#I know I’m late by all means I should have finished this game by now but I had a long break I’m sorry 😭 im so close to running into those

[harrymasonsdadbod]

If I stop posting from this account it’s because I’ve finally gotten to the regenerador portion of the game and I had a heart attack and died. remember me

[augustinewrites]

tsumiki asks the question on a rare, relaxed saturday afternoon. with both the kid’s baseball games canceled due to some heavy morning rain, the four of you were taking the time to do some much needed relaxation. 

“how did you guys end up together?” 

satoru lifts his head from your lap, where you’d been plucking his brows. “isn’t it obvious? it was due to my roguishly handsome good looks and sharp comedic wit.” 

megumi scoffs from his spot on the armchair. “i doubt that.”

you press your cheek against your boyfriend’s shoulder, laughing. “that’s cute, babe, but do you want to tell them how it really happened? or should i?”

“i’ll tell them,” he volunteers. “because i have been in love with you a lot longer than you might think.”

_____

satoru meets you when he’s seventeen years old. (it’s a stupid age. ‘cause when you’re seventeen, you’re all hormones and ego and think the world revolves around you.) 

so he doesn’t pay you much mind when yaga first introduces you to his little class, because honestly? he’d taken one look at you, fresh out of the countryside with your perfectly pressed uniform, not a hair out of place or a battle scar on your body and was extremely underwhelmed. so he’d brushed you off like lint on his sleeve, because he doubted you’d even survive the year. no point in getting to try and know you. 

that same afternoon, you’d unleashed hell on him with your shikigami and almost broken his nose. 

“i’m sorry,” you’d muttered when you’d forcibly accompanied him to the infirmary. 

“you don’t sound sorry,” he’d huffed. his nose (and his ego) were definitely bruised. 

you rolled your eyes and muttered something that was probably really mean under your breath. he’s about to tell you off when he feels blood start to drip again, cursing and pinching the bridge of his nose as he tilts his head back.

“you’re supposed to tilt your head forward,” you sigh, handing him another folded up piece of paper towel. 

he doesn’t take it, glaring down at you. “why would i do that?”

shoko and geto walk behind you both, highly amused by your bickering. “they’d be good together, don’t you think?”

“if they don’t kill each other first.” the latter chuckles, shoving his hands in his pockets as he eyes you both. 

“if you tilt your head forward, then the blood drips out and not in–”

“why? that’s where the blood is supposed to be.”

“no, it’s not, and if you’d just let me finish what i was saying instead of interrupting me–”

it’s not the last time he interrupts you. it’s not the last time the two of you bicker or the last time he walks with you through the courtyard. days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months, and even though you’d almost broken his nose that first day, he quickly realizes that he couldn’t imagine you anywhere but with him. 

_____

it’s late when he sneaks out of your room, sunset streaming through the courtyard as he peeks around the corner, on the lookout for any faculty before he dashes back to the boy’s dorm…

…only to run into geto, who’s standing outside. he feels bad for a second, because they haven’t really talked since…well, everything.

but he just flicks his cigarette, grinning in that all too knowing way of his. “what were you doing in the girl’s wing, creeper?”

“nothing,” he lies, but his cheeks are warm, there are butterflies in his stomach, and he can’t seem to stop smiling.

his best friend looks at him. really looks at him. “oh, man. you’re so obvious.”

“i’m not obvious, you’re obvious,” he retorts.

geto takes another drag before holding it out to him. gojo shakes his head. “you’re one of the smartest, yet dumbest people i know. so i’m going to help you now, because i think without guidance, you are capable of making extremely rash romantic decisions.”

“that’s not true–”

“it’s very true. like that fact that you’re in love with…” geto nods his head towards the girl’s dorm, grinning. 

he tucks his chin under the collar of his jacket when he feels heat crawl up his neck, looking away. “that’s ridiculous. i’m not…it’s not like that. we’re just…hanging out.”

“really?” his friend checks. “because the way that you look at her, i mean…wow. we’ve all seen it. you look at her like you hear tiny forest animals singing whenever she walks into a room.” 

satoru bristles slightly, because he’s not entirely off the mark. 

(but seventeen is a stupid age, and at the time he knew he cared for you deeply, but he didn’t know he loved you yet.)

geto knows though, and just shrugs. “i know you’ll see it someday too.”

_____

“do these shoes go with my outfit?” you ask, looking over your shoulder.

gojo shrugs, hardly even glancing up from his phone. “sure.” 

“you didn’t even look!” 

he exhales a harsh breath, tossing his phone onto your bed as he looks up at you. “why are you trying so hard for some guy you don’t even like? i mean– have you even met him?”

“no,” you sigh, smoothing your hands over your dress. “but me meeting him is really important to my father.” 

he leans back against your headboard, folding his hands behind his head. “why?”

“because a proposal from the kamo clan is a really big deal.” you startle when he sits up so fast that his glasses fall from their perch atop his head. “oh my– what’s wrong?!”

“everything about that sentence. a proposal? as in to be wed?”

“yes, gojo,” you confirm, turning back to adjust your earrings in the mirror. “i was born outside of the zen’in clan, but i have their inherited technique. my dad…all these years he’s worked hard to keep me off their radar so i wouldn’t be stuck there. so i wouldn’t be unhappy like he was. if i accept this proposal and join the kamo clan…all his hard work wouldn’t be for nothing.” 

“the kamo clan,” he repeats, shaking his head. he’s not sure why he’s so annoyed. it’s hard to pinpoint the exact reason. “they’re based in kyoto. you’d– you’d have to leave.”

he doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but all the unsaid things that he’s been too scared to admit to himself (and especially to you) must be written all over his face, because you hesitate before you step out the door, looking back at him hopefully. 

“have fun,” is all he says instead, pretending not to notice when your expression falls. “i’ll probably be out when you get back, but just text so i know you’re alright and haven’t already been whisked off to kyoto.”

_____

“but you never joined the kamo clan,” tsumiki notes, sending you a questioning look. “why did your dad to change his mind?”

“i…actually still don’t know,” you admit, smiling softly. “he’s never told me.” 

“well, whatever the reason, it doesn’t matter now. ‘cause you’re right where you’re supposed to be,” satoru grins. he presses a soft kiss to your lips, but pulls back with a laugh when the kids groan loudly. “on that note, i’m going to start cleaning up.” 

megumi, who’d been silent the entire story, gets up to help, trailing after him into the kitchen.

“it was you,” he says once you and tsumiki are out of earshot.

satoru sets the stack of plates on the counter, glancing over his shoulder at him. “hm?”

“you made some kind of deal with her family, didn’t you? like you did for me.” 

he doesn’t answer right away, moving leftover vegetables into a container. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

besides, that was then and this was now. he’s older and wiser and he knows that he’s loved you since he was seventeen years old.

_____

your father seems taken aback, and not just because satoru gojo was standing in his study, but because of what he was proposing. “excuse me?”

blue eyes land on a photo of you on your father’s desk. you’re cherished here. loved. letting you go must be hard, even if it’s for your own good. “you want to keep her away from the zen’in’s right? if she joins the gojo clan, we’ll make the idea of even coming near her radioactive.” 

“but the only way to do that is–”

“marriage. to me, specifically,” he finishes with an easy shrug, as if he’s merely speaking about the weather. “quick, easy, simple. now you can reject the kamo clan’s proposal.”

your father is a smart man, that much is obvious. he’s kept you out of the zen’in’s grasp for years, even after news of your inherited technique had spread. there’s no way he’d turn down a deal as good as this.

“i have nothing to offer you,” he says now, expression pinched. “no dowry, or things of the like.”

“i don’t need your money,” he dismisses with a wave of his hand. “in fact, i only have three conditions.”

gojo’s three conditions

[miniwheat77]

Brat. (dbf!Captain Price x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, oral sex (f receiving), using worms as bait, age gap, (sorry if I missed any)

Your body feels warm, the hot sun beating down on you as you swam with one of your friends in her swimming pool. You had one as well but her parents weren't as strict as yours so you spent most of your time there.

You had just turned 18 but since you still lived with them for the time being you had no other choice but to follow their rules. You still had a curfew, had to tell them when and where you were going and what time you would be home. They still had to approve of it of course. Although they rarely ever told you no anymore since you were 18.

Your dad sat at an old wooden bar in and old dive bar him and his best friend, John Price liked to hang out in. They've been neighbors for years and years and it's essentially how their friendship started. They spent every holiday, game day, barbecue, and family get together with each other since then. They got along well, never fought. John was invited to everything and since he didn't have a family of his own it wasn't too hard for him to show. He wasn't married, had no kids, and lived too far away from his parents and siblings to plan the flights. He also didn't know when he'd be deployed but since he took on a job on the base and was only backup for missions, he was always home. Usually worked a 9-5 on the base. It was out of the ordinary for him and apart of him felt useless but it paid the bills. He was still there if they needed him anyways.

You dad was tipping the whiskey back like it was water which only meant one thing. Something was stressing him out.

John smiles after drinking some of his own bourbon. "Something going on mate?" He asks your dad. "Ah yeah. Y/N has been driving me crazy lately." He groans. "Me and her mom." He laughs. John tilts his head in confusion. "What's been going on?" He asks. "If you don't mind me asking of course."

"To be honest? I don't know. She's just been a real grouch lately. Has an attitude, doesn't listen, complains all the time. We've given her much more freedom since she turned 18 so I'm not sure where it's coming from." He shrugs. John nods his head. He's still listening. "I mean.. we convinced her to go to the doctor to get a few scans and blood work done, thinking maybe it was hormone imbalance or a mood disorder but those all came back fine and seemed to piss her off even more to be honest." He shrugs. "She got something going on in her personal life? Maybe she's fighting with a friend or boyfriend?" John asks. Your dad shakes his head. "She hates guys her age. Hates pretty much everyone she isn't close with anyways. She always said she won't date until she's older after her first boyfriend but I mean. She was like 12 so it was stupid anyways. She's only got a couple close friends and that's where she is right now. I don't know what it is." He tips back another shot of whiskey.

"Must just be moody. Maybe you guys should come out to the lake with me this weekend. I’m taking the boat out.” He shrugs. “Yeah that sounds good.” Your dad smiles. “Maybe getting out of the house will help her out.” He shrugs.

“I don’t know, I just know she’s in my damn nerves.” He laughs. Once they finish up their drinks, they part ways. Driving down the same roads to get home since they were neighbors. They’d usually carpool together but they’d met after work. When your dad arrives home, you’re home already. Watching a show on the couch. He closes the door behind him as he steps inside, smiling when he sees you. “Hey. John invited us out to go fishin this weekend. I said we’d go.” He smiles. “Do I have to?” You mumble. “Yes.” A grumble leaves your lips. “I’m not sure what the attitude is but it better quit young lady.” You roll your eyes, going upstairs to your room. Throwing yourself back on your bed with a groan.

—

John smiles at your dad, he’s sitting up at the front of the boat. You’re laying on your stomach, bikini leaving little to the eyes, you’ve got a pair of sunglasses on and you haven’t spoken much the entire trip. “John, you mind letting me off at the doc? I’m gonna go get another case of beer.” He nods his head, starting up the boat and making his way to shore. He lets your dad off, letting him know he’s going to go back out with you and to let him know when to come get him. When he’s back out on the lake and the anchor is down, he flips his hat around. Scooping up some water with his hand and flicking it all over you. He draws a gasp from your lips and you turn around, “John what the hell!” You gasp. Wiping the water down. “Cmon kid. You’re driving your poor ol’ man nuts. What’s with the attitude?” He crosses his arms, lazy smile playing at his lips. “I don’t have an attitude. Why does everyone keep saying that?” You roll your eyes. “Oh come on. The eye rolling, talking back, ignoring people when they talk to you. Being a real brat little lady.” He teases. You grumble, laying back down. “Nope. Cmon. You’re gonna try fishing. You’ll have fun.” He picks up a fishing pole. “We’re using worms. I mean.. you can use power bait but the stocked fished are smaller than natural spawn fish. It’s up to you.” He shrugs, holding out the styrofoam container that has the worms in it. You sigh, taking it from him. “You want me to show you how to put a worm on?” He asks. “Yeah sure.” You mumble. “Alright, here. You basically just thread it through the top.” You watch him hook the worm and thread it on, watching as it squirms. You take the pole from him, casting it out into the water and waiting.

Pretty soon, there’s a boat full of younger guys creeping up near you. They cat call you, yelling out obscenities at you. You ignore them, rolling your eyes. John is a little amused because he knows what your dad has said about guys your age and how you hate dating. They leave just as quickly as they come. “Can we just home? This is boring.” You roll your eyes. “No, not until we catch some fish.” He laughs.

This is where he starts to see it.

When you think he’s not paying attention, you’re adjusting yourself. Sliding awkwardly on the seat, rubbing up against your fishing pole for any sort of friction. Acting more and more bratty as the time ticks on. It’s amusing to John really, to see just how frustrated you are. “Where is my dad? He’s been gone a long time.” John shrugs. He pulls out his phone. He notices a text from your dad, seeing that he’s received a text from him a few minutes before.

You mind giving Y/N a lift home? Her mom texted me and said she took a bad fall at work and is in the ER.

Yeah no problem at all, see you later mate.

“He said your mum fell at work so he’s going to go see if she’s okay. It’s just me and you kid.” John sits down. “So we can go home now?” You ask. “No.” He laughs. You mutter something under your breath. He laughs. Your fishing pole bobbing startles you and John perks up. "You got a fish!" You set the hook, yanking the fishing pole and starting to reel it in. The fish puts up a pretty good fight and when you reel it closer to the boat, John scoops it up with the fishing net for you. Helping you get it off the hook. "Look at that darling." He smiles as you pick it up. "Good girl, see? This is fun." He smiles. His statement takes you off guard, cheeks heating up. "Uh.. Yeah. Whatever." You shut down quickly. He thinks it's odd at first. Once you've thrown the fish back into the water, he sits down across from you at the front of the boat.

He looks around, making sure no one else is around. “Look. I know what’s going on.” He smiles. “Yeah? And what’s that?” You look at him. “Well.. I’m putting two and two together here. The attitude, the never wanting to go out.” He smirks. You look up at him. “I mean.. you’ve been grinding up against your fishing pole since I gave it to you. Rubbing your thighs together when that boat full of guys came by.” Your lips part slightly, cheeks going red. "And when I called you a good girl." He chuckles, seeing how you start to squirm from his watchful eyes on you. “Do you not know how to make yourself cum sweetheart?” He laughs. "T-that's inappropriate John." You look away from his gaze, thankful your sunglasses help conceal your embarrassment. He laughs. "Oh come on, what your dad doesn't know won't hurt him, besides. You've been on his nerves lately and if I help you out, maybe he won't be so stressed out. So talk to me." He smiles. You stay quiet and he moves across the boat, sitting right next to you, throwing an arm over your shoulders. "You can talk to me darling. I can help you." Your heart rate picks up, it's racing in your chest. "I.. I don't know what you want me to say." You breathe. You're one step away from panting at his close proximity. The only thing you can think about are his hands on you. "Have you ever had sex before?" He asks. You shake your head. "Have you.. done anything at all?" You shake your head again. "I've tried to it myself but it makes it worse." You look down at your hands nervously playing with them.

He smiles. Right now, John is thankful there is a room below on his boat. "I can show you." He rests his hand on your thigh, feeling you stiffen up under his touch. "O-okay." You breathe. "Come on." He grasps your hand. There aren't many boats left on the water, it's getting late in the day and everyone is going home thankfully, you might get a little loud. He pulls you down the small set of stairs into the cabin of the boat. It's really small. He makes sure to wash his hands before he touches you, having you do the same.

There's a small bed and a table and chairs and that's it. "Lay on your back." You swallow hard, getting up onto the bed. His deep voice has your clit throbbing at the attention it knows it's about to get. You're sure you've soaked through your panties. He leans onto the bed, helping you remove your bathing suit. When your bottom half is exposed to him, he wants to drool. "God you're beautiful." He groans. He glides his hands down your exposed thighs, causing chills to rise on your skin. You're panting now, small gasps leaving your lips. "Relax." He chuckles. "I'm going to help you, try to calm down sweetheart. You're too eager." He runs his fingertips over your skin, his touch is searing, it burns your skin as his fingers move across you. You want his hands on you. You want them inside of you. He takes a deep breath of his own, trying to ignore the way his cock throbs against his cargo shorts. "Start slow. Little circles on your clit." He reaches forward. "Like this." He breathes. He uses his thumb, rubbing circles over you. Your lips part slightly, a whimper leaving your lips. It’s different when he’s touching you. You can feel your lower stomach swirling, something is building already. “You try.” He draws his hand away. Resting your hand over your mound, rubbing circles over your clit just as he said. The sensation is gone just as fast as it came, causing you to whimper out at the loss, your touch feels like nothing. You draw your hand away. “This isn’t going to work John, it doesn’t work.” You blush.

You try to sit up but he pushes you back. “Have you ever cum before?” He asks. You shake your head. “Oh darling.. no wonder you’re so bratty.” He smiles. “All of that sexual tension and no way to release it. Poor thing.” He’s teasing you, but at the same time actually feels really bad. He knows it’s harder for you to cum. “Stop it John.” You try to push him off, tears gathering in your eyes from frustration. “I’m just teasing darling, let me help you.” He moves himself up further, grasping your thighs and pulling you down on the bed further, you let your head rest back on the pillow, looking up at the ceiling. The boat rocks back and fourth over the water. You’re nervous. You don’t know what he’s going to do to you. He moves himself between your legs, and you don’t understand what's going on until you feel something warm and wet against your entrance. You lift your head up, jumping at the sensation. “Oh f-fuck!” You gasp. He glances up at you. He’s still got his hat on, but he’s flipped it backward by now. Giving himself room to devour you. He moans into your opening, you taste sweet. You’re breathing hard, clutching at the sheets as he flicks his tongue over your clit. He starts slow, letting your sensitive nub get used to the sensation of his tongue, not wanting to overwhelm you. You clutch at the sheets, melting further and further into him as he laps at your entrance with his tongue. It's clear that he's had a fair share of experience. You feel something building in your stomach and you know you're about to cum.

You're getting louder and louder, crying out his name and he's never imagined himself in such a position.

This is just to help her dad, so that he isn't so stressed out.

That's all.

John rocks his hips into the bed, cock hard and throbbing against his shorts. Begging for some kind of friction. He imagines your pretty lips around his cock, maybe your pretty eyes looking up at him as you take him further down your throat. He groans into you earning another moan from your lips. When you're wet enough from his spit and your arousal, he slides a couple of his fingers into you. Feeling you tense up around him, all of the air leaving your lungs, you've never had anything inside before and he can't help but smile into you.

He sucks against your clit, swirling his tongue around it, you're squirming, struggling to stay still beneath him, even his grip on you doesn't keep you completely still. He sucks your clit into his mouth one more time, lapping his tongue over you, his fingers curling into the sweet spot inside of you and you lose it, lips parting as moans leave your lips. A mewl leave your lips and you squirm out of his grasp as he desperately laps up your arousal from your orgasm. You push him away, closing your legs. You're looking at him with a look of pure shock, panting, a little sweaty. The look you're giving him it's unsettling how fucked out you look. He wipes his lips of you, looking up at you. "Do you feel better?" He laughs. You nod your head. "Good. Try to relax." He smiles. "Still got about an hour of light left, let's make it worth while and try to catch some fish yeah?" He smiles, standing up. When he's out of your line of sight, he sucks the taste of you off of his fingers. Groaning at himself.

What has he just gotten himself into?

[midnightsnyx]

girl at home | mat barzal | part 1

pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader summary: you're eighteen when you find yourself pregnant after Mat leaves for hockey. nearly eight years later, Mat finds out about your daughter and you have to deal with the consequences of not telling him about her.

warnings: mentions of pregnancy & not really edited word count: 1.3k authors note p1: don't mind me starting a new series when i have four other wips on the go :):) i love kid fics and this idea was stuck in my head so i wrote & decided to give it a go and post it. if this does well and you guys are interested, i'll do more. authors note p2: so notes about the series: i gave the readers daughter a name because i hate writing y/d/n lol of course you can change it in your head to something else if you want :) also the last name johnson is just there so i could have a full name but we all know she'll be a barzal also thank u @multifandombabes for giving me the push to post this!! happy reading & let me know what you guys think!

masterpost

In hindsight, you should have realized that it was bound to happen sooner rather than later. You did your best to avoid places you knew he would be when he was home, going to visit your grandparents or other family. Anywhere that would give you the opportunity to not be seen by him, because then you’d have to explain your brown haired, green eyed, seven year old. 

You weren’t proud of your choice to keep Nora a secret from Mat but you did what you thought was right when you were eighteen, sitting on the floor of your best friend’s bathroom four weeks after you had said goodbye to Mat and staring at three positive pregnancy tests. He had just left for hockey and you didn’t want to be what held him back and as time went on, it got harder to pick up the phone so a few months after Nora was born, you erased Mathew Barzal from your life. You deleted the photos, phone numbers, social media, with the only reminder being the little girl.

And it worked fine. Until now.

Nora usually didn’t come grocery shopping with you because you always ended up taking three times as long as you normally would. Except, your sitter fell through and your mom couldn’t watch her so you had to bring her along. Which is totally fine until you run into Mat. Who has a girl with him. 

So yeah, everything was fine until now.

It’s kind of comical the way his panicked eyes dart between the three of the girls standing around him. A quick glance at Nora confirms that she’s two seconds away from saying something to Mat which will not go well since the kid has zero filter.

“Hey, you’re that hockey player mama and grandma watch on TV!” she exclaims and you want to melt straight through the floor when Mat looks at you with one eyebrow raised. 

“Yeah?” he asks, kneeling down so he’s at her level.

“Yeah,” she confirms, and then loudly whispers: “I’m not supposed to watch ‘cause some games are past my bedtime but sometimes I’ll sneak out.” 

He offers his hand and smiles. “Well, it’s nice to meet you…” he trails off, clearly hoping she’ll offer her name. You hope she just says her first name instead of announcing her full name which she tends to do lately.

“Nora,” she tells him, shaking his hand and then to your unsurprised horror, she proudly tells him her full name. “Nora Nadia Johnson.” 

He keeps the smile on his face but stiffens and gently drops her hand. 

“Cool name,” he says, still smiling but you can see the tension in his shoulders. 

“Thanks! My first name means light and my middle name-”

She doesn’t get a chance to finish her sentence because you grab her hand, abandon your shopping cart and high tail it out of the store. She grumbles while trying to keep up with your pace and eventually you just pick her up and carry her to the car.

“What did we say about talking to strangers?” you ask while buckling her seatbelt, ignoring her annoyed sighs. 

“He wasn’t a stranger, you watch him on the TV all the time.”

“Have you ever met him?” you ask, raising an eyebrow and she mumbles something under her breath.

“What was that?”

“No,” she mumbles, crossing her arms over her chest and giving you a look that is so Mathew that you could laugh.

“Well then, he’s a stranger.” 

You leave it at that because she starts talking about the summer camp she’s starting next week. You’re only half listening, trying to get over the shock of seeing Mat and knowing he realizes that he probably has a kid you never told him about. If you were in his shoes, you would be angry so you are expecting him to show up on your doorstep later that evening but he doesn’t. Part of you wonders if the reason he doesn’t come is because of that girl he had with him but you figure if he really wanted answers, he would come regardless. 

What you’re not expecting, is a text from his sister Liana. You still see his family from time to time out in public but after you essentially ghosted Mat, they didn’t really want anything to do with you. When everybody found out you were pregnant, you lied and said it wasn’t Mat’s which nobody really believed but they couldn’t prove it and you’d used your mothers maiden name as Nora’s last name so there were no ties. You were surprised that his family didn’t tell him anyways, but you thought that perhaps they didn’t for the same reason you didn’t.

To give Mat no reason to stay here and instead, pursue his dreams and go play in the NHL. 

So a text from his sister is unexpected. 

Liana: hey, are you free for lunch tmw?

You almost delete it at first and pretend she never messaged you, but you know that there’s no going back now that Mat saw Nora. He’s not stupid. He probably went home and asked his parents about her. So you text her back a reluctant yes and agree on a spot to meet up the next day.

Nora goes to your moms house because you’re unsure if it will just be Liana who shows up, or if anyone else does. You meet up at a Starbucks and aside from the initial tension, it melts almost immediately and the two of you go back to the big sister/little sister relationship you had when you and Mat were dating. Except now, she’s all grown up.

After some catching up, the conversation turns to the reason she asked to see you. She hesitates, picking at her nails - a nervous tick you know she does - before sighing. 

“Look, everybody kind of turned their head with ‘The Nora Situation’ because it was clearly what you wanted, and it was probably what was best for Mat,” she says. “But he knows now, and he’s got questions that we can’t and won’t answer. Dad had to talk him down last night and his girlfriend went back to New York this morning.”

You wince at that, not liking that the reason his girlfriend left is because of Nora but Liana must notice because she shrugs, taking a sip of her drink.

“Honestly, she wasn’t very nice. I’m not broken up over it and Mat didn’t seem to be either.” 

Okay, that is interesting. 

“Anyway,” she continues, “this is Mat’s new number.” She slides a small piece of paper across the table and you gingerly take it. “I know you didn’t want to tell him, and I understand but he knows. So give him a chance, okay?”

You manage a nod and let her leave with the final word. All you want to do is take Nora and leave, to get as far away as you can but something inside you stops you from doing it because maybe Liana is right, and you should give Mat a choice. After all, you were the one who decided to take it away from him in the beginning. 

So later that night, after Nora is asleep, you curl up on your couch with the piece of paper and stare at it for a good fifteen minutes. Regardless of whether or not you text him, you will have to deal with this and you’d rather it be on your terms. You reluctantly type his new number in your phone and hesitate, trying to think of what to even say. This isn’t a conversation you were expecting to have with him. You type and delete a dozen messages before deciding on something simple.

To Mathew: Hey, I guess we should talk.

You take a deep breath, and hit send.

[just-jordie-things]

[part ten] to build a home - gojo satoru

word count: 4.2k warnings: !!manga spoilers!! swearing, jjk-verse style fighting series summary: when (y/n) (y/l/n) catches wind that the notorious sorcerer killer, toji fushiguro, has children, she makes it her personal mission to find them. the catch being she couldn't tell a soul about them- the risk of the zen'in clan learning about them was too great. keeping the secret isn't the hard part, it's lying to her friends, shoko ieiri, geto suguru, and of course gojo satoru, that she struggles with. especially when satoru has suddenly become so keen on keeping an eye on her lately.

series masterlist

[part ten] : “Cursed Tool”

It was fair to say that (y/n) had severely abandoned her training.  She still practiced here and there, but it was few and far between, and it certainly wasn’t on her list of priorities.  She hadn’t really noticed this.

Her friends, the over-involved spies they were, were completely aware.

Satoru bothered her endlessly about practicing with her cursed technique more, once she seemed to be in a better headspace, anyways.  He’d trail after her once classes were done, pester her to go out for a training session, he even playfully suggested a game of teleport tag.  (y/n) had been blowing him off for weeks.

Shoko brought it up a few times, casually, unlike the white haired man who’d never known the meaning of the word.  (y/n) brushed her off too, but she’d never seemed too bothered to be asked about it.  Shoko was easier to distract with a cigarette and a coffee.

Even Suguru, who (y/n) noticed seemed to be around less and less, still found the time to scold her for not keeping up with her training.  Just like the others, she let the comments slide.

(y/n) figured for some time now that she’d find the time to practice once things with Megumi settled down.  She had too much work to do to properly focus on his cursed energy, and help him grow into it, that the prospect of developing her own was out of the question.  Once Megumi understood his growing power and was able to protect himself with it, then she could help herself.

Foolishly, she hadn’t thought about the consequences of this choice, and (y/n) didn’t realize just how quickly her time was running out.  That was until Yaga asked her to stay behind in class one Thursday afternoon.

Shoko gave her a wave with the promise of meeting up to study later.  ‘Study’ of course meaning a smoke break where they could catch up and talk about anything but classes.  

Satoru followed her out without a word, but his eyes hung on (y/n) for a moment too long.  She furrowed her brows at him, as though to ask him ‘what?’.

He turns away and follows Shoko into the hall.

(y/n) approaches her teacher’s desk, a kind smile as she asks him what he needed her for.

“Let’s get straight to the point, shall we?” Yaga folds his hand over his desk, and (y/n) nods curtly.  “Fact is, it’s been a while since you’ve taken an assignment, and I’ve been trying to select the right one to hand of to you, and now I’ve found one that I think would be perfect for your re-entry into the field”

For a second, (y/n’s) frozen, and she swears that her heart has stopped beating in her chest.  Her face is expressionless, and her hands are still, curled around the edge of Yaga’s desk.  Once his words really settle into her mind, her grip tightens on the stained wood.

“Sensei, with all due respect I don’t think I’m-”

“You’re perfectly ready,” Yaga tells her before she could finish.  “These last few weeks have been hard on you.  You’ve gone through more than anyone your age should.  But it’s time,” He pauses, carefully choosing his next words, “I know you’ve been working on maintaining your routine, and it’s time to allow your work as a sorcerer to settle back to your roots”

(y/n’s) relaxed, expressionless face was starting to feel itchy.  And hot.  Her eye twitched as she stared down at her teacher, who seemed to be dead serious, even though her first instinct was to laugh in his face.

“I really don’t think it’s the right time,” She spoke slowly, so as to keep her voice as even as she could.  “I still need time to process Yu- and- and I just have so much going on that I-”

“(y/n),” Yaga cut her off again.  “While I appreciate you being honest with me, this is already final,”

(y/n) watches closely as he leans back, opening a drawer, and producing a folder.  He tossed it onto the desk in front of her, nodding his head for her to take it.

(y/n) stared back at him, unmoving.

“It would be a quick assignment.  Just the weekend.  And you’d get to see Brazil” He adds that last part with a flashy smile, like she was supposed to be excited about travel.  

“I don’t need to see Brazil,” Her tone drops.  “I don’t want to see Brazil”

“Flight takes off Saturday morning,” Yaga states bluntly.  “You’ll get picked up at six”

(y/n’s) eyes narrow to a glare.

“I’m not going”

“You’re going.  It’s a Grade Two.  You should be able to tidy that up in, what, a couple hours?” He raised his palm, pretending to think it through.  “I let the elders know you’d need longer, since it’s your first time back on the field.  The rest of the time I’ve allotted is for you to relax once it’s done”

“Am I supposed to thank you?”

“(y/n)-”

“No, really, is that what you’re looking for? Now that I’m supposedly done grieving over the death of my friend, I should just get back to normal life? Huh? I should be grateful that I get to have a little vacation time in Brazil?”

Her voice was rising with every word until she barely even realized she was leaning over the desk and yelling right in her teacher’s face.  However Yaga barely looked fazed.  He simply pushed the folder closer to (y/n), staring at her with a hard expression in his eyes.

“I don’t need you to be grateful.  But if you still want to pursue a life in this field, then you need to be wise,” He tells her, his eyes never once moving from hers.  “You haven’t taken a proper assignment in months, (y/n).  I understand there are devastating circumstances, I understand what you’re going through.  But I can’t stick my neck out for you forever, (y/n)”

Hesitantly, (y/n) stepped back, her knuckles sore from how tightly she’d been gripping the desk.  Her hands relaxed at her sides.  Carefully, her eyes moved from the unopened folder, to her teacher.

It dawns on her now that she hadn’t taken a proper assignment in almost eight months now.  Maybe even longer if she took a second to think about it.

Had Yaga been covering for her this whole time? Her heart sinks at the thought.  All this time she’d blown it off, assuming that Satoru and Suguru were being handed any and every assignment that came up.

Now she realizes she’s been in the wrong this whole time.  She’d been avoiding her training, and she hadn’t thought much at all about taking on missions, not when Megumi and Tsumiki still needed her like they do.

But now, looking at it with a fresh set of eyes, she wasn’t sure she could get out of this one.

(y/n) sighs, reaching for the folder with reluctance.

“Saturday at six?” She mutters.

Yaga grins.

“That’s the spirit” He tells her.

Without another word, he stands from his desk and leaves the classroom.  (y/n) glares down at the paper folder in her hands, before following him out.  

She’s stopped before she can take off towards her dorm.

“An assignment, huh?”

“Satoru, you creep up on me so much, I’m almost used to it”

The white haired sorcerer beams, crossing his arms as he slid in front of her path before she could walk away.  Despite her annoyance, (y/n) stays put in front of him.

“I’ll have to find something else to keep you interested in me, huh?” He chuckles.

(y/n) only blinks in response.

“So, Brazil,” Satoru changes the subject.  “Sounds like a fun time”

“Do you always eavesdrop on conversations that don’t involve you?” (y/n) muses.

“Well how else will I get involved?” He replies easily.  “You didn’t sound all too excited.  What was that about?” He tilted his head to the side, but somehow, he was still peeking out over the top of his sunglasses.

“I don’t love picking up and leaving suddenly.  Sue me,” (y/n) rolls her eyes.  

It wasn’t a total lie, she did like more than a day’s notice for long-distance missions like this one.  But the other factors in her distaste were a bit more pressing.  

“Did you really listen in on the most boring conversation because of that?” She asks him, trying to brush past the subject.  “What, are you jealous that they gave it to me and not you?”

Maybe deflecting could work, she decides.

(y/n) shoves the folder into his chest, and he doesn’t stumble at the harsh action, but she finds it curious that his infinity was down, and she was actually able to smack it against him.

“Well here,” She spits out, “You go if you want it so-”

“I don’t care about some lame-ass Second Grade Curse,” Satoru scoffs, throwing the folder back into her hands instantly.  “So which is it? Do you want to retire? Walk out like Nanamin?  Like you haven’t spent the last ten years of your life working towards assignments like this?”

(y/n) visibly bristles at the mention of their former underclassman.  Satoru notices, and it fuels his own annoyance enough that he asks the question that was really on his mind.

“Or are you just so wrapped up in something else that you’re trying to get out of it?”

(y/n’s) brows are drawn low as she glares up at him now.  The playful, meaningless attitude she’d given him before long gone, now replaced with the real thing.

“Kento didn’t just walk out,” She told him, her hands gripping the folder a little tighter than she needed to.  “His partner, his friend, died, and he did what he had to in order to keep his head”

“(y/n), I didn’t mean it like-”

“And I’m not walking out,” She cut him off.  “Just cause I don’t want to take on some stupid mission-!”

“Then what is it!?”

Satoru is yelling before he can calm himself down long enough not to, but (y/n) was raising her voice too and he knew if he couldn’t get her to listen he’d have to keep her attention somehow.

“What is it that you’re letting hold you back, huh?” He lowers his volume, but the bitterness in his voice is still present.  “What could be so much more fucking important than some in-n-out mission that the old you could get done before day’s end, huh? What the hell is it, (y/n)?”

The frown on her lips is twitching, begging to turn into a scowl.  What little patience is left inside of (y/n) is fighting for it’s life not to be cruel to the man in front of her.  

But she could only keep her composure for so long.

“It’s none of your business, Gojo” She mutters.

The use of his surname was the final straw.  Satoru was done with this game of tiptoeing and joking around.  He was over the secrets and blatant lies.  And most of all, he was over (y/n) pretending like she didn’t matter to him, like he shouldn’t even care about it at all.

“None of my business, huh?” He repeats with a scoff.

For a second, he looked away, shaking his head as he worked to ignore the way his throat felt hot.  Just as quickly as he had, he was recollecting himself and hardening his expression to hide any sort of vulnerability.

“Sometimes it feels like you make it my business, (y/l/n),” He spits her last name out with the same poison he’d been hit with from her.  “When you can’t take control of your own fucking cursed technique without my help,” He reminds her viciously.  “Or you can’t even sleep at night unless I’m there, what about that, huh?”

Her hands are curled around her folder so tight, her knuckles are white, and she’s crinkling the papers of her assignment.  She doesn’t care that her reports will look unprofessional now, because it’s the only thing keeping her from smacking Gojo Satoru across his smug, asshole face.  If she were a cartoon character, smoke would be coming out of her ears.

“Then don’t,” Her voice was low, but it betrayed her with a slight crack of emotion.  “I don’t need the Gojo Satoru protecting me like everyone else, I’m fine on my own.  And I’ll handle my shit, on my own”

Gojo’s snarling expression falters, and he blinks as he leans back from her a bit, trying to backtrack in his mind to the moment when he’d pushed her too hard.

From the first second, probably, he thinks to himself.  I fucked up instantly.

He sighs, and relaxes his tense muscles before he tries for an apology.

“Look, (y/n)-”

“No, just-”

(y/n) cuts him off, but quickly shakes her head, not knowing the right thing to say to keep him from pressing once and for all.  She swallows thickly to clear her burning throat, trying to come to terms with what she was about to say.  When her eyes land on his sunglasses again, she hopes they don’t betray her with their wetness.

“Just leave me alone, Satoru,” She tells him, and now his forename sounds evil coming from her, too.  “Just fuck off wherever you go when you’re not bothering me.  Anyone else will bend over backwards on a whim for whatever the fuck you need, so go bother them.  Anyone else.  Because I don’t need you,”

It’s harsh.  It’s beyond harsh, it’s cruel.  Probably one of the cruelest things she’s ever said to anyone, but she knows this is exactly what he needs to hear if she’s going to push him away and keep him away.

He’s still standing there, not a single muscle on his body moving.  She can’t see his eyes from behind his shades, but she assumes they must be blank as he stares at her.  She wishes he would just teleport away.

Her chest feels hollow.  And her throat feels tight.

“I don’t need you to help me with my technique, I don’t need you to help me sleep, and I don’t need you to nitpick every little thing I do every second of the day,”

She’s losing breath, but she knows if she allows herself to collect the oxygen she needs, her chest will heave to steal it, and she’ll lose her false composure.  Realizing this, she delivers her final blow.  

“I.  Don’t.  Need.  You”

(y/n) blinks strategically to make sure not a single drop of the wetness in her eyes could fall.

Her fingers begin to tremble.

Satoru’s silence lasts for a few seconds longer, as does his eerie stillness, but finally, his expression cracks, and he scoffs quietly.

“Fine,” His voice is quiet, but there’s a finality to it that lets her know she was successful in her heartbreaking scheme.  “If that’s what you want, then fine,” He continues, before leaning over to meet her at eye level.

He doesn’t need his Six Eyes to know that she’s on the verge of tears, that whether she meant what she said or not, it was hurting her just as much as she was trying to hurt him.  Nonetheless, this was her choice, and if that’s what she wanted, he’d give it to her.  

Satoru had known for some time that he would do anything she asked of him.  If she couldn’t sleep at night without him, then he’d lay in her bed with her, wide awake from dusk till dawn.  If she needed a training partner, a friend to talk to, a book, lunch, money, his soul- Satoru would find a way.  Of course, he knew what this implied- this desire of his to provide any little thing she wished- he knew that it meant his heart was no longer his to claim.

Knowing this, knowing he’d do anything she asked and now she was asking him to go away, hurt more than any nasty words she could throw at him.  Seeing the gloss of tears in her eyes as he told her he’d follow this command made him feel like his body had been split in two.  Every instinct told him to tell her no, tell her I’m staying, whether you need my help or not.

Or what’s worse to admit, I’m staying, because I’m the one who needs you.

There’s a child, deep inside of his subconscious, who’s crying.  He’s wailing loud enough for Satoru to hear.  He’s deeply lonely, and desperate to be loved, and he’s begging for him not to let his next words come out of his mouth.

Satoru doesn’t listen.

“But I’m done with this stupid game of yours, (y/n),” He tells her, and the low voice he speaks in sounds angrier than any holler, yell, or scream ever could.  “So don’t come fucking crying to me about it later”

When she blinks, he can see a tear catch on her eyelash.  His heart wilts like a sunflower under the clouds.

“Trust me.  I won’t” She tells him with certainty.

A brief moment later and Satoru’s standing straight, and walking away from her.  He has nowhere to be, and he’s not walking in any specific direction to go somewhere besides that wherever he’s headed, it’s away from her.

(y/n) stays put in the corridor for a few minutes longer, frozen, clutching her wrinkled folder of an assignment to her chest and staring at an insignificant spot on the floor for a period of time she couldn’t really keep track of.

She’s not sure how long it was since Gojo had left, but when she’s finally sure he’s far enough away, she breaks. ___

“I have something for you,”

Megumi’s eyes light up with a gleam that only a child receiving a gift could display.

“It’s not that exciting,” (y/n) tells him sheepishly, before reaching into the pocket of her jacket.  “But it is important, and I need you to promise me that you’re going to hold onto it”

His brows are furrowed with uncertainty, but Megumi nods adamantly.

“Okay.  Promise”

(y/n) produces the small token, a thin rope with a small stone on it.  Megumi’s confusion only deepens at the odd gift.

“A necklace with a rock?” He asks as she carefully drops it in his hands.  He studies it closely, as if there was some secret to why this was a special present that he now promised he would keep.

When he doesn’t find anything unique, he gives her a blank stare.  (y/n) chuckles quietly.  

“It is” She agrees with his blunt observation, and picks it back up from his hands, and holds it open so that she could slide it over his head.  The little stone sits on his chest, and Megumi picks it up again to inspect once more.

“Why is this important?” He asks, narrowing his eyes in case there was a tiny detail he was missing.

“Because I laced it with cursed energy,” (y/n) explains.  “My cursed energy,”

The young boy stares up at her, still lost.

“You know how I told you that students studying to become Jujutsu Sorcerers have to go on missions to take care of curses?” She reminds him.  He nods.  “Well… I’ve been asked to go on one of those missions”

“Oh,” Megumi mumbles, his gaze falling to the floor.  “Do they take a long time?”

“Not a long time, no,” (y/n) shakes her head.  “But I won’t be here this weekend.  I leave on Saturday”

“Oh” Megumi says again, quieter.

“But,” (y/n) continues, craning her neck so that she could meet his gaze, “I will be here as soon as I’m finished, alright?”

He nods in a short, small motion.

“I’ve left your sister with a little extra spending money, so you guys can order pizza, or go to the bookstore, or rent a movie- whatever you want to do,” She tells him.  “I hope you can understand”

“I understand,” Megumi says.  “Curses are bad, you have to kill them”

“Exorcize,” (y/n) corrects with a small laugh at his choice of words.  “But you’re right, I do have to.  It’s my duty,” She says.  “And someday it can be yours too, if you want”

Megumi nods, his stare falling to his hands, studying them.  His bedroom is quiet for a bit as he thinks to himself, and (y/n) gives him the space to process everything she’d just told him.  It’s not long before he speaks again.

“So what’s so important about this necklace?”

“You remember my cursed technique?” (y/n) asks.

“... Hexing Eye?” Megumi answers, a bit unsure, but she beams back at him.

“That’s right,” She praises.  “Well, the downside of it is that it’s effects only last a day.  So if I were to hex you,” She raises her fingers to her forehead as if to use her technique.  “It would wear off by this time tomorrow”

“But you hexed the necklace?” Megumi asked, trying to fill in the blanks.

(y/n’s) smiling again, proud that he was able to catch onto jujutsu semantics so quickly, especially with only her minimal efforts as a teacher.

“Sure did,” She says.  “Think of it more as… preserved… in the necklace, if that’s easier,” Megumi nods in understanding.  “So when the stone is broken, the hex is released,” (y/n) makes a flashy gesture with her hands, mimicking an explosion.  “And that will pretty much summon me.  I’ll know to come to you, right away”

“Why can’t we just call you?” Megumi asks, that know-it-all tone in his voice that a parent would find annoying, but (y/n) found endearing.

“Of course you can call me,” She chuckles.  “But this,” She pointed to the stone that sat against his chest.  “This is for emergencies… dangerous emergencies, okay?”

She didn’t want to scare him, but she needed him to know just how important this cursed tool was, and exactly the situation he needed to use it in.

“Okay” Megumi repeats back to her, his azure eyes focused, and sure of what she meant.

“So… so if you find yourself… in a scary situation, or if either one of you are hurt…” (y/n) trails off, her eyes flickering between his to make sure she wasn’t being too grave.  “All you have to do is break that little rock,” She pushes the stone against his body again.  “And I’ll be there.  Do you understand?” He nods back at her.  “I’ll be there in a second.  So if you promise to use it if you ever find yourself in an emergency, I promise to be there right away.  Deal?”

Megumi gives her a small smile as he nods again, holding the stone protectively in his hand.

“Deal,” He agrees.  “I won’t take it off”

(y/n) smiles back at him, feeling much more at ease about her weekend trip to Brazil now that she had a Plan B for the Fushiguro kids.  

They won’t even need it, she tells herself.  But now I know they’ll be safe no matter what.

“Alright kid, it’s very late, and little kids need a good night’s rest” She says, lifting the covers for him to climb under.

“I’m not a little kid” Megumi grumbles, already back to his usual pouty demeanor.

(y/n) chuckles as he slides under the blankets and lets her tuck him in anyways.  Yeah, right, she thinks, but doesn’t say anything besides her usual goodnights and goodbyes.

Her walk home was bittersweet.  She’d accomplished everything she’d needed to today, all at a great cost.  Imbuing that necklace with her cursed energy had taken a toll on her strength, tiring her out for the rest of her day, enough that she was dragging her feet along the sidewalk.

Pushing away Satoru once and for all had taken a similar toll, as well.  But it presented itself differently.  It weighed on her shoulders, and clawed itself into her chest and settled there in a hollow, energy-draining feeling.  

She recognized it as guilt, but there was something else there that had been nagging at her mind since their fight earlier that day.  Something that made her feel like crying- even though she had already vented out all her tears before visiting the Fushiguro house.

She pondered on the sour, painful feeling on her late walk, even though giving it any attention made her chest hurt, and her eyes brim with tears.

Oh, it dawned on her once she’d finally reached her empty dorm.  She collapsed into bed without having changed into more appropriate clothes to sleep in.

The sheets reeked of warm sugar and pine.

Tonight was the first night since Haibara Yu had died that (y/n) would spend alone in her bed.

It was heartbreak. ___

a/n: i just love writing things that make me cry and i hope it makes u cry too >:’)

taglist: @whats-humanity-lol @malinq-ashida @mor-pheus@bekahtaylorgriggs@pookiea@megumimind@thealchemical@pearlstiare@niallerhere@96jnie @purpleguk @peqch-pie@yukinemaroop@makis-girl@sadtoru @kamikokii​ @nerdiel-has-no-braincells​ @googlesheetshoe​ @vzleria​

xoxo ~ jordie </3

[licorice-tea]

Could I Be Loved By You? Pt. 2

Pairing: Monkey D. Luffy x reader, Usopp x reader, Nami x reader (separate)

Content: some suggestive jokes in usopp’s part, just general silliness besides that!

Word Count: 0.9k (total)

A/N: first time writing for all three of these characters- say whatttt! usopp’s part is my fave, but i love all of them!!! also if you check my master list for more content or anything, just know that im working on making it looks more aesthetically pleasing (it’s a mess right now😓) anyway thanks for reading and enjoy <3

Part 1

What happens when you ask them; “Do you think we’re together in every universe?”

Nami - 0.2k

With a singsongy voice, you announce your presence to Nami. “Babe!”

“Y/n!” She responds in a similar cadence. However, she doesn’t look up from drawing her map.

You round her desk so that you’re standing behind it, and she finishes off a line before setting down her pen. “What’s up?”

“I have a question for you.”

“Mhm…?”

“Ok. Don’t laugh.”

“I won’t laugh at you, babe.” Well, she might, but only out of endearment.

“So… Um, do you think that we would be together in every universe?”

Her lips, once pressed together in a resting expression, curve upwards. The shake of her shoulders is an unmistakable sign of held back laughter, which is only solidified by her hand covering her mouth.

“Hey! You said you wouldn’t laugh!” But in all fairness, you’re smiling too. It’s a silly sort of question.

“I’m not, I’m not!” She defends herself through giggles, then clears her throat.

“So, do you think so or not?”

Nami taps her chin with a smirk. “Yes. Yes I do.” The faintest blush colors her cheeks, though she’s much too proud to ever admit to being flustered by the idea. To think; you want to be with her just as badly as she does you, in any every lifetime or world where the two of you coexist. It’s enough to make even her swoon.

“Awww, so you do love me!” You tease. Your next course of action is to run out the door before she can (lovingly) hurl a book at you.

Monkey D. Luffy - 0.3k

You and Luffy are the last crewmates left at the table. Neither of you were late to dinner, nor were you ever. No, you had arrived to the dining room on time (even a little early), but he is still on his 3rd main course. Meanwhile, you are a slow eater. It’s no bother, though; you’d take almost any opportunity to spend time alone with Luffy.

With a soft smile, you tilt your head as you watch your boyfriend and captain stuff his face.

He pauses, noticing your staring. “What? Something on my face?” He licks his lips.

You shake your head. “I was just thinking.”

“Oh, ‘bout what?”

“Do you think we’re like this in every universe?”

“Like what? Still hungry? I know I am!”

“No,” you giggle, “I mean like… in love. A couple.”

This time, Luffy is the one to giggle at your curiosity. “What a weird question, y/n.” He cracks his blinding grin at you. “Of course we are.”

Luffy proceeds to stretch one arm around the back of your chair and pulls it closer to his. The proximity allows you to lay your head on his shoulder, and now everything feels right with the world…

Still, the “what if” scenario runs rampant in your imagination. “But if there is a world where we aren’t-“

“Just means we haven’t met yet.”

“… Hm. I guess you’re right.”

“Yeah, and I found you this time, right? So, I always will.” He says it all like it’s some simple, known truth. As if there are no doubts in his mind- nor should there be in yours- that you’re meant to be together. It’s not surprising though, given Luffy’s view on his own destiny. Naturally, yours is part of his, and vice versa.

With a simper, you swipe your thumb over the corner of his lips to brush away a crumb. “Or maybe I’ll find you.”

Usopp - 0.4k

You and Usopp like to play this sort of game where you ask each other questions. Sometimes they’re deep and introspective, others silly and random. It’s not really a game, per say, but… Well, it’s a fun little thing for when you’ve exhausted other topics of conversation or both of you are bored of other, cleverer topics.

“Ok, favorite temperature?”

“Favorite temperature? That's so specific!”

He chuckles. “Thats the point, baby.”

You hum in agreement before responding. “True… 74 degrees.”

“Celsius, or fahrenheit?”

“…Usopp.” You deadpan. “74 degree celsius would be, like…”

“Around 165 degrees fahrenheit.” He grins proudly. How some people, such as your boyfriend, are such naturals at mental math, you would never understand.

“Hmph… if you say so. But, yeah, why would I say my favorite temperature is 165 degrees fahrenheit?”

Usopp shrugs, “I wouldn’t put it past you; I know you like things hot.”

You’re too caught up in the way he leans toward you teasingly to notice his arms snaking around your waist. Without warning, he pulls you close to his chest. You shriek as Usopp spins you around, but your arms remain looped around his shoulders even after he sets you down.

“That was a dirty trick.”

“I think you enjoyed it.”

And you did, so you just smile and accept defeat. It’s your turn to ask a question now. “Do you think we’d be together in every universe?”

His smile falters. “I… Well, I don’t know.”

“…Oh.”

“I want to be, of course, I just…”

“Just what?”

“You have so many choices, y/n. Who’s to say you’d always choose me? I definitely wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t, in this hypothetical alternate-“

Your lips stop his from moving with a forceful kiss. They linger there, just for a few moments, before you pull back less than an inch away. “Don’t talk like that.”

“Sorry.”

“And don’t apologize. I’d always choose you, Usopp, no matter what.”

His confidence grows back, along with his smile. “Then yes,” Usopp places another small peck to your lips and pulls away to gauge your reaction, “I think we would be together in every universe.”

Your eyes seem to shine with some emotion that could only be described as love. “Just what I wanted to hear.”

[vodika-vibes]

I love your writing. It always leaves me feeling hopeful.

Could you write a story where f!reader doesn't like her body.

I personally dislike my body. My breasts are small and disproportionate, then my butt is flattish. Compared to my mom and sisters I feel unlovable. Doesn't help I've never dated or had anyone interested in me and I'm going on 40.

Sorry that was long. Anyway if you could wrote something with either Fox, Wolffe or Hunter that would be lovely.

Thank you.

You're Perfect

Summary: Wolffe gets home late and finds his mesh’la curled up in bed, upset. And he decides that that’s not going to stand.

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x F!Reader

Word Count: 1027

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: That might be the sweetest compliment I've ever been giving. Making people feel hopeful. Gosh, you're so sweet. I'm sorry that you feel that way about yourself, and I hope this story helps you feel a little bit better!

Wolffe pushes his hand through his short hair in annoyance as he irritably punches in the door code for his apartment. He loves his brothers, he does, but sometimes they are the most irritating di’kut to walk on any planet.

Not to mention, they made him late.

He was supposed to be home over an hour ago.

He had a plan. Dinner and dancing with his perfect mesh’la, something to help her get her mind off the hard week that she’s been having at work.

But no. Now it’s not going to happen. All because Sinker decided to push the Corries and got himself thrown into a holding cell.

He should have let him cool his heels there for the night.

The door slides open and Wolffe pushes into the apartment, only to pause when he notes that none of the lights are on. His gaze flickers to the coat rack, taking note that her favorite jacket and her purse are still hanging there. Not to mention all of her shoes are lined up neatly on the shoe rack.

So she is home. Yet all of the lights are off, and there’s no sound indicating that she’s listening to music or watching a show or playing any of her games-

Slowly, Wolffe sits on the bench to pull off his armor, all of his senses turned towards the apartment, searching for any hint of what’s going on. 

Something is clearly wrong.

Maybe she’s upset that he’s home later than he said he would be? If that’s the case then he’s going to beat Sinker black and blue tomorrow.

He finishes pulling off his armor, and stacks it neatly near the door, and then he heads to the gun safe, and he puts his weapons in it, before shutting and locking the door.

Only then does he head further into the apartment. 

“Mesh’la?”

There’s a sniffle from the bedroom, and Wolffe’s gaze snaps to the closed door. He doesn’t even bother knocking on the door, since it’s his room too, and he peers at the large lump under the blanket.

“Mesh’la? 

“There’s no one here but us bedbugs,” Her voice is shaky, as though she’s been crying. 

Wolffe sighs silently, she’s upset. He’s definitely going to beat Sinker black and blue tomorrow. He sits on the edge of the bed and presses his hand against her back, rubbing soothingly as he feels her trembling under his touch, “I’m sorry I’m late, mesh’la. Sinker got arrested, and-”

Slowly the blanket tugs down so she’s able to peer up at him. Her pretty eyes are rimmed with red, and he feels his heart sink. “Sinker got arrested?”

“Yeah, he picked an argument with Thorn and-” Wolffe sighs, “I’m so sorry that I’m late, I know we had plans. I should have commed…I didn’t mean to make you cry-”

She blinks at him, and then hastily wipes her eyes, though that didn’t help. “I…I’m not crying-”

“You are though.” Wolffe replies gently as he brushes a tear off her cheek.

“Oh.” She pauses, and then she leans into his touch, “Not because of you, or Sinker.”

Quickly, Wolffe reassesses the situation, and his eyes narrow, “Someone upset you to the point of tears.”

“It’s…dumb.”

“If they upset you enough that you came home and cried, it’s obviously not.” Wolffe points out, “Come on, mesh’la. What happened?”

She ducks her head, “It’s just…” She pauses, “Someone said something and-”

“What did they say?” He prods gently.

She seems to curl in on herself, “That I’m not pretty enough to land someone who looks like you. That you’re probably only using me because I’m…I’m easy,” She spits out the word like it’s a curse, “That you don’t really love me-”

Wolffe leans in and kisses her to stop the flood of words. “Well, whoever told you that is clearly jealous of how amazing you are.”

“They-”

“Let’s go over this point by point, shall we?” Wolffe interrupts, “You not being pretty enough for me is nonsense, you’re gorgeous, all of the time. About you being easy-” He makes a face, “If you were easy, mesh’la, it wouldn’t have taken me almost a year to convince you to go on a date with me.”

A flush spreads across her face, and Wolffe grins.

“That was a very long, very miserable year for me, Mesh’la. I can’t believe you spent so long running from me.”

“It made sense, at the time.” She mumbles, and Wolffe presses a light kiss to her forehead.

“As for me not loving you,” Wolffe says, “I spent a year trying to make you even look at me. Is my love for you really in doubt here?”

“I’m sorry-”

“Hey, you don’t have to apologize.” He kisses her forehead again, “I would, however, like to know who exactly made you cry.” She shoots him a look, “I just wanna talk to them. Really.”

“Right. Talk.” She scoffs, “Since when is ‘talk’ a euphemism for ‘beat them senseless’?”

“Since always.” Wolffe replies, he slips under the blanket with her and draws her into a tight hug, “But I’m much more concerned about the fact that you seem to believe them.”

“I…well…”

“Yes?”

“I’m not pretty, Wolffe. Not compared to some of the women that your brothers date. I’m just…bleh.”

“You’re not just bleh.” Wolffe corrects, “And the fact that I haven’t managed to convince you of this yet makes me a terrible boyfriend.” He leans in and kisses her gently. “How can I convince you to see yourself like I see you?”

“I…I don’t know.”

Slowly Wolffe kicks the blanket off the bed and rolls so that she’s laying on top of him, “I have a pretty good idea.” He teases with a wicked grin, “I know exactly how to make you see yourself like how I see you.”

She stares down at him, startled, and then a slightly flustered look crosses her face as correctly identifies the look on his face.

“Ah, you’re so cute and I love you so much.” Wolffe says with a boyish, lovesick, grin on his face. 

Somehow, she looks even more flustered, “I love you too.”

[prefer-to-be-vilified]

Wednesday: I want to make a good first impression so I printed off some flash cards to prepare for dinner with your family. Can you go through them with me before we leave?

Enid: Sure! *reading card* I introduce you to my mom, what do you say?

Wednesday, making an awkward attempt at being flirty: Is she single? *winks*

Enid: Oh my god Wednesday! Please, for the love of god, don’t ever do that. The answer is ‘good evening and how are you doing’

Wednesday: Good evening and how are you doing. Got it. Next one.

Enid: My dad asks how your studies are going, what is your reply?

Wednesday: Easy. Last semester I studied the habits of a monster who was murdering people in the woods. I successfully learned of the identity of both the monster and the sociopathic teacher who was controlling him in a crazed attempt to murder every outcast attending Nevermore. This lead me to be captured, stabbed and almost killed before your daughter was forced to risk her life to save me, fighting a Hyde twice her size while I ran off to fight an undead pilgrim with a sword.

Enid: Baby no. The card says ‘I’m a straight A student at the top of my class’

Wednesday: Damn, I was close on that one.

Enid: No you weren’t. But okay, moving on. You sit down at the dinner table and my brother brings up sports, how do you engage him in conversation?

Wednesday: I know this one *clears throat* I am so bummed I couldn’t catch the game last night, I was arrested after new evidence surfaced in the murder case I’m a suspect in.

Enid: Is that why you were so late back to the dorms last night!?!

Wednesday: No. I fell asleep in the morgue fridges again, I told you that. I’m just saying what’s on the card.

Enid: Wednesday, that is not what it says.

Wednesday: I feel like I’m being gaslit right now.

Enid: You wrote the cards!

Wednesday: That sounds like gaslighting.

Enid: Whatever. Let’s keep going, I doubt this could get any worse. My mom’s cooking red meat for dinner, what do you bring to drink?

Wednesday: Espresso martini’s.

Enid: That’s weird, unnecessarily complicated and illegal for our age. But it’s the most normal response you’ve had since we started so I’ll allow it.

Wednesday: Made exactly as my mother does, with one glass spiked with cyanide. We Addams’ believe that a formal dinner without any deaths is a dull affair.

Enid: *considering faking her own death to get out of this dinner* I’m just gonna finish these as quickly as I can. My mom asks you what your favourite book is, please say something normal.

Wednesday: Frankenstein. I greatly admire Mary Shelly and hope to beat her record and have my first novel published before I’m 19. And once the time comes I plan to pay my respects to her genius as I temporarily emulate her morbid nature by making love to your daughter for the first time upon one of our mothers graves. Enid’s never been a patient woman so I presume it’ll be whoever drops first.

Enid: …just ‘Frankenstein’ is fine baby. And we’re not doing that. My dad asks about your hobbies, how about you pick something that won’t make my family question my sanity for choosing to date you.

Wednesday: Murder, serial killers, grave digging, exorcisms, murder mysteries, creepy abandoned buildings, waking the dead, killing the undead, centuries old mental asylums, making out with your daughter, reading and working on my novel.

Enid: Scratch out the first ten and we have a winner.

Wednesday: Your censoring of my personality is making me sound very boring Enid.

Enid: Parents like boring sweetheart and you love lying. You’ll have to time of your life pretending to be normal, I promise. Okay, last one. My mom begins— seriously?

Wednesday: We don’t have all night Enid.

Enid: *rolls her eyes* my mom begins clutching her throat, choking and foaming at the mouth, she has been poisoned for being mean to Enid, how do you react?

Wednesday, casually leaning on her desk: I’ll have what she’s having am I right? *slips an empty vial into her pocket* I don’t know who I should frame yet, I’m thinking I’ll know in the moment.

Enid:

Enid: You’re lucky I love you.

[hqbaby]

two — you’re so pretty

tag, ur it! — sakusa ? iwaizumi ? osamu ? 

*ੈ✩‧ love is a losing game your roommate, your ex, or the guy you totally haven’t been seeing—the choice should be simple, right? right?

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 1.2k content. mentions of sex, alcohol consumption, profanity

It’s these moments that Sakusa loves best.

It’s late at night and the two of you are in his room. He’s on his bed, reading some book or other (he’ll totally forget the plot and have to reread it later), and you’re by his window, standing in front of his easel. From the bed, he can watch you paint, your body covered by an old shirt of his, drowned in the moonlight.

“You know, you could make the colors—”

“Are you really micromanaging my art right now?” you ask, but he can hear the smile through your voice.

You turn back to see him grinning at you and you drop your brush, launching yourself onto the bed beside him. He laughs as you start trailing kisses across his neck and down his chest.

Sakusa’s never been this happy before, it’s getting to be a little silly at this point.

“You’re so pathetic,” you tell him, burying your face in his chest to hide your smile.

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” he says. “Like so pathetic. You wouldn’t believe it.”

He places a finger on your chin and tilts your head up. He swears you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

You scrunch your nose up, growing a little self-conscious under the intensity of his gaze. “You know, people are gonna start catching onto us.”

He kisses your forehead. “And would that be so bad?”

Your face drops a little at that. You probably think he doesn’t notice, but he does. The way your eyes lose focus, the way your smile falters.

You’ve never told him why you’re so keen on keeping this all hush-hush. It never used to bother him, especially when things between the two of you were just starting. But he can’t help the nagging feeling that he won’t like whatever it is when he finds out.

So he doesn’t ask.

“I should head home,” you say quietly. You’re still smiling at him, as if convincing him that everything is fine.

“Oh, right,” he says, holding back his disappointment. “Sure.”

You kiss him one last time and get up.

And just like that, the moment ends.

You really should’ve read the group chat. It was blowing up a few hours ago, but you were too busy getting railed to even notice. If you had just checked your damn phone.

“Drink up, drink up,” Oikawa insists, handing you a shot glass of vodka. “I’m peer pressuring you. You have no choice.”

You roll your eyes as you down the drink. “How much have you had?” you ask, looking over at the other boys gathered in your living room. There are at least three other bottles of alcohol on the coffee table, all of them empty.

“Not a lot,” Hanamaki slurs. His head drops onto the table and Matsukawa forces it back up. “Quite a bit.”

You chuckle, dropping your bag on the couch and sitting down between Oikawa and Iwaizumi. You look over at your roommate. “Why are we doing this?”

Iwaizumi—also wasted, but trying to hide it—nods at Matsukawa. “Girlfriend dumped him.”

You grimace and reach over to pat your fallen comrade on the back. “Sorry, bro,” you say, taking the bottle of vodka and filling everyone’s glasses up. “Why’d she do it?”

Matsukawa lets out an exasperated sigh. “I didn’t answer her calls,” he tells you. “In my defense, I was just taking a shower. She’s the one who called like fifty times.”

“What did I say?” You tut. “Always—”

“—answer your girl’s calls,” he finishes for you. “I know. She just gets fucking insane sometimes, you know?”

You take another shot and nod. You know what he means. You only met his girlfriend a few times, but you could tell she wasn’t going to stick around for too long. She was a regular college kid, insecure and needy, just like the rest of you. 

You figure that’s why a lot of relationships at this age don’t last. Speaking from experience.

“So where were you?” Oikawa asks, his head falling on your shoulder. He’s all red and woozy, almost like he’s the one that has to drink his heartbreak away.

You frown. “Nowhere,” you tell him. “Library.”

“Bullshit.”

“Not bullshit.”

“No, no,” Hanamaki chimes in. “Bullshit, baby, bullshit.”

You groan as all three boys now turn to you for a proper answer. “I was just visiting a friend.”

Oikawa wiggles his eyebrows and presses himself further against you. “A ‘friend,’ huh?”

“For fuck’s sake.” You reach over and drink his shot for him. “It’s nothing!”

Matsukawa leans over the table and moves his face right in front of yours. You can smell the alcohol on his breath, and you put your palm on his face to push it away.

“Holy shit!” he exclaims when he drops back down in his place. “Were you visiting him?”

Hanamaki gags. “I thought you were over this!”

Oikawa turns to you with a disappointed look on his face. “You were with him?”

You shake your head urgently. “Fuck no!” you exclaim. “I’m done with that.”

“Sure,” he says, unconvinced. “So you’ve just been sneaking around with some random friend.”

“Do you guys want chips?” you ask loudly, trying to distract them. You get up. “I’m getting chips.”

“I’ll help,” Iwaizumi says, dragging himself up and following you to the kitchen.

There’s a strange tension between you and your roommate as you both look through the cabinets to find something. You don't know what it is.

You’re grabbing a bag of chips when you hear a thud behind you. You turn to find Iwaizumi on the floor, a stunned look on his face.

“What the fuck happened to you?” you say, laughing as you go to check and see if he’s hurt himself.

He shakes his head and starts laughing. “I dunno,” he tells you. “Room is spinning.”

“You’re so drunk,” you say, joining in on his laughter.

It’s not every day that you get to see Iwaizumi like this, plastered out of his mind. He’s usually the one who keeps all of you in check, managing his liquor so he can make sure you don’t do something illegal or get yourselves killed. It’s refreshing to see him let loose every once in a while.

“Don’t tell me your girlfriend dumped you too,” you tell him, grabbing him a glass of water. You sit down beside him as he takes steady gulps.

“Don’t have a girlfriend, you know that,” he grumbles, placing the glass on the floor beside him. His eyes land on yours and he tilts his head to the side. “So you’re really not seeing him again?”

You furrow your brows. “No,” you say, then, “Would it bother you if I was?”

He hums, still staring at you. He reaches over and brushes a strand of hair from your face. His hands linger on the side of your face. It’s a drunken action, you’re sure, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t have an effect on you.

And nothing prepares you for what he says next.

“I don’t want you to be with someone else.”

Your eyes widen. It’s the alcohol talking, you remind yourself. But, then again, a drunk tongue speaks a sober mind.

“Why?” you find yourself asking. Your voice is quiet. When he doesn’t answer you, you find it in yourself to press him. “Why don’t you want me with someone else?”

You become acutely aware of his hand still touching your face.

“Because,” he says, eyelids drooping a little, “you’re so pretty.”

notes. 🫣

[gothgirlmahi]

Stocking Stuffer

Pairing: Violent Night (David Harbour) Santa Claus x Reader

Summary: Santa calls you into his office for a private meeting.

Warnings: breeding kink, size kink, unprotected sex, role play, use of “good girl”

Word Count: 1.7K

This was not good. This was not good at all. Never in your life had you been so behind on toy making! This year was insane!

Things weren’t like this a century ago. You could do dolls and toy cars and all sorts of board games with ease. But the kids today? It was Xbox and PlayStation and games you had never even heard of. iPhones and Fortnite and whatever else. It was never ending! It was like Santa wanted to work you all to death!

There was no possible way to keep up with it and he should have known that. You’d been meticulously checking the date and the time crunch was killing you. Every second closer to Christmas was another second you were running behind. You would finish in time, there was no doubt about that. Given that you were the leader for your team, you had a lot of pressure on you. Santa expected his elves to be hard working and pumping out those presents constantly. Normally you all could deliver, but this was obviously no normal year!

He had to understand that, right?

Apparently not. At least that’s what you suspected when you were called from your work station. One of the head elves came to collect you while you were working diligently at your desk. You couldn’t understand what could be so important to tell you during work hours. Then he dropped the bomb that Santa wanted to see you personally.

Look. You had seen Santa plenty of times when he was giving speeches and instructions, but never alone. What if he was mad at you? Oh god, what if he fired you? Could you all even get fired? Maybe you’d been watching too many human TV shows. Whatever was going on, it had your palms sweaty and your heart racing.

He led you to Santa’s office and left. Leaving you to stare down those big red and white doors you had never been inside without others to accompany you. You supposed it was now or never so you knocked.

“Who is it?” he responded after a moment’s silence. You said your name and he made a noise in affirmation before the door was pulled open.

You drew in a breath in awe as you looked up at him.

Of course you’d seen Santa plenty of times but hardly ever got this close to him. It was funny. None of the interpretations ever seemed to do him any justice. He wasn’t just some chubby old man with a white beard. He was, to your own admission, a very attractive man. With a grey beard and pretty hair that you sometimes dreamed of raking your fingers through. And he was so big. Tall, you mean. You of course didn’t know how big he was in any other areas.

Of course not.

“Just who I wanted to see. Come in.” He moved aside to let you in the door. You walked in and he closed the door behind you.

You’d been in his office before but never really had the time to look around. It was filled with little knickknacks and decorations, lots of red and white decor, and candy canes hanging from nearly every surface possible.

He gestured for you to sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk and you did, while he went and sat at his own chair behind the desk. The stern expression on his face did nothing to settle your unease.

“I hear your unit is behind this year. Do you care to explain?”

You were fully ready to grovel and beg. So you did.

“It’s been hard this year. You know, with gathering supplies and making the toys. I’ve never been late before! I’m certain we’ll have everything ready by Christmas Eve.”

He nodded, arms folded and a thoughtful look on his face.

“I hope you’re right. Everything must be ready on time. Wouldn’t it be tragic if we couldn’t deliver on our promises to the children? Imagine their sad faces.”

The thought of it made you want to cry. You’d never want to make a child sad! Your whole life revolved around creating things to make them happy!

“I’m sorry, Santa! We will have everything finished in time. We’ll do as much overtime as possible and get it done.”

He nodded before pressing his fingers to his temples, massaging them gently.

“This stress of this year has taken such a great toll on me. I’ve found myself in dire need of relief.”

Santa looked terribly stressed. You pushed forward in your chair, leaning over the desk.

“You shouldn’t feel so bad. None of this is your own fault. We’re all dealing with so many issues this year. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“Well, there might be one thing. I was looking down in your section and you’re very productive. It’s just, that area isn’t great with stocking stuffers. We’ve had this problem with your section year after year and I think you need a demonstration.”

“A demonstration? On how to…make stocking stuffers?”

Santa shrugged folding his hands as he sat back in his chair.

“I was thinking more so a demonstration on getting stuffed.”

You blinked in confusion.

“I’m not sure I understand.”

Santa gave you a smile and a nod.

“Stand up and I’m sure I can show you.”

You stood up and carefully eyed the man in front of you as he rounded the desk, coming to stand right behind you. When you went to turn around, he held his hands firmly on your shoulders to keep you from moving. He pressed a strong hand to the middle of your back, slowly pushing you down until your upper half was flat on his desk.

When you felt him press his hips against yours, your eyes widened in surprise.

“I think I get it now,” you said, waiting in anxious anticipation for what he was going to do to you.

“You always were a smart one. Now just relax.”

He pushed your skirt up so it bunched around your waist then you heard him fiddling with the zipper of his pants. He easily ripped your panties off of you and threw them somewhere in his office.

You let out a gasp as the head of his cock pressed through your wet folds. He pushed into you slowly until his hips met your ass. Both of you groaned once he bottomed out. Santa took a firm grip in the meat of your thighs and slowly pulled out just to go back in with a vicious thrust that ripped a scream from you. He took up an absolute maniacal rhythm that had you moaning with each meeting of your skin.

“I needed this,” he murmured. His voice sounded strained.

You pressed your cheek into the desk, face staring at the wall but body fully immersed in what he was doing to you. One particular thrust had your back arching towards him and your nails digging into the wood below you.

“Oh, is that it? Is that your spot?”

Santa gently set one of your legs up on the desk and pounded you, making a wet slapping noise that echoed through the room. The change in position also enabled him to hit that spot again and again and again until your eyes were rolling my back.

“Santa, please! Fuck me! Oh my god, fuck me!”

He groaned, shuddering a bit when your cunt squeezed around him.

“Call me Nick.”

His cock felt amazing inside you. Thick and hitting every good spot imaginable. We’re you drooling? Oh, that would be so embarrassing. But you could barely form a thought past the thick meat slamming into your little pussy.

“This tiny cunt feels so fucking good strangling my cock. Fuck, with a cunt like this, you’ve gotta be on the naughty list.”

“No, no,” you begged, “I’ve been so good.”

“Shh. I know you’ve been good. You’re always so good for me. This cunt is mine. Only mine. You’re always so fucking good for me.”

“I’ll be so good,” you but your lip as you felt yourself getting close to tumbling off the edge, “always good for you.”

“Mmhmm. Good girls cum when asked. Are you gonna cum for me, gorgeous?”

“I—“ you couldn’t get your reply out before he was reaching under both of you to roughly rub at your clit. Your legs shook as you creamed around him. You were fairly certain you felt a little trickle of liquid come out of you while he kept pounding you, prolonging your orgasm and making you go absolutely stupid on his dick.

“I’m gonna give you your present a little early, honey. Shit, I can’t last much longer.”

“Please,” was the only thing you could manage to murmur.

“Santa’s gonna give you something special only you can have. But it’s gonna take nine months to get.”

You squeezed around him even tighter after hearing that, pulling a strangled groan from him as he filled you with his warm cream. The feeling of being filled by him had you coming again, writhing around and shaking while he kept your hips in place. He came so much it was dripping down your thighs and onto the floor.

When he finally pulled out, he stopped to press a kiss to your back. You were too exhausted to move.

“You were right,” he said, “I like the role play. It’s fun.”

“I told you. It’s nice to switch things up now and then,” you said, still with your cheek against the desk. He laughed and trailed his finger down your dripping sex, causing you to jolt a bit.

“As long as I get to fill you with baby batter, I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Fuck, Nick! I told you to stop calling it baby batter! It’s weird!”

“It is baby batter. Isn’t that’s the whole point?”

“Yeah, but I mean…” you trailed off, pushing yourself off the desk with some help from your husband. You felt your combined fluids steadily leaking out of you and crossed your legs uncomfortably.

“We are kind of behind on production, though,” he murmured, leaning down to get closer to eye level with you. You stood on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his lips.

“Back to work for both of us then,” you said, fixing your skirt. He nodded with a smile.

“Back to work, Mrs. Claus.”

[cupidskissx]

Thanks for the fics! Are you thinking about writing something Christmassy? If you use this ask for that, I wouldn't care...lol

kisses and happy new year

Hello sweet anon,

Happy belated Christmas to you and those that celebrate!

I started this yesterday with no intention or direction whatsoever. By some Christmas miracle it’s the first thing I’ve “finished” in 6 months. I hope you enjoy ~1k of something for you ❤️🎄

***

When Max’s phone vibrated on the glass-top table the last thing he expected to see when he turned it over was a notification from Charles Leclerc.

Merry Christmas 🎅

He stared at the simple message, unsure what to make of it. They hadn’t spoken since before Max missed their padel game — his previous one line apology left unanswered.

Twisting his wrist, he checked the time and did the calculation. He frowned, it would be past midnight in Monaco, he couldn’t reply and wish him a happy Christmas now.

He picked up his phone and excused himself from the conversation. He walked inside while opening Charles’ contact and clicking call. Max didn’t know why he felt so compelled to speak to him, but it was too late now, he was closing the door to the guest bedroom when Charles answered.

“Hey,” a muted rustle followed Charles’ greeting, likely him rolling over in his covers.

“Hey,” Max sat on the end of the bed. “How was your Christmas?” Max asked.

“Nice, how was yours?”

“Yeah, nice,” Max didn’t know what else to say, maybe calling wasn’t the best idea.

“That’s good,” Charles stifled a yawn, then he asked, “How’s Brazil?”

“Hot. How’s Monaco?”

“Chilly.”

“Checks out.”

“When do you get home?” Charles changed the subject, taking Max by surprise that he’d want to bother keeping up their stilted conversation.

“Err, in a couple of days.”

“We should catch up before I head to Maranello.”

“Really, why? Have you missed me?” Max joked.

“A bit. Which is weird.”

Charles was kidding, surely, Max was the one who was left on read, “How much did you have to drink today, mate?” Max laughed, until he registered Charles’ mumbled response.

“Not enough.”

Oh. Max laid back on the bed and stared at the crack running through the plasterboard ceiling.

“I guess I just miss racing,” Charles clarified, now that is something Max can relate to. He supposed he missed Charles too, in the same way he missed Sunday morning briefings. Because setting the strategy meant driving, and driving meant racing and racing had always meant Charles. Except Charles didn’t only mean racing. Not anymore.

“I really am sorry I missed that game.”

“No you’re not,” Charles was the one to laugh that time.

“Okay, not the match so much, but I am sorry that I let you down.”

Charles was quiet for a long moment, “How’s Kelly’s family?”

Max closed his eyes. “Most of them are drunk and diving into the pool, not the best combination.”

“No, not the best.”

“How’s your family? How’s Arthur, I heard he lost his seat?”

Charles rustled on his end of the line again, “Yeah, he’ll be okay, but it’s still shit. We tried not to talk racing at dinner and that helped.”

“And your mum?” Max asked. The vision of Pascale in his mind was still the one he formed at karting tracks when they were young. When Max was shorter than her and she’d bring a pack lunch in a wicker picnic basket, an old thermos full of coffee never far from reach. One miserable afternoon in Italy she’d let Max hold it to warm his hands while they waited for the rain to clear.

“She’s good,” Charles answered, “Having us all home together makes her happy.”

“Because she can keep an eye on all of you at once for a change?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Charles sounded like he was smiling, Max wouldn’t have sounded much different when he replied.

“My mum is the same, she’ll pop her head in to my room at 6am just to watch me sleep.”

“Mum has definitely walked into whichever room I’m in to make sure I haven’t evaporated if I’m quiet for too long.”

“Typical mums,” Max rolled his eyes fondly at the same time Charles said: “I guess we’re the lucky ones.”

“Yeah, we are,” Max agreed because Charles had a way of making him more honest with himself.

“Will you go see Sophie for Christmas?”

“I’m flying up after New Year’s.”

“So you’ll be in Monaco for New Year’s Eve?”

“If everything goes to plan. Will you?”

“Yeah, I don’t leave until the 3rd. You should come over, I’m doing a small get together, nothing crazy.”

“I’ll check and let you know.”

“Good.”

“And if I can’t make it?”

“Then I guess I’ll see you when the season starts.”

Max’s heart performed a peculiar acrobatic act against his ribcage. “You won’t be home in between?”

“Not really.”

“Well I suppose I do owe you a game before you leave, if it can’t be New Year’s.”

Charles all but giggled on his end of the line, “So now you want to play?”

Max opened his mouth, the words: no, I want to see you nearly tumbled out but he caught them before he had to think too hard about what they meant. “I wanna beat you,” he said instead.

“Naturally. We’ll see,” Charles said but Max didn’t appreciate the open-endedness.

“Afraid for a little one-on-one, we both know Tom carried you last time.”

“You talk big game for someone who lost.”

“Guess there’s only one way to—” there was a single knock on the bedroom door before it creaked open, “I better let you go.”

“Oh, okay, yeah, see you soon then.”

“Yeah, book a court and I’ll be there,” Max started to pull his phone away from his ear when he was called back.

“Max?” Charles asked, voice wavering.

“Yeah?” Max’s brow pinched as he kept his eyes focused on the ceiling. Not quite ready to sit up.

“Get ready to lose again.”

Max snorted, “Yeah, yeah, keep dreaming.”

“I will,” Charles was smiling again, “Night.”

“Night,” Max ended the call. He settled his smile into something less cheesy and pushed himself up onto his elbows to find himself alone in the room.

[berberriescorner]

“Loud and Wrong”

Characters: Kevin Atwater x Black!Reader.

Summary: Kevin and wifey have a minor disagreement.

Warnings: Fluff and a dash of spicy talk.

Word Count: 2,000+.

A/N: Well, lovelies. I've been having sleepless nights lately. Dealing with some ish. Life be life-inggg and it's keepin' my ass up at night *le sigh*. Tired of my mind racing. So to cut off intrusive thoughts I gave it a go and worked on some of my WIPS. My head quieted down enough for me to finish one. I've got some other things I've been working on as well. Fingers crossed I can finish some other works🤞🏾. This isn't heavily edited, but I hope you still enjoy it my loves🫶🏾. Here's to hoping I haven't lost my spark as a writer 😩😆🤷🏾‍♀️.

“The disrespect in this household is at an all-time high. Just going to sit there and eat in my face like that.”

Your husband called you earlier as he was leaving the precinct. He informed you that Halstead, Ruzek, and Voight wanted to watch the game tonight. Kevin called to see if it’d be okay for them to watch it at the house. Once he had confirmation that it was cool with you, he mentioned they’d be stopping for food. He offered to pick you up something as well, but you declined. You weren’t feeling well, so you didn’t have a taste for anything. Kevin asked if you were sure. After confirming, the call ended with “I love you.” Going against his better judgment, he found himself in the hot seat.

“What are you talking about, baby? How did I disrespect you?” Kevin’s senses prickled, and he braced himself for a lecture.

“So, you didn’t bring me any food? Give me some of your wings, babe,” you plead.

Not thinking it through, he let his temper get the best of him. Kevin fussed, “Did you, or did you not say you weren’t hungry? No, baby, you do this every time. You should’ve told me to get you some food. Why do you do that?”

Your eyebrows raised, “Am I not allowed to change my mind?”

“Don’t answer that,” Adam fake coughed, “loaded question.”

Ignoring his best friend, you smirked as Voight’s hand met the back of Ruzek’s head, and he whispered an apology.

“I’m not even that hungry. I just want a couple of wings and some fries.”

“Which means you want all my flats and the crispy fries. That’s the best part of the meal. If you changed your mind, there was plenty of time to call me back and ask for something. Why not do that? Am I right, or am I missing something here,” he directed the last question at the guys. They had been sitting in uncomfortable silence, trying to remain neutral. Neither Ruzek nor Halstead wanted any part of the exchange.

“Kev, give that beautiful woman some food. Always keep your wife happy,” Voight replied.

“I’m not in it, Bro,” Jay replied, while Adam held his hands up, wanting no part of the conversation.

“You should listen to Voight. Besides, I did text you.”

“No, you didn't. I had my phone on me the entire time, love.”

“Oh, so now I’m a liar? Okay, bet,” you responded, tone clipped. You sat beside Kevin with your arms crossed, giving him the silent treatment.

It had only been a few minutes when it started driving him crazy. “Here, ma. Just take some. I guess I can order some more food.”

“I’m good. Liars don’t get rewarded. Right?”

“Man, whatever,” he responded, kissing his teeth as he shook his head. “I’ll gladly enjoy my food.”

His phone signaled a text from Halstead. The men made eye contact as Jay’s facial expression signaled for Kevin to read it.

“Bro, are you crazy? Don’t argue with a pregnant woman. She’s growing your child. The least you could do is just go with it, even if she’s acting a little dramatic. It’s not her, it’s the hormones, brother 😏.”

Kevin sighed, knowing Jay was right. Not even bothering to respond, he backed out of the message. His movements halted as he noticed an unread message. Turns out you had texted him an order.

Feeling like a jerk, he locked his phone, sliding it back into his pocket. Not saying a word, he grabbed his to-go box, gently placing it in yours. His lips left a juicy kiss on your cheek, trailing up to the left temple before he spoke, “You're right, baby. I should’ve ordered extra food, just in case. Eat this, and I’ll just order some more.”

“Mm, am I right? Or did you finally see my text message? Jackass.”

He couldn’t even be mad because you were right. The doorbell sounded, leaving a confused look on your husband's face. Dumping the box back onto his lap, you turned to Voight.

“Could you help me up? Please,” you asked, voice soft and angelic.

Kevin quickly placed his food on the coffee table. “Stop playing, mama. I can get the door.” You rolled your eyes, “I’ll get it,” you snapped. Kevin stood there tilting his head to the side, burning with attitude. Voight inserted himself, “You two play nice and put this to rest. I’ll get the door.”

“Nonsense, you’re our guest,” you responded, but Voight was already up, halfway to the door.

Hank was only gone a few minutes. He returned to the family room, smiling and chuckling to himself. “Mrs. Atwater. I never want to be on your bad side. Kevin–Bro. I don't know how you'll pull yourself out of this one.”

Kevin looked at Voight quizzically. He watched as his boss laid a fatherly kiss on his wife's temple. It fully registered for him as he witnessed the man hand her an Uber Eats bag. The same logo they had all gotten their dinner from was written in big, bold letters on the receipt attached. The two of you glared at one another as you dug in and devoured a handful of fries.

The room erupted in laughter as Kevin rolled his eyes. Unlike the other men in the room, he found nothing funny.

“When did you order food?”

“The minute you called me a liar.”

Kevin pinched the bridge of his nose.

I love the hell out of this woman, but she gon’ drive me crazy.

“You cannot be serious. Let's not pretend you didn't know I’d give in and share my food. Why must you be so damn petty, woman?”

“Just hush. It’s over. Sit down, eat your food, and enjoy the game. I know I will,” you responded with a devious smirk.

Kevin groaned in irritation as he reclaimed the spot next to you. You felt his pillowy, soft lips press against your cheek, moving to that spot behind your ear. He smiled at the shiver his actions pulled from you. Fighting back a grin, you playfully rolled your eyes. With a mouthful of chicken, you responded, “Still not forgiven. You'll have to do more groveling than that, boo.”

He leaned close, whispering in your ear, “That's cute. Trust me, love. I have my ways. Daddy knows how to make it up to you. Wait until I get you alone.”

“Bro! We can hear you,” Adam complained.

“I’m beginning to wonder how this isn’t your second or third baby, Kev,” Voight teased.

Hank joked as the other two sat there, blushing like crazy. Covering your face, you awkwardly laughed with embarrassment.

“I’d get up and leave you to fend for yourself, but I can’t exactly make a run for it these days,” you ribbed Kevin.

As you were about to shrink into yourself sheepishly, the doorbell went off, and you left Kevin to deal with taunts and teases from his work family. With a firm grasp of his forearm and shoulder, you lifted off the couch. Looks of admiration rained upon you as each man watched the cute waddle you made toward the entrance.

Damn near breathless from the short distance, you took a moment to catch your breath. “Baby? Are you good?” You waved him off, telling him to calm down, and pulled open the door. Burgess and Upton’s eyes shone with excitement as they started to make a fuss over your growing baby bump. You chuckled as they questioned why you’d been the one to answer. The minute the three of you entered the living room, Burgess crossed the room, bopping Adam and Kevin upside the head as Upton chastised Halstead and Voight.

“Ladies, please. Don’t be too hard on the fellas. They all offered, but I refused,” you waved your hands. “You guys know I’m stubborn.

“As hell,” Kevin interjected.

“You want static with me so bad,” you sassed.

Kevin threw his hands up in surrender and bit his lip, slightly turned on by your attitude. Behind that sexy smirk was playfulness and something else you couldn’t quite figure out. Adam cleared his throat, “Ladies, not to be disrespectful, but can you stop giving us a hard time? We promise to behave if you just let us watch the game.”

Kim rolled her eyes, mumbling, “You’re making it very hard to like you right now. The couch is calling your name.”

Before Adam could dig himself into a deeper hole, you directed the women toward the kitchen where your peace and sanctuary awaited you.

“I’ll take this,” you said, snatching your wings from Kevin’s grasp. “I’m not sharing either,” you mocked. He nodded his head, sucking his bottom lip in. “Alright, ma. Keep it up. I’m keeping a tally.” You chuckled, turning to head further into the kitchen. You had to have the last word.

“When will you stop with these hollow, empty threats, dear sweet husband?”

Kevin’s head pushed back into the couch cushion behind him as he watched you walk away. He groaned to himself, or so he thought.

“Leave that poor woman alone, bro,” Adam joked.

“I can’t help it. That woman knows how to keep me on my toes, and I live for it.”

Every man in the living room had been hyper-focused on the game except for the man of the house. The sassiness you had given him earlier had heat simmering inside him. Your attitude always sparked a desire in him. His hands vibrated with a need to grab a handful of you. Kevin wanted nothing more than to have a moment alone with you.

Pulling himself from his lustful thoughts, he cleared his throat, “I’m going to go grab another beer. Anybody want one?”

The crew nodded “yes” in unison, eyes still fixated on the television screen. Kevin leaned against the kitchen archway, listening to the animated conversation among the women. You could feel his eyes on you, and a smile pulled at the corners of your lips.

“Is there something that you need, Mr. Atwater,” you questioned with a playful edge.

Your eyes connected with his before slowly trailing down to his bottom lip, tucked between his teeth. Hidden behind the lip bite was a sinful smirk that screamed trouble. Kim and Hailey’s stares bounced between the two of you. Clearing her throat, Kim stuttered, “You know think I hear Adam calling? Hailey, you want to join me? We’ll meet you two in the living room, yeah,” she questioned, both women not giving you time to respond.

“Traitorous heifers,” you mumbled under your breath.

You stood behind the kitchen island, arms crossed, watching Kevin make slow, calculated strides toward you. He stepped behind you, gently grabbing your waist and turning you to face him. The giant man towered over you, licking his soft, plump lips. The action alone caused you to bite back a moan. He bent lower as his mouth ghosted over your own.

“You still mad at me, baby?”

“Mad? No. Irritated, yes,” you finished, neck rolling a bit.

Kevin chuckled lightly, and in a flash, he grasped your hips, lifting you and depositing you onto the counter. Standing between your parted thighs, he leaned in and trailed his lips from your chest to the side of your neck. It slipped your mind that the house wasn’t empty, and a moan escaped your lips.

“Shhh, mamas. Don’t forget we have company.”

“Then let me down,” you gasped as his lips gently suckled your flesh.

“Not a chance in hell. Got you right where I want you now.”

“K-Kevin, seriously. You're getting me all wound up. The baby finally settled and stopped kicking me every five minutes. Don't get her started up again. Down. I want too get down,” you whined like a toddler.

“Tell me you're no longer irritated. I don't want to beef with you anymore, love. If you promise we’re good, I'll let you down,” he smirked.

“You're so irritating,” you responded playfully, rolling your eyes. “Fine, we're good!”

His hand cupped your chin as he pecked your lips continuously. It sent you into a fit of giggles. Your hand daringly wrapped around his throat to the best of its ability. Kevin groaned, pulling his plump lip between his teeth.

“I know that look. What you tryna do with a house full of guests, Mr. Atwater?”

Before your husband could reply, Voight’s voice boomed from the living room, “You two aren't as discreet as you believe yourselves to be. Atwater, halftime is over. Leave that sweet woman alone.”

“Yes sir!”

His lips landed a kiss on your forehead as he promised, “I'm taking your fine ass on a date tomorrow night.”

Kevin swept you off the counter, helping you find your footing as your swollen feet met the hardwood floors. He leaned in giving you one last sensual kiss, promising to ravish you once the two of you were alone.

Hope you all enjoyed it! Feel free to love, reblog, and leave a comment, lovelies🩵.

Tagging:

@darqchilddaydreamz @4everbrookemarie @starrynite7114 @nightlywords7 @amorestevens @sunshine-flower @boomclapxox @astoldbychae @percosim

@skyesthebomb @tbugger01 @thatbrowngruul

[mrtwizz]

Snow On The Beach W.A. [Part Two]

Alternative Title: Poe Cup and Pilgrims?

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem Reader slow burn series

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death, teen angst

Word count: 3.9k

Summary: Wednesday seems to be filling up too much of Y/n's thoughts, and Wednesday does not enjoy the vampire infiltrating her thoughts.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Enid had suggested that Y/n come back to her dorm to hang out like they usually did. Claiming she feels abandoned because she hasn’t been getting the proper attention lately. 

Y/n scoffed at Enid’s dramatics and walked with her to dinner. 

The two gossiped and giggled as they ate, talking about who they thought was with who. Who was caught sneaking out of who’s dorm, the usual gossip. 

After dinner they went up to Enid’s room that she shared with a certain gothic girl. The two listened to music and talked, until Enid got a text that Yoko and Diviana were in the infirmary. Both of the girls having gotten separate illnesses. 

Enid started to hysterically sob, and dramatically threw herself on the edge of her bed. Y/n carefully placed herself on the ground next to Enid. 

“Hey, Enid it will be okay. I can help, and I bet with persuasion Wednesday will too.” Y/n tried to comfort her. 

“Where is Wednesday?” Enid cried. 

“I’m not sure…” Y/n trailed off, neither had seen the gothy teen since she left the beekeeping shed. Y/n hoped that Wednesday hadn’t run into the monster that had torn Rowan into shreds. 

After a few minutes of Enid’s uncontrollable sobs, Wednesday Addams climbs through their window. 

“Where the hell have you been?” Enid shrieks as she jumps up from her kneeling position next to her bed, “I’m literally having a heart attack right now! Yoko and Dividina are in the infirmary.” 

“What happened?” Wednesday asks, eyes glancing at the vampire on the ground. 

“Garlic bread incident at dinner.” Enid growled, “She had a major reaction, which means she’s out of the Poe Cup. And I don’t have enough members.” 

“It wasn’t an accident, Bianca is behind it.” Wednesday states.

“How do you know?” Y/n asks from the floor.

“Doesn’t matter.” Wednesday responds, “We are going to take her down tomorrow.”

“Wait, you’re joining the Black Cats?” Enid’s voice softens, and she steps closer to Wednesday  “You’re willing to do that?” 

The girl in all black steps back as soon as Enid steps forwards. 

“I want to humiliate Bianca so badly, that the bitter taste of defeat burns in her throat.” Wednesday says with a hint of malicious intent in her voice.

“Yeah, but you’re mostly doing it because we’re friends. Right?” Enid asks, causing Wednesday to quickly turn around and face the window. 

“Tell me how she keeps winning.” Wednesday demands. 

“It’s a real brain cramp.” Enid responds, “The past two years no other boat had made it across and back without sinking.” 

“Sounds like sabotage.” Wednesday comments. 

“Oh it is, there’s no rules to the Poe Cup. And it’s in water, that’s like Bianca’s domain.” Y/n says. 

Wednesday looks to where Y/n sits, “Then we just need to beat her at her own game.”

The next day the three of them start setting up how to beat Bianca, Wednesday and Y/n walk past the siren on their way to Enid. Y/n gave Bianca a smile with a little wave, while Wednesday glared. 

“We’re all set.” Enid tells the two. 

“Good, Things in position.” Wednesday says. 

“Wanna tell me what you three were up to all night?” Enid asks. 

“And spoil the surprise?” Wednesday responds, in what should be a teasing tone. 

“Speaking of surprises, your costume is in the tent!” Enid giggles. 

Wednesday looks at Enid, horrified, “Costume?” 

Y/n and Enid both laugh, knowing Wednesday would have immediately shut everything down before it started if she knew she had to wear the cat suit. 

Enid and Y/n get one after another and then do each other's cat makeup. 

Y/n can feel the felt tip of Enid’s eyeliner against her cheeks as she draws on the finishing touches. 

“All done!” Enid says, booping Y/n’s nose as she does so, causing the two of them to giggle. 

“OMG you look purr-fect!” Enid says when Wednesday leaves the tent, “Only thing, where are your whiskers?” 

“Ask again and you’ll be down to eight lives.” Wednesday threatens. 

Y/n grabs her phone from her bag to take a picture of the three of them. Enid’s bright and happy face, Y/n’s plastered with a smile, and Wednesday with her signature deadpan face. Only if Y/n looked hard enough she could see the faintest smile on the goth girl's face. 

The three of them make their way down to the lake where the rest of their team is, they all get into their canoe. Y/n can see Enid look and wave at Ajax. 

Apparently Wednesday sees it too, “Focus.” 

Y/n can’t help but let out a small laugh at Wednesday’s bossy behavior. 

“What do we have here?” Bianca said from her canoe, causing the three to look over, “The runt of the litter.” 

“For the record, I don’t believe I’m better than everyone else. Just that I’m better than you.” Wednesday states. 

Weems' voice comes over the speakers, “I would like to welcome you all to the Edgar Allen Poe Cup. This is one of Nevermore’s proudest annual traditions, dating back to a hundred twenty-five years. Each team must row across to Raven Island, pull a flag from Crackstones Crypt, and hustle back without sinking or being sunk.” 

“The first team to cross the finish line with their flag wins the cup and bragging rights for the year.” Weems explains, “As well as some special privileges. Let the Pope Cup Begin!” She shoots a gun into the air. 

They quickly made their way across the river to the island, and everyone got out of the canoe to tie it up. 

“Stay here and make sure Bianca can’t sabotage the boat.” Wednesday instructs before her and Y/n take off to find their flag. 

The pair quickly make their way to Crackstones Crypt, they run past Xavier and his teammate, both of whom were dressed as jokers. 

“Later Wednesday!” Xavier shouted. 

If the time had called for it Y/n would have rolled her eyes at Xaviers intense pining. 

Crackstones Crypt was a large stone tomb with two statues on either side of it and read “Joseph Crackstone” above the entrance. When Wednesday approached the tomb to grab the flag she braced her body against the wall of the crypt. Her head snapped back and her body fell. 

Y/n quickly caught her falling body before she could hit the hard ground under them. 

“Wednesday?” Y/n was panicked, she didn’t know what was happening. 

Her first assumption was a seizure, only Wednesday’s cold body didn’t shake. So she just sat there for a few moments, keeping two of her fingers on the base of Wednesday’s throat to make sure she was still alive. 

Bianca passed the pair, grabbing her team's flag as Wednesday came back to, “Taking a catnap?” 

“What the hell happened?” Y/n asked, the two of them jumping to their feet. 

“Nothing.” Wednesday replied, holding the flag as they ran. 

They quickly made it back to the boat and got in, and began rowing back. 

“See ya jokesters!” Enid laughs as they row past their sinking boat, “I just asked myself WWWD, What Would Wednesday Do?” 

As they neared Bianca’s canoe Wednesday pushed a lever that opened panels on the side to reveal spikes. Their canoes got closer together before a force under the water began pushing the Black Cat canoe away from the Gold Bugs and towards a red pillar. 

The team tried to row against the force pushing them, but it was little to no use. Until Thing dove into the water, Y/n wanted to question the legistics about it but decided that the explanation of “Addams family” was a just enough one. 

Their team began to catch back up with the other boat, finally slicing into the bottom of it as they passed by. 

“Gotcha.” Y/n said with a smirk, as they passed the final boat and made it to the dock, winning the Poe Cup. 

The crowd dressed in mostly black and purple pinstripe cheered as they did so. Enid, Y/n, and Wednesday got out of the boat first with the flag and ran to the finish line. Both Enid and Y/n with wide grins on their faces and Wednesday with a small one. 

Y/n and Enid put an arm around each of Wednesday’s shoulders and began jumping up and down with excitement. Y/n moved and hugged Eugene who was also jumping with excitement for his friends/fellow hummers. 

“OMG Wednesday we did it,” Enid said, moving to grab and shake Wednesday by the shoulders, “This is the greatest moment of my entire life.” 

“Admit it, you kind of got into the school spirit thing.” Y/n said, now jumping around in circles with Eugene. 

“You guys didn’t say it’s a dark, vengeful spirit.” Wednesday spoke in a lighter tone than usual, her own excitement evident. The look in her eyes and the smirk she wore turned Y/n’s bones to jelly. 

Y/n knew her crush on the Addams girl was a bit over the top and the way her stomach twisted and erupted with butterflies was enough to make her face burn in embarrassment. But the laughter and cheers hide the way her body was lit on fire. 

They got changed into their normal uniform, save for Y/n who always altered and hemmed hers to make it shorter and make her feel better about having to wear in her opinion the ‘ugliest uniform known to man’. 

They stood in front of the entirety of Nevermore’s student body and staff in the quad, “The Poe Cup first took place in 1897, as a way to not only honor Nevermore’s most famous alumni, but to celebrate those values that all outcasts share.” Weems announced. 

Enid and Y/n shared a smile as they stood next to each other, both still buzzing with excitement. 

“Community, perseverance, and determination. And we certainly saw those values on display today.” Weems continued as she handed the cup to Enid who squealed with delight. 

Enid held up the trophy and let out a triumphant, “Whoo!” as people cheered. 

“Congratulations Ophelia Hall!” Weems said. 

Y/n was cheering with the team when she caught a glimpse of Wednesday walking off. Y/n assumed that the attention was too much for her. Y/n paused for a minute before deciding to go after her. 

Wednesday sat on the ledge that held a statue of Edgar Allen, she was looking up when Y/n entered the secluded area. 

“What are you doing?” She asked. 

“Hiding.” Wednesday responded, getting to her feet, “People keep randomly smiling at me, it’s unsettling.” 

Y/n laughed, walking with Wednesday, “It’s called having your shining moment, you beat Bianca Barclay. Nobody’s ever done that, enjoy it.” Y/n pauses, looking at the table of giggling girls,“The other girls wanted to know if you wanted to hang out later?” 

Wednesday gave Y/n a look, “Oh come on, get out of your comfort zone. It won’t kill you.” 

“I’ll think about it.” The gothy teen replies, taking Y/n by surprise. 

Y/n smiled and made her way over to the table as she saw Weems approaching Wednesday. Enid gave the smiling girl a look. 

“Don’t even.” Y/n threatened the bubbly blonde, she sighed at her own emotions. 

Later that night Y/n lie awake in her dorm that she shared with a fuming Bianca, she must have assumed Y/n were asleep when she left with that purple robe. Y/n knew where she was going and didn’t care enough to join. She simply laid in her bed, facing the wall. Drowning in her own thoughts. 

Y/n realized at about 12:32 in the morning that when Wednesday had fallen at Crackstone’s Crypt, it was another vision. Y/n wasn’t sure what Wednesday had been seeing in her visions but she assumed that they weren’t good. Y/n laughed to herself, lately most of her thoughts were taken up by a certain girl who only sometimes wanted anything to do with her. 

She wondered when this crush phase would die down, or better yet be over? Deep in the back of her mind she knew it wasn’t a phase and that these feelings would consume her whole, but in the moment she wanted to pretend otherwise. Slowly Y/n drifted off to sleep. `

When Wednesday had entered the Nightshade’s secret library she looked at the pictures on the walls, scoffing at her mothers smirk. One peculiar painting stuck out to her, one of a girl who looked almost identical to Y/n. Wednesday made a mental note to ask Y/n about what she knew about the Nightshades at a later time. The gothy teen’s thoughts strayed to Y/n for a moment longer than she would have appreciated. 

Wednesday Addams did not understand the emotions and feelings that Y/n made her feel, and wanted to resent Y/n for it. Only something in her pulled Wednesday in closer and closer. As if threatening to strangle her. Wednesday lets her mind wander to Y/n for a moment too long when her world suddenly erupts into darkness, luckily she was not afraid of the dark. 

The next morning Y/n got dressed and left before Bianca had woken up, it was Outreach day meaning they had to do volunteer work. How can it be called volunteer work when it's required? It’s something Y/n had yet to understand, and probably never would. 

Y/n stood with Eugene as Weems explained what they would be doing that day, “As you know Outreach day culminates in a very special event, the dedication to a new memorial statue in the town square. Which will also include performances by Nevermore students. 

Eugene and others began buzzing with excitement, 

Ms Thornhill hands Eugene and Y/n their assignments. 

“Whatcha get?” Eugene asks. 

“Pilgrim World.” Y/n responds. 

“Me too!” The boy exclaimed excitedly. 

Eugene, Y/n, and Enid were making their way to Pilgrim World when Wednesday stopped Enid. Her and Y/n’s arms were linked, causing Y/n to stop as well. 

“Switch volunteer assignments with me.” Wednesday almost asked, but mostly demanded, sticking out the blue envelope to the blonde. 

“What? No.” Enid grimaced, “Uriah’s Heap is definitely not my bag.” 

“It’s an emergency, I need to check out Pilgrim World.” Wednesday said, looking past Enid and Y/n for a split second.  “But Wednesday, this is not a fair trade. Why would I agree to spend the entire day at some dumpy emporium of crapola?” Enid asks. 

Wednesday sticks out the colorful envelope once more as if this were strategically planned. Y/n wouldn't be surprised if Wednesday had formulated an entire plan to get Enid to switch assignments with her. 

“Because Ajax is going to be volunteering there.” Wednesday responds, and Enid’s body language changes, “Thing sneaked a peak at his assignment. But if you’re not interested-” Wednesday turns slightly from the two as she says it.

“No!” Enid grabs the slip from Wednesday’s hand, “Oh my God, thank you. You’re the best.” Enid gently shakes Wednesday's arms, before running off with a giggle. 

“What do you need from Pilgrim World?” Y/n inquires once it’s just the two of them. 

“According to Xavier,” Y/n rolls her eyes at the mention of the artistic boy, “Crackstone’s journal is in there.” 

The two walk in silence the rest of the way to the little ‘village’ that is Pilgrim World.

There was an old man, an actor, yelling to people, “Witch trials everyday!” 

“Damn wish someone would hang me.” Y/n murmured to herself, not intending on anyone else hearing, and even if anyone else (Wednesday) did they didn’t say anything. 

Y/n immediately spots Eugene as they walk in, “Y/n where did you go? Where’s Enid?”  “Enid and Wednesday switched assignments.” Y/n responded. 

“Oh, wanna take a Hummers group photo?” Eugene’s happy tone was impossible for anyone to say no to. 

Well almost anyone, only she didn’t have time to say anything before Y/n was agreeing. Eugene took a selfie of the three of them, him smiling happily, Y/n smiling for the picture, and Wednesday looking stoic as always. Y/n was suddenly happy for her choice of eyewear, the oversized sunglasses veiled the way her smile hadn’t truly reached her eyes. 

“Good morrow, my young Nevermore kin. I am Misteress Arlene. A real OC.” Another actor, presumably in charge of the Nevermore ‘volunteers’, introduced herself. 

Eugene smiled at the attempt at a joke Arlene made, and Y/n realized she would do just about anything for the kid standing next to her. She adored him as if he were her brother, something that she had lost long ago. Way back when she was still human, but there was no time to dwell on emotions from the past. She had required volunteer work to do. 

“Now privy, put your cell phones on vibrate and make haste. For you are about to travel back in time to the year of our lord 1625.” The pilgrim lady instructs as she begins her tale and turns around. 

“I was still alive back then.” Y/n whispers to Eugene, who looks at her bewildered. 

“Really?” Eugene asks, believing every word she says. 

“No.” Y/n responds with a smile, before walking with the group. 

Arlene the pilgrim lady shows off the ‘settlement’ and explains bits of it as she does so. Y/n checks out, not caring what she had to say, or anything around her. She hadn’t even noticed Wednesday move up to right behind her shoulder, something on a normal day she would have noticed without question. Maybe she could blame the gloomy weather for the way she had been feeling, or maybe it had been her own mind. Either way, she was feeling down and couldn't help but give into the feelings. 

Suddenly she checks back into reality when Wednesday moves from her shoulder to in front of her. 

“I haveth a query.” Wednesday spoke, going along with the 1600’s act the park had going for it. 

“Pray be quick child.” The ginger woman responded. 

In the meeting house, which of Joseph Crackstone’s artifacts are on display?” Wednesday asked, and Y/n wondered where her sudden curiosity of Crackstone had stemmed from. 

She assumed it had something to do with the vision she had at Crackstone’s Crypt, or maybe it had to do with Rowan’s death and sudden ‘revival'? 

“It truly is a treasure trove, including original farm tools, tableware, even the Crackstone chamber pot.” Arlene explained. 

“Sounds faciating, I volunteer to work in there.” Wednesday said. 

“Pray, no. That exhibit is being renovated.” The pilgrim lady took her role as a pilgrim a little too seriously, and Y/n wondered if she ever caught herself speaking like this in front of normal people. “Today thou will all be working at the beating heart of Pilgrim World.” 

“Ye olde fudgery?” Eugene sounded excited. 

Next to him Wednesday had a homicidal look on her face, “More like ye olde diabetes in a box.” 

“Volunteers, prick up thine ears.” The lady rhymed, “Fudge is the lifeblood of our humble community. And samples equal sales, so grab a uniform and a box and make our forefathers proud.” 

Wednesday picked up a part of the uniform, “Is this for muzzling tourists?” 

Y/n glanced over to where Eugene ate yet another piece of the fudge, cringing at the idea of consuming that much chocolate. Y/n turned for a moment before looking back to see a boy grab Eugene, but before she could do anything she watched as he threw up on the boys. She had to turn around at the sight of the vomit. Y/n however did make her way to the boys, in an inhumanly fast manner, once they tried to put Eugene in the stocks. 

Y/n put her hand on the top part of the stocks, to prevent it from closing on Eugene, “Let him go.” 

“You wanna end up in the stocks too?” One of the boys taunted. 

“Do you really want to get your ass handed to you,” Y/n feigned a sweet voice, “by a girl?” 

The boy grabbed Eugene and shoved him from the stocks and tried to grab Y/n, who was easily able to dodge his hand, instead moving to trip him. He growled as he got up and tried to hit her once more, but she grabbed his hand, twisting it to a painful angle and shoved him into the wooden frame. 

“What are you two standing here for?” Y/n asked, turning to the other boys. 

“I can’t get into more trouble with my dad.” The taller of the two spoke, before they both walked off. 

“Wait, Lucas!” The imprisoned boy called out. 

Y/n gave Eugene an almost pitiful look, only he couldn’t see it through her glasses, “Let's get you cleaned up.” 

Y/n was reminded of when she was alive and she took care of her younger brother. Back when both of them were alive, but now neither would know the way their skin would wrinkle. Neither knew the feeling of growing up and getting old, only Y/n got to continue her life in this realm while her brother did not. 

Eugene sat on a hay bail while Y/n kneeled in front of him to wipe his face, gently holding it as she did so. Letting her mind wander back all those years ago when she had done this to her dear younger brother William. The way he would squirm away from her grasp, and the two would laugh. 

“You okay there, Y/n?” Eugene asked, concern for the girl lacing his voice. 

“Yeah, uh my eyes just got really dry.” Y/n replied, using the back of her hand to wipe her face, consequently smearing the makeup she had put on earlier that morning. 

Wednesday appeared out of seemingly thin air behind Y/n, “What happened?” 

Y/n jumped and clutched at her chest, as if her heart could stop once more from the fright, “Jesus! How the hell do you manage to sneak up on me?” 

Eugene explained the way Y/n ‘saved his ass’, “I don’t really have anyone other than Y/n, if you can believe it.” 

“You said it yourself, Hummers stick together.” Wednesday says, a warm tone of what Y/n could only describe as fondness. 

“You're Like my brother Eugene.” Y/n never opened up about her time alive, so her saying this surprised both parties, “Back before…everything he was the kindest little boy. I think that if he would’ve made it into adolescence he would have been a lot like you Eugene, and I have a feeling I would have had to pick some fights for him.”

Wednesday didn’t know just how alike her and the girl were. 

[toushindai]

totk spoilers but are we ACTUALLY meant to think it’s poetic or flattering or triumphant that Rauru was like “oh YEAH? Well in thousands of years this guy called Link is gonna kick your ass”

How much has he even heard about Link? He must have had at least one more conversation about him with Zelda because the Master Sword doesn’t come up in the Zelda and Sonia tear, and by the King’s Duty tear Rauru’s just like oh don’t worry, if we don’t finish Ganondorf off I’m sure your bf can handle him. As I’ve said before, his “We rely on your knight” line rubbed me the wrong way starting with its appearance in the trailer, and it really does not feel less entitled after watching said knight (and that legendary sword he carries) very very VERY nearly get one-shotted by Ganondorf at the beginning of the game. And Zelda knows this! What does she feel watching her Better Dad Substitute sacrifice himself and simultaneously sic the evil bad guy on Link—a siccing which explicitly shapes Ganondorf’s attitude towards Link at the beginning of the game? At what point did she have the emotion of “welp. I know why Ganondorf knew Link’s name now.” The musical blending of the LOZ theme/hero’s theme with Rauru’s theme seems to suggest that it’s not an emotion meant to be had at exactly that moment, but I cannot watch Rauru sneer “remember that name” without yelling HE DOESN’T NEED THAT INFORMATION at the screen.

I played through the GSI in Japanese recently and Rauru did seem a touch less entitled to Link than I’ve been reading him—mostly because of the formal, polite, outgroup-equal language he used with him—but I still can’t get over the extent to which Rauru heard about Link a few times and decided, sight unseen, that he was going to clean up Rauru’s mess. My man what made you think that. What gave you the right to decide that. And how frightening to be Zelda and watch Rauru pin all the world’s hope on her beloved knight who Ganondorf absolutely fucking wiped the floor with. We see this worry in her in the Master Sword in Time cutscene! To what extent can Zelda’s transformation and before that her petition to the other tribes of Hyrule for Link’s sake be understood as a forced action due to Rauru’s conviction that Link could do this no sweat? Almost entirely, I feel—but does the game know that?

I just. Isn't it intentional? Doesn't it have to be? The fact that Rauru already needs the correction, once, that he cannot and should not face the Demon King alone. Then his melodramatic claim that Link has got this on lock. Then Zelda being like 😬 not sure about this actually and going through the whole process of talking to the ancient sages + draconifying for the sake of the Master Sword. Because Rauru absolutely set Link up to fail and Zelda is the one making sure Link has the resources, including the support of others, he needs to succeed. And the game is so much about community, about not doing things on your own.

And yet the way the scene is scored and animated and the way all the other characters talk about Rauru's sacrifice seems to treat this as a a moment of culmination, of triumph. I am getting such mixed messages here.

Understand, I’m saying all of this with an aching fondness for this poor self-deluded hypocrite. And also teeth-grinding frustration. I think he deserves to feel suffocatingly humiliated when Link almost didn’t survive Ganondorf’s attack and I also have tremendous sympathy for the shame and terror that it might be far too late to correct his mistake that he must have felt as he waited for Link to wake up. Both of those things. Hopelessly lonely man who found people to love him and built himself into a role he was never adequate for. I wish the game looked at this a little more. I wish I could tell if the game intended this at all.

(This is not the most intelligently written post but I assure you I mean every word of it.)

[buckrecs]

Do you have any bucky x reader college au fic recs please?

idk if you’re accepting requests rn but if you aren’t you can just ignore this <3

College AU

masterlist | req masterlist

college au is one of my favorite aus because i feel like it brings out the 40s bucky🥺

ONESHOT

college nerd!bucky x reader by @sanguineterrain

“Take my jacket, it’s cold outside.”

cuffing season by @sinner-as-saint

Late at night, you’re at the campus library finishing up a paper. And it’s freezing. Like actually freezing, to a point where you’re not even sure if the heaters are working anymore. You’re still trembling in a dark corner of the study area when the cuddliest man you’ve ever laid eyes on walks up to you. When he sees you trembling like a leaf, the blue-eyed stranger offers to sit next to you and keep you warm for a while. Then, one thing leads to another and you soon find yourself walking home with him. And one thing is for certain, you want more than just his body heat. 

If It Were Summer by @pellucid-constellations

You met Bucky in Italy—a summer abroad with sweet gelato and even sweeter words. You never thought you’d see him again, and you were right. Because the Bucky at this frat party, the one with the smirk and the wandering eyes, was nothing like the one you knew. That didn’t mean he wasn’t still completely in love with you.

i’m special by @b6cky

y/n and bucky were always bickering, bucky loved to tease and make fun of y/n, y/n didn’t enjoy it as much as he did though. but bucky does something stupid and reckless much to y/n’s surprise.

the eggs benedict to your mass production by @mediocre-daydreams

“I’m not as good as you think I am.” X “Maybe, but you’re everything to me.”

Pretend by @buckyalpine

The perfect solution to a nagging problem 

Flirting and Football by @lovelybarnes

Bucky barnes and a college au where reader is the only one who isn’t interested in him basically

Anger Issues by @hailhydra920

You’re the only one who can calm Bucky down.

My Everyday by @pellucid-constellations

Bucky Barnes was aggressive, annoying, and—worst of all—a hockey player. Not your type. At all. But, unfortunately, your roommate. 

Lucky Day by @elixirfromthestars

Bucky, your childhood best friend, takes you to a baseball game to thank you for helping him with his chemistry class. However, between bets and kiss cams, luck seems to be the real game being played. 

Flirting and Football by @lovelybarnes

reader is the only one who isn’t interested in him

A Little Superstitious by @jadedvibes

The school's football team needs a win and a certain blue-eyed player could use a kiss for good luck to help make that happen.

What do they know? by @bucknastysbabe

My Everyday by @pellucid-constellations

Bucky Barnes was aggressive, annoying, and—worst of all—a hockey player. Not your type. At all. But, unfortunately, your roommate. 

Post-It by @crazyunsexycool

Time to Study by @navybrat817

Bucky told you he needed help with his studies, but you should have known he just wanted an excuse to kiss you.

pear conditioner and pretty scary movies by @spideysquake

you fall asleep on your best friend’s shoulder during a movie night, and it has him feeling some type of way.

Under The Sheets by @vanderlustwords

Bucky spends more time out of his dorm than in it with how much his roommate amorously makes love to his girlfriend. Luckily, his cute across-the-hall neighbor is generous about lending her place to him. Bucky’s unsure if he wants to hug or kiss his roommate for putting him in the situation he is in now.

Liquor and Loose Lips by @vanderlustwords

There are countless times Bucky has shared drinks with you. No matter how much he drinks, he’s always careful with guarding his feelings close to his chest. Maybe it’s the cocktail, maybe it’s the way the moon looks tonight, maybe it’s the way you look under the streetlight. Whatever it is, Bucky can’t hold it in anymore.

SERIES

Cuddles & Cocoa by @sparklefics

"I take it you’re here cause you read my letter." & "I'm sitting here, with this stupid pen in my hand, and damn I can't believe you have me writing right now."

For the Love of the Game by @pellucid-constellations

Bucky Barnes was a menace. NYU’s top baseball player, he was used to girls falling at his feet and could smooth talk his way out of just about anything. You hated him. He couldn’t figure out why. So when the novelty of weekend parties and quick hookups finally wore off—and his feelings for you began to grow—he made it his mission to fix it. 

Ladykiller by @mymoonagedaydream

By now you were pretty skilled at recognising players, but for some reason you just couldn’t fucking stay away from them.

No Such Thing by @sanguineterrain

You’ve been assigned to write a column for your school paper on the team’s spectacular running back. You don’t care very much for your university’s football team; you just can’t understand the hype, okay? Turns out your distaste for football bigheads was exactly on point: James Barnes is insufferable.

Passing Notes by @nastybuckybarnes

You sit at the same table ever day at the little café down the street from campus, each day with a different book. Often poetry. And Bucky Barnes is always in the table next to you, usually doing the same thing. He either reads, writes, or sketches. One day, a dropped notebook leads to... something? Will that something turn to dust after an eye opening realization?

relationship tutor by @samingtonwilson

Bucky, a relationship novice, asks for your help in dating your friend. Unable to say no to him, you agree despite everyone and everything telling you not to. 

Relax by @kinanabinks

Things with Bucky are easy, and he's the sweetest guy you've been with. But when you throw in a bitter roommate and untold secrets, things get real hard, real fast.

Save Me by @espinosaurusrexex

Bucky Barnes has never had it easy, which ultimately turned him into a caveman-like introvert with no desire to see the positive side of life. But what happens when the clumsily charming art student, Y/N, stumbles to his rescue, determined to show Bucky how truly wonderful the world is?

trillogy by @buckycuddlebuddy

he was toxic. most of the time you were with him, you were used for pleasure only, you knew that, and he wasn’t hiding it. maybe it was how good he made you feel that made you fell in love with him, or maybe it was the fact that he somehow made you feel like you were someone ─ but you fell in love with him. although you knew in the beginning that you shouldn’t have, it was way too late for that, now. you were in too deep. 

two thousand, five hundred and sixty-nine by @kinanabinks

you and bucky have been best friends since you were kids, but ended up going to colleges thousands of miles apart. your student experience begins terribly, but bucky is having the time of his life - you can't let him know the truth. because if he did, you know he'd drop everything to come and save you.

we’re fools. by @achillieus

for all bucky barnes knows, he hates clichés. and this thing between you two, happens to be the biggest one. 

Winter Canvas by @sebbytrash

Reader is an Art Major and needs a life model for a major assessment. The catch? It’s gotta be a stranger. Then you gotta remind yourself that it’s just an assignment...right?

Like I Want You by @tmpestuous

you and bucky have been best friends your entire life and it’s never been anything but platonic. so why do things get so bad when he gets a new girlfriend?

Cosmic Love | 2 by @jobean12-blog

You and Bucky are taking the same astronomy class and become study buddies and the rest is history.

Carnations by @viollettes

It’s a simple concept: Students can buy flowers for each other at the carnation sale. Red flowers are for love, pink flowers are for friendship, and white flowers are for expressing secret admiration. A carnation fundraiser, an iota of possibility, and a longtime secret crush on your hot best friend - what could go wrong?

[like-a-bantha]

Late Nights in Hyperspace

Summary: As the rest of Clone Force 99 sleeps, you and Tech spend some quality time in the cockpit of the Havoc Marauder playing games on your datapad.

Pairing: Tech & GN Reader (Could be read as romantic or platonic, no Y/N or physical description of reader's appearance)

Rating: G

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 1k

A/N: A friend introduced me to The Watermelon Game the other day and now I am obsessed! Maybe too obsessed, since this is what came of it (as well as a full circle of evolution with Star Wars fruit)! Wrote this silly little fic in between rounds of the game while I finish up the next chapter of Busted Hyperdrive, hope you enjoy! <3

AO3 | Masterlist

“You are still doing it wrong,” a deadpan voice mutters over my shoulder, I can practically feel the frustration radiating off of the man behind me, betraying that flat tone, “I have devised a strategy to avoid total failure, allow me to take the controls.”

“I know what I’m doing, Tech, relax.” My grip tightens around the controls almost posessively, hoping he didn’t pick up on the fact that any confidence in my voice is bogus. I know I’m flying blind, that's the point, but I’m not telling him that. I take a deep breath and plot my next move.

“I would strongly advise against that.” He’s leaned forward in his chair, his voice much closer than before, and his fingertips brush against my shoulder as he grips the back of my seat.

“Would you.”

“Yes, I would. Though, I know you do not plan on heeding my advice, please know my strategy would be much more effective.” 

“Would it.” I don’t crack, no, I keep my cool as I finally align the shot and take a deep breath before hitting the button. Bombs away.

The tension in the cockpit is astronomically, laughably high. If this were a holofilm the scene before me would be playing out in slow motion as Tech and I lean forward dramatically to watch the little cartoon jellyfruit fall from the top of my holopad screen to the jumbled pile of fruits below. It’d then cut to the horror on my face slowly transforming into triumphant delight, and Tech’s into shocked defeat, as it comes in contact with another jellyfruit, metamorphosing into a shuura and setting off a chain reaction. Fruits combine, growing larger as they bounce around the screen before settling at the bottom in a small pile. What once was a jumbled mess of fruits has become a single lamta, two meilooruns, and a handful of jogans.

I turn to Tech with a smug grin, “You were saying?”

After a moment, he finally pries his gaze from the screen in my hands to meet my eyes. It’s a rare occasion, proving Tech wrong, so I may as well savor it. I don’t get long, though, as the corners of his lips start to curve into the beginning of a smile, “That should not have worked.”

“But it did!” I nearly shout in glee, laughing quietly in hopes I didn’t just wake the rest of the squad, fast asleep in the racks behind us as we drift through hyperspace. “C’mon, you have to admit that was impressive. I’m only one away from getting the shi-shok and I beat your high score!”

“Your current score is quite the accomplishment. Though, I must admit, it would have been much more impressive had you planned it, dear,” he chides, leaning back into his seat.

“I mean, technically I did,” I shrug, returning my attention to the screen to line up the hovering jogan with the pile below. “Like, it’s the objective of the game. It’s all intentional by default, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” Tech chuckles behind me. He shifts forward once again when a dricklefruit appears at the top of my screen with another just behind it, “Place those on top of the meiloorun on the left.”

“Stop backseat gaming, I need it by the kavasa.” I shift the fruit to the right side of the screen.

“The transformation will disrupt the top layer, sending the smaller fruits to the bottom,” I want to disagree with him, but the longer I linger over the drop button the more sound his assessment seems, “Strategy, dear.”

I shoot him a look over my shoulder, I should’ve expected the knowing grin I’m met with. Taking his advice, I move the tiny fruit back to the left side of the screen and let it fall before dropping the next on top of it. The two fuse into a jellyfruit, and a jellyfruit appears at the top of the screen. “You didn’t know that was gonna happen.”

“It was highly probable,” he counters, readjusting his goggles with a confident smirk.

“Nah, I don’t buy it, no way,” I laugh as I drop the fruit, watching as they turn into a shuura with an animated poof, the force of it sending the matching fruit on the right straight to it. The fruits settle into a perfect opening for my next two moves, turning the meiloorun below into a second lamta, then, the final fruit, the highest possible combination in the game: the shi-shok. It’s the closest I’ve ever gotten, I’m well past my previous high score and I should feel victorious, but I can’t seem to bring myself to, “It feels wrong.”

“What do you mean?” I don’t turn to look at him but I hear the confusion in his voice.

“I didn’t catch that, it doesn’t feel like my win.” I bite the inside of my lip in thought, tapping my fingers on the side of the datapad.

“I did not mean to steal your victory, so to speak.” He leans forward once again, thoughtfully this time; his hand returning to the back of my seat, his fingertips ghosting over my shoulder. “This is entirely ‘your win’.”

I meet his eyes and find nothing but sincerity. I nod just once before turning back to the screen and dropping the fruit. Who knew watching cartoon fruits turning into slightly larger cartoon fruits could feel so cathartic. When my gaze returns to Tech, after the lamtas become a massive shi-shok and the fruits begin to settle, I can only smile.

His hand now fully rests on my shoulder and his smile drops to something just a bit more serious, “You now hold the highest score in the game. I will change that.”

Though I pick up on the humor in his voice, as much as he tried suppressing it, I play along and clutch the datapad to my chest, “Never.” Our little act only lasts a few seconds before we’re both trying to keep the volume of our laughter to a minimum.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! <3