#I don’t need heads up about this person unless I get weird messages when they inevitably unblock me to start shit. Again.

[eclipsecrowned]

you ever just marvel that you’re living rent free slamming doors in the head of sb you haven’t thought of in months.

[all-the-things-2020]

Late Night Talking - Chapter Eight

Summary: Em had a rough day at work. Dieter makes her feel better.

Rating: PG-13 (nothing graphic, Em is still shy about writing explicit details about her relationship, lol)

Word Count: 4800+

Tag list: @rhoorl @avastrasposts @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @gwendibleywrites

Dieter insisted on driving himself home after the accident. He called me when he got there, complaining about what a pain in the ass the drive had been. The butt jokes continued throughout the week, accompanied by a few photos of the stitches to prove that he was healing up. 

“Dieter, I have enough pictures of your ass,” I told him on Thursday. “Besides, I’m going to see it in person tomorrow night.”

”You can never have enough pictures of my ass,” he replied. “Which, by the way, is looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

Friday morning I put my overnight bag into the trunk of my car. I was going to drive straight from work to Dieter’s place, since I would be back tracking if I went home first. Fridays are always long, but that one felt like an eternity. We were busy, but the beginning of school rush was starting to die down and I had pockets of downtime when my mind was able to wander. And it wandered toward Dieter.

Traffic was horrendous, of course, but I managed to get to Dieter’s house after only a two hour drive. He greeted me at the door wearing a pair of baggy pajama pants and an old Pac Sun t shirt. He was barefoot.

”Nice look,” I said as he wrapped me in his arms.

”I’m an invalid,” he said. “These are my sick clothes.”

”You’ve been to four meetings and a doctor’s appointment this week. You aren’t an invalid.”

He pouted. “But my butt hurts, baby.”

I tried to keep a straight face but it was impossible. Pouting Dieter always makes me laugh. 

We spent a quiet weekend, watching movies and making out on the couch. Dieter couldn’t go in the pool because of the stitches, which made him a bit grumpy, but otherwise it was the romantic weekend we’d attempted to have the previous week.

”I’m out of town all next week,” he said Sunday morning as we lazed in bed.

”Yeah, I know.” I laid my head on his broad chest and he stroked my hair. 

“Won’t be back in L.A. until Saturday night, so I guess we won’t see each other next weekend.” His hand played with my earlobe.

”It’s okay,” I said. “We’ll FaceTime.”

”Not the same,” he said, nibbling on my neck.

I sighed. “No, it’s not, but we’ll see each other the weekend after. You’re driving out, right?”

”If I can,” he said. “No, yeah, definitely. I’ve got a bunch of meetings and shit for the press tour that week but I will make sure I get out there on Friday. Play the entitlement card. ‘I’m Dieter Fucking Bravo. I make my own rules.’”

”Just don’t piss off anybody important,” I said. “I understand if your work messes with our plans. Work has to come first unless it’s an emergency. That’s what my parents always said.”

”Fuck that,” Dieter said vehemently. “People come first. Relationships come first. Work … work is important, but it’s not everything.”

”Okay,” I said carefully. I’d touched a nerve and didn’t want to probe it too much right then. “But I do understand that you have to do stuff for work. So do I.”

He mumbled something I didn’t catch and then distracted me by sliding one hand between my legs while he kissed my collarbone and I stopped thinking rationally for a while.

**************************************************************

[Text message conversation between Dieter and his publicist]

CARMEN: So, I need to know something.

DIETER: What?

C: There’s a weird rumor floating around and I need the truth.

D: Shit, now what?

C: I’ve heard two versions. One is you were injured “in bed” and needed stitches in your backside. The other is you had a fight with your girlfriend, broke some glass and she pushed you onto it, also requiring stitches.

D: Fuck. I did get hurt at Em’s but it wasn’t in bed and we didn’t have a fight. I fell off the fucking bed trying to reach the smoke alarm to change the battery and I broke a lamp. I landed on it and cut my ass cheek. That doctor promised he wouldn’t say anything to anybody.

C: I don’t think it was the doc. This isn’t coming from the public gossip sites; it’s word of mouth rumors in the industry.

D: Probably someone at my agent’s office. I was telling him the story because I had to reschedule a meeting so I could go get the stitches out. So what do we have to do?

C: Nothing. If either rumor breaks containment, we put out a statement clearing things up. Tell what really happened. If not, we ignore it.

D: Does Em know?

C: I haven’t said anything to her. Figured that’s your job.

***************************************************************

“People are saying what?” I was driving home from work when Dieter called and almost swerved off the road.

”One version is you were pegging me and ripped my butthole,” he said. “The other is we had a big fight, I broke some glass, then you pushed me down on it.”

”But … who would believe any of that?”

”Dumbass people,” he said with a sigh. “The shitheads at the gossip websites who would say anything for clicks. Look, I know this is ridiculous, but Carmen has it under control. If anything makes the mainstream, she’ll issue a statement.”

”Holy shit, what if my aunt hears any of this?” My mother’s sister was one of those stick-up-her-bum church lady types, mostly because she’d converted in her early twenties. Converts were the worst. I loved her dearly, but we did not see eye to eye on most aspects of my personal life. She’d already made it very clear to me that she thought I was sinning by engaging in premarital sex.

”It won’t get that far,” Dieter said. “I’ll tell Carmen to get out ahead of it. Get a statement out to the gossip rags. Let them know we’ll sue if they say anything that contradicts it.”

I was almost home. “Deet, how the hell do you live like this?”

”Everyone has rumors told about them,” he said. “I’ll bet your co-workers talk shit about you.”

I had to admit he was probably right. It wasn’t just students who were stuck in the high school paradigm. Any time you trapped a group of people in one place for hours and hours each day, they did what humans had been doing for millennia: they talked. The rumor mill was alive and well on campus, although as adults we were more circumspect than the kids were. 

“I still don’t like it,” I said, pulling up in front of my condo. 

”Nobody likes it, babe,” he said. “It’s one of the prices you pay for fame. And big paychecks.” He sighed. “I need to get back on set. I’ll see you next weekend.”

”See you then,” I said. I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying “I love you.” It was a little bit silly, but I had vowed that I wouldn’t say it until Dieter did. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself.

******************************************************************

It had been a shitty day. We’d gotten a delivery of over two hundred boxes of math textbooks. Each box held six books and we needed to get them all unpacked, stamped, barcoded and out to students ASAP. The books had been ordered on time and should have arrived in the summer when there had actually been time to process them, but the publisher had screwed up on the first print run and they ended up backordered. I’d been unpacking boxes and stacking books on carts all day and my back was killing me. This work was usually done by volunteers and kids needing community service hours for graduation, but with the kids all in class, it fell to me and the textbook clerk, along with a couple of helpers loaned to us from the front office. All I wanted to do when I got home was take a hot shower, pop a handful of ibuprofen and crash on the couch with my shiatsu massager.

Things weren’t going to be easy until we got the job done, but at least I didn’t have to drive to Hollywood that weekend; it was Dieter’s turn to drive out to my place. I kept telling myself, You just have to make it through two more days.

As I pulled into the driveway, I noticed two things. First of all, Dieter’s bright red Audi was parked in front of my condo. Second of all, Dieter himself was sitting on my front step, reading a book and drinking what looked like a tall glass of my neighbor Mrs. Gutiérrez’s iced tea.

I climbed out of the car. “What are you doing here?”

“My meeting tomorrow got cancelled and I’m free for the rest of the week, so I thought I’d come out early, since I didn’t get to see you last weekend,” he said, setting down his book and glass. He stood up to hug me but I cringed when he did. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, we had a billion books to unpack today and my back is killing me,” I told him. “You should have called me before you drove all this way. I’m not going to be very good company.”

“I wanted to surprise you,” he said. “Of course, I was halfway here when I realized I was going to get here way before you got home.” He scratched at the back of his ball cap. “Your neighbor was worried about me. She brought me some iced tea so I wouldn’t get too hot.” 

I looked next door and saw Mrs. Gutiérrez peeking out her front window. I waved at her and she gave me a thumbs up. “I need to get you a key,” I said without thinking. Even though we spent the weekend at each other’s homes, we hadn’t exchanged keys yet. It was the next step in our relationship and here I’d jumped into it without discussing it with him.

He smiled. “That would be nice,” he said softly. “We can get a copy of my keys for you while we’re at it.”

I felt my face flush. We’d been dating for almost three months at that point, and I knew he was in it for the long haul, but I still felt a little giddy every time we took a step toward more intimacy, more permanency. And those three little words still loomed unsaid.

“Let’s get inside,” I said. I fumbled with my keys and dropped them. As soon as I started to bend down to pick them up, I knew I’d made a mistake. “Ugh,” I groaned. “Can … can you get those for me?”

He reached down and swept the keys up, his free hand going immediately to my back. He rubbed it as he put the key in the lock. “You really did a number on your back, didn’t you, babe?,” he said, frowning. 

“Yeah,” I admitted. He took my bag from me and ushered me carefully into the house. “Look, all I want to do is eat something, take a mega dose of ibuprofen, and collapse on the couch with my back massager. You don’t have to stay. It’s not like I’m going to be much fun.”

He looked at me as if I was an idiot. “First of all, I’m not driving all the way back to Hollywood just to turn around and drive back the day after tomorrow,” he said. He pushed me gently down onto the couch and sat beside me. “Second of all, I’m not leaving you alone if you’re in pain. And third of all, I’m here to see you, not have fun.”

I raised my eyebrow and he immediately shook his head. “That didn’t come out quite right, but you know what I mean,” he said, sliding his arm around my shoulder and playing with my hair. “Let me take care of you, okay?” He pressed a kiss against my cheek and I relented, laying my head on his shoulder. 

“Okay, but there’s not much you can do except keep me company,” I said.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he said. “I know about back pain, believe me.”

After making me promise not to move a muscle, he left me on the couch to flip through the channels looking for something to watch (I didn’t have all the streaming services he did, just basic cable, which drove him nuts) while he heated up some leftover pasta I had in my fridge. We ate on the couch, watching reruns of “M*A*S*H”. 

When we were finished, I tried to help him take the dirty plates into the kitchen but my back had stiffened up enough that I only got about two inches off the couch before I froze. “Oh, oh, ouch, ouch,” I whimpered. Dieter pushed me gently back down.

“I got it,” he said, kissing me on the forehead. He took the dishes into the kitchen and detoured to the bathroom to fetch the bottle of ibuprofen. “I didn’t know it came in such big bottles,” he said when he came back. 

“Costco,” I said. “And if you were a woman, you’d buy the industrial size bottle, too.” I opened the top, shook out four pills and popped them in my mouth. “I live on this  stuff one week a month.”

“Okay, time to get you in the shower,” Dieter said. “Some hot water will loosen those muscles a bit.”

He helped me stand up and I headed — slowly — toward the bathroom. “Let me know if you need any help, okay?,” he said.

“I’m fine,” I said, brushing him off. “I’ve been taking showers for years.” 

I closed the door on him, and turned on the water to give it a chance to heat up before I got in. The moment I stepped into the shower and the hot water hit my back, I let out a little moan. Standing up hurt but the hot water felt incredibly good. I stood with my back to the showerhead, letting the water hit my lower back. I slowly bent forward, gently stretching the muscles as the heat loosened them up a bit.

I’d been in there for about fifteen minutes when there was a knock on the bathroom door. “How’re you doing in there?”

“I’m fine,” I called out. “Just enjoying the hot water.” The door opened and Dieter stepped in. “What are you doing?” My instinct was to cover myself but all I had handy was a washcloth, which wasn’t going to do much good.

“Oh, please,” he scoffed. “I just wanted to ask if you have any massage oils.”

“Um, no,” I said. We had the shower curtain between us, but it was fairly sheer and it felt very awkward, especially since Dieter was making no effort to avert his eyes.

“Hmm, okay, I’ll see what you have in the kitchen,” he said, turned around and left. I stayed in the shower a few more minutes, then turned the water off, got out, and wrapped myself in a towel.

The door opened again and Dieter whisked me into the bedroom. The bed was turned down and the new lamp on the nightstand was on its lowest setting. Relaxing music was playing on the speaker on my dresser. “Um, sweetie,” I said, “I told you I wasn’t up for much.”

He shook his head. “I know,” he said. “I’m going to give you a massage.” He gestured toward the bed. “Take off that towel and lay face down with your head on the pillows.”

“You just want to look at my ass,” I joked as I followed his directions.

He smacked me lightly on the butt.  “Behave yourself,” he said, climbing onto the bed behind me. He straddled my legs and started lightly prodding my back. “Where does it hurt? Here? Here?” Once he had a good idea of the extent of the affected area, he got up. “Okay, all I could find was olive oil, so if you smell like a salad when we’re done, I’m sorry.” I heard him pour some oil out and rub his hands together to warm it up. 

The bed dipped under his weight again as he resumed his position. His broad hands began to stroke up and down my lower back, his thumbs digging in now and then to work out the tension in the muscles. The oil let his hands glide over my skin and it felt absolutely delicious. “Oh, yeah,” I groaned. “That feels amazing.”

He chuckled. “I like to hear that,” he said. I felt his weight shift as he leaned forward to kiss my shoulder. Then he sat back and continued working on my sore muscles. Soon I was melting into the mattress and I barely noticed when Dieter climbed off the bed, pressing one last kiss to my shoulder. “Get some sleep, babe,” he said softly.

The next thing I knew, my alarm was going off the next morning. Dieter grunted beside me. “What the hell?”

I slapped the alarm clock to stop the annoying beep. “Go back to sleep,” I told him. “I need to get ready for work.” I started to crawl out of bed but he pulled me back. 

“Call in sick,” he said. “Stay with me.”

“I can’t,” I said, although I was very tempted. My back felt a lot better but it was still a bit stiff. “We have a shit ton of work to do and if I don’t go in, they won’t get a sub to cover for me.” I kissed his forehead and went into the bathroom to start getting ready for work.

Dieter was sound asleep by the time I came out, and I got dressed to the sound of his quiet snores. Before I left, I scribbled a note, which I left on the kitchen table beside my house keys.

“Thanks again for last night. I feel so much better! Leaving my keys so you can go out if you need to, lol. See you when I get home. XOXOXO”

I locked the door from the inside, pulled it shut and headed off for another long day at work.

**********************************

Work was better than the day before, partly because we’d finished most of the heavy lifting already, but mostly because I knew Dieter would be waiting for me at home when I got done. My co-workers made a few comments about what a good mood I seemed to be in, but I didn’t take the bait. It was enough to know he’d be there when I came home; I didn’t need to brag about it.

It felt weird to knock on my own front door when I got home. Dieter opened it a tiny crack. “What’s the password?,” he said, squinting warily at me. 

“Open the damn door,” I said.

“Correct,” he said, opening the door and letting me in. He led me to the couch, where there was a glass of wine waiting for me. As I sat down, he slipped my shoes off and pulled my feet into his lap, massaging them gently. 

“Oh, my,” I said. “What did I do to deserve this treatment?” 

He shrugged. “I just thought you’d probably had a rough day at work again, and I enjoyed taking care of you yesterday.” He dropped my feet and pulled me in for a kiss. “Besides, it was kind of nice playing house husband today.” He winked at me and got up from the couch.

“I changed the sheets on the bed, ran a few errands, and I’m actually cooking dinner,” he said. He came back with a set of keys in his hand. “Here are your house keys back,” he said, dangling them in front of me, “and I added a set to my place.” He dropped the keys into my hand. Two brand new keys were next to my slightly worn ones. I fingered them gently.

“I got copies of yours for me,” he said. “Hope you don’t mind, but you did say I needed them …”

“No, no, thank you,” I said. So it was official. We had full access to each other's homes. I felt a weird fluttery feeling in my stomach and I grabbed his hand, pulling in in to press a kiss to his palm. 

He dropped back onto the couch beside me, humming happily. He caressed my face before leaning in for a lingering kiss. “As much as I enjoy this,” he said when he came up for air, “I need to check on dinner.” He stood up and headed for the kitchen. I picked up my wine glass and followed him. This I had to see.

He was opening the oven to check on whatever was inside, and I caught a glimpse of a plastic tray. “Aha!” I said. “You bought that.”

“Well, yeah,” he said. “I said I was cooking dinner, not that I made dinner. There’s a semantic difference.” He poured himself a glass of wine and took a drink. “Now get out of the way, because I need to cut up some veggies for the salad.” He pulled several bags out of the fridge and plopped them on the counter. “Do you have a cutting board?”

I pointed at one of the lower cupboards and then stepped back, leaning against the end of the counter to watch. He found the cutting board, selected a knife from the wooden block on the counter and started to work. “Stop watching me,” he said after a few minutes. “I keep waiting for you to tell me what I’m doing wrong.”

“You’re not doing anything wrong,” I said. “I just enjoy seeing this domestic side of you.” He made a face and flipped me off. I shrugged. “You’re the one who said you liked playing house husband.”

He laughed. “Okay, I deserved that,” he admitted. “Now go sit down and wait for me to call you to the table.” He pointed at me with the knife.

I retired to the living room to finish my wine and flip through my mail (which Dieter had helpfully brought in and placed on the coffee table). Nothing of real interest except a 20% off coupon for Kohl’s and a catalog from Daedelus Books. I sat those aside and tossed the rest in my “stuff to be shredded” basket, which was starting to get a bit full. I made a mental note to work on that soon.

I settled back to thumb through the catalog as I sipped my wine and before I knew it, Dieter was in the doorway. “Dinner’s ready, honey!,” he said. He was wearing a stupid frilly apron I kept in a drawer; my aunt had given it to me one year for Christmas and I’d kept it to wear on the rare occasions when I baked.

“You look ridiculous,” I said, giggling. 

He spun around. “You like it? I found it in the drawer when I was looking for a pot holder to get the lasagna out of the oven with.” 

“It’s you,” I said. “But please, take it off, or I won’t be able to eat for laughing.”

He grumbled something about slaving away over a hot stove all day and not getting any respect as he untied the apron, balled it up and tossed it back into the kitchen. Then he pulled my chair out for me and we sat down to eat. Veggie lasagna; a huge salad full of cucumbers, radishes, grape tomatoes, and feta cheese; and a crusty loaf of Italian bread with herbed olive oil for dipping.

“This … this is amazing,” I said, looking around at the food, the wine, the fact that he’d actually gone through my mismatched cutlery drawer and made sure our knives and forks were all the same pattern.

He shrugged. “Like I said, I had fun today.” He pointed at me with his fork. “Just don’t expect this all the time, okay?”

After dinner, he put away the leftovers. “See, I planned ahead,” he told me. “This way we have dinner for tomorrow night all squared away.” He tapped his finger against the side of his head. When he came back out, he had a big bowl of mixed berries and a can of whipped cream.

“Is that dessert or do you have something weird planned for the bedroom?” I teased. 

“Both, if you’re lucky,” he said. He sat the bowl down, took the cap off the whipped cream and squirted a dollop on his finger, then dabbed it on the tip of my nose. He sat the can down in front of me and went back into the kitchen. He came back with two slices of pound cake on saucers. “And you thought I was being kinky,” he said, shaking his head. Then he leaned down and licked the melting whipped cream off my nose.

*****************************

The next morning, Dieter barely stirred when the alarm went off. I slipped out of bed, got dressed and headed off to work, leaving him another note on the table.

“Can’t wait to see what you have planned for tonight. XOXOXO”

Work dragged on and on, as Fridays were wont to do, and of course I got a last minute phone call that kept me a few minutes past quitting time. Finally, I was free for the weekend and hurried home, only to find Dieter’s car gone. Instantly, my heart sank and I chided myself. If he’d had to leave, he would have texted or called me and I had no messages. He must have run to the store or something and just wasn’t back yet.

I went inside, flipped through the mail and poured myself a glass of wine. As I was leaving the kitchen, I heard a key in the lock and the door opened. “Hi, honey, I’m home!” Dieter called out in a cheesy sitcom voice.

“That was supposed to be my line,” I said. 

He had a bag in his hand, which he dropped on the coffee table. “I had to drive further than I thought I would,” he said. He opened the bag and pulled out a bottle. “Actual massage oil,” he said. “So you won’t smell like a salad this time.”

“This time?”

He grinned. “You wanted to know what I had planned for tonight,” he said. “I thought you might like a full body massage.”

“Only if I can return the favor,” I said, taking the bottle from him. “Mmm, lavender and sweet almond oil. That sounds amazing.” I opened the cap and took a sniff. I felt myself relax instantly.

“I’ll give you a massage tonight and you can give me one tomorrow,” he said. “But only if I get a ‘happy ending’.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“You are disgusting,” I said. “But don’t worry, you will.” I handed the bottle back to him. “You’ve taken such good care of me, I’m going to spend the weekend taking care of you.” I took his face in my hands and kissed him greedily. I’d been waiting for this moment all day. 

“I’m glad you said that,” Dieter said when we came up for air. “Because I have an idea …”

***************************************************************

I was nervous. Dieter’s idea has sounded good but now that it was time for me to roll over onto my back I wasn’t so sure. Things had started out as a normal massage, just like the night before, but now it was time for the “happy ending” he’d envisioned. The rules were simple: the one being massaged had to simply lie back and enjoy; the one doing the massaging was only able to use their hands (and mouth) to pleasure the other. This meant that I would be completely exposed to Dieter’s view, something that I had mostly avoided so far.

I wasn’t exactly ashamed of my body, but I was self conscious about it. I was an average middle aged woman. Things sagged and bulged after decades of dealing with gravity, I knew that. But Dieter worked in Hollywood. He was surrounded by perfect bodies all the time. 

“Can we turn off the lights?” I suggested when Dieter prodded me to flip over.

”Of course not,” he said. “I have to see what I’m doing.” He flopped down next to me. “I want to see what I’m doing,” he added quietly. He brushed a lock of hair away from my face. “I think you’re beautiful.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re just saying that because you’re horny.”

”First of all, even if I am horny, I’m not getting any tonight because of the rules of the game,” he said. “So let me enjoy what I can. And second of all, looking at you is enjoyable. Thinking about you is enjoyable. Touching you is enjoyable.” He smiled a crooked smile. “Watching you cry out my name is enjoyable. And third of all …” He kissed me deeply. When I was discombobulated enough, he flipped me over onto my back. “That’s better,” he said. Then he proceeded to play the game exceedingly well.

So well that we both won. Three times.

[toki-is-the-king]

More Dethklok headcanons:

How I imagine each of their morning routines go.

•Nathan: Nathan likes his routine. He’s a a regular guy. If he’s not waking up screaming from a night long prophetic nightmare, he usually gets up around the same time every day, unless he’s hungover or feeling lazy. He strikes me as the type to go shower, then grabs the outfit he wore the previous day, sniff it, and then put it back on. He pretty much wears the same shit each day and choosing an outfit wastes time, in his opinion. If he doesn’t have to go anywhere then he just goes to the kitchen in his boxers and robe to drink from the milk carton. Then he likes to read the news paper, while wearing his glasses, and drinking his black coffee. He stares into the void for awhile, not talking, just clearing his throat or grunting while making a mental check list of what he needs to get done that day. I think Nathan tries his best out of everyone to be organized, the best he can at least. Nathan is one of those guys that would have a stupid mug that says ‘don’t fucking talk to me until I’ve had my coffee’ or ‘not a morning person’. Some dumb Spencer’s type of shitty mug.The guys got it for him as a joke but he uses it anyway.

•Pickles: Pickles wakes up hungover, surrounded by beer cans, probably passed out behind the couch or in some really weird position that hurts his neck. He sits and stares at the wall for a few minutes, gets up to go puke, then heads to the kitchen to search for more beer. Pickles never learns, or he just doesn’t care. Charles just stands there shaking his head. Pickles has a bed but he hardly wakes up in it. He falls asleep in bed a lot and then finds himself passed out somewhere random, usually on the floor in the living room or his bathroom. He never remembers too much of the previous night and that’s okay. He likes blacking out. He doesn’t usually eat breakfast when he has a hangover and just finds random snacks to munch on until he feels a little better.

•Murderface: The first and I mean very first thing Murderface does when his eyes open each morning is jack off (with his bass playing hand). Then after a round of that he turns on the tv. Sometime later he probably joins Pickles who’s sitting at the table in his underwear. Murderface likes to have breakfast even if no one else is, so he has Jean Pierre cook him something right away. Murderface usually sits at the table, stabbing away at the surface with his knife, and talks at whoever is up. Pickles, who’s too hungover to even comprehend what he’s saying, and Nathan, who’s sitting off to the side silently doing a cross word puzzle. Murderface doesn’t care if they aren’t listening, he just likes to talk and hates awkward silences. When Nathan is done with the newspaper Murderface asks for it so he can read the obituaries. “I jusht like to schee who’s died lately…you know, caush I’m up at the crack of dawn, living my life, and they’re jusht dead! Ha! Fuck em!”

•Toki: When Toki wakes up, he always checks his Dethphone to see if he has any missed calls or messages from Dr Rockso. Toki likes to take those dumb morning selfies and send them to the Dethklok group chat. He usually says the same thing every time like ‘just workes up! Good mornings!’ and only Charles or Nathan responds because it’s so early. Toki wakes up the earliest because his body is used to it. As a child he had to be up before the sun in order to begin the family chores, so I feel like he’s usually up and going long before everyone else. He also can’t fall back asleep unless he’s hungover. Toki likes to have some quiet time with just himself for awhile, working on his model airplanes or coloring. He loves the guys but sometimes he likes to be by himself where it’s quiet and no one’s arguing. I think he also talks to himself or to his stuffed animals while he’s building his models, telling them about his nightmares or what he wants to do that day. Sometimes he just goes on rants and feels better afterwards. “Man I reallys hopes Dr Rockso nots in the slammer again! I donts know what’s to tells that guy! He nevers listens to Toki! I just tries to helps him cause he ams my friend!” Toki also has to take his insulin, which he’s gotten the hang of now since Charles instructed him to do it. He hardly misses a shot, knowing he feels better if he takes them. Sometimes though he can’t resist those sugary kid’s cereals and he’ll eat a big bowl of cereal and then take his insulin right away. He knows it’s risky but he likes sugar too much. The guys all stand there staring at him, making sure he doesn’t go into a diabetic coma. Murderface will wait around just a little longer than everyone else, you know just in case ‘hambuger time’ happens.

•Skwisgaar also gets up early. When he’s waking up alone and not in the company of the women who sleep over, he likes to get out of bed right away so he doesn’t depress himself by lying there and staring at the ceiling, wasting precious time that could be spent practicing guitar. He goes and takes a piss, showers, then spends forever brushing his hair and doing some kind of skin routine, but he doesn’t let anyone else know. Dude literally hides his facial stuff and face masks so no one asks about them. If anyone does see them, he usually says something like one of the ladies he was seeing that night left it. “Oh ja, dis sluts from de nights before leaves alls her shit in my rooms…so I’s just keeps it for a reminders how goods dat ah sexual intimasky was that day. It’s likes a trophy.”After he finishes with his hair and stuff, Skwisgaar sits and practices guitar until his hands are sore. If he’s not hurting himself is he really playing to his full potential?! He has a weird obsession with outdoing himself from his last practice session, pressuring himself to be better and faster each time. If he can’t play the fastest he won’t be the best. He has to be the best. Once his hands are too sore it motivates him to leave his room so he doesn’t fall into a hole of self criticism over his guitar playing. When he’s around others he’s the biggest show off about how good he is at guitar and he knows it, but on occasion even he doubts himself. And being alone and second guessing himself can be too much first thing in the morning, so he joins the guys in the kitchen. He usually has black coffee like Nathan and probably toast or something.

[filthyjanuary]

ok so like here is my opinion even though absolutely no one asked and i am going to attempt to say the first part of this from an objective standpoint ignoring the dream situation of it all 

quackity ignoring this externally imo is not a big deal. it’s very nikita dragun school of ignoring controversy until it disappears which i think is generally a good strategy unless you’ve been accused of Literal Crimes like celebrities are not sitting on twitter writing up twitlongers to every single petty drama that they or their stans are involved in

that said, i do think (if this is all true) ignoring private messages is kind of immature and stupid on his part like at least internally sort this out. the ignore and cut off move was one of my standards in high school and then i grew up and stopped doing that because it’s not a very adult way of handling things. i don’t think anything else that he (allegedly) said or did was particularly wild or wrong though, like i can think of multiple reasons off the top of my head that he wouldn’t want people on both servers that have nothing to do with being malicious. i just think articulating things once internally would’ve probably been Smart. courteous even.

on dream’s part dear god dude when are you going to learn to shut up!!! just be quiet!!! talking about it just publicizes it MORE and is dumping kerosene on an already burning house. no one who was already sending death threats or doxxing is going to stop because you tweeted asking nicely lmfao please get a reality check. the people who are doing that are going to keep doing it because i promise everyone already knows that doing those things is wrong and they don’t care!!! they do not care!!!!!! you do not need to publicly answer to every fucking thing (except the thing you should probably actually answer to but i digress). and as a multimillionaire you actually have the resources to protect yourself and the people you care about. lots of people don’t. and if anything publicizing all of this after already having stirred the pot publicly for weeks is literally just going to make the vitriol worse so like congrats, go girl give us nothing.

basically imo they should’ve coordinated their responses to either be both of them put out a statement (think ned fulmer and the try guys) and then stopped talking about it or neither of them said anything because this one person says nothing and one person does not shut the fuck up does not look good for anyone. for the love of god GET PR PEOPLE I KEEP SAYING THIS I AM BANGING MY FISTS ON TABLES GET PR PEOPLE YOU CAN AFFORD IT

at present it’s very nikita dragun school of controversy vs jeffree star school of controversy sorry i keep comparing everything to beauty gurus i hung out in that corner of youtube for a very long time (#blockedbyjeffreeontwitter)

having said that taking the dream situation into context!! i actually don’t care even if i thought he’d done everything right in this situation i still wouldn’t care!! i am not going to sit around and tweet mournfully about a multimillionaire who takes advantage of his status to be weird to fans peace and love on planet earth

[switchytransboy]

What are your biggest red flags when it comes to making new tickle friends? I remember you saying you’ve been in this community for 10 years or something now 😂 thought you’d have good tips!

oh god don’t make me feel old saying that back to me even if it’s true 😂😂 but here’s some off the top of my head:

1. if they don’t put effort into conversation unless it’s about tickling. i’m not here just to be a tickle toy (until i know you better at least 😉) i’m here to make friends into the same things as i and THEN see if things end up happening! so that means i look for people who i get along with, who care to talk to me about other things, care about me as a person etc

2. being trans my guard is HIGH and im very aware of how im being treated, respected and perceived. the instant i feel as if im being fetishized or disrespected, im out. if i get the impression that im talking to a straight man who’s only talking to me as a form of settling due to not having a female lee to hit up (since my body has certain parts cis females also have) then im out. i dont stand for hatred of any kind, disrespect, misgendering, or fetishization. been there, done that.

3. if they try to rush into teasing or meet ups. being so tickle desperate that it makes you socially unaware and straight up weird or disrespectful is an instant block. building a good and lasting connection in kink takes a little time and going slow for many people, me being one.

4. continuously messaging when i don’t answer. and i don’t mean it being a day or a few days, i mean if i go a couple hours without responding and come back to several messages trying to bait responses from me, im out. all of us here live our own lives and are adults working jobs tryna just make it through the day, a lack of response from me usually just means im tired asf and need a couple to be up to holding a conversation. not anything personal! don’t let anyone think they’re entitled to responses from you.

5. if any weird comments are made about my partner or relationship, i’m out.

these are the main ones i live by being trans and queer in this community, i know different people all have different red flags due to living different lives as well! i even have more i could list if anyone wanted since there’s so much shit that has happened in my ~decade here in this chaotic app lmaooo

[imagines-ahs]

Chapter Forty-One: Goldenrod.

Summary: Wilhemina Venable felt it was finally time to leave Kineros Robotics and get a job with people who weren’t such morons like Jeff and Mutt. What she didn’t expect, however, was for her new boss to be so damn insufferable. She didn’t expect to fall in love with her, either.

Tag List: @mayfair-fleur @mistysswampmud @paulsonsratched @msvenablx @notmeellaannyy @rwoolfe @golddustdykes​ @lovingsarah @slut-for-sarah @geinobinarie​ (message me to be added if interested!)

Venable’s eyes seemed to have shifted. Billie Dean frowned. “Are you okay?”

Forcing the tears to stay inside, Wilhemina nodded; she nodded in all honesty, with happiness pouring out of every pore. “I am. I’m just… happy.” When had she ever thought she’d be happy?

Billie Dean knew there was something behind those eyes; unspoken words, unspoken fears, perhaps… Venable would talk about them when she felt comfortable. Good thing I’m not a curious person. Even if she were, Billie was sure she’d give Wilhemina time. So she nodded, for the words were simple and yet so pure. “That’s all I want for you.”

I’m always happy around you. Venable nodded with a smile. Something in her still screamed for her to proceed with caution; to not throw her every thought and affection at Billie Dean. She might pull away again, the thought came out of nowhere. Wilhemina decided she wouldn’t listen to it; not today, not tonight. They had already talked about it, after all. Before she could say something else, another yawn left her lips. She turned away from Billie. “Sorry—“ With her free hand, she covered her mouth.

I should go home. “It’s okay.” Billie nervously licked her lower lip. “I should—I should go home… leave you to rest. It was a long day.” I don’t want to leave. But that wasn’t up for her to decide.

Venable blinked once. I don’t want her to leave. They had slept together before… there was no difference from now, right? There clearly is. Wilhemina was so sure Billie Dean would respect her, the move didn’t feel so risky. Or maybe it did, but the ache to have Billie close was bigger. She didn’t see my back before… it won’t be different this time. Venable gulped. “You… you can stay, if you’d like…”

Honey eyes picked up a little. “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose…”

Wilhemina nodded. “I’m sure. Unless—unless you want to leave?” She needs to rest, too, after all.

“I don’t,” Billie was quick to shake her head. They both chuckled. “I don’t,” she repeated.

“Alright, then.” Giving Billie Dean’s hand a squeeze, Venable pulled away to get up. “I still have your toothbrush, from last week.” That sounds weird. “I kept it… just in case.” Her cheeks tinted.

Billie smiled to herself as she got up as well. She never stopped thinking about me. It helped the wound to heal. “Thank you,” she said softly.

Wilhemina nodded. “Would you like to shower before bed?”

“Is it bad if I say no?” Billie Dean grimaced playfully. Sex didn’t even cross her mind; she wasn’t focused on it at all. Waiting was a decision they had both agreed on. “I’ve showered before the party…”

Laughing a little, Venable shook her head. “I’ve done the same.”

“Two peas in a pod.”

Chuckling still, Wilhemina guided them to her bedroom. There, she stepped aside for Billie Dean to make herself comfortable. “There’s makeup wipes at the first drawer, and your toothbrush is at the third one.”

“Thank you.” Billie nodded and followed to the bathroom.

While waiting for Billie Dean to be done, Venable grabbed their purses on the living room and set them on the bed stand, just in case. Then, she proceeded to make the bed. Excitement bubbled inside her chest. It all felt so foreignly easy, so good and so simple; being with Billie was simple. It came naturally, it was organic. I’m scared of tomorrow. A night of sleep could lift the spell and bring all of Wilhemina’s demons back. I need to try. Purpura jumped on the bed once it was done, tail waggling softly as she stared at the bathroom door. Venable now sat down on her vanity, carefully taking her earrings and necklace off. Then, she reached for her hairbrush and began to loosen her waves, watching herself in the mirror. I don’t feel so ugly today. Venable bit her lower lip, eyes examining her features all over while she kept on brushing her silky red hair. I think I need to cut it a little. Her locks were reaching her waist already. Lost in her thoughts about herself, Wilhemina barely heard when the bedroom door opened. She looked up at Billie Dean, hairbrush in hand. Billie now had her face clean and hair up in a ponytail. How can anyone look that gorgeous? It was a constant thought every time Venable looked at her. “Hi,” she said softly.

“Hi.” With a soft smile in the corner of her lips, Billie Dean approached Wilhemina from behind. She rested her hands on Venable’s shoulders, caressing them. Wilhemina’s muscles stiffened. She looked at her through the mirror. Venable worried her teeth with her lower lip again, for Billie’s hands were too close to her spine. “Is this okay?”

Shit. Wilhemina forced herself to relax. She had her back pressed against the chair, meaning there was no way Billie Dean could actually slip her hands down to her spine. It’s okay. It’s safe. Her hair was in the way of allowing Billie to see her back, too. Hesitantly, she nodded. “Y-yes. I’m sorry.” She set the hairbrush down.

Take it easy. Venable deserved nothing but gentleness, kindness, affection. Billie Dean leaned down and kissed her cheek. From the mirror, Wilhemina watched it. How lovingly weird was it? To feel and see someone kissing her so softly, so full of affection and tenderness? It made it all more real, to see the both of them in the mirror like that. Deep brown eyes refused to look away, and a slightly shaky hand reached do caress one of Billie’s. Honey eyes softened as Billie Dean, too, watched them. “You are gorgeous,” she whispered right on the cusp of Venable’s ear.

“You are,” Wilhemina whispered back. They kept on staring at each other through the mirror, and Venable lightly squeezed the hand she had been caressing. “That’s sweet…”

“What is?”

“You and me,” Venable nearly whispered. “In the mirror… like that.” Her cheeks tinted a little more than they already had.

Billie Dean’s smile grew. “I think so, too.” She leaned to kiss Wilhemina’s cheek again, and this time Venable turned gently to kiss her lips. With her free hand, Wilhemina cupped one of Billie’s cheeks, pulling her closer. Their kiss was tender and slow.

“I’ll finish getting ready for bed,” Venable whispered, therefore breaking their kiss. Billie Dean nodded, eyes still closed. She pecked her one more time before slowly pulling away, hands caressing Wilhemina’s shoulders as she did so.

Billie got onto the bed as Venable disappeared into the bathroom. She sat down beside Purpura, hand reaching to caress the cat. “Isn’t she lovely?” Billie Dean whispered. Purpura stared at her as if she could understand her words. “I’m falling pretty hard…” The cat meowed once. Billie smiled to herself. “Would you like it? To have me around more often?” Purpura purred as she received the caresses on her back, eyes closing as she relaxed. I think that’s a yes. Billie Dean gently moved to get under the covers, and lavender got stronger in the air. She calmly looked around the room now, taking in every single detail she could; from the purple curtains, to the purple details on the wallpaper, to the picture that rested on the set of shelves there. From afar, Billie couldn’t really make out the shape of who it was, but she figured it was Wilhemina. Her body was too tired to get out of bed, so she put a mental pin on it to go and look at it tomorrow. A yawn left her lips, and she quickly covered it with her palm. How utterly crazy was it, that she was ending her day in a way she would have never thought about when waking up? How strange, how… good? This is really happening, her mind kept on bringing that thought back, forcing it to believe and accept that it was true; it just felt so good Billie Dean feared it wasn’t real. With a deep breath, Billie reached to let her hair go from her ponytail. She carefully set the elastic on the nightstand beside her, eyes landing on a pile of books there—all Shakespeare. Billie Dean had heard about most of Shakespeare’s work, but she was the first one to admit she had never been much of a reader. No wonder she’s so smart. The bedroom door opened again, revealing a ready-for-bed Wilhemina in all her glory, with no makeup and hair looking as soft as silk. Billie couldn’t help but stare at her. That’s the woman that has feelings for me. She offered Venable a smile, watching as she closed the bedroom door and walked to the bed. “I got into this side since that’s where I slept last time,” Billie Dean felt the need to explain, for some reason. Her nerves would take a little to get used to being so close to Wilhemina.

Venable couldn’t help but find the words sweet. She chuckled lovingly, taking a seat beside Billie and getting under the covers. “It’s alright. I usually sleep at the side I’m at.” She set her cane aside, leaning against the wall and ready to be picked up tomorrow morning.

“Okay, okay.” Billie Dean licked her lips. They both eyed each other, one on each side of the bed. The air seemed to have gotten denser. Nervously, Venable played with her fingers. It was just Billie Dean. They had shared a bed before, after all. Taking a deep breath, Wilhemina shyly looked at her. Billie felt her cheeks tinting. “Hi,” Billie Dean whispered, and a small, nervous chuckle left her lips.

“Hi,” Venable chuckled back. She nibbled on her lower lip. Billie Dean wanted to snuggle closer; wanted to hold Wilhemina and caress her hair. But Venable was still at the other side of the bed. Taking a deep breath, Wilhemina kept her eyes on Billie. It’s just Billie.

What do I do? Billie Dean wasn’t too sure. So she simply offered her a hand. And Wilhemina was quick to take it and tangle their fingers together. She smiled to herself. “Can I move closer?” The question came almost in a whisper. With her cheeks nearly exploding from how red they turned, Venable nodded. She lifted the covers so Billie could slide in easier, arm clumsily wrapping around Billie Dean’s shoulders in a gush of bravery. What was Wilhemina doing? She wanted Billie close; wanted to smell her perfume, wanted to feel her skin. An arm wrapped around her own waist, and then there they were; tangled in each other, with Billie Dean’s head resting on Venable’s chest. They lay down in a silent agreement. With her ear so close to Wilhemina’s heart, Billie could hear how fast it was beating. She’s nervous. Billie Dean gulped. “I can—I can move back, if you’re not comfortable,” she whispered, eyes looking up in search for brown eyes.

Was she comfortable? Weirdly enough, yes. Weirdly enough, Venable found herself loving to have a body pressed against her own, a head of blonde hair on her chest, an arm around her waist. She shook her head, forcing her body to relax. My spine is against the mattress. It’s safe. She can’t touch it. Her free hand awkwardly rested on Billie’s arm. Wilhemina looked down the best she could, meeting those gorgeous honey eyes staring up at her with oh so much warmth. Taking a deep breath, she shook her head. “I want you close,” she whispered.

Billie Dean knew the words were true, but she worried that the touches were too soon. “You’re trembling…” Her hand absently caressed Venable’s waist, and her body craved to just relax against the warmth that was Wilhemina; she couldn’t, not yet, not before she knew Venable was alright.

Taking another slow, deep breath, Wilhemina licked her suddenly chapped lips. With the hand that was behind Billie Dean, she reached to slowly play with her blonde locks—a distraction, and a way of showing Billie affection and that she was, indeed, positive on her decision. “I’m not used to having someone so close,” their words kept on being merely a whisper, as soft as melted butter. But I want you close.

Billie nodded. “Is this too fast?”

“No,” Wilhemina shook her head. “I… I trust you.” She gulped.

With her eyes sparkling at the corners, Billie Dean opened a sleepy smile. “I trust you, too.”

She’s an angel. Wilhemina forced herself to relax a little more, to not think too much about the situation. She felt as Billie gradually relaxed on top of her, too, eyes closing and breath calming down. And then she leaned down to kiss her head, for Venable found herself eager to show that woman how much she meant to her. In the back of her mind, Wilhemina could understand why things with Emma had felt so awkward; not, in a million years, could Venable see herself in that way with Emma—so damn vulnerable, so damn raw. She had tried, but it didn’t come naturally, and back then, Wilhemina assumed that’s how it was supposed to be. “Billie?”

The kiss left Billie Dean’s ears tingling. Her cheeks hurt from all the smiling she had done that evening. Gently, she pulled Wilhemina closer, and this time, her body could appreciate the body underneath her own; could feel its softness, could pay attention to how delicately it moved. “Yes?” Their eyes met again. I want to kiss her.

Licking her lips, Venable pondered her words. “I always want you close,” she whispered. “Even if I don’t know how to express it.”

With her smile growing, Billie Dean leaned up to peck Wilhemina’s lips; she lingered there for a second or two, hand moving up to cup her cheek. I’m so in love with her. “Me too… I’ve wanted it for a long time.” With her cheeks tinting, Wilhemina leaned to kiss Billie one more time, and her fingers tangled in blonde locks kept on caressing it. Billie Dean hummed happily, lips colliding with Wilhemina’s once again. She could feel Venable smiling against their kiss, and it was all Billie needed to allow herself to fully and totally relax. Wilhemina slowly, and somewhat shakily, moved her hand lower, caressing through Billie Dean’s locks and going down to her back and, eventually, waist; the path was so smooth, so straight and different from her own. Would Billie mind it? Would Billie be repulsed by it? Venable figured now was not the time to give it that much thought; they wouldn’t cross that line yet. She pulled Billie Dean closer, and Billie broke their kiss with a smile. She stared deeply into dark brown eyes, thumb tracing over Wilhemina’s cheekbone. “I love to look at you,” she whispered. Each time I do, I find a new detail I hadn’t noticed before.

You might be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on. That sounded like it was a lie, and Venable absolutely hated to lie. So she didn’t say the words out loud, because she felt like she had already said it so many times Billie could think she was not being truthful, even if the words and the feelings it provided Wilhemina were the closest she had ever felt to being real. Instead, Venable leaned to kiss her again, slowly and tender and in a way she hoped could transfer all the lovely and bubbly warmth inside her chest. Billie Dean hummed happily once again, scooting even closer to Wilhemina, which caused their legs to organically tangle in each other. Wilhemina didn’t mind; she didn’t mind it at all. Her lower stomach twisted softly as she kept on kissing Billie Dean, arm wrapped securely around her body as if she were afraid Billie would slip away—just like a dream sometimes would in the morning. Billie Dean was her dream. A sigh left Billie’s nose as she, too, caressed Venable. She could feel her abdomen getting heavier again, and her ears began to tingle in delight. As soft as melted butter, Billie Dean moved her hand down to tangle with Venable’s—the one that caressed her arm. She caressed her fingers, guiding their hands to rest on top of Wilhemina’s torso; her heart had sped up again, and Billie could feel it, so, slowly, she pulled away from Venable, lips brushing on hers as she did so. Billie’s breath was a little labored. Deep brown eyes stared at her, and Billie Dean offered her a soft smile, for saying anything about her heart would do no good rather than making her feel even more nervous. Still softly, Billie leaned closer and kissed Wilhemina’s nose, and then, she rested her head back against her chest, hand letting go of her and pulling her closer by the waist once again. Venable bit her lower lip. I love it when she kisses my nose. It was such a sweet and, to her, foreign form of affection… so pure, so raw, so Billie Dean. And Wilhemina was learning she was bound to love everything Billie Dean. Her now free hand moved to caress the arm around her waist like it had done before, thumb tracing the soft muscles there. Venable took a deep breath. “Thank you,” she whispered after a minute of silence.

“What for?” Billie Dean snuggled closer to Wilhemina’s neck, nose burying against it. She took a deep breath. The scent would soon mean home.

What for? Not even Venable herself knew exactly what for. So she simply shook her head and held Billie a little tighter. Her eyes had grown heavy from sleepy. “Goodnight, Billie,” she whispered. Blindly, she reached to turn the lights off.

Billie Dean didn’t mind the lack of an answer, for she felt the exact same way. Nodding softly, she pecked Wilhemina’s neck—wherever she could reach—gently. “Goodnight, Wilhie… thank you, too. For everything.” In the dark, Venable smiled to herself. With no other stimuli, Wilhemina focused on the different smell all over the room—Floratta Blue—she focused on the weight on top of her, on the light breathing so close to her ear, on the arm around herself that caressed her so damn sweetly. Venable found herself feeling more than happy; she felt lucky. The type of happiness Wilhemina looked back and was thankful there was no way of time-traveling back, for that way she couldn’t screw it up. It was hard to believe it was real. It was hard to believe it was happening. But it was. And with every breath she took, the curls underneath her nose that smelled so much like Floratta Blue reminded her of that.

I’m so glad she’s here. That was the last thing Wilhemina thought before sleep took over her. What a week. What a day. What a night.

Morning arrived sooner for Billie Dean than it did for Venable, for she was the first one to open her eyes; the house was, after all, still foreign to her. Taking a deep breath, Billie hummed as she slowly looked around. It took a second for consciousness to down on her, and then her mind took another one to recollect everything that had happened the night before. Already, the corners of Billie Dean’s lips began to turn up. She looked to the side only for her eyes to fall on Wilhemina, with her back towards her and hair falling all tousled on the pillows, body still, however, glued on hers. Without thinking much, Billie hugged Venable from behind, pulling her closer and burying her nose against red hair. She took a deep breath, finding one of Wilhemina’s hands and caressing it, arm around her waist. Her eyes closed again, and all she had in mind was the moment she found herself at. After a second or two, Billie Dean felt Venable’s breathing change, indicating she, too, had begun to wake up. Wilhemina hummed as she took a deep breath, and then her eyes opened as she felt something warm hugging her. Billie Dean. Venable’s mind shot her all the memories from the night before, and her nostrils were quick to catch up the faint aroma of Floratta Blue that had begun to permeate the room along with lavender. Wilhemina’s thumb instantly caressed Billie’s hand, but then her body quickly grew rigid as it assimilated the position it was at; with Billie Dean inches away from her spine. It was like fire had suddenly engulfed her body, for Wilhemina nearly jumped away from Billie and, in the rushed state of her movements, caused her to practically fall down from the bed. She turned around in a rush as she pulled away, and Billie Dean’s arm around her waist pulled her closer as she was about to lose balance and make her way down to the floor. Dark brown eyes were open wide as Wilhemina panted, chest rising and falling rapidly as her vision went blurry, hands holding the sheets close to herself and squeezing them tightly.

“Wilhie?” Billie Dean frowned. Everything was too fast and Venable suddenly looked like she was about to hyperventilate. She pulled away. Billie snuggled back a little, giving Wilhemina room. She gulped. Nervousness raised up inside her chest. Does she regret me already? Honey eyes grew heavy as they kept glued on Venable, watching as she kept on struggling to breathe more and more. “W-Wilhie, are you o-okay?” Billie Dean sat up on the bed, now.

Do something! Say something! You are such a failure! Wilhemina couldn’t move. She brought her legs close to herself and tried making her body as small as possible, eyes closing shut as she couldn’t bring the air to properly fill her lungs. She’ll leave me. She saw my back. She felt my back. She thinks I’m disgusting. Venable squeezed the sheets more and more, heart beating loudly inside her ears. You are making such a scene! Stop it! Stop it, now! Wilhemina squeezed her eyes even more, knuckles turning white and jaw tensing so hard the muscles on her neck peeked out. Trying to take a deep breath, Venable let out a sound. No air came inside.

What do I do?! Billie Dean had seen Wilhemina like that before—when she was at Emma’s house, during FaceTime. But it felt different, now; it was way more real, and they were face to face. She’ll turn blue! Honey eyes kept on growing in size. “W-Wilhie—Wilhie, what c-can I do?”

There was no response. Wilhemina barely caught the sound of Billie Dean’s voice, for it came all muffled. From the corner of her eye, Billie watched as Purpura jumped on the bed and crawled to Venable. Then, the cat snuggled its little head right against Wilhemina’s. Instantly, Venable reached to caress Purpura’s skin, focusing on the texture of it. It’s okay. I’m home. I’m safe. Wilhemina’s shaky hand kept on caressing the cat until she could bring herself to breathe in a way that resembled the usual. Her eyes had grown teary. She gulped as she panted.

Watching everything with wide eyes, Billie Dean wiped a tear that had made its way down her cheek. Just a few minutes had passed, but they felt like hours. Venable seemed to be able to breathe a little better, now, but she was still worried. Nibbling on her lower lip nonstop, Billie didn’t take her eyes away from her. “W-Wilhie…?” She tried again. What did I do? I’m no good for her. Emma was right. Her whole body shook with adrenaline.

This time, Billie Dean’s voice sounded way clearer. I have to say something. Wilhemina could still feel how her body refused to relax, legs tight and free hand squeezing the sheet. But Billie deserved an explanation. Slowly, Venable opened her eyes. Purpura was still there, right on her face. She smiled sadly before slowly forcing herself to start sitting up, hands pulling the sheets over to cover herself all the way up to the neck. The cat jumped out of the bed and sat at the doorframe, watching them attentively. Dark brown eyes refused to meet Billie Dean’s. I’m such a failure. Her chest was still moving rapidly. “I… I—I-I’m s-sorry,” she managed to croak out.

With her face scrunching up in tears, Billie covered her mouth with a hand. She held back a sob as adrenaline washed over her and left her at the edge. “A-are you okay?” I need to compose myself. Wilhemina nodded at her. Billie Dean looked down at her hands. She wiped her tears away, but more came. What did I do? Why do I always have to fuck it up? She sniffled, fingers nervously playing with themselves. “C-can I do anything?” She croaked out again. “Do y-you want me to leave?”

She’s crying. Wilhemina bit her inner cheek so hard she thought she was about to draw blood. I’m meant to be alone. All I do is hurt her. Taking a deep breath the best she could, Venable gulped. Say something. Hug her. Apologize. Kiss her! Anything! How did one act in a situation like that with someone they cared about? How did it even work? Hesitantly, Wilhemina turned to look at Billie Dean. The sight broke her heart. “N-no… I n-never want you t-to leave.” Her chin trembled. Don’t you dare cry. Don’t you fucking dare. Venable gulped. Billie was still looking down as tears streamed down her face. Once again, Wilhemina struggled to take a deep breath. “D-do you want to?” The question came in a tone that was so damn fragile Venable had never heard it coming from herself before. Her stomach twisted with nerves.

Instantly, Billie Dean shook her head. This time, she looked back up at Wilhemina. I never want you to leave. The words eased her a bit, for they meant Venable still felt the same. “N-no… b-but I keep o-on hurting y-you…”

She thinks she’s hurting me. “B-Billie… Billie, n-no… you’re not hurting m-me.” Wilhemina’s chest hurt. She took another and, this time, efective deep breath. Billie Dean didn’t seem to believe the words, for her eyes still felt heavy and her sight had fallen back down. Venable bit her inner cheek again. Say it. Tell her. Was it safe to tell Billie so much? Was it safe to explain her ways, her insecurities, her fears? Was any of it safe? I need to do it if I want her to stay. Billie Dean didn’t deserve something else to blame herself for. The rock was heavy, but this time Wilhemina felt like she had four hands to lift it up. “I… y-you… m-my back,” she breathed out. Her hands shook as they played with the sheets, and her throat closed as it refused to let the words out properly. Venable had begun a battle against everything she had ever learned to do. “Y-you… y-you were too close and I-I… I p-panicked… because m-my back is disgusting and I…” Her eyes threatened to overflow. She’ll leave me. She’ll walk away and never look at me again. A tear fell down. She quickly wiped it away and refused to allow more to come down. “I-I don’t want you t-to see it, yet… I-I… I’m scared y-you’ll… you’ll a-abhor me.” At this point, looking at Billie Dean had became too much. Wilhemina focused on the sheets in her hands.

Abhor me. Those were strong words… and they caused Billie Dean to frown even more as she shook her head. How did she not figure it out sooner? It made so much sense! Of course it made sense. It was as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders and given away to clarity. “W-Wilhie…” She looked back at Venable, and the sheets were covering her almost from head to toe, leaving her looking so damn small and fragile and so vulnerable; Wilhemina’s eyes were still teary, and Billie saw the way she so deeply struggled to keep everything inside. “Wilhie, I c-could never abhor you… I—I don’t mind w-what your back looks like. It’s a part of y-you, and that m-makes me a-already absolutely adore it.” Were these even the right words to say? Who knew, but they were the truth. Honey eyes watched as Venable struggled even more with her tears, neck tight. Billie Dean took a silent, deep breath in order to calm herself a little more. Clearly, she had stepped into waters that were too soon to be stepped at, and she had to handle it with care—as she always would, with anything Wilhemina. Venable deserved all the care, tenderness and kindness in the world. “I’m s-sorry… I was h-half asleep and I just—I just turned t-to hold you… I didn’t—I didn’t think a-about it…”

Wilhemina shook her head. “Please, stop a-apologizing… I am the p-problem, not y-you.”

“You are not the p-problem, Wilhie.” Billie Dean had to hold back the first instinct of reaching for one of Venable’s hands. She knew now was not the time. “There is no problem. This is a b-boundary. Everybody has b-boundaries.” She sniffled as her tears stopped gradually.

“B-but I keep o-on hurting you… and I—I really l-like waking u-up with y-you so close but my mind—my mind j-just fucks everything up, always.” Stop talking, Wilhemina’s brain yelled at her, but she decided this time, she wasn’t going to listen to it. “And I want that, but I-I can’t f-function like I-I’m supposed to and y-you—you deserve s-so much more, Billie…” With a sigh, Venable shook her head. Her chin was back at trembling.

“Don’t say that…” Billie Dean felt her chest growing even heavier. “We’ll l-learn how to h-handle everything… I’m n-not mad.”

I’m not mad. Venable gulped. Hesitantly, their eyes met again. “Y-you’re not?”

A tiny, sad smile graced Billie Dean’s face. “Of course not.” How has the world treated her so far? It all just caused Billie to be even more sure that she wanted to make that woman smile.

“B-but I… I have so m-many demons, Billie…”

“So do I.” Billie Dean had said she was not in a rush, and she meant it. “Good thing I can talk to the dead, huh?” She joked, trying to get a smile from that face she was growing to adore so much. It worked, for Wilhemina’s lips tugged up gently.

How is she real? How could Billie Dean not give up on her? She said she doesn’t mind my back. But she hadn’t already seen it for complete… what if she changed her mind? “A-are you sure y-you don’t loath me?” Because I do. The question came barely in a whisper.

Billie Dean nodded. How could I ever loathe her? She wasn’t sure that was possible. “I’m sure, Wilhie.”

Gulping again, Venable nodded. Her eyes fell back down to her hands, and she forced herself to let go of the sheets. Who was she when someone showed her patience? Who was Wilhemina when she didn’t have to fear everyone all the time? Taking a deep breath, Venable nodded again. “C-can you avoid m-my back for now, p-please?”

A boundary. Billie Dean smiled to herself at the way Wilhemina managed to so clearly vocalize it. She nodded. “Of course, Wilhie. For as long as you need me to.”

Venable took another deep breath, for she had been forgetting to breath. That wasn’t so hard. But it had certainly not been easy, either. I need a Valium. “T-thank you,” she whispered. And then, shyly, she offered Billie Dean a hand. A palm instantly rested against hers. A small smile touched her lips. “Would y-you come closer?”

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Nothing But Proud

Summary: Remus isn't exactly good with sensitive conversations.  But he's gonna have to figure it out at least a little, because he has a feeling he needs to talk to his nephew about something

…

So here’s the thing about Remus’ gaydar.

It works about 76% of the time.  Enough that he feels comfortable asking someone out if he’s vaguely sure he can take them on if he has to.  Not enough that he brings it up in casual conversation with most people.  His friends, sure.  They’re as queer as he is.  His family, depends on the person.  His nephew who he’s pretty sure is deep in the self-hatred part of the closet… well.

There’s a 24% chance that goes really, really badly.  And when you’re talking about a kid, you don’t take that chance unless you’re sure.

Thomas’ family is right smack in that gray area of the Catholic homophobia.  Remus is fairly sure they’re good with that shit, but they’ve never said outright, and he’s not going to ask.  Another thing you don’t do when there’s a kid to consider.

Remus talking to Thomas could go bad in so many ways if it’s not as needed as he thinks it is.  If Thomas is straight and homophobic, he’ll get angry, and Remus will have shut down open-mindedness and started him on the path of assholery.  If he’s straight and not homophobic, but his parents are and he talks to them about it, the same thing could happen, along with them banning Remus from seeing the kid.  And Remus rather likes Thomas, if he’s honest with himself.  The kid is bright, and kind, and expressive, and Remus could see him turning out really amazing if things go right for him.  Another reason he doesn’t want this conversation to go bad if it’s not as needed as he thinks it is.

But then there’s the other part of it to consider.  If this conversation is as needed as he thinks it is.  If Thomas is gay and homophobic.

Fuck, if that’s the case and the conversation goes bad…

So Remus has to play this very, very carefully.

It would be easy if he had a boyfriend he could casually introduce, but he doesn’t.  And he doesn’t want to ask any of his friends to get involved and pretend.  Even though he has several who would be very okay with lying about this, Remus doesn’t know if he’s okay with it.  He’s trying to reassure Thomas that it’s okay to be his authentic self, he doesn’t want to lie about his own life while doing that.

So eventually, Remus decides on a very vague affirmation that, if his gaydar isn’t off, will be exactly enough to give Thomas the message.  And if his gaydar is off, Thomas will just give him a weird look, and Remus will know.

So, finally, as Thanksgiving rolls around, Remus heads to the family get-together with the intention of finding some time to talk to Thomas alone.

It ends up coming after the meal is over, when all the adults are gathering for a poker game and all the kids are running downstairs to play and the teenagers are hanging out awkwardly on the side of the room, not really fitting in in either place.

Thomas, thankfully, is standing a little ways off from everyone else, enough that Remus can move over to lean against the wall next to him and talk without anything getting overheard.

“Hey, kid,” he says, and Thomas glances over at him.  “How’s life?”

Thomas gives him a curious look, which is fair.  The two of them aren’t like, on bad terms, but they don’t talk much outside of family gatherings.

“It’s fine,” Thomas says anyway, looking over towards the adults playing poker.  “You don’t want to join the game?”

“Eh,” Remus says with a shrug.  “Don’t want to be around when they all start talking politics.”

Thomas snorts.  “That’s fair,” he mutters.  He goes quiet for a minute, and Remus tries to gauge his mood.  Unsurprisingly, he can’t tell for sure what Thomas’ opinion on sexuality is from a singular moment at a family Thanksgiving party.

So, Remus starts with his prepared affirmation instead.

“You know,” he says, and Thomas looks up at him again.  “I have a lot of weird friends.”

Thomas stares at him in bafflement.  “Good for you?”

“And those friends, you know, I am so proud of them every time they live life as exactly who they are.”

“Right,” Thomas says, still sounding weirded out.

Remus turns and gives Thomas a meaningful look.  “Exactly who they are,” he reiterates.

Thomas looks at him for another second, and then his eyes go wide, and okay, Remus knows now.

Thomas turns away very quickly, going tense, meaning it’s time to wrap this up.

“And you know kid,” Remus says gently.  “I will never be anything but proud of you if you decide to live your life as exactly who you are.”

Thomas says nothing.  He’s started to shake a bit, and Remus should go.  He pats Thomas twice on the shoulder.

“Just wanted to make sure you knew that, kid,” he says, and he walks away to go join the poker game.

He acts as casual as he can for the rest of the night, and never directly approaches Thomas, but he’s barely thinking about much else.  Did he do that right?  He’s never done that before, and he doesn’t think he’s ever been so scared of fucking something up.  If he makes things harder for Thomas while trying to do the exact opposite… the last thing he wants to do is hurt the kid who reminds Remus so much of himself at his age.

He’s expecting to go home without getting a clear answer on anything of the sort, but that ends up not being what happens.  As a round of the poker game is wrapping up, the politics talk is beginning and Remus quietly excuses himself to get a cup of water.

While he’s filling a solo cup up alone at the sink, he feels a set of eyes on him, and he turns to see Thomas standing at the edge of the counter.

He smiles a little.  “Hey kid,” he says.  “How ya doin?”

Thomas opens his mouth, not seeming quite sure what to say.  As a result, they end up standing there in silence for a second.

“Thomas!” a voice calls from the other room.  “Come on, we’ve gotta go!”

Thomas glances over his shoulder but still doesn’t say anything.

Remus reaches out and grabs a napkin from the counter, then pulls a pen out of his pocket and scribbles down his cellphone number.

“Here,” he says, passing it to Thomas.  “If you ever want to talk.  I think we might have some things in common.”

Thomas takes the napkin and looks up at him, wide-eyed.  Remus smiles slightly and winks at him.

Thomas suddenly lurches forward and wraps his arms around Remus in a tight hug.  Remus gives an “oof” of surprise, but hugs the kid back.

“Thomas!” calls the voice from before.  “Where are you?”

Thomas lets go of Remus instantly and runs off without another word.

Remus turns to finish filling his cup of water.

[caught-in-the-filter]

Okay.

I feel like I need to make a clarification post. In general for me and this blog. Because I jumped a few ways, and shouldn’t have, and now I’ve had a minute to just…breathe, and clarify in my head, so hopefully this makes sense, and hopefully I don’t overcomplicate it, because it’s fun and I want it to stay fun, and comfortable.

Bear with me.

…I am okay with nsfw anons, even personal dirty roleplay ones. Mostly. So.

My first time ever making it personal, not fanfic for characters, was in someone else’s inbox, literally right before the messages I’d received in mine. When we’d messaged in their inbox, I had permission/encouragement to… take it further, feel it more—it wasn’t just fun writing, it was… emotional, for me.

So when I got similar messages right after that, I’d assumed it was the same person, heading eventually toward the same intention/dynamic. So when I found out it wasn’t, I got a little spooked, because I had let myself feel too much (emotionally) and be vulnerable in my head, mentally sucked into the fantasy, and I panicked that maybe I shouldn’t have been vulnerable like that not knowing who it was. I was like, “…wait, what?”

But like. I’m not against messages like that, playing like that, it’s just because I assumed and misunderstood and felt too much, it was just the timing, and it threw me off.

I’ve clarified with the person I thought it was, and the person it really was, and I feel like I fucked up and made it weird and didn’t mean to do that. I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable like that. And I’m sorry. ❤️🫂

So anyway. All this to say. I am okay with anons. You can stay on anon and I don’t have to know. Whatever keeps it comfortable and fun for everyone. I know now not to let myself feel like that unless I’m absolutely certain who it is and that it’s okay at that moment, and know now how to verify that first. I just had to gather my brain for a sec and figure out how to get across what I meant.

So it can stay fun and anonymous and just like writing fanfic, even if the pov is personal, like a self-insert fic, innocent fun. I am okay with this. It doesn’t have to be weird. And I don’t have to know who you are. I get feeling safer on anon, because I’ve done that too even for fic. And if anything feels like it’s too far, then I’ll make a post about it to let you know, and we can DM and take it from there, or just drop that one and move on anonymously. Okay?

Keep your sunglasses on, they’re sexy, and let’s have fun, whoever is out there and interested. 😘❤️🫂

[alyjojo]

The Person On Your Mind in February ❤️‍🔥 2023 - Cancer

Whole of their energy towards Cancer: 8 Pentacles

“Band on the Run” by Wings started playing in my head from the minute I started shuffling your reading, which I haven’t heard in foreverrr. And I never get songs, especially not for *this* particular reading, so it’s weird all around. Everything before the chorus. I don’t know how to apply that unless you’re stuck inside or something, that’s for you. Not gonna lie, your reading made me uneasy, until I got to the messages which have you being held accountable. So you’re doing this consciously. Looks like you’re quitting a job, and this person is whoever you’re talking to in order to do that, probably your boss or someone important you’re dealing with at work. By you speaking your truth (which may be unexpected), you’re causing a Tower in this person’s world.

Feelings: 4 Pentacles

They have very negative feelings towards you, pessimistic, guarded, generally bewildered and kinda pissed off, though they try to save face and probably act appropriately as best as they can. With The Moon here, they don’t understand you, what your deal is, why you’re doing whatever you’re doing. They probably think you’re crazy and just want to stay away from you, you’re like a wild card to this person.

Intentions: Page of Swords

They do intend to talk with you, in a very detached and truth seeking manner. Friendly enough but there’s no emotion in it. You may have done something that has to be responded to with some level of discipline, a write up, things like that. They do intend to be kind about it, while still getting their point nailed in.

Actions: 10 Swords

It’s very possible you’re losing a job. Or leaving one. You could feel as if you’ve been stabbed in the back and betrayed. With you apologizing in messages, I assume you’ve done something wrong and it’s not just a budget cut or something like that. You’re deeply disappointed by this 10 Swords that’s happening, and it’s directly connected to your money (Ace of Pentacles) and job (8 Pentacles). Whoever this is, blames you. Sorry mate 🙏

Messages:

Their side:

- I just don’t know what to say.

- Short hair

- STATUS 💰

Your side:

- Curvy girl/boy

- I wont go backwards, only forwards.

- I’m SORRY 😣

Possible signs:

Gemini, Scorpio & Pisces

If you’re dealing with:

9 Cups shows you feeling like your wishes are being fulfilled and your dreams are coming true on many levels in your life and relationships. Other people may be mirroring this sort of energy in you as well, which is the best kind of energy to have!

Aries - very in & out, when it’s on it’s 🔥 and then it’s dead silent and…what do they even want??

Taurus - taking their time because they’re conflicted about the best option for them

Gemini - silent as the grave & no growth there

Cancer - heartbroken that it’s over

Leo - in love with an earth sign, could be meeting their love at work, whether that’s you or not idk

Virgo - motivated to overcome their issues & burdens, whether you’re involved or not

Libra - missed opportunity in love but they might try to talk to you or gain clarity on that

Scorpio - pessimistic about you, doesn’t have faith the two of you can be happy together

Sagittarius - feels inspired to be greedy or that’s switched, if either of you have fkboy/girl vibes then that’s a major issue with them

Capricorn - intelligently going over whether something is worth it or not, likely to choose the most logical route, which is…waiting, could be lapses in communication between you

Aquarius - work is going well but they need to get out more, probably same as you

Pisces - victory & success with this one, a lot of love between you, could be a soulmate 💘

[keefwho]

December 18 - 2022

10:07 AM

Right now I feel like cracking down and getting all the Christmas things done that I can. It’s unrealistic but I will use this feeling to be productive for a bit. It would be nice if this feeling stayed for awhile. 

11:38 AM

Im getting that feeling again, that I’m unwanted/unthought about. But there’s got to be a way to combat it. I think it’s a matter of defusing from these thoughts I’m having. They are made up in my head, not based on anything. In some way I’m using them so I can feel sorry for myself/farm sympathy from others because thats easy to do. In reality I know my friends care about me and don’t message because they are either busy or are like me and might be afraid of bothering me. It would be healthy if I could be alone and not feel lonely because I know people care about me even if we aren’t together. Bestie time will happen, just not at this moment. 

12:58 PM

IM STRESSING fuck. I have to force myself not to. Its the weekend so I should be chillin. Tomorrow is the time for commissions and other projects. I’ll do what I can with that time and hope for the best. The weekend is so I can give myself a real break and do things that will help me develop who I am as a person. 

Recap

Today was okay, the evening was nice. This morning I worked on a Christmas gift that I’m feeling slightly more confident about. I played some Citystate and at some point had to take it easy because my tummy was acting up a little bit. It was only about a 3/10 and a specific kind of upset that I knew would pass soon. In the afternoon I had some wonderful chill bestie time and completely finished BOTW. I’m really sad because that game was a sort of crutch for so long that I would bank on when I didn’t feel good. It was my cozy game for when my tummy hurt too bad or when I’d get sad/lonely. Now it’s over and I almost cried at the group picture at the end of the DLC. I started Earthbound today which I knew I’d enjoy, and I am. It’ll be a nice replacement chill game. It’s just mindless enough that I don’t have to be in the right headspace to play it and have fun. My tummy was weird this evening too but I refused to let it stop me from chilling. 

I HATE talking about my stomach so much. I fear that bringing it up as often as I do contributes to the problem. I think I should stay silent about smaller events to try and make them even more insignificant. The whole point about my growth is for my stomach to stop ruling my life. Part of that will be to stop talking about it eventually. I’ll try to only bring it up for notable events rather than the near daily “slightly upset.” 

Tomorrow I hope to feel good so I can crack down on all the things I need to do. Tonight I feel like I should have the energy and drive to do good work tomorrow. I never know until I actually get there though. Either way I’ll do my best. 

I started wondering why sometimes I have extreme but brief periods of depression like a couple days ago. Usually it’s only a day or two but I get pretty bad. My leading theory is that fundamentally I lack mental stability and sometimes it comes crashing down. I can imagine it like a kind of stamina bar. If I’m being slowly drained by things like my own negative thoughts or external factors like having a bad day in general, eventually I have to give in. I can almost feel this happening. A couple days ago up until the afternoon I felt like I was just holding out until things eased up or I crashed, and I ended up crashing after a few more things went wrong than I expected. The only way to avoid a crash would be to stop whatever is draining me at the root which is usually a deep and long term issue I need to work on. I don’t get giga sad often enough for this to be a problem to focus on though. Its just something I’m aware of. 

Today I had the idea of making a JRPG with one of those streamlined RPG makers. Realistically I doubt I have time for it and unless I keep feeling passionate about it, I’ll drop the idea. I’d love to use it to process and vent life events though, I think it could be extremely useful for that. It would be a way to show people including my friends the kinds of things I think and feel in an artistic way. Personally it would be helpful to try to reprocess and re-tell unpleasant events from my past. If it turns out to be easier than I expect then maybe this could be a long term project. 

[qierxing]

Indirection

Yan!Octavinelle Trio x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

And like the waves of the ocean, you float and sway, unknowing of your next destination.

CW/TW: Water play? Drowning play? Idk how to describe it 

—

Despite what you may have thought of Octavinelle, Mostro Lounge is pretty cool. The underwater aquarium-like cafe has great interior decoration and ambience, there’s soft jazzy music floating through the walls perfect for relaxing, and the drinks and food served are pretty tasty. If you wanted to complain, there were the rather expensive prices, the weird fine-print rules that the cafe had, but otherwise it was trumped by the fact that it is a good cafe that is well run.

You just wish you could enjoy it right now without a certain owner.

“I’m glad you came. We were getting quite lonely, you see.” Azul’s million thaumark smile is blinding to the eyes but you’re well aware of how much of a charade it is. He sent you a subtle message earlier that if you didn’t show yourself at the lounge, he would make you.

“Tragic.” Came your dry reply as you idly stir your sea salt mango cocktail. The salt sparkles under the ultramarine light of the water while the drink turns sunset with the sweet syrup. You eye the tall glass and wonder if you could chug it.

You wish Grim came with you.

“Now, now, why the sour response? I think you’ll want to listen to what I have to say.” He pushes his glasses up, making it glint under the lights. 

Azul was only dangerous if you gave him a reason to be dangerous. Your darkest secret, a deep desire, a hidden fear: only if you gave him a whiff of the blood in the water, would he begin to hunt. But right now, he was merely a…motivated businessman. An upperclassman who was looking out for you.

Your eyebrow quirks. Azul’s eyes glimmer and you swear his pupils stretch in a manner that sends shivers down your spine.

“Let’s make a deal.”

“No.” You retort instantly. After the overblot fiasco, you promised yourself you would never again make a deal with the cunning housewarden, no matter what. Besides, what could he even offer that you would want? “Didn’t you promise to the headmaster not to use your signature spell?” 

He tuts, waving a finger. “Let me finish.” You narrow your eyes but don’t interrupt.

“You’re searching for a way home, correct?” Your hand stops stirring your drink immediately. How…?

“What do you mean?”

“No need to play dumb,” Azul laces his fingers together and smirks, “you’re not exactly a person that fits in Twisted Wonderland. And your…circumstances are very special in NRC.”

You don’t reply, eyes sharpened to pinpoint pricks.

“I’m proposing a deal that would get you to the home you desire.” His smirk remains unchanging. “Well? Are you interested?”

“And the catch…?” What would he ask of you this time? Undying loyalty to him? A year of working non-stop at Mostro? A priceless magical artifact? No deals this good were made without a steep price, as Leona has oh so graciously warned you before.

He holds out a finger in explanation. “You are to spend at least an hour in Mostro with me and the Leech twins each day, up until the day you head home.” 

So he wants you to work. “As a server or someone in the kitchen?” 

He pauses in surprise, then begins laughing. Taken aback, you wonder what you said was funny. 

“My dear prefect, you would not need to work. You would just…be keeping us company. Unless you would like to work?” He chuckles, and you shake your head slowly.

Keep them company? What would he get out of that?

“Well? Do we have a deal?” He leans in with his gloved hand outstretched. His silvery blue eyes reflect the lamps above and you pause. Was this really a good idea?

"What about the payment?"

"For this one time…I'll consider this a generous favor. On the house."

When would a chance like this come around? You’ve seen how Crowley avoids answering your questions about whether he’s found a way back to your world. Books from the library have turned up nothing. Asking others has led you to look like a complete raving lunatic. You don’t want to entertain the thought that you may be stranded here, never to see your family and friends ever again.

“It’s a deal.” When you shake his hand, you feel him grip yours tightly, as if to cement the agreement into your skin. 

The feeling of a guillotine above your head rises as you sign the glimmering golden contract Azul produces.

-

You thought the brisk morning jog would rid you of the anxiety left yesterday, but it didn’t; even after it left you huffing and puffing out clouds of white air around you in the chilly morning. Dead leaves crunch under you as you try to walk off the adrenaline running through your veins. The sky remains gloomy and gray, an incoming sign of a rainy day. 

“You made a deal with Azul?!” Jack growls with his ears flat on his head. “Did you learn nothing from last time?!”

“Shut it, Jack,” You sigh, wiping sweat off your brow. “I don’t need a lecture right now. Ashengrotto said he’d find me a way home. If he can do it, then that’s all I care about.”

The silence lingers and you thought that was it. You shift from foot to foot while breathing out a long sigh.

“Are you going to tell the others?” You freeze.

You should. Grim deserves to know, along with Ace and Deuce, who have been there with you since the beginning. Despite their shenanigans and hot-headedness, they are your friends.

But you don’t know if you have the courage to tell them that you’re leaving. Especially not to Grim, your first companion in this world, and the one who has been there with you through thick and thin. 

Jack takes one look at your conflicted face and scoffs. “Seriously?”

“I’ll tell them eventually.”

He shakes his head, squatting to rest his legs. “Is being in Twisted Wonderland that bad?”

You remain silent, trembling from the effort it takes to hold back your emotions.

“No kind of deal is worth it to-”

“Shut up.” He turns his head to you, fists clenched and eyes leaking tears.

(You do sometimes wonder if you are insane. You often wake up in the middle of night to rattling windows and creaking metal and think you're in a nightmare.

You wonder if you would ever wake up in your own home again.)

You rub your face furiously, falling and covering your face within your arms and knees.

“I’m scared, Jack.” You hiccup. “What if I can’t go back?”

The silence in the cold air lays heavy and still. Jack looks away, a deep frown etched in his face.

-

“Your eyes are red, shrimpy,” Floyd’s face is up in yours as soon as you step into the Mostro Lounge. “D’ya want me to beat up somebody?”

“What? No!” You rub at your eyes, self conscious now that Floyd pointed it out.

“There you are. Azul reserved you a table.” Jade appears at his brother’s side, extending a polite hand. You regard it for a skeptical moment before deciding to take it. The two escort you to a more private area where one of the booths is occupied by none other than your contract holder.

“If it isn’t our dear prefect.” Azul’s smile reveals none of his intentions. “Come, sit.”

You stiffly slide into the seat pulled out for you. "Thanks."

A silence stretches out for a couple of seconds. You drum your fingers on the table. Another unbearable second passes.

"So…what do you want me to do?" You break first, already bored out of your mind. Even working at the lounge as a server was better than…well, making awkward eye contact with Azul.

He coughs, his pale face becoming an interesting shade of pink. "I just want to talk. How have you been?"

You're left speechless. Are you dreaming? Azul has always been ruthlessly efficient in his actions–the past 'generous' deals he's made has shown he cares not for his fellow students if it means he could come out of it with a reward to elevate him higher than before. Many swindled students in the past have called him heartless and conniving in their many insults. And although he has promised to turn over a new leaf, it was hard to shake his old habits. Sometimes you wonder if he ever grew tired of viewing the world in gains and losses.

And yet, here he is, asking after you.

"Are you trying to see if I'm doing poorly in class?"

"Goodness, I most certainly am not! But if you put it that way–"

"I don't want your help." His face immediately darkens, stormy and foreboding. You swallow. Manners and fear be damned, you wouldn't take his help. Even if it left you on his bad side. "I don't need it."

"But you'll go to that mutt's side to grovel for assistance?" Mutt? Is he talking about-

"Jack? What does he have to do with this?" Subconsciously, your fingers rub at your raw eyes and Azul's eyes narrow at the gesture. 

"So, even if he made you cry, you still insist on defending him." You flinch. All earlier bashfulness and shyness is completely gone, and before you is the calculating magician you've come to know. You would like to be relieved since it's more familiar to see, but even then, it was hard to predict what thoughts could be going through that head of his.

You bite your tongue. If he was going to sit there and insult one of the few friends you could trust in this forsaken place, then you have no intention of staying any longer. 

But as you go to stand up, you're just as quickly shoved back down and restrained by two familiar sets of hands.

When Floyd cackles, you realize who has tattled on you. You can only glare at him as the twin eels force you to stay still in your chair. 

"Nope, nope! It hasn't been an hour yet, little shrimpy!" He sing-songs in that infuriating voice of his.

"You have another half an hour left, prefect." Jade chimes in cheerfully.

You scowl, trying to worm your way out of the tight grip but to no avail. You should've remembered that Azul always had them take care of his more unruly clients. Now, more than ever, you are starting to regret that deal you've made.

"What are you playing at, Ashengrotto?" You snarl at the smug man in front of you.

He laughs, and the Leech twins join in, their laughter growing into a cacophony that grates on your ears. He finally calms down enough to smirk at you while chuckling. 

"Darling, we are just helping you get what you want."

-

When you get back home, you'll never go to a beach or aquarium ever again.

It gives some consolation as you're flanked by your newest cuffs: the Leech twins. Ever since you signed that damned contract, they've squirmed into your schedule and made themselves home, against your will. No doubt on their friend’s orders.

You don't know what Azul is thinking. Assigning the Leech twins to make your already miserable school life hell, making sure you were 'spending time' in the lounge, what was this supposed to amount to? All this time spent on you is time lost for mulling over how he could come out with new schemes.

“Why don’t you take a swim with them for a change? The lounge is closed, so the two of them are dying for a swim.” He had smirked at you with a wave of his hand, and before you could protest, Floyd was happily dragging you into the changing room.

"Surely you know how to swim." Jade's smile feels much more sinister than usual as he casually reaches for your ankle. You swiftly step back before he could succeed. "You've done it before. It wouldn’t do for you to forget now."

"That was different." Uneasily you scooch back on the narrow cliff dividing the shore and the deep water of Mostro's aquarium. It’s unnerving how you can’t see the bottom of the pool.

Jade's fins twitch as he grins, flashing jagged teeth as he wiggles his finger webs.  "Are you scared, dear?"

Again, with the endearment. With the staring grew into the name calling, and now it's grown to dragging you into hellish situations. You suppose that's something the three of them had in common.

Water blinds your senses and you're left spluttering as gleeful laughter echoes in the tank. Another head surfaces next to Jade, eyes flickering with mischievousness. You scrunch your face as you wipe the salt water off. 

“Very funny, Floyd.” You mumble, your eyes closed to avoid getting exposed to harsh salt.

Unfortunately, that left you wide open for an attack.

With a yell, you’re dragged within the depths and plunged into icy cold waters. You move your arms frantically, but everything seems to be dragging you down, down within the tank. Your chest feels heavy and you try to swim back up for air, but before you can, a mouth is slammed onto yours, forcing it open and giving you air. Your eyes slam open to see heterochromatic eyes staring into yours with an intensity that makes you shake. After several blinks, you realize it’s Jade who you’re lip locked with.

You can’t even push him away, since he was your only air source. Something tangles in your feet and in your peripheral, you see Floyd wrapping around your legs, winding, squeezing. Your eyes frantically move, looking for any way to escape but instead they catch onto silver blue.

Azul is standing on the other side of the glass, watching. Observing. 

The eye contact is broken when you hear Floyd whining to his brother and to your fright, he removes his lips from you. Your eyes shut again when another pair of lips take over. Except unlike his brother, Floyd doesn’t just leave it at locking lips. His teeth draws blood from your tongue as he nibbles, voracious for the taste of food. You fear that he may end up eating you all up from the inside.

His tail squeezes around your legs once more and you black out.

When you finally come to, you’re in Azul’s bed and dried off, somehow. The twins are nowhere to be seen, and the housewarden frets and fusses over you, giving you towels and heated blankets. You want to think the past hour was a bad nightmare. A weird hallucination. Anything but reality.

But clotted blood drips down your split lips and swollen tongue, and you don’t miss how Azul’s eyes hungrily traces the path it makes down your chin.

You begin to wonder if Jack was right after all.

-

Early morning classes were the worst. Early alchemy labs? Absolute hell.

Ace had been assigned your partner, but it was clear he had long lost attention. You watch incredulously as he almost takes a face-first dive into the cauldron. Unfortunately, that left you to take care of the sleeping potion that Crewel assigned you both. You elbow Grim awake before he could join Ace in sleeping. With a long sigh, you stir slowly as instructed, wishing the lab could be over already. 

The door slams open, making everyone turn their heads to see Crowley. Crewel starts to scold the headmaster for causing an unnecessary disturbance, but instead of starting to go around poking his nose into what each student was doing, like he normally does, he walks straight up to you.

"Prefect, I need you in my office. Now." And without another word, turned his back.

"Ooh, someone's in trouble," Ace snickers, now fully awake after the commotion. "What'd ya do this time huh?

“Hey, shaddup! Whatcha mean, this time?!” Grim yowls, but before he can start a fight you pick him up to follow after the headmaster.

The floating faces of the Seven greet you as you follow the headmage in. Despite the many times you’ve been summoned here, you never could get used to how intimidating the portraits were. And as they stare down in judgment, you wait in dread on Crowley's verdict.

"I found the way to send you back to your world." Disbelief courses through you as you process the statement.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Hope begins to rise as you smile joyfully. Finally! You’ll be able to return home after all! The next words the headmaster speaks has lulled into a dull blur as you realize that Grim is silent. When you turn to look at him, he looks destroyed. Staring, as if time has stopped functioning. Crouching down to his level, you reach out and pet his head.

“Hey, you’ll be fine, Grim. You’re gonna be a great sorcerer even without me.” 

“Of course I will! But…” He looks down. “I…”

You know what he wants to say. I don’t want you to go. His pride won’t let him say it. But you know. 

So instead, you hug him as tightly as you can and pray that it will be enough.

-

When you step into Mostro Lounge, it is silent. 

It’s rare for the cafe to be still. Quiet, yes, with some students murmuring around here and there. But silent? 

You should’ve known that silence meant trouble.

“Has (First) suspected anything?” Your hand freezes on the door to Azul’s office. 

“No. They have not seemed to have caught on to our plan.” With a chill, you recognize Jade’s level voice responding, answering to his housewarden.

“Good. How are preparations on the home?” 

“Had to scare the guy a little bit…but the place should be ours for good, kyhehe.” Floyd’s devious snickers send another icy chill down your spine. 

You begin to step back from the door.  

“Excellent. Soon enough we can have them move in with us, just as planned.”

Bile rises through you. Before you know it, you’re rushing to the bathroom, heaving in the toilets. Your throat stings and your tongue is left with acrid bitterness. 

Azul was a businessman. He only has power if you give him it.

With this in mind, you head back to the office again.

Thankfully, it is only Azul inside. Azul, you can deal with. You do not know what you would do if Jade and Floyd were there too. 

You do not give indication that you have heard any of the previous conversation. Instead, when you first stride in, you resolve to cut ties as cleanly as you can.

“I would like to dissolve my contract.” 

It certainly was not what Azul was expecting when you showed yourself. “Wh-what–”

You don’t allow him to try to negotiate. To do so would be acknowledging he has power over you. He doesn’t. Not anymore than he used to. “The headmage said he’s found the way for me to go back to my world.”

You see his own world collapse in on itself within his eyes a second time.

"No, no you can't, you can't! You made a deal with me! You can't go off on your own–" He's choking, grabbing onto your sleeves, your collar, anywhere he can reach to keep you anchored in one spot. 

"Azul, what the hell has gotten–" You stammer as you nearly fall under the force of his grip, "–into you?!” If you didn't know any better, it was like he was the one drowning instead of you, desperate to latch on to any floating surface. 

“Don’t go, please don’t go…” Azul is weeping, sobbing at your waist with a bowed head. Defeated and broken. But unlike before, you can’t bring yourself to forgive him. Even when he cries your name oh so prettily, you cannot find the heart to comfort him.

“You lied to me, Azul.” Your voice is low and even. You want to hurl the words at him, make it hurt as much as possible.. “You said you would find a way home for me.”

“It’s because I love you!” The words are spat in delirious infatuation. His teary face looks up at you, and he brings you in closer as you struggle. “I love you, can’t you see?! Everything I do, I do for you!”

So you would have me give up my own life for you? You want to laugh in his face. What nonsense. Such sentiments belonged in romance novels and movies, not in real life. You’re finally free of his arms after one final shove that sends him to the ground.

“You don’t know what love is.” The leftover bile surfaces in your mouth. “And I sure as hell don’t love you.”

“Hmm, not even us?” Your heart stops at the carefree voice behind you. 

“My, my, what a mess we have here.” A click of tongue by your left side. Your gaze at anything but the sobbing man in front of you.

“This won’t do. It seems we’ll have to clean this up right away.” 

Your last moments are filled with a fear unlike any other times before. It’s not fear of the three, no. For all of their feared reputations, it paled in comparison to one horrifying thought.

It’s the fear of realizing that you may never be able to go home after all. 

[beautiful-songbird]

Pretty Girl

Pairing: Idol!Taehyung x Model!OC

Genre: fluff

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: body insecurities...like a lot of them, and probably slightly suggestive? They directly mention sex at one point idk

Summary: Zelda's stuggling with liking herself again, and Tae makes it his personal mission to make her feel better. Cue twenty minutes of him just loving on her.

Some days, time seemed to tick by slowly when Zelda sat at home.  She was used to the crammed and busy hours of the modeling workday, so the single task of taking care of a household – or condo, in this case – was simply hard for her to get used to.  Dinner didn’t take all day to make, so what was she supposed to do with her time?  Most of the rest of the girls worked or were otherwise busy taking care of their own places, and in the case of Astrid, she still lived on the other side of the world.  So, what was Zelda to do with her time?

On top of all of this, she had two burdens hanging over her head.  She’d gained weight, which despite what Tae told her, she was still mightily insecure about because of how she’d been chastised for it before.  Despite this, she still wanted to model.  She missed modeling.  It fed some innate hunger in her for positive attention, and in the years she’d spent in the industry, she’d concluded that the only way to do that was through her looks.

It was silly, really.  She had lots of friends who adored her, but every time she made a new friend, she feared they’d leave her.  Even Tae.  She knew deep down that she’d found some real friends, but it had been a long time running that she’d been told she was too ‘odd’ to be friends with.  She’d tried to dial down her personality for a while, but she’d realized that felt worse than people telling her she was weird.  So, she was back to square one.  The fear of losing friends while simultaneously being unwilling to sacrifice herself.

On the bright side, clothes could always mend an aching heart.  For her, at least.  That didn’t really mean buying clothes, though.  It meant going to all the high-end stores and trying things on just because she could.  Of course, she could’ve bought them, but she’d always been a bit of a nitpick when it came to clothes she’d actually wear.  Sure, she’d model clothes of all sorts, but when it came to everyday life, there was a very small selection of things she felt comfortable in.

This only meant one thing – Tae’s phone was always pinging with new photos she’d taken in the dressing room.

“Hate the texture, but it’s pretty at least.

“I wouldn’t wear this out of the house, but maybe for you?” paired with a winking emoji.

“I might buy this one.  Pretty flowers, right?

“I think this one would look better on you, honestly.

“Date night?

“This one says I’m stealing your jacket by the end of the night.

“I hate sequins.  Hate.

“I think this one would look better over a swimsuit than as an actual dress?

“Again, stealing your jacket.

“What do you think of this one?”

Tae smiled after picking up his phone and scrolling through all the messages.

“You look pretty in all of them, sweetheart.  Are you going to buy any of them?”

“I bought four of them.  The price tag on the last one made me want to cry, but it was too pretty.”

“You shopping for that photoshoot we talked about doing?”

“Haha…no.  I got bored this afternoon.  I’m running out of time-consuming dishes to make.”

“I see.  We need to have a baby soon so you have less time on your hands.”

“Tae!”

“I’m kidding.  Unless…?

“I’m coming home in half an hour.  We have a date with my camera, ok?”

Zelda grinned at her phone.  He was so persistent.

“Ok.  See you then.”

◇◆◇◆◇

There was something different about being styled when your husband was the one pinching at your sides and setting his hands on your shoulders to turn you towards the mirror, but Zelda wasn’t sure what was so different about it.

“All right, what do you think?  Pretty enough to walk the runway?”

Zelda grinned at her reflection in the mirror. “Definitely.  I don’t recognize this dress, though?  Where did you get it?”

He shrugged, pulling his tie off as he walked towards their closet. “I bought it on my way home.  I thought I should pick something out for you to wear if we’re going to do an actual photoshoot.”

“Oh,” Zelda breathed before looking at herself in the mirror again.  The man had great taste.  It was a mostly white dress, and it was flowy in all the right places while still keeping her shape. “It covers my belly well.”

Tae popped his head out of the closet and looked over her frame. “You’re right.  It does.  I erred when picking that out, then.”

She laughed, a bit embarrassed. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I think your stomach is cute.  I shouldn’t have bought something that hid it so well.”

He stated it as if it were something obvious, and then he went back to digging through their closet for his own outfit.

“Tae, I told you before that you don’t need to lie to me.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s ok….”

“Of course, I don’t.  I’m not going to lie to you and say that I don’t like how soft your belly is.  I’m not going to say that you don’t make the best pillow and that I don’t enjoy just patting your stomach.  Didn’t you tell me once that you liked it better when I didn’t have abs?  So why should it be any different for me?”

She hummed. “I don’t know.  I just don’t particularly like the way I look, so I don’t see how you do either.”

He emerged from the closet a moment later, pulling his shirt on as he did so. “I find you very attractive.” He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his head against hers. “Look at that pretty girl in the mirror.  Those pretty eyes.  This pretty nose,” he tapped her nose. “And these pretty lips.” He kissed her cheek, being in such a position that he couldn’t kiss her on the lips.  He poked her sides next. “And look at this pretty body.  I know girls who would love to have your body.  There’s something here for me to hold onto, too.” He squeezed her waist then. “What’s not to love?”

She smiled shyly at him. “I….”

“Sweetheart, I don’t understand what you don’t like here.”

She shrugged. “I dunno.  Everything?  My chest is too big, my hips are too wide.  You already know I don’t like my stomach.”

He leaned closer to her, this time nibbling on the shell of her ear. “And I’m sure you know how much I like that you’ve gained weight.  You weren’t eating enough before, sweetheart.  That’s why you were so tiny.  And that’s not good.  You know that, right?”

She nodded hesitantly, tears biting her eyes.

“Don’t you remember how bad you felt then?” He nuzzled his nose in her hair, doing his best to not sound like he was chastising her. “You were always crying.  You didn’t feel good, I know you didn’t.  Was that really worth it to have that body?”

“No,” she admitted quietly.  She was staring at the floor now as she played with her fingers. “I like how much better I feel now.”

“Mhm.  I bet you do.  Anything else you’ve noticed has changed?”

She shrugged. “I’m happier now.”

“Are you?”

She nodded. “Part of it is because I don’t feel so lonely anymore, but most of it is because I’m not starving all the time.”

“Do you enjoy that?”

“Yeah.”

“Another thing?”

She cleared her throat, still avoiding eye contact with him. “It hurts less to sit down.”

He chuckled quietly. “It hurt before?”

“Yeah.  I didn’t have enough cushioning….”

“Anything else?”

She hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“That’s ok.  Can I ask another thing?”

She glanced up at him in the mirror. “Yeah.”

“How do you feel about your looks now?”

She settled her eyes on her own figure this time, and she had to admit how warm inside it made her feel to have Tae cradling her against his chest, no matter how embarrassed she was that he had to have this conversation with her.

“I…can you talk about what you like again?”

“You name something you like first.”

“Um…I have pretty arms?”

He nodded, reaching up to squeeze one of said arms. “You do.”

“You say something now,” she requested quietly.

“Hmm…” his fingers ghosted over her body as they traveled up and down for a few moments.  Finally, he settled his fingers against her stomach and wiggled them ever so softly, making her squirm. “I still think your belly is so pretty.” He smiled. “Ok.  Your turn again.”

She settled her hands over his to keep him from tickling her again as she considered herself.

“My hair is nice.”

“Oh, it definitely is.” He buried his nose in her hair again. “Such pretty curls you have here.”

She giggled.

“I know you said you don’t like your chest…but I like it.” He lowered his voice. “A lot.”

She poked at his hands that were still settled around her waist. “You just like squishing me, don’t you?  I see your goal here.”

He grinned. “You caught me.  I like having a soft and squishy wife.” This prompted more waist squeezing from those fingers of his. “Ok.  You’ve gotta say something else you like now.”

She sighed. “Do I have to?”

“Zel….”

“Ok, ok, ok.  Fine.  Um.” She stared at herself for a long spell of time, this time taking notice of the things that Tae had pointed out.  She had to admit that while she didn’t like them, she did like how much he did.  It felt so right for him to enjoy those parts of her that she wasn’t even upset that they were there anymore.

She finally cleared her throat. “I like my eyes.”

He nodded, as if her observation had been the most obvious one in the world. “Another one now.”

She pouted. “You’re not going to say one?”

“Nope.  I need you to say another one first.”

She seemed slightly agitated by this, furrowing her eyebrows as she stared at herself again.  A few moments passed before she shook her head. “I don’t know, Tae.”

“Ok.  Just look at yourself as a whole.  You’re pretty, right?”

“I…am.” She reasoned finally. “Just…not as pretty as I feel like I should be.”

“What can we do to fix that?”

“Makeup…would help.”

“Would it?”

She nodded, feeling less insecure about her body now and more about her face.

“And after we fix that, will we need to fix something else?”

She hesitated. “I don’t know.  I…I don’t think I’m going to be 100% happy with myself by the end of the day no matter what we do, Tae.”

He hummed, resting his lips against the crown of her head. “How about we stop looking in the mirror for now, then?  We can head out and take some pictures, and I can do all the looking at you.”

She smiled softly. “Ok.  I think I’d like that.”

◇◆◇◆◇

She loved it even more than she’d expected to.  Tae, ever her hype man, was convinced that she looked absolutely stunning from every angle, and despite the fact that she knew she’d disagree with him once she saw the photos, she let his words make her feel good anyways.

Before they left, she’d insisted on taking a few of him, too.  He was always gorgeous, especially today with all the kind words he’d fed her heart.  Maybe she needed a little something to remind her someday of everything he’d said today.

“See, look at that one,” he grinned, showing her one of the photos he’d taken as they walked back to their car. “Stunning.  It’s a wonder how I got to marry someone so beautiful.”

And she had to admit…she absolutely glowed in the photo.  He’d been saying something to her when he’d taken the photo, she knew that much.  Whatever it had been, it had made her light up like the noonday sun.  She had the biggest grin on her face, and the lighting was doing her all sorts of favors.

Tae grabbed her hand and swung it as they walked along. “This is fun.  We should do this more often.” He glanced down at her. “I especially love having you as my muse.”

She smiled, her face flushing.  She didn’t even know what to say to everything he was saying today.  He was just full of sweet things to say today, and it was making her bones melt.  She knew how amazed he was that he’d gotten to marry her, but she felt even more privileged than he.

The compliments didn’t stop once they got home that evening.  They’d run out of time to make dinner, so the two of them sat on the couch eating takeout.  He’d insisted that she sit on his lap while they ate despite how this complicated things, and then the two of them had headed to their bedroom just to lounge around for the night.  The two of them had ended up in barely any clothes as they prepared for bed, and this led to even more compliments spilling from Tae’s lips.

“Look at this pretty tummy.” He buried his face against said tummy.

She giggled, rubbing her fingers over his scalp. “I love you, Tae.”

He grinned, turning to look up at her. “I love you too.” He patted her hip.

“You’re very touchy today.”

“Well, my wife is feeling insecure about her body, and I need to let her know that I think it is a very pretty body.”

“You think so?”

He gave an “mhm” that sounded more like a purr, making her giggle again. “What do you think about making a baby tonight?”

“I dunno, Tae…do we really need one of those right now?”

“I think so.  I’m looking forward to a miniature you running around our place.  We’ve gotta have someone to fill these bedrooms.”

She laughed. “I think the likelihood of any of our babies looking like me is very low.”

“Nah.  If we have enough of them, surely at least one of them will look like you.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“We won’t know until we try.”

This earned another laugh from her. “Do you actually want to make a baby, or do you just want to have sex?”

He clearly had already thought about this, because his answer was immediate. “Both.”

“I see how it is.”

The two of them were silent for a few moments before Zelda spoke again. “Thank you for today.  You made me feel a lot better.”

“Did I?”

“Mhm.  You made me feel very pretty today.  I haven’t felt that way in a long while.”

“Really?” he asked, frowning. “I need to compliment you more often, then.”

She shook her head. “It’s ok.  Today you just…it was so nice, Tae.  Thank you.”

He lifted his head off her stomach before climbing to the top of the bed so that he could lean over her.

“You know I always think you’re beautiful, right?”

She stared up at him. “I know.  You’ve made that very apparent, even if not with words.”

“Good.  I always want to make sure you know.  I married such a pretty girl; I can’t just let her forget how pretty she is.”

She reached up and cupped his face in her hands, rubbing her thumbs over his cheekbones. “And I married the most darling man.” She was close to tears now. “You make me feel so adored, Tae.  Thank you.”

He grinned and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “You don’t need to thank me.  You’re so easy to adore.”

That was all it took to get the tears flowing. “Am I?”

“Definitely.  You’re the most adore-able person in the world.”

She grinned widely, trying to ignore the tears streaming down her temples.  He reached up and brushed one of those tears away before tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“You’re so, so pretty.  I don’t know how someone didn’t snatch you up before me.”

“None of them were you,” she replied simply. “No one wanted me, but you did.  You wanted the grumpy girl who would barely talk to you.”

“Of course,” he nodded. “You were the one girl who didn’t put on a show for me.  You were just you, no matter who I was.”

She smiled, pulling him in for another kiss. “You wanna make that baby now?”

This is part of the Dad!BTS series that can be found here

A/N: and hence…Zoro was born. Ahahaha I spent like 98% of this fic melting into the carpet so excuse me while I go attempt to reform myself or however you treat melted candle wax.

It would be greatly appreciated if you reblogged the story if you liked it!

Taglist: @jiminie-and-his-pinky-finger @jinnie-forthe-winnie @thornedswan @kookstempo @fly-you-dam-fools @aianloveseven @armys-dna

[phoenixyfriend]

Anakin Assists the Jedi Council While On Medical Leave

AU brainstormed primarily by @atagotiak, @gelpenss, and myself.

Basically, a fix-it based in Anakin getting a peek into the daily life on the Council early, and accidentally Figuring Some Shit Out along the way, mostly because Palps Fucks Up.

So, Anakin gets injured in a way that limits him to Coruscant for a few weeks. He can still walk and talk, but he can't fight. The specific injury doesn't matter, just this:

Anakin runs errands on behalf of the council and sits in on meetings to take minutes as a "you're on medical leave but we need all hands on deck, congrats you get to be the secretary until we can send you on stabbing missions again" thing.

Also, there just aren't a whole lot of people with Anakin's clearance level. They had to send out Stass Allie to handle the mission that was originally next on Anakin's roster, and Anakin's the most convenient person to substitute into her position.

He's not super happy about this but he can more or less understand the point of it. Given that he gets antsy about needing to fight almost immediately, he can acknowledge the worth of having something useful to do, if only as the person who's writing down who says what and making sure everyone has the right file on hand.

(Besides, Obi-Wan jokes in a way that Anakin thinks might be encouraging, this is good practice if Anakin ever wants to be on the High Council himself!)

(This is a very helpful conversation.)

BASICALLY, Anakin is resigned to this but agrees because "Usually we have Master Allie handle this but we need her running that mission that was originally set for the 501st, so you get to fill in for her until you can switch back. Think of it as training for eventual mastery or admin or--listen, we're just really stretched thin."

Here's the key thing, though: Anakin isn't supposed to leave the Temple, for medical reasons, so Palpatine doesn't know Anakin is sitting in on Council meetings. They haven't met up since Anakin's last surgery, and because [muffled hand-wave reason] he didn't find out another way, like Anakin comming him or the Council giving him the heads-up about the change in attendance.

It's fine. He's just taking notes and doing preparatory research, he has the clearance, the Chancellor likes him anyway. Hell, they'd have had someone's Padawan doing this, before the war increased the necessary clearance levels. They'll toss in a quick message in the brief they send to Palps that he never reads anyway, and that's really all they need to do. Skywalker's getting some rounded experience and this way the medics won't be freaking out about him stressing his heart after getting electrocuted by trying to spar too early.

Palpatine doesn't talk directly to the Council, he just sends a recording the first time Anakin is there. It's a bit weird, but nothing goes wrong. Anakin's off-screen from whatever device they use to send a response, since he's not technically a member, just assisting for a bit on the part of Master Allie's duties that he's actually allowed to touch (and not the bits that are getting added to Mace, Plo, and Shaak's stuff).

The first four or so meetings are like that. Anakin starts having a bit of sympathy for the Council as he sees how many things they want to do that are hampered by the need for Senatorial approval, things that he would also want to do and didn't think required this much red tape.

About a week in, still mostly recordings with Anakin just sitting on the side playing paralegal, the wheel of fortune turns a few pegs.

Palpatine hands over a an order on the range of injury that a soldier should be treated for, "to ensure that republic resources aren't being wasted on clones that, while expensive, would actually be cheaper to replace than repair."

Oh, he dresses it up in prettier language than that. Anakin doesn't process it as such first.

The Chancellor manages to couch his phrasing in "prioritizing resources for taxpaying republic citizens and employees of the GAR," which... well.

The natborn commissioned officers pay taxes. The Jedi are employees. The clones are neither, because they're slaves.

Probably he frames it as the employees thing, very much the kinda language that sounds halfway ok unless you’re fluent in political bullshit.

And Anakin is really confused at first about why the council is upset by the order because, okay, he would PREFER to be able to use medical supplies on refugees when possible, but he understands prioritizing the soldiers?

He just looks up, totally lost, when someone groans and goes, "That's the third time this year, is he trying to get us all killed?"

And it vibes as such a genuine, aggrieved, sad reaction that Anakin is completely blindsided because it's not the sarcastic, petty resentment he kind of expected? It's just... desperate depression.

And someone gently has to explain that this is the third time they've had resources restricted to only GAR employees and that it's a polite way of saying "prioritize natborn officers, stop wasting resources on clones, we can replace them easier."

Or maybe he doesn't ask, because he's just there to take notes, not argue, and he can see the masters drawing up a response that amounts to "We would like to remind you that our soldiers do not fall into that classification, and to limit their access to our medical supplies is liable to cause a loss of life that we find unreasonably high. Please see the annotations attached to adjust wording so that the clones may receive the same level of care."

Anakin's internally just like "Yeah, that's phrased nice and addresses the main problem, Palpatine will obviously agree and change it!"

And then he comes in the next day and the response comes in and it's just dripping condescension about considering the clones actual people.

"This is why we can't use the bacta tanks on clones anymore, just the patches. We could use them at first, we had a few of the CCs get through fatal injuries with them, but they cut that off and said we could only use the tanks on Jedi and non-clone officers a few months ago. The Banking Clans keep tightening their belts on the army, and the Chancellor insists we put citizens first, and the clones aren't citizens. We've been arguing back as much as we can, but he keeps going on about the economy and we can't... we just can't, Skywalker. We're trying to save as many of our men as we can, but..."

Something like "Allocation of resources reiterated, the Kaminoans have assured the senate that the Jedi are far from exhausting the resources ordered."

And Anakin's like. He can't blame the council for lying about Palpatine's past or future actions. He just saw Palpatine's actions. Those actions were to order people under his control to throw away lives he saw as replaceable commodities.

These are his friends' lives.

His soldiers are being thrown away by a man in a tower that he trusted.

And then that man has the gall to suggest it's the council's fault.

Palpatine is good at what he does, especially in public, he dresses it up in flowery language and everything, but Anakin's just like "Those are my FRIENDS and also this is??? How slavers talked about their property on Tatooine???? FRIENDPATINE, WHAT THE FUCK."

Anakin can be passive aggressive sometimes as well as outright aggressive. So if he brings up the guidelines and why they make him upset in general terms, and Palpatine says something about how he’s sad the council doesn’t care about the clones...

Anakin, internally, having just watched the council scramble to save as many clones as possible within the guidelines that Palps handed down: Uh-huh.

(Anakin is just the gay horror teeth gif from queer eye.)

Just. “Yeah, funny you say that, Palpatine! Because as I remember, you told the council not to waste more resources than necessary while Mace Windu was arguing to expand the treatment range!”

Palps doesn't even have time to salvage the situation or attack Anakin because Anakin just bulldoze rants for fifteen minutes and then storms out.

Anakin... maybe does a little treason and gets a copy of the orders so he can ask Padme "Hey, can you explain the politics of this?" and doesn't tell her who wrote it so she isn't biased (he tells her that this is why he's not sharing the author's/speaker's name), and just lets Padme pick apart all the 'this is a nice way of saying they don't view the clones as people' details.

Alternately, someone on the Council sees Anakin dithering and manages to get him to admit that he's not great at political language and wants to ask someone to help him understand the full implications. The person--Mace? let's go with Mace--is aware that Anakin is on good terms with Senator Amidala, if not necessarily aware of the depth of said relationship. Mace points out that he's probably going to be seeing her soon just because he usually does and, as a Senator, she can get easy access to these sessions since they're not about specific missions, just allocation of resources, etc. It's not an optimal solution, but she's got a bit more free time than anyone else Anakin knows with the clearance levels, like Order members that are actively involved in the war effort.

Anakin dithers and panics and Mace, trying to be helpful, tells him that plenty of Jedi have made friends among the Senate over the years, didn't you know Qui-Gon Jinn was a personal friend of Former Chancellor Valorum?

At any rate, Anakin goes to Padme and asks her to explain it to him, because she knows how to phrase things so he gets it.

Anakin has to have her pause and he goes outside and destroys some things halfway through.

(Anakin maybe thinks back to the times Padmé or Obi-Wan were really obviously frustrated and when he asked, they said stuff like “I can’t stand Palpatine rn, sorry Anakin I know he’s important to you and you don’t want to talk about politics, let’s just talk about something else.”)

(Obi-Wan: I don’t trust Palpatine Anakin: you just don’t like politicians in general Obi-Wan: yes that is also true)

(Obi-Wan does like Bail and Padme but he does also talk a bit about how politicians generally aren’t to be trusted.)

[inklore]

convinced by your lips.

premise: with the way andy has been avoiding you since the night you two spent together, you are more than convinced that he hates you and you’re on the brink of losing your job. and though it takes a while, andy is sure to let you know exactly how he feels about what happened that night. with more than just his words.

pairing: andy barber x (f)reader

warnings: third person pov, fingering/slight foreplay, miscommunication, cheating, babysitter x employer, agegap, slight dirty talk if you squint. reminder: you are in control of your reading consumption so if you don’t vibe with any of the above pls do not go on. 18+ only.

word count: 6k+

etc: after months of debating on if i should make this a series i’ve finally been convinced to do so! this chapter is a very plot heavy and the smut isn’t until the very end so if you just want to read that then scroll on down, and there’s also a couple time jumps, but i swear the next few chapters will be heavy smut unless my words get outta hand lmao.

♡ ྀ previous chapter / series masterlist / ao3

It takes her the entirety of the weekend to convince herself that she was going to get a call from Laurie, or Andy himself, to let her know that she no longer had a job. That they no longer needed her services and if it were Laurie she was certain she was going to get the wrath of a woman scorned.

It would be fair. She deserved it. There would be consequences for her actions, for Andy’s as well. And if that was going to be getting fired or screamed at by the wife of the man she let come down her throat mere days ago, then so be it.

But no call came. Monday finally coming around and a text from Laurie popping up on her phone, her heart stopping as she looked down at the daunting message. Her thumb shaking, the anticipation and fear of what it could say: a death threat? Release from her job? Getting called a homewrecker along with some other colorful words? It made her insides twist with anxiety.

And the feeling didn’t go away even after she opened the message and read ‘Hey, need your stay late tonight hope that’s okay.’ She couldn’t explain the tension she felt at the base of her spine that ran throughout her whole body, making her knee bounce and mind swirl. Shouldn’t she be happy that she still had a job? That Laurie did not know, that Andy didn’t totally despise what happened enough to relay the message to his wife that they should let her go and no longer needed her?

Whatever the feeling was she felt it until she stepped foot into the Barber home. The feeling turning into a nervous ache that had her distracted at every creak and possible front-door-opening sound coming from within the house, that her neck started hurting from the whiplash she was giving herself each time she looked up and towards the door anticipating for Andy to come through it.

It happening so much that even Jacob started to give her weird looks, his side eye never missing a beat as he looked up from his homework to make a face at her.

Laurie is the first to come home. And in the pit of her stomach she finds disappointment. Part of her hoping that Andy would be home first. And she hates the way her stomach sinks when Laurie doesn’t ask her to stay late. Giving her a sweet smile “same time, tomorrow?” She asks as she starts dinner for Jacob, who has swiftly escaped to his room for the rest of the night not bothering to bid her a goodbye. Non-surprisingly.

Y/N nods assuring her she will be here. Gathers her things and heads out of the door. Trying to ignore the pathetic feelings swirling through her at her disappointment.

She doesn’t see Andy again until that Saturday, the night of Laurie’s work dinner. Convinced Andy has been avoiding her all week, only being all but sure about it when he answers the door and avoids eye contact with her. Giving her a closed lip smile. Telling her Jacob is in his room and that he will go get him. Then disappearing up the stairs for what feels like forever. Only reappearing with Laurie in tow, the woman adorned in a beautiful black dress, looking more put together than she has shown in a while.

It brings a smile to her lips, “you look amazing.” Y/N compliments enthusiastically. The grin on Laurie’s face and wave of her hand insisting that ‘it’s not that big of deal’ makes the already ball of regret in her stomach grow ten fold. It becoming a massive mass that feels weighed down in her gut when she watches Andy agree with her, press a kiss to her cheek, Laurie giving him a tight smile and quickly moving for the door. She’s sure her patheticness is seeping off of her and through the floor at the way her insides are making her feel right now.

Was this atoning for your sins? Seeing the man you touched, felt with your mouth, pleased him until you could only taste him, think about him, crave more of that moment, those seconds where it all felt right, and now it all felt so wrong and even worse when you remembered the memory and felt heat in your cheeks and aches in core?

It had to be. There is was no other explanation coming to her for what she felt. For the way her stomach drops when Andy looks at her intently as they spare her a goodbye, letting her know they won’t be too late. She swears she see’s him hesitate at the door once Laurie is out of sight but then he’s gone without another word or look and she knows she’s most likely imagined it.

She almost wishes she imagined the night they spent together.

Almost.

Each time she wishes to take it back, that maybe if she puts it out into space that some God would take pity on her and replace her desire and want for it to happen again with shame.

Y/N finds herself doing anything to distract herself for the rest of the night. Which, unfortunately for Jacob, includes her spending more time with him than she usually would. Usually letting him fend for himself and do his own thing when she has to watch him late on weekends. The boy preferring it that way. The annoyance clear as day on his face tonight as she insists she play video games with him, or that they drive the long way around town to get Indian food. Or that she will watch another one of his gore filled movies with him if he plays one board game with her, Y/N knowing exactly the deals to strike knowing he can’t resist his weird fascination for bloody movies.

By the time Andy and Laurie get home Jacob has slipped upstairs to go to bed. Y/N sat on the couch with a book in hand as she hears the front door open and close. Laurie going on about how good the wine was and how she’s sure one of her co-workers was kissing ass to everyone. Andy agreeing in a low tone as he slips his jacket off as they both make their way into the living room.

She can tell by the flush in Laurie’s cheeks that the wine was in fact good and that she had probably had enough to feel a good buzz. It makes her laugh softly as she watches the woman wave in her direction, ask how Jacob was and then head straight to the refrigerator to raid it.

“He was good.” She stands from the couch, putting her book back into her bag. “He’s probably very annoyed at me for making him play Monopoly for two hours, but if I have to sit through another horror movie I think it was a good trade off.” It surprises her when she’s hears Andy’s chuckle, causing her stomach to tense. The brunette man leaning his side against the counter, arms crossed.

“Oh, he loves you!” Laurie says with a mouth full of cheese. “He could never be annoyed. You’re the best babysitter we have, the last one he scared off, but-“

“Honey,” Andy starts, tone serious as his demeanor changes as he eyes his wife.

“What?” Laurie shrugs, laughing. “It’s true.” Her joy soon turns into a scowl as she passes her husband and towards the stairs. “Are you going to convince yourself another thing didn’t happen?” She says under her breath in a nasty tone, her bubbly wine filled demeanor seemingly gone, as she disappears up the steps.

Andy let’s out a low sigh looking down at his feet for a beat. Y/N pulling her bag onto her shoulder as she stands there awkwardly not knowing if she should say something to ease the sting of the blow. Or just say goodbye and leave. That same feeling of wanting to reach out and comfort Andy. To make him feel better biting at her fingertips, a plea in the back of her throat. Her legs aching for her to move towards him.

But, before she can decide what her best choice is Andy makes it for her. Lifting his head up to look over at her. “Thank you for keeping Jake company tonight. I-we, really appreciate it.”

“Oh,” Y/N smiles, fiddles with her fingers. “It’s no big deal.” Andy nods, gives her another one of those tight smiles and looks away. This would be the perfect time for her to say her goodbyes and leave. For her to not damage the situation between them anymore. To let the ball pressing in her gut work on releasing and everything going back to normal. Or a kind of normal where her and Andy could be in a room together now and it not feel awkward or him being able to look at her for more than seconds at a time.

But instead she finds herself asking him how his night was. Andy acting as if he was surprised she even asked. “Good.” He nods, clears his throat. “Laurie seemed to enjoy herself. She needed a night to enjoy herself, I think. I can’t remember a recent night where she actually has.” He admits. A look of regret, or maybe wondering to himself why he even told her this fact, crossing his face seconds after his words come out.

And she doesn’t like how it stings a bit. She knows it’s none of her business what is actually going on between the married couple. But she wants to know. She finds herself wanting to understand how Andy feels. To reassure him that someone is listening, here to help. Even if it’s not physically. She may be willing to please Andy with every part of her, but she was also willing to listen and give him whatever else he needed. Shoulder to cry on? Yes. Someone to rant to? Of course.

It was probably childish for her to think like that. He was a married man. She was in her twenties and her longest relationship was more a joke than anything. And in reality she didn’t know Andy like that and he didn’t know her like that. They shared a night together. That was it. As much as she wanted to share more nights with Andy, to share more with him, to please, listen, and praise. She didn’t believe it was going to happen.

And as if Andy could hear her thoughts, or maybe the expression on her face was heated and reveled all, he confirms her beliefs. “What happened the other night,” he begins, looking down and back up at her. Seriousness and something she can’t get a read on written across his features. “It can’t happen again.”

“Of course.” Y/N nods, hopes the lump in her throat cannot be heard. That the punch from his words can’t be seen from across the room. Part of her wants to apologize for what happened but it doesn’t sit right with her. Because she isn’t sorry it happened. She’s not sorry she got to feel him, taste him, give him pleasure. In a perfect world she would be sorry, the guilt in her stomach would be more than just a burden she ignores because she wants more.

And something tells her that the glint in Andy’s eye isn’t because he wants her to feel sorry either.

“See you Monday?” She asks him as she walks to the front door. Refusing to let herself look back at him but can hear him push himself from the counter and follow from a distance behind her.

Andy hesitates a second, she hears him take a breath and then say “yeah,” softly followed by a thanks.

♡ ྀ

The next few weeks go by seemingly normal in the Barber home. Y/N arrives everyday, makes sure Jacob doesn’t burn the house down, sometimes stays for dinner. Which includes Andy and her avoiding eye contact at, hopefully, a non-alarming rate. Movie nights are still spent just her and Jacob, Andy being too distracted with a new case, or maybe the thought of sitting on the couch with her in the very spot where she let him fuck her mouth, being too much for him. Which meant more slasher movies. Except for the one night Laurie, very out of character, joined them and they watched a chick-flick hand picked by her. The joy both women felt from listening to Jacob complain probably a bit cruel.

She would almost say things were completely back to normal if Andy didn’t still act distant from her. But it seemed neither of them could pretend the night they shared together did not happen. The thought both making her continuing to ache and feel pensive.

And when one Wednesday night Laurie invites her to a cookout they are having over the weekend, Y/N’s eyes instantly shooting over to Andy. The four of them had been enjoying another awkward pizza dinner together, Jacob more busy on his phone than contributing to the passive aggressive conversation happening between his parents. Laurie clearly not missing the way her eyes had darted to her husbands, a small scowl on her brows.

“Would that be a problem?” Y/N almost thinks it’s a question aimed at her, but by the tone she knows it’s for Andy. And it doesn’t stop her chest from tightening and chastising herself for regarding Andy to begin with.

“No, of course not.” Andy’s tone matching her accusing one. “I’m just sure Y/N has a life outside of this house. She’s already here all of the time.”

She knows it’s not meant as an insult or to sting. If Andy truly didn’t want her there she knows he has the power to pull the plug on her no longer over seeing Jacob. But she can’t help the way she looks down at her plate, her cheeks burning red.

“And that’s a problem for you?”

“I didn’t say that. I’m just being considerate.”

The laugh that falls from Laurie’s lips makes her skin crawl. “As always.”

Laurie stands from the table with her plate, walking it to the sink. Y/N looks to Jacob, not shocked at all when she see’s no change in his expression or demeanor. His fingers still tapping away on his phone as if no one else is in his presence. She didn’t know if this was just his way of ignoring everything or if he truly did not care. Something told her it was the latter and that the boy was already in his own little dark world so what happened on the outside didn’t phase him in the least.

“Would you like to come, Y/N? If you are busy or I am intruding please let me know.” The older woman’s demeanor seeming to go soft with her. She was sure she had to at least feel a little embarrassment, or regret for all the little arguments she had overheard from being present in the Barber home. After all, she did not think Laurie was a bad person. There were even times she had seen the woman look upon Jacob and Andy doing something together, the fondness she felt for her family written all over her face. But maybe that’s as far as it went for her. And maybe she regretted that. It wasn’t her business to know.

Y/N thought for a beat weighing her options on if she should agree to the invite or if she should come up with some excuse as to why she could not. She had already made the situation worse, would she make it even worse if she attended?

“You should come.” Jacob finally spoke, everyone turning to him in awe as if he hadn’t spoken in weeks. Looking up from his phone he looks at her and gives her a fake smile, if she’s ever seen one. “If you don’t I’ll be surrounded by people I don’t like, and with you there at least I’ll have some entertainment.” She wasn’t sure how to take this declaration. She didn’t feel honor that Jacob didn’t dislike her, or dislike her more than others. The boy was not one for sharing his feelings unless something blew up or his parents pressed him long enough and he answered out of annoyance.

Y/N smiling when she heard Andy genuinely laugh, their eyes meeting for a split second before Jacob declared that he was going to bed.

“It’s settled then.” Laurie gave the girl an agreeing smile, and after that starting another discussion over some fake lie as to why she couldn’t come seemed fruitless.

So when Saturday comes around and she’s sat in a lawn chair in the backyard of the Barber’s, iced tea in hand, sun beating down, kids running around and men and women cackling in the corner, she definitely regrets not having that other discussion.

The only people she really knew were the Barber’s themselves and a couple neighbors who came around now and again to borrow some condemned or drop something off. And Jacob was not good company that was for sure. His phone never leaving his hand. His lips never opening to speak. Dirty looks given to the other kids who tried to get him to hangout. At least she wasn’t suffering alone she supposed. And much like every other day she was here Andy was continuing his avoidance of her. Which only made the day seem hotter and more regretful.

And when Jacob asks her if she wants to go play video games with him she all but jumps from her seat, the teenager snickering at her for her pathetic display. This being one of the times she was actually glad the boy had suggested an activity, the two quickly sneaking off for what she hoped was for the remainder of the party.

Though, she was not that lucky she supposed. Y/N quickly giving up playing games with him once they hit the two hour mark, instead choosing to switch between snooping in the boys room and taking glances out of the window at the party below. Silently hoping that everyone would stop stuffing their faces and say their goodbyes so she could do the same without seeming rude. It was just another thing to add to her never ending list of patheticness she was sure.

And when her stomach starts to growl she feels even worse, regretting not grabbing something before they all but ran from the backyard. She thinks she could probably hold off until everyone leaves, but when another hour passes and the fumes from the grill below are still wafting through the windows, she knows it’s no use. And with a heavy sigh she informs Jacob, who has gone back to pretending as if she wasn’t there to begin with, that she’s going to find food.

When she gets to the kitchen to see it empty and food containers placed on every service of the island she silently thanks the Gods. She looks out of the patio door to see Laurie and her girlfriends sat at the table, wine in hand, laughing about whatever. It’s still weird for her to see Laurie filled with so much joy and bubbly-ness, compared to the passiveness she displays with her family. It starts that weird ache in her chest again and she decides to ignore it with a plate of watermelon.

Soon deciding that going to hangout in the living room once she’s done is better than going back to Jacob’s room and listening to him yell at someone through his headphones, or the constant shooting of video game guns.

It’s only on her way to the couch that she see’s Andy’s office door slightly ajar, sounds of movement coming from behind it. If this were any other time it would be no different than any other day. Except, the last she saw the man he was stood by the grill amongst friends, seeming to be enjoying himself. Therefore she didn’t think he would be in his office right now. At least that is what she tells herself as she walks to the door and pushes it open with her fingertips, peeking in thinking she’s about to see one of the kids messing around in the room. But instead is met with Andy sitting behind his desk, papers in hand, elbow resting on his desk, his cheek pressed against one of his fists.

His eyes looking up from the papers as he hears the door creak open and her standing in the opening. She hates that she stands there a little frozen. She also hates how she’s only now really taking him in. She’s of course seen Andy out of his work attire. But somehow this feels different. She’s never seen his hair not completely styled, or the loose t-shirt clinging to him as much as it is right now. She’s also never really seen him do work, or working. So the contemplation on his face as he was looking at the papers in his hand before meeting her gaze sends a bolt of something through her.

She doesn’t expect him to tell her she can come in, or to shut the door behind her.

“Don’t want Laurie knowing I snuck off just yet.” He says with a small smile. The papers he’s holding sat down on the desk as he leans back slightly in his office chair. His hands falling to his lap. “I saw you and Jake had the same idea.”

Y/N can’t help the small laugh she lets slip, “yeah, he wanted to play video games. And as the babysitter it’s my duty to please.” She says the words before she can think to reword them in a less awkward way. But it’s too late and her cheeks burn at the way Andy’s smile fades and he looks down towards his desk.

“I’m just surprised Jake held out for as long as he did.” Andy continues the conversation as if she didn’t make the air in the room fill with tension. “Gatherings are not really his thing.” He’s still looking down at the papers on his desk, “mine either.”

“Maybe you chose the wrong career then.” Y/N jokes as she takes in the decor of the room, having only ever been in Andy’s office once and that was to let him know Laurie would be home later than expected. Her stomach flits with something she chooses to ignore when she hears Andy’s chuckle.

“You may be right.”

Her mind flashes back to the night they talked about his career mere minutes before she got down on her knees for him and his hands were in her hair. The memory still shoots through her like an arrow. An arrow of lust and the ruminative ache for it to happen again. And when their eyes meet once more she hates how her breath catches in her throat. If she was a stronger person she is sure she would turn around and apologize for disturbing him and go back out to hide in the living room. Or fake an emergency phone call and leave. But, she’s feeling too many things and all she can do is look away from Andy and pretend to show interest in some photo set on one of the bookshelves aligning the wall.

Or maybe she’s just happy that she’s not the only one who doesn’t want to be out where everyone else is. Or where Jacob is. Or maybe she just wants to be where Andy is, no matter how daunting the that truth eats at her.

Neither of them say anything for a while. Andy going back to his papers and Y/N finding her way over to the bookshelves, running her fingers along the spine of some of the books, pulling some out of their spots to read the backs. She’s so immersed in the almost comforting silence, and whatever law book she currently has in her hand, that she almost doesn’t hear Andy speak.

“I can’t stop thinking about that night.”

And it’s as if time stops. Her entire body stopping all functions. Her mind blanking on everything but the words Andy just let slip. Words that are cutting through her like bullets, leaving her body aching and the nerves in her stomach clenching in a way that makes her grip the book in her hand so hard her knuckles turn white. When her body catches up with her mind she finally lifts her head to see his gaze already on her. And if she wasn’t already not breathing she’s sure the look in his eyes would take her breath away. She wants to pretend like she didn’t hear him, to ask him to repeat himself, just to make sure she didn’t mishear him. But her mouth hasn’t caught up to the rest of her functions and so she’s swallowing dry patches in her throat instead.

“That’s why I said it couldn’t happen again.” He clarifies, as if she had asked, as if he knew she had secretly wondered about it. Even though she thought the answer was pretty obvious: he was married. But, apparently it wasn’t that obvious. “It shouldn’t of happened to begin with.” He pauses for a long minute. “And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want it to happen again.” He swallows, looks down for a second then back at her, “but this is, not something I’d ever imagined myself doing.” She doesn’t need him to explain any further than that. He never imagined he would cheat on his wife. Especially not with his teenage sons babysitter she was sure. Any normal person wouldn’t imagine such a sequence of events actually happening.

“I had to make it clear to you and myself that it was a one time thing. I had to say it out loud to. . .convince myself.” He stands from his desk, walks around it as he continues to speak. “But, apparently I’m not a good man. Because it didn’t work.” His words continue to break every fiber of her will power to do anything but stand there and press her thighs together, the ache within her growing to the point it’s almost sickening.

She feels her breath finally pick back up once he’s stood in front of her, her back pushed flush against one of the shelves of the bookshelf. The law book clutched to her chest. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” He’s so close to her now she can smell his cologne and feel the heat radiating from his body. Her nerve endings jumping as she feels his fingers graze hers as he takes the book from her hands and places it back in its spot behind her. It’s the slightest touch but it has the fire in her body burning her even more in her spot that she’s sure there’s sweat gathering at the back of her neck.

“I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting.” He looks apologetic, a layer of sympathy and regret clouding the heat in his eyes. “It’s harder than I thought to be normal in a room with you when all I can think about is your mouth on my cock.”

The vulgarity of his words makes her let out an involuntary breathy moan. The night they spent together was the first night she really heard Andy talk in such a way, she had never heard him speak in a manor other than the few swears here and there coming from the very room they stood in. She didn’t know if he spoke like this with Laurie. She didn’t want to know. It mattered only to her that he had whispered them to her. In this moment, with her back pressed to one of his bookshelves, his chest inches from hers, his eyes looking between her eyes and her lips. The inside of her thighs hurting from the pressure she was putting on them.

She feels herself tense when his hand cups her cheek, the pad of his thumb running along her bottom lip. She wants to open her mouth wider, have him slip his thumb past her lips and put weight on her tongue. But then the way he’s staring at her mouth in earnest has her wanting him to close the space between them even more. To have his lips pressed to her. Something she was regretting not doing last time. She would love to feel the way his lips felt against hers, or his tongue invading her mouth in wordless praise.

“Andy,” it comes out soft, breathy, pleading. It’s not meant to. It’s not meant to slip past her lips at all, but like always, her need for Andy is taking over. And apparently that’s all he needed to hear before he presses his lips to hers. It’s not rough like she expects. It’s not fast. There’s no biting or fervor. Instead it’s soft at first, his chest finally pressing to hers. The heat from him making her body arch into him. Y/N’s hips begging to push forward to feel any friction they can. To itch an ache that’s burning low in her belly to be listened to. Their’s passion in his kiss, the way he works his mouth with hers, in sync. His beard rubbing against her in a delicious burn, leave her wanting to feel it against other parts of her. Andy parts her lips gently, slipping his tongue inside. And it’s better than she could of ever thought it to be. The sensation making her moan into him, her hips moving on their own accord to rub against his leg. His hand running from her cheek down her collar bone, to the base of her neck, to her chest, to the top of her blouse. She pushes her chest more into him silently giving him permission to continue his decent. Begging him to touch her more. Her lips buzzing and aching from how good he feels against against every part of her.

But his hand only skates past her breast, his thumb brushing her nipple upon its descent sending a shock wave through her, only to leave her whining when he doesn’t leave his hand there and do it again. Her mind and body soon catching up to where his hand is going, her hips stopping it’s movements in anticipation. Her stomach in knots as his fingertips brush against her clothed abdomen to stop at the top of her shorts. When his mouth pulls away from hers she frowns at it’s lost, her lips feeling swollen just as much as his looks. His breath just as heavy as hers, it fanning across her mouth.

“I want to make you come.”

“Please,” she moans, her form arching back up into him to confirm her plea. Set it in stone. Show him that yes, please, she wants that too, more than anything. She wants him.

Andy doesn’t make her squirm for too long, and without another word, he’s looking down to undo the buckle on her shorts, unzipping them and slipping his hand inside to press his palm against her hot clothed center. He lets out a very audible breath when his fingertips graze over the very wet lace of her thong. His gaze glued to hers as he rubs her soft and slowly through her underwear, pressing firmly to make sure he brushes against her clit.

“Oh my god,” Y/N moans out, louder than she means to. But Andy seem’s anything but worried about it. His lips swollen and parted as he watches the way she closes her eyes and arch’s her back, her hands coming up to grip the side of his shirt as she pushes her hips up into his palm. The way his fingers press into her slick covered cunt making her body shake.

“There are so many things I’ve thought about doing to you since that night.” She can feel Andy’s other hand gripping one of the shelves behind her as he leans into her more. “My cock aches from how many times I’ve touched it from the thought of you. You on your knees for me again.” He pushes his fingers past the lacy fabric covering her, a moan catching in the back of Y/N’s throat at the feeling of his fingers finally flush against her wet folds. “You spread out across my desk. Fucking you in the bed I share with my wife.”

She knows they should both feel sick over the way that makes them both moan. At how good this feels. At how wet she is. At how she can feel the bulge in his pants pressing against her leg. But the way Andy can’t stop watching her as if watching her face contort in pleasure, body shaking and withering against him, the flush in her cheeks, the moans she can’t keep completely quiet. Like it’s all so much for him. Too good. So good. Like he can’t get enough. As if watching her like this was otherworldly.

His words and declarations only making her body ache more with want. To have him in even more ways. To have him the way he wants her. To let him use her for his pleasure and need. To do anything he wanted to her as long as he felt good, made her feel good. As long as she could feel him and be with him like this. She didn’t care about the consequences to come. That coil of regret in her stomach forgotten and replaced with Andy. Everywhere was Andy. She needed Andy.

His index finger finds her clit and rubs slow circles that has her eyes squeezing shut, head falling back into the shelf space, and mouth hanging open. Her core burning with the intensity of finally touching the place she needed. With making her feel so good. With the promise of fucking her. Of making her come. She wants to be loud, wants to let Andy know it’s so fucking good, but she doesn’t trust herself to completely let herself go like that. The house wasn’t sound proof after all. And the noises falling from her lips and heavy breaths from his could obviously be pointed out as something more than simple conversation.

“How many times have you come to the thought of me?” Andy asks, his mouth pressing a quick kiss to her chin, burning her skin. Before he forces her to look at him as he applies more pressure to her clit.

She doesn’t hesitate to let him know, “so many.” She swallows, moans, “I’ve wanted you for so long.” She admits, feels her cheeks heat up even more with slight embarrassment. As if his hand wasn’t currently in her shorts, his fingers about to make her come.

Andy presses his lips to hers, their moans mixing together in a symphony that is forbidden to even be sung. A symphony that they might regret letting be heard when tomorrow comes. But for right now is music to their ears and has her nails digging into his side’s because she’s so close.

“Next time I’m going to be inside of you, Y/N.” Her stomach flutters at the thought of next time. That he actually wants there to be a next time. She wants it. And fuck she can’t get enough and doesn’t know how long next time is going to be but she’s already counting down the days until she can have Andy like this again. Can feel more than just his fingers or his lips on hers. “I need to feel your cunt.”

“Andy,” Y/N moans against his mouth. Her knees shaking as she feels that euphoric high build and build inside of her. The pad of his finger making quick circles against her swollen clit. She wants to declare her want for that too, to feel him fill her after so many nights of pretending with her fingers. Wants to tell him how good it would feel, how good she feels right now. But all it takes is feeling his lips press to her neck and Andy whispering “Come for me” against her flesh and she’s pressing her lips together to suppress her moans as she comes on his fingers. Her body going rigid against him as she loses all feeling in her legs and entrusts him to hold her up with his arm around her middle.

Y/N tries to catch her breath. Her eyes staying closed as she rests her forehead on Andy’s shoulder. Her body squirming a bit as he removes his hand from her shorts, grips her hip pressing her closer to his chest and kissing the side of her head. He is not quick to move her off of him as she comes down or demands she leaves. Something that once the orgasm haze wears off she expects him to do. Her assumptions coming back to her in tenfold as if any of them have been right thus far.

Andy hasn’t stopped thinking about her since that night. She assumed he regretted it so much to the point of disliking her. But he wants her. He said it himself and even if they never share another night together again that admission alone would be enough for her.

“I meant what I said.” He pulls back, her head moving from his shoulder, their eyes meeting. “Next time.” He says serious and she can’t find the words to say, because her body is still reeling and if this were a different situation she would drop down to her knees and return the favor with vigor and praise. But she knows they can only both be lost from the party for so long before someone comes looking for them. And she knows Andy did this for her pleasure and is not worried about his own.

But there will be a next time.

And her body heats up once more at the thought of it.

[fairestwriting]

All these thirsty dudes checking out a pretty face tsk tsk. Can I request the dorm leaders noticing their crush checking THEM out? After all, what's wrong with a little equal opportunity ;)

time for some equality babes

+ if you like my writing, you can buy me a ko-fi to support me!

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle can be rather oblivious when it comes to things like this, so it’s a while before he notices you’re looking at him any differently. You have to be obvious to get his attention.

And when you do, he’s just... baffled. Blushes like crazy because of course he does, how couldn’t he blush when you’re staring at him with those eyes? And to think you’d be the sort of person who would stare at someone like this...!

Scolds you but he’s so embarrassed you can barely really get what he’s saying. Just where the hell do you think you’re staring? His voice is so much higher than usual it just feels like being lectured by a hamster.

Threatens to off your head but doesn’t really. Goes back to his room and thinks very extensively about the situation.

Leona Kingscholar

A bastard and a show off. The one who goes you like what you see? with that overconfident grin of his.

Has an easy time noticing it and an easier time teasing you for it, he’s literally never letting you live this down. From that day on, Leona will sometimes look at you with this smug face while he stretches after waking up from a nap, moving almost like he’s posing.

(Really, on the inside he’s just kind of giddy that you think he’s attractive. Of course he knows he is, but having proof does wonders to his ego)

You can turn the tables on him and I would recommend that. Fight his smugness with bluntness, flustered Leona is something completely achievable.

Azul Ashengrotto

Flustered, but a normal amount. It won’t kick him into embarrassed tsundere-y scolding like Riddle, but he’ll fumble a word or two during your conversation after noticing it.

He needs to take a moment to think about how to approach this. Should he point it out? He doesn’t want to make anything weird, but you were the one checking him out in the first place...

In the end it depends on how your relationship had been going up until now. If you had been openly flirting with him, he’ll allow himself to point it out in a lightly teasing remark. If you were more reserved, he’ll just keep it to himself.

But either way it lives rent free on his head. Did that mean you were crushing on him too? He’ll definitely pay more attention the next time you two talk.

Kalim Al-Asim

Oblivious, may be the one that takes the longest to notice you’re checking him out.

He’s just sort of really excited when he finally does notice, though? Like, wow, he’s been thinking about you for a while now, sure he was just pining like an idiot and you took all of his advances as just friendly affection, but he knows what checking someone out looks like, and that fits the criteria. And he’s just delighted to know you think of him like this.

Points it out, but not in a way that’s teasing. Ahaha, how do I look? he asks with a slightly wobbly smile, barely able to contain his excitement as he does a twirl.

Blurts out compliments towards you too, he wants you to know he also thinks you’re so, so pretty (If you don’t know Kalim has a crush on you at that point you’re a special kind of oblivious)

Vil Schoenheit

Well, he’s not exactly unused to being checked out. Vil has his admirers, and a lot of them can be pretty inelegant in how they show their feelings. He wasn’t exactly expecting you would be looking at him like that, though.

His reaction depends on how he’s feeling, really. Does he mind that your eyes are on him like this? That’s a question to be asked. He might show off a little, not even letting you know he noticed you’ve been staring, just leaning in closer with a light mischievousness to his face.

He’s just sort of a tease honestly. Now that he knows he can get your attention, he’ll exploit that. He watches attentively to know just what about him you like best, then does everything in his power to highlight it.

But if he feels you’re being inappropriate, Vil won’t be afraid to tell you so, and we know how harsh his scoldings can get.

Idia Shroud

Idia’s pretty sharp, he notices the staring early on. But then, he... just convinces himself that it couldn’t be that.

But deep down he knows you’re checking him out, and oh boy is it bad for his heart. He catches you everytime, yet he doesn’t say anything, just tries to look away and not think about it too hard, because there’s no way you’re actually doing that, right? He isn’t attractive at all! (yes he is)

It’s easy to know he’s noticed, though, because his face gets all red and he shrinks into himself more than usual, like he’s just remembered something really embarrassing.

Never, ever talks about it, convinced it’ll make your friendship weird. But god does he think about it often.

Malleus Draconia

Okay forget what I said about Kalim he’s definitely the most oblivious of all.

It’s not like he doesn’t know what “checking someone out” is as a concept, he’s just bad at discerning when someone’s attracted to him because of the specific courting traditions he’s been raised on. So when he notices your eyes on him look vaguely different, he just kind of shrugs it off.

Will he ever really notice that you’re checking him out? He might not unless you pair it up with a compliment, and even then, you’ll have to be pretty obviously flirty for him to connect the dots.

When the message gets through, he’s mostly just pleasantly surprised. It doesn’t really fluster him much, he’s just glad you’re appreciating how he looks. Thanks you with a polite smile. You don’t really know what he’s thanking him for but you can take it as him giving you permission to keep up the staring.

[aomine-ryo]

Hi can you do a jealousy headcanon for GOM? 💜

Of course! Hope you like it :)

Headcanons: GOM getting jealous

Kuroko

He doesn’t get jealous very often because he just has so much trust in you

If he ever does, he’s really subtle about it that you won’t even notice unless he tells you

He knew that he could talk to you about anything so he was never particularly uncomfortable with you being around other guys

There was a boy in your class who you had been getting quite close to

He quickly became a good friend of yours, and you’d often hang out with him when Kuroko was busy

He was objectively rather attractive, but you didn’t really see him that way because you only really had eyes for Kuroko

Kuroko wasn’t in your class so he’d sometimes see you walking around the school hallways, however more often than not, you would be with that boy

He seemed like a nice and earnest guy, which is probably why Kuroko began to feel a little threatened by him

Not knowing any better, you invited your friend to come watch one of Kuroko’s practice games with you since you could use the company

Kuroko wasn’t very pleased to see him to say the least

He’d usually glance over at you during games because seeing you watching him motivated him to do better

But now when he looked at you, he’d see you talking to that boy and he’d just feel annoyed

And it definitely showed in the way he played as well because his moves became uninspired and predictable

You went to grab some food with Kuroko’s team and your friend afterwords and Kuroko would not keep his hands off of you

He’d constantly be holding your hand

And he’d leave absolutely no space between you two

Of course, you noticed all of this, but you didn’t want to bring it up in front of everyone

“Hey, so you’ve been spending a lot of time with that guy from your class, huh?” Kuroko said when the two of you were walking back home together

“Yeah, I suppose,” you shrugged, beginning to connect the dots

“Hm,” he hummed, his grip on your hand getting a bit tighter

“Is something wrong?”

“No, it’s nothing,” he mumbled

“You’re jealous aren’t you?” you grinned

His face just became red as he averted his gaze

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he denied almost instantly

“So that’s why you were being so touchy back there,” you giggled

“Well I was just making sure he knew that you were mine,” he said, finally deciding to give in

“For what it’s worth, you really don’t need to worry about him— I’m sure he knows.”

“I’m not a violent person but if he tries anything, let him know he can catch these hands,” he said, clenching his other fist and holding it up

“Tetsu, he’s twice your size, but sure.”

Kise

Okay so we know that Kise is really cold with people he generally doesn’t respect

Well, this coldness becomes so amplified when he sees someone he doesn’t know with you

The two of you were on a date at a cafe once and he went to the cashier to place your order while you remained seated at your table

That was when a classmate of yours spotted you and approached you

“Y/N? Didn’t expect to run into you here,” he said, grinning widely before engaging in conversation with you

Meanwhile, Kise was standing in the queue, glaring at you two

In Kise’s eyes, he was very obviously flirting with you— and he was, you just didn’t realise it

Every moment that he looked at you two angered him more and more

The damn boy even made himself comfortable by taking Kise’s seat

Was what he said so funny that you needed to be giggling like that?

Kise hastily placed his order and then stormed over to your table, not bothering to wait for your food

The boy was just about to reach out to touch you when Kise slammed his hand down on the table, startling both of you

He didn’t intend to do it with so much force but it just happened and he didn’t care

“Hey Y/N-cchi, who’s this?” Kise snarled, voice calm but menacing at the same time

“Oh hey Ryouta, this is Satou, a classmate of mine,” you introduced innocently

“Hi there,” Kise said, flashing him a fake smile and not even bothering to register his name in his head, “Y/N-cchi and I are kind of on a date right now, and you’re in my seat.”

Kise took your hand that was resting on the table and squeezed it tight, making the jealousy much more obvious to you

Your classmate visibly showed his annoyance through an eye roll as he stood up from Kise’s seat

“Alright,” he sighed. “See you around, Y/N.”

His and Kise’s eyes were shooting daggers at each other at this point

“Sure you will,” Kise mumbled sarcastically as he watched him walk off

“Babe they’ve been waving at you from the counter for the past two minutes now, trying to get your attention,” you pointed out, looking at the worker who was just about to give up and bring the order to you herself

“Ah crap,” Kise muttered before rushing over to meet the worker halfway and apologise

“I think someone got a bit carried away with their jealousy, don’t you think?” you said once he got back

“Tch, the guy goes to our school. He should know that you’re mine by now. Yet he still thought he had a shot, what an idiot,” Kise scoffed, just the thought of the boy talking to you getting him riled up again

“You’re intimidating when you’re jealous, it’s weird.”

“Weird? I can be intimidating! Why is that weird?” Kise pouted, switching back to his usual eccentric self

“Because you still sleep with stuffed animals, Ryouta,” you giggled

“And so do you, what’s your point?”

Midorima

So he’s not one to really initiate things like PDA

He’s the kind of guy that just holds your hand in public and that’s about it

However when he gets jealous, he becomes a whole other type of possessive

You’d be hanging out with him and a few of your friends from school

And one of the guys would constantly flirt with you

You didn’t really think too much of it because you thought he was just being friendly

But between the flirtatious teasing and unnecessary touching, Midorima was slowly losing his patience

He’d be really subtle at first

He’d hold your hand a bit tighter and hold you by your waist every now and then, all while eyeing the guy down in hopes that he’d get the message

Obviously, it wasn’t enough because he’d barely even notice Midorima and would continue chatting away with you as if your boyfriend wasn’t right there

“Hey Y/N, do you wanna go to that manga store over there together?” your friend said, seemingly inviting only you even though there were five other people in your group

“Actually, Y/N and I were just planning on leaving, sorry,” Midorima intervened, the ‘sorry’ oozing with so much sarcasm that it was clear that he really didn’t like the guy

“Oh already? You don’t have to leave just because Midorima is, you know,” your friend said

Hahaha it took everything in Midorima to not send him flying like his three pointers

“Excuse me? I think you’re crossing the line there a bit, don’t you think—“

“It’s getting pretty late, we should get going,” you said quickly before things could escalate

After shooting one last glare at your friend, Midorima walked away with you

“The nerve of that guy— unbelievable,” Midorima sighed

“I thought you were going to punch him or something, that’s why I stopped you so quickly,” you giggled

“Honestly, I might have,” Midorima chuckled. “How are you even friends with someone like him?”

“I guess he’s just friendly,” you shrugged. “Looks like someone was a bit jealous though.”

“Please, why would I be jealous of an idiot like him,” Midorima scoffed

He’d never admit to an emotion like jealousy— ever

Aomine

Oh god this boy does not handle jealousy well

He would 100% break someone’s nose if he feels like they’re getting too close

The two of you were at a party once and Aomine decided to take a break from dancing for a moment to grab a drink

So he was leaning against the wall sipping on his drink while watching you on the dance floor

Of course, he wasn’t very pleased to find you dancing with some other guy

Aomine recognised him as someone who went to your school, so he very well could just be a friend of yours

However that didn’t stop him from feeling a growing amount of jealousy as each moment passed

Did you really need to be dancing that close to him?

Aomine should be the only one you dance like that with

He was already a bit tipsy so he may not have been thinking straight

But he completely lost it when he saw your bodies swaying so carelessly together

Next thing he knew, he was storming over to the dance floor

You didn’t even notice him until you were suddenly ripped away from the boy you were previously dancing with

And once again you were dancing with Aomine

He was holding your waist tight and his face was as close as ever

“What do you think you’re doing dancing like that with someone else?” Aomine growled

“Why? Is someone jealous?” you joked as you continued to move along with him to the music

“Don’t tease around like that. You’re all mine, don’t you realise?” he grinned, shoving his lips onto yours before you could say another word

The kiss was desperate and heavy, and as a result, sloppy— not that you minded too much

After seeing that act, the guy from earlier backed off, though you didn’t even notice or care for that matter

I mean, why would you care about any other guy when Aomine Daiki was in front of you?

Murasakibara

He gets jealous very easily

He’s like a child when it comes to most things— he doesn’t share

You’ve had your fair share of encounters with other guys that ended with Murasakibara scaring them off

The two of you were seated on the couch together on your phones

There was absolutely no reason for Murasakibara to have come over to your house just to be on his phone, but he just enjoyed your presence

You were scrolling through TikTok because you’d run out of things to do

You landed on a video of these two shirtless boys dancing to a song that you liked so you just watched for the hell of it

You started scrolling through the comments while the video kept replaying, garnering Murasakibara’s attention

The second he saw what you were watching his possessiveness just kicked in

“You really like watching those boys, huh?” he said, glaring at the boys as if they could see through the screen

“Not really, I just like the song,” you shrugged before turning to him with a smirk, “why? Are you jealous?”

“Well if it means I can get more of your attention then sure, I guess I’m jealous,” he answered simply. “Do I have to take my shirt off and do a dance too?”

“I wasn’t going to say that, but now that you mention it, I’d love to see it,” you giggled

Next thing you knew, he wrapped his arms around you, sending you toppling back onto the couch

“Too bad I can’t dance, I guess you’ll have to make do with some kisses for now,” he said softly, making your heart flutter

“Ah dammit, I wanted to see you dance,” you sighed, pretending to be disappointed

“Shut up,” he groaned, before pressing his lips against yours

This was what he was usually like when he got jealous though

He wouldn’t necessarily get angry or anything like that unless a guy was relentlessly hitting on you

But he’d just become really lovey and clingy just as a way of reminding you that it was him who’d love you the most

Akashi

We all know he’s a classy gentleman

So you can’t expect any dramatic outbursts from him when he gets jealous

He’s always able to keep a calm and composed exterior (not that that’s ever stopped anyone from feeling threatened by him)

Anyone who knew Akashi knew never to mess with him

And they especially knew how much he valued you so one step too far would probably lead to their demise

However, there was one boy at a dinner party you both attended who somehow didn’t get the memo

You ended up being seated in the middle of him and Akashi, which gave him the opportunity to chat with you as much as he liked

Of course, Akashi wasn’t the most pleased to hear what he had to say to you

It was very obviously some awful flirting

You just thought he was being friendly so you entertained his conversation

“Y/N, maybe you should stop chatting and eat— your food is getting cold,” Akashi said in attempt to get him to stop— it was getting frustrating at this point

For the rest of the night, Akashi remained clung onto you with his arm around your waist, monitoring every movement of that boy

It was particularly strange because Akashi was the type to mingle at events like these so you knew something was wrong

Akashi’s cold gaze seemed to be enough to make the guy keep his distance though

Akashi is just too powerful lmao

Once the two of you got back home, Akashi pounced to kiss you almost immediately

“Woah what was that for?” you asked when you pulled away from the kiss that seemed so urgent

“You looked gorgeous tonight, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” Akashi said sweetly

“Aww, thank you, Sei.”

“A lot of people seemed to think so too by the looks of it. Especially that guy that sat next to you at the table,” Akashi pointed out

“Oh. Did you get jealous or something?” you questioned

“Well, yes. I want to be the only one looking at you like that. But I guess it can’t be helped sometimes,” he said, body still as close to yours as ever

“You’re the only one I want so you don’t have to worry for even a moment,” you said reassuringly

“Then that’s all that matters,” Akashi said with a smile before pulling you in for a soft kiss filled with nothing but adoration