in the game but he forced you to stay and rest since the details of the game were unknown and he didn't want you to struggle in it.

Though you were very against his plan on defeating The King, you still trusted him. You knew that he would be successful.

Painfully, you stood up with one hand attached to the wall behind you. Once Chishiya noticed this, he immediately rushed over to your side to help you; one of his hands were on your waist while the other was free.

Your faces were merely inches apart and on impulse, you closed the gap between you two with your lips connecting with his.

After a few moments, you both pulled apart, your cheeks were tinted pink but Chishiya seemed unfazed.

'Good luck,' you smiled as Chishiya let go of his grip on you and began to walk away, leaving you. Making you feel as though you had destroyed a 7 year long friendship.

The entire day was filled with unease. Your overthinking got the best of you which lead you to think that the unthinkable had happened to Chishiya.

Until, you heard movement coming from near the area surrounding your hideout. You took your make-shift cane ( which you had made in his absence ) and limped towards the source of the noise.

You were expecting the worse but it was just Chishiya. Safe and sound.

You rushed over to him, as fast as you could and enveloped him into the tightest hug ever as relief washed over you.

The Borderlands weren't a place where you thought you'd find your happiness but you were so glad for Chishiya.

[infernumequinomin]

"Kipperlily hates Riz because she's got a crush on him," this, "Kipperlily hates Riz because he somehow snubbed her," that... First of all, this boy imprinted instantly in a bully throwing him in a trash can thinking they could be friends, Riz wouldn't just forget someone he met in any sort of positive or negative way for zero reason. If they met, even if she didn't make a huge impression, Riz was SO desperate for companionship in Freshman year I don't think he'd have forgotten or ignored her.

I think a lot of people are forgetting the complexity of Riz's story as a poor kid who is of a "monster race" going to somewhere like Augefort through sheer working really fucking hard on the part of both him and his mom, and that they have explicitly in canon faced adversity both for their financial class and race. One of Riz's driving forces to do really well this year is so he can even GO to college. Sklonda EXPLICITLY lost her pension from YEARS of sleepless nights working as a detective and working her way up through the ranks this year (and I don't think it's something to overlook that Kipperlily's mom works as a county clerk and may have had some say there). I think Kipperlily may just be a graden variety privileged bigot who thinks some "gutter scum goblin shouldn't be in classes with normal people." And that a lot of her work with Jawbone has probably been unpacking these internalized biases.

Like, from the outside, the Bad Kids were ressurected by the principal the very first day of school, throwing the whole school into chaos and got DETENTION for it. Riz not only killed, but ATE the vice principal, after they defeated Kalvaxis! They were all on the verge of failing if they didn't complete their Sophmore year spring break project (it was 70% of their grade or some insane shit!), and while most of them may still have passed, Fig and Kristen DEFINITELY needed that credit and that is mentioned in the season, Adaine is insanely stressed about them completing their quest for "school credit".

If Kipperlily grew up rich and entitled, with all the biases about poor people that can grow (especially if her dad's real estate office owns Strong Arm Apts and she thinks of it as a slum, because it's kind of described as low income public housing lbr here) and saw that some lower class goblin was EATING PEOPLE after defeating them (you know, like a monster does, clearly not taking any time to understand his motivation OR culture), and getting preffered treatment because the principal just happened to LIKE HIM and his party (because they took the time to become closer to him over the years and Augefort clearly values students who will absolutely kick his teeth in bc adventurers are "insane violent psychopaths" citation: the Seven), and breezing through his classes without doing ANY of the work (because she doesn't SEE the work or the sleepless nights or all the stress he's taking on for others) it absolutely tracks for her to grow this huge chip on her shoulder about it and for it to reinforce these biases she may have already had about goblins and esp abt POOR goblins like Riz.

I don't think Riz did anything wrong. I think Kipperlily just has shit to fucking work thru in regards to how she views the kinds of people she doesn't know or has had no opportunity to associate with. Even among her party, they're all rich to middle class for the ones we know the class of. She's 17 and has a bunch of internalized biases, likely from her upper middle class upbringing, and major anger management issues. Idk it just makes sense to me. I met all kinds of girls like her in college who were type A to all shit who resented me for seeming to "have it easy" despite how hard my life should have been coming from a poorer background than them.

[qqueenofhades]

One of my favourite Sandman lore pieces I absorbed via tumblr is how, when Dream is having great sex, all the dreamers get to have glorious lustful dreams. Dream really is getting laid and making it everybody else's problem. Magnificent.

Dr. Robert Gadling is whistling an extremely cheery tune as he unlocks his office door -- which, if you had had the night he did, you would be whistling too, or possibly even clicking your heels like a demented leprechaun and wishing top o' the morning to everyone who passed. He's not doing that, but he's definitely feeling extremely good, and he sails inside, pulls up the blinds, boots up his computer, and prepares to answer some emails while he waits to see if anyone's actually going to come to office hours. It's always hit or miss, and then four days later they send a panicked question at midnight that they could have just, you know, asked. In person, in a timely fashion, when he definitely will not bite. He will never understand undergraduates.

Hob keeps the door propped open as usual, thus to project a warm and welcoming attitude, and after he's trudged through the first tranche of emails, he glances up to see one of his students loitering in the hall as if she's about to come in -- then, catching sight of him, turning scarlet and racing off at top speed. This is bewildering, since she's usually among the more talkative of the bunch, but Hob writes it off. At least until he sees several more students hovering in the hallway, who all vamoose the instant he sticks his head out to see if they need anything. This is decidedly peculiar, and he sighs deeply, grabs his mug, and heads down the hall to the faculty lounge, thus to raid it for a cup of coffee. Even more emails (and oh joy, expense reports) await, and he could use the fortification.

When he steps inside, his colleagues Bryan (Economics and Politics in Modern Germany) and Amita (Women, Caste, and Religious Practice in Precolonial India) both immediately turn bright red, clear their throats, and engage in a slightly too-loud conversation about the weather (which, given as this is London, is exactly what you think it is). Hob eyes them curiously, since while bizarre behavior is understandable from students, it is somewhat less so from lecturers. "Hey, guys," he says. "Anything up?"

"Er." Bryan is staring fixedly at the floor, while Amita has become unaccountably fascinated by the raindrops rolling down the window. "Nope. No. Everything normal, Rob. Entirely usual."

"Right," Hob says slowly, having the feeling of a man who has walked into a cave and found something large and furry that he should try not to disturb. "That's just me going, then. If I could sneak past you for the coffee pot, that'd be great -- "

He pours himself some coffee, departs in haste, and almost bowls over Philippa, Head of Department, in the hallway outside. They spring backward like a pair of opposing magnets, he manages to avoid dousing her in boiling hot coffee, and as he apologizes, notices that she is likewise determinedly not looking him in the eye and addressing a spot in midair over his head as she insists that it's fine. What the actual hell. Has everyone in Goldsmiths lost their bloody minds?

The insanely weird character of Hob's day, and the fact that even the clerk at Superdrug seems to cough unaccountably while ringing him up, remains a mystery until he gets home, finds an eager Dream Lord waiting for him already, and they get extremely distracted even before Hob can make dinner. Afterward, as they're lying half-clothed and decadent on the bed, Hob murmurs, "Well, glad you at least can stand to look at me, love. Had a very odd time of it today."

Dream's expression assumes a furtive, guilty quality. He rolls onto his back, head still pillowed luxuriantly on Hob's stomach, and stares up at the ceiling. "Ah," he says, after a very long pause. "About that."

(Two minutes of a deeply humiliating explanation later, Hob screeches, "YOU BLOODY DID WHAT?" Dream apologizes profusely and promises not to do it again. Hob does, of course, have classes and commitments for the rest of the semester, but hopefully it's not too late to change his name, once more fake his death, and move to Australia. Except, of course, they dreamed of him there too. Horrible.)

[cheynovak]

A Soldier's past

Soldier boy x F/Reader  

Warnings:  none I guess

Side note: English isn’t my first language.   

*Does not follow the boys timeline* 

--

Y/N is a museum clerk at the old Vought Museum on the edge of town. The only and old exhibition about Soldier Boy standing will end in a few weeks, Vought found a new purpose for the museum. Meaning the exhibition will end and Y/N will need to search for a new job. 

She takes one last tour around the museum before locking it down, seeing a man in the shadows.  

-- 

Y/N sighed as she gazed around the dimly lit museum hall.  

The old exhibition about soldier boy came to an end, marking the end of an era for the museum and for her. She had spent countless hours organizing artifacts, answering questions from curious visitors, and preserving the stories of brave men who had fought in the war.  

She started as a college student but became more and more invested in Soldier Boys past. Getting to know the man behind the mask. When she eventually got her degree Vought offered her a fulltime managers function. Which she accepted with pride.  

As the clock struck midnight, signalling the end of a long last day, Y/N decided to open the museum till now, hoping some last costumers would step in to say goodbye. But per usual, the rooms were empty part from one high school tour in the morning.  

She had known this was to happen, fewer and fewer people came to see him, schools went to see the new museum where all of Vought's greatest heroes were presented.  

With a heavy heart she takes one last tour of the exhibition before locking up for the night. The soft glow of the display lights cast yellow shadows on the walls, giving the room an otherworldly feel.  

She loved to walk around after closing time. As she walked among the relics of battles gone by, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of melancholy that hung heavy in the air. These artifacts told stories of courage and sacrifice, but they also held memories of loss and pain. 

Lost in thought, Y/N almost didn't notice the figure lurking in the shadows near the back of the hall. It was a man, tall and imposing, his features obscured by darkness. Instinctively, Y/N's hand went to the panic button on her belt, but something stopped her. 

"Hello? Sir... are you okay?" she called out, her voice echoing in the empty hall. 

The figure stirred, stepping forward into the light. 

He stood tall, his muscular frame evident even beneath the fabric of his green jacket. Broad shoulders tapered down to a trim waist, giving him an aura of strength and athleticism. 

The dim light of the exhibition hall cast shadows across his rugged face, accentuating the sharp angles of his jawline. His eyes, green, once bright with determination, now held a world of pain and regret, their intensity piercing through the darkness. 

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she recognized him, how could she not... It was Soldier Boy, the legendary hero whose exploits were immortalized in the exhibition. 

As their eyes met across the silent expanse of the exhibition hall.  

"I'm fine," he muttered, his voice heavy with sorrow. "Just needed a place to... forget." 

Y/N found herself drawn towards Soldier Boy, her footsteps echoing softly against the polished marble floors. With each step, the distance between them narrowed, until finally, they stood mere inches apart. "Forget what?" 

"Forget everything," he replied turning back to his statue, his voice barely above a whisper. "The battles, the bloodshed, the lives lost... the pain I've had over the years.”  

As his heavy words lingered in the stillness of the exhibition hall, a sudden interruption broke the fragile silence. The ringing of the phone echoed through the room, its shrill tones startling Y/N, her heart racing as she realized she had neglected her duties.  

"I'm sorry," she said softly, her voice tinged with regret. "I need to answer that. I should make sure the doors are locked too. Soldier Boy nodded in understanding, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features. "Of course," he replied, his tone resigned. 

Y/N offered him a reassuring smile saying he was welcome to stay as long as he needed, before hurrying towards the reception desk, her footsteps echoing against the polished marble floors again. With trembling hands, she picked up the receiver, her heart pounding in her chest. 

"Hello?" she said, her voice barely above a whisper. 

On the other end of the line, a familiar voice greeted her, its warmth a welcome balm to her nerves. It was her colleague, Sarah, calling to check in before the end of her last shift. 

Y/N quickly assured her that everything was fine, offering a brief explanation for her delayed response. After confirming that the doors were securely locked and the museum was empty, she bid Sarah farewell. 

As she hung up the phone, Y/N felt a sense of relief wash over her. With the doors secured and her duties fulfilled, she could finally devote her full attention to Soldier Boy, the mysterious stranger who had stumbled into her life on this fateful night 

Y/N's heart skipped a beat with worry as she returned to the exhibition hall, only to find it empty. Panic in her mind, hoping he didn’t leave, as she scanned the dimly lit room, searching for any sign of him, her eyes darting from one shadowy corner to the next. And then, amidst the flickering glow of the display lights, she saw him. 

Soldier Boy stood before a massive painting, his gaze fixed upon the canvas with a mixture of reverence and regret. The painting, his team, Payback, frozen in time like ghosts from another era. 

Y/N approached cautiously, her heart heavy with concern for the troubled hero. She could sense the weight of his memories pressing down upon him, threatening to consume him in their relentless grip. 

"Soldier Boy," she called out softly, her voice a gentle whisper in the stillness of the night. Y/N stepped closer, her hand reaching out instinctively to touch his arm. "Are you alright?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine concern. 

“Hm” was all he reacted, she saw his emotions in his eyes. Piercing at the painting. "What happened in 1983?" She asked him. 

Soldier Boy's gaze flickered with a mixture of emotions as he turned to face her. There was a haunted look in his eyes, a sadness that seemed to stretch on for eternity. Anger blazing through those beautiful green eyes.  

“These fuckers betrayed me. Vought betrayed me. Made me a fucking lap rat for the Russians. After all I did for those fuckers.” He turned back at the painting. She could see the pain etched into every line of his face, the weight of his regrets pressing down upon him like a heavy burden. 

"Is that why you're here?" she asked gently, her voice filled with compassion. "To confront the ghosts of your past?" Soldier Boy nodded solemnly, his gaze still on the painting of his team. "I thought coming here would help me find closure," he admitted. 

Y/N reached out a comforting hand, her fingers brushing against his arm. "Sometimes, confronting our past is the only way to find peace," she offered softly.  

“What are you doing here?” He asks stern. Y/N took a moment to gather her thoughts before responding, her gaze meeting Soldier Boy's. She gestured towards the surrounding exhibition hall, the artifacts and relics of wars long past serving as a testament to her words. 

"This museum holds a special place in my heart," she continued, her tone turning more serious. "It's a sanctuary of sorts, a place where the echoes of history can still be heard if you listen closely enough." 

He rolls his eyes. “This are pieces of shit and dirt. Half of it isn’t even real.” His words made her feel a sting in her chest, a sense of pride swelling within her. "I like to think it is of import," she replied, her smile widening.  

"Every artifact, every story... they all have a part to play in shaping our understanding of the world and our place in it." “Is that why they are shutting it down.” It wasn’t even a question. 

"Let me give you a grand tour," Y/N offered with a warm smile, gesturing toward the museum's exhibits. Soldier Boy chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "I know my history, doll," he replied, a touch of playful arrogance in his tone. 

Y/N arched an eyebrow, her lips curving into a teasing grin. "Fine then, let me tell you what I see when I tell your story," she countered, her voice tinged with a challenge. 

And so, they went on a journey through time, with Y/N serving as the guide and Soldier Boy as the reluctant but intrigued traveller. With each artifact they encountered and every story they uncovered, Y/N wove a tapestry of Soldier Boy's past, painting a vivid portrait of his journey through the ages. 

She spoke of his triumphs and his failures, his moments of heroism and his moments of weakness. She delved into the depths of his soul, exploring the complexities of his character and the struggles he faced along the way. 

As they walked, Soldier Boy listened intently, his gaze fixed upon Y/N with a newfound sense of appreciation. He found himself increasingly captivated by Y/N's passion for this place. 

 He saw himself reflected in her words, not just as a larger-than-life hero, but as a flawed and vulnerable human being searching for meaning in a world fraught with uncertainty. 

Her enthusiasm was infectious, igniting a spark within him that he hadn't felt in years. He watched in awe as she spoke, her eyes alight with excitement. It was as if she breathed life into the artifacts.  

In that moment, amidst the hallowed halls of history, Soldier Boy found himself drawn to Y/N in a way he hadn't expected. Her passion, her knowledge, her unwavering dedication, it all spoke to something deep within him, stirring feelings he hadn't dared to acknowledge. 

She knew him without knowing him. The real him, and yet isn’t scared. 

And as the tour drew to a close, Y/N turned to Soldier Boy with a smile, her eyes alight with excitement. "So, what do you think?" she asked, a note of anticipation in her voice. 

Soldier Boy chuckled softly, attempting to lighten the mood with a playful remark. "Well, I must admit, you certainly know your stuff," he teased, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "You are either a nerd or some sort of paid stalker, creepy.” 

His attempt at humour masked a deeper truth, he was afraid to let Y/N see just how much he had enjoyed listening to her. The vulnerability of opening up to someone, his emotions behind a facade of strength and stoicism. 

But as he watched Y/N's smile falter ever so slightly, a pang of regret pierced through his jest. He realized that his attempt at humour had fallen flat, and he cursed himself for his lack of tact.   

“I’m sorry. I asked too much of your time. I’ll leave you to it.” She said before making her way back to the front desk. He watched walking away.  

Soldier Boy's footsteps echoed softly in the museum as he made his way to the front desk where Y/N stood, her gaze still fixed on the ground with a hint of disappointment. 

Clearing his throat, Soldier Boy took a deep breath to steady his nerves before speaking. "I'm sorry," he began, his voice gentle yet filled with sincerity. "I didn't mean to make you feel bad.” 

Y/N looked up, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. "You don't need to apologize," she replied softly. "I understand."  

“I realize I never asked for your name." He said still trying to meet her eye.  

Y/N's lips curved into a small smile, touched by his gesture. "It's Y/N," she answered, her voice warm. "Y/N," Soldier Boy repeated, the name rolling off his tongue like a whispered promise. "Thank you, Y/N, for everything. " 

He hung over the desk. “I’m Ben.” “I know” she said, now looking in his green eyes. 

With one last smile, Soldier Boy turned to leave but decided not to. Turning back towards Y/N, who still stood behind the front desk, he found himself unable to walk away just yet. The thought of leaving without knowing when he might see her again felt like a missed opportunity he couldn't bear. 

"What are you doing tomorrow night?" he found himself asking, the words tumbling out before he could fully process them. Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, a hint of curiosity flickering in her gaze. "Um, nothing in particular," she replied, a touch of uncertainty “It’s my last night here.” 

"Would you...” A nervous energy coursed through Soldier Boy's veins as he searched for the right words to say. “Like to grab dinner with me? 

Her eyes grew wide “Me?” He nodded slow. “You don’t have to... I mean you don’t own me or need to make up or something.” Mischief dancing in his eyes as he looked at her with a playful grin. His gaze lingered on her, taking in every detail from the way her hair fell to her soft plump lips. 

"I love your stories, doll," he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “I want to hear more.” Y/N couldn't help but blush at the compliment, feeling a warmth spread through her cheeks. 

“So, dinner it is?” He asks. 

“I’d love to.”  

-- 

What do you think... Do we need to continue this story? Or is the idea of having a date with Soldier boy enough?  

[sleekervae]

New York Romantic .4

Masterlist

pairing: Tom Blyth x ballerina!oc

summary: tom finds noelle locked out of her apartment

word count: 5849

taglist: @watercolorskyy @carolanns-world @alana4610

warnings: alcohol consumption

Winter break was just around the corner, the days were becoming shorter but the assignments were getting longer. It was the final crunch before the holiday season and everybody -- even the professors -- were feeling the strain of long hours, chilled nights and the impending threat of black ice.

"One! And two! Up! Up! Steven! Lift your toes higher! You're a scorpion!" Stanis' voice boomed across the studio, a stark contrast to the gentle, peppy piano melody playing on the loudspeaker. He watched each of his dancers with a swift eagle eye, always the first to call out when someone was sloppy or off balance.

"Very good," he nodded as the music came to a close, turning then to another student in the second row, "Amber! Not so good. Are you okay?"

Amber, a petite young ginger, nodded sheepishly behind Noelle, "I was off balance," she admitted.

Stanis nodded, "Thank you... for stating the truth," he mumbled at the end, his accent someone becoming thicker the more he lowered his voice. He glanced at his wrist watch, then to the evening display just outside the window, "Let's call it a day, here! Go home! Ice your legs! Relax! We'll take it from the top tomorrow!"

The students had scattered before he could even finish, rushing to their lockers to grab their things and change for the frigid weather outside.

Noelle left with Iseul, the latter furiously texting on her phone as they walked over to their lockers, "How're you doing with the arts and poly paper?" she asked.

"Slowly," Noelle admitted, "How about you?"

"Like rubbing a cheese grater over my forehead," Iseul shrugged back, "It's all theoretical, philosophical nonsense I was hoping to leave behind in high school,"

Noelle cocked a brow, "You studied philosophy in high school?" she asked.

"To my chagrin, yes," Iseul simpered, "Take a note from me: don't send your kids to private school,"

"Noted," Noelle nodded, "Who're you texting?"

"Josh from modern. He's having a party next week," Iseul replied.

"After finals?"

"Mmhm. You wanna come with me?"

"What night?"

"Friday,"

Noelle grimaced, "We have showcase rehearsals til' six,"

"Yeah, but we also need a reason to let off some steam..." Iseul trailed off, feigning a pout her way, "Bianca will come,"

"I'll ask her later," they came to Noelle's locker, "Text me the details, I'll let you know,"

Iseul shrugged, walking backwards to her own locker, "Alrighty. Get home safe, Elles!"

"See ya tomorrow!" Noelle opened her locker and pulled out her bag, pulling out her sneakers, her jacket, digging through her purse for her transit card until she came to a harrowing realization.

She was missing her house key...

Tom had debated back and forth on going home for the holidays, it would be the first time he'd spend Christmas without his family and while he knew he would miss them terribly, the money was too much to splurge on -- on top of all his other expenses. He had finally found a job at least, a desk clerk at the library on campus. It paid minimum wage and he worked to the extent of his student visa, but earning some money was definitely better than having none. Plus it gave him time to focus on his own homework. The funds his mum had wired over definitely softened the buffer in his expenses.

He pulled his wool scarf tighter around his neck, his gloves doing little to ward off the frigid winds that had swept over New York. Not even crammed in a subway car with total strangers could warm him up. The weather had reported threats of snow but so far Mother Nature was holding out on them.

Doris had her feet propped up on her desk and a bowl of fresh popcorn in her lap when Tom ducked inside. Her eyes wide behind her glasses as she checked the time; 7:43pm.

"Hi Doris!"

"Well, well! You're home late!" she chided, a small smile playing at her lips, "What was her name?"

Tom chuckled back, approaching the desk, "Wasn't that kind of night. I was working," he replied.

"Oooh! That's right! I forgot you're a part of the system now!" she awed, "Well, don't let them push you over! If they give you any trouble you send them my way!" she pointed a bony, French manicured finger at him.

"No problem," Tom grinned back, "What's the plot tonight?" he pointed to her computer.

Doris enthusiastically sat up in her seat, passing him the bowl of popcorn, "Oh! It's Days of Our Lives! Stefano gave Marlena mind-altering drugs while she was sleeping, and he whisked her away into this fantasy romance world. But she's so vulnerable in this state she becomes possessed by the devil himself!" she whispered at the end.

Tom cocked a brow, too amused by her mannerisms to point out how terrible a flop that plot line was. He nodded nevertheless.

"Sounds interesting," he chuckled.

Doris rolled her eyes, "Oh, don't shit with me. It's completely ridiculous I know," she chided back.

"Don't spoil it for me, yeah?"

"In your dreams, buster," she smirked back, "Hey -- what was that show your dad worked on?"

"Emmerdale,"

"Was it any good?"

"According to The Telegraph, yeah," he nodded.

Doris leaned over her keyboard, "Well, don't tell nobody, but my husband's second cousin's nephew just introduced me to pirating on these special websites. He's gonna set up a VPN for me -- whatever that is," she whispered, "I'm gonna give it a go!"

Tom simpered with amusement, "That's great. Lemme' know what you think," he started backing off, "I'm assuming the elevator's still down?"

Doris nodded with an exaggerated sigh, "When my brother's wife's cousin gets a hold of her son in law, they're gonna give me a discount to get it fixed. He's an electrician," she replied, "For now, you just gotta leg it,"

"No worries. Take care, Doris!" and he started for the stairs.

"Oh! Tom!" she called him back before he disappeared, "You wanna check in on that dancer across the hall from you? She lost her key today and who knows what time her roommate's getting home,"

Tom's brows furrowed, his curiosity simmering, "Noelle or Bianca?" he asked.

"Noelle. Poor thing was so dejected when she came in," she shook her head, "I offered her a seat to wait here but she's just sitting in the hallway,"

"Don't you have a spare key?" he asked.

She scoffed back, rolling her eyes, "If my husband wasn't so cheap, yes. But now I gotta get a new key made for her -- because that's not gonna cost him less,"

Tom nodded sympathetically, "No problem. I'll see you later,"

He hopped his way up the stairs, the textbooks in his bag weighing down on his shoulder but the pep in his step was surprisingly fresh. And sure enough, he found Noelle sitting in front of her door. Her eyes were closed, her bag a folded mess beside her and her phone clutched tightly in her hand. Tom was worried she may've been a sleep, but as he approached closer she opened one eye, sitting up and stretching when she saw him.

"Oh, hey!" she greeted groggily.

"Hi," Tom crouched down before her, and amused smile on his lips, "Did I wake you?"

"No, I was just resting my eyes,"

"I see," he nodded, "I've heard you had a day,"

She scoffed, shaking her head, "You don't know the half of it,"

He simpered, "What happened?"

"I don't know!" she shrugged listlessly, "I locked the door when I left this morning. Somewhere between 7am and 6:45pm I lost my key along the way,"

His brows raised, "You've been out here for nearly an hour?" he nearly exclaimed.

Noelle nodded, "More like forty-five minutes,"

"Where's Bianca?"

"Rehearsing for our Christmas showcase. I can't disturb her right now," she replied, "It's okay, I've just been watching shit on Youtube,"

He smiled sympathetically, standing up straight, "Well, I'm here now. So you can hide out with me until she gets back," he said.

Noelle smiled sheepishly, feeling her cheeks burn as his gaze bore into her, "Oh, don't worry about it. Bianca'll be home soon," she assured him.

"Forty five minutes is already too long," he reasoned, "I'll feel better anyway knowing you're not out here by yourself,"

She smirked back, "Aww, are you worried about me, Tom?" she teased.

He tried so hard not to smile, rolling his eyes in an attempt to cover it up. So he extended his hand to her, "I'm an Aquarius; a smart person told me we're stubborn about this stuff,"

Noelle rolled her eyes, though nevertheless she held her hand up for him to grab. Tom pulled her to her feet, grunting as the force shoved his back into the wall and Noelle into his chest. They paused momentarily, gazes fixed in a time lock, her free hand suddenly burning against the wool covering his chest. Bashfulness pulled at their lips as Noelle stepped away and dusted herself off while Tom adjusted his jumper and coat.

"Sorry about that," she chuckled.

"No! It's okay!" he assured her, "Are you okay?"

"I'm great," she picked up her bag, silently hoping he wouldn't pick off the pink tinging her cheeks, "After you,"

They stepped inside his loft, the room a little messier than what Tom would've liked but Noelle didn't seem to mind as she kicked her shoes off and sunk back into the couch, letting out an exasperated, heavy sigh. Tom laughed to himself as he peeled off his coat, to which Noelle pouted back.

"I can hear you, ya know," she called, mock accusation slipping from her tongue, "I'm glad my suffering is so entertaining for you!"

"My sincerest apologies," he simpered.

"Is Sunny here?" she asked, looking around the space curiously.

Tom shook his head, "He's out at a symposium tonight, some fancy composer I've never heard of. He'll be back in a bit. Are you hungry?"

"I could eat," she nodded, "What's cooking, Gordon Ramsay?"

Tom sauntered over to the fridge, swinging the door open as his eyes glazed over leftovers, and whatever sparse vegetables and random containers they had in there. All Sunny really had was his labelled orange juice, a six pack of fruit yogurt and some carrots -- while Tom barely had anything of his own in there. He really needed to go shopping.

"Alright, we're ordering in," he decided, coming to sit on the couch beside her, smiling coyly at her, "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone,"

"How kind," she tittered, her head falling back against the cushion, "Whatever you feel like, I'm not picky,"

"... Sushi?"

"Love it,"

Forty minutes later they were both situated on the couch, Tom's laptop set up in front of them as BoJack Horseman played out on Netflix. They could hear the rain pattering against the window, the walls humming as the heat had kicked into high gear and in the moment the air held a nice, cozy warmth. The duo sat beside each other, his legs stretched out across the floor while she curled hers up close to her chest, shoulders just inches away from each other as they ate their dinner.

"So, what're you doing for Christmas?" she asked over the commotion from the show, "You going home?"

Tom shook his head, "Can't, I waited too long to book and the prices are ridiculous," he replied.

"Shit, I'm so sorry," she awed.

"Don't be," he shrugged back, "I'm just gonna stay here,"

She sat up abruptly, "Not by yourself, are you?"

"Yeah. Sunny's going home for a week. It's alright, though," he assured with a swift nod, "Doris was offering me Christmas dinner at her place -- with her husband, her second cousin's nephew, her aunt twice removed or something..."

Noelle chuckled softly, "Are you gonna' go?" she asked curiously.

"I don't know. I might just fake sick to get out of it," he admitted sheepishly, "What about you? You going back to Maine?"

"No, my family are coming down. My uncle got a bonus at work so they're staying at the Ritz," she flourished her hand in the air, feigning an expression of shock and awe.

Tom laughed softly, "Sounds lovely,"

"Right? My aunt's all excited," she popped an avocado roll into her mouth.

"Are you gonna' stay with them?"

"Probably. But they're here just for a week," she glanced back at him, "I'll be hanging around though, if you wanna go hang out here and there?"

Tom was flattered, a little taken aback, but he considered the option. Spending any more time with Noelle was surely a plus no matter the occasion, though on the other hand she didn't want to take her away from her family.

"Oh, I don't -- I don't wanna impose on your visit like that," he replied.

"It wouldn't be imposing," Noelle shrugged back, "I just... I don't like seeing anybody alone during the holidays... and you're kinda cool to be around, so..." she glanced aside sheepishly.

He cocked a brow, "Noelle Berendina thinks I'm cool? Gosh, my mum's never gonna believe me!" he gawked.

Noelle rolled her eyes, slapping his arm gently, "Yeah, you are cool, you friggin' dork! And anyone who says otherwise has to fight me!"

He smirked back at her, "You get locked out of your own apartment... but I'm the dork?" he chuckled.

She feigned a pout, crossing her arms like a child and sinking back in the couch cushions, "I'm not saying you're wrong... but you're so mean," she grumbled under her breath.

"Oh, you wanna see mean, do you?" he leaned over and snatched a yam roll from her box, popping it into his mouth with a shit-eating grin.

Noelle gasped dramatically, her hand gripping her chest, "You son of bitch! How dare you!" she gaped, "I'm gonna call up your mom,"

"So you're a tattletale now?" he quipped.

"Only when someone needs to be tattled on," she reached over and took one of his salmon rolls for revenge.

He feigned his own insult, shaking his head mockingly at her while his teeth clenched down on his inner lip, trying not to laugh, "Okay, okay, if I think about your offer can we call it a truce?"

"Okay, deal. Truce," she offered him her hand, giggling bashfully as he shook on it with her, "Anyway, how are you doing with finals?"

"Alright, actually," he shrugged, "I got a paper due, we're performing monologues, and we're having a small improv show on Friday,"

"Oh really?" she shuffled closer, "You do much improv?"

"I'm not too bad," he admitted, "It took a long time for me to be okay with looking insane in front of people,"

"Well, isn't that a major part of being an actor? You can't be the one-dimensional cool guy all the time -- ya know, unless you're Ryan Gosling," she replied.

"Exactly," he nodded, "The only one I'm kind of worried about is Jordan,"

"Ichabod Crane?" she smirked, "Stanis didn't like his cool-guy-with-back-against-the-wall attitude,"

Tom snickered, "He was just doing it to impress the other girls,"

"Really? You could've fooled me!" she gawked sarcastically, "He's only one in a long line of cool guys who tried to play it off in dance class,"

"I promise, he's a nice guy," he assured her, "He's just... I don't know,"

Noelle gave an endearing smile, "Well anyway, if I go to a performance, I'm more likely to go for you than for him anyway," she replied.

A warmth swelled in his chest, and Tom pondered his next words carefully before he spoke, "I know you have rehearsals Fridays, but would you like to come to the show?" he asked.

Noelle cocked a brow, mulling it over in her head. On her baser instincts she wanted to shout an enthusiastic 'hell yea!', but her own showcase was approaching quickly.

"Hmm, what time does it start?"

"Six, in the McCallum Pavilion,"

She nodded slowly, "I finish at six usually, but if I sprint I could make it a little after -- if they accept late entries," she replied, "I'm also supposed to go to this party after... but -- would you be down to come with?"

Tom was a little unsure at first, he was still shy, didn't know many people, and if a lot of these people were dancers then they may have been wondering why he was there.

Though it was as if Noelle could read his mind, "There's gonna be some other acting and music students there, not just dancers," she assured him.

"Alright," he nodded, "So, you come to the improv show and I come to the party with you after?"

She shrugged lithely, "Well, if you wanna' make it sound so transactional..." she feigned an eye roll.

Tom shook his head, "I didn't --" but he stopped when he saw her coy smirk. Rolling his eyes he nudged her, his elbow knocking gently into her side, "Shut up,"

"Make me," she shot back snidely.

He pondered it for a moment -- just a moment -- how close she was, her cocky attitude dripping off her tongue and her dark brown eyes goading him into mischief. His own eyes averted to her lips, it was only for a second, but he thought about how soft she might feel, how she may taste of soy sauce and ginger, and how quickly he should shut her up so easily.

But he didn't, he wouldn't dare step over that boundary so hastily. So his only retaliation was to steal another one of her sushi rolls.

Time became a lesser construct as the night went on. Sunny had come home around nine-thirty, exhausted and hungry as he kicked off his shoes. He didn't give a second glance to the mismatched laced sneakers at the door, only stopping when he sat the back of Tom's head peaking from behind the couch. Curled up beside him was Noelle, the both of them fast asleep in front of the rolling credits for BoJack Horseman.

Friday night rolled around sooner than many students would've liked. So many projects were due, so many deadlines were crossed and the majority of students were burning at the end of their candle.

The first year drama students had their first showcase tonight; an improv show that was only really open to family and friends. The McCallum Pavilion was a small studio space not often looked upon in conjunction with the rest of the campus, not even Tom knew of its existence until he was brought in for rehearsals. It was a relatively large space, dark indigo walls and dark, heavy hanging curtains that shrouded a risen platform. There was a single spotlight that was operated by a crew member and six rows of ten chairs set up before the platform.

By ten to six the chairs were already being filled, handfuls of faces that Tom didn't know as he peaked out from behind the curtain. The only face he could recognize was Sunny, his visage murky between passing bodies but he looked enthusiastic nonetheless. He kept his bag on the empty chair beside him and told people he was saving the spot for a friend.

"Tom!" his instructor hissed from behind, drawing him back from the curtain by his arm, "What're you doing over here? They're running warmups, we're on in ten minutes!"

"Sorry! I'm going!" he nearly tripped over himself as he dashed for the green room.

Simultaneously, Noelle had just stuffed her dance bag into her locker (ensuring her new key was safely tucked inside) before taking off in a sprint down the hallway. She had begged and bartered with Stanis all week to let her go early today, and after some pushing and kissing ass he eventually agreed. Bianca and Iseul were of course perplexed when she dashed out of the studio.

The entirety of the campus could be walked in about twenty minutes one way, but it was already five-to-six and she still had little idea where the McCallum Pavilion was. But her best start was the drama department, and from there she would have to figure it out.

Sure enough at the stroke of six the lights came down and the spotlight focused in on the stage. The audience gave a roaring applause as Tom's instructor, Charles, took to the stage. A portly older gentleman, he kept his hands clasped behind his back, smiling gleefully at the crowd through his thin-rimmed glasses.

"Thank you everyone! Thank you! I appreciate you all coming out tonight to support our first years. They've been working incredibly hard all semester to bring you this show, the first of many that they will be performing for a live audience," he was very soft spoken, though his voice carried a great range all the way to the back of the studio, "Our first performance I lovingly refer to as 'Change'. We're going to have two performers come up, an audience member gives them a scenario they have to act out. And when they hear 'Change!', they have to change the scenario on the fly. Please note, the audience is not allowed to shout at the actors, we have a designated 'change' person,"

Noelle had followed the campus map on her phone as best as she could, finally meandering her way down an obscure hallway and sure enough there was a sandwich board outside the door advertising for the show.

Tom and another student, Marcelle, were the first ones selected to come up on the stage. The audience cheered as they came under the spotlight, and Tom couldn't help but wipe his palms on the back of his pants, hoping his nerves wouldn't betray him.

He didn't hear the click of the door opening, nor did he see Noelle slip into the crowd and find her place next to Sunny. Sunny lit up as soon as he saw her and moved his bag.

"Hey,"

"Hi," they both whispered, "Did I miss anything?" she asked.

"You're just in time, they're starting," he replied.

An audience member was selected and Tom and Marcelle were given the scenario: two people in an old folks home trying to watch TV. Marcelle took a seat in the pre-positioned chair and Tom hunched his back. He started waddling over to Marcelle, his hand positioned as though he had a remote in his hand and his eyes were squinting.

"Marcelle?"

"Yes?"

"Marcelle, can you hear me!?" he squawked.

Marcelle was slightly hunched in her own chair, "Yes, I can hear you Tom!" she boomed back.

Tom turned to the audience, pointing his invisible remote at them, "I'm trying to change the channel on the television!"

"It's not on, Tom!" she snapped, agitation in her voice.

Then a voice behind the curtain shouted, "Change!" and Marcelle's dialogue switched.

"It's never been on, Tom!"

"Change!"

"It's a microwave!" and the crowd began to laugh.

Tom's face twisted in anguish, "It's a microwa- oh! Oh the crows feet is getting to me now!" he cried, shuffling back and forth like an old man, "I don't know left from right!"

"Change!"

"I don't know right from left!"

"Change!"

"I don't know to from fro!"

"Change!"

"I don't know if I have a fro!" and they paused as the audience laughed some more. Noelle and Sunny were plenty amused already at the debauchery on stage.

"You're bald!" Marcelle shouted back at him, obviously go for a bit, "For goodness sake, Tom! I've gotta find myself a new roommate! I'm making a complaint!" and she went to get up from her seat.

"Change!"

And she sat down again, "I'm gonna sit right here, and hope that you die quickly!"

Tom gasped in horror, bemusing the crowd even more, "Marcelle, why are you always so mean to me!?" he cried.

"Change!"

"Why're you always so lovely to me?" and he perked up immediately.

"Change!"

And he sauntered over to where Marcelle was sitting, "I would like you to tell me a story," and he looked to the audience, "About me when I was younger. What was I like before I was bald?" on his last word his gaze fixed on Sunny, and then Noelle right beside him. He swallowed a nervous chuckle, unable to help but grin like a fool nonetheless.

Marcelle sighed heavily, slouching in her chair and dropping her head back before he stared up at Tom, "You were a brave man --!"

"Change!"

"You were a coward!"

"Change!"

"You were an electrician!"

"Change!"

"You were a pilot!"

"Change!"

"You were a storm trooper!" Tom had his hands on his hips, nodding as he looked quite pleased with that answer. Noelle couldn't help but laugh along with the crowd, drawn in by Tom's charisma and pairing unhinged behaviour.

"Change!"

Marcelle huffed, "You were the type of man who leaves his wife at the altar!" and the audience let out a round of hissing and ooohs. At that Tom's demeanour changed, picking at threads of shame and dismay. Though he was doing everything in his power not to laugh.

"Jesus Christ!"

"Change!"

"Son of a bitch!"

"Change!"

"Lovely biscuit!"

"Change!"

"My mother!" he suddenly shouted, his voice breaking towards the end. Marcelle bit her lip as not to laugh as well.

"What about your mother?" she asked.

Tom turned back to her, "I can see --"

"Change!"

And he jumped back, waving his arms as he looked around, "Oh my gosh! I can't see!"

"Change!"

And he straightened his posture, "H-How dare you remind me of that!" he shouted at Marcelle.

Marcelle came forward in her seat, "She was my sister!" she shouted back, "She never got over it!"

"But you're my wife, Marcelle!" he exclaimed.

"And she never forgave me!"

"Change!"

"She forgave me quite quickly!"

At that Charles came out from behind the curtain, closing the scene. Tom and Marcelle took a bow and were ushered off the stage to make room for the next pair. The scene was no more than under two minutes but Noelle was plenty entertained. She was captivated, utterly amused, and pleasantly surprised by Tom's performance. She hadn't imagined he could be so dramatic and comically absurd for the life of her.

As the curtains fell on the captivating improv show, the buzz of excitement lingered in the air. People spilled out, chatter filled with laughter and lingering anticipation. Tom had linked up with Noelle and Sunny afterwards, the both of them singing his praises.

By the time eight o'clock had rolled around, Tom, Noelle, and Sunny had made it across town to the house party. Josh, a second year from modern contemporary, was a close enough acquaintance that he didn't bat an eye when Noelle came strolling in with her friends.. Within the confines were ten or twelve other kids, all within their age. Some of them Tom recognized as the other ballerinas, some he knew from his own department. The house smelled distinctively of air freshener and hot food, pizza from down the street no doubt. There was a stereo somewhere blasting hits off of Billboard's Top 100.

"Hey!" Bianca's voice suddenly boomed, "You made it!" the blonde ballerina threw her arms around Noelle, nearly falling into her in fact as her socks slipped on the varnished hardwood. Noelle chuckled, though she could smell the bitter tang of vodka and ale coming off her breath already.

"Yep. I told you," Noelle said, pulling her upright on her feet, "B, what time did you start drinking?"

"Right when I got here,"

"And that was...?"

"Oh, about six-thirty," she replied with a drunken giggle.

"And you couldn't wait for me?" she gawked back.

Bianca ignored her, her hazy focus then zeroing on the boys behind her, "Oh my gosh! Tom, you came!" she suddenly had her arms around him in a tight hug, it was the most attention she had paid to him in the time they'd known each other.

"Hi Bianca!" he chuckled, a little taken aback at first.

"And Sunjit, too!" she then went into hug Sunny, "You never come to these things!"

Sunny smiled bashfully, shrugging his shoulders. Truth be told, he didn't think he'd really fit in with the dancers and actors, "... I just figured, it's the end of the term, so..."

Bianca's face lit up, "Then, we have to get you a drink. Come on!" she took his hand and lead him off in another direction. Tom and Noelle glanced at each other, he had a bewildered grin on his face while she was shaking her head.

"That's the friendliest she's ever been with me!" he awed.

She chuckled sheepishly, "Her demeanour usually melts with some vodka,"

Regardless of Bianca's lightweight mannerisms, the kids dispersed through the party, slowly getting to mingle and chat with the other kids. Tom had gotten acquainted with a few more students from different departments, he had made the acquaintance of one particular musician, Connie, a saxophone major in her third year. However, he found his gaze kept shifting, always searching out for Noelle's face in the crowd.

He eventually spotted her on the couch, engrossed in conversation with another guy. He had seen him around a few times, another dancer but he wasn't a ballet major. He could see how she laughed, how her shoulders bounced and her eyes fluttered, so entertained by whatever joke the other guy was telling her. Tom didn't like feeling jealous, he knew he had no right to be so but he couldn't help himself. Resent was bubbling in his gut, on the skim of it was insecurity because this guy was quite attractive. There was an aura of self-assurance surrounding him that Tom longed to possess. He aspired to captivate and amuse Noelle just as effortlessly as this person did.

"Hey, Tom," Iseul suddenly appeared from behind him, "You okay?"

Tom glanced at her, nodding swiftly, "Yeah, yeah, I'm good,"

Iseul's gaze fixed on Noelle and the other boy, and her face fell, "That's Daniel. He's a hip hop dancer, but the professors call him 'slack-ass'," she mumbled, "Honestly... I think Noelle could do way better..." at that she turned her gaze back to Tom, a coy smile teasing at her lips.

At one point a game of truth or dare had broken out, silly, juvenile questions were asked and immature, embarrassing dares were completed. When Tom was put on the spot, he should have known better than to trust Josh, the host, and his precarious questions.

“You’ve got to be kidding!” Josh practically howled with laughter, doubling over himself and nearly falling off the couch with laughter. Iseul glowered, about to tell him off but Bianca beat her to it.

“Shut up, Josh. It’s not that big of a deal,”

Josh sat up straight, looking down at Bianca as she sat on the floor. He wiped the tears from his eyes, his laughter finally dying down, “Hey, I’m your senior – you gotta’ talk to me with a bit more respect,” he prodded teasingly, but Noelle only rolled her eyes, her previous lighthearted spirit vanishing upon Josh's insensitive comment.

Her tone was excitingly stern, but not rude, “Yeah? I’ll show more respect when you show more respect to your juniors...”

Iseul laughed, shaking off the flurry of red in her cheeks, “Don’t worry about me, B. I don’t think I can take Josh very seriously, not when I highly doubt he’d even know how to make me or any other girl cum,”

The circle of friends in the basement erupted into comical ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’.

“Ouch!” one of Josh's friends said, leaning across the floor to high-five her.

Josh stuttered, failing at serving a good comeback, “It’s okay, Josh,” Noelle laughed, her sympathetic tone condescending, “maybe there’s a tutorial online,”

“I know how to make a girl cum!” he snapped. Everyone just laughed, even Tom and Sunny, ignoring him and carrying on with the game.

"Iseul, it's your turn," another girl, Monica, reminded them.

Iseul's dark eyes flitted across the bleary faces of her friends. In that moment she singled out Tom, partly because he had gone unnoticed by others and partly because she was feeling mischievous. "Tom, truth or dare?"

"Truth," he answered confidently, to which another kid jeered at him.

"Hey, boring! You chose truth last round, man!" he pointed out.

"So what?" Sunny asked from the couch, squished between Iseul and another music student, "Let him do what he wants,"

Tom's primary instincts urged him to stick with the truth. However, he found himself contemplating that Iseul was a genuine sweetheart — how bad could her dare really have been?

"No, it's alright," he assured Sunny, turning back to Iseul, "Let's do dare," he tried to ignore Noelle's coy smile from his left periphery.

"I dare you to kiss Noelle," nope, he was very, very wrong.

"W-What?" he stuttered.

"What?" Noelle was suddenly attentive; her eyes widened, her lips stiffened with a mix of surprise and hesitation.

“With tongue, and for 10 seconds,” she added. In that moment, Tom took back every kind word and thought he ever had for Iseul.

“Wait, wait, don’t I get a say in this?” Noelle asked, her pretty gaze nearly overwhelming as she turned to Tom. 

Josh began to make chicken noises, flapping his arms and bopping his head. Meanwhile Bianca was trying desperately to hide her giggles behind her solo cup.

"Either you do the dare, or you take a shot," Iseul reminded him

Tom looked back at Noelle, who was still looking at him. Instead of arguing with Iseul and letting her have more fun, he ignored her and softly asked, “Is it ok?”

“-- Sure” she smiled reassuringly – her confidence flooding his system with surprise and ardor.

With each beat, his heart raced, a relentless drumbeat echoing within him. He had experience with some other girls, yet the mere anticipation of her tender lips against his provoked an intense surge of excitement. The thought of her soft touch had his heart yearning to break free from the confines of his ribcage, making the moment more exhilarating and daunting at the same time.

His lips met hers tentatively at first, but Noelle's hand found its way to his neck, pulling him closer. They were locked in a more natural, passionate embrace. As their lips melded together, his whiskey-flavored lips meeting her cherry ones, a surge of anticipation coursed through them. Amidst the faint countdown from Bianca and another student, the surrounding sniggering served as a backdrop to their shared moment. Fuck.

Tom pulled back, his eyes wide with embarrassment and his cheeks as red as blood. Noelle also seemed slightly surprised, her eyes sticking to his as they sat frozen in place. Josh's voice broke them out of the trance, “Seems that wasn’t such a bad dare after all,“

“Shut up,” Noelle murmured while taking a swig of her drink, hoping the bitterness would wash away the arousing taste of Tom from her lips.

[agoodfictitle-shadowban]

From Vormir, With Love - Part 2

Tags: strangers to lovers, love in space angst on earth, slavery mention, alien abduction, post Endgame, will add as we go on

Summary: As you're being chased you crash on Vormir. So far, so bad. But things take a turn when you come face to face with a marooned Black Widow.

[Part 1] [here] [Part 3]

Word count: 3.1k

A/n: after some nice vacations I'm back! Thanks for all your support, and I hope you'll like this chapter!

Taglist: tbd

You were right, June didn't like you bringing one more person along. An Avenger on top of it. Still, she simply gave one look to the newcomer, groaned, and went back to her repairs. You could work with that.

Now, you're hanging in the cockpit of your ship, looking at the star chart. In the five years you spent drifting into space, you never managed to find Earth again. Most Aliens don't care for humans, and don't know where they're from. As for star charts, they cost an arm and a half, so you have to work with the one you have - one which of course doesn't give the common names of planets in human language and no translator has cracked it.

"What are you doing?" The voice comes from behind you, covering the snores of the rest of the crew in the background. Sleep doesn't come as easy to you, even if you have the privilege to have your own bed. For tonight, you decided to give it up to Tim. He looked miserable after the fight with Natasha.

"Looking up at the stars," you answer simply, eyes still on the chart.

"What are you doing in space?" She asks after a moment of silence.

"What are you?" You retort, not even contemplating answering her question, and finally looking up at her. Now that you know who she is, bitterness is starting to build inside you, for her and all the so-called Mightiest Heroes of Earth. You take a deep breath, you don't want to lose focus. "I know for a fact Avengers don't travel that far out without a reason, and clearly something happened." You point at the Aliens who came back from the blip. "Cause those guys appeared out of nowhere three days ago. So, what's up with that?"

"So it worked…" she whispers at first, in a sort of wonder, and you understand she had something to do with all that. She looks at you, searches your face, and for a bit you think she won't answer you. And then she smirks. That surprises you. "You're a smart one, aren't you?" She puts her feet on the board and you glare at them as she keeps talking. "I was here to save everyone from the snap. It's good to see we succeeded." She seems genuinely happy about it, but also troubled.

You hum, and you wonder if that's truly for the best. Memories from the day of the Snap flood back to you.

-

You had never been that scared in your life before. You had no idea where you were, if you were even still on Earth - you guessed that you weren't, because those… people were clearly non-humans. You remembered going to the convenience store down your street, after a long shift at work. The night had already set for a few hours at the time, and as you were about to pay for your ramen pack and soda, those things came out of nowhere. You tried to hide, to fight, but it was no use. You remember thinking that maybe, just maybe, someone would come and help you. The cops, the military, anyone. Maybe SHIELD or the Avengers had detected that strange activity, somehow, and they were on their way. But no one came.

The aliens took all of you, all the ones that were in the store, and the next time you opened your eyes, you were in what looked like a ship.

You were kept in a cell with the clerk from the store - June, you learned, an engineering student who was working two jobs to pay for college - and food was coming from the ceiling in bags. You quickly realized it was sedated, and stopped eating until your stomach begged for something, anything. Some of the aliens were walking around, probably to keep an eye on the prisoners, and you quickly noticed that the only ones armed were those who had six eyes and a weird stone in the middle of their forehead. There were others, they looked like they were only doing maintenance or cleaning. They had a collar around their neck. This lasted maybe a week, and you kept praying that anytime, at any moment now, someone would come to save you. But once again, no one came.

And then one day… no one came again. No guards. The prison doors opened for apparently no reason, and you took a step outside. Was it a trap? Your naked feet walked alongside other prisoners. Besides June, you couldn't understand any of them - they were all aliens speaking different languages, and the other three humans were nowhere to be seen. You found weapons, and fought some of the aliens. You managed to outnumber most of them with the other prisoners. Soon enough, you were aboard a ship and on your way elsewhere. You remember looking at the star chart with so much hope. Home. It was right there.

-

Home is nowhere to be seen.

"I wish you could be as optimistic as you." You shake your head.

Now, those Aliens have more manpower than ever, and will certainly come after you again. You will need to lay low for some time before you can keep going on your quest for Earth.

"You're not happy," Natasha simply states. It feels like you're raining on her parade, so you decide to reassure her in order to keep the peace. There is also this weird feeling in your chest that makes you like her smirk, and the stupid spark in her eyes, so you might as well try to keep it there even just for some personal gratification.

"No, it's probably good. Means more people to help us get back to Earth. Which, you wouldn't happen to have a star chart on you?"

"No. But I might know someone who does." Here is the smirk again, thinning her full lips that you could kiss right now if she is telling the truth. You lunge towards her and put your hands on her upper arms, one on each side, squeezing her. She looks surprised, eyes wide, almost ready to fight but she keeps it in her.

"Wait? Are you for real?! This would be fantastic!"

"Why don't we calm down first, hm?"

You want to throw a party and dance of joy. "Calm down? It's been more than five years!" You whisper yell to not wake up your guests. "I can finally go home!"

She decides you're a lost cause when she sees you walk towards June's quarters and almost fall from dancing happily between the bodies sleeping on the ground. Somehow, seeing this after the past few days makes her smirk slightly, her heart lighter. You disappear around a corner just as the memory hits.

-

When she opened her eyes, it was to a dark sky and crimson surroundings. Her clothes were damp from the small pools of water under her. Not far was the sharp cliff she jumped from. She remembered the last thing she saw. Clint. She sat up. He was nowhere to be seen, and she wondered if her sacrifice didn't work, because right now, she was very much alive. No. She should still be dead. She should still be… free. She swallowed. She never wanted to die. But. But… she stood up, as tired as ever, and checked her equipment. Her Widow's bites were fried, as were her comms, but she still had her sidearm. Now, she had to find Clint.

He was nowhere to be seen, she realized once she came back up the cliff. No one was here anymore, not even Red Skull, she was all alone. Alone. She was used to it, it was fine.

She checked her comms again. Still nothing, not even statics.

She sat down on the same rocks as earlier. Was it earlier? She searched around her pockets, and found her phone. She was barely able to make it work, but soon enough she realized what her problem was. She was back to today's time, after she left for the past. Clint wasn't here, not because he abandoned her, because the last time he was had been years ago. It suddenly made sense. What didn't was why she was here. But for now, she had a much more pressing question: how was she going to go back to Earth?

Luckily, fate gave her a quick answer.

In the horizon, light caught her eye. Someone was crashing here, and she would only hope to get to you before you left again. With no time to lose, she started her walk.

-

"Are you sure she isn't brain dead? 'Cause she ain't answering." June's voice brings Natasha back to the present. She arches an eyebrow and tilts her head the slightest in her direction.

"See, not dead," you say in triomph.

"Why don't you stop talking about me like I'm not here." Her tone is harsh, and it shuts up both of you. You rub the back of your neck and look away, ashamed, while June just crosses her arms almost in defiance. It's still enough to get back to the main subject.

"Whatever," June starts, "do you really know people who could help us?"

The irreverence aside, there is some fear in her voice, and it quickly clicks in Natasha's head: she's scared to get her hopes up. It's a fear she understood all too well; hope is always the first step towards disappointment. Hope is dangerous. But sometimes it's all you have, and she isn't about to disappoint those lost women.

"Yes, we just need to find them."

"And who are they exactly?" asks a very guarded June. You elbow her, and she simply send you a glare, ignoring your suddenly very shiny personality. You'd never been one to be pessimistic, despite everything that happened, you just knew how to hide it, but right now you were almost beaming with joy.

"Carol Danvers, ideally, then Peter Quill, or Thor, one of the two if we don't have a choice." She shrugs like this will be easy. To be fair, they are very well known individuals. June looks at you to see if you know who she's talking about, since you're well informed usually. You are always the one going outside the ship to find the missions. It takes you a second to know exactly who she's talking about, and you nod.

"Carol is our best bet, anyone with authority has a way to contact her. We can just go to the federation probably, but the Nova Corps could be closer. I think they have an outpost a few jumps away…" You're already thinking, looking back at your star chart to find the closest place where you can contact Marvel, or whoever the other two were - well, Thor you know, but the name of Peter Quill sounds made up, even if it titillates your brain. "I'll check the radio as soon as we leave Vormir's atmosphere. Something is blocking the communications."

June nods, then looks at Natasha with distrustful eyes. "You better be telling the truth or you'll pray you did."

Somehow, the threat works on you too and you move on your seat in discomfort. June always was the more serious of the two of you, and held an even bigger grudge against the Avengers than you did. It reminds you that maybe you should distrust a spy a little bit more, as you eye the ship's console. Natasha is less impressed, but still takes things seriously.

"I am," she simply reaffirms in all seriousness. You observe her, and she seems genuine to you. It looks like it's enough for June too, because she simply goes back to her bed.

"Sorry for June," you say when she's out of earshot. "She's… we both went through a lot. Makes things hard." Hard to trust, hard to forgive. You're happy that she could help, but you also know tomorrow the bitterness will still be there. Of course, Natasha knows too well what you mean, the vulnerability that comes with the short explanation, and she offers a simple nod in understanding, her eyes expressing all of her empathy.

You're thankful for it.

A small silence establishes itself, during which you look each other in the eyes. It's easy to fall in hers, the infinite pool of water so inviting, so full of hurt to learn and comfort to find. You could read a full life, and something more, a spark no one else had. It lasts a few seconds, before you get back to the star chart, and she stands up to go get some water. When she comes back, she brings some to you, and you thank her in a whisper. She starts to clean her weapons and tinkers with her widow bites to try and repair them. While she does that, she notices you talking to yourself when you plan your next course and smiles slightly while looking down. Her lips crack from three days spent in what was virtually a desert.

Somehow, it makes her think of home.

-

Everything is ready for take off, and as your hand hovers over the handle ,you send a look to June. She gives you a thumbs up, but you know she isn't as sure as she looks, you know she probably thinks there is a small uncertain chance you will crash again and not survive this time. But with the help of Natasha - turns out she's a good mechanic at least - and some of the maintenance crew, you managed to repair the ship earlier than June told you the first time.

"Okay, up and away we go," you whisper to yourself as you push the thrusters. "Let's hope."

The ship shakes under the building pressure, but it holds. You push them some more as you gain elevation, the ground further and further away, and before you know it, you manage to leave Vormir's atmosphere.

You let out a breath of relief.

The ship stabilizes under you, and you send a thumbs up to June this time. As you go back to the console, your gaze crosses with Natasha's, and you exchange a small smile. You only had brief talks since she joined you, but she always was nice to everyone, if a bit short with Tim. The giant humanoid feline was still suspicious of her, the same way he was suspicious of almost everyone. You mainly tried to ignore the small brewing conflict, but it was getting harder. For now, you were simply happy to be back in space and not in pieces.

"We're green across the board," you announced, and everyone let the reassurance lift the weight off their shoulders. You then focus back on the ship. You still had to have the autopilot calibrated to the nearest jump point that would allow you to access the Nova Corps, then, if you were lucky, Earth.

It takes you little time to get the autopilot calibrated, and once you do you notice Natasha is still watching you, where the others simply went back to their activities. She's leaning against the hull, her arms crossed, a spark of curiosity in her eyes.

"How did you learn to pilot?"

"Observation. When we… commandeered this ship–"

"You stole it?" She raises an eyebrow.

"They were bad people." She nods, and you continue. "We had aliens with us. I just watched them pilot and learned via observation."

"Not everyone could have done that. What did you do back on Earth?" Her interest starts to make you the slightest uncomfortable, but you simply answer with a shrug.

"I worked some job that barely matters anymore."

"Never had a flying lesson?"

You shake your head no, and you notice admiration in her traits. It seems like you impressed her.

"I'm impressed," she confirms. "It takes some exceptional skills to pick up something like that."

Somehow, it makes you blush slightly and your chest rises with pride. You look away to hide it as you feel conflicted, and decide it's probably because the only other person you spent time with the past few years has been June, and she's not one to show admiration for others. Definitely nothing to do with Natasha herself being incredibly competent, and pretty. Very pretty.

Your eyes can't help but wander back to her when you notice the way the dim lights from the ship are highlighting her sharp jaw and her cheekbones, her long lashes projecting their shadows on her delicate skin. You realize you're staring, and that she's actually staring back. It makes you slightly uncomfortable, as you feel that after five years, there isn't much to look at, so you decide to break the brief silence.

"It's not… maybe a bit but– you know, you look tired. Maybe you should rest or something?" You fumble to change the subject. She has the audacity to smirk, and you want to cross your arms like a petulant child who's been caught in the cookie jar. But she's nice, and simply agrees.

"I should. You should too, commander." There is some teasing behind her voice, and you sputter a bit. She doesn't wait for an answer before she ducks back to the other side of the ship.

You stay there for a minute, trying to process the whole conversation. Was she…? Was that flirting? No. No way. You frown, trying to understand what just happened.

"Nope, no way. She's right I'm just tired," you finally settle on. You stand up and go back to the living side of the ship, asking Tim to keep an eye on the trajectory before you join your bunk. It was more a hole in the wall with a mattress stuck in it than anything else, but it was yours. There was another bunk on top of yours, where you kept some of your stuff before the arrival of everyone, but it had been cleared to give space to them. On the other side of the room, there is the same configuration, and on the top bunk you can make the silhouette of the spy. 

It's the last thing you see before you fall asleep, and you wonder how long the newfound safety you felt is going to last.

[fruchtfleisch-art]

fic prompt: tomoshino - balance, unfamiliar, or starting over!

Oh wow, some anonymous artist did guest art for this prompt! I wonder who it could be... everyone say thank you to them for donating two tender and beautiful pieces of housewife yaoi, they've done a tremendous service O7

Like usual, Shinobu ruins her evening at Tomoko’s before it begins. She has a new pair of kitten heels, cherry red, and the vague hope that they could be her new work shoes, but they’re not broken in and pinch terribly by the end of the day.

Her lack of sensible footwear makes them almost half an hour late to the Higashikata’s house, Hayato trailing ahead as his mother limps behind, willing herself to ignore the pain of each step. She wishes she had changed into sandals, or sneakers, even if they would have looked ridiculous next to her silky blouse and sensible, knee-length skirt.

Tomoko insists that it’s fine, but the table is already set, the central pot of zosui cold and congealing. Dinner is accompanied by the low hum of the microwave as everyone takes turns trying to revive their meal. Josuke, too impatient to wait, bolts his food cold and is gone, taking Hayato with him and leaving the adults to clean up.

That’s typical for the boys, but tonight Tomoko takes one look at Shinobu hobbling to the sink with a stack of plates and sends her away, too. It feels like taking advantage. It feels terrible.

“You want a cup of tea, baby?” Tomoko calls from the kitchen, interrupting Shinobu’s sulk. The faucet squeaks to a stop.

“Sure, but I can get it-”

“No, you stay there. I’m already up, it’s no trouble.”

Maybe Shinobu is way overthinking things, but she can’t help it. Every invitation for coffee, every phone call or letter in the mail, every time Tomoko hugs her and tells her to come back soon feels like a minor miracle, some fantastic alignment of the stars and planets. If she can’t correct the balance, offer something of herself in return, how is that possibly fair?

And yet… here she is, a steaming cup of green tea in her hands. There Tomoko is, thumping down next to her with a heavy sigh. She looks tired, but that’s all. No anger. No resentment.

“Long day?” Shinobu ventures.

“You don’t know the half of it.”

Something nice about Tomoko is that she always has a story ready. It’s usually something mundane- a funny thing one of her students did, an argument she got into with the drugstore clerk- but occasionally something truly bizarre surfaces, usually involving Josuke. The Higashikatas attract weird like magnets and metal filings. Today the subject is her coworker’s hunky new aid, a broad-shouldered, dark-haired man who can’t be older than twenty-five. Normal workplace gossip.

What little Shinobu has learned of Tomoko’s dating history paints a daring, provocative picture: the mysterious older American who impregnated her as a college student, a number of risky flings in hotels or work breakrooms, a man she was seriously considering marrying at one point, except for the fact that Josuke hated his guts. At some unspecified time, she worked for an elderly woman, delivering groceries and tidying her shoebox apartment. The woman offered a huge sum to Tomoko for her to stay and warm the bed one night, saying how lonely she was, how late and dark it had gotten. Tomoko turned her down, trudging home through snow and icy rain, only for the old woman to call the next day asking her to pick up a quart of milk like nothing had happened.

They’re not that far apart in age, but their vast gap in experience makes Shinobu feel awkward and stunted, a child playing at adulthood. She often thinks that she might never close that gap. The men at her office are mostly middle-aged and comfortably settled, with wives and children and mortgages. Even if she wanted to date (and she doesn’t), it would be slim pickings.

It’s not like anyone would go for her, anyways, not the way she is now. She’s too needy, too insecure. It clings to her like a bad smell. Shinobu sets her empty teacup down, feeling atrociously guilty. She couldn’t boil her own water, take her own teabag out of the wrapper?

“You know, I wasn’t saying you couldn’t do it, earlier,” Tomoko says, as if she can read Shinobu’s mind. “I was asking if I could do it for you.”

“I… oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Tomoko shifts a little closer, coming up off the arm of the couch. “Are you okay? You’re awfully quiet today.”

“It’s nothing, really. It’s just my stupid work shoes. They’re too tight.”

Another nice thing about Tomoko: she asks for forgiveness before permission. Shinobu is sitting with her legs tucked under her, but Tomoko gradually coaxes them into her lap, casual as you please, and starts to rub hard circles into the balls of her stockinged feet.

The conversation continues, light and insubstantial, but Shinobu can’t seem to focus.

I was asking if I could do it for you. But why does she want to do it in the first place?

“Is that any better?” Tomoko eventually asks. “I’m not much of a masseuse.”

“No, it’s wonderful. Thank you.” When’s the last time anyone touched her like this? A year ago? More? What has she done to be treated with such care?

“Tomoko,” Shinobu says, “are you sure it’s not- I don’t want you to feel like you have to have Hayato and me over all the time. You’ve done so much for us, more than you need to-”

“And what? You think I feel sorry for you?”

How can she not? Tomoko has a beautiful house, a good son, a decent-paying job. She’s confident and grounded; she doesn’t base her self-worth on the opinions of a man who left her behind without so much as a goodbye note.

“I mean, I do,” Tomoko says, and Shinobu feels a little pang in her chest. “But shit, doesn’t everyone have a hard time sometimes? You’re doing your best, all by yourself. Why can’t I make life a little easier?”

“Because- because-” she sputters, and the realization is like turning on a light. Because Kosaku never did. Because Kosaku never would. Because I’m the one who has to do everything myself, always, forever.

“Oh, hey,” Tomoko says, her face softening. “It’s no big deal, really. Don’t cry, alright?”

Shinobu kisses her instead.

She thinks, what the hell am I doing?

Tomoko sets one hand on Shinobu’s waist, the other on her back.

She thinks, I’m so selfish.

Tomoko pulls herself forward, into Shinobu’s lap. She feels the warm heavy weight of Tomoko’s bare thigh, the sharp tug of teeth at her lip. It’s like being set on fire.

She thinks, I want to crawl inside of you and never come back out again.

“Stay over tonight,” Tomoko says, when they stop. There’s a smear of Shinobu’s lipstick at the corner of her mouth.

“Does that mean you want me to buy milk tomorrow?”

“Hm?”

“The story about the old woman?”

“Oh, that. I made it up. I was trying to see if you were…” She shakes her head. “It was stupid.”

“I thought it was sweet. You’re a friend to lonely women everywhere.”

“No way, never. I only care about one lonely woman, right here,” Tomoko says, kissing her again, and Shinobu’s heart soars.

Ask box is still open, send me p4 prompts for minifics!

[elementary-my-dear-daddy]

Earning Your Keep

Analogical (Virgil & Logan)

This story will be a series for the sugar daddy idea i've had running around in my head for some time now lmao. I really hope you guys like it since I enjoy writing it :)

Read it on AO3!

Virgil likes to take care of those he holds close, and maybe also a stranger that offered him a ride home.

Virgil was never rich. His family was big and his parents couldn’t make very many ends meet for most of his life, leading him to work his way through school. Once he graduated with a bachelors in psychology, he picked up two jobs to start paying off his loans, one in retail which drove his mental health into the ground, and the other as a behavioral health tech at a rehab center, which only had night-shift positions open and kept him up all night. He was paid and treated like shit, and on the cusp of breaking down when he got extremely lucky. For his 27th birthday he got the usual card with a cheesy message from his grandparents, but instead of the typical twenty bucks or a gift card, he found a lottery ticket sitting neatly inside. He didn’t think much of it, handing it over to the convenience store clerk when he was picking up an energy drink before his next shift.

“I don’t think this is worth anything, but if it has anything on it can I just use it to pay for this?” Virgil put his drink on the counter while the clerk scanned the ticket.

“Woah, woah. Oh my god.” 

“What?”

“Dude, you just won.”

“Huh?” Virgil knit his brow in confusion. He glanced over at the cashier’s screen, noticing the rather large number it displayed.

“Yeah, you won the jackpot! It’s over like 200 million! Holy shit! Here, sign it and take it to a lawyer!” The person handed him back the slip of paper and a pen. Virgil’s brain had short-circuited, causing him to just follow instructions. He didn’t really understand what was happening, so he just took the ticket back and walked out and back to his car, driving straight home and immediately typing ‘what to do if you win the lottery’ into his computer.

A bunch of results came up saying a bunch of stuff- tax experts, lawyers, and a bunch of steps that caused Virgil to lay down on his bed and rock back and forth for a little while. He didn’t believe this was happening to him. Maybe it wasn’t real? This was just a nightmare right? A really good bad nightmare.

All the things he saw online said not to tell anyone, but he couldn’t just sit there not making a decision. He picked up the phone and dialed the only person he knew who could possibly help him out.

~~~~~~~~~~

“You what ?” Janus’ voice hissed through the speakers on Virgil's phone, “Is this some weird joke, because it isn’t landing well.”

“No, no, I promise it's real, I-I checked and the numbers match up and I verified it at the gas station and, and-”

“Virgil, breathe. Calm down. I’m coming over so we can talk. I’ll help you get this figured out, and make sure you aren’t having delusions of grandeur.” Janus sighed, “I’ll be there in 10.”

Janus was over shortly, Virgil working with him to figure out the next course of action. Everything was going so fast. The next day Janus helped him set up meetings and accounts, and get lawyers and a budget going. The week flew by in between the contracts and calls. Even the next few months seemed to go by in a blur of bureaucratic processes. 

The first thing he did was set his parents up with a decent place to live and help them with their debts and medical bills. He did the same for himself, getting his student loans paid off finally and allowing himself to move into a spacey yet cozy penthouse. He quit both his jobs, but tried to end on a good note with his boss at the clinic in case he did ever want to go back. He was, probably for the first time in his life, comfortable.

~~~~~~~~~~

Time kept passing and Virgil had to now figure out what he wanted to spend his time on. He’d picked up his passion for music again now that he could afford nice equipment, but never had the intent to go anywhere with it. He looked into some online classes he could take, just for fun and to keep his mind stimulated. He even worked with Janus and some of his lawyers to start a charity for helping disabled students with loans that didn’t have the luck that he had. That was as close to a job as he had, once they had an office set up he made a regular schedule to help sort things out with it.

The routine he made helped him adjust to his new life. Getting up, going to the office, processing applications, working on his classes and playing music. He didn’t really spend his money anymore beyond his needs. Nothing fancy brought him much happiness. He didn’t host parties or have many friends that hung out with him before he became well off. He’d tried to go on a few dates, but the people he’d seen either knew him from the news when he originally won or they’d act disinterested until he brought up his money. The one time he actually thought he’d found someone he was interested in, the guy had thrown a fit that he wanted to end their 3rd date early to not have a panic attack.

They went to a planetarium, which for the most part Virgil enjoyed, but the segment about how small of a spec the earth was in the grand scheme of the universe triggered the existentialist anxiety of dying alone and not mattering. He had to run out and go calm down, but that proved difficult with his date shouting.

“Do you know how fucking rude it is to just run out on your date? I had to pay for these tickets, you know, and they aren’t cheap!”

“I-I know, i’m sorry, I can, um, here I’ll pay you back-” Virgil started to reach for his wallet.

“Whatever, it’s fine, let’s just see if they’ll let us back in, cmon.” The guy tugged at Virgil’s arm.

“Um…Actually I was wondering if…s-sorry uh, could- could we just go home?”

“What, are you not having a nice night? You could at least not waste my time, you know.” 

“I know, I'm really sorry, we should- maybe, uh… you can go and I’ll just head home and call an uber-”

“Ugh are you serious?” His date frowned, “You know what? Just go, I don’t wanna deal with this anymore. Don’t call me again, we’re done.” 

He watched his date head back into the planetarium and sighed, resigning himself to a bench outside to shake off the rejection. He shivered as a spike of anxiety hit him. He had to count his breaths, but it wasn’t working. He was gonna end up alone and live a completely inconsequential life that had no impact whatsoever and-

“Are you alright?”

Virgil looked over at a man a few feet away from him. He stood tall, sporting glasses and a polo with the logo of the planetarium. Virgil didn’t couldn’t quite make out the name on the man’s name tag through his watery eyes. Oh shit, was he crying? No no no this couldn’t happen in public, he was a grown man crying in public-

“Oh, apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you. I just thought I should intervene.” The man looked at Virgil with concern, “May I sit?”

Virgil nodded, easing slightly as he did. He took a shaky breath and wiped away his tears, “I-I’m so-sor-ry. I could-n’t stay in there. S-sorry.”

“There’s no need to apologize, take as much time as you need to gather yourself.” He spoke calmly. His tone comforted Virgil enough to steady his breathing and collect his thoughts.

“I’m…I’m good. Sorry.” Virgil sighed, “Just had a shitty date.”

The man frowned, “I see. Was he your ride home?”

Virgil nodded, “Figured I’d just get a cab or something.”

“Don’t waste your money, my shift just ended. If you’re comfortable with it I’d be happy to offer you a way home.”

“No no I can’t, I mean- It’s fine it’s not like money’s the issue I just don’t wanna leave him here alone.”

“After he just left you?” 

Virgil looked towards the doors of the planetarium. He slumped his shoulders in resignation, “I guess you’re right.”

“I don’t mean to intrude on your personal affairs, but he is not worth your time if he does not respect your boundaries, and I don’t feel comfortable leaving you in a potentially unsafe environment. I would feel much more assured if I knew you returned home unharmed.”

“Fuck it, ok.” Virgil sighed. He looked over at the man and was able to see him a little more clearly. His name tag attached to a Dr. Who lanyard read Logan in bold font. He looked rather lanky and had bags under his eyes comparable to Virgil’s own.

“Would you like another minute to calm down or would you like to walk with me to my car now? I don’t mind waiting.”

“Uh, no, we can go now. Th-thank you, um, Logan.” Virgil offered a half smile.

“Of course, uh…”

“Virgil.”

“Virgil.” The man- Logan, stood up and motioned for the other to follow him.

Virgil stood and accompanied him to the car. It wasn’t the fanciest thing in the world, far from it. It looked like one of the windows had been punched out and was covered with cardboard and duct tape. It looked like an older car, and when they got in Logan had to start the engine a few times before it actually got running. 

“Please excuse the state of my car,” Logan said pulling his seatbelt on, “I’d fix the window on my own if I could but I’ve been too busy to do so. Here, do you mind putting your address in so I can get directions?”

Logan handed Virgil his phone, the other quickly inputting the info and handing it back. Virgil fastened his own seatbelt as they drove out of the parking lot.

“So, you work at the planetarium?”

“My shirt indicates so.”

“Right.” Virgil nodded, “What started that?”

“I needed a part-time job to work during nights while I attended college. I studied astronomy and a professor recommended applying for the position. The job just stuck after I graduated.” 

“That sounds pretty cool. You get to go to all those shows, right?”

“No, I get to sit in the ticket booth.” 

“Oh.” Virgil looked out the window as they drove, “I didn’t realize.”

“It's alright,” Logan said, shrugging, “I’ve seen them all anyway, when I had more free time.”

“You can’t take a day off?”

Logan’s lips pursed, “Not really. I work two other jobs.”

They both spent the rest of the ride in silence until the car approached the area where Virgil lived.

“You…live over here?” Logan questioned, looking around at the tall, well-kept buildings of the city.

“Um, yeah. I guess.” Virgil sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, “I moved here a few months ago. Doesn’t feel like it though.”

Logan hummed in acknowledgement, still looking around at how different this place seemed compared to where he lived. He pulled up to a decorative building with too many stories to count from his view. He parked the car and turned to Virgil.

“Thank you for allowing me to take you home. I’m sorry you had a rough night but hopefully you’ll find someone else that will accommodate your needs appropriately.” Logan offered a smile.

Virgil returned it, before clumsily reaching to take off his seatbelt and pull out his wallet, “Uh, here.”

He offered a wad of cash to Logan, who in return pushed it back, “No, please don’t worry about covering gas. It isn’t far from my-”

“Take it. Get your window fixed too. And if you need anything else just, um, give me a call or something. Thanks again, Logan.” Virgil said, getting out of the car and shutting the door.

Logan watched him greet the doorman (his building had a doorman?) and head to his apartment, before staring down at the cash. It added up to about $350, plus Virgil's business card. He blinked and debated trying to go after him, but decided he wouldn’t be able to find him since he didn’t know which apartment was his. He pulled out his own wallet and stuffed the cash inside. The card Virgil had given him had his name and number, along with the name of a charity Logan heard the name of a few times from the news. This was too much to process, so Logan just put the card in with the cash and drove home. That was a problem for someone much more well rested.

~~~~~~~~~~

Virgil flopped down on his bed as soon as he got home. He pulled out his phone and immediately blocked his date’s number, writing him off as just another insensitive asshole trying to take advantage of him. He let his mind relax in the safety of his home and tried to just forget about tonight. Except Logan. He couldn’t get him out of his mind.

Working two jobs had Virgil on the verge of a panic attack almost every night, he couldn’t imagine working three like Logan had. And how long had he been driving that car? Wasn’t it dangerous to drive when your engine doesn’t turn over and you don’t have a window? Those bags under his eyes, was he not sleeping well? Was the money he gave him enough to cover everything? 

Virgil exhaled through his nose and flipped onto his back. These were morning problems. Or at least wake up at 3 am and worry about life problems. He glanced at his clock- 10:30. Definitely something to deal with tomorrow.

[froody]

I realized I enjoy playing this game like an adult dollhouse

Anyway, my current Sims game centers on a teenager. She was named Melissa after the Allman Brothers song. Her mother works as a clerk at Sally Beauty Supply and her father is a Hell’s Angel. They’ve lived in a single side trailer in Oasis Springs her entire life. She didn’t have her own bedroom growing up but she saved enough money to rent one of those Lowe’s sheds and renovate it, finally giving her privacy and her own space.

She isn’t close to her parents. Her mother’s only joy in life is destroying marriages, everyone’s marriage except her own. Her father is a terrible insufferable man who was only put into this simulation world to raise hell. She often felt like the responsible party in her household. The one who had to fix the shower when it was broken because nobody else would, the one to bake herself a cake on her birthday. Her childhood dog, Roxie, is her closest family member and even that has its downsides because Roxie has a habit of randomly attacking people.

Melissa spends as much time away from her house as she can. She joined the cheer squad freshman year. She stays late at school every day, practicing her cheer routine alone at the football field, practicing her painting in the art room, teaching herself piano in the music room until the early hours of the morning. On the weekend she goes for long walks, usually rockhounding in hopes of finding valuable things to sell to pay her way through college, sometimes painting by the sea or just sitting under the stars with Roxie.

Melissa isn’t alone in the world, not really. She has so many friends. Her classmates love her. She’s had a steady girlfriend since freshman year, a spellcaster named Tilly. She loves her. They like each other but sometimes she feels like they don’t know each other. Melissa doesn’t tell her about her parents, about the backyard shed thing, about the nights she wanders around the forest. But she knows she likes Tilly, knows Tilly is good and that she could trust her if she could only make herself open up. She wants their relationship to work but things get in the way.

At a party Melissa met Logan, a very stupid very blond werewolf who goes to another school. They stargazed together and she developed a massive crush on him. He’s an artist, just like her. He has a strained home life, just like her. He never knew his father and his stepdad died when he was 15, leaving his mother alone to raise two sons in the sad dying little town of Moonwood Mill. He’s not like her at all, not like Tilly is like her. She wants to graduate early with Tilly, move out and go to university together, make a happy life. He’s a goofball and a terrible student. But his stupid eyeliner worked on her. She loves Tilly but she likes Logan.

She’s hoping to graduate soon, leave Logan and her parents behind. Her last ambition is to throw a party of her own, a real gold star kegger. She can’t host it at her house, it’s too small and her parents are always home. She found an abandoned cabin on one of her many walks and she’s fixing it up in hopes of throwing a real rager. She knows it isn’t her house but it’s nice to have a big quiet place of her own. She spends more and more time there, not just building a perfect party spot but an illustration of what she wants her life to be like.

[avpdvoidspace]

one thing I wish was discussed more in reference to avpd is how it affects school and work and hobbies. it's mentioned sometimes but not in great depth, and your recent post on how you can't be around someone if you don't immediately feel comfortable with them is also very relatable and applicable to other social situations too, methinks

I went to college for a week. I would stay outside til the middle of the night so I wouldn't have to be around a roommate I didn't know in a cramped dorm. I didn't go to classes. I would sit in abandoned alleys behind buildings and read so I could relax without worrying about seeing someone

tried again, moved again, lived off-campus. this time I didn't even go to school just because the thought of it becoming a reality was terrifying. I would have to interact with people I didn't know? in a field I was inexperienced in?

I've also never held a job for more than a week. it gets too overwhelming and I quit. sometimes I go though the full application and interview process, get accepted, and turn it down once I realize it entails actually working with people

same with hobbies that involve other people. maybe I'll last a day or two doing something new but if I don't immediately feel safe I'll never go again

I understand that most people imagine dating and friendships when they hear 'social' but oh my god it affects EVERYTHING. I can't even pass someone on the sidewalk without feeling like I'm about to die of fear.

(p.s. anyone and everyone is encouraged to add on I really like relating to people)

All great additions, and yeah, I have just tried to be as anonymous and hidden as possible in school and work situations. Now I'm physically disabled and unable to work and I don't miss it at all. The most stressful part was always being around people and peoples' expectations on me. I'd hide in the library room, the bathroom, and the printing room when I was a teacher's assistant. When I worked as a file clerk, I would never come out of the file room, and it was fine because the other workers would just leave the files outside to fileroom door. The best job I ever had was cleaning vacation houses, though. Even though I was working with a crew, we'd devide up and take on a different part of the rental, and I could be totally alone and just do the work. Now I spend the majority of my day completely alone trying to make a career out of one of my hobbies, and apart from the whole being poor thing, I've never been happier. As for hobbies, I have ocpd, so you know I'm going to get obsessive about a few hobbies. Of course, all of them are things I can do 100% alone. Drawing, studying languages, and single player video games. The thought of a multiplayer, especially competitive, video game fills me with unspeakable dread. Anyway, I truly wish there were more jobs where you could just work in solitude. As for now, I can only think of some janitorial/cleaning jobs, and being a hotel night auditor in a not busy area. And it'd be nice if you could get an education without having to interact with so many other people. Accomodations for agoraphobic and avoidant students? Where are these?

[hughungrybear]

7 Comfort Movies

Tagged by @imlivingformyselfdontmindme (post here). I have to confess that I have not seen the inside of a cinema since the pandemic. However, I do have tons of subscriptions from different streaming services and most of my favourite movies are old anyway lol 😅

In no particular order

1. It Happened One Night (1934, United States)

Starring Clark Gable, Claudette Colbert

Synopsis: In Frank Capra's acclaimed romantic comedy, spoiled heiress Ellie Andrews (Claudette Colbert) impetuously marries the scheming King Westley, leading her tycoon father (Walter Connolly) to spirit her away on his yacht. After jumping ship, Ellie falls in with cynical newspaper reporter Peter Warne (Clark Gable), who offers to help her reunite with her new husband in exchange for an exclusive story. But during their travels, the reporter finds himself falling for the feisty young heiress.

2. Crazy Little Thing Called Love (2010, Thailand)

Starring Baifern Pimchanok, Mario Maurer

Synopsis: A junior schoolgirl Nam (Pimchanok Luevisetpaiboon) falls in love with her schoolboy senior Chone (Mario Maurer) but is afraid to show her feelings to him, partly because Chone is everyone’s idol, and Nam regards herself as unpopular, homely-looking, and average. She has nothing that can make him notice her. But with the support of her three best friends, Nam revolutionizes herself, starting with her looks and activities to get him to notice her.

3. That Thing Called Tadhana [Fate] (2014, Philippines)

Starring Angelica Panganiban, JM de Guzman

Synopsis: A story about a broken-hearted girl who meets a boy in a not-so-normal way. Together, they go to places and find out "Where do broken hearts go?"

4. Koe no Katachi [A Silent Voice] (2016, Japan)

Starring Miyu Irino, Saori Hayami

Synopsis: As a wild youth, elementary school student, Shouya Ishida sought to beat boredom in the cruelest ways. When the deaf Shouko Nishimiya transfers into his class, Shouya and the rest of his class thoughtlessly bully her for fun. However, when her mother notifies the school, he is singled out and blamed for everything done to her. With Shouko transferring out of the school, Shouya is left at the mercy of his classmates. He is heartlessly ostracized all throughout elementary and middle school, while teachers turn a blind eye. Now in his third year of high school, Shouya is still plagued by his wrongdoings as a young boy. Sincerely regretting his past actions, he sets out on a journey of redemption: to meet Shouko once more and make amends.

5. While You Were Sleeping (1995, United States)

Starring Sandra Bullock, Bill Pullman

Synopsis: Lonely transit worker Lucy Eleanor Moderatz (Sandra Bullock) pulls her longtime crush, Peter (Peter Gallagher), from the path of an oncoming train. At the hospital, doctors report that he's in a coma, and a misplaced comment from Lucy causes Peter's family to assume that she is his fiancée. When Lucy doesn't correct them, they take her into their home and confidence. Things get even more complicated when she finds herself falling for Peter's sheepish brother, Jack (Bill Pullman).

6. Empire Records (1995, United States)

Starring Ethan Embry, Rory Cochrane, Robin Tunney, Liv Tyler, Renee Zellweger, Anthony LaPaglia

Synopsis: Joe (Anthony LaPaglia) runs Empire Records, an independent Delaware store that employs a tight-knit group of music-savvy youths. Hearing that the shop may be sold to a big chain, slacker employee Lucas (Rory Cochrane) bets a chunk of the store's money, hoping to get a big return. When this plan fails, Empire Records falls into serious trouble, and the various other clerks, including lovely Corey (Liv Tyler) and gloomy Deb (Robin Tunney), must deal with the problem, among many other issues.

7. Clerks (1994, United States)

Starring Brian O'Halloran, Jeff Anderson, Jay and Silent Bob

Synopsis: Dante (Brian O'Halloran) is called in to cover a shift at his New Jersey convenience store on his day off. His friend Randal (Jeff Anderson) helps him pass the time, neglecting his video-store customers next door to hang out in the Quick Stop. The uneventful day is disrupted by news that one of Dante's ex-girlfriends has died. After attending her memorial service, Dante muses over staying with current girlfriend Veronica (Marilyn Ghigliotti) or reuniting with ex Caitlin (Lisa Spoonhauer).

Tagging @lost-my-sanity1, @telomeke, @bengiyo @shortpplfedup and anyone who sees this and would want to play 😊

[beelmons]

Escapade 3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!reader Rating: Explicit, readers under 18 are not advised to read this story. Tags: smut, best friends to lovers, possible angst at some point, porn with plot, mentions of weapons, minor OC appeareances for plot purposes, mentions of death for plot purposes, unprotected sex, reader drinks a bit of alcohol. Summary: Your little encounters with Reid become an usual thing, and when a case takes you away he opens up about certain concerns he's had about them. Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 / 3: Bonus | 4 | 5 | 6 A/N: Repost so it can appear in tags. If you want to be added to the tag list for future chapts, let me know in the comments or my ask! Tag list: @punkndisorderrly

After your first affair, you managed to score two more times with him. The second time happened under the same conditions as the first, late night at the bar, he was the one to walk you home, you invited him in, and the rest was history. The third time, though, got more complicated; it was right before a flight, when JJ told you to “grab your go-bag”, you thought it was a great excuse to slip away for a couple of minutes with your little lover boy, and the fact that he had had the same idea did not help the cause. “Let’s do the thing” he texted you as soon as your liaison finished giving the order. You barely made it to the flight, messy and restless, and of course the focus was all over the two of you.

Somehow, don’t ask me why, you managed to sell the story that you had forgotten to update your bag and the clothes you had in there were dirty from the last mission. Kind as he was, Reid had offered to drive you to your apartment and help you pack your gear. You weren’t sure if the team had bought it, but the briefing needed to be done and they were not about to lose time snooping in your private lives. After that close call, you agreed to profile each other afterwards, trying to see anything your coworkers would be able to see that could give you away.

Fast forward to the utility closet escapade. It had been the day after a very tough case, you could see in his troubled face that it was hitting him hard, he was as stressed as ever. He blew you off the night before and you decided to give him space, you cared for him after all. The morning of the affair, you got the text around 10:00am. “Let’s do the thing” once again, it sounded ridiculous, but it made you feel the excitement you had long forgotten, ever since you got this job.

Days went by and the opportunity didn’t present itself. The office had been crazy with paperwork and research students, and the university tour Hotch had warned you about before. Thankfully, or not, the event was interrupted by an urgent case. It took you to Missouri, some small town which name you didn’t manage to register; the place in where you stayed could barely be called a hotel, and the beds were so small your boss had to resort to giving you all individual rooms, he also ordered each agent to review the case on their own before the meeting in the morning, so you were stuck by yourself for the night.

Unsatisfied with being alone with such a horrific case, yet another sexual sadist, you decided to take a walk. Unlucky you, the desk clerk was doing his night rounds around the halls. He was a creepy man, young nonetheless, that kept throwing flirtatious, unwanted jokes at you, and Prentiss, and JJ, and any woman that moved. At any other time, you would have suspected him as a possible killer if it weren’t for the airtight alibi Emily had corroborated earlier.

— My, my, what do we have here? — he said suggestively —Can’t sleep?

You were standing in front of another room, which you prayed would be Prentiss’s and she would come out any second to rescue you.  

— When you see what we see, sleep is not really something you enjoy. —you answered dryly.

— Well, care for some company? I’m Steven. —he offered a hand to shake, which you did making sure it would only be understood as a formality.

— Actually, we’re not supposed to interact with subjects of the investigation.

— I was cleared, though, plus no one is awake right now. —he kept pushing— The staff room is just around the back. I have some coffee and snacks if you want to hang out.

You were about to knee him in the stomach, couldn’t men just take the hint? You were fidgeting with your fingers, trying to hold back the feelings of anger and disgust rumbling inside you, but before you were able to give into your not-so-pacific solution the opening of the door beside you robbed your attention from Steven to someone else.

— Hey, what are you doing here? —Spencer said as he stood beside you, his body still half way inside his room— I was just going to go get you, I need your insight on something I noticed about the UnSub.

Your eyes found each other for a second and you shot him the most thankful yet pleading look he had ever seen on your face.

— Hey, man, we’re kind of in the middle of something here. — Steven interrupted with a confidence that was making you even angrier.

— Oh, sorry. —Spencer apologized almost offendedly— I just thought you might want us to catch the serial killer around here.

— You know what? I’m sorry Steven. —you turned to the odd man and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly— We are just short on time and, for your safety, it’s better that we solve this soon.  —your body then turned to face Reid and you took the folder he was holding in his hands as you walked past him into his room.

There was an awkward exchange of glances between the two men remaining on the hallway. Unable to take the tension in the air, Reid slid back behind the door and shut it closed. Before he could say anything, and he really wanted to, you tackled him into a sincere but quick hug, to which he responded loosely. 

— What was that for? —he asked with a small smile on his face.

— Dude, you just saved me from an insanely awkward situation. I swear to God, men sometimes don’t know how to take a hint. —without wanting to go over the topic any further you took a seat on one of the chairs by the coffee table that had file documents scattered all over— So, what did you want to ask me?

— Right. —he said as if he had snapped back to reality— I’ve been checking victimology trying to find a pattern, and I don’t know if there’s something here, but all of victims had a diagnosed phobia of balloons.

 — Globophobia? —you asked confusedly.

— They found traces of balloon material in the last victim, maybe a support group for people with globophobia could be the connection.

— Most people who develop globophobia in early their years actually evolve to develop globophilia, arousal from balloons. You know, —you continued as he looked at you expectantly— support groups for odd phobias are a lot less common than fetish communities for odd philias.

— You think he’s targeting people with attraction to balloons?

— He could even be a balloon fetishist himself.

— Worth the shot of presenting it to the team in the morning. —he reassured your theory.

— If you don’t mind, can I stay the night? I really don’t want to try and go back to my room with little Steven doing rounds.

— Sure —he said lightheartedly. There was a small pause on his side, which you thought was the end of the conversation until he started up again— Listen, I don’t mean to sound like Morgan, but nothing can happen tonight, we really just have six hours to go through everything I can find on balloon fetishists, and we should really focus.

— Excuse me? —you said, pretending to be offended— Calm down, stud, I think we can exist in the same area for a few hours without fucking.

He stuttered incoherently before a smile from you calmed his tension. You continued to rummage through the papers together in utter silence, occasionally exchanging a “this is interesting” before highlighting a piece of information. Nothing else seemed to be indicating a connection, the clock was ticking, and the case just seemed to be redundant, the same theories generating over and over again.

— Can I ask you something? —his question put an end to the silence in the room.

— Sure —you said loosely, your eyes still fixed on the document in your hands.

— Am I good in bed?

— What? —the oddness and bluntness of the question made your attention snap back to your partner— I thought you only had six hours to learn everything you needed about balloon fetishists, and you should really focus.

— Sorry. —he said as he went back to looking at the file in front of him— Most sexual sadists end up with a misconception of sexual release because, at some point, they discover they are inappropriate or insufficient in bed.

— You can’t be thinking you are insufficient in bed, can you? — His eyes met you once again, lips pursed in embarrassment, and he shrugged at the question. At this sight, you threw the papers you were holding somewhere onto the coffee table— Okay, honest talk, I always have fun with you, but, sometimes, I’m the one who gets worried about how tense you look whenever I’m getting you off.

— But that has nothing to do with your skill, or mine for that matter, I just, I never really know what to do with myself when I’m receiving… —he made a pause, as if trying to find out the right words —receiving fellatio.

— First of all, it’s weird that you call it by its roman name. —you joked— this is what I’m talking about, you don’t know what to do because you overthink.

— I overthink because I want you to feel good, isn’t that the point? So, I don’t really want to do something that will make you uncomfortable.

— I mean, yeah, that’s great, and I really, really appreciate it, but for you to feel good is also the goal, the whole point of sex is that both parties are enjoying themselves. Going with what you feel is right or pleasurable for you is also valid and can be pretty fun for your partner as well, it’s nice to let go of control every once in a while. Plus, —your tone had turned softer— if you want to do something you’re not sure I will like, just ask me. I would tell you if there was something I didn’t want to do.

— But you have never said no to anything before.

— Well, —you crossed your arms over your chest, almost trying to hide the shyness that your next statement was generating in you— so far, everything you’ve done, I have enjoyed.

You could see a soft smile draw on his face. He deserved the praise he was getting; Spencer was a gentleman in and outside the sheets, he was caring, compassionate, and attentive, it was about time you did something to pay back the years of having your back without thinking twice, and if teaching him how to relax with a woman was going to do it, then so was it. You decided to stand from your seat to sit on the carpeted floor, next to the coffee table you were working on, and patted the spot beside you, inviting him to seat with you.

— What are you doing? —he asked with incredulity as he accepted your invitation and joined you on the floor.

— Relax, I won’t break your stupid rule, and you will get back to the balloon fetishists soon. We are just going to do a little exercise, I want you to close your eyes, and listen to my instructions, got it? —you watched amusedly as he, so naively, obeyed your commands— I want you to picture a woman, okay? Someone you really, really like, she’s standing in front of you. Now, imagine she has just agreed to spend the night with you, and she said that you can do whatever you want to her. What do you do first?

— I… —you could tell your questioning was making him nervous— I ask her if she’s really sure.

— No, Reid, God! —you complained— She already told you she is sure, she wouldn’t be doing so if she weren’t, unless you had taken her by force. Did you take her by force, Reid?

— Of course not!

— Then, she’s sure. Focus again, she gets closer to you, what do you do first?

— I really want to kiss her.

— Good, good, go ahead, you are kissing her, and you can tell she wants more. Don’t think about what’s right or wrong, if something’s off she will tell you, think about what you want to do, what you want to feel on her, or on yourself.

— I really want her to moan out my name.

— My, now that’s a challenge. —you said teasingly— How are you going to make her do that?

— My hands… —he paused for a second, and you were enjoying, a bit too much, the way his fingers trembled, and his eyes moved from side to side covered by his eyelids—I put them on her waist, but that’s not where I want them to be, so I move them to her ass. I’m kissing her neck, instead, she tastes so good.

— Okay, go on, Reid, remember you can do whatever you want. —your voice had begun to lower, you were trying to encourage him to continue, not trying to pull him out of the fantasy.

— There’s a wall, and I want her up against it. She’s still facing me, though, and I can start feeling her front. I want to go lower, her underwear is in the way, but maybe it should remain like that, I want to feel her wetness in around my fingers, to have her clench around me so hard, that all she can think about is me…

You had begun to feel flustered; you figured the fantasy wasn’t about you, even if, for a second, you wished it was. You decided to clear your throat to snap him out of his daydream, you had promised you would work the case, after all, and you didn’t need the urge of being under him boiling into your skin. You diverted your gaze as he opened his eyes.

— Lucky lady. —you said in a neutral tone.

Spencer was barely able to gather his thoughts once he laid his eyes on you. You were wearing simple pajama pants and a t-shirt, and you had completely forgotten that you weren’t wearing a bra. This last fact, though, didn’t go unnoticed by Reid. He could see in the way your nipples were perked up that you were at least intrigued by the scenario you had induced into his brain. To your great surprise, he didn’t say anything, instead, in a quick motion, he grabbed you by the shoulders and pushed you back gently until you hit the floor, he crawled until both hands were on the floor by each side of your head, basically pinning you down against it. Before you were even able to react, his lips were tasting the area of your jawline, a couple of nibbles being left on the skin as he kissed with hunger. You couldn’t help the whimper that left your lips, your hands, that had remained stiff up to now, wrapped around his back, trying to keep his body closer to yours.

He moved from your jaw to your ear, his tongue worked wonders on your earlobe, causing a shock of arousal to run across your body. Your lower bottom was looking for friction, so you tried to grind against the thigh that had been placed in between your legs. As he felt your movement, one of his hands travelled down to stop the motion of your hips, pushing them against the carpet once again. Astonished by his actions, you moved your head away so he was forced to look at your questioning face; he answered with a mischievous smile, and lowered himself once again to whisper into your ear.

— Relax, I will show you what I do to unwind.

He continued to taste every bit of you around the area of neck, and the only thing that could help you shake the feeling that you had heard those words before off was the sensation of his hand sliding under your pants. His slender fingers moved curiously across your slit, trying to get a sense of how lubricated you were, safe to say if he were to fuck you there and then, you were more than ready to go down. His middle finger began to circle around your nub, and your hand traveled to his hair in response; you couldn’t help but to tug on it instinctively. You heard him chuckle under his breath; he was enjoying seeing you so desperate, with your eyes tight shut, being able to focus only on him.

— You just fantasized about another woman, and yet you are here with your hands down my pants, you sure are a playboy, Dr. Reid.

Your sentence came out in between heavy breaths. You didn’t have an answer on his part, instead, his finger moved lower to slowly insert it in you. Yes, that was enough to shut you up, in a sense. The loud sound of pleasure that your throat emitted gave him the validation that he needed to keep going, he thrusted it, slowly at first, trying to get a hold of what you enjoyed. You could feel the finger curling, up, to the sides, down, whatever direction he could, he was exploring with the determination to find what made you squirm, and, at last, he found it.

Your grip on his hair grew tighter with every stroke of his fingertip, your toes curling upwards, just trying to contain the sounds that were dying to get out. A part of you was enraged about the fact that he had gotten turned on at the thought of someone else, and you were probably just an outlet for those urges. Petty as you could be, you did your best to contain your moans, you were not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing what he could do to you with just his hand, while he fantasized about God-knows-who. Though, you were not being very successful at your plan, soft whimpers kept slipping past your lips as he continued to move at a steady pace, the bottom part of his palm was purposedly pushing against the area of your nub, making sure it was not being neglected.

He began to feel you squirm more desperately, and the walls of your insides getting tighter around his fingers. He finally took a breather from devouring every piece of skin he could get access to, limited by the t-shirt you were still wearing, and fixed his gaze on your face instead. You opened your eyes at the loss of him, your hand still unwavering on his hair; he made sure not to stop the rhythm he had established with his finger and as your climax reached you couldn’t help but to moan out, quietly, his last name.

You laid tiredly against the floor, still a bit pissed at how the situation had unraveled but filled with bliss and relaxation. You sure had a clear mind now to work on the case. Spencer stood back up with ease and offered a hand, the clean one, to help you up.

— I have to, uh… —he made a motion with his hands as if he were washing them

— Sure, sure.

You watched him slide into the small bathroom in the room and heard the faucet open. In your head, the plans on how you were going to get back at him had already began to form. He thought he could just finger you in the middle of the night and get away with it? You were sure he was hard underneath his pajama pants, you had seen how immersed he was in his fantasy, after all.

Your train of thought was abruptly stopped by the most intrusive sound there is: a knock on the door. There was panic in your eyes as you looked at the closed piece of wood, and Reid’s face, as he jumped out of the bathroom, was mirroring your expression.

— Who is it? — Spencer yelled from his place.

— It’s me, kid, sorry, were you asleep? —you could hear Derek’s voice on the other side.

— No, we were just going over the case —The young doctor skipped clumsily in your direction as he replied and looked you over, you did the same, you were trying to see if there was anything out of character, but you hadn’t come up with any sort of story, there was nothing to match, how you were going to sell the idea? Relax. It’s normal for you to visit each other during trips, it helps you bounce ideas around, it was okay, there was no reason to suspect. —Coming! —he yelled once again. By the time he opened the door, you were already back onto your chair pretending to be buried on a random victim file.

— Hey, what’s the matter? —you heard him ask your coworker.

— Sorry to bother you, I just couldn’t sleep, something about this case, man, it’s making me really uneasy.

— Yeah, we were reviewing the files to find a pattern, and we think it gets even creepier.

— Now, this is the second time you said “we”.

— Oh! —Spencer moved out of the way for Derek to catch a glimpse of the room, seeing you sitting on one of the chairs.

— Hey, I didn’t mean to interrupt… —he said apologetically, not with his usual teasing tone.

— You’re not interrupting, we were just working. Want to join us?

Morgan seemed to have a little bit of doubt about staying; he didn’t want to think he was cockblocking one of his best friends, specially when he needed to get laid the most, although, upon further inspection and seeing pictures of corpses laid all over the apartment, he didn’t perceive anything romantic about the set up, and so he decided to enter, to Reid’s disappointment.

— And how did you end up here? —he said with a smile as he caressed your shoulder in a friendly manner.

— Ugh! —you complained— I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a short walk, and Steven McCreepy down there had me cornered down the hall. Dr. Reid here actually saved me from him.

 — I just happened to walk outside, I didn’t really do anything.

— Learn how to take a compliment, kid. —Morgan said as he patted his shoulder— Now, why don’t you walk me through what you already have.

You briefed him on the whole balloon theory, and he seemed as horrified as both of you were in the moment. The night continued with a very focused group of profilers, and Spencer was able to finally go back to learning about globophiliacs. Your eyes were starting to feel tired because of the lateness, and even though Reid did seem like being able to go on until sunrise, both Morgan and you had begun to feel the strain.

— Okay, we’ve made good progress, but I think I’m going to call it a night. —Derek interrupted the session first.

— I’m beat, too. —you joined.

— I doubt Steven is still going around at two in the morning, but do you want me to walk you to your room? —the offer from Morgan caught Reid’s attention, and your eyes met for a couple of seconds. It was a no-brainer, though, you didn’t have any real reason, or excuse, to be staying in your partner’s room for the night, and finding one was just going to add to the suspicion Derek already had.

— Sure, thanks. —you answered.

The blond man remained quiet as he accompanied the two of you to the entrance of his room and waved with an apathic “good night” before shutting himself inside. Morgan kept to his offer and walked all the way back to the room assigned to you, most of the trip had been in silence, both being too tired and overwhelmed by the case to discuss it any further. You took your key and unlocked the door once you were finally by it, but before you were able to enter, his voice stopped you.

— Hey, I really need to ask you something. —he said with tenderness in his voice, and you turned back to be facing him instead.

— Okay, what is it?

— Is something going on between you and Reid? —he blurted out.

The question did take you by surprise, but you kept your expressions at bay, only furrowing your brows in confusion.

— Why do you ask? Jealous? —you joked. His expression and lack of laughter, however, showed you that his concern was genuine, and he was not looking to kid around.

— You know the rules about fraternization.

— You are the one to talk. —you answered with a snark.

— Okay, screw the rules about fraternization —he finally seemed to loosen up a bit— I just don’t want you or him to get into something you won’t be able to get out of. Look at Hotch, and Rossi, this is not a job that allows for a happily ever after.

— Thank you for your concern, Derek, I really appreciate you looking out for me, and I know how much you care about Reid, too —you took a couple steps forward and laid your hands on his shoulders— but I promise, nothing is going on. We are good friends, that’s where it ends.

Your eyes fixated on his, and, for a second, you felt the guilt bubble inside you. Was it worth it? To be lying to your friends, the people who loved you, to jeopardize a sincere friendship, and even your job, for some casual sex, was it worth it? You didn’t want to think about that anymore, moreover, it wasn’t only your decision. If Reid wanted to stop it, too, he would have already. That’s what you told yourself to calm down the burning sensation of what you thought was an innocent lie, even if you knew otherwise.

— Alright, I’ll take your word for it. —he shot you that signature smile of his— Good night, sweet lips.

He made sure you locked your door before he headed back to his own room. It suddenly hit you, the weight of what you were doing, and the recklessness of your will to do it again. If you could only stop thinking about Reid on your body at every waking second, maybe things would go back to normal.

If.

[sailtomarina]

We're roommates

Of all the weekends to be sent on a remote assignment, it had to be the weekend of Hermione’s birthday.

There wasn’t any particular reason why she wanted to stay home. Previous years hadn’t included anything special other than the hastily planned dinners while she and Ron had dated, a brief and truthfully forgettable period of time. Harry and Ginny were too wrapped up in the chaos of raising their children, a task she did not at all begrudge them. Hell, if she were a mother, Hermione was sure she’d need to hire Hagrid to control the little beasts who would no doubt inherit her hair.

No, what Hermione dreaded this year was that she’d be spending her birthday weekend with Draco Malfoy.

She had to admit after working with the wizard that he was a natural at slithering his way around outdated Ministry policies. She hadn’t really appreciated his brains when they were students, but now in a department rife with imbeciles hired by connections rather than abilities, she was thankful for him. It felt odd saying that, knowing that in another reality Malfoy could have easily bought his way into any department and position—that is, if he would have even deigned to enter the workforce, much less work for the government. Instead, he was her subordinate at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures thanks to the Wizengamot’s ruling after his trial and had been for several years. He might roll his eyes at her ongoing support for magical beings, but he nevertheless did the thorough research she needed.

They worked so well together that the head of their department deemed them a necessary unit for this job. Hermione had inwardly fumed despite taking on the task without protest. If Malfoy immediately accepted, then she certainly could and would…except the git had gone and made a huge mistake.

“Excuse me, what did you say?”

The front desk clerk of the hotel didn’t even bat an eyelash at her sharp tone. Staring Hermione back dead in the eye, she repeated herself, “You have one room. There are no other available rooms for the rest of the weekend.”

“C’mon Granger, it can’t be that bad. Let’s at least go take a look.” He had the audacity to swipe the hair back from his eyes without a care in the world, completely ignoring the glare she sent him.

She grumbled the entire way from the walk to the lift, up eight floors, and down to their doorway at the end of the hall. She stamped her foot in frustration as the ward accepted Malfoy’s wand. She shoved her way in first and proceeded to let loose a string of profanities that would have made the Weasley boys proud. Finally, she pointed her wand threateningly from Malfoy to the nearby couch.

“You will sleep on the couch.”

“I will not sleep on the couch.”

“Well, I certainly won’t. This was your mistake!”

“You won’t have to. We can share the bed like the self-controlled adults that we are.”

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s a king-sized bed. It’s large enough to line the middle with pillows if you’re that terrified of assaulting me in my sleep.” He smirked at her in his usual infuriating way, before plopping down on the side closest to the door with his arms cushioning his head.

“Me assault you?” Hermione barked out a laugh in disbelief. She refused to tell him that he was lying on her usual side of the bed.

“Of course. I know how irresistible I look, especially when I’m dressed down for the evening.” The muscles in his biceps flexed as if agreeing with the ridiculous claim.

She couldn’t even dignify that with a response, mouth gaping then snapping shut multiple times as words failed her. She had to deal with this for three whole days? She wasn’t even sure he’d survive until the end of the night if things continued as they currently were.

“Come now, Granger, let’s see if this sad excuse for a town has anything resembling good food.”

He bounced up from the mattress and swatted her on the arse with a pillow.

“Malfoy!”

Where had this playful side even come from? He grinned down at her with a strangely relaxed drape to his frame she wasn’t used to seeing. Was this how he always was outside of the workplace?

“We’re roommates now, so we might as well make the best of it.” With a casual flick of his wand in a blatant display of silent magic, he popped open his luggage and sent its interiors soaring into the closet and nearby drawers. His toiletries zipped over the bathroom with another swivel of his wrist.

“I will sleep with you—no, not like that—on one condition.”

“Name your price, witch.” He waggled his eyebrows at the slip of her tongue.

“Teach me that spell you just used.”

He repeated his earlier movements on her own luggage.

“Wait, Malfoy, that’s not what I asked—” Her voice cut off as one particular item stopped mid-flight and flew into his hand.

“Granger, care to tell me why you not only have a Falmouth jersey,” he paused to turn the offending item around before continuing, “but one with Flint’s name on it?”

She could not, would not, look at him. The jersey was one of the softest shirts she owned and her favorite to sleep in. She coughed delicately into her fist and tried to shuffle around him towards the exit.

“We might have…dated…a bit.”

He caught her on the arm before she could completely pass him.

“How did you two even meet?” The curious tone to his voice, not at all judgmental as she had initially expected, encouraged her to finally look up at him. He held her gaze, completely earnest in his question. Hermione was tempted to brush the hair that had fallen into his eyes back into place.

“He, um, had his teeth fixed a while ago by my parents.”

Understanding dawned on his face as he recalled the last time he’d seen Marcus. “So that’s what happened. I wondered who he went to.”

Glancing back down at the jersey, he finally let go and allowed it to join the rest of her shirts in the drawer.

“I’ll show you the details of the spell after dinner as long as you join me.”

He remained serious, smirk nowhere in sight and one hand still warm where it wrapped around her upper arm. She had a feeling she could say no and that he’d accept without a protest. She didn’t need to know the spell—Hermione was fairly certain she could suss out the incantations given enough time and practice. There was just something particularly intriguing about the way that he was looking at her and the entire scenario in which they’d found themselves.

He’d accepted their assignment immediately and booked their accommodation before she’d asked him to. He hadn’t corrected the desk clerk when she announced their rooming situation. Instead, he insisted they share the bed. Now, he was withholding knowledge, which he knew she passionately pursued, with dinner as a requirement.

Hermione was intelligent, but sometimes she had to admit she could be a little dense at times.

“Okay, Malfoy. Let’s go eat.”

Any doubts she might have had about accepting his offer were banished at the sight of the smile that lit up his entire face. The slight squeeze on her arm before he let go and rushed for the door sent a pulse through her body she recognized as want. She hadn’t felt that since…well, since Marcus, which was over a year ago.

Maybe this birthday wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

WC 1283

Even though this is obviously a Dramione, I've revealed a bit of my Flintmione interests. What can I say? I can't resist Slytherin boys in Quidditch uniforms.

My parents are in town driving me batty with usual parent things. Someone HELP ME!

Twitter prompt from DramionePrompts

[hotboiessek]

had a stress dream the night before my first day with students about not filling out attendance quick enough and our attendance clerk getting angry at me

[lastleggysee]

Last Legacy M3 Western AU

Sage is the rough-around-the edges bounty hunter with a heart of gold.

He spends most of his time drinking and wandering from town to town, just looking to make enough money to pay his tabs and send something back to Tulsi. He had a horse at one point but he's taken to borrowing horses as he needs them and then setting them free when he no longer has any use for them, but he genuinely cares about the creatures and treats them well while he's working with them. Presently he's a solo act, but he previously ran with a group of similar bounty hunters. They were a rough group of men, most of whom having some sort of criminal record, but they dedicated their manpower to keeping the areas neglected by any sheriff's forces safe. Sage left the group under mysterious circumstances after the group's leader, Lucan, mysteriously vanished following a string of murders taking place around town. Sage has a lucky gun he keeps close at all times (even while asleep) and is slow to trust strangers, outsiders, or anyone really since Lucan vanished. Now, he spends most of his nights in odd inns and bars, hoping to find Lucan and finally get some answers and looking for his next target.

Anisa is a sheriff's deputy who showed up to town with an impressive skill set under suspicious circumstances.

She's the first female deputy in the town, and despite the initial pushback she got for this she's well-respected and admired around town. She mostly keeps to herself, partially as a survival tactic, but always keeps treats and snacks in a satchel for children around town. Strangely, she's one of the only deputies left in the state that still carries a sword along with her gun, keeping it strapped to the other side of her belt and praying she never has to use it. Despite being widely regarded as friendly and approachable, those in town can't help but to remark that they know shockingly little of her past or lineage. She has a horse that she cares for exceptionally well, despite her coworker's somewhat rude remarks towards her about this, spending at least an hour every day dutifully brushing and caring for the creature. Each week she visits the post office and sends a letter to her mother, casually brushing off remarks from the clerk about how she should really address something to her father every now and then. Despite her best efforts, she can't contain the way her face drains of color every time her father is mentioned.

Felix is the town's disgraced undertaker.

He attended one of the most prestigious colleges in the nation, but left abruptly under mysterious circumstances. He's a hot topic around town, with new rumors about him floating around almost weekly. Some rumors say that he was the top student in the medical program but was kicked out for performing vivisection and other strange rituals with dead bodies. Others say he's a witch (or at least, has ties to the occult) and that he shouldn't be trusted under any circumstances, with his large books and chilling gaze. It doesn't help that he taxidermies in his free time, and that his shop appears to constantly have a cold draft leaking in from somewhere despite the heat. Despite his business being widely regarded as the second choice in the town, he never appears to have a shortage of funds available at his disposal, and the shop has never shut its doors, even on holidays. Mostly keeping to himself, he rarely ventures into the market for food and supplies unless absolutely necessary, and even then he'd much rather pay someone to go for him and return with the goods than to do it himself.