#I AM JUST A BALL OF WORDS AND RAMBLING TODAY HUH

[callmeklair]

declaration

Chapter three

“do you wanna practice dancing with me at my house?”

- Yui’s Classroom, Ryoutei Academy :

"Kyaaa! Did you all see the notice board!? The annual prom is coming up, and it's going to be more lavish and exquisite this time than last years’." A female student exclaimed while talking to her other friends, who had surrounded themselves around her bench in a circle. Yui, who was sitting just beside them, heard their squealing. 

‘Prom...huh’ She has never attended a prom before as she was raised in church and went to some religious schools in her childhood. She wanted to attend it, yet at the same time not. One, because of her inexperience in dance, she doubts she won’t step on her partner’s or someone else's foot and second, will she even be able to find an escort? Well some boys have come here and there to her, but that was only for notes, nothing else. And as for Sakamakis and Mukamis, these both families’ boys are popular among girls, especially Sakamakis and Kou Mukami. 

‘Never mind, I won’t attend. In fact I can stay home and study for my finals, rather than wasting time on something I can't even do.’ 

“Komori-san! What do you think? Are you gonna join?” The female student who was screaming excitedly about this whole prom thing, asked Yui.

“Huh? Oh no. I am not good at dancing and I would rather study and prepare for my finals by sitting at home. My maths is weak, so it’s a good opportunity.” With a smile she gave the student an honest answer and continued reading the book she borrowed from the library a few days ago. 

“Oh no no no Yui. Prom is not all about dance, you know. There are many more things to do. Like best dress award, music, chatting, taking photos, having some time with your love- i mean friends. And on top of that, there will be so much food! It’s the most refreshing thing ever. You should give it a try.” The girl pleaded with Yui after rambling about the pros of attending prom as the blonde woman can’t do anything but shake her head and said she will think about it. Yui’s answer made the hope in the latter girl’s eyes sparkle and she introduced herself as Aria. 

After the first half of classes ended, Yui headed towards the rooftop to eat her snacks as it was recess time now. Aria, actually, pestered Yui to join her but she declined as she wanted to spend her time alone. 

"Should I participate?" Yui mumbled to herself.

"Participate in what?" 

'Huh!?' a voice questioned back her mumbling.

When she turned her head around, she saw fluttering pink hair in the air, coming towards her.

"Shin-kun? What are you doing here?" 

"Hmm? I asked a question first." 

…

"Oh! Sorry Shin. I was thinking about whether I should participate in prom or not. I don't know how to dance. Even though it's not all about dance, one way or another I gotta dance if someone asks me. So I was just pondering on that." 

When Yui looked up, she swears she didn’t mistake out his widened eyes, only if it was for a nanosecond.

"Prom? They are like balls right?" Shin asked, bending down to sit beside her.

"Uh-yeah that only." 

"I can dance." 

"Huh? You mean, you are gonna attend, shin-kun?"

"Yeah, just that, I was thinking of taking you as my partner because I am a new student and don't know anyone but now you are saying you might not participate so I doubt it now." 

"You shouldn't change your decision just because of me."

"And why shouldn't I?" 

"Are you really going to be happy to have me as your dance partner?”

"...what?" Yui's voiced out fear made shin surprised and confused at the same time 

"I mean, haha, I can't dance and not only that I'm not a good socializing person, plus I don't have any noble etiquettes and manners. You are aware of the fact that this school is where high class people attend and that is why the prom is all about noble life." She tried to reason out her words.

– "Dad! Dad! Dad! Will you take me to the zoo today? You promised last week." a little, seven years old, Yui asks her dad, who is seen to be working on some 'church' paperwork.

– "of course I will! After all I promised." he said while offering his pinky out, which Yui gladly intertwined with hers.

– "Really?! Thank you so much dad, I love you!" 

– By the next few hours, Yui and her dad were seen to be travelling around the zoo, watching various animals and feeding them. Her dad held her up, high, on his shoulders to make it easier for her to see through the huge crowd. 

–  She has always cherished moments like this with her dad, who have done everything possible for her in her childhood. 

– But when the truth about her unknown birth was revealed in the Sakamaki mansion, she was broken. 

– Did he abandon her in a place filled with blood thirsty because she wasn't his child and becoming a burden, the more she grew up?

– Were those memories, that she cherished the most from her young age, fake? Did he create those memories with her so that he isn't guilty later? 

–  It's… awful. 

"...ui? Yui? Yui?!" 

A distant voice brought her back from her idle state. 

"What's wrong? You look pale?" Shin said as he brought his hand up to check her temperature. 

"It's nothing! I'm just feeling under the weather because of overwork... maybe? I'll go and visit the infirmary." Yui didn't allow his hand to reach her and stood up in a hurry, trying to dash off. Her head was throbbing. Very badly. Her eyes were burning. 

"Yui- wait." He caught her hand in a hurry which resulted in both of them losing their balance and falling on each other. Yui above Shin. Their faces inches away. Noses nearly touching. 

Sherbet met golden and a spark of light tinged within both of them.

"Are you okay!? I'm really sorry for this." Shin apologized and Yui stood up, blushing crazily. 

"I-im okay." 

"Um… so…"

"...?" 

"Yeah I wanted to ask, do you wanna practice dancing with me at my house?" 

"What?" 

"You heard that. I am asking you to come and p-practice dancing with me." He turned his head around, coughing a little. 

Meanwhile Yui just looked at him like he had gone crazy. Practice dancing with her? Is he serious!? No one has ever asked her something like this. Should she go? 

"I'll tell you by tomorrow" with that she ran to her class and avoided all possibilities to meet with Shin for the whole day, until she reached home.

– Yui's room, Sakamaki mansion:

'Is he crazy or something? Asking me to come to his house to practice dancing!?' 

"Arghhhhh!" Yui shouted, while covering her screams with a pillow on her face. She didn't have any problem with all these, but she is not sure if the people who are protecting her from the so-called founders would allow it. Even if they do, one of them will secretly spy.

She doesn't want to depend on them for her every decision and her movements of freedom. She doesn't want to rely on them, but no matter how strong willed she sounds they won't let it happen. 

To be honest, at first, she really wanted to attend prom and dance, which she has never done. She is very excited about it. Even though she can't dance, she would have spent her time eating and roaming around but there would've been no one to talk with her. So she gave up the idea.

But now…

Aria's sweet excited smile flashed through Yui's mind and Shin's proposal for practicing dance together so they can go to prom together as partners. 

She has reasons to go now. At least two-three reasons. 

"Ugh! Eugh! Argh!" Yui screamed again and this time instead of hiding her voice through a pillow, she hit it in frustration.

"Why are you harassing that pillow??!" A low groan came from beside Yui. 

"Yuma?" 

"You forgot '-kun'"

"I-" in frustration, she forgot to put honorifics and she couldn't care less about it.

"Anyways, why were you hitting that pillow, huh?" 

"Don't tell me…" yui stammered.

"Yeah yeah, I saw everything." Yuma blurted out. 

"oh no-" Yui blushed as she realised that Yuma saw her childish tantrum. 

"You still didn't answer my question?" 

"Uh that… I was just thinking about some stuff?"

"Some stuff ya' say" his tone sounded like he didn't believe her words. But what can Yui say, she wasn't actually being truthful nor was she totally lying.

"You know you can be very honest with me. I won't tell anyone." 

That's some change in Yuma's attitude Yui saw. He is not that straightforward or open with his words. And today he is telling Yui to…

"It's nothing, I was just thinking about the upcoming prom." 

"Oh, something like that exists."

Yui takes a deep breath trying to calm herself down and not to answer back with sarcasm but it fails.

"Yes it does." She gave out a bright smile, her eyes closed in a crescent moon form. Shining rays radiating from her, giving out sarcastic vibes. 

"Anyways. So, what did that have to do with that innocent pillow's harassment."

"I don't know how to dance..."

"Still don't reason out?"

"One of my friends told me to visit their home to practice dancing."

"You have friends?"

"Yeah I do. Just made a few a while ago in school."

"Oi! Don't think I'm being sarcastic and get offended. I'm just saying that it's good. At least you won't be lonely anymore…" he mumbled the last part to himself.

"....?" Yui looked at him with confusion.

"So? What's the problem with that?" 

"You know already. I won't be allowed to go anywhere by you people."

"Well I won't deny that" 

"At least give me freedom of choices for just once. Just once. It's just visiting a friend's house for practice."

"Who is that friend of yours?" 

Shoot. Yui didn't know how she would reply to that. Both the families have been vary of the two new transferred students. 

"Someone"

"Someone who?"

"..."

"…"

"..."

"Are you hiding something?" 

“You know what, nevermind. I think I should rather study than to attend prom.” with a sullen look she tried to shoo off Yuma. but it was already too late. 

“Hey…”

She glanced up and,

“If you wanna, then you can go. Just for this once okay. And if you notice anything suspicious, then do send ya’ live location through that smartphone we gave you.”

Her eyes sparkled, patting her own back in her mind for succeeding in using her puppy tactic.

“Really!? Thank you so much!”

In the end, she finally got her freedom. She can finally go somewhere with her free will without being kept an eye on and with no fear.

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

You’d think I’d have less thoughts from this episode since it was not very plot heavy but i am not done bGKAMWOEF 

[Monkie kid season 3 episode 3 spoilers] 

Really thinking about Mk and Wukong’s dynamic in season 3 so far, as of episode 3 (rambling all this now cause i can’t watch 4 and 5 until later so getting this all out rn BGAKWEFMOW) 

The rest of the crew tolerate Wukong, at best. He’s not important to them in any way shape or form, aside from Tang who’s the fanboy but not totally personal invested in Wukong outside of his fantasy’s of being his BFF. 

But! 

He is important to Mk. And they know that. They see that. And they respect that, so they tolerate Wukong, even if they don’t really like him. 

Mei especially has no patience for his cryptic nonsense or the way it effects her best friend. 

Which, honestly, fair, he’s not communicating and letting Mk come to some conclusions that aren't true and leaning into the mysterious mentor trope he thinks he needs to be, which isn’t helpful to anyone. 

When it comes to the crew, Mk is almost... blocking Wukong from them during confrontation, often times quite literally placing himself between them 

Basically acting as a middle ground man and attempting to communicate or make excuses for Monkey King, which honestly, isn’t really healthy. It prevents Monkey King from having to face some consequences and doesn’t help him learn to communicate, and Mk falls into the roll of apologizing for other people a little two easily.  

And again, the crew tolerates this because they know how important Monkey King is to Mk. He really cares about him. Even though Monkey King basically dips again, without actually leaving, Mk cares and wants to make sure he’s part of the group and even comfortable 

Part of it comes from Mk’s need to please the people around him

and his desire for validation and to have his mentor/father figure tell him he did a good job 

Mk is very loyal and he’d do anything for the people he cares about. Even blame himself for their behaviour and try to change himself because he’ll rationalize until he’s convinced himself he’s the problem. 

But, that doesn’t mean he’s stupid. 

He sees 

However, he’s quick to forgive and quicker to excuse, and Monkey King tends to breeze over things because confrontation is BAD™ for him and he avoids it however he can, usually by dismissing it and bulldozing ahead with positive talk  and acting like things don’t get to him. Which just feeds into Mk’s rationalization more bgsalkemfwe 

MAN THEIR DIFFERENT TRAUMAS AND HABITS CLASH SO BADLY GOOD GRIEF 

ANYWAY, just thinking about Mk as the middle man in this situation and how long that’s gonna be able to last with how serious things are and how Wukong’s inability to communicate is gonna continue to effect the group and dig him into a deeper hole until Mk can’t give him any more excuses or defend him (or if he’d even want to) 

The day when Wukong looks to Mk to convince the others to get behind him and Mk looks away is gonna crush me if it ever comes (Wukong too probs haha*sobs*) 

*shakes the monkey* COMMUNICATE GOSH DANG YOU 

Thing is, he’s definitely trying to communicate but it obviously isn’t working very well. Just with what Mk said alone with the 

“He’s in no state to waste his time on mere mortals, especially since now I don’t have my powers” 

LIKE THAT? THAT SOUNDS BAD 

But the reality of the situation is that Mk doesn’t have his powers. He and Monkey King were the strongest players to keep them from getting wiped out during a boss fight, and now that they’re both out for the count they’re in a lot of danger. Wukong knows this. He knows they’re in danger and that their best bet right now is him. He can do boss fights, he did them back during the Journey all the time. It’s a very serious situation and he’s their best bet, the easily killed mortals are not. 

Say it out loud though and it sounds horrible. “I’m more important than you right now.” When in reality it’s closer to “if I don’t recharge you’re all going to die so I’ve gotta get to the point where i can protect you and that means focusing on myself for a while until i’m up to game” 

BUT OF COURSE HE DOESN'T’ SAY THAT, AND MK DOESN’T REALLY TAKE IT THAT WAY, NONE OF THEM DO 

*shakes the monkey* COMMUNICATE GOSH DANG YOU 

Anyway, I lost my train of thought, the monkey is stupid and communicates a lot like my mom does BG;ALJKWEMFO Mk’s not gonna be able to put himself between the monkey and his friends forever, and as much of a peacemaker as he’s trying to be, real communication is what’s gonna save them and if they can’t get to that point good luck my guy 

This all started from how i just noticed the way Mk stands between his friends and Monkey King when they start getting annoyed with him *WHEEZING* AIGHT HEADING OUT PEACE 

(I’m still not over how gently Mk put Monkey King down after carrying him out of the truck tho actually bG;JLKAEMFOW) 

[egg-on-the-run]

Massage

The turtle's s/o is exhausted, they help make things better with a massage.

(she/her pronouns used)

Leonardo

She's already asleep in his bed when he comes home from patrol. Usually she waits for him on the couch, even when she was tired, but Splinter had specifically told him she was already asleep, warned him to do his best not to wake her up.

She must be exhausted.

He tiptoes in as quietly as he could after his shower, spots her lying flat on his bed: not tucked in, just lying atop his blankets on her stomach. She had been too tired to lift the sheets.

He can see how tense she is, can see the way how even in her sleep her shoulders still rise to her ears, how her finger twitches with an anxious need to keep moving. Her face scrunched up slightly, adorable, but he would rather it be relaxed and soft.

He's careful and slow moving her onto the bed properly, still not setting her under the covers just yet. He's even more careful when he straddles her legs, keeps his weight off them almost entirely. His hands start at her lower back, kneading into her very softly.

She jolts and eyes snap open, "What are you doing?"

"I uh, I was giving you a massage, you look tense, even in your sleep."

"Oh," She relaxes, "You're an angel, just scared me a little." Her head hits the pillow again, already drifting off.

He tries once more, hands softly pressing into her lower back. She lets out a breath of air, sinking further into the mattress. He continues, travelling further up her spine. Usually he hates the sound of bones cracking (all of his brothers teased him constantly about it), but tonight he was quite happy to hear little pops coming from her spine. He especially didn't mind when she gave a little moan afterwards.

His hands travel further up towards her shoulders, kneading and rolling his wrists into the dozens of knots in her back. Her shoulders were so tense that she whined whenever he was too rough. He had to be gentle, working them out slowly.

By the time he was finished, she was sleepily trying to reach his hand with her eyes closed.

"Cuddle me," She mumbled as she found his hand, "Pretty please? I've got tomorrow off."

"Of course," He replied, moving to help her under the sheets, "That was the plan anyway."

He pulled her tight against his chest, hearing her bones crack once more as she melted like putty in his hands. He kissed her forehead.

"Thank god you've got tomorrow off, I'll let you sleep in as long as you want." He sighed, relaxing himself, "I'll make sure the lair is quiet."

She didn't hear a word of what he said, she was already fast asleep.

Raphael

Raphael was the king of tension. He wasn't like Michelangelo where little bothered him, or like Donatello who had those random self care days, or even like Leonardo who learned to de-stress through meditation. Oh no, Raphael carried tension like a mother with a clingy child: pulling on his shoulders, weighing him down and making him irritated.

It came with the whole anger thing.

So there have been countless times where she has used her knuckles to work the knots out of his shoulders. It was no easy task, especially when she had to use most of her body weight to actually get through each and every knot.

But she'd do it a hundred times more if he needed her to, and Raphael knew that, knew it all to well.

So when he sees her already grumbling to herself at the latest email that just came through to her laptop, when he see her shoulders rising to her ears in frustration and hands balling into fists, he knew he had to do the same thing for her as she had done countless times for him.

She jumps when he first puts his hands on her shoulders, but recognises the warm touch shortly after.

"What are you doing?" She asked, one hand reaching up to rest on top of his, she kept her attention glued to her screen, "I have a lot of work to do, Raphie."

"I know," He said, beginning to knead into her shoulders, "Just a massage, you look stressed."

"Oh with that lovely email, I am more than stressed."

She's always had a sharp tongue, never directed it to him (never intentionally) but he knows her patience is wearing thin and work certainly wasn't helping. He thought about taking his hands away entirely, not wanting to pester her; but she ran her thumb across his hand, typed with only one set of fingers, and Raphael remembered how often she did this for him when his patience was thinner than a piece of paper.

He pressed his hands into her shoulders again, watched as her head leaned back and body moved with his hands. He knew the feeling, when the knots were so tight they just hurt. He continued to work his hands into her shoulders, and slowly it seemed to stop hurting and the tension started to melt away. She closed her eyes, pushed her laptop away from her and just let herself be for a moment.

"Those big ol' hands of yours," She said, voice more like a breath, "So gentle with me."

"Not like you, using your damn elbows to get the knots out."

"But does it work?" She laughed.

He chuckled, "Of course it works, you're the best at this."

"Oh I dunno, you might give me a run for my money, this feels like heaven right now." Her head rolled to the side, turning slightly to kiss his hand, "Take me to bed Raphie, please."

With one final squeeze he let go, moving his arms to wrap around her waist and carry her to bed. Work wasn't important, this was.

Donatello

The lair was far too noisy, Donatello's lab was far too bright. Everything was just too much, all at once. Even as she sat on his desk, the reflection of his computer in his glasses from behind her was glaring into her eyes. He sat between her legs, arms around her waist and rambling about — god, she didn't even know at this point. She'd spaced out long ago, too overwhelmed to even try and catch up.

He moved his head at he spoke, Donatello was always an expressive fellow, and the light bounced off his glasses right into her eyes. She squinted, scrunched her entire face up and groaned.

"You have a migraine," He said plainly, "I have some painkillers in my drawer—"

"I took some earlier, they just haven't kicked in yet." She frowned.

She looked in pain, Donatello hated to see her like this, hated when there wasn't anything he could do.

He reached up and cupped her face, "Have you had enough water today?"

"Yeah," She mumbled, "Been using that new water bottle I got."

"When did you last eat?"

"Went out for dinner with some coworkers."

Donnie hummed, not knowing what else could cause her such a migraine. They usually had a reason behind them, she didn't usually just get them randomly. He wondered if she'd be on her phone too much, not to sound like Splinter, but she's been talking to him for the past hour or so, her eyes should have rested by now.

She pushed her cheek into his hand, letting his hand squish the chub on her face. Donatello squeezed gently, rubbing her cheeks in a circular motion.

"What are you doing?" She asked, voice muffled by his hands.

"Massaging your face," He replied, moving to knead her cheekbones with his thumbs, "Maybe it's tension that's brought this on."

"Maybe..."

He moved his thumbs over the bridge of her nose and followed the shape of her eyebrows, he repeated the action a few times before gently rubbing her temples.

"You're really good at this..." She murmured, eyes closed and jaw slack. Her face was no long scrunched up, but instead so completely relaxed she looked as though she was already asleep. Donatello persisted, using his thumbs to move the tension away from her face. His hands moved to her hair, grasping tightly and then releasing, he tickled his fingers through her locks: slowly so as not to pull on any tangles.

By the time he'd moved back to her jaw, he was pretty sure she'd fallen asleep where she sat. He smiled softly at her, kissed her forehead, and carried her off to bed.

He needed an early night as well.

Michelangelo

She had been on her feet all day, running errands for a coworker who had recently hurt their leg. Said coworker was fine, and would be perfectly capable of putting of such errands until their leg was better (really, Mikey huffed, using his girlfriend like a servant). But she could never just say no, and even after she'd ran around the city collecting bits and bops, dropping off items and buying groceries, her coworker hadn't even offered her so much as a sit down before he not-so-subtly led her out of his apartment.

So she came stumbling to the lair, exhausted and drained beyond compare and ready to collapse but still so eager to see her darling Mikey. He was in the shower when she arrived, she knew because Raphael told her, and because she could hear his singing before she'd even arrived.

She dragged herself to his bed, kicking her shoes off and not even caring where she left them. She collapsed to her knees before she could crawl under the blankets, lying surprisingly comfortably on the floor.

"Hey, hey angel! What are you doing down here?" Mikey's cheerful voice woke her up, along with a little shake of her shoulder. "We snoozing on the floor now?"

"So tired..." She mumbled, eyes fluttering closed, "Carry me to bed."

"No problem, the whole five feet distance it is." Mikey chuckled. He picked her up, sliding her onto his bed, careful not to bump her head on Raphael's top bunk. "All those errands huh? Guy owes you a thanks at least."

"Jackass kicked me out before I could even sit down at his place," She glared at the mattress above her, "So rude."

"Uh, totes rude? My girl did all that for him and he doesn't even let you sit down? Jackass is a very nice way to describe him." Mikey smiled at her, "Your poor little feet must be sore after all that running around."

"I think my ankles are swollen."

"Just a little." He teased, moving to sit between her legs. He took one of her legs and squeezed firmly along her calves. His hands slid down to her ankles and he frowned: they were slightly swollen, he had only been joking but turns out he was right. He rolled her ankle for her, moved her foot so that it pointed and then helped stretch her heel. He squeezed her calf one more time before moving on to her other leg.

"You're so sweet," She babbled, "Thank you for taking care of me."

"No problem babe, somebody has to," He laughed, "And it's not hard work."

She smiled at him, eyes struggling to stay open. He smiled back at her, not that she could see him, and softly told her to go to sleep; he'd take care of her.

[haileygarciasunshine]

Gibbs Daughter

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader 

NCIS x Criminal Minds Cross Over

Word Count: 1,354

Warning: Mentions of Violence, Kidnapping, Stalking, Blunt Force

Written: December 17th-24th, 2020

Posted: December 25th, 2020

Requested: Yes! But I did change it a little! // @hommoturttle​ Can do write another Aaron Hotchner x reader fic, but she works for NCIS her team has to work with his for a case? I kinda have a deep need for an interaction between Gibbs and Hotch....(and Abby and Reid)

Aaron Hotchner Masterlist

Something about the day hadn't sat right with you since this morning. You wracked your brain trying to remember if you missed a deadline, a birthday, something important.

The ding of the elevator doors opening pulled you from your thoughts. Walking into the BAU office, Derek greeted you.

"Morning, sweetheart." He grinned. "How was your date with James?"

"Hm? Oh, uh, it....it was good." You shrugged as you settled into your desk area.

"That sounded convincing," Derek spoke raising a questioning eyebrow at you.

"Oh, uh, I just have a lot on my mind." You sighed.

"Yeah? Care to share?"

"I-"

"Y/L/N." Hotch's voice interrupted. "My office." He spoke as he walked through the BAU doors, before making his way up the stairs to his office.

Groaning you pinched the bridge of your nose. Sighing, you bounded up the stairs, before knocking politely entering Hotch's office.

"Good, you're here."

You hummed in response taking a seat in front of Hotch's desk. Nervousness washed over you as you tried to wrack your brain about the previous case.

Hotch cleared his throat, seemingly knowing that you were engrossed by thoughts.

"I received an unusual call this morning." He spoke, his tone unreadable.

You nodded in acknowledgment.

An awkward silence fell between you.

"He got a call from the NCIS team," Rossi's voice spoke from behind you.

As you turned to face him, you didn't miss the eye roll he did along with a frustrated huff.

"Your father needs our help," Rossi stated moving to occupy the other chair.

"What?" You questioned your expression furrowing in confusion. "H-How do you know if he's my father... Maybe-"

"Well, at first we weren't too sure," Rossi cut your rambling off. "But then, someone named Tony called back and explained that Agent Gibbs was actually your father, and wouldn't flat out say he was."

You groaned, before pinching the bridge of your nose. "I'm gonna kill Tony."

Rossi chuckled at your response. "Why wouldn't you tell us your father was special agent Gibbs?"

"Because," You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. "I...I wanted to achieve my goals without...favoritism."

"Hmm." Rossi pondered your confession.

"The last agency I was at...Only hired me because I was his daughter." You let out a frustrated huff. "I promised myself I wouldn't let that happen again." You frowned.

"Well," Hotch spoke, causing you to return your attention to him. "I can say that wasn't the case here."

You felt fireworks erupt in your stomach. Hotch rarely complimented someone about their job.

"You were hired here, because of your strong work ethic, your intelligence..." Hotch's voice broke off, as he gazed at you. His expression was once again unreadable.

As you held his gaze, you felt heat rise in your cheeks. The air between you suddenly felt as if there was invisible electricity.

Rossi cleared his throat bringing you both back to reality.

"I...I should get back to work." You muttered quickly standing up. Rushing out of Hotch's office, you didn't allow either man to speak before you were gone.

"What was that all about?" Derek questioned as he saw you rushed towards your desk.

"Oh, um." Your mind betraying you and going blank. "He just wanted to talk about my dad."

"Your dad?" Derek questioned while raising an eyebrow.

You shrugged in response, before turning your attention back towards your work. Glancing up, you saw Hotch gazing down at you from his office. Grinning you dropped your gaze before shaking your head.

---

"Today we have a few agents from the NCIS team." JJ introduced motioning towards the side they chose to sit on. "We have SSA Gibbs, SSA McGee, and SSA DiNozzo."

The BAU team gave them a warm greeting. JJ proceeded to introduce everyone on the BAU team. Once she was done, she began briefing everyone on the case that you would be working on.

Frowning, you gazed at the NCIS team. Leaning over you whispered to DiNozzo. "Where's Ducky?"

"He's examining another body," DiNozzo spoke leaning into you slightly. "They found another this morning."

"Another one?" You whispered furrowing your eyebrows together.

He hummed in response.

Pondering the thought, you leaned back in your chair. You had opted to sit at an end so that you would be in the middle of both teams.

Once the briefing was over, you rushed after Hotch. Grabbing his wrist, you pulled him to a halt.

"Y/N-"

"They found another body this morning." You rushed out, as worry was evident in your voice. "He's progressing faster than we anticipated."

"Are you sure?" He questioned, his eyebrows furrowing together. “Can I see the case file?”

Nodding your head, you handed him the file that you were holding. His fingers brush along yours as he gripped it.

Fireworks erupted in your stomach at the minimal contact. Since you had started working with the BAU, he had always been attracted to Hotch.

Clearing your throat, you took a slight step back as you realized the close proximity you both were in.

“This...This looks like you.” His voice was hesitant as he spoke.

“What?” You whispered in disbelief, as you rushed to his side suddenly not caring about contact or close proximity. Leaning against his arm, you gazed at the pictures of the victim. He was right, the victim had Y/H/C, Y/E/C, Y/S/C.  

“I...” Your mind was quickly clouded, with a million thoughts a minute. “I don’t want you on this case, Y/L/N.” Hotch’s voice stated as he gazed down at you softly.

“With all due respect Hotch, this is my job. I’m going.”

“We need her, Hotch. We don’t need to cost another victim their life.” Rossi spoke, joining the both of you.

“Fine.” Hotch huffed before leaving you and Rossi alone.

“He means well,” Rossi spoke clearing his throat.

“How do you know?” You questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“Because he has feelings for you.”

“How-”

“Anyone with a brain and Two eyes can tell,” Rossi spoke before he walked away.

----

“We’re going to have to share hotel rooms,” Rossi spoke, as he rejoined the small group of BAU agents.

“Pretty Boy and I will share,” Derek spoke, throwing an arm around Spencer’s shoulder before taking the keycard from Rossi.

“I’ll share with Emily,” JJ spoke sending a smile her way.

JJ and Emily got on the elevator leaving the three of you alone.

“I’m rooming alone,” Rossi spoke, not bothering to stay around for Hotch to respond.

Sighing, Hotch turned toward you. A slight tint was prominent on his cheeks. “I guess it’s you and me.” He spoke, gazing at you as he tried to read you.

“Guess so.” You spoke, rocking slightly on the balls of your feet. “Shall we go?”

---

After you got in your hotel room, Aaron let you use the bathroom first, allowing you time to shower and change. Once you were done, you emerged from the bathroom. 

Gazing at Hotch, you gauged his reaction. “What?” You questioned glancing down at your pajamas.

“Is...Is that my shirt?” Aaron questioned smirking slightly.

“Oh. Uh. I guess so.”

“When did you have time to steal that?”

You giggled, before shrugging. “Probably from the last time we roomed together.”

Hotch nodded before entering the bathroom, cutting the conversation short. Sighing, you made yourself comfortable in bed. As you laid there, your eyes began getting heavier and heavier. Welcoming sleep, you hadn’t heard Hotch exit the bathroom or the gentle kiss he placed on your forehead.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

---

“Are you Y/N?” A tall man with dark hair questioned.

“Huh? Oh, yes I am. Who are you?” You asked with a raised eyebrow. 

You had woke up early in the morning to go with JJ and Emily to get coffee, from a small cafe that was close to the hotel.

The man had a sly smile that made its way to his lips. “I’ve been waiting for you.” Before you could respond, he was behind you, placing a chemical-filled cloth over your nose and mouth. Sleep overwhelmed you, as your coffee and cell phone fell from your hands.

“Sleep tight, my little agent.”

Join my Taglist Here

Request a Part Two Here

Send me a Request Here

Taglist:

@averyhotchner​

[lady-literature]

ayy, so ya’ll know that Miraculous/DC crossover I screamed about a while back? I found plot for it.

It is not quite finished yet, but it’s also so much longer than I originally planned on it being. (me: I’ll just write a fun little thing to get this out of my head!

me, 13k words later: oh no)

SO! Here’s a little sneak peak!

(or, find the finished product here!)

***

There is an unspoken rule, kept by any outsider who’s ever set foot in Gotham, that you should only ever visit the city once. Most find that visiting even once was already too much.

The most dangerous city on earth isn’t kind to its residents—much less strangers who don’t know how to watch their pockets or keep off the streets after dark. It’s gotten better, perhaps, in recent years since the Bat started lurking on rooftops, but that doesn’t mean the city is good.

Normal people stay as far from Gotham as they can get.

Marinette, (un)luckily, is far from normal.

***

The touring of Metropolis, New York City, and Gotham had been going well as far as Marinette was concerned, no matter what Chloé says to her about carelessness and naivety.

She’s glad her, Adrien and Chloé all decided to take this summer trip before they started University in the fall. It sucks that it was just the three of them, she wishes more of their friends could’ve tagged along but, alas, it wasn’t meant to be.

Kagami was in the middle of training season and couldn’t come. Luka was touring with his father, learning the tricks of the trade and other things. Nathaniel had already been commissioned to paint a mural downtown before they really finalized dates. Nino was in much the same boat as Nath, just with music and pitch meetings. Felix hated traveling and Alix was doing… something. Time travelling, probably. Or at least spending more time in the burrow.

Marinette was certainly starting to notice the way she’s begun talking about ancient history like she was actually there when she goes on rants now. Felix also probably noticed but Marinette’s also sure that he’s aiding and abetting her in exchange for insider information so…

She’ll probably have to deal with that later, unfortunately. But not today.

Their tour group was going to Amusement Mile later that afternoon, but had been given free roam until then. Marinette decided to spend the time up until lunch at the park near the meetup spot in Gotham Square and Chloé hadn’t complained or vetoed that idea so the trio happily camped out on the grass.

Marinette had returned to her sketch of Lady Gotham in between eating bites of her sandwich. She thinks she much preferred the style of it to New York City’s Lady Liberty. There was just something about the Statue of Justice that inspired her.

She’d been doodling about it since they left the marina yesterday. She also had plenty of pictures of the statue for inspiration later. There’s one she especially likes and thinks she might even print out to put up on her wall at home.

She’s playing with the idea of draping fabrics for formal wear designs like the roman togas both Lady statues seem to wear when a tennis ball rolls up and bumps into her leg. She has only enough time to move her sketchbook out of the way before a large dog bowls into her, tail wagging happily and barking up a storm.

“Oof!”

Adrien’s already halfway up the tree, startled out of his light doze by the barking and Chloé only daintily moved away from Marinette, leaving her to her fate. 

Pushing herself back up so she’s not crushed by what feels like one hundred pounds of dog, she comes face to snout with quite possibly the biggest dog she’s ever seen. From there, there was really only one choice of action Marinette could have followed.

“Oh! Well, aren’t you just the prettiest boy?” she tells the dog happily, reaching up to give him scratches. “Such a big boy! You nearly bowled me over, didn’t you?”

If it’s possible, the dog’s tail begins to wag even faster, enough that he accidentally overbalances himself and decides to roll with it, flopping onto his back and letting her rub his stomach. Marinette does so enthusiastically, her baby-talk to the dog devolving into broken not-words and the occasional exclamation of good boy! in both English and French.

The dog was a great dane, and had the softest coat of black fur she’s ever seen. There was a thick red collar around his throat, and Marinette stopped furiously rubbing his belly long enough to look at the silver tag attached to it.

“Titus, huh?” she says to the dog. “Such a strong name for such a distinguished boy, huh?”

“Oh god,” she hears Adrien groan from his spot still up in the tree. When she looks up, she finds him eyeing Titus with distrust, the absolute kitten. “I hope whoever his owner is, they’ve never read Shakespeare.”

Both her and Chloé blink at the strange non sequitur.

“Uh, why? Exactly?”

“Because they have shit taste in his plays if they do! Titus Andronicus is, like, Shakespeare’s worst play.”

Chloé glares up at him. “You’re such a nerd. Now stop being ridiculous and get down from there.”

“But, Chloé! It’s a dog.”

“Adrien Agreste!”

Marinette tunes out the two blondes as they devolve into sibling-like bickering. It’s a skill she’s had to learn and learn quickly with living in such close quarters with the pair for the last few weeks and also being friends with the pair for the past three years.

“Speaking of your owner, I wonder where they are?” She scratches under Titus’ chin thoughtfully. “Should we go look for them?”

Titus' head flops to the side, almost like he’s listening for something, before he’s clambering up onto his feet to tower over her. He’s almost twice as tall as she is sitting, which is just ridiculous. Why is everything in America so big?

Getting to her feet herself, Titus still stands almost as tall as her. She can rest her elbow on his back when she grabs his collar to make sure he doesn’t run off. He leads mostly, pulling her along at a steady trot she has to jog to keep up with.

He truly was such a well behaved dog and certainly lived up to his breed’s reputation as a gentle giant.

Or at least she thought so, until the call of “Titus! Here!” echoes through the park and he goes racing off towards it, dragging Marinette along for the ride no matter how much she tries to slow down.

Titus comes to a skidding stop, and Marinette barely stops herself from falling by keeping her arm around Titus.

“And who are you?”

Looking up, she finds a young man, probably around her age, staring down at her. He does not look happy—but most Gothamites don’t, Marinette’s found. He’s also, despite the almost glare he’s giving her, very attractive.

When she opens her mouth, incoherent French comes tumbling out, much to her embarrassment.

Ah. ‘Not being able to speak coherently to people she finds attractive’, she had wondered where that particular personality trait had been as of late. Even after so many years hanging around people who should be—and are—super models, she still acts like a spaz. Why is she like this?

The man raises an eyebrow at her, looking very unamused.

She tries again. “Ah- Je suis- I mean, I am very sorry. Your dog found me sitting over there with my friends and I figured I should find his owner instead of letting him just wander around and I assume your his owner because if you aren’t this is very embarrassing for me. Not that it wasn’t embarrassing before but, oh, I’m definitely rambling and I’m going to shut up now.”

Pressing her lips together as tightly as humanly possible so her tongue will stop making horrible life decisions, she holds Titus’ bright yellow tennis ball out to his owner.

The man huffs, taking the ball from her hand. “I didn’t ask for your life’s story.”

Marinette blinks and then frowns. Her hand tightens around where she’s still holding onto Titus’ collar and she has to very carefully unclench her hand before she breaks it or something.

“I didn’t give it,” she says through clenched teeth, embarrassment abruptly forgotten. There’s no need for the man to be rude.

He scoffs. “Could’ve fooled me.”

She doesn't really have anything to say to that. Instead, she turns to Titus, who’s sitting like the good boy he is. She very seriously leans down to eye level—she does not have to lean down far—and tells him, “Your owner is an ass. But you are still a very good boy.”

She plants a kiss to his forehead that makes his tail wag, gives him one last scratch behind the ears and walks back towards her friends without looking back at the rude man. 

***

Colonel Bug: so I met kagami and felix’s lovechild today

MY HONOR: I would never stoop so low.

the evil twin: I would never stoop so low.

ShutUpTurtleMan: Nettie

dearest

the evil twin: Okay first of all-

ShutUpTurtleMan: sunshine

light of our collective lives and reason I breathe

what the fuCK

YoureUnderAgreste: Kagami, my love, how could you?

The Betrayal™

GottaGoFast: ew

Queen of Salt: ew

sneaky snake: Send pics or it didn’t happen

give me art or give me death: [a photo of the ‘right in front of my salad?’ meme]

Queen of Salt: wait

I was with you all day when did this happen?

was it the owner of the dog that attacked you?

ShutUpTurtleMan: WHAT

Colonel Bug: he didn’t attack me!

chloe stop spreading misinformation!

titus was a sweetheart!

YoureUnderAgreste: incorrect

he was, in fact, a menace

give me art or give me death: wait was Titus the dog or the lovechild

ShutUpTurtleMan: ^^^ ?

Colonel Bug: shut up adrien

all animals are great

stop being elitist

give me art or give me death: okay but seriously what kind of dog was it

the evil twin: why exactly was he our lovechild?

GottaGoFast: because of the dramatic tryst you and Kagami had obviously

keep up

Colonel Bug: because he was as pretty as he was rude actually

And gave me the feeling that he’d rant about his honor and parentage if it given the chance

MY HONOR: you say something once as an unsocialized teen

GottaGoFast: MARI YOU DOG!

ARE GETTING TAIL IN GOTHAM OF ALL PLACES?

Colonel Bug: no alix

did you not read the part about how rude he is

YoureUnderAgreste: i mean,,,,,

Felix is pretty rude and we all still like him

ShutUpTurtleMan: and Chloe

YoureUnderAgreste: oh good point nino

Colonel Bug: i hate it here

i spoke to him for like 2 seconds

Queen of Salt: Okay first of all-

YoureUnderAgreste: so i mean it’s not really a dealbreaker yaknow?

Colonel Bug: this familys a nightmare

i shoulda left you all on the street corner where i found you

YoureUnderAgreste: BUT CHA DINDT

ShutUpTurtleMan: but yA DIDNT

GottaGoFast: BUT CHA DIDNT!!

sneaky snake: but ya didn’t

***

I have every no regrets. stay tuned for more!

[zmalkarnar1]

What About Us? Part II: Oikawa x Male Reader

Here is the second part of the Oikawa x Male reader I posted the other week. Wasn’t satisfied leaving it where it was. 

Again, if you aren’t ahead in the manga there are spoilers. Enjoy.

“Iwa-chan, I have to get this done!”

“No. You need a break Y/n.” Iwaizumi said, pulling Y/n away from his computer and through his pigsty apartment.

“But Iwaizumi, just another thirty minutes...no, just another hour and I can be done with this piece,” Y/n whined, pulling back towards his pc. 

“Y/n, we agreed to meet with Hanamaki and Matsukawa for lunch. We would’ve been there already, but I swear you’re as bad as Trashykawa, forgetting everything except your art.”

“Just a little bit, I just need a little more time,” Y/n pleaded, trying to pull away from Iwaizumi.

“Y/n. I will carry your ass outside and drag you by your ear.”

“But Iwa-chan…”

“Now,” he said, arms crossed, exasperated as if he was dealing with a child. He probably was. Y/n wilted under Iwaizumi’s gaze, and slowly got up, shoulders slouched. Iwaizumi hung his arm around him. 

“It’ll be fine. Some time with friends will do you good.

Giving d/n a pat goodbye, Y/n let Iwaizumi lead the way to the restaurant they had promised to meet their friends. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, Y/n’s eyes gazed at the surrounding cityscape, the final vestiges of winter fading away as the new birth of spring sprouted forward. Iwaizumi was right; he needed a break. Though he’d never admit it to his friend. Even his walks with d/n have been little more than fever dreams to him, everything was focused back on his work.

“Man, it's nice out. You should have told me the weather was this great,” Y/n teased knowing full well Iwaizumi had done just that.

Iwaizumi stopped and stared deadpan at Y/n. He’d forgotten that Y/n was sometimes just as bad as Oikawa, well, not quite as bad. At least, he’s gotten worse ever since they left high school. Iwaizumi always let it slide; he figured it was how Y/n dealt with all the stress piling up on him. Y/n was always cheerful, and a bit of a tease, but Iwaizumi knew that more often than not, it was a façade, a smokescreen. He was hiding his pain, just like he did in high school. Iwaizumi wasn’t fooled however. 

“You’re really tired, aren’t you?”

“Huh? No more than normal,” Y/n said, that ghost of a smile returning to his face. “Why’d you ask? Worried about me?”

“Yes, I am. Trashykawa told me how you’ve been working yourself into a mental breakdown,” 

“Oikawa, that snitch!” Y/n cursed under his breath. He should have known Tooru was going to rat on him to Iwaizumi. 

“Yea, he is, but you really can’t keep on like this. Ever since he went back to Argentina you’ve been even more of a recluse. You barely even check your texts!” Iwaizumi said

Y/n sighed, letting his walls lip for a moment. Iwaizumi was right. He was always consumed with work. He loved his aft, his animation. He loved that his work was enjoyed and held dear to thousands around the world. Despite the high demands of his employers, and the fact he barely survives week to week, he still loved art. But now it was something else.

Ever since he had met Tooru that winter, it's like he was woken up from a trance. After they left high school, all throughout college, everything had happened so fast. His mother sick, his father leaving; Y/n was exhausted and broken down. Before Oikawa showed up, he was barely alive, just walking through each day, one after the other, barely recognizing the world around him. He had lost so much, and, Y/n admitted, work allowed him an excuse to bury his exhaustion and pain deep inside, trapped behind a wall so thick he became numb to the emotions roiling inside of him. His pain and tears hidden away, his work was the perfect escape, despite the endless tasks his job required. It was his way to shy away from the world. Better to be busy than alone. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t cry, or feel the loss of his family, he just didn’t want to confront it, not alone like he was. He didn’t want to feel so hollow, so torn, alone. So he worked, and worked, until Tooru showed up on his evening walk one winter day, and the dam that had begun to leak from overwork and exhaustion burst. His memories and old feelings he left unresolved boiling to the surface. And now he couldn’t get his mind off of Oikawa. Oikawa, who sent him a text encouraging him each day, a word of support awaiting him on his phone each morning as he woke. 

And every week, Tooru found time to call him, sharing volleyball stories and giving Y/n a chance to destress from work. Each call happened during Y/n’s waking hours, which meant Oikawa must have been getting up at ungodly hours just for a chat. With Y/n’s unresolved feelings with Tooru came all his damned emotions, threatening to tear him apart, and the last thing he wanted to do was show weakness to his friends again.

So, Y/n did the only thing he knew, throwing himself into a job that was slowly killing him. He stopped responding immediately to Oikawa’s morning texts. He let the past two calls go to voicemail. Too busy with work, deadlines with animes being pushed up. He could talk next week.

Y/n vaguely remembered talking with Oikawa for a few minutes before making a weak excuse about work again. In truth, he really didn’t want to handle these emotions right now, and as stressful as work could be, his art allowed him to be numb and bury them all away.  But since Tooru kept coming back, it was getting harder and harder to hold them in check.

“You know Y/n, you’re going to have to deal with your feelings and emotions eventually,” Iwaizumi said

Y/n stumbled, “What? What do you mean?”

“Even a blind man can see that you’re hiding your feelings for Oikawa behind your work. You’ve done that for years. You’re going to have to face him eventually.” Iwaizumi said, shrugging. Perhaps Y/n wasn’t as good an actor as he thought. 

“This coming from you? All your emotion is wrapped up in violence,” Y/n scoffed.

“At least I’m a stable, functioning adult.”

“Hey! I’m functioning!” Y/n argued

“You’d forget to buy food if I didn’t stop around every once and a while.”

“That only happened once!”

“It’s not my fault the two of you have the emotional intelligence of a toddler.” Iwaizumi said

“Iwa-chan, so mean” Y/n whined in imitation of Oikawa

“Don’t be like him or I’ll whack you!” Iwaizumi laughed, “Anyways, you really are going to need to find some way to work through your emotions. You’ve held in everything that’s happened since high school and your mother’s death. Consider this an intervention.”

“I know,” Y/n said, aware that he was right. “Food first. Emotions can wait.” Forever, if Y/n had his choice. “How’s work with the national team going?”

“It’s busy. Honestly, I’m always a little worried that Ushijima is going to break Hinata’s face one of these days at the rare times the team is actually together.”

“Must be fun though,” Y/n hummed. 

Y/n let Iwaizumi ramble on about his work, glad to be off the topic of the emotional wreck that is his life. He didn’t really listen, and he knew Iwaizumi could tell, but he couldn’t focus on the words. Oikawa was back in his head, and he kept wondering when he’d be able to move past it all. 

By the time they made their way to the restaurant, Maki and Mattsun were already there. They already had drinks. Apparently they’d been waiting a while. How late was he? As he went to sit next to Iwaizumi, Makki was already teasing him.

“You know, I remember when you’d get all flustered why you were even a minute late to class,”

Y/n blushed, “Oh shut up Makki. At least I passed all my classes. What was your Algebra II grade again?”

“He’s right. Remember when Y/n panicked when he forgot about the English test?” Mattsun said,

“Oh, I won’t forget that,” Iwaizumi laughed, slapping Y/n on the back, “Was so afraid of failing he skipped class, hiding in a broom closet, and somehow managed to lock himself in.”

“Stop it!” Y/n whined, “I left my work for this!” The others just laughed. It was all in good fun, he knew. 

As their food came and went, Y/n allowed himself to step away from work and enjoy an afternoon with old friends. He still kept his walls up though. He was strong enough to not fall apart in front of his friends. 

“So how is Oikawa?” Mattsun asked, bringing up the topic that Y/n had been purposely avoiding for the entire lunch.

“He’s fine, I guess.” Y/n said, “Big game coming up in a week or two.”

“You guess? Aren’t you talking to him every week?” Makki asked

“Y/n here has been ghosting him because he’s afraid that he likes him again,” Iwaizumi teased

“Iwa-chan, stop it!”

“Oh, stop pretending you don’t care for him. We can all tell you’re still inexplicably obsessed with Oikawa.”

“Stop it!” Y/n begged, a slight blush forming, “Can we change the topic. Please?”

“Ok, we’ll stop teasing you. For now.” Iwaizumi said, as Y/n nodded gratefully. 

Y/n left the restaurant with Iwaizumi, heading back to take d/n for his afternoon walk to the park.

“What are you going to do Y/n? You really can’t keep on like this.”

“I know. I’ll figure something out. Thanks Iwa-chan,”

“I can walk with you and d/n for a bit if you want,” Iwaizumi said, “I have nothing else planned today,”

“No thanks. I need to think this through on my own,” Y/n said, waving farewell to Iwaizumi.

And then he was alone again, walking d/n down the very path that brought him to his fateful reunion with this old boyfriend, and shattered the illusion he had been living under. If he could even call it living.

“What do I do, d/n?” Y/n whispered, scratching the dog’s ears before throwing his tennis ball again, watching d/n rush through the dog park after it. 

I still like him. God I don’t want to feel like this anymore.

Y/n took a seat on the new spring growth of grass as d/n came bounding back to him. The animal, sensing Y/n’s discomfort, sat down next to him and dropped his head on Y/n’s shoulder. 

Y/n chuckled, scratching his ears again, “Thanks d/n.”

Sitting together with d/n, Y/n knew what he had to do. Before he did anything else, he needed to resolve things with Oikawa, however they played out. He took out his phone and rang Iwaizumi. He was going to need a big favor. 

Oikawa sat down in the locker room before the game. It was the biggest game of the year. Biggest game since the Olympics the previous summer. This game would decide if him and his team would enter into the Men's Volleyball Club World Championship Tournament. Tobio was sure to be there. Oikawa would too, in order to show his former underclassmen that he was now the superior setter.

Yet for the first time, his mind wasn’t entirely on the game. No matter how he tried to settle in and prepare as normal, his thoughts drifted back to Y/n./ Y/n had been ghosting him. Not fully, but even when they did talk, he had been distant and full of excuses in order to slip away. And then suddenly he texted saying they had something they needed to talk about. 

Oikawa was worried. Has something happened? Had he pushed too hard? He wanted to give him space, but he was worried for his old friend. His love. Was Y/n okay, or was it that he just didn’t want to talk with Oikawa anymore? Was their relationship truly and fully broken? Never had Oikawa been so distracted from volleyball. He knew he dealt with the break up by throwing himself further into the game. But now that he’d had that chance meeting, he couldn’t deny it; he still loved Y/n. Because no matter what happened, he was always the one who supported his volleyball dream, and was there for every win and every loss. He left the locker room, his thoughts still lost and confused. 

Y/n cheered, poster in hand, as the players emerged onto the court to warm up. He had watched the Olympic games, but this was his first time seeing a league game. It’s not like they showed Argentine Volleyball League games in Japan. When the game started, he only had eyes for Oikawa

Tooru’s game was off. Y/n could tell that something was bothering him. He could see him make mistakes, however slight, preventing his team from getting into a rhythm. A toss too high, one too close to the net. The game was still close, but Tooru’s team just couldn’t seem to take the lead. Y/n felt a little guilty. Was it him, his ghosting, his late night message, throwing his old friend off?

It can’t be. Nothing has ever broken his focus from Volleyball before…

Oikawa muttered to himself. He wasn’t playing well. By no means was it bad, but his tosses refused to leave his hands the way they should. They were always just a touch off. Too low here, too far from the net there. And then he’d scramble, overcompensating for the next one. And his team became unhinged. 

Their receives became shaky, and their spikes wild as they began to rush. A setter's job was to restore balance to his team. That’s what Blanco would have done. But today, Oikawa was spinning them closer and closer to disaster. He was the farthest he’d ever been from reaching his goal. He couldn’t get Y/n off his mind. Even his serves faltered.

They went down the first set. It was okay. It was only one set. The second they brought to a deuce, but fell a few rallies later. His chances of making the Club World Championship this year slipping further and further away. And still Y/n invaded his thoughts. They’d have to be perfect the rest of the match.

But things started off the same way. Oikawa’s first serve slamming down just outside the line. 0-1. The next few rallies were short, but slowly and surely they fell behind. 7-9. Oikawa’s toss went just a breadth too high again, and the spike was dug, blasting back down on their side of the court. 7-10. The serve came at them, their libero flying it high up above the team. A good receive, if a little off center. Under it right away, Tooru set it to his middle blocker, already in the air. It was good, and the quick passed through the block, only to be dug before it could reach the floor. Back at them, barely dug, Oikawa’s team scrambled to get it over, a chance ball for their opponents. The toss flew up, the block in place and shutting down the avenues of attack. The spike came down hard anyways, blasting off the block and heading towards the stands.

Oikawa was after it a split second later, diving into the group towards the sign boards, he blasted the ball back up in the air to his team. But as he scrambled up, something in the second row caught his eyes. He usually ignored the crowds during games like these, but a poster was written in Japanese, and he couldn’t help but stop to read it, even as his team were barely treading enough water to keep their heads above the stormy surf of the match. 

Go Tooru, Go. Rule the Court.

Only one person would create a banner like that for him. Still on his knees, he brought his gaze up and me e/c eyes sparkling down at him, Y/n’s smile full and invigorating, cheering his name. “Go Tooru, go!”

Oikawa froze. His mind went blank. Every time he tried to bring it back to the game, it fell apart. Only one thought remained. 

Y/n is here. Cheering for me. In Argentina, in the front rows, watching and cheering for me. He came all the way across the globe to watch me play.

For the first time that he could remember, Oikawa completely forgot about volleyball as the rally ended, him still staring up at Y/n. He completely forgot about volleyball. At that moment the only thought going through his mind was that no matter what happened, him and Y/n were going to be okay. Then he heard his voice again, screaming over the crowd. 

“Remember Tooru, the team strongest as a group of six is the stronger team!” Y/n called out. 

All the frustration and worries wracking his mind fell away and he was back into the game. With Y/n at his back, nothing could go wrong. And he remembered Iwa-chan’s words. Stronger as a group of six. He’d been trying to force everything on his own, just like when he was a kid.

Tooru stood up, shaking his head and dusting off his jersey. Looking back up to Y/n he gave him the warmest smile he could and a simple nod. Then, he was back to the game.

“Sorry,” he said to his team as he returned to the court, “but I’m back now.”

His team only nodded, seeing something change in his eyes, and the match truly began.

Y/n looked down into Tooru’s dazzling brown eyes, eyes he always seemed to get lost in. Then he realized the rally was still going on, and Tooru was still on his yankees, staring up at him as if he were a phantom. Y/n’s heart fluttered and a tear threatened to fall from his eyes. Had Tooru really forgotten about the rally? For him? Indeed, when the ball finally slammed down a moment later, Tooru was still looking up at him. Yes, Tooru really did forget about volleyball for him. Maybe, just maybe, this could work.

Maybe he does think about me as much as I think of him.

Then he was on his feet and flashed Y/n the brightest, most genuine smile he’d even seen from Tooru, his eyes enrapturing for a moment. As Tooru nodded to him, returning to his team, Y/n knew he still liked Oikawa Tooru, and it was okay. 

The rest of the game flew by and Tooru melted into the match. With Y/n’s eyes at his back, he and his team flowed into each set and roared back to life, ruling the court. And every few points, Tooru turned to lock eyes with Y/n, to ensure he was still there, that he wasn’t a dream plaguing his mind. It only helped to serve to rekindle Y/n’s feelings for the brunette. It wasn’t just about volleyball. Maybe it never was.

Oikawa’s serve slammed down for another ace, ending the fifth and final set. Y/n cheered him on as his team won entrance to the Club World Championship. After celebrating with this team, Tooru ran over towards the stands, yelling for Y/n, but it was hard to hear over the screams of the crowd. Y/n took out his phone and pointed to it, screaming “Call me later!”

Y/n knew he had to spend some time working with his team, but knew Tooru got the message as he nodded and waved before trotting off. Y/n could wait one more time. He could wait once more. When Tooru was done with his team he’d come for Y/n and then...then they’ll see. Leaving the stadium, Y/n made his way to his motel, to await Tooru’s call.

What am I doing here? Halfway across the world? To do what? Confess I still love him? Why’d I let Iwaizumi get into my head?

Y/n sat in his motel room, doubt beginning to wrack his mind. He had rejected Oikawa, ultimately, by refusing to come with him again. And now, here he was, in Argentina, unable to speak the language, with no idea what he was doing, following erupting emotions he never dealt with and can no longer control. In fact, they were driving him crazy, he needed to deal with this. All he could do was wait, and he hated it. 

Oikawa joined his team in their locker room. They were already celebrating, jostling each other and him, but Oikawa had thoughts only for Y/n. Even their post game meeting was a blur to him. As it ended, Tooru immediately grabbed his phone. It was flooded with pictures from his game, including a few of him on all fours gazing in disbelief up at Y/n.

“Iwa-chan will love this one,” the message below the picture read.

No! I can’t let him send that to Iwa-chan. He’d tease me for weeks.

Tooru rushed out of the locker room, not even bothering to change, his team looking at his back knowingly. He was lucky it was a home game. Even as he rushed to his car, his phone was already dialing Y/n’s number. 

“Y/n, where are you at?”

“Back at my motel,” Y/n answered

“Where? I’m coming!”

With Y/n’s motel and room number, Oikawa hit the roads of San Juan to find him.

Y/n waited. Tooru was on his way. He needed to deal with this, whatever the result. But now that he was finally shifting through his emotions, the loss of his family, the loneliness, the stress of his dream tearing him apart, he began to falter. Now that he finally recognized his feelings for Tooru, he was afraid, terrified of what was to come. It made him miss the numbness of his work. 

He was scared Tooru didn’t want him like he hoped he did. He was terrified that he did, and it would fall apart. He was afraid of being weak in front of Tooru again. And with those thoughts rushing through his mind, his neurons firing doubt through his brain, Tooru arrived.

“Y/n, I’m here, open up!”

The door opened with a slow whisper, but Tooru burst in, slamming the door open past Y/n, engulfing his (shorter/taller) friend into a crushing bearhug.

“Y/n, I can’t believe you came! What are you doing here? I thought you had work!?”

“Can’t breathe. Tooru, let go.”

“Sorry. But why are you here?”

“You’re all sweaty too! Couldn’t you have at least changed out of your uniform,” Y/n whined as Tooru finally let him down.

“I just had to rush over. I didn’t want you waiting for a second longer. So? I thought you didn’t want to leave Japan? Did you enjoy the game? Thanks for coming!”

“One question at a time Tooru,” Y/n laughed, “like I texted, there’s something we need to talk about. And I wanted to do it in person.” 

“So, what is so important you had to fly across the globe for me?” Tooru teased

Here Y/n began to stutter, and then stop. He couldn’t do this. 

“You aren’t ready yet, are you?”

Y/n shook his head.

“That’s okay. I can wait,” Tooru said, his voice quiet and gentle, stepping back to give Y/n a little space. “How about we go grab some food and head to my place. I have a spare bedroom. Might be more comfortable than this dirty motel,”

“Y/n only nodded, grabbing his stuff.”

“Hungry?”

“Starving. I used just about all of my spending money on the plane and game ticket. I haven’t had much for food.” Y/n admitted.

“That’s some planning,” Tooru laughed, “You used to try to have every detail planned out.

“Oh, shut up and drive.”

The two made their way to Oikawa’s place, eating the takeout Tooru had ordered and picked up on the way. 

“How’d you get off work?”

“I, uh...spent an all nighter, or two in order to catch up. Maybe three? I don’t really remember much of it. Iwa-chan was less than pleased.” Y/n admitted, scowling when he remembered the scolding Iwaizumi had given him.

“I bet he wasn’t. What did he do?”

“Nothing fun. Speaking of Iwaizumi though, you’re a snitch. You told him,” Y/n accused. 

“What? Me? I never!” Oikawa argued, dramatically trying to protest his innocence, his arms flailing around wildly.

“Hands on the wheel! I know you told him!”

“Fine, I did.” Tooru sighed, his tone getting serious, “I was worried.”

“It’s okay. I got payback.” 

“What?”

“Iwaizumi and crew are going to love some of those photos,” Y/n said, smiling

“You didn’t! Please tell me you didn’t Y/n!”

“Oh, I did. Expect some hard core teasing,” Y/n laughed as Oikawa groaned.

“Come on, we’re just about there.” 

To Y/n’s surprise, Oikawa’s apartment was very nice, and immaculate. Y/n imagined it would be a disaster area, much like it was when they were kids. Maybe Oikawa had grown up a bit. More than Y/n had apparently.

Tooru jumped into the shower to clean up as Y/n settled into the spare bedroom, that night they watched a movie in relative silence and turned in. Taking out his phone, Y/n began texting Iwaizumi.

Y/n: I can’t do this Iwa-chan.

Iwaizumi: Y/n, you have to deal with this, and everything else. You can’t keep bottling it up.

Y/n: Iwa-chan, I’m scared

Iwaizumi: Do you still love him?

Y/n: I think so.

Iwaizumi: Then talk to him!

Y/n: But I don’t know. Does he still love me?

Iwaizumi: No buts! I saw that photo. He is, and always has been, completely in love with you.

Y/n: Ok, ok, I’ll tell him.

Iwaizumi: Good. If not I will fly over and beat both of you till you figure this out. 

Y/n slept alone in Oikawa’s spare room. He had it in case family visited, which they did from time to time. 

The following day, Oikawa took Y/n sight seeing through the city of San Juan. Y/n enjoyed the sights and spending time with Tooru. However, with each passing moment his stress and fear continued to build. His gaze shifted away and each time Oikawa could see it, breaking him, what Tooru knew he should have been able to see years ago. When the day came to a close, they found themselves back in Tooru’s apartment, sitting quietly on his couch. Tooru was going to give y/n as much time as he needed.

“Tooru, I…” Y/n stopped and sat back, an exhausted sigh breaking free. Tooru could tell he was holding back tears.

“If you’re not ready yet…”

“No.” Y/n interrupted, “It’s just...I never…” Y/n sniffled, choking back his tears. Tooru’s heart began to throb in pain. He wanted nothing more than to hold Y/n in his arms, to caress him, and make his pain and fears vanish into the night. But he didn’t want to push Y/n if he wasn’t ready. 

“Sorry. I promised myself i wouldn't cry,”

“You’re hurting still, aren’t you. It’s okay,” Tooru said, reaching his hand out to Y/n’s and squeezing it, hoping to reassure him. 

“I just didn’t want to be weak in front of you again. It’s always like this. I hate being so weak,”

“Weak? Y/n, you aren’t weak!” Tooru argued

“Yes, yes I am. All I do is hide from everything,”

“You’re the last person I’d call weak,” Tooru said, turning his h/c friend so he can look into his pained, but pretty e/c eyes. “Y/n, I’ve seen you push through school, with top marks, virtually alone. As your dad practically abandoned you, it was you who helped your mother, even as she was sick. You who, despite everything, came to school with a smile, never late, never missing an assignment, a club meeting or practice of yours, or a single one of my games. You bore everything on your shoulders alone, often to the detriment of your health. And never once did you complain or let it break you, never once did you allow yourself to show your pain to anyone. I know now, deep down, how much pain you were really in, and you hid it so well. I was completely oblivious to it, selfishly obsessed with my own doubts. Y/n, you are my definition of strength.

“Tooru,” Y/n whispered, no longer able to hold back his tears.

“And you know what. It’s okay to be vulnerable sometimes. It’s okay to let it out. That doesn’t make you weak. You’ve been my pillar so often, will you finally let your walls down with me?”

Y/n couldn’t hold it in anymore. He fell into Tooru’s chest sobbing. His unresolved emotions from his mother’s death, the stress from his deteriorating finances, even the anger he never really dealt with resolving Tooru, all of them came flooding to the surface. And, of course, the love he still felt and buried deep beneath his skin. He allowed it all to overwhelm him finally. He could deal with it as long as Tooru was there. 

Tooru held him, so gently, understanding that, despite how strong his love was, he was brittle and wounded, and whatever he needed, Tooru would provide. So he held him close and gentle as a babe and let Y/n cry it out. He rubbed his back when Y/n muttered, “I needed you, and you were never there.” Tooru understood. Part of this was because of him, because he failed to see how much pain Y/n was in during their third year.

“It’s okay, you can be vulnerable with me. I’ll never see you as any less.” Tooru whispered. “You can be as strong as you want, or as weak as you need to be Y/n, I’ll always be here. Just please, stop numbing yourself.”

They laid together until Y/n stopped crying. And then, as Y/n didn’t pull away, or talk, only snuggled closer to Tooru, he held him tighter. Together they remained in each other's arms until the early morning hours. 

Tooru smiled, looking down at Y/n who had fallen asleep in his arms. He was tired. Mentally drained. Tooru would be whatever Y/n needed to be. And he’d wait, however long it took, for Y/n to forgive him and return to this permanently. He stayed awake the entire time, running his hand slowly through Y/’s blonde locks. He continued to caress him until Y/n shook awake. It was nearly two a.m. 

“Tooru…” Y/n yawned, bringing his hands up to rub his eyes, “what time is it?” “Two a.m.”

“What!?” Y/n pulled away from him and Tooru freely let him pull away, already missing his warmth. “I thought I was just dozing off for a few minutes.”

“Oh, you dozed straight to sleep.” Tooru laughed

“Sorry,” Y/n said, turning away, “About this...I,”

Tooru interrupted him before he could go any further, “Again, it’s okay. I’ll be what you need me to be, and nothing more until you’re ready.”

Y/n nodded, sitting up straight, “We need to talk,”

“You ready?”

“Yea. About us.”

Tooru waited for Y/n to continue, but he went quiet. “What about us?”

“I don’t want to wait. For you. For you to finish with volleyball. To have room in your heart.”

“Y/n,” Tooru sighed, fear rising in his chest, afraid that Y/n was going to ask him to give up volleyball, to give him the ultimatum he always feared. He couldn’t choose between them, “I’m not going to stop my career,”

“I know. I don’t want you to. But I can’t wait either. I want more.”

“More?”

“I want to try again. With you. Us. I don’t want to wait. I can’t,” Y/n said, “So, is your offer still on the table?” “...you’re sure?” Tooru whispered, hoping that he wasn’t asleep on his couch, that this wasn’t just another nightmare meant to torture him.

“I am. I need to know. Ever since we met at New Years, everything came to a head.  Realize I was drowning myself in my work, using it as an excuse to ignore everything else. I did that in college too. I’ve ignored the feelings of my mothers death, my dream, and you. But when you showed up…I can’t do it anymore. But I need to know. I want more. Is there any way we can work? Yes or no, I need to know before I move on. That’s why I’m here. 

“You aren’t kidding right?”

“No. So, is your offer still open?”

“Yes!” Tooru yelled, pulling Y/n into another crushing bear hug and pulling Y/n down onto the couch on top of him. “Of course my offer is open. And I want nothing more than for us to work. But I can’t be here all the time either,”

Y/n looked away, fearful for just a moment,

“But, that said, if you give me the chance, I will do everything I can to make you feel loved, to be your pillar, to hold you when you need to be vulnerable. I won’t abandon you like before. I’m stronger now. I’ve learned to balance volleyball and the rest of my life. I can make this work. I promise.”

Y/n smiled. “Then maybe, maybe I’ll be alright,”

“Can I kiss you?” Tooru asked.

“Yes.”

Tooru flipped Y/n over so his back was on the couch, Tooru looming over him. He cupped Y/n’s cheeks, pulling them in together, locking their lips. And Y/n’s fears, his pain, they weren’t gone, it didn’t vanish in a puff of smoke like a fairy tale, but with Tooru he knew he could be weak. He could allow himself to feel again. With Tooru, he knew he just might be okay. 

As their lips parted, Y/n felt Tooru pick him up and carry them to his bedroom.

“You’re tired,” he said, gently placing Y/n on the bed and pulling the covers over them. “Rest now. We’ll get the details tomorrow. Sleep my darling, sleep.” Tooru pulled Y/n in close, head to his chest, and together they fell asleep in each other's arms.

“Y/n, don’t go! Not now! Please,” Tooru whined as Y/n tried to make his way to the airport security. 

“Tooru, I left d/n with Iwaizumi. I imagine he’s sick of the animal. Plus, I still have to wrap up a bunch of things before I can move.”

“But we just got together n/n,” Tooru whined, pulling Y/n in for a kiss, asking for entrance with his tongue, which Y/n denied.

“Not here. At home. When I return. Then you can have all you want,” Y/n teased

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“But what if I don’t want to wait?”

“It’ll be a few weeks still. I’ll come back and then we can have some fun,” Y/n said, teasing, moving to whisper in Tooru’s ear, “Then we can figure out whatever citizenship work we need to do if we decide this works.”

“Fine, fine. Just a couple of weeks. And call me every day!” Tooru whined, reluctantly letting go of Y/n.

“I love you Tooru,” Y/n said, as he moved away to get through security.

“I love you too Y/n.”

One year later:

Oikawa’s serve blasted into the back corner of the opponent’s court. The libero dove for it, making contact, but the ball went spinning out of control, well out of reach of any of the opposing team members. The set came to an end, 25-19. There was only one set left.

Y/n cheered for his boyfriend before looking back down at his notebook. He had promised not to work today, but he snuck in some of his art without Tooru noticing. He was working on his own manga. He had yet to get anything officially off the ground. Most of his work had been denied, but he knew that in the writing business, that is the norm more often than not. It was okay. He would continue to work until he made that dream a reality. As for his animation, he still worked from home in their shared apartment, but had lightened his workload. And in a lucky break, one of his supervisors left and recommended him as her replacement. He now almost made something resembling a liveable wage. 

He was lost in his art. He knew that Tooru would be meeting with his team between the sets and could sneak in a bit of editing and drawing. Despite being in the front, right behind the bench, he was sure he’d be safe from Tooru’s eyes. But he was so absorbed in his art, he didn’t notice when Tooru came striding up to him, hands on his hips glaring at the artwork.

“You were supposed to be taking a day off, Y/n,”

Y/n jumped, and slowly closed his sketchbook, trying to hide it beneath the chair, “What do you mean Tooru, I am” he smiled, pretending to be innocent.

Tooru sighed, “You’re as hopeless as I am. Come on,” he said, grabbing Y/n’s arm and pulling him onto the court behind the bench.

“Tooru, what are you doing, the fifth set is about to start!”

“Don’t worry, both teams agreed to a short disruption, come on,” Tooru said, pulling him onto the court.

“Tooru, why are we on the court?” Y/n asked, blushing, unused to being in the spotlight with crowds staring down at them, many as confused as him.

“Look up.”

Y/n followed Tooru’s finger up to the screens above the court. Usually showing the game on the court, or replays, the screens now read the words, “Will you marry me, Y/n?”

Y/n turned to glare at Tooru, “Really. You are proposing to me during the middle of a volleyball game.” “Yes. I wanted to show you that I love you just as much as I love volleyball,” Tooru said, “Maybe a little bit more even,” Y/n sighed, “You know, this is a low move. I almost have to say yes, with everyone watching.”

“I’m sorry,” Tooru whispered, “Are you really that uncomfortable?”

“You’re lucky you already knew I was going to say yes,” Y/n muttered, knowing they had discussed the possibility in detail over the past month or so. Y/n shook his head and pulled Tooru in a kiss on the middle of the volleyball court. “Does that answer your question?”

Tooru pulled Y/n into another hug, leading him back to the bench as the crowds cheered. Y/n watched from the bench as the fifth set continued forward. He still wasn’t where he wanted to be yet, but Y/n knew that he and Tooru were going to be alright. He would let Tooru help rebuild him. He could make it through anything as long as he had his husband by his side. 

Here’s the ending. Not sure I like it, but it’s what came out. Again, sorry it’s so long. Too all those who distract themselves through work. Hope you enjoyed. 

[princesssmooshie]

Just My Luck

Prompt: Readers dog gets off the leash at the park and jumps on an unsuspecting Spencer

(Set after or in season 8)

A/N: Hi! This is my first ever fic, and the prompt is from the lovely @imagining-in-the-margins. I made this fic on my own, however I have my lovely betas ( @broken-stardust and @kirencer) who gave me wonderful advice! I am not the best, so please have patience with me. It’s been a long time since I’ve written for fun, so be honest! Please tell me what you think here and in the comments. I enjoyed making this.

WC: 1162 ish

Today I woke up knowing a few things: I have bad luck sometimes, I have an amazing golden retriever named Ginger, and today was a wonderful day to go play with her. As Ginger and I were walking, we stopped momentarily so that I could make sure that we were at the right park. When we continued to walk, I looked around the small park and noticed how many people were at the dog park today, some with dogs, a few with other people around them, and people just enjoying the early summer evening.

After walking for a little while, I had finally found the place that I deemed the perfect spot on top of a small hill. I dropped my stuff onto the cool grass, and with that, we were ready to relax.

My dog stood up, giving me the cutest face, and while looking at her, I decided to play a game of fetch with her. I let Ginger off her leash, and she ran circles around me. I found a ball deep inside my bag, and I showed it to her. I threw it up and down in my hands to get used to the weight of it. It was a lightweight, gray ball with the Kong logo on it, opposed to the normal red that they normally sell.

“Ok, go get it baby,” I said excitedly. Having seen no one near me, I thought it’d be ok for my dog to run around off the leash, but unfortunately, like I had said, I have horrible luck.

Suddenly, a tall man with gorgeous honey eyes adorned with glasses walked out of nowhere, and ended up being tackled by my frightened dog, making the both of them fall down the small hill. I ran over to the man and, in doing so, ended up tripping in the process, falling down the hill with them. As soon as I stood up, I rushed to apologize, but I was interrupted by the mysterious man.

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry," the man heaved, clutching his chest. "I didn't see you there. Are you ok? You took quite a fall!”

“Am I ok?" I laughed. "Are you? You just got tackled by my dog and you’re asking me if I’m ok?”

This whole situation seemed comical to me, but knowing my luck, it was bound to happen at some point in time. I found it ironic how he was apologizing to me, when it was clearly my fault.

“Well, you fell down the hill running after us!” The man pointed out.

“You have a fair point,” I agreed.

What’s your name? I want to properly apologize.”

“My name is Dr.- Dr. Spencer Reid, but you can call me Spencer. You don’t have to worry about the Dr. part. Are- Are you sure you’re ok?” He asked in a small panic

“I am so sorry, Spencer! My name is Y/N! Yes I’m sure that I’m ok! You’re the one who fell because of me, and of course my graceful dog,” I said sarcastically.

���Is there anything I can do to make this situation better?” In my head I was hoping that he’d ask for my number or for us to go out somewhere sometime, but knowing my luck, and how bad it can be, it was highly unlikely.

“Well, yes, actually. You can give me your number, only- only if you’d like to of course! We could go out for coffee sometime? Or we could go for a walk in a park? Maybe even with your dog,” he said with a small smile.

“Really? Sure! Here I’ll give you my number.”

I pulled a piece of paper out of my bag, and wrote my number on it. He looked happy as I handed it to him. His smile was gorgeous

“Um- okay. Would you like to talk to me for a little while? I came here alone, and now that I’ve realized that, it makes me feel a little awkward, but I’m warning you that we might get interrupted. I work for the FBI, and if they call I need to go.”

“Wow. You’re a doctor, and you work for the FBI!”

“I’m not a medical doctor! I have three phDs, I can read 20,000 words per minute, and I have an IQ of 187,” he said sadly, as if he’d gone through this conversation before many times.

“Wow. So you’re like a genius then, huh,” I said as I put Ginger back on her leash.

“I don’t believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified, but yes I’m a genius, by societal standards at least,” he said with a sad smile.

“Can I ask you a couple questions while we’re talking? I know it might seem a little strange since we just met, and I don’t want you to think I’m crazy or anything, but I think you’d be the only person I know who would be qualified to answer, and you seem like a very interesting person.” I asked with a small smirk

“Um, sure! Now, what were the questions?” He responded happily.

“Well first of all, do you have any clue why my dog tackled you? She normally doesn’t do that without a reason, and I want to know if I can somehow prevent this.”

“Well, you have a golden retriever, and the breed is very well known for being friendly, and I’m a complete stranger who entered in unannounced, so it’s natural that Ginger here would want to defend you,” he explained.

“You said that you had a couple questions, and that was only one. What’s the other one?” He said in a puzzled tone of voice.

“Do you know if bad luck is real?” I questioned.

“Well scientifically speaking, there is such a thing as luck, and there are things that you can do to change it. And it depends on how you are as a person as to how you define luck, either good or bad.” He answered quickly.

“So I do have bad luck?” I asked, with a frown on my face.

“I did not say that, however, statistically, depending on your personal definition of quote unquote bad luck, then yes and no, yes you do have bad luck, but at the same time, you could not have bad luck. I’m- I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“You are, but I find it quite cute. So, tell me, Dr. Spencer Reid, how can I change my luck?”

[alicemitch09writes]

lame

01.

it was supposed to be us against the world

It was just a normal Tuesday for you, the scorching sun was out, seeping whatever energy you had for today, class had just ended, and you were treading the thought of having to work later that day. But hey, girl’s gotta fend for herself, right?

Just as you arrived at the station, your phone buzzed in your pocket. Lazily taking it out, your (e/c) eyes scanned the text before shooting wide open, you instantly took off, never minding work, thoughts flying to one thing - Izuku.

For such a prestigious school, it sure had a lousy way of being indiscreet if it were located on top of a hill. Winded from the trip, barely feeling your legs, drenched completely in sweat from the trek, a hero awaited for you at the gate, giving you instructions on how to get to your location (he figured to give it straight to you, judging from your harried breathing and frazzled state alone).

Finding the clinic, you all but burst into the room, eyes easily finding curly green locks. "Izuku!"

Green eyes widened at the sight of you, taking the sight of you. "(Nickname)-!? H-How did you-"

"Are you alright?!"

Flinching at the pitch, tone, and of the overall worry painting your features, he all but gave you a sheepish look whilst rubbing the back of his head. That didn't help, but at least seeing him now in the bed was making your worries lessen.

“He’ll be fine, I’ve treated the worst of his injuries.” The small lady- hero, Recovery Girl, tells you from where she sat. “He just woke up and has made a full recovery now!”

Allowing yourself to sigh in relief, you collapsed by his bed, legs pressed against the cool tiled-floor, eyeing the green-haired boy with narrowed eyes.

"Really, Izuku, you better take better care of yourself."

A scarred hand reached out to pat your shoulder, seeping away the tiredness of practically storming all the way here. "I know, (Nickname). I'm sorry for worrying you..."

Once Recovery Girl assured you that she was to see your best friend fit, you allowed yourself to rest a while before making sure that his recovery was done. You would have loved to wait until he got better, so you can leave, but you had to report to work, even for just a bit then head home to change. Giving your best friend an apologetic look, Izuku nodded in understanding and you reluctantly complied to leave. But not without giving him a parting hug.

“Really, you have to stop giving me a heart attack,” you warned him, teasingly, earning a laugh from the green-haired boy. “I’ll be over for dinner later, okay?”

At that, his eyes brightened. “I’ll be sure to tell mom! She’ll surely be happy to have you over.”

“And I look forward to Auntie’s cooking!”

With one last wave at your best friend, a polite-grateful bow to the school nurse, you turned to the door.

Once out, however, you were face to face with the last person you wanted to see. You ignored him, bent on getting out of here. There was nothing to be said. Absolutely nothing. And it was better off that way.

“Ta-dah!”

“Uwah!!!” big green eyes – matching the shade of his wild curly locks, widened.

“What is it, what is it?” a small blond boy ran towards them excitedly, especially at the excitement at the tone of his two precious friends. “So, what is it?” he asked, head tilted in question at the object in hand.

Grinning toothily, the young girl placed it atop curly locks, flowers intertwined with each other, the green camouflaging with the boy’s locks, as though the flowers sprouted from his hair. “It’s a flower crown, silly!”

“Che, and I was excited for nothing,” the blond boy’s cheeks puffed. Carmine eyes glared at the object on his friend’s hair. “So girly…”

Miffed, the (h/c) girl’s tiny fists balled, stomping her foot. “W-Well duh, because I am a girl!”

“Yeah right!” teased the blond, scratching the underside of his nose, angering the girl as she began to growl.

“Hey, no fighting now…” the small green-haired boy called out to his friends. “…please?”

The two looked at him, then at each other before parting away, the girl’s arms crossed.

“W-Well, if Izuku says so! I’ll forgive you this time, Katsuki!”

Carmine eyes narrowed; cheeks puffed as they reddened to slowly match his eyes. “W-Whatever!”

At that, Izuku smiled, getting to his feet to grab the hands of his best friends. Smiles appearing on his other friend’s faces.

“Ah, by the way!” the (h/c) girl suddenly cried out, alarming the two boys. Heading towards the pile of flowers she was fiddling with earlier, she took something from the ground, keeping her hands behind her as she walked up to the blond boy. “N-Ne, Katsuki, g-give me your hand…”

“…what? No way!”

“Come on, just give me your hand!”

“No way, you might give me a bug!”

“No, I won’t!”

“Then you might just prank me!”

“Didn’t I say that I wouldn’t?”

“How would I know if you’re telling the truth!”

“If you just give me your hand!”

Stuck in between another argument, the green-haired boy could only laugh at their antics.

“K-Katsuki, please?”

She widened her eyes on purpose, pouting purposely to jut out her lower lip, it was all it took for the young blond to cave in. Also, she did say ‘please’.

Reluctantly, stretched out his hand watching as she happily reached for it, her hand now in his. His cheeks reddened, not that he’d say it out loud and chose to frown. “Alright, now close your eyes!” Not wanting to argue, he did as was asked, without putting up a fight. At first, he heard Izuku gasp and she quickly shushed him, almost excitedly, before he felt something slip into his ring finger. “Okay, now open!”

The first thing he saw were (eye color) orbs so big and bright – filled with excitement and joy before his eyes fell unto the object in his hand. The flowers were just as wild and vibrant as Izuku’s, except his was more but fit to wrap around his stubby fingers.

“Wow, (Nickname), it’s so pretty! You’re amazing!”

Chubby cheeks flushed at that, turning to him expectantly. “D-Do you like it?” came her quiet voice.

Silence.

Green and (hair color) heads turned to each other, sharing a look. The taller girl was about to ask again but stopped head tilting. Beside her, the green-haired boy’s mouth formed into an ‘o’, hands slapping against his freckled cheeks.

“K-Katsuki, are you turning-“

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” screamed the boy, messing his hair with his free hand before turning to the girl, a look of determination in his eyes as he pointed, using the hand with the ring flower. “W-W-When we get older, I-I’ll get you the biggest, shiniest, prettiest wedding ring, you hear me!?”

“Kacchan…”

“And Deku!” he turned to the green-haired boy, no longer irked by the flower crown. “You’re going to be my best man, got it?”

Realizing his outburst, the two friends burst into laughter, the blond’s face heating even more.

“Stop laughing at me! Deku! (Name)!”

“Auntie, you didn’t have to prepare so much!” you call out to Auntie Inko, eyes wide like saucers when you saw the meal served at the table.

Meal wasn’t even the word to put it, it was more like a feast! The Midoriya matriarch had prepared spaghetti, karaage, tempura shrimp, grilled eel, salad, and some side dishes. Basically, it was a lot of protein and carbs.

“Nonsense, (Name)-chan! It’s been a while since I last saw you,” she says kindly as you take a seat. “also, this is to celebrate Izuku’s good performance at school, so he can now rest easy for summer break.”

“Thank you so much, mom!” Izuku flusters, especially when she says it so easily in front of their guest as if you’re not used to it.

“Oh, Izuku, still that flustered momma’s boy, huh?”

“(N-Nickame)!”

Laughing, the three of you begin to dig in, exchanging stories about school, your part-time job, some funny customer Auntie Inko had to deal with earlier at the office (she was a government employee), your grandfather, and his dojo. It was always so comforting having dinners with the Midoriyas, always so warm.

Volunteering to help with the dishes, the two youngsters continued to catch up, talking about just about anything. It was always easy to talk with Izuku, always refreshing to be in his presence and hear his thoughts about things.

“Eh? So, you’re classmates with the son of Endeavour?”

“Yes! And his quirk is amazing! He’s half-cold and half-hot.”

“How does that even work?”

“Well, he’s in a constant state of homeostasis to balance out both quirks.”

“Must be hard to manage 24/7 then.”

“That’s true. But with enough practice, he may be able to stabilize both quirks to be able to do more, especially because it can be a double-whammy to villains who might not expect from someone capable of managing two quirks at the same time, there’s also the fact that he can be able to maneuver better should he master his other side…”

The kitchen slowly filled with his ramblings as the last of the dishes were taken care of, which you didn’t seem to mind. It always fun to hear him ramble, knowing that there was a big brain beneath his curly green locks. He was like a walking encyclopedia.

When the clock struck 9, you had announced that you were off, lest you worry your dear grandfather. Izuku volunteered to walk you home.

“Ah, please wait a minute, (Name)-chan!” Aunt Inko shouted when the two of you were at the front entrance, rushing towards you both with a few Tupperware in hand – leftovers from dinner.

“Oh my! Auntie Inko, thank you so much!”

She smiled at you, reaching up to caress your cheek. “Please drop by for dinner more often, (Name)-chan, okay?”

The hand was soft and warm against your cheek, calming your heart with love washing over you. Nodding, silently promising the older woman, you turned to Izuku, who opened the door for you.

“Good night, Auntie Inko!”

Once the two of you reached the neighborhood, you couldn’t help but stare off at the playground – still the same as before, but the paint’s probably new. You could almost picture out three kids running around, chasing each other merrily.

“Man, your mom really didn’t have to put up a feast.”

Laughing, Izuku scratched his cheek as he replied. “Well, she does like to go out whenever she can. Plus, it’s not always (Nickname) comes over for dinner. Also, I’ve been increasing my diet lately because of my quirk.”

Ah, his newly acquired quirk. “Come to think of it, you have been getting bulkier since the last I saw you.”

“Well, I have to compensate mass for all the power I’ve acquired.”

The matter of his quirk piqued your interest, especially because of how much it’s taking a toll on your friend. Instead of backing down, he readily worked his way to accommodate such power.

“True,” you nod, turning to him, realizing he’s grown several inches taller as well, you couldn’t help but giggle. “that and because you’re probably finally hitting puberty.”

“E-Eh!?”

“Dude, you used to be my height!” you tell him, gesturing with your hand your height. “Now, you’re…well, not really that huge, but the growth rate is a bit alarming, to say the least.”

Suddenly, he was sweating bullets, looking between relief and mild panic. “A-Ah…puberty…yes, m-must be th-that a-an-and i-i-it’s side-effects on t-th-the quirk- my quirk!” And there’s his stuttering. Still adorable.

Nudging him with your shoulder, you were quick to assure him. “There, there,” deciding to just sling your arm around his, you leaned on him comfortingly “you’ll always be cry baby Izuku to me!”

“(Nickname)!”

“Or was it wimpy Izuku?”

“(Nickname), please…”

Despite the name-calling, they were all in good fun. A comfortable silence filled in, nothing needed to be said as you two walked around the quiet streets of Musutafu.

For the first time since you were kids, you were apart because you went to different high schools, it hurt because you two were always together and you were each other’s shoulder to lean on. Technology had a great way of bridging you two together, keeping each other up to date on the other’s lives. But nothing beat direct communication with the ones you loved and you relished nothing more than these small moments with your best friend.

“By the way, (Nickname),” Izuku’s voice suddenly cut through the silence. “how is your grandfather? Couldn’t he have dropped by for dinner as well?”

At the mention of your grandfather, you couldn’t help your expression from souring. “Eh, let him be, he’s probably off watching reruns of those tournament matches to prepare. He wants to rough up the team to tough shape.” Despite his age, your grandfather had quite the build and was the martial arts coach at your high school (don’t ask which martial arts specifically, he knows them all).

“That’s true, he might want to challenge me at the front entrance door before dinner started.”

“And your mom would cry a planet at the devastation left between you two.”

It would be quiet the image, knowing how strong both your grandfather and Izuku was, and then Auntie Inko would be comically crying about in the background.

“Oh, and I’ll just watch because no way am I coming between you monsters, while comforting Auntie Inko.”

As the image progressed, the two of you giggled amongst yourselves, the two of you were nearing a lamppost, resting comfortably against his arm, when a presence before you made the two of you stop.

A blond teen came into view, halting at the sight of both of you. Dressed lazily in his home clothes, with a plastic bag filled with items he got from the convenience store.

Instantly, the laughter died out from you, lips set into a thin line.

“K-Kacchan…” stuttered the teen beside you, gulping at the tense air. “…g-good evening.”

Said teen could only blink, carmine eyes taking in the sight of both of you. Something glinted soon after.

Eyes narrowing, you gently tugged at Izuku’s sleeve, continuing your journey, dismissing the blond completely. The two of you walked past the blond, who slowly began to move when you did, starting a new conversation about Izuku’s homeroom teacher, anything to block off that one person who was forever dead to you.

(Blocks away, the blond stopped in his path, hands still balled into fists, glare fixed to the ground, while a gentle laugh coming from a gentle smile relayed in his head. They weren’t for him.

“Fuck.”)

Midoriya Izuku and Bakugo Katsuki were both your childhood friends.

They were both the first friends you made ever since moving into their town.

To be fair though, Bakugo was your first friend. He then introduced you to the green-haired boy a few days later.

Since then, the three of you grew close, were inseparable, and always played together. There was never a day when the three of you were not with the other, always ensuring to include the other whenever there was a new game to play, a new kid to befriend, or an adventure to go off to.

Bakugo had always been the leader of the three since he had such a strong personality and presence even at the age of 5. He was quick to protect the two of you and command whatever new stuff you were to do.

Izuku was his opposite, submissive, soft, and shy. Nonetheless, he had a very strong sense of justice, even when he seemed to cry a lot, and was recklessly impulsive.

And then there was you, the new girl – quiet, unassuming, tomboy. Sometimes, you liked to pretend to be the mom of the two boys, the big sister, the glue that kept you three together – but you and Katsuki knew that it was Izuku, really.

Regardless, you could always count on the two. Bakugo, especially.

He was the front liner to push you to do things you want to do, uncaring of the fact that you were a girl, because it was a minor detail to all the amazing things you could do – like catch a bug, run like the wind, play under the rain, climb trees, give bullies a beating when they were picking on Izuku, play video games, to name a few. (In addition, you were into martial arts, because it was in the family)

It was because you were so close to Bakugo that you picked up on cursing, much to the shock of dear Izuku’s innocent baby ears. You couldn’t help being a tomboy because of the fact that your best friends were guys and games the blond would instigate, you loved to challenge him in just about anything – especially at claiming to be Izuku’s bestest friend.

Still, whenever you fell or scraped your knee, it was Bakugo who’d lend a hand, angrily berate you on being reckless, before picking you from the ground or giving you a piggyback – Izuku would cry all the way, worried about your state and the possible scolding from your parents and grandfather.

You three were supposed to stick together, stay inseparable, always with each other.

That is until Bakugo discovered his quirk, followed by Izuku discovering that he was quirkless.

And ever since then, everything changed.

masterlist • two

[eideticmemory]

FINE LINE | SPENCER REID

Two decades and two children later, you and your ex-husband learn to navigate the world of co-parenting.

Word Count: 2,604.

Warning: Daddy issues, mommy issues, angst, drama, romance. Love to see it.

You could feel it. The light illuminating your face, touching it with a gentle heat that made your eyes flutter open. Your head felt heavy, as if your neck was attempting to support the weight of a canon ball. You rested your skull on the back of the chair you sat in, eyelids dropping just above your irises. Just in the distance, you could make out a cinema screen. Large, blurry, projecting a bright white screen.

Her image appeared in the center of the square, perfect, in place, still. But you could make out the grin on her face. Watching her dark red lips release the words, “Hello, sleepyhead.”

You could just barely muster up the strength to part your lips, pushing out a small gust of air. It was hot and made your mouth feel like it was on fire.

“H—“

“Oh,” she interrupted you, gently, quietly. You jumped at the feeling of her touching your arm, her palm tight around your forearm. She was cold, freezing, but you could still feel warmth radiating off of her. “I’m afraid you can’t stay too long this time. It’s time to wake up.”

“Hm?” You whined. “Mm?”

“Wake up,” she repeated. “C’mon, wake up. Wake up, wake up, wake u—“

“Up!”

You jolted, violently, harshly, your eyes springing open to reveal the usual sight of your bedsheets.

“Mom, wake up,” an exasperated voice sounded from beside you, the words catching your attention instantly. Tightly.

“Huh?” You mumbled, flickering your eyes up to the figure at your side, sitting on your bed, looking at you with a concerned stare. “Hm?”

“Are you alright?” Eden asked. Sunlight shone on her face, giving her the appearance of an angel. Sent to wake you, pull you back into reality. “What were you dreaming about?”

You let out a long sigh, as if you could even begin to explain your subconscious mind to your 15-year-old daughter. “Oh, y’know,” you whispered, sitting yourself upright and resting back against the headboard. “Just...lions, and tigers, and bears.”

“Oh my,” Eden responded, her big brown eyes concentrated on your face.

You chuckled underneath your breath, and let out a quick huff. “Oh, shoot, is your brother up?”

“He’s up, he’s dressed, he’s fed, and reading the Illiad.”

“Oh?” You stepped out of bed, pulling the duvet over your legs to reveal your pajama pants. “What happened to War and Peace?”

“He finished that yesterday.”

“He gets quicker every hour,” you shook your head.

“It’s a genius thing,” Eden shrugged. She fiddled with the ends of her hair, watching the strands brush over her fingers as she chewed her lip. “Hey, mom?”

“Yeah, kid?” You replied, standing in the bathroom mirror as you began to get ready for the day.

“You—you know dad, right?”

You stopped in your tracks, any and all movements coming to a halt. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and you spun on your heels, slowly, until you came face to face with Eden. “Uh . . . your dad?”

“Yes.”

“Tall? Long, brown hair? Hazel eyes? Has a birthmark on his right thigh?” You listed, toothbrush hanging from your mouth.

“Ew,” Eden cringed. “Yes.”

“Never met him in my life,” you shrugged.

“Mom.”

“Kid,” you tilted your head, face softening as you realized how nervous she was. “What’s up?”

She sighed, ducking her head down to avoid eye contact. “I invited him to my sweet 16.”

“Oh.” It came out like reflex. You said the word before you could fully process the information.

“Are you mad?”

“No—huh? E,” you rushed to sit beside her. “You don’t have to hide inviting your father from me—you—you don’t have to invite your father at all. He’s always welcome to visit on your birthday. And of course he should be at your sweet sixteen.”

“Really?” Eden questioned, eyebrows raised. “So, it will be a nice day? A nice party? Everyone will be nice to everyone?”

“Yes, yes, girl scouts honor.”

“Good,” she nodded, a satisfied smile on her face. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen him.”

“Oh, babe,” you murmured, tucking her hair behind her ear. “It—“

“Mom!” A shrill voice struck both of you with fear, coming out of nowhere.

“Yes, my love?” You directed at Emerson, watching him fidget with his hands in the doorway. His shaggy brown hair covered his face slightly and his button up was tucked into his khaki shorts.

“My chess tournament starts soon, are you coming?” He asked.

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything in the world, kiddo. You and your sister go downstairs while I get dressed.”

They’re obedient, your kids. Kind, driven, smart — with an average IQ of 187.5. The could take over the world if they really, really wanted to. But they don’t. They just want to go out for pizza, and get their twenty dollar allowance every week, hang out with their friends, focus on school, and . . . to see their father. You solemnly set your toothbrush down in the bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror — tired, worn out, nauseous from another . . . dream? Nightmare? You’re not sure, and frankly, you don’t want to think about it.

So, you pushed on. You got dressed, fixed your hair, used light makeup to cover your exhaustion. Stepping out into the bedroom, your eyes quickly fell on your cellphone — the device laying on your bedside dresser. Hands on your hips, you shook your head, telling yourself not to do it. It’s not necessary, it’s overbearing to even think about.

Then, you remembered who you were dealing with here. And you rushed over to picked up the phone.

“[y/n] Reid,” he beamed. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I heard you talked to E,” you whispered, pacing back and forth in your bedroom.

“I did,” Spencer confirmed. “She called me the other day.”

“To invite you to her birthday party.”

“Yes.”

“And are you planning on coming?” You asked.

“Of course I’m planning on coming. It’s my daughter’s sixteenth birthday.”

“Right, right, it’s not like you missed her fifteenth, or thirteenth, or her twelfth, or her actual birth, or anything.”

“[y/n]—”

“Listen, I didn’t call to argue, or even talk,” you sighed. “I just called to tell you that this party isn’t an option. You will be here Saturday at 10 o’clock sharp, you will help decorate, you will spend time with your children, and you will make this the best damn day Eden Reid has ever had. Understood?”

“I have to help decorate?”

“Spencer—“

“I will be there. 10 o’clock. I will help decorate, I will spend time with my children, I will make this the best damn day Eden Reid has ever had. I understand.”

You released a quiet huff, like your lungs couldn’t stand to hold the breath any longer. “Thank you.”

Spencer let out a soft, sad laugh, “Haven’t done that in a while.”

Chess gives you anxiety. You understand it. You can conceptualize it, and even play it. Well. But the bubbling in your stomach every time you witnessed a game — particually one where your eight year old son is playing — comes back to haunt you again and again. You don’t worry about Emerson, he can take care of himself. He’s like his father in that way, the game is in his blood. But the tension, the speed, the risk. It made your breath lodge in your chest, and every so often, you had to sigh to regain control.

The only thing that could pull you from that stress is Em. Emerson Derek Reid, the little half smile on his face when he wins a match. It makes the three hour tournaments worth it. Watching your boy play against college level students who have been playing all their lives. Yeah, so has he.

He jumps off stage in an excited state, rushing towards you with open arms. “You’re a tiger, kid!” You exclaim. “You killed it.”

“Thank you, thank you,” he shrugged. “It’s really my opponents’ fault, they wouldn’t know a queen from a rook if it was looking them in the face.”

“Ooh, cat fight.” E remarked, causing Em and you to laugh.

“Hey,” you said. “Since you’re both already out of school today . . . wanna play hookie?”

“Mom? I am shocked!” E gasped, trying hard to contain a laugh.

“Oh, c’mon, we never get to hang out anymore since you guys started these college classes and my business went up. I’m off work, you’re already out of class, let’s just do it. Let’s go shop and eat and hang out and I will write you guys an excuse for tomorrow, okay?” You rambled, putting your hands to their shoulders.

Em and E looked at each other, and after a minute, they looked up at you and nodded.

Your very, very favorite people on the whole planet.

You took them to the mall. Bought Em some new clothes, but he wasn’t really interested. You and E did most of the picking. He sat in the corner of the store reading and only participated to try on outfits you guys had picked out. You both squealed and told him how cute he looked, and he scrunched up his nose. Just like . . .

And then you bought E some shoes, some vans. There was a huge sell, and she fell in love with everything she tried on. And you fell in love with seeing her happy so you ran up a bill.

“Okay, which one of us is dying?” E said as you sat at lunch. Em bursted out laughing.

“Wha—neither of you! I just wanted to spoil you guys. You kill yourselves all week with school, even though it’s summer. And I never see you, that’s all.”

“Mhm,” Em hummed, an unconvinced look in his face as he eyed his sister. “I bet someone died.”

“Em!” You exclaimed, E’s laughter blending in. “God, you guys are morbid.”

“Our parents both worked in the FBI, we’re basically trained,” E giggled.

Just then, you got a call. Work. Fuck. You stood from the table and stepped outside, excusing yourself first.

“[y/n].”

“Can we close the Pickett case tonight?”

“Raven . . .”

“I don’t want that boy in that house for one more second. [y/n], I will send you more of my notes, but . . . read them, read them. You will understand. Please.”

You sighed, “I’ll be there at ten. If you are not there at ten . . . I’ll wait for you. Let’s do it.”

“Thank you! Thank you, thanks! Bye. Sorry. Bye.”

You took in a deep breath and shook your head.

Nothing was going to spoil your lunch. Not today.

The car ride home, the three of you vibed to music. Your kids knew every word to Fleetwood Mac’s discography and it was your greatest accomplishment. They even developed their own dance routine to Dreams when they were younger.

Your very, very favorite people on the whole planet.

You pulled up to your house, and as you approached the driveway, you saw a familiar car parked out front. Your stomach flipped, caved in, skipped, hopped, and jumped.

Words can’t even described what it did when you saw him.

Sitting on the porch swing.

“Dad?” Em exclaimed loudly in excitement. You parked in the driveway, eyeing Spencer the whole time.

“Dad?” E said quietly, confusion in her voice. “Did you—“ She directed at you, interrupted by her brother hopping out of the car.

Em ran up to Spencer, and his father scooped him up in a quick motion, spinning him around and kissing his head.

You let out a quick huff, turned to E and smiled, “C’mon, go say hi.”

You followed E out of the car, and watched as she tip toed towards Spencer. She suddenly skipped and jumped into Spencer’s arms.

“Hey, dad,” she said.

“Hey, kid!” He replied, before putting her on her feet. “Your hair is getting so long!”

“Yeah,” she twirled her hair and laughed. “What are you doing here!”

“I wanted to see you guys . . .” He turned to you. “And your mom, who’s quiet as a mouse.”

“Hello,” you shrugged, giving him a kind smile.

“Are you staying for today, dad?” Em asked, tucked under Spencer’s arm.

“I was actually hoping to stay until Sunday, if that’s okay with your mom, of course.”

Your very, very least favorite person on the whole planet.

“Please, mom? He can be here for my birthday!” E pipped.

Em. E. Em. E. Those big, pouty eyes of theirs staring you down. “You can stay in the guest room,” you told Spencer.

“Is that close to your bedroom?” Spencer smirked.

“Heh,” you huffed. “Don’t push it. You can stay upstairs.”

“Yes! C’mon, dad! I made a new model that I wanna show you!”

Later that night, you made the kids pasta. It was one of your finer cuisines, taught to you by an old friend, and they asked for it all the night, especially when they needed to study.

Spencer wandered into the kitchen after getting settled upstairs. “Woah! I thought we could go out for dinner, huh? My treat?”

“We would, dad,” Eden said. “But we both have tests tomorrow. Calculus and Physics. Maybe tomorrow.”

You set their plates down and looked up at Spencer. You walked over to him, eyeing him knowingly as you led him out of the kitchen.

“They’re nerds,” Spencer laughed.

“They’ve also both got an eidetic memory. It’s gonna take them all of three minutes to study, then they’ll be all over you again,” you told him, walking out onto the back patio.

Following you, Spencer closed the door behind him, isolating you two on the porch.

You sat down, plopped down, and looked up at him, “Why are you here?”

“Subtle.”

“Spencer.”

“I mean it, you should be a federal agent.”

“Spencer.”

He sighed heavily, “I have some things I want to . . . handle.”

“Here?” You asked.

“Yes,” he hesitated. “I haven’t been enough a part of the kids’ lives—“

You rolled yours eyes. Yeah, you knew that.

“I want to fix that, to have a real relationship with them.” He continued.

“You’ve always been able to,” you shrugged. “You get distracted.”

“Work,” he muttered.

“Always is.”

“And . . .” he whispered, his eyes flickering back and forth between you and the ground.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “And?”

“I — I want to fix my relationship with you.”

Huh.

“I want us to go to therapy.”

Huh.

“Wha—“ You stuttered, rising from your seat. “Spencer, what?”

“Not couples therapy. Nothing . . . romantic,” his voice cracked. “But we can’t keep acting so . . . poorly around the kids. They’re smart, they notice things. They always have.”

“Spencer, how are we gonna go to therapy? You’d need to dig up Freud himself and have him work on us full time.”

“I just think we need to talk,” he murmured. He stepped closer to you, breathing deeply as he towered over you. “Will you please just think about it?”

You stared him in the eye, let out a heavy exhale.

Spencer.

[laventae]

Serendipity

Summary: You accidentally bump into Suna once, then a second time, then a third time.... before it starts seeming like fate has already decided its course for the both of you.

Pairings: Suna Rintaro x F!reader

Genre: Mostly fluff, College/Uni au

Word count: 2.6k words

Part: (1) , 2 , (3) , (TBC)

(A/N: This chapter is shorter than what I had in mind, but I kind of want to leave it with that ending. Maybe I’ll make the next one slightly longer. Anyways..)

Ring Ring 

Ring Ring

‘I hope I don’t run into him today...’ you think before you jolt up on your bed and reach for your phone.

You dismiss the alarm and sit in bed for a few minutes, thinking about the night before.

Your heart rate quickens when you think about how badly the night could’ve ended, with the creepy old man following you out of the bar, and almost following you home. And how grateful you were when your ‘neighbor’ stepped in to help you out.  

You curl yourself up in a ball and hold back a scream when you think about how you lied to him about where you lived, only to see him again in front of your actual apartment, a couple of minutes later.

‘No, you know what, I did nothing wrong’ you assure yourself as you sit up in bed again, ‘I just wanted to play it safe, and after what happened with that creep, nobody can blame me for doing what I did, right?’

You sigh as you get out of bed and head to the bathroom to freshen up.

‘I still hope I don’t run into him today...’ you think to yourself, again, as you leave the bathroom and head for the kitchen to have a quick bite, before getting ready for work.

After about an hour, you’ve already finished having breakfast and you get ready to head out. You look at the time

8:48 A.M

‘Yeah, my shift starts at 9, so I guess I should head out right now’

You grab your bag and keys, then head for the door to put on your shoes.

When you were done, you open the door to your apartment. You stop in your tracks as soon as you notice your neighbor leaving his apartment as well.

‘Are you kidding me?’ you think, as you both stare at each other for a moment.

You clear your throat, leaving your apartment, then close the door behind you. You notice him do the same, turning his back to you to make sure he locks his door.

“Good morning...!” you try to greet him, hoping to dissolve the awkwardness you felt between the both of you.

He turns around to face you when he was done and nods, “Good morning” he replies, the same blank expression from yesterday plastered on his face. He then starts walking to the elevator.

‘I can’t read him at all; does he even remember what happened yesterday?’

“Wait!” you call out to him and he stops and turns around to face you.

‘Wait, what even am I supposed to say right now?’

“Yes?” he asks when you don’t say anything.

You walk up to him, and look at the floor embarrassed, “I just uh... wanted to thank you again... for yesterday,” you look up at him again, “And I'm sorry for lying to you about where I lived, when you were just trying to help”

He looks at you for a few seconds, and you feel yourself become uneasy under his sharp gaze, before he finally nods and speaks up again, “No, it’s understandable. You did good” he pats your head for a second, before looking away, turning to the elevators, “And you don’t have to thank me” he continues as he starts walking to the elevators once again.

You feel yourself slightly flush at the sudden and unexpected action, still frozen in place where he left you, and you curse yourself in your head for thinking he sounded super cool just then.

‘I still can’t read him at all, though...’ you think before turning back to him, and notice him entering the elevator.

“Wait!” you call out again, “Wait for me!”

You rush to elevator and notice him holding the door open, looking at his phone, but looks up at you for a second before you get in. He goes back to scrolling on his phone as the door closes.

“Uhmm...” you hesitantly start, noticing him look up at you from the corner of your eye, “I’d still like to thank you, though. Uh, I work at this café, like five minutes away from here, it’s called The Hub Café,” you pause for a second to look at him, he doesn’t say anything, waiting for you to continue, “If you, like, ever want to pass by and have some coffee, or anything really, it’s on me”

He still doesn’t say anything, just stares at you. You look away, becoming uneasy under his gaze, once again. 

Needing to fill the silence, you speak up again, “I mean, I know it isn’t much, and it definitely doesn’t compare to how you helped me out yesterday, but-”

Your rambling, however, is interrupted when you hear him chuckle lightly, and you look at him feeling embarrassed again.

“I’ll think about it” he tells you casually, and looks back at his phone, but you notice a faint smile on his lips.

‘Wow, so he can smile, huh...?’ you think to yourself but feel yourself slightly flush when you notice yourself staring at him.

“Right...” you mumble as the elevator door opens and he gets off, heading for the apartment building door.

‘Well, I think that went well?’ you sigh as you get off the elevator as well.

-~-~-

You hear the door of the café open and you quickly look up from the register, subconsciously hoping it was him.

‘What am I even thinking right now...’ you sigh, slightly disappointed, when you see a random customer come in instead.

A week has passed by since the last time you saw him.

It kind of starts making you feel bad. I mean was he avoiding you on purpose? Or was he just super busy? Did he even leave his apartment at all? Or has he not even been there this whole time?

You slowly start noticing yourself glance up at the door, at you part-time job, more often. Whenever someone comes in, you somewhat hope it’s him. You subconsciously start leaving your house every day around the same time you left the last time you both bumped into each other, before you left for work. You take your time unlocking the door when you get home, hoping he would also get home around the same time, or maybe leave his apartment by then.

But, nothing.

“Thank you for your hard work! Have a nice weekend!” you hear your boss call out to you as you head for the door at the end of your shift.

“Thank you! You too!” you answer and leave the café.

You sigh, ‘he didn’t come today either...’

Lately, you’ve been trying your best to cut back on taking late night shifts, scared of having another run-in with that old man. And thankfully, it’s only about 3 p.m in the afternoon right now, people still out, bustling around the shops, so you felt comfortable walking back home on your own.

You groan as you start making your way back home.

‘Why am I even still thinking about him? Whatever...' you think as you grab your phone from your bag and call Hina, to try and get your mind off of it.

The line rings a couple of times before she picks up.

“Heyy y/n!” she answers the phone, her usual excited tone never failing to cheer you up when you wanted to.

“Hey Hina, you busy right now?”

“Nope, not all, what's up?” she asks sounding concerned.

“Nothing specific, was hoping you would keep me company as I walk back home”

“OH! Of course! So... what’s on your mind, hm?”

“Huh? Nothing... Like I said, I just wanted the company”

You hear her laugh on the other end of the line, “You pretend like we haven’t been best friends for the last 2 years, you know. So come on, spill. I know you always call me like this when you’re overthinking something, so, what is it?”

“Nothing...” you say pouting, and you hear her laugh again.

“Who’s bothering you? Is it your boss? Or Oh! Is it about that guy? Your neighbor? Did you run into him again?”

You sigh, “Well, yes, it's about him... But no, it’s more like, what’s bothering me is that I haven’t run into him again, how is that even possible? He literally lives right in front of me!”

“There it is,” you hear her giggle before she continues, “Listen, I don’t know what happened with him, but honestly, you need to just forget about him”

Frankly speaking, you haven’t really told her exactly what happened between the both of you. You just told her that he helped you out of an uncomfortable situation a couple of days prior. It’s not that you were hiding something from her, you knew you were eventually going to tell her what happened, but honestly, you yourself still hadn’t wrapped your head around how that night unfolded, so you weren't really ready to talk to her about it just yet.

Besides, the fact that she always hated you insisting on walking everywhere didn’t help, especially at night. She always offered to walk you back home herself, drive you back, or at least call a cab for you. She’s always been protective of you like that. So, you know that all hell would break loose when she hears about what happened, and you weren't ready for her berating you about it. It was all out of love, you knew that, but you just weren’t ready yet.

“I know... I know...” you sigh again, “I’m trying. Anyways, it’s just stupid, like I was just trying to thank him, but whatever” you continue as you notice you were almost close to your apartment building.

“Hey, you know what? I know what would help you get your mind off him. How about that date I was telling you about?” she asks, getting excited again.

‘Cupid Hina is back’ you think as you roll your eyes.

“Really? Right now?” you chuckle.

“Yes! It’s literally the perfect time, come on! It’ll help you get your mind off things”

“You won’t quit even if I say no, will you?”

“You know I won’t” she says and you hear her giggle.

You groan as you get into your building.

“I promise you, he’s super cool, and super nice, I’m literally one hundred percent sure you guys would hit it off” she continues.

You sigh as you wait next to elevator, “How is he any different from all the other people you set me up with?”

“I just know” she answers you, way too confident.

You sigh again, “And you told me he was your cousin or something? Rintaro? That was his name, right?”

“Yes! He just got back from abroad, like, a couple of weeks ago. So, what do you think about it? This weekend maybe? You’re off tomorrow, right?”

“Sure, sure, whatever,” you answer, hoping to just end the call before you get in the elevator, “tomorrow is fine”

“Yaaaay! Alright, I'll text you the details later tonight, alright?”

“Alright.” you both say your goodbyes before you get in the elevator and get to your apartment.

No sign of your neighbor that day either.

-~-~-

You get to the restaurant early, and the host guides you to your table.

“Here are your menus,” they say, placing a menu on the table in front of you, and on the opposite side of the table, where your date is supposed to sit, “If you need anything else, please let me know”

“Alright, thank you” you say. They nod and walk back to welcome the other guests.

You usually prefer going early to places you’ve never been to, especially when going on dates, just so you could check the ambiance of the place and familiarize yourself with the area and menu before your date gets there. Somehow, that makes you feel more comfortable.

However, this time, the place Hina tells you that your date booked was a much fancier restaurant than the usual, which, similarly, makes you even more nervous than usual. You don’t usually opt to go on fancy restaurant dates, you’re much more comfortable in more casual settings.

You wait for about 15 minutes, going through the menu a couple of times and checking your phone occasionally, until you notice it’s past the time when your date was supposed to be there. You look around the restaurant but only see couples sitting around on their tables, probably on dates as well, but nobody else was coming in.

You sigh and decide to go to the toilet and freshen up for a bit.

After doing so, you wash your hands and look at the mirror.

‘What am I even doing here...?’ you sigh to yourself, ‘If he doesn’t get here in 10 minutes, I'm legally allowed to leave, right?’

You chuckle to yourself at how lame that sounded, but you decide to go with it anyway. If he doesn’t get here in ten minutes, you’ll leave.

You nod your head at your reflection before grabbing a paper towel, and drying your hands.

You take one last look in the mirror, fixing your hair, before leaving the toilet.

You look around the restaurant, then to your table, and find nobody there, still.

You take out your phone to text Hina as you walk to your table,

TO ‘Wifeyy <3’: “Queen, he’s nowhere to be seen, I think he’s the one who ditched this ti-”

You accidentally bump into someone before finishing the text and you drop your phone.

“Sorry! I wasn’t looking!” you say, bending down to grab your phone but the person you bumped into reaches it first.

“Oh, thank yo-” you’re cut off, flustered, when you notice your neighbor standing in front of you.

It seems like he was startled for a second as well, before you both straighten up and he hands you your phone.

“Uhm, thank you”

“No problem”

You both stand there awkwardly for a few moments.

‘Who would’ve thought? He looks good, all dressed up...’

You curse that thought before you look at him and speak up again, “Wait, what are you doing here?”

He looks at you for second before looking around the restaurant, looking for something, or someone(?), “Oh, I'm actually supposed to be meeting someone here,” he looks back at you and stares you up and down, not really in an intimidating way, more like he was analyzing the way you looked, “what about you? On a date?”

‘How can he even say, or do, things like that so casually?’

You couldn’t help but flush at the way he was looking at you, so you look away, slightly embarrassed.

“Uhm- Yeah- I guess something like that”

‘Why do we have to keep bumping into each other like this?’

“What about you?” you ask, turning to him again, “On a date as well?”

“I guess?” he answers, as he scratches the back of his head, “I mean, my cousin set me up on this blind date with her friend or something, but I think I might've been a bit late. I'm not sure if she’s still her-”

“Wait” you interrupt him

‘Wait... there’s no way...’

‘No, there’s definitely no way...’ you think as you unconsciously let out a laugh.

“What?” he asks, looking at you, confused, and your eyes snap to him.

“Uh, is your name Rintaro, by any chance?”

“Yes, why?”

‘You’ve gotta be kidding me...’

“And is your cousin’s name Hina, by any chance?”

He looks at you confused and was about to answer, before it clicks with him as well.

“You’re y/n?”

You laugh nervously, “Yeah...”

(HQ Masterlist)

[caesthetix]

KIDS IN LOVE — Pt. 1 No Beauty In War

↪Porco Galliard mini-series

↪content; major character death, canon universe, description of violence, unrequited love, admiring from afar, season 4 spoiler, manga spoiler 119

War was cruel and he tried to push you away from it.

Everything used to be so easy before. When your routine was just sending cookies and cupcakes to the Galliards, when your concern was just the blush on Porco's face when Pieck was around, when what you knew was that the Island of Paradis filled with demons.

How beautiful the world was before, for you to have such a mundane life.

You wished you could go back to that time.

"Hey, Pock."

He groaned once the nickname slipped from your lips, making you chuckle in the process with how easy it was to make him agitated. And for that, you really needed to thank Pieck later. "Pock, Pock~ Why don't you look at me~?"

"Seriously, you are such a kid." He grumbled, irritated with how you were just here only to annoy him. Your feet dangling on the tree stump where you sat on. "Why don't you go home? Just drop your cookies to my mom instead of being here doing nothing."

"Well, I am a kid!" You exclaimed. "And what's wrong with being here? I want to hang out for a while." With you, but you bite your tongue to hold that thought from reaching the surface.

The blonde just shrugged and continued his chore, chopping down some of the wood into halves. He was always groaning so loud as he did so, as if he put all of his energy into that. You knew better though, he was more than capable of cutting down a few kinds of wood with a meagre strength.

And knowing that he had changed into a colder person since Marcel embarked on the mission in Paradis, you needed to be extra careful with him.

"Hey, Porco." You called out once again, fingers fiddling with the bag of cookies in your hand.

"What?" He answered nonetheless, despite the annoyance that was dripping in his tone.

You pondered if it was the right thing to ask. But you have made up your mind, the thought had been haunting you for perhaps months now, making you restless at the point it was hard for you to sleep. So you couldn't back down, you need to know of a way.

"Who usually is needed in a war except, well, warriors?"

He stopped his axe midair as the question slipped from your lips, putting it down slowly before giving his full attention to you. You flinched, trying to act as calm as ever under his wandering gaze. His lips shaped into a thin line, eyes scrutinizing your face.

"There are medics, of course." He stated, though somehow he sounded careful as he shared the information. "Doctors, nurses, we all need any kind of help within that field. Then there was a researcher, professor, you know — geniuses."

You nodded, pondering if you could be in one of the fields. Perhaps nurses, yes, you just needed to know all the basics, working alongside doctors. But you didn't know if you could start to be a dependable nurse at the same time Porco would go on a mission.

"And chef."

Your eyes immediately lit up at his last statement. "Warriors and others need food too." Good. Cooking was something that you could do. You even knew that Porco loved some of the cuisines that you made, from how he always asked for a second when the Galliard had dinner at your house.

Deep in thought, you didn't see how his eyes filled with horror at the realisation.

"Then, what can I do to be enlisted in a war?" You looked up, now with confidence in your voice.

"Huh?"

"Tell me, Porco. You must know information like this, right?" You slightly begged, softening your eyes to push down the eagerness on your gesture. "I want to join you, to be there beside you when we win and for us to get our freedom." You rambled on, but your friend just stayed put in his place without saying anything. "Porco—"

"You think war is a game for you?" His voice was low, making your pupils dilated at the bitterness in it. "War needs someone braver, not just someone with a mindless dream like you." You didn't know what was in his head right now, but this side of him scared you.

Porco took a few steps forward, now just inches away from where you sat. His eyes glowering down at you with disgust, you couldn't help but let out a small whimper. "You think your burnt cookies and mediocre food could please the higher-ups? You think a weak kid like you could survive more than an hour on the battlefield?"

"I am not weak." You answered as stern as possible, ignoring the crack in your voice as you challenged his gaze. His eyes twitched at your reply before seething in anger at your words.

As if something snapped within him, he grabbed your wrist and raised it abruptly, so fast that you couldn't hold your grasp on the bag of cookies. You gasped as the crumbs scattered on the ground, but you couldn't move to save it as his hand tightened. "Porco, let me go—"

"See? You are weak." It felt so brutal at the reminder. "I am here gripping your wrist with a little force and you are already cowering like a kid." He smirked, but it was not the same smirk that he usually had when he teased you. "Oh, yeah, you are a kid." He wrecked you, slapping the fact on your face. "And a kid like you will die in a war."

He gritted out every word with mockery. You knew that being a part of the war meant that you had to be more assertive, braver. But wouldn't everyone work together to win the war? If one of the warriors was in need of assistance, wouldn't they help each other?

But Porco being Porco, he knew what clouded your mind. "Never think that someone would save you. Not even me. You know why?" His face grew closer at the point you could feel his hot breath on your face, making you suck your breath. "Because you are not worth saving."

You kicked him with all of your might, turning your face in another direction as you jumped down from the tree stump and ran. You didn't want him to see the tears threatening to fall, you didn't want to give him the satisfaction that his words impacted you deeply that you knew it would leave a scar on your heart.

"You go, kid! Run!" You heard him shout. "Do the only thing that a kid could do! Run!"

Yes, you were running away from him. But as you run, you balled your hand into a fist.

You promised that someday you were going to prove to him that you were not just a useless kid.

War was an endless nightmare, and how everything turned out in front of you became a reminder of what it was capable to do.

You heard the scream, a familiar scream that threatens to tear your eardrums. It was Zeke, that howl belonged to the beast titan. And just like that, you could see all the glows around you. One, two, no, you couldn't count how many of the Eldians in Paradis rapidly turned into titans. The city lit up with almost everyone becoming a monster inside their blood.

As you lay low on the tall building, you wiped your eyes from the dust and dirt, wanting to see more clearly of the condition in the battlefield below you. You gasped when you saw two familiar light blondes that belonged to the Grice brothers.

He glowed, Falco's body covered with a yellowish light. That was when you realised what was going to happen. The boy might have ingested Zeke's spinal fluid, and from the range he stood right now, the power inside him would be activated.

That little kid had so much in his future, and you wondered if he ever told Gabi about his feelings. And now, he was going to be a titan.

But your eyes watered even more when you saw as Colt stayed still, he was there hugging his little brother, not caring anymore that it would kill him in the process.

"Colt—"

You cracked your neck to the left and right, stretching your limbs as you let the tiredness start to sink in. Today, you were helping Niccolo to feed the Eldians warriors, saying that it would be a good time too to get to know some of the warriors who fought for Marley.

Ever since you received the invitation from Commander Magath, you had been working nonstop. He praised your skills in knowing nutrition and your capability of making a personal menu for each warrior, informing you that you would be a good addition to the military.

There was no time to slack off, you sharpened your mind and tried a lot of new recipes that could please the warriors while sticking to their diet.

"Hey, you can go there, you know? Some of them asked to meet the new chef behind their, let me quote, magnificent food." You snorted as Niccolo cleaned his hands with the towel. "Take off your apron and flaunt! You are only young once."

"You are young too, remember that?" You chuckled at his remark. For a pure Marleyan, you were surprised that he didn't look down at you. He respected your skills, not caring that you were an Eldian, and treated you like you were family most of the time. "But okay, I will take your advice."

Cleaning your hand and taking off your apron, you looked at the small mirror in the kitchen to make sure that you look proper. You heard a chuckle from your friend, somehow knowing that you were always a worrywart when it came to how people looked at you.

"You look fine, just go on, they are begging to meet you."

"Alright, alright you impatient old man."

You ignored the surprised gasp from him and went outside to the room where he assigned the warriors to. To say that you were nervous would be an understatement, you were afraid that you would flinch or ended up being too timid.

No, you were not a kid anymore. A few intimidating warriors wouldn't make you crumble.

You heard a loud chatter as you stood in front of the door. It was wrong to eavesdrop, but when you heard someone mention how good your cook was, your heart swelled with appreciation. Alright, that was enough, it would be better if you announced yourself.

Knock knock knock.

You heard a shout telling you to come in, and you didn't waste your time over it. The second you came in and closed the door behind you, you straightened your posture and gave them a small bow.

"See? Now you owe me another meal here."

"It's a young woman, I did not expect that."

"Wait, (Y/n)?"

In between all of the noises from the men, who apparently made a bet about how the chef would look, you heard a feminine voice coming from one of the chairs. Your eyes fleeting towards their direction, finding a woman with slightly dishevelled black hair and relaxed eyes.

"Huh?" You blinked, recognition dawned upon you. Then your eyes widened. "Pieck?"

Your hands were sweating as you tried to lock your gaze on her. She blinked as she saw the distress in your eyes, yet you kept staring at her. If she was here, then that would mean one thing.

Porco was here too.

Well, that explained the feeling of someone glaring a hole in your skull.

"Pieck, you know her?" Someone spoke up, it was the same man whose voice you recognised praising your food before. Before she could answer, he walked toward you with a giddy step, a soft smile plastered on his face as he extended your hand for you to shake. "Name's Colt, Colt Grice."

His presence brought you back to reality. You were here to impress them, a ghost from the past could be taken care of later. Shaking his hand, you gave him a polite smile as you looked at him with your warm gaze. You tried not to think too much about the blush on his face at the moment.

You still could feel someone drilling holes in your direction. The man in front of you seemed not to notice. Colt was saying a lot of things to you. He ignored some groan in the background about how he was taking all of your attention, he continued praising your food and how everyone didn't expect to see a beautiful young woman to be the one behind their marvellous food today.

"I thank Commander Magath for assigning you to the military branch."

Someone stood up abruptly from their chair, making you flinch a little before composing yourself in a second. Both you and Colt, interrupted from the light conversation from before, now focused on the commotion behind you. There you saw a man with his gaze darkened, hands gripping tight on the side of the table. His friends were worried about his drastic gesture.

"Hey, Porco, are you alright?"

But his flaming eyes never left your face.

The aftermath of the titans' transformation was hell. All of the warriors were scrambling around to save themselves, only resulting in a delayed death. Their end was impending, and yet they were all wriggling and running, fighting for their own life.

Your gaze was still fixated on the spot where the brothers stood before. It was as if there were hundreds of bombs that detonated at the same time and now your vision filled with dust and rubble, blinding you from what was happening.

You whimpered as dried tears stained your cheek. For the past few hours, you have cried so much as you saw the cruelty of war. But Colt, oh, Colt — a man who was too good for this world, someone who cared deeply for his brother, someone who always hyped you up even when your old friend seemed to try to kick you out from the military.

War was evil, that was what Porco always tried to say to you. And yet here you were, in the middle of it all, watching how your race tried to kill each other. Watching; how your comrades died one by one in the most gruesome way.

No, there was still Porco. You still had Porco, Pieck, and Reiner. You couldn't see where the jaw titan was before, unlike the others. The last time you saw him was when he worked side by side with Reiner before all the debris concealed your vision from the event under you.

But as your vision finally cleared, you felt like someone just shot you through your chest.

"No. No."

A titan tried to eat Reiner. His jaw was fixated on the Armored Titan's nape. Somehow the titan looked familiar, and your eyes widened when you connected the missing puzzle.

It was Falco, and you didn't dare to look around, feeling sure that Colt was gone for certain from how close he was with his brother when he transformed.

Searching through the battlefield, you squint your eyes, trying to understand what was happening right now. Then you saw it, the jaw titan. Porco's titan. Laying idly on the ground not too far from Reiner.

Then just like that, you were reminded of how cruel war could be.

Falco's titan retracted his jaw from Reiner's nape. His long neck whipped to the side, murderous eyes locked to a new prey that was out in the open. A human flesh, without anything concealing them.

It was him, Porco, your old friend, the one who never wanted you to be here in the first place. Half of his face was gone from the impact that he took as a titan. You couldn't hear what he said as he walked to where Falco and Reiner were.

Everything happened so fast after that, yet you could catch every detail of how it took place.

You watched as he just accepted his fate, the pace that he chose was slow, though certain as he was ready to embrace death. He didn't scream, he didn't do anything as Falco's titan ran towards him, with one goal to devour him alive.

That was what he always did, saving children and comrades.

No matter how many humans he killed, no matter how his face often turned into a scowl for certain people, he was always the same Porco Galliard who would prioritize kids and his friends. He never changed. No, that was wrong. He did change.

But even though he changed, he had become a better man for every day that went by.

You couldn't hear anything as your eyes never left the nightmare in front of you. All the bodies that scattered around the ground, your comrades, fellow Eldians from Marley, even some citizens that you met here in Paradis, and Colt. Their deaths would be imprinted forever in your head.

Porco was right after all, just like usual, maybe this was why he didn't want you to be here. There were so many times he would pull you to the side after a meeting, just to tell you about the terror that followed in war. He told you about the horror inside the dead bodies, bloodshed, and screams that flew nonstop.

He tried so hard to show you that war was something that couldn't be stopped. That one day all of your comrades would die, some couldn't be recognised anymore, and neither would you. After all the war that you had been through before, you kept looking forward and never let yourself linger for a long time.

You always shrugged it off before, knowing for certain what you were signed up to. Of course, there was no beauty in war, you even knew there was no winning side at the end of the day. Just people who died on the battlefield, and those who survived.

Every time you imagine what war looks like, you were always ready. No matter how many deaths that you have seen, your eyes kept fixated on the freedom that would follow soon.

But perhaps, it was not the war itself that he deterred you from stumbling in — it was this.

Your hand clasped your mouth as you let the dam break, new tears replacing the previous stains that were glued on your face. Falco's titan crashed to the ground as he had Porco's body in between its teeth. You wanted to scream out, but you couldn't, or else the titans surrounding you would eat you alive.

The worlds crumbled the second you knew there was no tomorrow for Porco.

He was gone, half of his body swallowed down in an instant. And you could do nothing except push down your pain and hide yourself even further inside the rumbles where you hid.

You tried to calm down as you processed what happened. There he goes, he leaves and wouldn't come back. Your heart was racing and not from a reason that you wanted to remember. You felt like you couldn't breathe as you realised — that was the last time for you to take a look at your dearest friend.

And you would never have a chance to tell him.

Neither of how right he was about war.

Nor how beautiful he was in your eyes.

↪Back to Wall Maria

↪Send an ask if you want to be a citizen of Paradis (taglist)!

[trentaafcsblog]

Writing Challenge - Random

“Is that...my shirt?” - Harry Winks

Thank you to the lovely @penguintransporter for this one 🤍

There’s a drizzle in the air, misty and almost intangible, and the wind that carries it is gentle, but cold, feeling fresh against his freckled skin. His hair is slightly wet, the tips stick to his forehead, and he feels like he should probably find a cover under some roof on the side of the pavement, but he doesn’t do it, afraid that she won’t see him if he steps away.

It’s a quiet Thursday afternoon, almost too quiet, and the only sound he can hear is the loud laughter from the nearby pub where the regulars are getting rowdier and merrier with every pint they consume as the aroma from the nearby chippy shop along the street fills his nostrils and makes his stomach grumble.

Hopefully, she’ll be here soon.

Not long after his stomach voices yet another complaint, he notices her while she crosses the road, for a second blending in with the crowd of Londoners, and he smiles to himself as he takes his hands out of his fish-tail parka pockets – excitement filling up his stomach, and he suddenly feels no hunger any more.

“Bloody hell, Winksy,” she stops in front of him, shaking her head as she tries to shake off the excess raindrops out of her hair, “what is this weather? Didn’t we settle for today because it was supposed to be sunny? Can we go back to Spain or wherever they have sun every day?”

Harry grins.

“Hello to you to Sophie. I’ve been alright, thanks for asking. Yourself?” he teases subtly, making her look up at him with a grin, and something inside of him shifts.

“Won’t you look at the lack of my manners, huh? Hi, Harry! It’s been a while, no?” she responds – her words mumbled as he brings her into his arms for a quick hug, aware that the surface of his jacket is wet from the rain.

As he pulls away, he unzips his parka and takes out a beanie hat from the inside pocket before pulling the zip back, all the way to his chin. “Here,” he murmurs as they start walking along the Bermondsey Street and towards their favourite coffee spot, “it’s not exactly an umbrella, but it’ll do until we get inside. Keeps that bird’s nest of yours dry,” he adds to make it more light-hearted.

“And what about you?” Sophie inquires as she looks up at him, blinking away the raindrops that were trapped in between her eyelashes. “Plus, this feels freakishly expensive. Is it merino wool? I am afraid I will stretch it. Take it back, Harry, I know I will stretch it.”

“Sophie, you’re rambling,” Harry points out, sticking his hands back into his pockets, “just put it on, or I will be forced to do it myself. It’s just a hat.”

Sophie doesn’t say anything but smiles before putting the beanie on, gently pulling it over her ears until they were neatly tucked in.

Harry and Sophie have known each other for a bigger portion of their lives – way before they realised that one cannot get cooties by kissing someone, and way before they acknowledged the fact that being adult is not as cool as they thought it would be. Harry was five and Sophie four years old when they met for the first time, tagging along with their fathers to one of their regular pints-before-the-match meetings around Hertfordshire.

Sophie was an odd-ball, with fine, straight cut hair – a bit chubby and with pale cheeks that were constantly stained with a blush while Harry was a lanky, hyperactive boy who was able to recite all the strikers that ever played for the England’s National Team.

Growing up, week after week, they kept tagging along, sometimes actually eager to watch the match, but mostly just running around the dark pub, knocking over things and making other people and pub-owners annoyed with their antics, but, once the tiredness overpowered them, they always ended up doing one thing – sitting together in between their fathers, drinking juice and sharing a packet of crisps.

Twenty years later, despite growing up, changing interests and music tastes, schools and extracurricular activities, neither Sophie nor Harry forgot how strong their friendship was when they were kids. Even if they had different circles of friends, schedules and timetables, ambitions and aspirations, they always made sure to at least devote one day in a month for one-another.

“How’s school?” Harry asks as he walks back from the till where he had been picking up their drinks – a flat white for himself and some weird mocha-something for her, but before he has time to set the mugs down on the wooden table, he stops in his tracks, watching Sophie shrug her coat off. “Is that… my shirt?” he asks as the warmth fills up his body, and he feels his stomach do a flip.

Sophie blushes and sits down before pulling on the sleeves of Harry’s Champion’s crewneck. “Yeah,” she admits,  smoothing the collar a little, “it somehow ended up in my suitcase when we got back from the holidays, and I forgot to return it.” Sophie smiles as she takes a sip of her drink.

“Forgot or didn’t want to?” Harry teases as his mind goes back to their last trip to Mallorca together, a year ago – a trip where Harry realised that Sophie wasn’t the same chubby, pink cheeks, and missing front tooth girl he used to play tag with in a dimly lit pubs.

“Both,” Sophie responds, looking away, trying to hide her blush from Harry’s curious eyes, but he notices it and tries to hide his smile.

Harry has always had a soft spot for Sophie, and if asked to why, he was sure that he wouldn’t be able to give an answer. Maybe it was the fact that they met at such young age, or maybe it was the constant prodding and poking of their mothers, subtly hinting that they would be a perfect couple. He couldn’t tell, but whatever it was, recently it only became stronger, and it made him feel a certain kind of excitement whenever he texted her, whenever they face-timed one another, and whenever he knew that she was watching him from the stands, wearing a shirt with his name on the back.

“It looks as if it has stopped raining,” Sophie murmurs as they both look through the window of the cafe where they had been sitting for the past three hours, chatting their afternoon away.

Harry nods, glancing at her and lets his eyes linger on her for a second, watching her observe the clearing sky on the outside, and his stomach makes that familiar flip yet again. “Do you want to go somewhere for a pint? I probably shouldn’t, but I fancy one.”

“Only if you buy me a packet of crisps,” Sophie smiles, and he pulls a face at her, but he knows that he would buy her the world, if she asked him to. They quickly get up, putting their coats back on, and  he makes sure to hold the doors open for her before they step out in, now, with sun streaked London street. Sophie sighs happily as they start walking before reaching out the beanie towards him. “Thanks, but I don’t think I will be needing this from now on. But if you’re wondering what to get me for upcoming Christmas, I am letting you know that one of these, merino, alpaca or whatever hats might be a good idea, but it doesn’t have to be fan—,”

“—Careful!” Harry interrupts and Sophie yelps a little as he pulls her closer to his side.

“Jesus,” she whispers – side of her face still pressed against his side.

Harry is grinning now as he looks down at her. “Sorry, but you almost stepped into a huge puddle. See there, and I have no spare socks to borrow you if you get yours wet.”

“Oh,” Sophie breathes out, but quickly feels the temperature rise in her body as she glances at where Harry was holding her hand in his, and it makes him stop as well – his boyish smile disappearing for a second, but he never drops his hold on her hand. Instead, he intertwines their fingers together – his thumb stroking over her soft skin before he smiles again.

“I like this,” he mumbles, “I don’t know about you, Sophie, but it feels nice. Can we hold hands for a bit longer?”

Sophie is quiet, looking down at her shoes as she tries to gather her thoughts, but she doesn’t need to say anything in the first place because her blush is answering all the spoken and unspoken questions.

“I like it too, and I’d love to hold hands with you,” she answers, and Harry only grins as they start walking again – hand in hand, and with their stomachs filled with thousands of little butterflies, dancing on the beat of their hearts.

This imagine is in collaboration with Cancer Research UK 💗 please feel free to follow the link if you would like to donate, but as always, there is no obligation 🦋 if you’ve got the time, then please have a little look at their website and check out the amazing work that they do 🤍 they also have an online shop where you can buy products for yourself (mugs, notebooks, blankets) or something for those affected by Breast Cancer (anxiety help books, mastectomy bras, support cushions) - all of which have the option to be donated to out to those affected by the disease if they can’t afford these things themselves, or would prefer to receive something physical instead of a donation, with all of the proceeds going directly to the same causes as general donations x

[browniefox]

Poker Playing Family Time

@wrightfamilyweek day 6 - Routine.

The Wrights enjoy some bonding time at the Borscht Bowl Club. Can also be read on AO3 right here :)

oOo

It’s kind of a miracle that, despite it all - despite Daddy working five days a week at the Borscht Bowl Club and the other two with his Secret Project, and then Trucy (once again, in the new school year) trying to do a single show every-other weekend and then school on the weekdays - that there’s still ever a chance for Trucy to help Daddy out with his poker games.

Daddy has made some kind of deal with the Borscht Bowl Club over the years so that he’ll only take on the more serious poker players once a month; a saturday evening, the last of the month, when Trucy didn’t have a show. Trucy was more than willing to move around her schedule at the Wonder Bar as she needed to go with Daddy on those days. Daddy had told the staff he just liked bringing his daughter with him, his good luck charm. It was normal, after all these years, and none of the staff nor the usuals so much as blinked anymore at her trailing after him.

Usually, Daddy drives places now, but on Big Poker Nights, when he’s with Trucy, they walk from the office to the club. They leave right after Trucy gets home from school, walking down the street, chatting about Trucy’s school day and the bits and pieces of Daddy’s Secret Mission he’s willing or able to tell her. She rattles off the countries in the North American continent with Daddy checking her answers on the practice sheet. When she’s done, Daddy complains about annoying people he’s had to meet with or talk to - never by name - and practices a heavily-edited version of some speech with each recital of it getting goofier and goofier until they’re both laughing as they walk through the club doors, out of the warm sun and into the cold.

“Evening Phoenix, Truce,” Ms. Vanessa greets them, and Daddy makes a token effort to quiet down his laughter, “There’s an early competitor tonight. I know you don’t like other challengers on the big-shot nights, but he’s dumb and paid top dollar, so how could we say no?”

“Well, I suppose a warm-up can’t hurt,” Daddy shrugs. He looks over at Trucy, eyes half-lidded, his performance appearance in place since they left home. He nods over to the Hydeout, “You want to watch this one too, or stay up here and work on homework?”

“I’ll come along, Daddy!” Trucy chirps.

“Alright then, right this way, Wrights.” Vanessa bows comically low and leads them to the poker room. They pass by the piano on the way, and Trucy’s backpack is place on top of it. She waves to the staff and they all wave back, most of them smiling at seeing her. Daddy has said they like her more than they like him, and he’s right.

After all the times she’s been down there, Trucy could find her way to the Hydeout in the dark, which she kind of always does every time, considering the dim lighting on the stairs.

“He talked a big game when he showed up earlier today.” Vanessa says to Daddy, and he nods.

“So you’re throwing me a soft ball to start with tonight, huh?”

“Now, you of all people should know better than to assume anything about an opponent before you see them.” Vanessa half-heartedly reprimands.

“But Daddy’s gonna blow him out of the water, huh?” Trucy says and gets a chuckle from Vanessa.

“Yeah, he probably will.”

The dealer stands during the poker games, but Trucy’s extra chair is already down here. Like the other two, it’s a swivel chair, and she hops into it and twirls around a few times.

“I thought I was going up against Phoenix Wright, unbeaten Poker Champion, not some kid.” The man who’s already sitting at the table sniffs, and Daddy finally comes in through the door.

“Sorry, but these days Phoenix Wright’s also a full-time dad, I hope you can pardon my little darling being here.” It’s worded like an apology, but it’s clear that Daddy is absolutely not at all sorry about it. Trucy smiles innocently, like a perfect angel, and the man turns up his nose with a sniff and a ‘hmph’. Ah, so he’s going to be one of those guys.

“Really, letting a kid in here? Your own daughter? Well, ‘darling’, I hope you like watching your dear old dad’s reputation come to an end.” The man brags. Daddy just blinks slowly at the man, unimpressed, while Vanessa rolls her eyes and takes her place at the side of the table. Trucy rolls her chair to be next to Daddy and he ruffles her hair.

“Mr. Allen, Mr. Wright, are you both ready?” Vanessa asks, and the game starts after they both nod.

Trucy mostly keeps her eyes closed. Slipping into her tell-catching ‘mode’ comes so easily at this poker table, but she needs to be on her top form for the real competitor later tonight. She listens as the cards are shuffled, as soothing and familiar as the sound of rain, and then are dealt out. She half-listens to the match as she leans against her daddy. She opens her eyes every-so-often, mostly to see where the chips are standing at the moment. Trucy catches some of Mr. Allen’s tells, big and noticeable movements most of the time that there’s absolutely no way Daddy misses.

It ends with Mr. Allen angrily flipping the table over and spitting vulgarities at Daddy while he cover’s Trucy’s ears, even though they both know she’/ already heard all those words.

“Well he seemed nice,” Daddy jokes and Trucy giggles, “Alright, let’s get some borscht, yeah?”

They spend the next four hours on the piano. Trucy is allowed - encouraged, even - to plunk around on the instrument whenever and however it suits her fancy. A small stack of extra cash grows next to him from people who refuse to listen to her daddy’s terrible music while eating. Trucy gets some homework done, taking up nearly the entire table next to Daddy that they’d used to eat dinner. As Trucy makes her way through worksheet after worksheet, the staff member on the other side of the table cycles through whoever is best at the subject. Math homework is always fun, because it always creates a whole crew of people ignoring the tables they’re supposed to be waiting and the jobs they’re supposed to be doing as they try to solve the equations. Not that Trucy usually needs all that help, but they seem to like to try either way.

You can always tell the moment when the big, important player enters the building. The staff suddenly stand up straight, all eyes on the person, ready to wait on that person like a king. Daddy gets tense, but that kind of tension nobody but Trucy ever seems to notice.

This time, it’s a large woman with a long braid of colored hair. She looks around the club with a sort of honest curiosity that’s hard to come by with people like her, and when she spots Daddy at the piano, the woman smiles and comes right over.

“Oh, Phoenix Wright! Oh my, the legend himself, in the flesh! Well, I thought I’d never be here, but here I am, and there you are! Oh, right at the piano, just like they said you’d be! You can’t play, right? Or is it ‘Wright’? Hehe, do you get it?” The woman chuckles at her own pun. Daddy gives a shrug.

“I hope you didn’t come with too many expectations. Rumors have a way of getting a little out of hand.” Daddy says. Daddy never tells his challengers how true the undefeated poker champion title really is.

“Well, I mean, six years undefeated? It’s a little much to try and sell, huh?” The woman winks at Daddy and laughs again.

“Has it really been six years already. Ah, time, you cruel cruel mistress,” Daddy mourns, playing a chord on the piano. By now Vanessa has come over, and Daddy stands up, slouching with his hands in his hoodie pocket, “Well, Ms. Jackie, shall we get this show on the road?”

“Oh, of course, of course. I mean, I’ll probably stay around and try the food afterwards - do they really only have borscht here? I’ve never had it. Is it any good? What does it taste like? - but I mean, why stall? I’m so excited to see the legendary Wright in action.” Ms. Jackie rambles on as Daddy and Vanessa slowly start to head towards the Hydeout for the second time that night. Ms. Jackie walks right next to Daddy, talking about how she’s from out of state and so very excited when she heard the rumors - undefeated! Six years! How remarkable! How insane! How intriguing! - and now she was here and she was so very very excited.

It isn’t until both Daddy and Ms. Jackie have taken their seats that Ms. Jackie seems to even notice Trucy as she takes her own, the chair already right next to Daddy.

“Oh, and who is this little angel?! Oh my, isn’t she just precious with her little cape!” Ms. Jackie coos to Trucy.

“I’m Trucy Wright. I like watching my daddy play poker. I hope that’s okay.” Trucy tilts her head and smiles sweetly. Ms. Jackie practically melts.

“Ooooh, how sweeeeet! Well, I’m Jackie Blackerly, sweetie.” Jackie reaches across the table and Trucy shakes her hand kindly. She likes Jackie, she decides. But liking the opponent has nothing to do with the poker match itself, unfortunately, and Trucy doesn’t tell Jackie that she’s well out of her league. Maybe Daddy holds the champion title, but they both know that it’s really Trucy who never loses against the high-ranking opponents.

“Is it okay if I sit here? I’m Daddy’s good luck charm, you know.” Trucy tilts her head.

“Oh of course, of course! Oh my, nobody ever mentioned Mr. Wright has such an adorable daughter!”

“Are you both ready to start?” Vanessa asks. The cards are beyond well shuffled by now. Daddy nods, and then just like that, the warm and pleasant emotions disappear from Jackie’s face, like they’ve just been shut off, a blank mask over them.

“I’m ready.”

The cards are dealt, Trucy’s hand wraps around her Daddy’s arm, and just like that, the game, the tells, the truth, everything just slips into focus. She’s done this hundreds of times now, the world almost moving at a crawl to watch the little twitches and microexpressions. The code for telling Daddy what to do, a squeezing of his arm for different amount of times, is simple enough, and basically muscle-memory. Part of Trucy thinks she’d actually struggle a bit to do poker on her own and forget that she’s the one who’s supposed to actually be making the decisions and playing the round, not just delivering the information. She’s played this team version of the game many many more times than she’s ever played it ‘normally’.

Their winning the game is practically inevitable, but to be fair to Jackie, she clearly knows what she’s doing as well. Her tells are subtle, small, and take Trucy a lot of focus to find.

It’s a shame, really. Trucy had been hoping to maybe talk some more with Jackie after the game, but tonight is not going to be one of those. Already, Trucy’s head is pounding like the beating of a drum, feeling drained from the hard work. She curls up in her chair as the results are called, pretending she’s a little girl who is just tired and sleepy instead of someone trying to block out the sound of Jackie congratulating Daddy. Her chattiness, something Trucy had found fun and endearing, is now the last thing Trucy needs. Jackie heads up while Vanessa cleans up the cards and Daddy gently rubs Trucy’s back.

“How you doing, kiddo?” Daddy whispers. Trucy shakes her head. She feels him shift next to her, and then him saying, “Vanessa, think Trucy and I are gonna head out now.”

“Poor kids all tired again, huh?” Vanessa says. With her eyes closed, Trucy can’t see any tells or anything, but sometimes she wonders if Vanessa has caught on to their little trick here, “I’ll finish up here, get the kid back home and in bed.”

“Thank you, Ms. Vanessa.” Trucy says, making an effort to open her eyes up, the dim lighting of the Hydeout not yet searing with the migraine still in its early stages.  Daddy slips his hand into Trucy’s, and together they go back up to the bar.

Trucy makes a token effort to help Daddy get her homework together from where it’s strewn out all over the table. Ms. Jackie comes over and is saying something, a lot of ‘Oh, are you leaving already? Oh my I was just amazed, you were amazing down there! Have you always been a poker player? Now that I’m thinking, you look sort of familiar. Have I seen you somewhere?’ And Daddy says ‘Haha, yeah, gotta get my little Trucy to bed, you know. You clearly know what you’re doing. Nah, but I’ve always been great at bluffing. Must be your imagination, I’m nobody important.’

She sneaks a peak at Daddy at that moment and sees his little tell, looking down with his eyes shielded by his hat, a sort of melancholy smirk marring his face, a little twitch of his fingers. He’s lying. He was somebody important; maybe not in the big grand scheme, maybe not a world-famous magician, but he was important to some people. Trucy wants to say “you’re my Daddy, you’re important to me,” but the pain in her head spikes and she squeezes her eyes shut again.

After a moment, Daddy grabs her hand again, and she keeps her eyes closed as he leads her out of the white and annoying noise of the bar and out onto the street. It’s still warm, even at night, and she realizes she forgot to grab a grape-juice bottle. Daddy seems to notice the same thing, letting go and telling her to wait there as he runs back inside.

He’s back in a second, the cold bottle pressed into Trucy’s hand, and she puts it against her forehead as they walk. It’s beautifully numbing to the pain there, and she zones out, focusing on the feeling as they walk down the street, completely silently this time, back to the office.

Recently, after so much practice, Trucy’s been getting better. She doesn’t always have a migraine after games, especially against the easier players. But Ms. Jackie had been good, and so Trucy is tired again. She wonders if her grandpa would’ve been able to teach her how to do this without getting a headache if he was still alive, he always seemed to understand Trucy’s little trick, but there is no way to know now.

When they get to the office, Trucy goes right to her room. The blinds were already closed earlier, before they left, just in case, and the curtains are closed to further block out any of the last beams of light. Her room is almost pitch-black. Daddy takes the bottle from her and hands her the little rice-filled frog they keep in the freezer, and the froggy friend rests on her forehead. Some medicine and a glass of water is placed in her bedside table, and she makes an effort to take it. It doesn’t always help, but sometimes it does something.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Truce.” Daddy whispers. Trucy cracks her eyes open, and from the light of the open door just barely catches Daddy blowing her a kiss.

She’s happy she’s able to help Daddy. She doesn’t care if she gets a terrible headache from it, because he’ll take care of her until it’s over, and even through the pain, she can’t wait to spend time with him again next month.

[lunatens]

felix felicis (iii)

word count: 3.0k

part iii/iv

genre: fluff, harry potter au

pairing: hufflepuff!felix x ravenclaw!reader

a/n: it’s been uhhhhhhhhhhhhh over a year since i last update this whoOPS i am so sorry to keep you all waiting. thank you to everyone who patiently waited, and to everyone who’s new, i hope you like it!! there will be one more part to this series (that i will try my best to write in less than a year lol) (also for obvious reasons w**jin will no longer be a part of this fic)

the day of the gryffindor vs ravenclaw quidditch match has your stomach in knots, not about the game itself (you really couldn’t care less about the results) but about the boy you’re going to be spending the next couple hours with.

“okay y/n, first things first: that tiny ball is the golden snitch, and-” 

“felix, i’m not stupid,”

“right, yeah, sorry i’m just uhh..excited is all,’ he says shyly. you watch as the two teams whizz around the pitch, trying to keep track of all the different balls and players as felix rambles on about the rules to you. despite chan, changbin and jisung being your closest friends, you’ve never actually come out to watch them play before, always finding an excuse to stay indoors instead of sitting miserable and alone on an uncomfortable bench in typically  less-than-pleasant weather. 

“wow y/n, your friends are actually really, really good quidditch players.” felix comments with a look of mild surprise. “too bad they’re not hufflepuffs!”

“actually, at your last game they were telling me they wish you were in gryffindor, so i guess you’re not too bad yourself,” you comment with a small smile, and you have to stifle a laugh as felix’s face turns bright red. you hate to admit it, but felix is really, really cute--especially bundled up in his yellow hat and scarf, his hair sticking out and gently waving in the breeze whenever someone flies by on broomstick.

you watch the game in silence for a moment, still trying to find the appeal for the sport. the game’s been going for a while now, with neither team having found the snitch yet, although gryffindor’s leading in points. jisung zooms around the far end of the pitch, expertly evading the ravenclaw beaters’ attacks and catching the quaffle with a flourish. it doesn’t take long before he’s put the quaffle through one of the ravenclaw goalposts, and the gryffindor crowd roars in excitement. jisung does a lap of the pitch, posing ridiculously and waving to the crowd to get them even more riled up. you hear felix squeal in excitement beside you, and turn to look at him with curiosity.

“that’s just the best feeling ever, flying through the air and just having fun like that. it’s so freeing,” he says with a contented sigh. you furrow your brows and turn back to look at jisung, who’s now rejoined his team as the game continues.

“really? i mean, it doesn’t seem that great. it looks so cold and windy, and what if you fall? yeah, no thanks i’d rather stick to the ground,” you state. it’s not like you want to offend felix or anything, but you just really don’t get the hype about flying. 

“what?? you don’t like flying y/n?? but it’s so epic!” felix says in disbelief, and you shake your head in response.

“the only time i’ve ever ridden a broomstick is way back in first year, when we had to learn the basics, and i’ve got no interest in trying again.”

“i’ve never met someone so opposed to flying,”

“well, that’s what happens when you fall off and break your wrist and can’t take proper notes for weeks,” you say, wrinkling your nose at the memory. “see unlike you, i’m not gifted with good luck.”

felix looks at you blankly for a moment, thinking to himself, before a wide grin creeps onto his face.

“no.”

“i haven’t even said anything yet!!”

“ok but i know what you’re thinking and i am NOT riding a broomstick, felix!”

“oh come on y/n, live a little!! it’ll be so much fun! what, are you afraid of heights?” felix asks teasingly. you shoot him a glare in response.

“yes!! besides, i don’t even own a broomstick.”

“yeah i kinda figured, so we can just use mine! i’m sure we’ll both fit, it might be a bit squishy though…” felix trails off in his own thoughts, and you choke on your own spit. you turn to look at the pitch, trying to focus on the game rather than thoughts of being pressed up against felix and holding onto him for dear life, breathing in the scent of h-

“eh, i think it’ll work fine. so it’s settled, after the game i’m taking you for a ride.” felix says definitively, interrupting your thoughts (good timing too, your brain was entering dangerous territory). 

“i dunno, felix…. it really doesn’t sound safe, i mean two people on a broomstick? i don’t care how lucky you are, i’m not taking any chances.”

“y/n, i promise nothing bad will happen. we won’t even go that high, and we can take it slow. trust me, it’ll be okay,” felix says, tentatively placing a hand over yours and looking into your eyes. you’re silent for a moment; has felix ever been this sincere in his life? you let out a sigh of defeat.

“i better not regret this.” you mumble, and felix squeals in excitement. your heart flutters a bit when he grabs onto your upper arm enthusiastically

“you won’t, y/n!! it’ll be so much fun, i can’t wait. it’s gonna change your life for the better,” felix says confidently, and although you roll your eyes at him, you can’t help but smile giddily to yourself. 

*** 

the game ends in an overwhelming victory for gryffindor, and you and felix dodge red and gold banners and streamers on your way out of the pitch past ecstatic gryffindors and gloomy ravenclaws. you finally make it out, your stomach filling with dread as you remember what’s happening now.

“i’ll be right back y/n, i’m just gonna go grab my broomstick from the locker room!” felix says excitedly, before rushing off into the depths of the pitch structure. you stand awkwardly by yourself, shoving your hands into your pockets for warmth. your breath escapes your lips in visibles plumes, the air growing colder as the sun begins to sink lower into the sky. one of your professors walks by, reminding you to return to the castle, and you nod, telling them you’re just waiting for a friend. it’s not a complete lie, right? you think to yourself. the adrenaline from not only your upcoming flight, but also breaking the rules again (and for felix, of all people) fills your body with jitters.

as you wait for felix for what seems like forever, your mind starts to wander. watching the game with him today was...surprisingly fun? and my goodness, the way his eyes sparkled or his voice got squeaky when someone made an awesome play was maybe the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. not to mention his freckled cheeks, rosy from the biting cold, or his tiny hands that flailed excitedly when talking about strategies. was chan right after all? do you have feelings for felix? no, that’s absurd. you’re just excited to have made a new friend is all...haha...right?

you don’t get the chance to think more about it before someone pounces on you from behind.

“Y/N!!! YOU CAME!!!!” jisung’s loud voice rings in your ear.

“ew get off me, you’re all sweaty,” you say with a grimace as you shove the excited boy off your shoulders. “but good job guys, you did great! who knew you were actually good at quidditch huh,” you tease, and chan gives you a playful nudge.

“i saw you with a certain hufflepuff boy in the stands,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows, and you slap him on the arm.

“ok he practically forced me to go, it was the only way to stop his stupid begging and whining,” you argue, and your three gryffindor friends nod their heads in clear disbelief. 

“sure y/n, keep telling yourself that.” chan says, giving you a pat on the head which you swat away. 

“sorry that took so long, i-” felix’s out-of-breath voice stops mid sentence when he spies you with the other boys. “oh uh, hi,” he says shyly, clearly not expecting their presence. your friends grin knowingly and changbin and jisung start to whisper to each other. chan puts on a friendly smile and greets felix back, reaching out to shake his hand.

“thanks for coming out even though your house wasn’t playing,” he says, and felix seems to warm up to chan a bit. 

“i’d never turn down a chance to watch a good quidditch match! you guys are amazing,” he babbles, and you giggle at his enthusiasm, glad to see him and chan connecting. 

“you’re not so bad yourself dude. too bad we’ll have to crush you in a few weeks,” chan teases, and all the boys laugh.

“i’m impressed you were able to drag this one out, we’ve been trying to get them to come to our games for years,” changbin groans, gesturing to you. felix shrugs in response.

“i mean it wasn’t too hard, just a small bribe of some chocolate frogs and here we are,” felix says, and you feel three pairs of eyes burning into your soul. you can practically feel the smirks on their faces, and you can already hear the teasing you’ll experience later. 

“well anyways, we’re gonna hit up the great hall for some snacks on our way back, you coming? you’re welcome to join us, felix,” jisung invites.

“um actually...felixistakingmeforarideonhisbroomstick,” you splutter out, and you hear jisung make a strange noise of disbelief at what he just heard.

“sorry, what?” chan asks, and the grin on his face tells you he knows exactly what you just said. you let out an annoyed huff and repeat yourself.

“felix is taking me for a ride on his broomstick, and we better get going before it gets too late.” you say in defeat and embarrassment, reaching to grab a confused felix’s hand so you can get away from your friends before they have the chance to say anything about it. jisung opens his mouth to make what you assume is a raunchy joke about riding broomsticks, but a death glare from you shuts him up.

“okay, have fun! but not too much fun,” chan says with a wink before quickly ushering a protesting jisung and changbin back towards the castle. you’re grateful for the falling darkness, because you can feel how bright your cheeks are burning right now. 

“i’m so sorry about them,” you apologize, and felix laughs it off.

“they seem fun,” he says, then tugs on your hand gently. “follow me, i know the best place to go where we won’t get caught. trust me, i sneak out all the time with hyunjin and minho and we’ve never seen a soul.” you nod nervously as you follow felix’s lead, praying that you won’t regret this.

after a bit of walking and some light conversation, you arrive at a small clearing near the edge of the lake. 

“this is SO against the rules,” you mutter to yourself as you step over some large roots. felix gets to a spot where the sky above is clear (and growing darker by the minute), and there’s lots of room around you. he straddles the broomstick and motions for you to join him. as you make your way behind him, you can’t help but wonder if you're more nervous about flying or about the prolonged close contact with felix. there are so many layers of clothing between us, you tell yourself, it’s fine. you place your arms loosely around felix’s waist, nervous to get any closer.

“we’re gonna start off just hovering, okay? we’ll take it slow, it’ll be alright. you can tell me if you want to stop, but i really think it’ll be fine, trust me,” he says to comfort you, and you nod. felix kicks off the ground, and you gasp as you feel your feet dangling in the air. instinctively, your arms squeeze tightly around felix, and you press yourself as close to him as possible.

“i can feel your heart racing, it’s okay just relax!” felix says with a laugh.

“easy for you to say, you practically live on a broomstick,” you grumble, and you feel felix’s body shake with giggles underneath you.

“i’m gonna take us a bit higher now,” felix says, and you press your face into his back as you feel yourselves rise higher, the air getting colder as you ascend. you feel a gentle breeze tangling your locks, and the broomstick begins to inch forward. you open one eye slightly and let out a small squeak as you see how far the ground is below you. you’re almost above the height of the trees now, and felix is doing slow laps of the clearing. 

“see, it’s not too bad, right?” he asks, and you force yourself to open your eyes again. if you don’t look straight down, you have to admit the view is really nice. trees and rolling hills pepper the landscape, and you can see the quidditch pitch and hogwarts a bit farther in the distance. the last rays of sun are reflecting off of the lake, and the twilight sky is beginning to sparkle with the night’s brightest stars. 

“yeah, i guess it is pretty nice,” you begrudgingly agree. your knuckles are white as you hold on to felix for dear life, but the more time you spend up here the more you realize how stable he’s keeping the broomstick, and how much he does seem to be taking caution to make sure you’re comfortable. you let out a shaky sigh as you try to relax and take in the scenery as you hover above the trees. 

“there’s one more thing we can do, if you’re okay with it,” he says, asking for your trust. you say nothing, simply nodding into his back; you’re afraid if you open your mouth you’ll regret it. as soon as he has your confirmation, the broomstick suddenly bursts forward and you can’t help but let out a piercing shriek.

“FELIX!!! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!!” you manage to yell over the howling wind. your eyes are tearing up from the cold night air, and your throat feels dry, and you’re convinced your heart’s stopped beating. felix just lets out a joyful laugh in response, yelling back to you “SHOWING YOU THE BEST THING ABOUT FLYING!” before plunging the nose of the stick into a dive towards the ground. he pulls up, of course, and does a few more fancy tricks before slowing down to a more leisurely pace above the treetops. 

you sit there in shock for a moment, wide eyed and breathless, trying to take in the wild turn of events.

“WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!! YOU IDIOT WE COULD’VE DIED OR SOMETHING,” you scream in between breaths, still trying to get your heart to stop racing. 

“but we didn’t, right? i told you you could trust me!! was that not fun??” he asks, giddy with adrenaline. you choose not to respond, because he’s right--as much as his sudden moves scared the living daylights out of you, you have to admit it felt pretty freeing. 

“this is my favourite view,” felix says to change the topic, and you lift your head up to look around. you’re coasting above the lake, the last rays of sun painting the landscape golden. more stars are out now, and the glow of the castle feels truly magical and welcoming. you steal a glance at felix, cheeks nose and ears bright red from the cold but an awestruck look on his face nonetheless. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so peaceful and content, and the feeling spreads to you as you finally relax your grip a little and rest your cheek on felix’s back. 

“thank you, felix,” you mumble, feeling surprisingly at ease now. 

“sorry, what was that?” he asks and you can hear the grin in his voice.

“i’m not saying it again,” you warn, and he remains silent. part of you wishes you could live in this moment forever, gliding over the mirror-like surface of the water with the warmth of felix to stave away the cold tendrils of night air.

“we should uh, head back. it’s getting pretty late,” he eventually says after a comfortable silence passes. you nod in agreement, and felix takes you back to the quidditch pitch, where he returns his broomstick quickly before coming back to walk with you to the castle. the walk back is mostly silent, with the two of you hiding from professors and prefects a couple times but making it back to the ravenclaw common room unseen. there seems to be some shift in the energy between you now, the silences feeling a bit more awkward than before, but neither of you wants to acknowledge it. 

“well, uh, thanks for trusting me. and sorry if i scared you,” felix says with a small laugh as you reach to door to the common room. 

“it’s okay, i uh...i actually had a really good time. you’re right, you know, it is a really wonderful feeling being up there.” you admit. you have to stop yourself from adding “with you” to the end of that sentence. “so thank you for everything, lix,” you say and you cringe at the nickname that accidentally escaped your lips. felix tries to hold back a smile but fails miserably, blushing at the nickname. 

“goodnight, y/n,” he says after clearing his throat.

“um..goodnight,” you say before going to answer the riddle to enter the common room. as you mutter the answer and begin to enter, you hear felix call after you.

“y/n?”

“yeah?”

there’s a long pause.

“uh, nevermind. goodnight!” he says, and before you know it he’s down the stairs and out of sight. confused, you creep up to your dormitory to get ready for bed. your dreams that night are filled with the wind rushing through your hair, beautiful landscapes whizzing past you, and most importantly of all, felix’s joyful laugh ringing in your ears.

[iisuya-simps]

Coffee shop au (Doppo x Reader)

A/N: decided to do a little scenario for the birthday boy Doppo! Hope yall enjoy :)

Word count: 1798

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You were a literature student at university. Every morning you see this man come into the coffee shop around 8 o clock. 'Poor thing, always looks so tired and rundown.'

One morning was particularly busy. You overheard his order from one of his many visits and decided to pay for it. He comes in an hour later frantically looking around, wondering if he should leave the line. One of the employees waves him down and gives him his order. That lady over there paid for your coffee. He looks completely baffled and turns to see you waving. He thanks the barista and walks to your table.

"Hi um, thanks for paying for my coffee miss." He scratches the back of his head nervously. "No problem. My name is Y/N by the way." You extend your hand to shake his. "Oh! I'm Doppo." "It was busy today and I figured you always look so busy." His eyes widened. "You can tell from just that huh?" You nod. "Well, it's true I don't have much time to myself outside of work..."

"What do you do? Oh, I'm a salaryman." "Ah, I see. Must be pretty tiresome work." "It would be alright if my boss didn't give me so much to do." His fists clenched. "Oh, I'm sorry for rambling." "It's alright." "I actually have to get going. I can already feel my work piling up." He shoots you a bemused grin.

"It was nice talking to you." "Would you have time to chat over coffee on the weekend? Seems like you have a lot more to say." "Maybe! Uh, I'll be back tomorrow." "Alright, see you." He waves and scurries out of the cafe. "What an odd guy. I hope he's not overdoing himself too hard..." You continue your writing.

The next day Doppo joins you for coffee. "So Mr. salaryman, how goes life?" You sit down at the same table you were at yesterday. "Oh uh, I'm kind of always on the go." "Do you have any hobbies?" "Well, I do have a few houseplants. I keep a bunch of cute little succulents around my place like a salad bowl, giant velvet rose, it's actually just a small one, and a tiny cactus-" He stops there because he feels the conversation dragging.

"What about friends?" "Hifumi has been my friend since elementary school. Despite everything, I'm glad he's still around." "That's nice to hear." You smile. "Oh! I've been so busy talking about myself I never asked about you." " Well, there's not much to know." "Nonsense, what do you do? I saw you with your laptop yesterday." "I'm a literature student at ___ University." "So you're a writer? That's pretty interesting."

Over the next few months, you became fast friends. Doppo would join you in the morning for coffee and a small chat then dash to work.

(Insert clever transition here)

"Doppooo." You call out to him and wave your hand in front of his face. "Doppo?" He snaps back into reality. "Hmm? What is it y/n?" "Are you alright?" "I'm f-fine. Why do you ask?" You shake your head. "It's ok to have a break every now and then y'know. You've been spacing out all day." "Yeah, sorry y/n. I guess I just have a lot on my mind." "Why don't we do something?"

"Would you like to go out? Hang out I mean! Somewhere else! Anywhere! You can choose!" "Hmm, I think a walk would do us both some good." "Uh yeah s-sure." Doppo sweats a little.

"Hey uh y/n, I'm not a very athletic person as you can probably tell..." "That's alright, It doesn't have to be a long one. Why don't we just walk down to the park at our own pace?" "Oh, o-ok sure."

Leaving the cafe you walk about 15 minutes to the nearest park and sit down on a nearby bench. You turn to face him. "I'm worried about you Doppo. Are you taking care of yourself?" "I'm just hanging on like I always do..." He gives a nervous chuckle. "You didn't answer my question." He hangs his head and sighs. "What's the point?" "The point is your wellbeing Doppo. Here." You pat your lap. "Just take a little rest. "N-no I shouldn't-" "I don't mind." Hesitantly he lays down on the bench and rests his head on your lap, blushing.

It didn't take long for him to immediately fall asleep on your lap. You laugh to yourself. 'He looks so peaceful like this, just like a cute little man child.' You carefully stroke his hair making sure not to wake him up. A small blush forming on your cheeks.

After a while, he awakes and rolls over. His sleepy teal-blue eyes meeting yours.

"Y-y/n!" He sits up abruptly, a bright red blush flooding his cheeks. "I-I'm so sorry! How long was I asleep?" "Not long, you could have napped longer if you wanted to. It looks like you needed the sleep." "Erm, yeah. thank you." His cheeks still burning red. "You can lay back down if you want. You still have a few hours before you have to go to work right?" He considers, thinking how comfortable your thighs were cradling his head. "I-I don't want to be a bother..." "Just lay on my shoulder then. We can both take a nap." "Okay."

Doppo leans on your shoulder and closes his eyes hoping that you didn't notice his quickening heartbeat. Resting your head on his crimson locks you close your eyes and fall asleep into a short slumber together.

t-t-t-transition---------

"What would you like to eat?" "Anything, I'm starving." You giggle. "I was going to make some omurice~" He visibly perks up. "I'd like that very much." "Omurice it is! Topped with some cilantro." You lick your lips. "U-um. No cilantro for me thank you..." he winced trying not to gag.

"Oh no, you have the cilantro hating gene, don't you?" "Yeah, it kinda tastes like soap." You dramatically toss your hand to your forehead. "That's so tragic. I wish your taste buds could appreciate the fresh springy sprigs that are cilantro. But alas! I'll just top it off with chives."

"Y-you can have cilantro! It's not a problem if you want to!" "I don't want to make you sick with the aroma." "I'll be fine as long as I don't eat it! Really!!" "Ok ok. I'll do both." "Do you want some help? Omurice is one of the only things I can make..." his head hangs a little. "Sure! I could always use some help chopping some veggies."

You were coming over to Doppos place every weekend now to make sure he was eating well and getting enough sleep.

After prepping the vegetables and cooking the rice, you dice up some chicken and mix in the vegetables and spices, also adding some ketchup. Then whisking an egg with a little milk you cook the omelette and add the chicken, veggies and rice. Folding the egg over you make a little ketchup smiley face with dimples on the side of his plate and top it off with some chives. Then do the same with yours.

"Here you go!" Doppo's eyes light up when you hand him the plate. "Waaaah, it looks so professional! Let's dig in!" You watch as he smiles while eating, savouring every bite. "Oh y/n this is so good." "Thank yourself, you helped make it too." You smile. "Yes but mine never tastes this good. It must be something you did!" "You'd be surprised what difference a little salt and pepper can make."

You both watched a show while eating, Doppo went back for seconds.

"Thank you for the delicious meal y/n. You've been doing a lot for me, I appreciate it." "Of course! I'll always try and be there for you when you need me." "Would you really?" Doppo's palms get sweaty as he turns to you with his head down. "Would it be so wrong to think that there's something between us? I-I know I'm a pessimist and an overall mess. You basically take care of me like I'm your kid- Oh, who am I kidding you don't want me... I'm a ball of anxiety and-" you put a finger to his lips and he blushes immediately.

"I like you too, Doppo." You smile. "Y-you do?" He sighs visibly relaxing. "I thought I really blew it there... but I'm glad you feel the same." You place your hand over his. "I care about you Doppo."

After a few more shows and an awkward silent stroll, Doppo walks you back over to your place and says goodnight.

"Thanks for everything y/n." Knowing he wouldn't be the one to make the first move (in this case anyway) you lean over and kiss him on the cheek. He looked so cute with his flustered expression and blushed cheeks. "Night Doppo."

When you lay down on your bed for the night your heart races and butterflies dance in your stomach. Then your phone pings from your nightstand.

"I had a really great time today! Not like I don't any other time! But today was special! The texts came flooding in one after the other. You beam and reply "Yes today was fun. Now please get some sleep. You need it." "I'll try!"

Epilogue I guess---------

Even though you move in with Doppo quite quickly it turns out to be the best thing for the both of you. He does his best to look out for you and you look out for him.

In the morning you both wake up, he boils water for coffee and you make breakfast. You'll still visit the coffee shop every now and then, but there's nothing quite like having breakfast in bed with your partner.

You always call him during lunch and inbetween to make sure he doesn't forget to eat. When he comes home he'll help you with meal prep if he's not too exhausted. Then you'll eat dinner in front of the tv and watch a show.

After dinner, you both wash and dry the dishes then sit down on the couch and cuddle. On a good day, you watch a few episodes of your favorite show together. But on an exhausting day, Doppo falls asleep within the first 10 minutes. But you don't mind. You simply flip the station and admire his sweet peaceful face as he lays his head on your shoulder.

If it's late you wake him up with head pats and guide him to bed in a half-asleep stupor joining him soon. When you're in bed he always has one arm around you. Usually, your back to his front or the both of you facing each other in an embrace until you wake and the cycle begins anew.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading!

[venii-vidii-vicii]

Good morning to these fuckers who live in my head rent free

Woke up feeling like I want to gush about them which I always do on twitter. I think I tortured my twitter enough so I'm sorry, Tumblr. It's your turn.

First of all, look at them. They're dumb fuckin himbos. Ugh my heart 😔

Second, I think a lot of people forget that you play as a cop, representing a force that has left Martinaise to die. Was I ever mad they were assholes to me? No because fuck cops. They deserve it. Yes, including Harry and Kim.

Third... They're just losers, okay? They're all a bunch of stupid losers trying to make a name for themselves. Titus obv is an overachiever not only because it makes him look cool but probably because that's how he measures his self worth

Imposter syndrome, am I right, fellas?

He's gotta be like that to lead them, his words not mine.

And all this fragile ego, huh? Man, toxic masculinity sure is a bitch.

Being gay? Nah bro. Too manly for that, said Glen, as if dominating another dude isn't the ultimate fucking power move. But God had to nerf Glen somehow. I mean, who wants a freaking chaotic gay feral gremlin walking around stealing men? (Me. I do. Glen, please call me)

But you know who's alright with LGBTQs? Also the Hardie Boys. Yes, folks! If the Hardies are the law in Martinaise and Titus Hardie himself said gay is okay then bitch you better believe it!

You guys want a bunch of burly dudes to punch this homophobe for you? Say no more. Call the Hardie Boys today to bully your homophobic bully!

There are 7 colors in a rainbow and you got 7 Hardie Boys. That's all I'm saying 😏😌 🌈

Also when their head isn't in their ass and they're actually sober, they care about their home more than anyone else. They didn't just stand by and let their home die slowly. They did something about it! No cops? No problem. The Hardie boys are for the people and by the people.

And they got the power of TOGETHERNESS! Friendship is magic! You talk shit about one of them? Get rekt by the other 6. I love my therapy support group where we don't actually talk about our problems because we're too macho manly for problems, but everyone is super supportive 💜💜

Has it already been (almost) 2 years of me SIMPING for them? Woah. Where's my Hardie badge? (I mean I have a Hardie boys jacket but a badge would be cool)

Sometimes my cat loves to sleep on it

And I'm hoping one day I can afford to have all their displates but for now I only have a shrine dedicated to Glen and Titus, may their bromance live on

Wait....

What was I talking about?

Oh yeah! The boys.

I love them 💜 they're great and they represent a lot of issues I would have loved to see be talked about more often in media. But THATS WHY IM HERE! Yours truly. Yep. Talking about a bunch of himbos doing their best.

Are they assholes? For sure, man.

Are they misogynistic? Uh... Yeah.

But toxic masculinity be like that. This is how we were raised to be because our self worth is measured by how many chicks we sleep with and how successful we are and then society normalized this even more by saying it's just "boys being boys"

You think IDLES would be out here with songs like Samaritans if we didn't have a problem with toxic masculinity? (Great song btw. One of my favorite songs for Glen)

Media made being gay seem like it's all about being feminine men who wanna dress in drag and put make up on, of COURSE Glen would be like "I'm not gay cuz I'm not girly. Ew wtf?" instead of media normalizing that gays are, surprise, just regular people.

WE NEED GAY ATHLETE REP, GLEN. YOU'RE SO VALID.

To be honest, sports are pretty gay anyway. Rugby?? Really, Glen? A game where you smash bodies with other burly dudes? And fight over balls? Idk man sounds pretty gay.

TLDR; yeah those guys are far from perfect but I fell in love with them for their imperfections. It's what made me relate to them. They're just trying to live their best life, helping people... But who helps them with their demons? 😔

They need therapy like every other characters in this damn game. I will simp for them till the day I die!

Enough of my ramblings though. Sorry, Tumblr. Had to do it to you. 😌