#“you set my heart on fire” type shit over here

[demonicnarwhale]

yay more Diamonds Boobs (he doesn't have any. mf would be concave if that was a thing) (loser lol) and Hearts Boobcars stuff

[ma1dita]

solipsism

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 5.1k

summary: (post-TLT) drink responsibly… trouble doesn’t; you punch luke in this lol (novelization spoilers? kinda canon-compliant)

The one where you finally pray to Hestia to keep your home safe, even if he's also trying to destroy it. Luke visits you four times during college, in a timeline opposite to yours (doctor x river song-coded) (lore expansion & explanation here) (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: i hurt myself with this one. anyways its canon (to me) that we’re roommates now !!!! more to come like i promised even during my birthday break ! scream at me in the comments and feel free to reblog :)

(post 3/6, edited/betad @hotchfiles )

—

solipsism (the idea that only one’s mind is sure to exist)

You didn’t mean to send a prayer out into the world so strong that it would will an apparition of an Olympian, but burning cookies seems to be your specialty. Arguably, they weren’t the good kind, just the ones you grab in the freezer aisle of Walmart, and still, somehow they set your fire alarm off. Opening a window and waving through the smoke— Hestia, goddess of the hearth and home was standing next to the rickety dining table you bought off Facebook marketplace. 

“Holy shit, you scared me!” 

There’s mirth in her eyes at your reaction, though for all you know it could be annoyance—it’s not often that an immortal could be badgered enough to reveal themselves for an accident like this one.

“Dionysus was right. You’re too much like him for your own good,” she grins, taking a seat at the table like she’s an old friend. There’s a warmth to her unlike anyone you’ve met before—fire crackling in her eyes and an aura of serenity swaddling the air that you’ve never felt before in your student accomodations.

“I’m sorry I just… with all due respect, what’s going on?”

You go to toss the hot tray of cookies in the trash bin, before hesitating and putting them on your nicest plate. A gentle shove slides them over the table to the goddess, and she takes a crunch out of one happily.

“You were praying,” she states, like its common knowledge, “so strongly, in fact, I thought I’d make a visit to one of my most loyal devotees. Though in this case, you’re the object of his devotion, yes?”

Your hands are clasped across your lap and a familiar feeling spreads through you, then she jerks her hand up and points, “There. You’re doing it again. Y’know, it’s about time you start reciprocating the effort. Hermes’ son prays for you with intention.” You were thinking about Luke before she appeared—and hope glimmered like a tiny open flame. It’s still there, in the slow beating of your heart.

“He’s waging war with the gods. I don’t think he prays to them anymore,” you reason. Luke's offerings to the hearth must have been extinguished by the wrath he’s rained on Camp Half-Blood by now. The perfect storm.

“Not when it comes to you. Mortals never fail to surprise me. But it seems you’re a special case, my sweet. He’s made a home of you.”

To love Luke feels like having to keep a secret and never being able to tell anyone, but Hestia reaches for your hands across the table and looks at you knowingly.

“When I gave up my seat on Olympus for your father it wasn’t a sign of weakness, even if I did it so that others could be happy. I think your soul is a lot like mine in that you’ve given up so much of what you want to protect others. In turn, he’s doing the best he can to protect you; I listen to him every day, sweet girl. You are not weak for loving him still. There are generations of strength in your bones.”

“What else am I supposed to do? I search for him in everyone I meet and I’m not sure I’ll ever find that type of love again.”

These are thoughts you’d never told anyone—not Annabeth, not your father, not even yourself and surely never aloud.

“I hope you never do,” the goddess says, and you know it too.

i. no winter lasts forever (a night out after a drive home from virginia)

Flick. Flick.

“Come on, Hestia. Not you too. Don’t fail me now,” you mumble. The frigid metal of your zippo lighter rubs against your thumbs as you cup it in your hands, shielding the tiny flame that fights the harsh winter wind. Trying to focus as you lean against the brick of the Inferno, you take a deep inhale of smoke to warm your bones. Healing was never supposed to be easy.

Breathe in.

It’s somewhat of a routine you’ve made since getting back from visiting Annie. You’re a regular at this pub now—not even acclimated to the ins and outs of your sleepy college town, and though you don’t know the name of the hall your classes are in, you do know there’s a barstool in the corner of the Inferno with your name on it. There’s something funny about using your father’s gift as a form of fake id, and you wonder if he knows how heavily you indulge in your vices. Five vodka redbulls down the hatch have your knees feeling weak under the alley light until a stranger looms over you like a shadow.

“Those things are gonna kill you one day.”

Breathe out.

“Gods willing,” you laugh, stumbling over your boots and Luke catches you like he was never meant to let you go in the first place. The leather of his jacket is musky and his hair is buzzed. 

Either you were wasted or uncaring of who he was (both), you toss him your car keys and climb into the passenger seat. It’s a silent ride to your apartment besides you giving him the directions and Luke wonders how bad he must have hurt you for you to lay out for a stranger and waste away like this. But he’s the farthest thing from a stranger, even in this error in time and you’re still the daughter of the god of wine so after the third time you try to put your key in the lock he helps you because he hopes you’ll let him in.

“Y’know Annie would get a kick out of your haircut. Come inside.”

You’ve always been able to see right through him.

He’s standing in the hallway with his hand around your waist and he’s already broken too many of the titan’s orders by being here, so he scoffs, “You’re not gonna remember this by morning.” But you leave the door open anyway, dragging him by the wrist and your hand still feels the same in his even after all this time. What more is there to resist when there’s not much left of him to lose? 

This is the last time, he reminds Kronos, and there are monstrous hands around his brain, but yours are still gently holding his heart. The little part of his soul that hasn’t been eaten away holds on for a bit longer, tethered to your being by the way your hands are tied.

“I can, if you want me to.” 

He looks ready for war, and he is— yet you have him following you around the tiny living room almost in a trace as your arms loop around his neck. Luke doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know if you’d want to see him sober, especially when his absence is still fresh for you.

“Baby you look different from the last time we met,” you slur, stepping onto his feet as he takes you for a spin around the coffee table, dancing in the quiet. He’s older than you’ve ever seen him, voice deeper and colder. This is not the boy that ran from you in the forest many months ago. This is a man who’s seen horrors you haven’t lived through yet. You can deduce that he’s the cause of them too.

“So do you. Though still as beautiful as I remember,” he whispers like he’ll get struck for saying it. Your eyes are unfocused as he inspects your face, still soft and young with hope. The titan grips his features now, almost burning through his sense of self—though it’s not tangible he wonders if you could see it.

“I see you all the time. I just… usually have to drink enough to make it feel real. I just miss you.”

He looks pained at your words, and for a moment you wonder if he even heard you. Luke pushes you towards your room, an aura of darkness spreading through him like fire but he relents, pushing past the flames. He’s on borrowed time now, but Luke would gladly waste those minutes tucking you into bed.

Lifting your arms up, he pulls an old shirt of his over your shoulders, and his eyes catch onto the fact that you’re still wearing the dragon scale necklace he made you. Luke digs through your medicine cabinet while you sloppily wash your face and his calloused hands rub serums and moisturizer into your cheeks like how you taught him once upon a time. These are the things he won’t forget. Kronos can take it all away, as long as he gets to keep you. You lean against his chest and shut your eyes, scared that if you open them again he won’t be there.

“You’re not supposed to be here, are you? Are you mine?”

“I’m always going to be yours,” he says with no hesitation, “Four years later, and there is still not one living thing worth losing you,” he says, lips chasing after your fingertips as you trace his jaw. Your eyes flutter in exhaustion, and Luke’s eyes survey your room and he finds traces of you that he’s missed as he rubs your back lovingly like he has all the time in the world.

Your hands cup his face, making him look at you, and he surrenders himself to you as you pull him into a kiss. He’s a ticking time bomb about to detonate in your arms. The warnings that Kronos is beating into his head is nothing compared to the pain of knowing he won’t be with you for much longer. And he kisses you like he could save you from his blaze by doing so, lips and tongue and shattered breath saying I’m here, and this is real. Maybe your worst vice is not being able to wean yourself off the taste of him.

“Tell me what I need to hear. Even if it’s not true…Even if you’re not real,” you say between gasps, and your position on his lap makes him wonder why he’d ever give the world up and burn it down when it’s sitting right here and staring at him with violet eyes.

“It’s always going to be you and me. I’ll love you until the end of my days and then some.”

You laugh in the way that drives him crazy—though he already is, for loving you still. Luke lost all sense of himself when he left camp four years ago. All that remains is you, pushing him so that his back hits the bedspread. He lets you consume what’s left of him, and he’s on fire.

You wake up the next morning with a jolt. It’s still winter, and you’re still alone but despite the chill, you feel warm.

ii. autumn years (with a familiar visitor who finally shows up on time)

Knock, knock.

There’s someone at the door, but your date isn’t supposed to be here for another 10 minutes.

“Babe, someone’s here for you!” your roommate Jo calls out, and you tell her it’s fine to let them in.

The pantyhose clings to the lotion on your thighs and you fix the bracelet on your wrist, stepping out from the bathroom hollering, “You’re early, Kit! Don’t tell me you’re skipping to the good part; I’m a lady i–”

“Who’s Kit?”

Luke’s standing in the doorway of your bedroom and his eyes flit to the reflection of your naked back peeking through the undone zipper of your dress. You look stunning, lips painted red and eyes smoky, but you’re also furious. Too bad he’s always thought you looked extra hot when you’re mad.

“None of your business. As you can see, I don’t exactly have the time for this, Castellan.”

He shrugs, closing the door behind him gently and with the raise of his brow, Luke is leering at you like a teenage boy. Respectfully, of course. The glint of celestial bronze against his hip reminds you who he’s become though.

“I’ll make the time if you say the words, Trouble.”

Sighing, you step forward, but then he does that thing again from the last time you saw him out on sea, twisting the crick in his neck like he has to resist your touch.

“You’re still funny. Some old habits die hard I guess,” you scoff, turning and lifting your hair out of the way so that he can zip you up. He opts to not touch you, sliding the dress closed until it fits against your body. You think you can feel his fingers ghost above your skin, and goosebumps rise where he leaves and his breath is warm on the back of your neck.

“Leave your weapons at the door. I run a tight ship, unlike you.” 

Gliding away from him while his hands are still in the air, you turn and sit at the edge of your bed, crossing your legs as you nod at him. Luke picks up the pair of heels next to where he sets the sword against the wall, and like it’s nothing out of the sort, he gets on his knees. You offer a foot to him while he speaks, “I could tell by the taser on your bedside table. You’ve killed monsters before, why a taser?”

There’s freckles on his tanned cheeks and he smells like the sun. You wonder what he’s done to come see you tonight.

“I’ve found out that not all monsters are mythical. When…are you?”

His eyes dart away from yours, securing the buckles on your ankles, and his touch sears through the mesh of your pantyhose.

“A few months ahead.”

There’s an eyelash on his nose, and your finger reaches out to touch it, but he flinches away. Face pulling into a frown, you spit, “You never slow down enough to let me catch up with you, huh?”

You can hear the microwave whirring in the kitchen, your roommate none the wiser of the sound of two hearts breaking. The both of you suddenly realize this is the first time you two have been alone (and the same age) since he left camp. There’s a silent question of if it will ever happen again as he gets up from the floor.

“So you’re seeing other people. Must’ve been easy, h—”

You punch him in the face before he finishes speaking, and all he can do is laugh. You would never let him off so easily.

“Fuck you. What, you think you can just hop in here and act like everything’s okay? What do you want, Castellan? For me to grovel at your feet and beg for you to fix what you broke?”

And you’re right, he supposes. This is the closest to peace that you’ll get in this life you’ve created without him. He won’t be able to take you on nice dinner dates like Kit can, or hold your hand without feeling like fate is going to smite him for existing. You scoff at the lack of his response.

“What happens next?”

Luke watches you chew on your lip, and even if he shouldn’t touch you in fear that you’ll will away his reason for defecting, by the gods does he want to.

“What do you mean?” he mutters. The cord of his necklace is tucked into your dress now that he looks closer.

“If I’m right,” you say (and it’s rare that you’re not), “each version of you that comes to see me knows less, and each time I see you I learn more. You were 23 last time. Why didn’t you see me at 22?” You know he won’t have an answer, but this is the only time you’ll be able to ask the real him. The one that’s yours, just a few steps ahead.

“There’s already been a lot that’s happened since I last saw you.”

“Are you going to hurt me?” you offer him, like he hasn’t already. He can feel the bruise blooming on his cheekbone and he grimaces with what he’s about to say.

“Never intentionally. I’ll try not to.”

It sounds stupid coming out of his mouth and you feel stupid with how empty you feel just watching him. He’s made a home of you, choosing moments in time to visit, but when he inevitably leaves, then what? Luke taught you how to be a home, forgetting you exist until it’s convenient and now there are things about yourself that you can’t unlearn yet don’t know what to do with.

Your roommate knocks on your door asking if you want a shot of vodka before your date starts, and Luke is already walking towards it since he’s overstayed his welcome. He raises his sword to open a portal but you shake your head.

“Go out the way you came,” you swallow, fiddling with the copper pendant around your neck, “and take the purple umbrella in the hall. It’s raining outside.”

When you walk into the kitchen moments later, the front door shuts gently and Jo’s sitting at the table with a mouthful of ramen noodles.

“Is he warming up the car? Your date’s hot as fuck, babe,” she grins, steam coating her glasses.

Knock, knock.

Your phone buzzes and there’s another knock at the door. Kit is 15 minutes late.

iii. auld lang syne (ringing in the new year with an old friend, or more)

Your apartment is filled with friends and acquaintances, but who the fuck cares anyway? There’s 10 minutes to midnight and you’re crossed out of your mind. Holding onto a half-empty bottle of prosecco, your heels clomp over to the window in the living room as you crawl onto the fire escape. 

Clack, clack.

The air is chilly as you hug yourself, and you hear someone step out onto the stairs behind you. 

“What are you doing out here alone?”

You sigh, not even turning to look at him, “What are you doing here, period?”

He takes the bottle of prosecco out of your hands, making you swivel your head to look at him as he takes a big gulp. He’s younger again, and it makes you laugh at how fucked up your luck must be to never be able to see him when you want. It’s always been on Luke’s terms.

“You’re too young to be drinking that,” you drawl, knees bumping against his when he takes a seat next to you. Long Island is quiet at night, and the lack of city lights is nice when you can see the stars so clearly. Music blares through your JBL speaker in the living room, and the sound of cheers gets louder when The Neighborhood starts playing.

“We used to do worse,” he laughs, but something in it sounds hollow. The breeze picks up and you shiver, taking the bottle back from him and swigging it.

“All these visits…you sure do know how to make a girl feel special. But you never come in the summer.” 

He clears his throat, before leaning back on his elbows, “ I haven’t gone a summer without you since we were 14.” This Luke doesn’t know what’s ahead of him yet, but you realize that he’s right. Even now, he keeps up the habit of pissing you off and raising hell on Camp Half-Blood every summer. You notice he’s not wearing his camp beads, and he notices you shiver again in the chill. 

Clack, clack.

Your heels rattle the metal of the fire escape as you readjust your position. He takes off his jacket to sling it around your shoulders and neither of you realize you’ve missed the countdown until fireworks burst in the sky above you. The red and blue reflect off the planes of his face, but what stands out to you is the orange of his shirt, and you comprehend now where he just came from.

“I had to see you. I didn’t get to say goodbye when I left,” he says, and you take another sip before handing him the bottle to finish off. The only new years’ kiss you’re getting is through the lips that hold the last remaining drops of prosecco. 

You nod, remembering it all too well as you both watch the fireworks in silence. He wasn’t able to watch them properly the last time he was with you, Annie, and Percy just a few hours prior.

iv. spring cleaning (only big days are ahead for the both of you) 

It’s quiet in your college apartment this morning. 

The moving boxes are half-packed and stacked against the wall of the entryway and the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the French press on your kitchen counter permeates the air. Perhaps the idea of caffeine is the last thing on your mind, hands twitching as they smooth over the black polyester of your graduation regalia. There’s a few hours still before the ceremony, but you’ve never liked being unprepared. Pollux is driving your dad down the Island because despite the war you’ll inevitably be fighting in once you cross the stage and get your degree, D specifically told Zeus that he’d wage another if he was made to miss your big day.

Parting your hair to fit under the ugly graduation cap, the tassel swings in front of your face as you grab a few bobby pins from the side table. A golden medallion of Castor’s smiling face almost whips into your cornea and you stifle a laugh. D said in his Iris message last night that all three of them would cheer so loud you’d be able to hear it from Elysium (and honestly, jokes aside—he probably has a way of making that happen). A staggered breath leaves your lungs, and you’re filled with anticipation, though you’re not sure what for. 

Time is a thief and you know that too well by now. After all, you’ve spent the past four years running from the truth of your heritage—dodging monsters between study sessions and grief welcoming you every time you come home. Four years later, and who are you trying to fool? While walking across that stage later you might as well take a bow. After all, your ex-boyfriend is the reason why there’s going to be a war of both blood and ichor, mortal and undying and still, you find yourself in the middle of it. You’ve found yourself fielding questions this last semester like dodging celestial bronze, the questions always a little too close to home and the answers you give are too entertaining to be considered the truth.

So, what are your future plans? 

Oh no big deal, just going home and dealing with generations-old family drama. If it drives me crazy enough I might enlist! 

Gods. 

How do you even articulate that these past few years were those future plans? That you didn’t expect to be alive this long, much less have the comfort of feeling secure enough to dream… It’s been years since you’ve had a good dream to work towards with a boy you once knew holding your hand through it all. But the expensive piece of paper you’ll be receiving later feels fake somehow. 

Who does that belong to? Surely not you…surely, someone who dreams without bearing the weight that comes with it. Someone who doesn’t have to look over their shoulder everytime they walk to work in the mornings, who can convince children that monsters aren’t real without having to lie. Psychology was a great field to learn from the mortal side of things—to know the reasons why brain chemistry affects us so deeply instead of just willing it away with the touch of your fingers. You like making people feel better. But who can ever do that for you?

A gust of wind sweeps through your room, the multicolored tassels hanging off your neck swaying from the force and you shut your eyes knowing he’s there again. Citrus and musk, and something that’s just him. He knocks over your hamper, cussing under his breath until his eyes follow your motionless figure in front of the mirror.

“Shit. I can explain, um… I thought you’d still be asleep,” Luke sputters, his converse falling into your laundry pile like quicksand. He bends over, stuffing your pajamas and sweatshirts back into the bin with fidgety hands as his eyes take a quick scan of your room. There are no pictures of you and him on the bedside table. For a moment, he wonders what that means but then his cheeks redden when he picks up a pair of your lacy underwear. He shoves that down too.

“Big day today. You know I can’t sleep when I know something is about to happen,” you smile wistfully, and you keep your eyes shut for longer, because like this, it’s almost like he’s actually there in real time. In a world where things went your way, this would be his apartment too, and his clothes would be scattered around your shared bedroom like how they used to back in cabin 12. You always used to put them on The Chair, as he would call it—but Luke’s known to make a mess of your life regardless of your efforts.

“When isn’t there? Something’s always going on when you’re around, Trouble.”

Click. Scattered memories flicker in your head like images through a view-finder, spinning through your vision as you hear the sound of his laughter, gently tapping away at your heart again. Click. In the ones you pre-selected, he’s draped in sunlight, honey eyes sweet and kind, and his kisses are perpetual instead of an indulgence. Click. He’s always wearing faded orange, worn-out, but most of all well-loved. Click.

You open your eyes and they meet his own in the mirror. Time stops for once, letting you catch your breath.

Right now, he looks just as you like to remember him, as you knew him four years ago. Multicolored camp beads are resting easily against his broad neck instead of weighing him down, and he’s wearing the red converse his dad gave him. He’s too young, and so in love with you that it blinds him, but even then…now, he knows the look on your face and it makes him ask, “It’s not my first time visiting you is it?”

“You’re usually more discreet, the door right behind me wouldn’t have been your first option. But you’ve never failed to surprise me before. Tell me about your day, Luke.”

A hesitant smile crosses his face as he sheathes Backbiter against his hip, adjusting under the weight like he’s not used to it yet, and then he speaks, “We ate strawberries in the fields today, straight off the vine, but I argued that the ones you conjure will always taste sweeter to me. You smushed one against my face and I carried you home. You?”

You nod, turning around to face a ghost of your past, and the both of you meet in the middle only a hairs distance away as you admire each other.

“I graduate today. Annabeth’s driving up with her boyfriend and the rest of my family is coming to celebrate.”

He doesn’t know of Percy yet, of Chris’ insanity, of your brother’s death, and the immense hurt he’s caused everyone. The smile that lights up his face makes you realize he thinks he's still a part of this—with you. And you miss him—even when he’s right here, fuck, you miss all the versions of him that have come to visit, even the ones you don’t know of yet. Tears brim your waterline as you take a deep breath; the last thing you want to do is scare him away.

“This was his promise to me. By showing me something I was sure of—and I always knew you’d graduate and make it big. Wanted to see it for myself, baby,” he grins, tangling his fingers with yours like your strings of fate, and though you know the answer to your next question you still take a chance, just in case.

“If I tell you what’s happened since…you. Would it be too late to change your mind?”

“Trouble, do you want me to? Kronos’ plan is already set in motion. I think…” he swallows, and your vision blurs without your permission as tears start to fall. Through the film over your violet eyes, Luke frowns and pulls your fingertips to his lips, kissing each one. He hasn’t done that in years.

“Did I make a mistake? Do I lose you, in the end?”

“Angelface…” you sniff, leaning your cheek against his hand, “You were so scared of losing me that you didn't even stop to think of what losing you would do to me. I lost you so long ago, Luke. And you’re not mine anymore. I don't think you have been in a long time.” In these heels, your forehead is closer to his lips so he kisses that too, hoping that somehow this time he can will away your pain instead of his. He doesn’t know what to do but hold you until you say something again.

“I’ll tell you something you need to hear. And no matter what you say or think, babe—it’s the truth. Even without all the glory in the world I would still be yours. I still am, even if I can’t bear it.”

Though he’s holding you, it somehow feels like the opposite—a purer version of him in your embrace while he holds the broken pieces of you together with his golden touch. Right now, you look into honey instead of gold. The both of you look at each other in the mirror melded together like kintsugi, something good still shining through the cracks of you two together like this.

The sound of keys jangling in the lock of the front door lifts you from his embrace, and with one look you both know its time for him to go; Luke’s brows furrow as he mutters, “I’m sorry. I’ll fix this, and we’ll be together. I promise.” You nod anyway, hoping at least one of you believe it.

“Go home, Luke. She…I still need you. I’m always gonna.”

He’s already got Backbiter in hand and one foot through time when he looks back at you. Your voice sounds a lot like how it does when you tell him you love him. Luke wonders how long it’s been since you did. Your bedroom door opens with a bang and some laughter.

“Hey troublemaker, you left the dryer on! All your clothes are gonna shrink,” Jo grins, peeking her head through the doorway of your room and she’s looking at you in your graduation gown standing there alone.

“Were you on the phone? Who were you talking to?”

It’s quiet in the apartment again. Your fingernails make indents in your palms, bunching up into fists before you let go. A sad smile crosses your face as you let the settling wind kiss your cheeks, before reality kicks in and everything settles back to how it was before. 

“Just someone I used to know.”

—

“And no one can ever figure out what you want, and you won’t tell them, and you realize the one person in the world who loves you isn’t the one you thought it would be, and you don’t trust him to love you in a way you would enjoy.” -Richard Siken

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?)

1/2 luke taglist: @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko@bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303  @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r@visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri

[littlestarlightseverywhere]

This Love

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel would set the world on fire if it that’s what it took for his mate believe she deserves his love

Warnings: None

Notes: Hiii! This is my first ACOTAR fic on tumblr! Az is my man my man my mannnn and I just love thinking about him. Here’s a little something that came to mind when I was listening to “This Love” by Taylor Swift

Image Credit: “This Love” Taylor’s Version lyric video

Azriel sat hunched over in the plush velvet chair in Rhysand’s office. His elbows dug into his strong thighs as he clasped his hands together, focusing on the slow, mindless movement of his thumb over the ball of his knuckle.

“I think the Cauldron got it wrong.”

“Bullshit,” Cassian asserted eloquently.

“The Cauldron doesn’t simply ‘get things wrong’,” Rhysand said softly from where he leaned against the front of his desk, arms crossed contemplatively over his chest. Cassian, lounging in the chair across from Azriel, threw his hands in the air.

“It takes longer for some people than others, you know.”

“I knew far before Feyre did,” Rhysand supplemented.

“Anyone with eyes can tell how she feels about you. It’s beyond me you don’t see the way she looks at you, brother.”

Azriel was at a loss. Pining after the same woman for decades proved brutal on the heart. Downright treacherous, really, considering he felt the mating bond snap a long time ago and she had given almost no indication she felt anything of the like.

He knew she liked him in the way a person “likes” their best friend who knows them inside out, has been with them through every insignificant or life-altering moment, and embraces every part of them– even the messy bits. No, Azriel had no doubt in his mind that she loved him. She’d said as much multiple times, which left him feeling even more confused.

He didn’t want to push her for fear of ruining what they already had. Things were good, he’d even go so far as to say things were perfect between the two of them. He knew he wasn’t a knight in shining armor, the picture of good, and there were many things he’d done wrong to get to where he is today. Still, she was the one thing he did right. The best part about his life. Whether she knew it or not, it was his truth and he swore if it came down to it, he’d stand to do right by her before Prythian.

“She just has everything together. I don’t want to take up space in a life where she has everything figured out. We are in good places in each other's lives. I would hate to pressure her to change any of it for me.”

“You say that as if you'd be ruining her life,” Cassian’s anger simmered to a sadness. “She’d never think that.”

“And what about you?” Rhysand interjected. “You’re breaking your own heart waiting for her to feel the bond snap. Maybe you need to help her on.”

“I would never put her on the spot like that.”

“I wasn’t suggesting–”

“What if she’d rejected the bond somehow?” Azriel stood up, legs suddenly overcome with the sensation of a thousand little fire ants devouring his skin.

“Now you’re just making shit up.” Cassian huffed, returning to anger.

“How else can any of this be possible? How can she be so oblivious?”

“There is one way,” Rhys offered, suddenly solemn.

Azriel and Cassian looked to their brother expectantly. Azriel felt his heart hammer against his chest in anticipation. A reason was good. A reason was a start. A reason meant that there was a way out of this purgatory he found himself in.

“I read it in one of Amren’s books a long time ago,” Rhys locked eyes with Azriel. “When the mating bond has snapped into place for one of the fae in the pair and the other has absolutely no indication of it, usually it is a sign that they are not looking for a mating bond at all.”

“A lot of people don’t go looking for it,” Cassian reasoned. “I myself was more of the let-it-happen-when-it-will type.”

“Not looking for it in the sense that they don’t believe they deserve it. In the way that perhaps it's simply not meant for them.”

Silence fell over the three males. Azriel felt his heart shatter, pieces of it falling deep into his gut, turning it over and making him uneasy.

“If anyone doesn’t deserve this it’s me.” Azriel whispered.

“Don’t,” Cassian warned.

Rhys continued softly. “When they believe that, they inadvertently shield themselves from feeling anything… including a bond even if it does exist. A defense mechanism of sorts.”

The body protecting itself from heartbreak so painful that it registered it as a physical ailment. Azriel was going to be sick.

He couldn’t believe the love of his life felt that way. He wondered for how long she’d lived with such a belief, how long she’d been giving him her love while accepting none of his. He wanted to tear down the mountains around Velaris, move them, raise them, turn them to dust, anything he could manage to get her to believe him when he told her he loved her.

He barely felt he deserved her at all. It made him queasy with devotion and grief that she loved him enough to ever think she was the undeserving one.

Azriel was so far past worrying that she did not feel the mating bond anymore. All he cared about was making sure she knew she was loved by him in a way that brought him to his knees.

Her second favorite part of the year after Winter Solstice: Starfall.

Elaine spent most of the day in the kitchen with Nuala and Cerridwen. Mor, Feyre, Nesta sat on her bed, lounging on the expansive mattress before it was time to get ready for the party.

While everyone else had their dresses picked out, she was still between options.

“Okay, option one.” She stepped out from behind the dressing screen, twirling dramatically in a golden trumpet dress that shimmered like woven sunlight.

Mor howled and Nesta smirked in satisfaction.

She turned to look into the mirror and study her body. She felt her heart palpitate as her mind immediately dared to wonder what Azriel would think. Would he like it? She shook my head quickly to clear the thoughts. It didn’t matter what he thought anyway.

Feyre sat back, tilting her head with a look in her eyes she couldn’t quite place. “It’s not bad. I caught a glimpse of the other gown earlier…” The ends of her mouth curled upwards.

The second dress was her personal favorite too. A silk, dark navy sheath that hung from her curves elegantly. It shimmered of silver and lavender under the light like the stars had been gathered from the sky and threaded into the material, one by one.

“Yes.” All three chanted at the same time as soon as she walked out again, clad in the dress that looked like it had been made only for her. There was no room for theatrics as her best friends gazed approvingly.

She did not need to look in the mirror to know this is the dress she wanted to wear. After all, she loved the color blue.

The rest of the girls got ready before she did. She went back and forth on hairstyles and makeup multiple times. Nuala and Cerridwen were more than patient, as were her friends who all waited downstairs for her before they’d leave for the House of Wind together.

“This is as good as it will get, I suppose,” She looked in the mirror one final time before descending the stairs that led to the living room below.

As soon as she neared the middle of the stairs, a shadow slipped around her ankle and up her bare arm, sending goosebumps in its wake. It slipped back down her arms gently, like a lover’s admiring touch, and down the stairs again.

Azriel was the first to turn. His senses were always tuned to her without his knowledge or deliberate effort. Her presence was like a beacon in his darkness. A lighthouse to his boat on treacherous waters. He could sense her in a crowded room in a heartbeat just by the way his heart would pound and his skin would warm.

Their eyes locked and he felt a pull in his chest. Almost with a start, he realized it wasn’t even the mating bond, though it also hummed within him. Even despite the mating bond, tender yearning filled his chest at the sight of her standing at the bottom of the stairs now. Pure love. The Cauldron blessed him this one time, perhaps the only time it ever would, giving him the mate it did. Yet he knew, especially in that moment as he drank in the sight of her glowing skin, shy smile, and deep eyes, he would love her even if they were not bound together in this way. He knew he’d choose her over and over and over again. He’d give anything to have her look at him the way she was right now, forever.

Still, Azriel’s heart wrenched as he recalled why she couldn’t feel the mating bond– this thing that crooned and moaned, twisted and sung, wrenched and wrested to be felt by the only other person in the world who it belonged to, not understanding why it hit a wall everytime it tried to reach out to its other half. His other half.

Something like pride came over Azriel as he noticed everyone else stop and stare. Their friends welcomed her with hugs and kisses and compliments and he watched her be loved and by all of their friends. He wanted to say something as their eyes met again. What would he say first? Azriel had a waterfall of words teetering at the tip of his tongue, flowing straight from the pits of his heart, but supposed telling her she was beautiful was a good start.

But before he could say anything, Mor gathered her and Elaine into her arms before winnowing them to the House. Feyre, Nesta, and Amren followed them a second later.

Cassian clapped Azriel on the shoulder, a rare, soft smile on his lips. “Don’t waste another day, brother.”

With Varian uncomfortably nestled in Cassian arms, they were off to the House too.

The celebration was grand as usual. Food and drink flowed from every corner of the room and everyone danced without a second to rest.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She danced with her friends for the longest time; Mor swirled her around the room and Nesta challenged her to keep up.

He stayed within the chattering crowd that boxed in the dance floor, sipping mulled wine and adjusting a fine thread on his jacket every now and again.

She excused herself from Nesta’s ceaseless dancing for some air. Her face was flushed, body warm, but she was happy. Once she reached the doors to the balcony and closed them behind her, she reveled in the immediate silence that followed.

The night air was cool on her flushed skin, the wind a caressing and most welcome touch.

A few minutes later, she heard the balcony door open behind her. Of course she didn’t need to turn around to see who it was. It was the only person that would follow her anywhere, no questions asked.

“Are you quite parched, yet?”

She turned around to find Azriel standing there, tall, broad, and beautiful, with two glasses of mulled wine.

“Quite.” She affirmed with a smile. He walked toward her until they were elbow to elbow, as close as he dared, before handing her the glass. She proposed they toasted to the spirits, who would begin their migration soon, for a safe journey. He obliged.

They sipped their wine in a comfortable silence. Any minute now the show would begin and everyone would move to the main balcony to watch and continue their dancing. This smaller balcony was perfect for just the two of them.

“You look beautiful tonight.” Azriel said as he did not bother to observe the first few stars that crossed the sky in glittery streaks of silver and gold. Next to her, everything else paled in comparison.

Her heart trembled at the compliment. It wasn’t the first compliment he’d given her, far from it, but coming from him they always meant so much.

With the wine in her system, accompanied with whatever was in Cassian’s flask when it was offered to her an hour ago, she said. “I wore this dress for you.”

The choice of color was not lost on him. The next few stars that soared across the sky caused his inky blue siphons to glisten in their glittery light. A perfect match to her silk.

“It suits you.” Azriel hated that his heart was hammering like this. He felt the love in his chest hum like a magnet, the bond snap like a rubber band against his lungs, stealing their air.

She didn’t say anything, only turned to look at him and he did not back away from her eye contact. Only returned it with such intensity that they now spoke with their eyes, a conversation that could never be expressed with mere words, an exchange between soulmates that remained only between them, not even the sky and stars privy to those thoughts.

Before his mind could refuse or reason with him, he closed the gap between the two of them, taking her elbow in his large hands. She allowed him to guide her to his strong body, eager to follow his lead.

His hands dropped to her waist, a respectable distance above her hips, though she would be pleased if he dared to go lower.

“I think about you all the time.” He spoke softly as he drew her as close as she could get. Their bodies were touching, and she was sure he could feel her heart hammering like a bird trying to take flight in a locked cage.

“You don’t,” She whispered as the stars began to rain across the sky in glimmering streams of light. Her mind screamed at her to pull away, to stop before she made a fool of herself. But her body forced her to stay put, to soak in his warmth, the feeling of him against her, to allow herself to indulge in this.

“I do.” His voice was strong, tone resolute. He held her gaze. “I would never lie. Not to you. You are the one thing in my life I would spend the rest of my immortality living for. You’ve captivated me since the moment I met you and if it takes the rest of my life to prove it, I would gladly call it my life’s work. I can’t keep this from you any longer. If that makes me selfish…”

She reached her hand out to cup his jaw. He leaned into it immediately. Her touch was soft against his face and he thought about how nice it would be to stay like this forever.

Starfall was in full effect. Music and laughter from the other balcony was but a distant, muffled, chorus to him and he watched the shine of the raining stars reflect off of her eyes and skin. Like a work of art, he observed. My mate, my mate, my mate, his insides thrummed.

He couldn’t take it any longer. He understood the look in her eyes, the silent permission, the mutual yearning. In an act of mercy, blessing, and loss of control, he slanted his lips over hers, dropping his hands lower on her waist, shifting one to her lower back to support how flush to his body he held her.

She wrapped his arms around his neck, damning the voices in her head telling her none of this was real, that he’d regret it and take it all back in the morning. Deep down she knew even if other men would, Azriel would never. She gave into him, leaned into him, let him in everywhere he demanded it.

She didn’t think about how long she spent in his arms, connected to him like this. Her breath hitched as he felt her squeeze her waist and use the hand that was at the small of her back to travel upward caressingly, taking his time to feel her skin, the dips and planes of her body through the silk, to rest at the back of her neck.

Azriel was so wholly in love he didn’t even have to think about his next move or any kind of thought. Being with her was natural, like second nature.

She pulled away just long enough to breathe, caressing his swollen bottom lip with her thumb as she moved to hold his jaw. He smiled drunkenly at her, watching as she blushed and indulged herself in the feel of his face.

As the stars rained over Velaris in glittering dashes across the perfect canvas of the night sky, she stood with Azriel, holding him as he held her, suddenly keenly aware of what it felt like to be loved by him.

Azriel’s eyes softened in realization, relief, as he felt the hum of the bond break through his chest for the first time in decades. It extended outward freely, like a bird let loose, soaring like the stars in the sky to meet its other half.

She gasped softly as she felt a snap in her chest. A snap that realigned worlds, parted clouds, mended something broken, that marked a shift in time.

She understood.

“Az…” she whispered, almost wanting to not believe it.

He nodded, letting her feel his touch as she worked through the new emotions.

“How long have you known?” She brought her arms down from his neck to hold his hands. His bigger palms enveloped hers easily, warm and strong. Sure.

“Decades.” He shook his head slightly as if it was common sense he’d been in love with her for so long, refusing to break eye contact with her.

“And all this time… you waited? You never– I never thought…”

“I can’t think of anything else I’d want to spend my entire life loving.” He swept a lock of her hair behind her ear to see her better. To remind himself this wasn’t a dream, not this time.

She allowed Azriel to pull her in again, savoring the way his lips tasted, how soft they felt, the way he held her like she’d vanish if he even lifted a finger. It was a grasp that made her want for nothing anymore. Everything she wanted was right here.

“It seems,” she breathed, slightly out of breath after they pulled away again. “I’ve kept you waiting for quite some time.”

“I’d wait any amount of time for you.” He murmured, running his thumb back and forth over the nape of her neck. “I’d do anything.”

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Resident Evil Village characters with a chubby fem s/o

Dating Headcanons (+ Some bonus drabbles for a few)

Including Alcina Dimitrescu, Karl Heisenberg, Donna Beneviento, Salvatore Moreau and Mother Miranda

(Reader is somewhat coquette? Princesscore? Just the dainty feminine type)

Credits to dividers used are on this post.

Rules for requests

If you don't want to send requests through Tumblr, my Instagram is always an option.

Please interact with this post as much as possible, it helps a lot. Thank you <3

A/n: Hi lovelies, Lia here. I'm back after a long time. I hope you enjoy this post and I'll be setting up my schedule soon, I'll be posting once or twice every 1-2 week/s. If you can't tell, purple has always been my theme. I'll add more to these and edit it if I think of more to add. Any mistakes will be corrected upon checking.

This is just me but I love the concept of like a girl who is so sweet and her style just looks so fem and she's just surrounded by all the creepy things that are resident evil.

I'll be checking and if this post does well I will write more.

Warnings/Disclaimers: English is not my first language so please don't come after me. Blood, gore?, violence, typical resident evil stuff and mentions of insecurity. Slight suggestive content if you squint.

Alcina Dimitrescu

First of all despite your plush stature, she still treats you like a porcelain doll.

She just adores you so much (I mean she herself is tall and plus size).

Motherly nature and all, she has three daughters and honestly if she ever sees you interact with them. It would just warm her cadou infested heart.

Insecure about stretch marks? She'll kiss that shit away right then and there. She'll even show you hers because let's be honest here stretch marks are beautiful, you just don't like them on yourself.

Anyone insults or talks shit about you? She'll get rid of them, in any way possible depending on what they said. She'll pick a suitable punishment for them, ranges from "you're fired" to "I'm going to skin you alive and tear your heart out".

Alcina is a confident and dominant figure, she isn't swayed by something so small as beauty standards. Especially in herself, therefore I think she'd even help you build your confidence up.

Gifts galore with this woman, she love to spoil you with her riches. Loves to see you adorned with luxurious items that she give you.

Love dressing up with you, seeing you all dolled up for her. Has custom made clothes for you, sometimes opts for an outfit that matches or contrasts yours perfectly.

Knows what compliments your features best since she loves to bring them out.

Her hosting soirees and balls with you as her special guest, having you wear elegant dresses that she bought for you.

I see her as this almost touchy type. She'll love having you curl up on her lap while she gets paperwork done.

Her reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to her:

You called Alcina's attention wanting to see her reaction to the new dress you bought, Alcina's eyes lit up at your elegance and charm. She smiled warmly, taking your hand in hers. "You look enchanting, my darling," she purred, proud to have you by her side.

Karl Heisenberg

Stinky metal dilf here actually loves that you're so soft in contrast to his gruff and abrasive nature.

He hasn't had physical affection in a long time so having someone soft and warm to hold is new to him.

Karl is naturally protective over you, especially because he thinks you're fragile. I mean compared to whatever's in the village, the rest of the lords and Mother Miranda.

I bet you this man has tore down someone for you, he chopped them off limb by limb for insulting you.

I can't get enough of the dynamic you'd have. It's like the grumpy x sunshine trope, this man has a sharp tongue. Especially when you hear him insult Lady Dimitrescu.

This man has a soft spot for you, I'm pretty sure you're the only one who can make him take a bath after being all sweaty from working with machinery all day.

I feel like he has scars all of his body, especially his very toned back.

Doesn't mind you leaving scratches when you're in the bedroom

Alcina sometimes tries to piss him off by commenting at the fact that you are soft and dainty while Karl is just the opposite and offers you an opportunity to be with "Someone refined" (She ain't wrong).

It really is just to get to Karl's nerves.

His reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to him:

Karl smirked, trying to play it cool, but you could see the admiration in his eyes. "Not bad, princess," he teased, pulling you into a hug. He whispered softly, "You're somethin' special, ya know?"

Donna Beneviento

You know Donna understands what it's like being insecure about looks but to her you're just perfect in every single way.

Donna just doesn't give a shit in a good way, she doesn't judge people based on their appearance. It's dumb and shallow.

Donna would absolutely adore making clothes for you or altering your current ones. It's a skill she's proud of and seeing you appreciate it makes her all the more in love with you.

Angie has made a few comments resulting in her getting kicked off into space but once Donna warms her about that and how you don't like it, she'll stop in respect towards you. Which is rare considering how Angie is.

Donna's personal style definitely helps contrast yours, though it's the opposite from your soft light colors.

Thinks you're so pretty, she's smitten. Even though yours are different from you, she still makes use of her skills to fit your clothing tastes.

I can just imagine her staring at you in awe as you spin around and show her how the dress she made fits you. I like to think she has your measurements memorized from head to toe.

She take one look at something and already know how it would fit on you or if she needs to alter.

You once asked her to make a doll that looks like the both of you (and Angie but like a smaller version that fits the doll's arms).

Donna entered your shared bedroom to find you but noticed something on the shelves. It was the dolls she made sitting against the book. She noticed how you positioned them. Holding hand while the tiny Angie replica was on the doll version of her's lap. Donna swore at that moment she was gonna melt.

Her reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to her:

Donna's expression softened as she saw you in the vintage lace dress. She held your hand, wordlessly conveying her affection and admiration.

Salvatore Moreau

God so help him, he was flabbergasted when he first heard about your insecurity. Literally why? Like you are just the most beautiful thing that walked the planet in his eyes.

He just worships the ground you walk on, he isn't as wealthy as the other lords but still, he give you his best efforts by carving you small trinkets out of wood.

Gifts you natural things he finds like crystals and whatnot.

Best of efforts when he comforts you. Sometimes he's too scared to physically touch you because he thinks he'll hurt you.

You're relationship is filled mostly by nature, despite the wasteland that surrounds your living area. It's hauntingly beautiful in it's own way. (Some of it I suppose)

Feels more at ease around you, think about how much he wanted to just make Mother Miranda proud of him, he's that with you but 10x more the effort.

His reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to him:

Salvatore couldn't contain his delight at seeing you in the dress. "You're my beautiful water nymph princess!" he exclaimed, spinning you around with excitement.

Mother Miranda

You peeked her interest when she first saw you, I mean you're her complete opposite. She finds beauty in dark items and almost gothic stuff, so her taking an interest to you just made her even more curious.

She works a lot so gifts and trinkets to remind you of her are an occasional thing. I can just imagine you taming crows and she's just in awe.

Loyalty of crows means they leave you shiny trinkets and sometimes Miranda takes them for herself when she likes whatever they bring.

Again she's one to think you're fragile because of your style, you just look so cute and soft.

Nobody dares insult you, I mean if you really won the heart of Mother Miranda they are fucked if they even speak a little out of line.

Likes to keep you by her side despite working a lot. So you'd often be by her side during her meetings with the four lords and honestly you are such an eye candy.

Her reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to her:

Mother Miranda's composure remained regal, but her eyes showed approval. "You look exquisite" she acknowledged, holding your hand with reverence. To her, you were a jewel among mortals, deserving of admiration.

[darlingchronicles]

JJ AND THE GOLDEN GIRL HEADCANONS II

pairing: jj x fem!goodgirl!reader

word count:

first part here & based on this and this post that i made. enjoy !!!

What is their favorite photo of with other?

✔︎ jj's favorite photo of him and his golden girl is when they were asleep on the hammock and sarah snapped a shot. she was laid on his chest and her head was buried into the side of his neck with her arms around him and jj head was resting against hers and his arms fully engulfed her waist. a small blanket was laid over them and the sun set in the background. as mentioned in my previous headcanons, he keeps it in his wallet at all times.

ఌ golden girl has so many photos that she loves of jj and her, but one takes the cake. it's one where she and jj had just gotten out of the ocean and dressed in their regular clothes, but their hair is still wet, and they were sitting next to a fire the pogues made on the far side of the beach. her head was on his shoulder, but tilted up so she was looking at him and he was looking down into her eyes. it was night, so the light from the fire made them seem like they were glowing. sarah also took the photo and golden girl framed it and put it on the wall near her bed.

What special thing do they carry with them at all times?

✔︎ well of course jj keeps the photo in his wallet, but he also has a couple of bracelets from her. however, one of his prized possessions is the gum hearts. as stated in the previous headcanon, golden girl is very crafty with her gifts and gave jj a heart made out of gum wrapper. she actually wrote in it. a little note that only said, "hey there criminal". it was so lame that he laughed when he opened it one day and saw it. it's a little of an inside joke because jj's name is jesse-james maybank, after the criminal. it was so stupid, but it makes him laugh.

ఌ for golden girl, she usually has a few things on her, but she adores her bracelet that jj made. he made it by hand (he never told her this, but she could tell by the messy threading and specific mini charms) and personalized it. he gave it to her about a year after they began dating (only a few days before he told her he loved her). he just handed it to her randomly when she was staying over at the chateau. he was so nervous but she loved. she always wears it and only takes it off if she's going into deep water because she doesn't want to risk losing it. one of the charms is a surf board, another is of half a sun and one of her favorites is of flounder from the little mermaid (as mentioned before in part 1, she's scared of sharks). she loves that thing and you can always see her wearing it no matter what.

How does the cut and figure eight react to them?

✔︎ first off, the cut is probably the most surprised at the news of them. it only appears maybe like five or six months into the relationship. they kept it hush hush for a while and eventually didn't care who saw them. multiple pogues saw them going for ice cream together. heyward saw them sailing on "the pogue" a few times, alone. others saw them at the kegger, sitting close to one another and jj's arm was around her. the cherry on top was when they came out of the ocean from surfing and he gave her a kiss (ON THE MOUTH???) and the news spread like wildfire. everyone had questions about how it began and shit like that. but it was the excited type of questions. separately, they ask the couple if they're together. jj's only response is "yeah, for a time now" in a lighthearted tone and golden girl's response is "yes, we are!" in a very cheerful tone. honestly the cut was so surprised, but they're honestly for it. with their responses, it seemed like the two were very much falling in love and by the way jj looked at her, the man was a goner and based on her smiles, she was half-way in love already. (everyone knew they were endgame at this point and any other secret suitors resigned) there were some skeptics and some who didn't believe they'd last long, but when they heard how long they've already been together, it crushed all of it. they didn't expect it, but they're kind of the cut's IT couple now. famous, i'm telling you.

ఌ the more judgmental pack is the kooks, aka figure eight. golden girl is known there because she works at the club restaurant as the hostess and she has a pretty good rep there too. heck she has a great rep everywhere. she is the golden girl after all. smiley and shiny. a bright future. the sun personified. (she'd argue but go on) so when they find out that she is dating jj maybank, the bus boy and absolute troublemaker of the cut, they're all fla-ber-gas-ted. like they all blink in confusion. and the only way the kooks found out was about a month after the cut found out and jj and golden girl went to a kegger together and ended kissing near the bonfire. kooks saw, told their friends, who told their friends, who told their parents and BAM! wildfire. some kids were actually really confused and some even tried to "warn" her about getting with a kid "like maybank". she had half a mind to flip them off but all she said was "i think i'm smart enough to make my own choices. thank you" and continued on with her day. she saw the judgment whenever they passed by each other at work and she knew it'd be a while before things went back to how they were at the restaurant. jj had the sharp end of the sword as he physically saw and heard the judgment from the kooks as if they knew her more than him. some of it kind of got to him, but he eventually over heard golden girl telling off some kook boys to leave her and jj the hell alone before she taught them how to shut their mouths. politely. but yeah that's what she said. eventually everything calm down, but figure eight isn't really their biggest fans.

How did their friends react to them?

✔︎ the pogues were really surprised that jj was capable of capturing her heart, but not surprised that they got together. she'd been part of the pogues for a while before they got together. even then, they saw the goo goo eyes and smiles and secret touches here and there and had bets placed. sarah won nearly every side bet, but pope won the last one about who kissed who first. they're for it honestly. they know that she makes jj really happy and he's more devoted to her than any other girl he's ever taken a look at and they know that golden girl would never hurt jj and that she's been in love with him for a while and they know they are made for each other. so very supportive.

ఌ golden girl is actually friends with a few kooks and they were very...ehhhh on the matter. they nearly choked when they heard and ask if the rumors were true. she said yes and they just shared a look. they warned her (like every damn kook on the island she was associated with one way or another) about how jj was and how they heard he was and just told her to rethink it or be careful. they continued on with that train for a while before she told them shut up or else she'd stop hanging out with them. (she's not friends with most of them anymore). however her pogue friends were very happy for her and admire them anytime they're around. again, bets were made and paid.

When did they know they were in it for the long run?

✔︎ the idea actually popped up in jj's head a few times, but he always pushed it aside or ignored it. i mean...being for someone for the long run? like marriage? and kids and a house. i mean, he's too young to even think about that right? i mean it's not possible to know right away? is it? he'd never thought about getting married beforehand. marriage was a wreck for anyone who got involved and it was like tying a noose around your finger, right? that's what he thought. and then she'd smile at him like he was her world and he made it spin on its axis. then she'd give him a little gift he never asked for and she wouldn't even ask for a thank you. then she'd give him a lecture about being reckless, but eyes just tell him that she's terrified something would happen to him. the one time he actually let the thought in was around their first year anniversary when they went surfing and ended up on the beach late at night with no one around. she was pressed up against his chest, sleeping with a few blankets over them and a smile fire burning to keep them warm. he glances down at her and there's something that glows within him that just tells him. for the first time, he thinks about marriage and being with her when he's old and gray and...it doesn't scare him for the first time. that thought alone leads to the first "i love you" only weeks later.

ఌ she's thought about it before. i mean, golden girl has watched rom-coms before, so she has thought about marriage. she'd hope to break the whole generation curse one day and be with someone she loves rather than for money or an accidental pregnancy. it's a wish in her. she does have the desire to marry one day, but she wants it to be for the right reasons. she's more into long-term relationships rather than hook ups or "situationships" because of the fear she'll be used like the women in her family before. so when jj came around and she actually let him in, she knows there's something special there. she thought about it here and there, but she always told herself that when she knows, she'll know. and that moment came around when she and jj were hanging out in her room about nine months in. her parents were out and jj snuck in and stayed for the night. they had played a game of uno, which she beat him at 3 times in a row, and received the reward of him telling her she was the best and amazing at everything (all in a playful manner, she demanded it) and when he won, he claps his hands in a taunting manner and went straight for her. she fell back and he caught her in his arms and pressed a passionate kiss to her lips and she swore she felt her heart skip two beats. when he pulled away, simply to press his lips to her cheek and request a game of cards to beat her at (still riding on the win) when she realize that she could do that forever. play games with cards and monopoly boards and win rewards of kisses and praise for the rest of her life. and the way jj smiled at her when she said she'd kick his ass at anything else, she knew it had to be him. (she knew he felt the same way before he knew).

What is their go-to and favorite date plans?

✔︎ jj is a simple guy. he doesn't need much. if he really wanted to have some alone time and take her out, he'd take her out for a drive to the beach, walk around, talking about everything and nothing before going to get an ice cream and ending the night watching the sunset. his favorite date plans is going surfing or staying on the pogue for the entire day and just be in each other's company.

ఌ golden girl understands that she and jj are busy people. busy bees. if they both had some time in-between their breaks or even after work for some time (or any time for that matter) her go-to suggestion is to sit outside or inside (probably the beach) and play a game of cards with two soda cans sitting next to them. it's quick and easy and they always have a good time. because of this, she and jj always have a stack of cards with them. her favorite date, however, is whenever the carnival or a festival comes near the mainland and they go together and just have fun. close second and most common one is introducing jj to all her favorite movies, musicals and series. (she got him hooked on money heist and gilmore girls, but he'll only watch it with her).

What is the favorite physical and non-physical trait of theirs they love?

✔︎ for jj, his favorite physical trait of hers is her eyes. she's so expressive in her eyes and if he needed to know anything, he'd just have to look into her eyes. she can say one thing, but the eyes tell another. he now believes in the whole "eyes are the windows to the soul" saying. (to be not so wholesome because it's jj duh, he really likes her chest. what can i say? he just likes the girls). his favorite non-physical trait is her ability to try and see the good in everything and everyone: aka her compassion. he knows it's hard for her to do that sometimes and he can see how she wants to be negative, but she tries her hardest to bring joy to others and to herself. she wants everyone to be happy because that's what she wants for herself (and sometimes she doesn't get it). jj doesn't really accept the fact that he's a cause of her happiness and joy, but he feels happy knowing he is.

ఌ for the golden girl, her favorite physical trait of jj is his hair. especially his wet hair when he just exited the sea and he shake it a bit out get the water out. *chef kiss* she also likes to play with it and toy around with it when she's watching tv or when jj is a little stressed, she likes to pass her hand over his hair. it works actually. (to not be so wholesome, his arms and back just make her drool and make her eyes roll back into her head, but you didn't hear it from me) her favorite non-physical trait is his loyalty. i've touched upon this in my last headcanon i think??? but he is loyal to the end. like it's actually this man's fatal flaw. she could be wrong or right, but jj is by her side. honestly her hype man. she's really happy to know he'd go search the entire world just for her.

What specific physical touch do they secretly like?

✔︎ jj is a sucker for back scratches. it's just a thing he found out he liked. he and golden girl were laying in jj's bed at the chateau, mumbling as the clock began to tick closer and closer to two in the morning. he was laying on top of her, head nuzzles into her neck. jj sleeps on his stomach, so golden girl had to learn how to not get crushed by him as she realized it was non-negotiable for him. she was mumbling something about school and jj was just responding with hums as sleep began to overtake him and she began to drag her nails up and down his bare back softly. jj is actually so embarrassed by how obsessed he became with it. if she stops, he'll whine until she gives in. if she begins, she cannot stop until she falls asleep or jj falls asleep or they have to get up. jj could go hours with her just scratching his back. he doesn't care how hard or soft she does it, just likes it (he does have a little fantasy about it, but it's only a fantasy for now lol)

ఌ golden girl really likes it when jj just holds her, whether in her room, his room at the chateau, or the hammock, she likes to curl up in jj's arms and have him hold her. sometimes she needs it because of all the stress on her. she specifically likes it when he talks to her, regardless if she'll respond. it's in his softest voice (he would never admit it to anyone and if she ever mentioned it someone (she hasn't), he'd deny it because why would she try and out him like that????) and he'll just mumble sweet nothings in her ears and sometimes she'll fall asleep because of it. she likes it a lot. (and just to out her a little, she's actually kind of interested in jj's soft voice in other types of scenarios if you catch my drift) but yeah she loves jj holding her and paying attention to her and only her in those moments?

How needy are they?

✔︎ if this man ever says he's not needy, he's lyingggggg. jj is an attention seeker at heart and he wants her attention at nearly all times. he just loves the attention and will do the most stupid stuff to gain it. once he waved her over just to show her he could do a handstand. she eventually caught the pattern of this, but she still goes over to him whenever he calls her. she likes that she's wanted by him. she thought he'd get use to it, but nope. this man is still as obsessed with her attention as always. as for physically, this man got a taste of physical touch after being touch starved (romantically at least) and he's never gone back. a hand on her back, hand in hand, hugging her, arm around her shoulder, etc, etc. he's always touching her if he can.

ఌ she admits it. she likes his attention. A LOT. she wouldn't say she's needy, but she really likes it when he's paying attention to her and only her. golden girl captures his attention in different ways. she'll fiddle with his hands or his hair or just call him over so he can sit next to her. she's heading towards jj-level obsessed at some points. physically however? she's right there with jj. hand on his knee, rubbing his back with her hand as he talks, fiddling with whatever jewelry he has on, stroking his jaw with her thumb, hugging him, etc. neither of them really care what everyone else thinks, but they never go beyond this to make sure others are comfortable in some aspects. since they're not there yet, this is as far as it goes for now (john b and sarah on the other hand are...well...they're not very quiet....lol)

Favorite nicknames?

✔︎ little lady, princess, flounder, sunflower, goody-two shoes, wormy, grumpelstiltskin

ఌ blondie, j, sunshine, pretty boy, criminal, giraffe, surfer boy, sleeping beauty

thedarlinglore: i love jj and golden girl so much. like it's actually an obsession. and there is more come!!! a fic is coming soon, but hey, we have more headcanons. i am thinking about blackcat!reader, but we'll see. requests are also open i hope you enjoyed and see you in the next one. love you, my darlings <3

➣ my last "jj" work | "oh schroeder" ➣ more concepts | jj maybank

[world0fmadness]

FIRE MELTS ICE

kimi raikkonen x cky / jackass member! reader

♡ general dating headcanons for kimi with a member of cky and jackass!

୨୧ decided to make this just the dating era, i might do a part two following along the smau more with them getting married and having their kids if you guys want it! this takes place between 2001 and 2007 <3

♡ related smau available here | view my formula 1 masterlist here

reading music recommendations: rio bravo by cky - come to daddy by aphex twin - right here in my arms by him

♡ you guys met in 2001 when you were both 21!

୨୧ you had been a member of cky / jackass from the very beginning, having grown up with with bam and ryan <3 you got the nickname “ fireass ” because of all the times you’ve had your ass set on fire ( usually by bam )

♡ you’re like three peas in a pod, only ever seeing each other as siblings

୨୧ supposedly, some of the people from mtv had made a deal with some guys in f1 about being able to shoot some stunts with the cars but when you and the guys arrived it seems there had been some kind of HUGE misunderstanding…

♡ while mtv people were arguing with f1 people ( you really didn’t care enough to get their names ) you wandered off to have a look around, not wanting to just stand around watching some people argue

୨୧ you run into kimi somewhere in the paddock, locking eyes with him would usually make anyone else look away almost immediately but you held his icy gaze with your own fiery stare

♡ you don’t believe in all that “ love at first sight ” talk but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel like something clicked into place on your heart when you saw him

୨୧ and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t get the exact same feeling…

♡ so you approached each other, him asking what you were up to here and you asking if he listens to aphex twin or bloodhound gang

୨୧ before long bam finds you and decides to do what he does best… which is torment you with a taser and handheld camera!

♡ to say kimi was confused as to what the hell was happening would be an understatement…

“ what the hell are you doing? why did you do that do her? are you insane? ” ( he had no idea who the hell you guys were and literally thought bam was just some insane guy assaulting you, all the while bam was laughing his ass off at you clutching your tased ass cheek )

୨୧ but you left with his number and he left with yours so hey, you’d say it was worth it

♡ you guys begin dating super quickly, you’re both confident and outgoing people who aren’t afraid to speak their mind and there’s clearly a connection between you two so why waste time?

୨୧ so you don’t waste time and begin officially dating after just one date :)

♡ there were DEFINITELY some rumours going around in the mid 2000’s that you were actually dating ville or you were cheating on kimi with ville

୨୧ some people going even further and saying you were actually in a throuple with ville and kimi

♡ the gossip magazine titles got real creative with the headlines when those rumours started… so many corny lines about how they’re both finnish so that must mean you have a type and a bunch of other stupid shit

୨୧ you ran with the joke for a short time, your nickname changing from “ fireass ” to “ finnisher ” y’know, because you supposedly make two finns finish? god, it was so stupid

♡ you were never dating ville, obviously, you were more like siblings with both him and bam and you were happier than ever with kimi! the only members you ever did anything with was dico, rake and chris ( not pontious ) and those were simple pecks for the camera!

୨୧ and kimi knows not to worry, he’d never been the jealous or insecure type, he has no problem speaking his mind if he feels something isn’t right

♡ kimi absolutely loves to watch you skate in the parking lot of your apartment complex!

୨୧ he thinks you’re so damn good and should’ve gone pro… whenever you fuck up and get a really bad scrape, he’s always gently asking if you’re good before coming over to help you up and make sure you don’t snap your skateboard in half, knowing you’d regret it later…

♡ you’re forever thankful that you fell in love with someone as unbothered as kimi

୨୧ you usually come home from a day of filming smelling like a disgusting combination of vomit, alcohol, gasoline and cigarettes…

♡ you always apologise to kimi for the smell ( despite knowing he really doesn’t care all that much ) before heading to the bathroom to brush your teeth and take a hot shower

୨୧ but he’s hot on your tail, following you into the bathroom and watching you undress from the doorway… when you hop into the shower, he moves from his spot in the doorway, getting undressed and getting in with you

♡ he doesn’t talk much, it’s mainly you asking about what he was up to while you were gone and him answering! only sometimes asking you similar questions about the stunts you did

୨୧ he washes your hair for you, his hands surprisingly gentle, mindful of any tangles

“ tilt your head back more, kulta… that’s it ” ( he acts like getting some water in your eyes would hurt you more than any of the stunts you’ve done before )

♡ small things like this were common between you, a show of love and care <3

୨୧ when bam made haggard, he obviously wanted you to have a character in it and so you did! but it wasn’t just you, oh no…

♡ why would bam miss the opportunity to get an f1 driver in his film? he’d be a fool to not beg you to ask kimi for an appearance in the film as your character’s boyfriend

୨୧ kimi agreed but ONLY for you <3 his appearance was much shorter than yours but bam was happy with it and it would go down in the books as a nice piece of semi obscure f1 lore

♡ people know whenever kimi has brought to with him to a race because the only thing they hear coming from his drivers room is him, bloodhound gang, cky and gnarkill…

୨୧ you actually convert kimi into being a huge fan of these bands, he already liked that type of music anyways but he didn’t listen to those bands before he got with you! you make him so many burned CDs

♡ whenever kimi is with you while you’re filming for jackass and perform a particularly nasty stunt, the cameraman LOVES to pan over to kimi, capturing his face which wears a slight frown and a scrunched nose <3

୨୧ when ryan did the toy car up the ass stunt, he made sure it was an f1 car, just to add some irony to the situation as you were the one giving him advice on how to get it up there ( kimi was NOT impressed with the joke )

♡ something that happens on the regular is f1 journalists calling in on radio bam, hoping to get the latest scoop on the cars and drivers from you… as if you know anything about the cars?

୨୧ of course, you entertain them for a minute or two, feeding them fake stories about how all of the drivers actually despise each other and they’re feuding… you know they won’t mind!

♡ but when you get bored, you quickly dive into a deeply detailed description of yours and kimi’s sex life, giving them only the dirtiest details

୨୧ they always hang up, it’s a guarantee <3 usually kimi is listening in at home or even sitting in the studio with you, just gazing at you with a tiny, sly smirk on his face

♡ you and kimi are both very laidback souls!

୨୧ most of your free days are spent in your shared apartment, laid on the couch together, your legs over his lap whilst you watch a horror movie

♡ oh how you love your iceman…

[forestkniight]

Quitting I.M.P.

So... this is my first post on Tumblr! I'm not sure if I formatted everything correctly, but I hope it's somewhat readable! I decided I would go a bit tame on my first post since it's also been a long while since I've written anything for fun, but I hope y'all enjoy!!

Pairing: Blitz x Reader

Warning: Swearing

Word Count: 1.8K

You felt the anger boiling over as you and the other I.M.P. crew crossed into Hell from where you were on Earth. 

It was supposed to be a simple mission. Kill some cheating husband or something of the sort. It should have been a quick in and out, and to be fair, it was. That’s not what bothered you. 

For the past couple of missions, Blitz had taken away your chance to kill anyone. Every time you set up to kill the target, he would swipe in and kill them first, or he would have Millie or Moxxie take care of it. You knew you were one of the more recent additions to this business, but you had done more than prove yourself working with them in the first few weeks. It pissed you off, and this time around wasn’t any different. 

You were packing away your lunch quickly as you tried your best to mask your frustration and anger. 

“Are you good? You look like you want to bite off someone’s head,” Loona said as she took notice of how hard you were clutching your bag. 

“Just peachy,” you muttered as you began heading out. 

Luck, however, was not on your side as you remembered that the entire crew was supposed to go out for drinks that night. 

“Took you long enough, (Y/N)! The fuck were you doing anyways,” Blitz asked as you stepped back into the main lobby. 

You had to fight off a snarl that threatened to come out. Both Millie and Moxxie noticed something was wrong since your sweet demeanor was nowhere to be found. You took a breath before responding.

“I was packing up my stuff for the night,” you calmly responded, ensuring your emotions weren’t showing. You knew leaving it all pent up would end up bubbling over, but it hadn’t happened yet.

“You could just leave it here! Drinks are on me tonight!” 

You clutched your bag tighter and saw Moxxie looking back and forth between you and Blitz. 

Moxxie was the only one who knew about your crush on your boss because he happened to find you drunk at a bar one time and wanted to make sure you got home safe. Boy had you spilled a lot of information about your feelings that night. Luckily for you, Moxxie wasn’t the meddling type, though he did encourage you to tell Blitz how you felt. 

“Respectfully, sir, I’m really tired, and I just want to go home,” you said with a bit more hostility than you meant to.

The crew looked at you, confused. 

“Maybe we can do this another-“ Moxxie tried to interject, but Blitz interrupted him.

“The fucks got your panties in a twist?” 

You felt your eye twitch as Moxxie cringed. 

“I don’t know SIR. How about the fact that these past few clients we’ve had, you’ve managed to take the opportunity from me to kill them,” you spit out in exasperation. 

“Are you fucking serious right now,” Blitz moved closer to you, “You’re getting paid regardless. Why the fuck does it matter?” 

You clenched your fist tighter but stayed firm where you stood.

“I didn’t join this fucking business just to stand around and look pretty asshole!” 

You saw Blitz’s eye widen at the curse word since he wasn’t used to hearing it come from your mouth. 

“If you think I’m shit at my job, then fucking fire me or tell me what I’m doing wrong,” you yelled at him.

He remained speechless before you saw his expression change.

“Maybe I fucking should! At least someone who is actually pretty to look at, just in case, you bitch!” Blitz yelled in your face.

The silence that followed was extremely tense, as you and Blitz were suddenly very much in each other’s space. You felt your heart completely break, and Moxxie saw the quick, pained expression you couldn’t hide before becoming stoic. 

“Sir, that was uncalled for. They are highly skilled at their job. It would be a mistake-“ 

“No, you know what Moxxie? You heard it from the boss himself,” you laughed mirthlessly, cutting Moxxie off.  

You backed away from Blitz and picked up the bag you had dropped at some point during the screaming match. You began walking towards the door. Moxxie tried to stop you, but one stare showed that you weren’t fucking around. You heard Blitz sigh behind you.

“(Y/N), wait-“ Blitz started as you turned around quickly with your hand on the door handle.

“No, Blitz. I’ll make this easier for you. I fucking quit. Find someone better than me in all aspects,” you say harshly. 

You couldn’t help the tears that were pooling. Blitz’s eyes softened when he noticed, but you didn’t see it. You were ready to go, so you pushed open the door.

“You can’t just quit like that! On such short fucking notice! I can’t find someone that fucking quick,” Blitz yelled.

You couldn’t hear the desperation in his voice, only that he was yelling at you. 

“Don’t fucking yell at me! This business is no longer my fucking problem! God, I can’t believe I ever had feelings for you,” you scream at him as you walk out the door and slam it behind you. 

You were unaware of the chaos you left behind when that door closed.

~~

It had been a week since you quit I.M.P.

Luckily, you were wiser with your paychecks than Blitz, so you had enough to tide you over while you searched for a new job. 

Everyone except Blitz had come to visit you separately. The first and shortest visit was Loona. You had forgotten your favorite necklace in the office and begged her to drop it off. 

When she arrived, she was surprised to see you in disarray. Your hair was slightly messy, your eyes puffy, and you hadn’t changed out of your PJs. It was the day after, and you were utterly heartbroken. 

“Thanks, Loona,” you whispered as you took your favorite necklace back.

“No problem. Blitz saw me leaving with it, though. Moxxie managed to step in before he could reach me. Not like I would have handed it to him anyway.” 

There wasn’t much conversation before she decided to return to the office.

The following person to visit was Millie. Luckily, she saw you in a better state than Loona did, but your eyes hadn’t lost their puffiness. 

“Me and Mox miss you, (Y/N). It’s not the same without you,” Millie said as she passed you a pint of ice cream. 

“Right…”

“I’m serious! We know you’re good at killing, but you were also fun on the field!” Millie looked at you, and you knew she was being genuine. You thanked her, and she stayed with you that night, watching many movies. 

The last person to visit was Moxxie, who had much more to say.

“I’m sorry (Y/N), but what made you think that was the best way to confess?” Mox said as he stood right next to you in your bed. 

“It just came out, Mox. I didn’t mean to,” you sighed as you tried to fight off the tears again, “I wanted my words to hurt him as much as he did.”

After speaking those words out loud, you curled into yourself and silently cried. You heard Moxxie sigh.

“(Y/N), I really think you should talk to him,” Moxxie said, something in his tone. 

Still, you didn’t respond.

“I know he can be- “

“Moxxie….I need you to leave,” you said with a tear-filled voice. 

“(Y/N),” Moxxie tried to start again. 

“Please,” you begged. 

“Fine…I’ll be back, though,” he said, sighing. 

You felt a kiss on your head, and a few seconds later, you heard the door close. You let yourself cry and spend the rest of the day in bed.

~~

That was two days ago. You finally had enough and knew the money wasn’t never-ending. You began your job searching, but you weren’t having any luck.

You sighed as you dropped face-first on your couch, trying to forget all the horrible interviews you had been on today. You weren’t a perfect fit for any of the jobs, and you were beginning to wonder if it was worth it to return and get your job back.

You looked at the time and realized that you had been out all day. You decided to change into your comfy pajama shorts and tank top, deciding you weren’t going out anymore. If you were still working at I.M.P., you would have much more to do on a Friday night. 

You turned on the TV, letting it lull you to sleep as you spent another night alone.

~~

You were awoken at 1 AM by knocking on the door. You groaned as you wondered who could be waking you up at this hour. Moxxie did say he would be back, but you didn’t think it’d be in the dead of night. You yanked the door open, speaking before processing who stood before you.

“Damn it, Mox, I was slee-“ You cut off your words when you realized it wasn’t Moxxie in front of you, but Blitz.

You moved to shut your door again, but he shoved his foot in the door frame before pushing the door open and inviting himself in.

“That’s fucking rude,” Blitz said harshly as he took a look around your apartment.

“Says the asshole who’s inside an apartment that he wasn’t invited into,” you spat back at him. 

You saw Blitz roll his eyes and turn back to face you fully. You avoided his eye contact as you walked to your kitchen to get a drink of water. You heard the clicks of Blitz’s boots as he followed you.

As you filled your cup, you tried to think of what to say, but luckily, you wouldn’t have to.

“Can we talk?” 

“There’s nothing to talk about, Blitz,” you said as you moved past him to walk to your bedroom, “I don’t work for you anymore.”

“Christ on a stick (Y/N), can you stop being a bitch for 5 seconds,” Blitz told you as you set your water down on your nightstand.

“Get the fuck out of my room! No, out of my house,” you yelled, walking towards him, having half a mind to toss him out. 

“No, not until we fucking talk,” Blitz said as he closed your bedroom door and walked towards you.

“I’ve already said there’s nothing to talk about,” you yelled in exasperation.

“Fucking fine,” Blitz yelled back. 

You watched him turn to your door, hand on the handle. You were confused as to why he wasn’t leaving.

“Are you waiting for an invitation, Blitz!? Get the fuck out,” you began walking towards him again. 

“Fuck this shit,” you heard him mutter before he abruptly turned around.

You had no time to react before Blitz pulled you into him and kissed you hard. You let out a squeak of surprise, and Blitz used this to deepen the kiss. After the initial surprise, you began kissing back. The kiss was desperate, your teeth clashing and your pulse rising significantly.

You had no idea this was where the night would take you.

I hope that was fine! Please bear with me as I try to get used to Tumblr (and forgive any formatting errors)!

Also, please always let me know if I forgot to tag a warning!

[amoristt]

Grazing the Fire | VI

yippee!!!!!!

reblogs + tags and replies will make my entire day as i put a lot of effort into this :)!

story continues beneath the read more. let me know if you can’t access it!

warnings: language

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-----

The bat is heavy and demanding in your hands. Your mind races behind your eyes- a million concerns shrouding you. What was he going to have you do? You’d seen Nathan do some pretty heinous shit when he was bored, so what exactly constituted fun for him? You roll the bat in your palms, scanning over the chips and cracks in the weathered wood. A part of you worried that this was going to be some sort of hit-man crap- like now that you’d ventured into the next tier of his friendship pyramid he was going to bring you into his bad dealings. He turns to look at you and the sun catches on the expensive camera nestled in his hands. 

All you can offer is a lopsided, unsure smile. 

He guides you deep into the heart of that junkyard, a maze chock full of broken down appliances and soda cans dotted with pellet gun holes. For the first time since summer had begun to settle into shrill fall, you were grateful for the chillness in the air. God, it would have stunk, all those mounds of trash just baking in the heat. 

A sharp, popping echo of glass breaking has you leaping nearly a whole foot in the air, and you whip around with a harsh glare at the source of the sound. Of course, of course it’s Nathan. He’d set his camera down on a tipped over fridge and made quick work to whip brown beer bottles at the ground. With every toss they explode into glittering shards, and you twitch every single time. 

“Would you chill?” He laughs pointedly. “There’s no out here but us.”

“Have I ever been chill?” You grunt, feeling the full weight of the bat in your hands once more.

 “Guess not. Tweaker.” He hauls a microwave up from the ground and settles it on a chest freezer. “Maybe you should take some of that stress out on his bad boy.” He pats it, the metal echoing hollowly, after settling his camera down on an upside down box off to the side. Away from all the danger. 

You swallow. “You want me to hit it?”

“Fucking duh.” 

It takes a long moment for you to consider it. Shifting your weight, feeling your heart rate increase. You never really were the destructive type. 

“Hello?” He waves until your eyes follow his hand. “Come on, hit it! You’ll feel great.”

The microwave's door hangs limply, threatening to fall at any moment. “I fail to see how this is going to make all my troubles go away.”

Nathan couldn’t roll his eyes any harder than he had in that instant. In a moment’s notice, he’s beside you, and then he’s behind you, close enough you can feel his chest clasping over your back. Your instinct is hard- shoving yourself forward despite the raging heat that instantly rose to your cheeks. To your surprise, Nathan doesn’t allow you. He’s quicker than you, grabbing the bat and keeping you in place. Trapped. You’re once more reminded of his height, the inches he has over you. And how those little noodle arms of his hide some serious power.

“Dude, what the hell,” You manage with a surprisingly even voice. 

“Like this.” He drags your arms high over head. There’s a moment where they linger above your head. Your shirt rides up just high enough to feel the breeze over your naval. 

He breathes in, you breathe in. 

He crashes the bat down onto the microwave with you in tow. 

Wood meets metal in an explosive bang and you can feel the exact moment the appliance gives way from underneath the powerful swing. The door clatters to the ground, bolts spring out from every corner, a hefty dent plays right down the center and caves in the empty middle. The vibrations rattle you to your core and sink into your bones, adrenaline greeting every nerve. You blink at the sight of the destruction.

When he laughs, deep and full, you do too.

“See what I’m talking about!” He cheers, and you do. He’s moving like he’s on air now, light on his feet as he backs away and motions towards the microwave once again. “Do it again! Come on, imagine it’s fucken- uhhh,” He taps his forehead, brows drawn together. “Fucken- you know! Those two bitches!”

“April and May?” You blink at him, still feeling laughter dancing on your tongue. When he nods, you chuckle. “I don’t wanna kill them, Nathan.”

“Okay then,” He rubs his face before it lights up suddenly. “Oh! Those two fucks that stole your book of whatever the fuck that whole thing was!”

An unpleasant memory drags through the forefront of your mind. Trying to relax at the fountain, having your very private artbook ripped from your hands and tossed around like it was nothing. The nasty things they said to you. Yeah- you could definitely give those two a whack. Or three.

You’re rearing up and crashing that bat back down before your mind can catch up with your body. More bolts rattle out of the metal frame, and when you swing once more, you relish in the way it cracks under the force. The microwave teeters off the edge before it plummets to the dirt and damn near shatters from the abuse. Coils, shreds of plastic and metal are confetti around its remains. 

Nathan whistles when he peeks over the edge at the sight. 

“I always knew you had that in you. Maybe you didn’t need me that day after all.”

He says it so offhandedly. Quick, mindless. But it rocks you in a strange way that’s hard to place. Mostly because you definitely did need Nathan that day. And also because for just a second you’re launched back to the first moment you saw a glimpse of something other than just vitriolic hate in him. He had stood between you and those two boneheads, unmoving and unwavering. 

All for you. Even though you didn’t realize it at the time. 

“Give it.” He says, arms outstretched. You offer the bat with just the slightest reluctance and he takes it, gets to work without a second thought. z

He nails the tipped over fridge, drives dents into the thick metal over and over again until it craters like the moon. He howls, he laughs like it’s a performance. You step back when he picks up more beer bottles from the ground and lines them up on the fridge, struggling to stand them upright on the dipping surface. When they’re set and ready to go, he swings, hard, and glass launches in all directions as he tears through the line. 

“That’s what I’m fucking talking about!” He cheers. He tosses you the bat and it slams into your chest before you manage to catch it. While you’re getting your bearings back, he’s stacking more bottles. “Your turn.”

You feel those similar nerves rising your chest, unignorably and bubbling, but you step up to the plate anyways. Those slotted eyes follow your every move, all the way from you rearing back and to the very moment you swing with everything you’ve got. 

When you miss, you feel the air leave your lungs. The bat glides right above them, just merely an inch away, but a miss nonetheless. Oh, how Nathan laughs at you. He doubles over and everything, chest heaving with every breath. You cringe so hard it feels like you could die. 

“Keep laughing and I’m gonna hit you next!” 

“Go on, killer.” He motions for the bottles once more, snickering. While you get into position, you can hear him faintly chuckling to himself, likely replaying the moment over and over again in his head.

Running for redemption, you put your back into your swing once more. The bat collides with the bottles so satisfyingly it makes you shiver. It glides through the line like they’re nothing, and the impact sends bursting sprays of glass everywhere the eye could see. It feels so good- feels right deep in your chest. Your shoulders are loose, your heart is light. You laugh and you grin at the man before you like you’d known him your entire life. 

And he grins right back with visible pride. A mentor, a guide to your unmannerly behavior. 

“Okay, I see what you mean now.” Your voice is fast, breathy. “That’s fucking awesome.”

“That’s nothing, light work.” Nathan rummages through his pockets and pulls out a red and white box. He draws a cigarette out, settles it in between his fingers, lights it like a professional. He draws in a captivating breath before it leaves him in a plume of gray.

He reaches out, offers it to you. Though you hesitate, you ultimately decline. 

But you do make a mental note of the day Nathan Prescott tried to share his precious cigarettes with you, a lowly no one in the eyes of Blackwell Academy. There’s something beautiful in the moment, the way the sun catches and glitters off the mounds of shattered glass and broken metal. The clouds dragging over the vibrant sun and the breeze swaying through the many piles of forgotten trash and leaves that were beginning to fade from a true green to a mellow yellow. You may as well have been on top of the world.

Nathan must have felt it too. He plucks his camera up from the box he’d settled it on, routinely boots it up with its hundreds of buttons and takes tasteful snapshots of the evidence of your fun. It prints, see’s daylight for just a moment before he’s shoving it into his back pocket without even sparing a glance. That’s how you knew he was the real deal- he didn’t even have to check. Just knew that it was a good one. A keeper.

The early afternoon draws on just the same. You both work your way deeper into the thick of the junkyard until the piles of garbage are tall enough to box you in, leaving a path of broken glass and metallic shrapnel in your wake. You’re only stopped when you see train tracks yards away, cutting a sharp boundary between the heaping trash piles and green, lush grass. Little ways before the tracks a ramshackle shed-like structure stands with holey walls and what may as well have been a tin roof. Nathan doesn’t pause before he approaches it like you do. Doesn’t have to take in the sight, really absorb the atmosphere. You wonder how many times he’d been in this very spot wasting the day away.

Neon graffiti demands your attention when you’re close enough to see it, cigarettes and crumpled blunt buds seeding the perimeter. A bottle of Jack Daniels rests against the wall, half empty. Nathan drags a puff from his cigarette and toes it with his black shoes, rolls it over and watches the contents spill out with a less than amused expression. The smoke climbs the air hypnotizingly and you watch what you can before it disappears entirely. 

“I haven't been here in years.” He breathes. His voice is low, mellow. Lost in thought and memories. He nudges a snuffed out cigarette on the ground partially buried in dirt. “Before Vic and all the parties and the Vortex Club shit I used to come out here and just chill out.”

You lean the bat on your shoulder, nodding, imagining him all those years ago long before you met him. Before he came the menace on site that was Nathan Prescott. You wondered how he presented himself back then- softer, or perhaps just quieter. A subtle anger that had only really started to fester. He steps into the shed and you follow without a second thought, join him when he leans his boney back against the brick wall and slides down. The interior is overstimulating- dirty, haphazardly decorated with the most college-like shit you’d ever seen. A dart board, stolen road signs, a disgustingly bright yellow tapestry with an elephant etched into the fabric. Streaks of light beam through the gaps of the roof and shine down on a small coffee table. 

You eye the vulgar messages written in black marker while Nathan leans his head back against the wall, huffing out a breath of smoke that makes your nose twitch. Once again, he offers the now half smoked cigarette out to you. 

This time you accept. He doesn't hide the way his lips tug into a smile. The cigarette feels uncannily heavy between your fingers, beckoning you. Your chest feels tight, anxiety rising under your skin for some reason.

“I used to come out here when my dad would chew my ass out.” He rubs his face with the flat palms of his hands, eyes unfocused. “Fucking prick. This one time he made me take this stupid ass role in this stupid ass play and I didn’t even wanna be in and I totally blew that shit. Just fucked up all my lines right on show night. Man, he let me have it.”

You feel your breath stuck in your chest at the sudden venting. Venting about his father, no less. It was sudden, unwarranted. He was opening up to you all on his own without prompting. 

“What happened?” The cigarette still burns, a red glowing halo. 

He shrugs, tosses a rock from the floor and bounces it off the wall across the room mindlessly. “I don’t know. I didn’t even want to be there so when I saw all those people just staring at me- I don’t know. They were laughing at me and I just totally froze up.”

You could picture it if you really tried. Nathan, younger and anxious, locked up on stage with a sea of eyes all glued to him. Muscle memory and rehearsed lines vanishing in the blink of an eye. Pity grows in your gut. 

Pity, and understanding. Your own memories of being younger, up on stage in front of countless people watching your every move flare up in your mind. Your mother was raised in pageantry and made damn sure you would be the same despite your complaints. 

“I can’t imagine you in a play.” You admit quietly. He snorts.

“I couldn’t either. But that doesn’t matter, does it?” He huffs. “Always pushing me into shit I don’t want to do because I'm a Prescott and it’s apparently my job. He even made me sign up for the football and get this-” He turns to face you with a harsh expression. “I didn’t fucking cut it!”

You tilt your head. “Didn’t cut it?”

“Nope! Didn’t fucking make tryouts. But thank god my dad was there to buy my way in, right?”

“You couldn’t say no?” You ask, even though you already know the answer. The picture he’d painted of his father was growing clearer by the second. 

“I said no probably a thousand times. Still joined.”

Your heart falls for him, sinks into your stomach as his walls visibly come down around him. He’s bare, vulnerable. 

“My mom always made me enter beauty pageants as a kid.” You blurt with a dry throat. “I uh-... I remember being up on stage with a face full of makeup feeling uglier than sin. Bunch of grown ass adults judging every micro movement I made. Really did a number on how I see myself now.”

“You ever win?” He asks. 

You stare into the ever burning cigarette. “No.”

“Never?”

You shake your head. “Never. My mom stopped enrolling me after I almost threw up on stage.” He raises a brow, and you sigh. “I had the flu and she made me go up anyway. Show had to go on. But… She was done after that. Never even really wanted to talk about it anymore, either. I feel like I really disappointed her but at least it was over, I guess.”

Nathan stares into his lap. After a beat of silence, he says, “My sister used to be into all that Little Miss America shit.”

Your view of him and his world grows a little wider. “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

He nods dully. “Yeah. She’s out in Brazil. Got sick of my dad and went to go find herself or some shit.” His voice is tense, sarcastic with just a hint of something deeper. Hurt.

“Do you still talk to her?” 

“Sometimes.” He bites at his lip. “She talks to me, but-... I don’t know. She always wants me to get into her self-help crap and it’s just a bunch of bullshit.”

You shift your weight. “Not even interested in trying?”

He scoffs. “If my shrink can’t even figure my shit out, what the fuck is Brazil gonna’ do for me?”

“Getting away from your dad.” You answer bluntly, and he grimaces like he knew that’s what was coming. “Getting away from all this pointless shit.”

“Well if I was gonna’ bounce it wouldn’t be there.”

“Where would you go?” 

Nathan looks at you. Though it’s quick, fleeting, you see something in his eyes. Reflection. Wonder, even. Then he’s back to stone and shoving your question away with a half-assed shrug.

Before you can open your mouth to press a little harder, keep that same energy he’d been so kind to offer, he’s knitting his brows and staring at the cigarette you’d kept so safe and unsmoked in your fingers. He sighs. “You gonna’ smoke that or just let it burn?”

You jump a little. For a moment, you’d entirely forgotten it was there. For such a little stick of paper and herb, it felt awfully intimidating in your grasp. The smoke teased your senses, made your eyes water just a little. With a small, anxious swallow, you let out a soft breath.

Fuck it, you think to yourself.

You suck at the end and watch the red halo burn into a rush of red as thick smoke fills your mouth. Blowing the smoke out into the cramped room, you cock your head. No coughing, no ache in your chest. Just the rough taste of tobacco. Not what you’d been expecting in the slightest.

Nathan laughs at you.

“What?” You ask, knitting your brows together. 

“You have to actually smoke it, you know.” He snickers. “Like, breathe it in.”

You frown, cheeks reddening. “I just did.”

“No, you have to breathe it. Into your lungs.”

So, you try again. A little less nervy this time. You drag the cigarette up to your lips and suck, feeling the same flood of smoke fill your mouth. But, this time, you breathe into your waiting lungs, expecting it to be just the same as before. Oh, how wrong you were.

The very instant you heave in that breath, the smoke assaults your lungs and you’re sent into an instant coughing fit. It burns, it feels like it shreds your chest and throat, heaving coughs striking you as you struggle to get in another breath of air. Bursts of gray sputter from your lips like a broken tail pipe. Every breath hurts and your eyes water, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. For a moment, it feels as though you’d never get your breath back.

A flash of white blinds you for a second, another sense grabbing your attention. The mechanical sound of his camera reaches you as he prints a picture and shakes it to develop. 

“You fucker-” You struggle to speak, gasping for air. “T-Throw it Away-!”

Nathan just plucks the cigarette from your fingers, pockets the picture and laughs even as you shake your head. “Gotta make sure we keep the memory!”

“I feel like this is a blackmail moment.” You manage. You could only imagine what the picture looked like- you in all your virgin-lunged glory, red faced, puffy cheeks with billows of smoke entombing you. 

You’re still steadying your breath when Nathan plucks the cigarette from your fingers and draws in an effortless hit. It’s like he’s doing it to tease you- straight faced and lax meanwhile you were pawing away the tears in your eyes with heavy lungs. The settling never comes, your breath never fully returns from its shaky state, and you can’t help but wonder if it’s due to the hide-out being now chock full of thick, swirling gray. It takes a lot to ignore his snickering when you’re bounding off your ass and heading for the door. 

Cold air hits you like a bolt and slices through the assault in your chest. Finally, finally you suck in a full breath of precious air. The door swings open, then shut, and Nathan’s beside you once more. 

“Gonna’ make it?” He asks without bothering to hide the snark in his tone. 

“I think so.”

“How’s it feel to lose your cig virginity?” He asks, grinning slyly.

“It feels like lung cancer.” You answer flatly. 

Nathan shrugs. “It gets easier.”

You’re about to answer, but you’re stopped at the sudden bellowing song of a train's horn. It echoes from the distance, grabs both of your attention. A train barrels past through the valley of the trash, only mere yards away. It scares you for only a moment before you’re enamored in the colossal machine. Rocks and pebbles bounce to life as it hauls past. 

“Sweet,” You say breathlessly, watching metal and graffiti blur by. “I knew the tracks were close, but I didn’t realize it cuts right through here.”

Something draws you closer, and you follow it like a moth to flame. Eventually you’re so close, daring to inch a few feet away, the colossal beast howling in your ears. 

The wind picks your hair and clothes up, flutters it around you and has you closing your eyes as it rips past. It’s like nothing you’d ever felt before- a certain ring of adrenaline. You don’t notice it when Nathan snaps yet another unsuspecting photo of you, but you do notice the bullseye of the camera staring right back at you when you open your eyes. You also notice the expression on Nathan- one you hadn’t seen yet. Focused, and yet, softer than that. Fondness, almost. All aimed directly at you. It’s when he realizes you’re looking that you physically see his edges reharden. He straightens his back and blinks at you. 

“Another picture?” You shout over the deafening noise.

“Can’t waste a good opportunity.” He calls back, very of matter of factly, but you see the way he swipes the picture from his camera and drinks the sight in. You can tell the shot must have been a good one with the satisfied nod he gives subconsciously. 

The train is gone just as quickly as it came. It bellows in the distance as it disappears, taking the serene moment with it. Suddenly, once more, the world grows silent. 

“How do I look?” You reach out to grab the picture but he’s quick to swipe it from your grasp, rears back and crams it in his pocket. A frown draws over your lips. 

“Like shit,” He snarks. “That’s going on a christmas card for sure.”

You’d hoped he’d give you a passing glance given you were the subject but clearly he had no intentions of that, the photo long since disappearing in his jacket with the ongoing collection of pictures he’d snapped so far. It eats at you, in a way. Worries you. You knew his snark- surely you couldn’t look that bad. But…

What if you truly did look awful? You were never a fan of having your photo taken- always felt so awkward and out of place. So forced. You hated the idea of existing there in his pocket, or potentially in some binder, forever ugly and immortalized.

But then you remind yourself how he’d gazed at the picture with such softness, like it was perfect from top to bottom. A certain passing glance of appreciation you never knew you craved. 

Birds sing overheard, the clouds lazily draft by the sun just enough for a chill to creep up your spine. For a lingering moment, the two of you just stare off into the endless blue. But then that moment too, passes. You grow cold- you clutch your arms and goosebumps ride a shiver that tingles its way up your spine.

“I’m going back in.” You say. Nathan perks up, haloed by his cigarette’s trail of smoke. 

Despite the brick walls, the hide-out offers little warmth, but it’s enough. While you linger, he finds his spot once more wordlessly, languidly falls back against the wall and slides down until he’s nestled in his spot like he’d done it a million times before. He probably has, now that you think about it. He’d probably spent years in that exact spot, drawing on gritty walls and smoking the whole plot out. It makes you think about him and his past, what was once a blank canvas in your mind slowly adorning strokes of color and painting the picture that was Nathan Prescott.  He draws in a hit of his cigarette and tips his head back to sigh it back out. You wished, in that moment, you had a camera of your own. You want this version of him to stay. 

It sort of does, in a way. For that day at least. 

Because time drew on just like that- tossing bottles at the rubbly ground to see if they’d break or bounce, Nathan burning through his sticks of tobacco and you refusing with every passing offer. The sun hangs heavy on invisible strings and lowers to the treeline, peaks through the splintered roof and stripes gold along his pale skin. You both talk about nothing and everything. At one point, you make a joke, and he laughs. Not a snarky, bitter laugh. Real, deep in his chest. A hearty sound that lanced through you like lightning and settled in your gut with a truly pitted realization: you’d give anything to hear more of that.

You’re both so enthralled in each other's presence that you barely register the way the sky had melted from a bright blue, into a purple and red haze glowing hot over the horizon. Crickets sing in place of the birds, a crisp breeze picks up once more, reminds you that it’s getting late. Though it pains you, you’re the first to call it a day by standing up and stretching your arms high overhead. You don’t miss the way Nathan’s shoulders slump just a little- just enough when you grab the bat and hoist it over your shoulders. He’s reluctant, doesn’t move until you nudge his foot with your own, and even then he moves so slowly you can’t help but wonder if he’s stalling. 

“Got places to be?” He grunts, standing and grabbing his camera. 

“Sure do.” You follow his saunter out of the hide-out. “In my room, in bed.”

“Seriously? It’s barely even 8.”

“Gives me more time to think of why I ditched class today.”

Nathan gives you a sideways glance, guiding you through the junkyard. “I got one. It’s called not giving a shit.”

Easy to say when you don’t have to worry about your future. You think. But then, you kick yourself mentally, because you know that’s not true. You know he worries- now more than ever. You press your lips into a tight line all the way to Nathan’s truck. Always the gentleman, the boy opens the door for you and motions for you to hop in. 

His driving is just as reckless back as it is on the way to the junkyard, giving you the urge to grab the handle on the door to brace yourself. The camera in your lap is heavy and you can’t help but want to fidget with it. So, naturally, you do. You can’t help picking it up and pawing at it like an uncultured beast. 

“Break it, you buy it.” He says nonchalantly, and you cringe. Thing probably costs more than your life was worth. 

Upclose, you can see just how many buttons and dials cover all the settings. It feels more like a computer than a camera, the high technology of it making you worry the slightest mistake would have it glitching out in your hands. It makes sense- of course Sean Prescott would ensure Nathan had nothing but the best. Or maybe, Nathan had bought it himself with his old, old money. It probably wasn’t even a splurge, just a simple staple of their lifestyle. 

You glance over at him, the pompous heir. He’s drawn another cigarette and it rests between his lips, left arm slung out the window. Your eyes follow the shape of him, his broad shoulders down to his right hand wrapped around the steering wheel. The way the sun graces the outline of him captivates you. This time, you do have a camera.

“How do you work this?” You ask, pressing a random button. The camera lights to life in your hands. 

Nathan, without looking over at you, says, “You press the button, that’s how.”

“Awesome.” You can see him through the little digital screen. He looked beautiful, picture perfect. The ocean makes a wonderful landscape. Your finger dances over the countless buttons, and then, click. The camera shutters and in the blink of an eye Nathan glares at you so sharply you wonder if it gave him whiplash. All his attention is ripped from the road and funnels onto you and that damned camera. It spits out a photo and drops into your lap. 

“What the fuck,” He huffs, swipes hands on the steering wheel and swipes at the picture. “Don’t fuck around with that thing!”

You pull the picture away from his grabbing hand, grinning. “Nope! This one’s all mine!”

“It’s my camera, dipshit.”

“Too bad. Wanna trade? You can give up the one of me smoking.”

“That one’s mine, too. Now hand it over. 

You pretend to give it some thought. Let him marinade while you hold the picture just barely out of his wiry grasp. 

“I’ve given it some thought, and, well…” You sigh dramatically. “No.”

“You fucking bitch.” He shakes his head and grits his teeth. “What for? Huh? Gonna show it off to all your little friends?”

You open your mouth to retort, but then you stop for a beat. 

Friends.

“First of all, what friends?” You scoff. “Second of all, it’s a good photo! You should be thanking me. I even got Arcadia Bay in the background. It’s gorgeous.”

“Gorgeous.” Nathan rolls his eyes. “Where? Behind all the drug dealers and phony ass hipsters? 

“Nathan, you’re a drug dealer.”

He eyes you. “Still stands.”

Your eyes fall, voice softening. “Arcadia Bay is pretty.”

You don’t see it, but he tosses his attention to the water spanning broad over the evening horizon. “I guess the water’s not too bad.” He admits. It’s enough to perk you up, a faint smile tugging at your lips. 

By the time he turns off the coastal road to something more winding, it’s well past curfew. In the forefront you see the looming building of Blackwell return to your vision. Your stomach sinks just a little realizing the day truly was coming to an end. He turns off to the dorms and nearly whips into the parking lot before he slams the breaks, white knuckling the steering wheel. You lurch forward in your seat at the sudden stop- grabbing hard onto the camera so it can’t go plundering to your feet.

“Dude! What?” You huff. 

“Madison- that fucking freak!” Nathan sneers with narrowed eyes. You glance over the stretching parking lot and feel a pit settle in your gut at the sight of Madison standing at the boys dorm entrance, arms crossed and standing tall as ever. You knew exactly what he was looking for, and it was sitting right beside you. 

“Fuck, we’re way past curfew. He’s gonna ream us.” You murmur.

Nathan chews at his lip, drills his foot onto the gas and speeds past the boys dorm and towards the girls. “If he’s gonna stalk my ass, at least be subtle about it. Fuck it. I’ll just drop you off and crash at some friends.”

“Stay at mine.” You’re blurting out the words before you can even stop yourself. So quick it shocks you. 

“What now?” He turns his entire body to you, seemingly just as surprised. 

You nervously fidget with your fingers, swallowing hard and scrambling for a way to explain yourself that didn’t show your obvious desperation. “What, do I not fit the ‘some friend’ criteria?” 

“You’re inviting me in?” He raises a brow. “Last time you couldn’t get me out fast enough.”

Last time. You remember it in flashes- being backed into the corner of your own dorm and witnessing first hand Nathan’s flashes of raging emotions. Feeling the full brunt of him box you in, nowhere to go. You remembered how terrifying he has been. 

And how exhilarating it had felt. 

You swipe your tongue over your lips. “I’ve slept in your room how many times now? I’d feel like kind of a piece of shit if I didn’t offer you this solid.” 

Nathan eyes you suspiciously, a look you’ve come quite familiar with. But then it softens. “I mean, if you insist. Better not get all weird on me, though. No drinks, and minute I start feeling dizzy it’s over.”

“Jesus christ.” You grunt with a sharp eye roll, masking your relief. “Now why the hell would I need to do all that?”

“I dunno. I don’t know what weird shit you’ve got going on there.”

“Homework and self loathing.”

Nathan snickers. “Then honestly, I think I prefer the roofies.”

You shove his arm and he laughs again, pulls into a parking space in the far corner of the lot and rolls the windows shut. Quick thoughts pester at you, poke at your brain and bounce off your thick dome of a skull. 

What if someone sees him? There were already so many rumors floating through the narrow half of Blackwell, your name echoed and drug through the mud with every passing day. It was new to you- a strange form of popularity. It made you want to bury your head, go back to the days before college where you were a proper nobody with nothing to offer to anyone except a few sarcastic zingers here and there from the back of the class. It was easier back than. 

You chew at your lip in thought. 

It was strange to have your own name tossed back at you from total strangers. Back in highschool you worked hard to withhold a reputation that was held deep below the radar. Quiet, unintrusive. Nothing to see or hear. The lack of attention was lonely, sure, but it was worth it when you saw what happened to the few friends you had with louder prescenses. There was safety in the isolation. You’d witnessed vulgar names scribbled on their lockers, their papers smacked from their hands in the hallways. Always had to watch over their backs simply because they had a voice and the heart to do something with it. Despite the raging seas behind your eyes, you kept yourself so at bay that you lacked any depth at all to the observing eye. 

But, from your very core, you were nothing if not a bitter, repressed spectator. 

So now you had no idea how to navigate these murky waters. If not for Nathan, you’d be lost floating in the void that was the first stages of social suicide. Outcast from your friend group, a vicious sexual rumor. To know it was all founded on lies made you want to tear out your hair. 

But, you didn’t. You barely even barked let alone bit and then you let Nathan handle it- and he did it with ease. Vindictive, impulsive and brazen ease. You knew it the day you saw him fighting out in the school's parking lot, and you still knew it now: He was a force to be reckoned with. 

And you were sitting in his truck, inviting him into your room. And he accepted. 

So maybe, truly, nothing else mattered but that. 

You watch Nathan mindlessly as he pulls his keys from the ignition and leans on the steering wheel before he grabs a small shoulder bag from his back seat. After fishing the pictures out from his pocket, he tosses them in the bag alongside his camera. 

The trip to your dorm went smoother than you’d thought. You’d guided him to the far side of the building where your trusty window remained open, barely open enough to notice but the perfect amount of room for you to wiggle your fingers into the opening and haul it up. You crawled in, dragged Nathan and his lanky limbs through, and made your way to your room. To your shock. Nathan took the lead. Led the path to your own room and leaned on the frame waiting for you like he’d done it a million times before. 

The moment you unlocked the door, he was shoving inside with no hesitation as if he owned the place. He takes in the state of your room, immediately judging you. There was an unmade bed, and a few posters on the wall. A TV mounted on a shitty little coffee table against the wall across from your bed and a small computer desk that held your cheap laptop in its wooden hands. A pile of clothes rests in a tipped over hamper, a cluster of papers scatter over a nightstand, some laying discarded on the floor. You own a single stuffed animal and it sits in proud display among your crumpled blankets- a little brown teddy.  

What a mess.

“Wow.” He says flatly. You swallow.

“I haven't had a lot of time to clean.” You say quickly. “And to be honest, I’ve been fucking exhausted.”

“It’s better than last time. Less crackden and more of a… Slightly better crackden.” He grins. “A crack home.”

The scoff that leaves you doesn't go unnoticed by him.

Nathan makes quick work to start sorting through nearly everything you owned after he sets his bag down at the edge of your bed. The first victim was your nightstand, to which he rudely ripped the drawer open and began pawing through the random items you'd tossed in. Half empty packs of gum and crumpled receipts were swiped to the side to reveal even more junk. Next was your computer- the mouse being jostled to spring your screen to life. 

Luckily there wasn’t anything too tantalizing- just the home screen of Blackwell's online site and a few youtube tabs. In that moment you realized this was simply a taste of your own medicine- payback for you dragging his glove box open and sorting through his shit like you didn’t have a care in the word. Turns out, he was right. It is pretty violating. 

There’s a moment where you almost stop him when he plucks the stuffed bear from your bed. Your hand moves at your side just barely, just enough for him to see.

“What are you, five?” He snorts. 

You frown.

“It’s, uh… My grandpa’s. He gave it to me before he died, and I didn’t feel right tossing it.”

It’s shocking when Nathan pauses at that. You fully expected him to laugh at you, toss it to the floor, do something just so painfully and evilly him, but… He doesn’t. He looks at you with a blank expression and then eyes the bear, gives it a subtle squeeze before he’s tossing it back on the blankets without a word. The mental image of his definitely existing heart grows larger in your mind. The canvas in your mind earns another stroke of vibrant color.

“Well now, what do we have here?” A stack of movies by the tv catches his eyes. He fingers through the stack, which is comprised of a few horror movies and early 2000’s comfort shows. “Didn’t know you were into slashers.”

You shrug. “You never asked.”

Before you know it, he’s standing and tossing a DVD case onto the bed. Scream 2. 

“Put it on.” He damn near demands, and if you weren’t already a little excited at getting some movie-time in, you’d have wanted to smack him upside the head. But, alas. Scream 2 is too good of a movie to pick a fight over, and you also don’t know if you’ll get this chance with him again. You’re almost positive that watching a movie with Nathan isn’t exactly a commonplace in Aracdia Bay.  

While you’re getting the movie started on the tv, he’s busy behind you making sure to get nice and comfortable in your bed. He even takes his shoes off and tucks himself under the blankets, and you try to not zero-in on the fact that he’s getting his outside clothes all over your washed sheets. He probably wouldn't even give a shit if you did fuss. The animal.

But you can’t deny the buzzing thrill you feel under your skin when you settle in beside him, keeping plenty of room for jesus. This was different then the other times you’d slept side by side. This was something… Softer. Something more intimate in a way that almost made you so nervous your stomach was churning. This time, relaxing together, enjoying a nice movie and warm blankets, it was all intentional and wanted. No anger, no bitterness. 

But then you remember how, even with all that, you’d woken up with him wrapped so tightly around you that one morning it was hard to breathe. His fingers pressed into your skin, his face nuzzled so perfectly in the crook of your neck. The morning sun warmed your skin. It felt like how a painting looked- so perfect in every little detail. It almost felt like a dream. 

With each passing adventure, you grew to accept that somehow life was determined to draw you two together, even despite the different worlds you lived in. Though the battle was hard, you felt like you were winning, worlds bleeding into each other just right. 

You’d made it out of the woods and into that beautiful, scorching sun. 

The movie starts, and you both seem to let yourself melt into it. 

-----

You hadn’t realized you fell asleep until a loud, shrill scream rips you from your slumber. 

Your stomach plummets into your guts, heart thrashing in your chest, damn sure that someone must be getting sliced and diced somewhere in the halls. But instead of a gruesome blood bath seeping under the crack of your door, you’re instead met with your TV screen. The color floods the room, basking it in disorienting waves of red as some poor woman on screen chopped to bits. You rub at your eyes and wipe away the dreariness before you start rummaging through the blankets to find the remote. You don’t find the remote, but you do find Nathan. 

He’s out cold, passed the hell out on his back with his arm thrown over his face and everything. The steady rise and fall of his chest helps your heart rate fall back down to where it belongs, your nerves beginning to settle. You peek around the edge of the bed, wondering if maybe it’d toppled onto the floor. Once again you find something else- this time in the shape of a bag. It lays on its side, items scattered about haphazardly. You realize you must have kicked his bag off during your minor fit, so begrudgingly you drag the warm blankets from your legs and let yourself sink to the floor. 

The thought of rummaging through Nathan’s personal goods doesn’t even strike you until you pick up a plastic bottle, bright orange with a little white label. Diazepam. Another little bottle catches your eye and you grab it, too, without shame. Risperidone. You hadn’t heard of the second, but you had heard of the first. A sedative, you were pretty sure. Your heart falls just a little even though you knew you shouldn’t be shocked. This was Nathan, afterall. Dude has problems. You knew he was seeing a psychiatrist, but for some reason you hadn’t considered him medicating himself. You wondered if it was his choice or his dad’s, a desperate attempt to regain control over his son.

You tuck the bottles into his bag and try to ignore the heavy feeling in your chest. The rest of the contents were to be expected- his keys, some receipts, a little baggy with a few unlabeled pills and then of course his trusty cigarettes. You’re about to zip the bag back up when something slightly under the bed catches your eyes. 

Photos. Quite a few of them too- a small pile of outside shots. The first few were shattered glass and the unfortunate remains of the day you two had had. And then two more.

The first polaroid is exactly what you were afraid of: you, wrapped in a veil of smoke, eyes squeezed shut all red-faced and sputtering. It was everything you had been afraid of since the moment you saw the flash go off. You’re so tempted to tear it to shreds but you refrain- long enough to take note of the other picture. It’s heavy in your fingers, eyes scanning over the image before you. 

It punches the air from your lungs. 

It’s you, again. But it was different this time. Your hair flows around your head like a crown, the train blurring by grabbing leaves and wind. Your clothes ruffle as it drags by. The photo he’d taken at the junkyard. It was perfect, the composition just right and the timing impeccable. And you. You never considered yourself on the pretty side of the scale, but you couldn’t stop the wonder that struck you staring down at that picture. 

You never looked so beautiful. You looked so alive. 

Your eyes travel up the side of the bed, where you peek at Nathan, this man you let into your room and welcomed into your bed. The stark contrasts of him between things not exactly inherently good or bad. His eye for perfection, his urges to destroy. Between the drugs and the outlandish ability to make you see yourself as something worth photographing for the first time in your life. How he cursed at you with every other word but insisted on keeping this little laminated version of you close to him. 

The garrish, raging fire inside of him with a soft, blue core. 

Quickly, you tuck the photos back into the bag. Even the ugly one, that suddenly doesn't seem so ugly anymore. You pick the bag up and set it on the nightstand, revealing the remote. You can’t help but laugh. It really did feel like the world was aligning to draw you closer to him- like not falling in love with him wasn’t an option anymore. 

The bed is more than welcoming when you crawl back in. He’s so warm beside you, and even warmer when he subconsciously wraps himself around you. Your heart stutters, breath caught in your throat. It’s just like the other morning in his dorm, caged against him like a willing bird. He hums breaths onto your neck. His heart beats rhythmically against your back. It’s perfect, and you sink into him like you were meant for it. Like two little puzzle pieces with frayed edges planted into the wrong sets.

Like even if the words hadn’t been said, you were his lover. His girl.

[xxsp3llb0undxx]

The Pack With A Gen-Z!Reader // HC

Sam:

Dude would be so confused.

You're just yapping on about some random tiktok you saw.

Sam just looking at you like you've lost your mind.

Don't get me started on him trying to understand slang.

Sam would literally have a heart attack trying to figure out what you are saying.

Gives me the vibes of trying to be down with kids but fails miserably.

Definitely thinks he's cool because he found out about the dab and won't stop doing it.

He once locked you out by accident and all he was met with was “open the noooor”.

He thought you were having a stroke.

Paul:

My sweet baby Paul would be utterly confused at first.

Might think you're possessed.

He finally figures it out and he's all for tiktoks

Helping you prank the pack and getting it on video.

Definitely bullies you if you're trying a new tiktok trend.

Is the type to obnoxiously start screaming "Yaaaass gorrrl"

Jared:

Don't get me started on this boy.

Major younger brother vibes.

Sees you trying a new recipe? Will literally scream in your ear and run away.

Will join in with making tiktok videos.

Starts reciting random shit he's seen on Instagram reels 100%

The most in tune with the Gen-Z kids, giving feral energy.

Jacob:

Judging you all the time.

Why do you keep saying girl boss?

He would honestly hate you if you constantly kept saying random tiktok sounds.

"Hi I'm Shelley Duvall" is now stuck in this poor boys head.

Will personally ask Edward to suck you dry

Would be absolutely mortified if you said you might like it.

Embry:

Partner in crime.

1000% up to piss anyone off.

Everyone knows the Gen-z kids always do something really fucking random.

Wanna steal a car? Embry is already grabbing a crowbar.

Wanna take pictures of Sam asleep and stick them all around the house? Fuck he's already got the camera.

Wanna tie-dye random clothes? Already getting the bleach ready.

Quil:

Terrified.

In a constant state of fear when he's around you.

Like, he doesn't know what you're gonna do.

Bark at him? Definite no.

Set the house on fire because of a spider? He's outta here.

Crying because you couldn't renew your spotify/apple music? Doesn't know how to react.

Quil.exe has stopped working.

Seth:

Seth is a little puppy.

Will literally do anything you ask.

Go up to Sam and start reciting the lyrics to I'm A Survivor? He is already marching over there.

You ask him to make bread from 1930 with you? Sure, he doesn't care that it has random ingredients in it.

Would definitely let you do the "p for papas, it's a papas party" on him while in wolf form.

Leah:

Questioning everything.

She asks where your shirt is from? The only response she gets is "Gaslight, gatekeep, girl boss"

Utterly confused.

Wishes she could travel back in time and kidnap the maker of tiktok so she wouldn't have to hear "Attenzione pickpocket" for the 100th time.

Will cry if you start trauma dumping out of nowhere.

Give my girl Leah a rest

[blitzosicedcoffee]

Ficlet: I'll Save You

(Admittedly, I shouldn't be writing this, because my wrists hurt like a bitch, but I'm a bitch to myself and I have THINGS IN MY HEAD that need to get out of said head, so here. Have my head hehe).

Here you go @blitzwhore :)

Setting the Scene:

Stolas works for IMP, he has been asking over and over to go on a mission with the gang and Blitz kept saying no because he was worried it's "Too dangerous". Stolas followed up with "I am literally an eldritch god" to which Blitz said, "Fucking fine but do what I say".

Blitz falls through the portal, face first while Millie giggles and Moxxie shakes his head, both stepping through behind him. Stolas comes through last, gasping, "Blitz! Are you alright?" he reaches his hand down and Blitz waves it off,

"Yeah yeah yeah I'm fucking fine", he says, wiping snow off his jacket. Moxxie chuckles, "He does that like every day".

"Really?!" Stolas asks again and Millie nods. Blitz rolls his eyes,

"ANYWAY, let's go over the job gang. So we're here in...fuckin...what is this, Russia?" he looks to Moxxie and he opens the maps on his phone.

"Yes, we seem to be somewhere in the tundra of Russia, sir". Moxxie affirms and Blitz nods, "Good I guess. Millie why are we here again?"

Millie pulls out the briefing that Moxxie typed earlier, "It seems like we are looking for some guy in a cabin? Real remote person".

"What'd he do?" Blitz asks, Moxxie has been taking clients directly recently while Blitz and Stolas take longer getting to work. For...reasons.

Moxxie replies, "Well, it seems he shot up a preschool in a nearby village, sir. The teacher wants revenge".

"Holy fuck, okay", Blitz says, polishing his gun.

Stolas puts his hand to his mouth, "My word! He definitely deserves this then, we must be quick!" they all stare at him then back at Blitz.

"Yeah-it's fine Stols, we'll just go at our regular pace. Just wish it wasn't so fucking cold here, Satan's taint!" he shivers, holding his arms in his big coat with the hand sewn IMP patch that Stolas resewed after the last one got mildly burnt during the last mission in Antarctica, as someone decided to light a fire near the portal.

Stolas can't help but admire how cute Blitz looks in his little coat. He's only in a small wool sweater himself, his feathers giving him plenty of warmth already. As they walk toward the location of the cabin, the M's hold hands and Stolas grazes his near Blitz's hand and he blushes, putting it behind his head.

"UUUhhhh, m-maybe not while we're on mission", Blitz says shyly, his words having trouble finding their footing. He's realized that since they started dating, literally every brush, every touch, even potential is a fucking recipe for disaster in his head and body. He fucking melts like an ice cream cone in Wrath.

"Oh, right", Stolas replies, pulling his hand away and looking down, frowning. But Blitz can't take his sad owl eyes and reluctantly holds his hand, red hot spreading across his cheeks. Stolas doesn't say anything to the sudden change of heart, just smiles and winks at Millie when she looks back at them.

Blitz pulling his hand away from Stolas, he pushes him down by placing a hand at the small of his back as they all duck behind some bushes.

"Okay what's the plan?" Moxxie asks, looking to Blitz who shakes his head, "Huh?" he replies, clearly distracted and Millie and Stolas giggle.

"Sir! The plan! For killing this guy!" Moxxie says again, annoyed now as Millie runs her hand up the back of his hair under his hat and he calms a little.

Blitz scooches away from Stolas and takes a deep breath, "Right. So Moxx, you flank the back with Mills. I got the front with Stols". They nod and separate, but the target is good at realizing his surroundings.

He steps out of the cabin, holding his shotgun.

"I FUCKING HEARD SHIT OUT HERE!" he says in Russian and Blitz shrugs, "Alright I just need to line up the shot", he lines up the rifle through the bush and Stolas puts a hand on his shoulder.

"You don't think we should wait until he's back inside?" Stolas asks and Blitz scoffs, "Nah, this'll do fine". He looks back in his scope but the target is gone.

"Fuuuuck", he whispers under his breath. Stolas looks around, "I dont see him..."

"See M&M anywhere?" he asks, still whispering and Stolas shakes his head, "Fuck" he replies in a whisper again.

Suddenly the target tries to tackle Blitz, kicking Stolas to the side against a tree. Putting his hands around Blitz's throat.

"Blitz!!" he turns eldritch, swiping a black claw straight through the targets body, slicing him in half right over Blitz, their blood dripping down Blitz's face as Stolas's eldritch form looms over him.

"Holy fuck...." he whispers, barely audible. The blood in his body flooding his face and...other parts.

Stolas quickly pushes the split body of the target aside and changes back to his regular form, blood splattered all over his face.

"Blitz are okay?! I'm so sorry if I scared you I-" he starts but Blitz pulls him down by the back head feathers into a deep, tongue twisting kiss.

"That was the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen", he says, both breathing heavily as they continue making out in the blood stained snow.

"Sir! Are you-WHAT THE FUCK?!" he says, gesturing to them and Millie chuckles, "Oh Moxx don't be mad, this is literally us every time we do a mission".

Moxx sighs, "You're right", then he sees the body of the target, "Satan-daaaaammnnnn. Was that you Stolas?!" he asks and Stolas nods, Blitz sitting up and pulling Stolas close, "You're damn right it was him!! My sweet murder bird", he coos and gives pecking kisses all over Stolas's face, him hooting in response.

Moxxie takes a picture of the body and holds Millie's hand, "Okay how are they more gross than we are".

"It's cute!" Millie says, smiling. Blitz blushes, standing up and Pulling Stolas up with him and easily pressing the crystal portal open.

"Come on gang! I'm fucking horny, and if I don't get to fuck this bird in the next ten minutes I'm gonna explode", he scoops Stolas up in his arms to his surprise,

"OOoh hoo hoo!" He hoots in response, kissing Blitz on the horns as he's carried through the portal.

[bubybubsters]

Insecurities (Eris x reader)

A/n: random, completely winging this, typed from my phone, please excuse and mistakes definitely not proof read. Prob a bad title too.

Ok so you and Eris are mates and he is about to try to kill Beron.

masterlist

⚠️: none?

word count: 1371

You knew your mate was worried; he never closed off his side of the bond unless he thought it was necessary. And Eris almost never thought it was necessary. But with less than a week until Eris planned to kill Beron, you knew he was insecure. But you didn’t know how insecure, so you wrapped up your long meeting with the ambassadors and quickly hurried t your shared room

When you opened the door to your room you were not expecting a ring of fire surrounded Eris and your mate on his knees, body covered with fire.

You hesitated, you were from the Dawn Court and your wings were definitely not immune to fire, nor was your body. Beron had only allowed the marriage because you were Thesan’s cousin and it would secure an alliance with the Dawn Court. But Beron didn’t know you were mates as Eris took great care to hide that. Beron hadn’t threatened you because that would put his alliance on thin ice. Unfortunately being Eris’ mate didn’t make you immune to fire.

You circled around so Eris could see you and started to reach a hand out towards the fire. Eris glanced up, his face stone cold and eyes guarded.

“Leave Y/n, please just leave me alone.”

You would do no such thing, even as his words hit your heart right where your own insecurities were. Does he still want me? Will he stop loving me one day? What if I'm not enough? You pushed the thoughts aside and focused on your mate. Slowly you took a step towards the fire. Another. Another. Until you were right in front of the fire, you could feel the heat of the fire, but it wasn't too hot. So you took another step, the fire immediately split around you.

Eris lifted his head and frowned at the fire as if it had a mind of its own. The fire surrounding his body retreated as you slowly pulled him into you. His back against your chest, one of your arms resting over his sternum, the other arm tangled in his hair. He was so tense that you leaned forward and whispered words in his ear.

"My mate, it may not be fine now but you will grow and heal and it will be better than fine. I love you and nothing you do will ever change that, you are good, you are kind and respectful and have never treated me with anything but. I am yours and you are mine and I love you. I love every part of you and I always will."

Eris hesitated to relax into you and you knew it was because he didn't want anyone to see him like this. Vulnerable and raw. You continued stroking his hair and occasionally whispered soft reassurances in his ear.

But he stiffened suddenly and sat up, not meeting your eyes, shutting you out. "I thought I told you to leave Y/n, if you can't follow that order at least shut the hell up and stop touching me! I can't stand it, you're so needy and you're always demanding something from me. Just go away, let me have a day of peace!"

Eris turned away from you as his words struck your heart deep, but you didn't go. You sat by him for the next few hours as he shouted things at you that went straight through your walls and to your heart. But you stayed and when he fell asleep you picked him up in your arms and set him on the bed. Tucking him in, you glanced at the clock. It was 6am. Shit, you were both already late for your morning meetings.

You left the room with a concerned glance at your mate even as you wondered if he meant his words. You went to his meeting in the night court first and when you got there a dagger was at your throat.

"Who are you? What have you done with Eris?"

You looked up to see the spymaster, you grimaced, "Eris is fine and I am his mate here to meet with the high lord in his place."

The spymaster hesitated before leading you to a meeting room already filled with the night court inner circle. You got straight to the point, "Alright first things first, I don't know when my mate will make his move but I can say with certainty that it will be in less than a week. Eris is stressed and tired and please to not pressure him, I'm not doing much better but I am already late to a meeting with the captain of Eris' loyal soldiers. So please excuse my mate and let him rest."

Everyone stared at you with shock before Rhysand nodded, "Tell Eris to come meet with us when he is ready, we have the supplies he asked for. And you can go meet with the captain and after that I think you should get some rest."

You smiled at him and nodded, "thank you high lord" before you winnowed out to another meeting.

You gave the captain a similar speech and he nodded. "Tell the Heir to get rest; he can't defeat Beron without strength, and tell him to come at least 5 hours before he makes his move. We need a heads up to be ready. Thank you mi'lady, but may I suggest you cancel the rest fo the meetings today?"

You laughed, "Why is everyone so worried about me? I'm not the one about to attempt overthrowing the throne! And captain, my next meeting is in the night, I should be good. Plus how many times do I have to say you can call me Y/n?

The captain and his soldiers stared at you until one spoke up. "I don't mean to be rude Y/n but have you looked at yourself recently?"

You blinked at the soldiers before nodding, "I suppose I should do that. Thank you."

When you got back to your room Eris was awake and eating breakfast at the desk while reading reports. He glanced up and his face was so cold and devoid of emotion that all your insecurities from his words the night before came rushing back. You stopped at his side and he pulled you into his lap stiffly.

Eventually you dared to speak, "I... did you mean what you said last night? Am I really needy and demanding?"

He stared down at you, expression softening immediately. "No I didn't sweetheart, I had a long day of work and you know what's coming up but I'm sorry, I shouldn't have taken it out on you. You are all I could ask for in a mate, you do everything for me and ask for nothing in return. You stayed even when I told you to go because you know me and knew I didn't mean it. But I'm willing to bet everything I said hurt you, and I'm infinitely sorry for that. I will make it up in every way if you can forgive me."

You smiled at Eris, expression slightly pained but you nodded. "I will forgive you Eris Vanserra, and I know my cracked heart will heal eventually, with your help." Eris's answering smile was as bright as the sun. "I also met with the night court," Eris stiffened and you quickly added, "Rhysand wishes to meet with you when you're ready and the Captain needs you to notify him at least 5 hours before you know what so he can get his troops ready. They both told me to sleep as well but I don't understand why...."

Eris looked at you amused and stood up, carrying you to the full body mirror. You blinked at your reflection. There were dark circles under your eyes, your hair was unkempt, you clothes were singed at the edges and there was a little cut on your neck from where the spymaster had held a knife to your throat. You gaped at yourself.

Eris kissed the top of your head, "sleep my little fox, I will be here when you wake and I can start my apology." Your body heated but you smiled at him and drifted into unconscious.

A/n: hope you enjoyed! Constructive criticism, comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated. I swear I actually look at them

[devilheartsblog]

Synthwave (Gantlos x Musa) Massive Info Dump

Before I start shoutout to that one Russian who makes edited pics of these two.

Don’t mind me yapping about these two because I think they’d make a good pairing IF you write them well enough. I can easily see Gantlos being used as a moral scapegoat to make Riven look better in comparison, despite Riven saying his gf changed when that’s literally her special interest and she’s the FAIRY OF MUSIC!

Anyway the ship mostly started as a joke when I found out about Fairies of the Black Circle and brainstormed some interactions for a Season 4 rewrite but the more I thought about it the more I think their dynamic works and my friend @calissarowan agrees with me (and in return they lade me ship Dumantlos)

Enemies to Lovers is actually fire

This is my biggest argument for the ship and that Enemies to Lovers is honestly a dynamic I’ve grown fond of after seeing it being done right in some stories.

The biggest one I can point out is Ace Attorney tho it’s more Rivals to Lovers. Long story short Miles Edgeworth is Phoenix Wright’s rival as the prosecutor in the first game. He ends up being a suspect for the last murder and Phoenix, as the defense, decides to take his case and defend him. Throughout the story we learn about their character and how Edgeworth is the reason why Phoenix became a lawyer, and Edgeworth ultimately redeems himself by bringing down the true culprit of the overarching story built up during each episode/chapter.

Gantlos and Musa are obviously enemies fighting to get Roxy and later on the White Circle. While they don’t have many interactions, you can use your imagination; Musa taunting him while he brushes it off to attack her and maybe banters back in a similar fashion to Anagan, and even shits on Riven for being a bad boyfriend. Now if we tweak Season 4 to make the wizards more useful we get the Winx and wizards banding together to stop the Earth Fairies from getting rid of humanity, and as the story goes Gantlos opens up to Musa and they grow closer, eventually fighting tooth and nail to have eachother’s backs. I know this is fanfiction territory but I don’t like how the threat of genociding humans was brushed off while the wizards’ treason and sending Nabu into a coma was treated like blasphemy (which I mostly blame the writers for killing him off tbh)

Basically the enemies to lovers dynamic opens for a lot of character growth and thus better dynamics for them. Not to mention it being very interesting overall when done right.

But Harper, why would they even like each other?

While I can’t give a direct reason my answer lies within the other characters. It’s well known Riven and Musa are very shitty to each other, with how Musa sets up too many expectations on Riven who’s new to dating, and Riven’s jealousy and insulting his gf’s special talent. The others also push them to be together when we all know where this is going… Anyway, Musa has said before she needs someone to support her but it’s obvious she likes bad boys. Well, if you think about it Gantlos fits her type perfectly. Again he’s stoic and a jerk at times but if you’re someone he’s close to he’ll show you he cares. I mean, his concern over Duman is why people shipped them so I can see him comforting Musa when she’s sad or scarred. And here’s a bonus, the reason she gets back with Riven every time is because he’s brave and strong and able to protect her. Guess who stopped the metro to protect his friend despite it possibly costume both their lives: GANTLOS! She’d be head over heels for him if he was a good guy!

For Gantlos you’ll have to bear with me here. I’ve noticed in the show he’s not respected on the same level as the other wizards: Ogron acknowledging his ideas ONLY after he’s proven wrong, Anagan saying he may have lost his mind and Duman insisting he’s wrong in Episode 16 (god I need to make a rant post about this someday). And since Musa can listen to the song in his heart and empathize with him she’d maybe treat him better and with the respect he wants. Maybe they get closer and he starts to have romantic feelings towards her and wants to stay by her side to protect Musa.

The Dynamic:

I should walk you guys through the dynamic we cooked up tho. Gantlos is obviously the jaded and stoic guy to contrast with Musa’s more “romantic” and snarky vibe. Even if Gantlos is evil he’s shown to have a soft side mainly for the people he cares for. Musa would tease him about having a soft side which he would deny until he caves in. I doubt Gantlos would be a pro at talking about his feelings, stumbling on his words and downplaying it, which doesn’t work on Musa since she can read the song in his heart (remember how that was established in one of the movies?) And with both of them being aloof or giving off that vibe even if they prefer to be alone they can be alone together, like two introverts getting hyped about each other.

Of course I can’t ignore the fact they would also argue and fight, Gantlos calling out Musa’s bad traits while Musa insists he’s not being good and he’s still a villain. It’d be rocky and they’d both be stubborn, but I think Gantlos calling Musa out would open her eyes to the fact she’s also to blame, while Gantlos gets talked by Ogron or Anagan that he was being too harsh on a lady. They talk it out in a healthy manner and no drama is dragged out for about 15 episodes.

Dates/Hobbies ideas (a lot of headcanon territory here)

In terms of dates I think it’d range from fun, to chill, to spicy. I can see them just hanging out by themselves listening to music together in a park or Musa’s room. With their more aloof nature they would probably do things like stargazing when it’s peaceful and nobody’s around, opening up about issues they have while the other comforts them.

I headcannon each wizard knows how to play an instrument and Gantlos does the electric guitar which is why he can summon seismic waves and has similar powers to Musa (sound waves, seismic waves, ya know). So he can jam out on a guitar while Musa sings to the melody or sing a song to her. Yes I also think he can sing, but the other characters assume the opposite because of his constant yelling, so him and Musa could duet (and they seal it with a kiss cause dhskdjsj it’s perfect that way)

Restaurants would be nice. I doubt Gantlos eats much, same for the other wizards, so he’d scarf down anything and wait for Musa to finish afterwards.

They could brush each other’s hair, maybe Gantlos braids Musa’s hair if she wants. Musa could also give him a massage whenever cause he needs it.

And lastly I don’t really talk about steamy stuff but I’m 90% sure they’re both freaky switches.

Marriage? Child?

Sorry but I can’t see them married, but that’s because I’m not big on marriages. But either way Gantlos is definitely moving from the sewers to her house and maybe has to work on his criminal record to get her dad’s blessing. I can imagine them having a mesh between a rock concert and the typical wedding stuff for theirs.

I’m also not a fan of fanchilds cause I can easily see the characters being reduced to “mom and dad” but maybe that’s a me problem. I’d imagine they have a daughter who’s very punk/rebel and she’d be a guitarist whose weapon is the same guitar she uses for her rock album.

The End

So far that’s all I have to say about this ship. Maybe I’ll talk about how Riven could factor into this or the tragedy of it all if it follows the cannon ending of Gantlos being stuck in a frozen hellscape after betraying Musa, her friends and the Earth fairies. But otherwise let me know that you think in the Reblogs and I’d appreciate anyone sharing this post because I feel like Synthwave would be a fire crackship.

Otherwise I’ll see you guys next Wednesday, buh-bye!

[acefiree]

𝗯𝗮𝘆! 𝗿𝗮𝗽𝗵𝗮𝗲𝗹 | surprise

Raphael ✷ fem! reader ( friends to lovers ) MASTERLIST

ᕦ(๏益๏)ᕥ: this is my first 'insert reader' so I'm still learning. SO PLS DON"T COME FOR ME! With that being said, you are the baby sister of April, and this will be set four months after the 2014 bay! movie. and since the title is called 'surprise' just read to find out the rest :) my warning tags will tell you what to expect!

( this was a chapter from my book ‘pom’ on wp, so if you recognize it, don’t worry it’s not stolen lol. My book is recently being edited and I took this scene out and was just gonna leave it sitting building dust bunnies, but then I was like “why not make it a reader insert instead and let people enjoy it?” so here yah go!! )

WARNINGS: fluff, fem! reader, short reader, size difference, first kiss?, potty mouth reader, pining raph, established friendship, reader wears glasses, pineapple pizza, aged-up characters!, and if you squint NSFW.

╭┈──── ◌ೄ◌ྀ ˊˎ YOUR FEET CARRY YOU hurriedly through the obscure alley, the only sounds that can be heard are your heavy breathing and harsh footsteps on the damp concrete below. Your heart pounds in your chest, feeling as if it might break through the cavity as adrenaline courses through your veins. It is the only thing that motivates you to keep going.

You were running for, what seemed to be, your life.

You wore a loose black tank top and a pair of maroon tights to match, feet sporting a pair of black shoes, and your hair was pulled back. It was not your ideal choice of clothing, but it was the only type that was flexible enough for you to move freely without getting in your way, and the dark shades and colors helped you blend in with the shadows of the night.

You nearly slip and fall as you come to a dead-end in the alley and let out a silent curse under your breath. You can hear movement behind you, growing closer quickly. You knew there were only a few seconds before he caught up and finished what he started. You were almost at the checkpoint, and then you’d be home free, safe from this maniac.

You need to act, or you’d be up shits creek without a paddle.

Your gaze scans the alley walls before locking it on a fire escape. Gritting Your teeth together, you bolt for the ladder and begin climbing with a speed you didn't know was possible for your small human form. Just as you reach the top few bars, a harsh 'thunk' echoes below on the fire escape, jarring the whole thing and sending a violent shake up the metal frame.

“Mother fucker,” You whisper, lighting a fire under your ass as you try to hurry the hell up before you get caught. You grip the rooftop's ledge, feeling the brick bite into your palms as you pull yourself up."Shit shit shit," You hiss. 

 Almost there. 

As you scramble over the ledge, your foot snags on the brick which prompts you to nearly fall. With the newfound reflexes you have earned over the past four months, you tuck and roll, jumping back to your feet as you proceed to run like Karen at a black Friday sale. Your steps never falter nor waver, even when you jump on an AC unit to climb up on a different building. Every move was timed and precise and you couldn’t help but feel pride in the fact you haven’t face-planted yet.

The sound of a low grunt came from behind you, the low growl that followed sent a shiver up your spine and caused gooseflesh to rise on your skin. He’s close! And with that thought in mind, you took a hard left, nearly at the checkpoint.

Finally, after what seems like forever, you fixate your gaze on a makeshift pole in the middle of a roof only feet away. It was adorned with a tattered red cloth that flapped in the night breeze, posing as a flag. You quickly run over, yanking the tiny red flag off the pole before you throw your arms in the air, letting out a loud 'hell yeah' as you dance around with the fabric in your hands.

You made it, nothing could stop you—

You were so focused on your celebration to notice the large figure that was moving toward you from the shadows. A rather loud gasp slips past your lips as something solid hits your shoulder, and muscular arms embrace your figure as you roll across the roof, eventually landing on the ground with a thud. The weight of the figure restrained you, locking your hips on the ground as your wrists were pinned together by large, calloused hands.

When you were finally flat on your back, arms pinned above your head. The expression on your face is as sharp as a knife, annoyance bubbling in the pits of your stomach as you glare up at the figure. "Dammit, Raphael! I fucking got the flag, you asshole!"

 The corners of his mouth twitch into that familiar smirk as he stares down at you, his emerald eyes shining with amusement. "Sorry, Sweetheart, didn't see a flag."

And this is how the last four months were spent. You hated how weak you felt that day when Shredder nearly destroyed New York, and possibly the whole world. So, stupidly, you asked Master Splinter to train you — what you didn't expect was for the old rat to assign his second eldest son to train you himself. It made sense, Raphael was more versed in hand-in-hand combat with his itty-bitty forks, but he could be such an ass sometimes.

At first, it was terrible for you. For the first few weeks, you’d come home bruised and sore. April was always fussing over your well-being, saying you were too young to die. (a little dramatic even for you), But as time went on you started to grow stronger and more agile. You were juggling college and also made time to visit the brothers. To say Raphael wasn't impressed with your drive would be a lie. 

You were determined, he'd give you that.

But on the days that you weren't training, you’d be in the lab with Donnie. The genius turtle was nice enough to help you study for your upcoming tests that would determine if you were ready to move on with your life and get the job you so longed for. You only had a few years of college left, and you were working hard, finally taking your life into your own hands and molding it into what you wanted. 

"I still beat you this time — you didn't catch me." You panted as you wriggled in his firm grip.

He was holding you gently enough not to hurt your smaller wrists, but hard enough so you couldn’t escape.

Raph just stared down at you for a moment, his eyes taking in the bead of sweat that was forming on your neck and collarbone. Your hair now sticking out from your up-do in some spots, and your eyes, which usually held a storm, seemed to glow in the dark lighting around them. You weren't wearing your glasses, which was something he liked because it gave him a chance to see your beautiful eyes better.

You stare up at him, head tilting to the side as Raphael studies you silently. It was times like these when you wondered what he was thinking. This wasn't the first time he stared at you like that.

Another second passed, and that was when you realized his grip had been lost, so you took this as your chance to turn the tables. You knew you were too small to do any damage or cause much force for his hulking form, but if there was one thing Raphael made sure to teach you, it was obstructing your opponent's balance. 

With as much strength as you can build up, you jerk your arms down, effectively knocking your elbows to his large knees. Raphael lets out a grunt of surprise as you thrust your hips up, causing him to fall forward from the unexpected move, his three-pronged hands snapping out to catch himself. During his shock at the fact, you somehow managed that, he feels two arms slip around his lower waist before you start to climb his body. 

Just as Raph went to reposition himself, he felt you plant your feet on the ground between his legs, your smaller body still pressed against his plastron, before you kick your legs up and push off the ground with your dominate side, the sudden action causing him to lose balance and fall over. 

Now straddling him, Raph had to take a moment to process what had just happened, not realizing all the training they had done had given you that much strength to be able to roll his bulking body. It was an obvious indicator that you’ve been holding back this week. 

You lean closer to his face, a sly grin slipping on your lips as his eyes widen up at you. "Pinned ya," You quote, internally giggling at the thought of using a Lion King reference in this position. 

Raphael felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest at your proximity, and he was sure if you got any closer, you’d hear it. He opens and closes his mouth for a moment, unable to form a proper sentence as his heart thumped in his ears, blood rushing through his veins and causing him to grow hot. Before he could die from sheer embarrassment at the fact you had this effect over the tough-guy front he held, a loud beep came from his shell.

You took a moment to process he was now staring at you expectingly, and with a rushed apology, you climbed off and adjusted your take top that had risen. Raphael made you messy, and messy made things dangerous. It took a moment for you to settle your heart as you inhaled deeply, eyes drifting to the brute as he sat back up and pulled out his T-Phone.

Raphael stands as he clears his throat, eyes locked on the screen while typing a quick response to whoever texted him before looking back at you. Back was his usual confidence as a wolfish smirk twitched at the corner of his scarred lips, "Hey Doll, how 'bout we call it a night and head back to the lair?" He glances over your form as if he has no control over his own eyes. "Mikey got yer' favorite pizza,"

That last comment had your eyes rounding in delight, a grin forming on your face. "Pineapple?" 

Raphael grimaces, "Yeah, Pineapple," The terrapin still couldn’t understand the thought of pineapple on pizza. It just didn't sound appetizing, though, he's never dared to try it. 

You were now smiling so big, it made the skin on your face glow in the light from the moon, reflecting the soft light of the stars. It was like a heavenly vision of perfection. Raphael felt as though his brain short-circuited for a moment as you said, "You don't have to tell me twice,"

Raphael could only blink as you quickly ran off, heading to the ladder so you could indulge in your strange choice of Pizza. 

"Red, I don't understand why I have to wear this stupid thing just to get a slice of pizza." You complained about the millionth time since you entered the sewers, your nose scrunched underneath the stinky fabric of the pillowcase. You had only got to the fire escape before the bara of a turtle stopped you, claiming if you wanted to eat your lovely pizza, then you had to follow some rules.

Which was ridiculous, but you wanted that damn pizza, and you’d do anything for it. Food was the way to your heart.

Raph rolled his eyes, catching your shoulder when you almost tripped over your own feet. "Jus’ trust me," Is all he says.

Upon entering the lair, his green eyes lock on his three brothers. Donnie stands beside Leo, knowing grins on both of their faces while Mikey is practically buzzing on his feet, his lips rolling into his mouth as he tries to suppress the chortles that are building up. They all watch silently as Raphael escorts you across the lair before pulling you to an open door, and nudging you inside a room with his knuckles.

Raphael could feel the nerves start to web around his heart, turning his attention to his brothers as they entered the room with you both. He felt so out of his element here, never being the type of guy to give someone a surprise that he had worked so hard on. Raph’s eyes slowly drift to his older brother, looking for an out but was only met by an encouraging nod and knowing smirk from the leader as they locked eyes.

Shit. Raphael swallows thickly, his palms feeling sweaty as he reaches over and grabs the top of the pillowcase, pulling it off in one swift movement.

It takes a moment for Your eyes to adjust, but when they do, you instantly start scanning around, taking in the room as Mikey throws his arms in the air with a wide grin on his face, "Surprise, Babette!!"

Your mouth slacks in awe at the sight, forehead creasing in confusion as you turn to look up at Raphael. An anxious look is on his face as he stares down at you, watching your reaction, lips flat.

"I-Is this for me?"

The largest terrapin nods, "Yeah..."

You can’t believe what you were looking at. The room was a rather cute setup, which looked like an attempt at a teenage girl’s bedroom. There was a stack of box palettes in the corner of the room, multiple thick blankets folded as a makeshift mattress, and pillows neatly leaning against the concrete wall (which looked oddly similar to the ones back in your bedroom). A few other things, like your stuffies—fucking embarrassing—and your bean bag chair, you recognized.

They made a room for you, and you had the inkling idea that your sister helped.

You felt a smile on your lips, knowing the guys most likely took these things from the apartment to set this up, but you honestly didn't care. You were more touched by the fact that they took the time to even do this for you.

Your eyes followed Mikey as he rushed around the room, shell nearly knocking a few things over as he spun around to face you with his candid grin, his blue eyes twinkling.

"So whatcha think, Babe?"

You didn't know what to say, "You guys did this for me?"

Leo smirked across at Raph, who was seeming to have trouble answering for himself at the moment, to caught up in the endearing look on your face, "We helped, but it was mainly Raph who planned it, and April gave us the stuff –  We all agreed that since you spend most of your time here, you need a room of your own so you're not sleeping on the couch."

Raphael lets out a long breath that he didn’t know he was holding as he watches your face brighten with a smile. He tries to gather his bearings as you slowly turn your attention back to him, the smile on your lips only curving higher, and he feels like one of his Sia’ pierces his heart at the sudden ache of wanting to touch overwhelms him.

Leo shares a silent look with Donnie, jerking his chin toward the kitchen before motioning for Mikey to come with them, and the three leave to give you both some privacy. You pay no mind to their departure as you glance away and walk deeper into the room, your eyes wide as you take everything in. It honestly wasn't bad, and it was honestly way better than your room topside. You can’t stop the smile that continues to grow on your face.

Raphael, who tracks your every move, takes a seat on the bed carefully being mindful of his weight. His eyes watch as you pretty much touch everything, your expression looking like a kid shopping for candy. It isn't until your gaze locks on a movie that you snap out of your reverie state.

You snatch up the movie and turn to face him, holding it between your fingers as a smirk replaces your smile, "Batman?"

He gives you a crooked smirk, gaze playfully sharpening only a little. "I only watched it once,"

You let your eyes dance around the room for a second, a mock look of curiosity growing on your face, "Did you bring breath mints too?" You question, referring to your first encounter with the brute. That night you and April discovered their existence; not only did you make a jab at his breath, but you also said he sounded constipated when attempting the Batman voice. It was a moment that was forever burned in both of your memories.  

A chuckle vibrates from his chest, "Shut up," His face shifts as he looks down.

You felt like a mess as you stood beside the shelf, the movie lying limp in your grasp as your heart went thump, thump, thump. All you could do was inhale through your nose as a new mood filled the atmosphere, and your heart started to insist on beating out of your chest the longer you stared at Raphael. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, his gaze finding his tattered shorts more interesting as he played with a drawstring that hung from the waistband. You made a mental note to get him some new clothes for his upcoming birthday.

Maybe it was the hit you took tonight, or the fact he had done something so, so sweet for you, but you couldn’t explain the feeling that suddenly takes hold of your body as your feet decide for you and begin moving in the terrapin's direction.

Being the observant ninja he is, Raphael quickly jerked his gaze upward upon hearing your light footsteps, his mask shifting as you came to a stop in front of him. If his heart was racing before, it was pounding now. With a soft smile, you reach a hand up, eyes searching his own for those walls he tended to build in moments of vulnerability. When you saw no indication of him doing such, you closed the gap and placed your hand on his cheek, your thumb softly rubbing the texture of his unique skin.

Raphael rarely showed his soft side around anyone, but it was times like these when he did, that you took advantage of it. Spending nearly every day with somebody for over four months, you end up learning a lot about them. Especially Raph, who could be really easy to read if you knew just what to look for.

At your touch, His eyes grow slightly hooded as he stares up at you, his breath catching in his throat as the muscles in his neck twitch, "Trouble…" His gravelly voice is surprisingly soft, softer than you’d ever heard from him before.

Raphael usually radiated power, his towering body just demanding attention as he walked into a room. Yet in this moment, all that exuding power was sucked dry the moment you touched him. This gives you the courage to lean in closer to him, gaze traveling over his face, taking in every scar and imperfection as you grow closer to him. You felt your heart rate spike when his eyes dropped to your lips and suddenly, they grew a shade darker, pupils dilating. His large hands slowly reach up and wrap around your waist, tugging your smaller figure closer to him.

The second he brought you closer, a small breathy sound came from your lips and your hands landed flat on the top part of his plastron. Raphael couldn’t help the deep rumble that vibrated out of his chest as your scent engulfed him, the vines of your favorite shampoo and body wash, mixed with the sweet sweat from your workout out was fogging his mind as it wrapped around and squeezed.

He felt the primal instinct to just reach up, bury his beak in the soft flesh of your neck and just taste.

Gripping the loose fabric of your tank top, he felt the tips of his fingers graze the soft skin just under the edge, and that feeling alone made his desires more severe. He licked his lips, intense gaze on your mouth as you mimicked his movement subconsciously. He smirked at that, realizing you were paying just as much attention to him as he was to you. Raphael was never good with his words, actions were more his way of expressing how he felt. That was why he made you a room, so you could have your own space, and maybe want to stick around longer (though you already practically lived there) he wanted you in the lair, so he knew you were safe from anything and everything. He was fucking crazy for you, and the thought made him tighten his hold around your waist as another churr vibrated from his chest.

Your body felt like it was on fire, a shiver going down your spine when you heard that deep rumble. What was that? You had thought when you heard it. None of the brothers had ever made a noise like that before, and you’d definitely be googling it, or asking Donnie about it later.

Even while standing, the hothead was an inch taller, his thick arms flexing as he all but pressed you against him, his legs spread and inviting you in. He hunched only a smidge, bulking form swallowing you as he dropped his snout to your neck as if he could no longer resist. You closed your eyes at the skin-to-skin contact, chills running through you as euphoria filled your brain. Was this what it was like to have him touch? Because if was, you’d get on your hands and knees, begging for him to do it again if that’s what it took.

“Raphael,” You whisper as you place a hand on the nape of his neck, your hands trailing his pebbled skin before stopping where his shell met his back. His body trembled at the touch to the sensitive skin. You crane your neck so he can have better access while he sniffs and nips at your soft skin. There was a tiny moan at the tip of your tongue when he trails up, leaning back just enough to hover his mouth over yours.

Raphael’s mind was reeling when he heard how you said his name in a breathless whisper, and he felt his tail twitch. The sight of your body pressed against him had a rough rumble coming from him once more, and the fact you were so small against his larger form didn’t help in the slightest. The size difference was blatantly obvious, yet somehow, you fit together perfectly.

Minds alike, they both want more. No. You both need more.

And just before your lips meet, a voice stops you both.

"Pizza's ready!"

Dammit Michelangelo.

You both instantly snap back into reality, and you nearly fall on your butt from how quickly you move away. Your mouth parts as you stare at Raphael, not knowing what to say or do at that moment. Your heart was pounding so strongly that you feared it would break your ribcage.

Raphael was your best friend, and you almost kissed him.

Rough features stared back at you, eyes slightly wide as he was unable to form words. He feared that he had just imagined it all. There was no way a girl like you would ever want to kiss a mutant like him, but as soon as a smile began to blossom on your face and you gave him a shy look followed by an amused giggle, he knew what just happened wasn't his imagination.

And so, he did what he always wanted to do from the first moment you opened that smartass mouth of yours and popped off.

In one swift movement, he was standing up and moving across the room toward you, his strong hands grabbing the sides of your face as he bent lower and crushed your lips together in a hungry kiss. You didn't hesitate to return the gesture. You slant your head as lips move quickly against his, hands falling onto the front of his hard plastron. You felt yourself move forward and step on his feet, leaning up on the tips of your toes, trying to deepen the kiss as his hands fell to your lower back, pulling you up.

Raphael began to walk you back wards and when your back touched the wall, that was when you snapped back to reality, and all movement seized as you slowly pulled your lips from his, eyes locking as chests rose and fell at a rapid pace.

Raphael stares down at you, one bulking arm bracing the wall beside your head as his eyes quickly scan your reaction, expecting to see regret and disgust pooling in those pretty eyes he had begun to love so much. Yet, as he stared at you, he realized you weren't looking at him like that at all, no, your eyes were clouded with what seemed to be admiration.

As if you could read his thoughts and hear all his insecurities, you reached up and ran your hands over his masked face, pulling him by the hanging tails to capture his lips in another kiss. This one is a lot softer than the first. And as you pull away again, three words leave your lips that sent his heart into a beating frenzy and made a toothy grin spread across his face.

"I love you,"

[catiecat1320]

Chapter 3 of 11!! [MasterPost]

I will soon be making a masterpost for this fic, stay tuned!

Read Below🔽

Shadow fidgeted with the strap of his bag, eyeing the door in front of him as if it were the Gates of Hell. He looked at the now crumpled card sitting in his palm again, now covered in both his scribbles and Sonic’s, just to be sure this was the right place, right time.

Why was it so damn hard to knock?

Anxiety crawled like ants up his esophagus, making him want to hurl. What if he messed things up? What if the email he sent was missing something important or gave Sonic a weird impression and now he didn’t want to see him anymore? What if, what if…

Calm down. Breathe. Inhale. Count to three. Exhale. Count to three. Repeat.

Attempting to ground himself, he rubbed the lapel of his coat furiously, that single spot so warm from friction it might as well catch fire at this point. Focus, focus. 

This place wasn’t super imposing to look at. He’d passed this place by when he was picking up Cream, in fact. The door looked nearly identical to the one he’d stood before just a couple days prior. Labeled on a silver plaque just beside the door frame as “Music Room,” he assumed this was where Amy kept instruments for her dance classes. She must’ve lent this place to Sonic for the time being.

Taking another deep breath, Shadow inched closer, shoving the anxiety down with the the intent to just knock—

And then a blue blur slid past his peripheral, tapping him on the shoulder and nearly giving him a heart attack. 

“HOLY SHIT— I-I mean, shoot—” he choked as he whipped around in a panic, all thoughts flushed out in favor of shock as his mind struggled to realign itself with what was happening. What was happening?

Shadow’s surprise attacker doubled over, wheezing so hard tears beaded at the corners of his eyes. His hood had succumbed to gravity and flipped over his quills, but it wasn’t hard to tell who this was. 

“I. can’t breathe, oh my Chaos, you should’ve seen the look on your face— I, you—” Sonic trailed off in another fit of laughter, interrupted only to gasp for breath. Shadow did not find it amusing at all, however, embarrassment pulling a blush out, not helped by how fast his heart was already pumping from the scare.

But glee was contagious, and the pianist smiled beneath his burning cheeks despite himself. 

Several moments and unsuccessful attempts to stop later, Sonic’s face was almost as red as Shadow’s from sheer lack of air. Making a futile attempt to compose himself, he coughed, inhaled obnoxiously loudly, then put a hand to the wall to stabilize himself. “Fuck,” he gasped, rubbing his face and letting out a puff of air. “Sorry, eh? Got mobbed by some fans on the way here and needed that laugh. Fame is annoying sometimes. I hope I haven’t kept ya waiting for too long.” He fished in his pocket, pulling out a keychain that probably weighed a pound, stuck full of decorations and mini fidgets more than anything. Flipping through the part that actually had keys, Sonic picked the wrong one twice before actually unlocking the door.

“Hey. Y’know you can cuss around me, right?” The dancer giggled, flashing a toothy grin. He combed his free hand through his quills, the hood stuck there flopping against his back. “No need to censor yourself, you’re going to make me feel improper.”

Shadow just nodded, unsure how to respond as he trailed into the room. The last thing he wanted to do was make a bigger fool of himself. He couldn’t deny, though, Sonic’s silly antics had eased the anxiety of meeting the idol one-on-one.

…at least for now.

………………………………

Shadow had expected… well he wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this. A more formal setting, perhaps? With the mirror and barre lining one wall, it was clear that this was originally a dance studio, repurposed to store the instruments that were now callously shoved in one corner. He could see what looked like a violin or viola, an electric keyboard (they should cover that), among a couple other things. But what caught his attention most was the grand piano that sat nearer to the center.

Sonic yanked open the blinds on the window, letting the sun illuminate everything in a healthy dose of natural light. Shadow couldn’t help but notice the way he moved, footwork unnecessarily fancy as he flitted around the room, almost as if he were still on stage, dancing for an imaginary audience.

A voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Well?”

Blush resurfaced in tan cheeks as he realized he’d been staring. Making a half-hearted gesture at the dancer, he gave up on the idea of trying to save face and just sat down at the piano. Sonic subsequently bounced over and made himself at home on top of the closed lid, which made for an awkward experience. Well, awkward for Shadow, seeing as he would be left trying to look everywhere but the famous face right in front of him… 

At least the dancer was nice about it, assuring that he would get off if necessary.

It was fine. Ignorance can’t possibly be that hard. He could just focus on the blank music rack. Focus, focus. Just start. 

Flexing his fingers, he closes his eyes and envisions the music score. 

Playing by memory wasn’t hard for him. He had always been good at it, and having to teach little kids how to play things over and over had effectively ingrained even the toughest of classics into his head perfectly. But still, he couldn’t help the worry that his mind would suddenly fail him— to blank now would be a nightmare.

Thankfully, he seemed to be fine on that aspect, music flowing easily as water from a faucet. The more notes he hit, the more he relaxed, the steady familiarity soothing his nerves. This piano was bigger than the one he had at home, he noted absentmindedly, which made sense as there was a lot more space here. It only contributed to improving the sound quality, but since this wasn’t a specially built room, it wasn’t as ideal as the ones he performed in when he was in college. But the disadvantage was slight, at least as far as he remembered.

His eyes wandered over to the mirror. It was the first time he’d ever seen himself play in real time, and he couldn’t help but smile at his reflection, straightening a little to capture that perfect posture. And of course, there was the hedgehog perched on the lid. From this angle, the pianist could only see a glimpse of his face, the mirror more prominently displaying royal blue quills, sprinkled with a few strays that stuck out unbeknownst to the idol. 

Then Sonic turned his head. Oh, Chaos. Despite it being only a reflection, despite not even seeing the idol’s full face, Shadow’s heart skipped a beat. He could practically feel the burn of emerald eyes on him, not daring to turn directly at them.

Sonic looked the most serious he’d ever seen him, a sharp contrast from the giggling mess he’d been moments prior. His furrowed brow and faint frown only served to heighten Shadow’s rapidly resurfacing anxiety.

Was he doing something wrong?

Tension broke through when the dancer shifted, turning to the mirror and motioning for him to pause. That sharp gaze bounced off like a laser, and Shadow immediately yanked his eyes away from the wall. 

They sat in unnerving quiet, the only sound coming from Sonic’s gloved fingers tapping idly against his knee and the tight breaths of the pianist that he did not speak to. He’d folded his legs up onto the piano lid, criss-crossed, and it would’ve seemed like he was meditating had it not been for the constant movement.

That did not help Shadow’s panic at all. Something had to have gone awry. He couldn’t think of a reason for Sonic to have stopped him otherwise. What was it? He didn’t catch anything out of the ordinary. Had it been a big mistake? He would’ve noticed that himself, right? 

This was bad, this was bad… out of habit, he bit his lip, hard, ears pinning against his head as he fidgeted with his fingers.

He must have looked pretty pathetic, because when Sonic finally got out of his head and looked over, he scoffed and said, “Calm down, it’s not that serious. You played it perfectly, as far as i can tell, but it’s missing something.”

“W-what?” Shadow stressed. “What’s that supposed to mean?” If he hadn’t made any mistakes, then what was wrong? He felt like he was going to combust. Subconsciously, he tapped on the keys with fleeting fingers, ghosts of sounds drifting from the piano in a flickering melody. It was a little trick that he liked to use to calm down quietly, without harming anything or smashing the keys at 10 PM and accidentally receiving three noise complaints. 

(Yes, that’s happened before— he got really frustrated, okay?)

It was so instinctive for him at this point that he hadn’t even realized he was doing it until Sonic perked up in interest and he stopped at the movement.

“Wait… do that again.”

Shadow frowned. “This?” He rapidly ghosted the keys again, anxiety shifting to confusion, thoroughly lost on what was happening. Why focus on his quirky stress relief of all things? He wanted to know what went wrong.

Sonic must have sensed his inner turmoil, huffing and getting up on his haunches before rethinking his position on the sensitive piano and hopping to the floor. “It’s… a thing,” he said, absentmindedly twirling his foot, which evolved into a quick 360 spin. “It’s stupidly hard to explain, but at the same time, it’s really simple. But, like, I can feel things, y’know?”

Shadow did not know. He scrunched the fabric of his pants in his fists, mirroring the feeling in his gut, his confusion going in increasingly tighter circles. What?

Despite having said that it was hard to explain, Sonic looked disappointed at his perplexed expression. “I was hoping you’d get me… not that it’s your fault that you don’t, of course,” he reassured quickly. He popped his lips at his reflection, pacing idly as he spoke. “It’s just, you seem to do it. Without realizing. It’s like… a form of communication, almost. But through actions, and in your case, music. Yeah, uh… I probably sound insane, which may be a little true.”

He glanced back over at Shadow, who hadn’t moved an inch, still utterly fixated on trying to interpret the meaning of his words. “Hey. You alright?”

“I… don’t understand,” the pianist mumbled, staring numbly at a spot on the floor as he tried to force the puzzle together in his head.

“Hm. No need to look so devastated, mister.” Sonic assured, pressing the piano key closest to him. A high pitched ring sounded, echoing throughout the largely empty room. “Many have tried, and all have failed. And I suppose on a level, not even I truly understand what’s going on. It’s something you have to experience to really know.”

“Well… how am I supposed to do that if I don’t know what I’m feeling for?” Shadow returned, pressing a second note to balance the first. 

If there was one thing he hated the most, it was the unknown, uncertain. He had to know every nook and cranny before feeling comfortable with a task. The mystery Sonic set in front of him only served for unceasing frustration. Not only did he accept the idol’s offer of partnership without understanding all the details, but also this? He needed to understand.

Sadly, Sonic gave him no satisfaction. “You’ll know,” he replied cryptically, “it’s a special feeling.”

Shadow groaned involuntarily, clapping his hands over his mouth as soon as it escaped. Wide eyes snapped to the dancer, who only laughed breathily. “You’re one of those people who need to know everything, aren’t you? Hmhm, you and Tails would hit it off.” He patted Shadow’s shoulder sympathetically. “You’ll have to make do with not knowing. Because if I tried to explain it, we’d be here all year. Believe me.”

“Anyway, I… well, I shouldn’t take all the credit, but for simplicity’s sake, I’ve found that the best way to evoke that connection in music is through improvisation. You know how to do that?”

At the pianist’s reluctant headshake, Sonic flashed him one of his famous smiles, said by one of the many articles he sifted through to be bright enough to rival sunshine. Faced with it, Shadow could see where that comparison came from. 

“Well! That’s your assignment. Learn about it! Because…” As if on cue, his watch rang in the familiar song of an incoming call. “I may have forgotten that I have somewhere to be. Like right now. Important things for my charity performance tomorrow, hm? Last contracted performance with my previous pianist and her boyfriend, the violinist you heard on stage when we first met. Oh yeah! Papers, papers.” Sonic looked around frantically, letting the call die out as his eyes land on the duffel bag stowed away in the corner, blending in seamlessly with the instrument cases. He hopped over and retrieved a folder from it. “Tails, my lil’ brother, by the way, yelled at me two days ago after I told him about you and what I said— or didn’t say. Which, he was right, but don’t tell him I said that.”

Shadow took the folder, very clearly labeled Give to Shadow on the front. It was different handwriting from the one on the business card, so he figured it was Tails’ doing. 

“I’m very… unorthodox. With a dash of unorganized. But you understood me, right? Everything went fine, so no worries there. But in that folder is… stuff. Like official contract shenanigans. Don’t ask me to explain it, because I don’t know what most of it is. You probably know better than me! If you do have any questions, Tails’ contact info is in there. My number is in there, too, and you still have my private email, right? Don’t give those to anyone, by the way, because I have enough people spamming me. No need to fuel the stalkers, yeah? And… oh, I need your number—”

His watch rang again, effectively ending his ramble. Sonic puffed out his cheeks in exasperation. “Alright, alright, I get it,” he muttered to no one in particular. “Just. Call me, or text me, or whatever— contact me, okay, Shadow? Later. Bye!” 

He dashed out, door swinging wildly in his wake, before Shadow could get another word in. Not that he had recovered from everything that just got dumped on him in the first place, but he was getting a little annoyed at the suddenness of the things Sonic constantly pulled.

Amy was right. He was difficult.

Sighing, the musician tucked the precious folder into his bag. Closing the fallboard on the piano keys, he organized the room a bit to calm his nerves, taking care to stack the instruments neatly (he may have tuned all of them as well). Pulling the blinds down before he left, he began rearranging his schedule in his mind on the drive home.

This was going to take a lot of commitment.

[ghostssweetgirl]

crazy over you ~ simon ghost riley x reader slow burn/enemies to lovers

description: y/n gets transferred to task force 141 and quickly becomes friends with soap and gaz, but her and ghost "hate" each other for the first part. warnings: mentions of violence and death (duh), alcohol intake, smoking (at some point), nsfw (at some point), subtle flirting with soap. i'm new to writing? so don't expect this to be the greatest. this is not in line with the game campaigns or missions. the only characters i included are y/n, soap, gaz, price, & ghost. i have no knowledge of the military this is just creativity disclaimer: i do not own modern warfare or any of its characters.

chapters: next [cold weather] last

Making sure you're packed, you head outside to meet everyone who is just now packing their bags in the common room. Ghost cleans his knives and wipes down his pistol.

Price informs everyone that we won't arrive until after dark and to prepare for a long, cold ride causing everyone to complain. It was obvious how much everyone disliked long car rides, you did too. 

--

You bundled up in a blanket on the car ride, sitting next to Gaz. Thankful you'll have a calm car buddy, you don't find sleeping beside him to be awkward.  

Soap made it hard for you to sleep, though. There was no music playing, but he sang his heart out, annoying everyone along the ride.

"Shut the fuck up, will you, Johnny?" Ghost beckoned.

"Fuck off, mate," Soap retorted.

You rolled your eyes at them arguing, already tired of this shit.

Ghost turned his head back, annoyingly staring at Soap, who mimicked Ghost's thick accent.

"ShUt ThE FuCk Up, JoHnNy!" Soap flinched at Ghost, a poor attempt at joking with the man.

Ghost threw a quick punch at Soap from the passenger seat, Soap then smacked the Lieutenant's hands away. 

You and Gaz look at each other, both unamused.

"Stop the bickering, you fuckin' idiots! Bloody tired of it already!" Price sounded agitated, he must have had to deal with this a lot between those two.  "Not doin' this shit the whole ride."

--

Finally arriving after the ride, Soap and Ghost set up the vast tent everyone will be sharing, while Price made a fire. You and Gaz unloaded everyone's belongings, bringing them inside the tent.

The snow crunches underneath your footsteps, snow flying everywhere. You hugged yourself as the cold air hit your face, shivering. "Fuck, it's cold."

You were definitely not used to this type of cold, it had to be below zero degrees. You instantly bundle up with a blanket around you, sitting on top of one of the sleeping bags. Gaz is doing the same, but Soap, Ghost, and Price stay outside keeping the fire fed. 

"I-I can't w-wait to get this m-mission over with," you attempted to speak through shivers.

Gaz was breathing hot air into his blanket and shaking his head 'yes' in agreement. 

Soap shoves his head through the tent entrance, "Fire's goin'. Come get warm, y'guys."

--

You sit between Price and Soap, getting as close to the fire as you can. 

"Haven't felt cold like this in a while, huh, boys?" Price chuckled, sucking on his cigar.

"Nah," they all replied in unison. 

"I'll make tea," Ghost said, getting up as he grabbed a kettle and some cups, setting it up over the fire.

Soap nudges your shoulder, "L.T.'s famous tea, lass. He doesn't make it often," Soap smiled, obviously excited.

You smiled, nodding in acknowledgment. "It'll definitely keep me warm."

You hold out your hands, receiving warmth while the boys chatter about past missions they went on. Price talks about one of Soap's injuries, "Don't know how ya made it out alive, mate. Damn glad you're still here. Tough as nails, y'are."

"Aye," Soap chuckled, scratching his head. "Ghost saved my ass, as always, that guy."

You watched everyone through comments, praises, and remarks at each other. You laughed at some of the stories, not wanting to ruin their moment.

Ghost hands out cups of hot tea to everyone, you being the last one. He takes a seat in between you and Soap.

You started thinking you should have sat closer, not allowing any room. You keep quiet, though as you sip your tea which was surprisingly good, reminding you of your past. "Mmm."

"Told'y it's good, lass," Soap cheered to you.

"It... is good," you agree. "I actually used to drink a lot of tea... at home."

"Thanks, Lieutenant."

"Yep," he replied as he lifted his mask to sip.  

"Y/n... can I ask you something?" Soap looked at you.

"Sure," you return the look, noticing Ghost is listening as well.

"Do you... have anyone waiting for your return? Or family at home?"

You look down and take a long sip, thinking about how to answer. "Uh, no I... I don't. I have family, but they were... not great at all. My parents disowned me a long time before I joined, but my joining made them cut all contact once and for all. Honestly, I don't care that much, or allow myself to... care. Do you have anyone?"

"Not really, either. Was referred by my cousin, he's why I joined," he laughed. "I lied about my age a handful of times trying to get in, ha. But, nah."

"Ah," you understand. "Do you, Ghost?"

"Negative," Ghost answered shortly.

"Oh," you don't know what else to say, at least the three of you related on that level. You didn't want to interrupt Gaz and the captain, so you didn't prod them either. 

"My family was quite shit, too," Ghost sighed. "Abusive father..."

He trailed off before adding a few other gruesome details, your face contorted into worry as he kept going, but you honestly related having been in an abusive home as well. Not to the extent Ghost endured, but relatable in a sense. After he stopped talking, you didn't know what to say. Sorry? No. I understand? No. I'm here for you? No. Mouth opening and closing, you were interrupted by Soap.

"I'm fuckin' tired!"

Everyone agreed, finishing their drinks.

"We need to rest," Price stood up at last. "We get up in the morning and we head to the tower."

Everyone gathered in the tent, and you ended up being placed between Gaz and Soap. At least you weren't next to Ghost.

--

You wake up to everyone shuffling around and you freak out, thinking you're late, quickly shooting up to put your boots and backpack on.

"Morning, kid," Price greeted you. "Jus' getting a head start, get ready."

"Yes, sir," you obeyed as you packed your sleeping bag and blankets up, walking out to the cold air to put them in the vehicle. Fuck it's fucking cold. 

--

Driving up close to the area, everyone scans the periphery of the area, seeing no enemies. No targets on any sensors, and everyone moves out, weapons in hand. 

You approach the tower and say, "Holy fuck, we got to blow that up?" as you turn to Gaz.

"Yep, it's gonna go boom," he smiles. "But, the best part? We climb up it, placing a shit ton of explosives, then zip down, walk away... and watch it go."

You gulp, not because you were thinking of a huge explosion, not even the tower falling. It's going to make a lot of noise. 

--

Climbing up the tower, placing hooks, and attaching a zipline was probably the easiest part even if it took forever. You didn't dare look down, though. Soap and Gaz placed all of the remote explosives. 

Over the intercoms, you hear:

"Soap, this is Price, how copy?"

"Solid, captain. Explosives placed."

"Right on. When you're ready, zip down. Gotta get this show on the road. If they didn't know where we are, they're about to."

Soap nodded at Gaz then at you. "Ready, guys?"

You held your breath, "Okay, fuck, I don't like heights like this. Like, the falling down-"

Gaz cut you off, "Gotta deal with it, Diamond. Or else die up here."

Gaz attaches the line to his belt, zipping down. Soap waves you over and attaches the next clip to your belt. "When you're ready, lass."

You suck in, and zip down, feeling a rush of adrenaline as you fix your feet, ready to land. You land with a thump and suddenly you didn't feel sick anymore. Soap quickly joined you and Gaz, and you guys run to the woods to meet the rest of the group. 

--

"1..."

"2..."

"3!" Price counted, pressing a single button and you watch in awe as the huge tower catches on fire, explosions dancing as the tower collapses. 

"Everybody, run!" Price ordered, pointing in the direction where the vehicle was parked. 

Just like that, enemies yelled while they rushed you all, right when you all were so close to escaping. 

"Take cover!" Ghost yelled, leaning behind a rock while aiming at the rushing team.

You peek out, mounting your gun, taking shots at 4 different men, watching them fall. 

As Soap runs to join cover, he avoids every shot at him as he finally slides behind a nearby rock. 

Price calls a helo to come to retrieve the team.

"Chopper's on the way!" he called.

--

"Shit, where are these guys coming from?" you growled, reloading your gun.

The helo is about to land, and you're ordered to make your way to it. Most of the enemy team is wiped out, but one manages to shoot Ghost in his thigh. He groans as he takes a fall, crawling behind cover.

You run to him and take cover as well, eliminating the last enemy.

"Diamond, let's go!" Price and Soap yelled as they ran up on the chopper.

"Lieutenant! Shit, okay," you crouch down and tear the bottom of your shirt off, creating a makeshift tourniquet to wrap around his thigh. "It's going to be okay, Lieutenant. I got you."

"Y/l/n, go! Leave me, that's an order!" Ghost's shitty attempt caused his voice to break, and his chest heaves as he's in pain.

"You're losing a lot of fucking blood, I'm not leaving you here." 

You cut a slit in his pants, and wrap the cloth around his bloody thigh, tightening it and examining the area, deciding it'll do.

"I told you to leave me. That was an order, soldier!" he panted.

"I don't care. Up."

Price is yelling at you from the helo, "Diamond! Ghost! Get the fuck on!"

Ghost grunts as he gets up, and you hold him under his armpit and grab his belt, your smaller frame carrying a huge, injured man. 

"Bloody fuckin' hell..." 

Here you were, your smaller frame carrying the 'Ghost', determined to get the both of you out safely. His head lolled around as he has lost a lot of blood, you walked as fast as you could with the extra weight added onto you, finally approaching the helicopter before it left without you guys.

--

The guys made quick work of taking Ghost into their hands, giving him morphine, and taking care of the wound until they reached a hospital.

"Bloody hell," Price whispered under his breath.

[tobiasdrake]

The Disappearance of Nagato Yuki-chan, Episode 5 - Her Melancholy

You know what, that's fair. I'm still mad but that's fair.

Again, I love Haruhi, she is my character, but I want the first thing I see this episode to be Haruhi flung violently out the window. Here we go.

Okay, Yuki probably wouldn't violently fling Haruhi out the window. Running away crying in an anxiety panic is more believable.

But you, Ryoko. You can do this. I believe in you. You are the epitome of Lawful Menace and you can hurl that trespasser through that window. Here we go!

She is holding it. She is holding Yuki's chocolates.

I mean. Reasonably speaking, Haruhi is innocent of any wrongdoing here. She had no idea. She met a boy, wanted to hang out, and hit it off. She barely even knows these people. Haruhi has done nothing wrong.

If she and Yuki were pals and she knew about Yuki's crush, then yes. If Ryoko had done this, then it would be a huge betrayal and personal violation of Yuki's friendship. But Haruhi's under no obligation to hang back and refrain from flirting with guys she meets in case someone else had eyes on them first.

As... bizarre as it is to say given her behavior in the other show, Haruhi is not the Bad Guy (TM) here. Reasonably, Yuki is simply running into the brick wall of "You never made a move". A curse that afflicts many a neurodivergent and anxietous person with their first or even later crushes. She had her chance at the Christmas Party and even tried to shoot her shot, but she took it back and let it pass her by. Now a bolder and more confident person is scooping him up instead.

That is a reasonable assessment of what's happened.

However, I have watched Yuki agonize over her feelings for four episodes so I am not feeling reasonable. I want Haruhi hit by a truck.

For real, though, I do feel for Haruhi here. She has no idea why Ryoko's furious.

This is the kind of character drama where nobody's really in the wrong, and that's always the most heart-wrenching of all. Haruhi was right to take her chance but Ryoko is right to be livid over it.

Oh shit, she wasn't even flirting.

(Opportunity to research Japanese Valentine's Day unlocked. Today I Learned Something!)

Episode 4 even set this up with Mikuru and Tsuruya discussing obligation chocolate. Valentine's Day in Japan is celebrated by the practice of women giving chocolate to men, but there are two different kinds: Inexpensive obligation chocolate and handmade true feelings chocolate, the latter of which can be used as a romantic confession.

Obligation chocolates are given to whatever guys happen to be in your social space. Colleagues, friends, acquaintances, etc. Just to avoid hurting anybody's feelings. Which has come under fire for pressuring women into pacifying men, with many opting in recent years to give friendship chocolate instead to just the people they're close to.

But, in any case, obligation chocolate is what Haruhi was doing here. She was just participating in a holiday custom, whereas Yuki and Ryoko spent the better part of yesterday whipping up heartfelt true feelings chocolate for Kyon.

Awww

Okay she no longer needs to be thrown out the window. They totally faked me out back there.

(Partly because I didn't understand chocolate politics. I did think it was odd that Haruhi was casually handing Kyon what is clearly just a Hershey's bar from the corner store but I figured that was just Haruhi being the type to buy her chocolate rather than make it at home. I did not realize there were actually different cultural meanings to the different gestures.)

Did she know that? She popped by yesterday and Kyon told her, "Yeah, everyone went home so club's cancelled." And then the two of them went off and hung out instead.

How would Haruhi know that Yuki was preparing true feelings chocolate for Kyon?

Lawful Menace is as much of an emotional roller-coaster of First Time Feeling Things as Yuki is. She just hides it better.

Ryoko Asakura is this show's MVP. No question. I like how she cherry-taps her punch because she even at her wit's end, she can't bring herself to attack another person over something she knows, in the rational part of her brain, isn't their fault.

So she takes a moment to just. Break down. And cry. And work through her feelings. This is good. Meanwhile poor Haruhi isn't really consoling her so much as she winds up having to be breakdown adjacent.

Sometimes there's nothing you can say or do. Sometimes you just have to be breakdown adjacent.

Yuki is entirely to blame here. She saw chocolate and had a panic attack. Even though, unlike me, she's lived in this culture for her entire life and would know what obligation chocolate is.

Ryoko needs to throttle Yuki. With love. But also throttling.

There we go. Throttling with love.

She doesn't even realize she dropped the box.

So she didn't have a panic attack and flee. She's just. A disaster.

SHE WAS GIVING HARUHI PRIVACY TO WOO THE BOY SHE LIKES

Yuki. Yuki. Why are you the most precious thing ever to walk on Haruhi's green earth?

Yuki sitting there like, "I'll be okay with it if you like Kyon too."

And Ryoko's face like, "I won't. I'll cut a bitch."