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wosoamazing · 1 day

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Alessia & Olympic Journey's

Alessia x R (Physio!R & Athletics!R) Warnings: semi panic attack?? one part is light sickfic vibes but idk let me know if there is something I should add

You and Alessia had known each other since college having both attended UNC and been a part of their sport program, however she was a Footballer and you were a Track Athlete. You had met on one of the sport wellbeing retreats. They had mixed up the sports groups for a week, which allowed you to become close to Alessia and spoke everyday, so when you both ended up in Manchester after college it was a nice surprise, and you became even closer, at the end of one of the seasons Alessia asked you to be her girlfriend and well that was it.

She was playing at United at the time and you were one of the Physios for the women’s team at City. Them having been the only club that really understood what you needed to allow you to be both a physio and a high level athlete, working around your schedule, allowing you days off. It worked well, honestly so well it felt like a dream some days.

However she had recently moved to Arsenal and you had contemplated moving with her, well originally you weren’t, planning on moving but when some of the London based clubs heard about Alessia’s transfer they thought you might be looking to move as well, and considering your reputation they all jumped at the possibility and gave you offers. But none of them really even matched what you had with City, especially when City offered you extra benefits, not wanting to risk their best physio to a rival club. You had the ability to connect with the players at a level most didn’t, you were one of them in a way, and they appreciated that, someone treating them who understood exactly how frustrating a small niggle is, who understood the frustration of a bad game, to the girls you weren’t just a physio but someone to talk to, who was at the exact same level as them, not someone who had injured out, wasn’t good enough, or was now older and retired.

You stayed at City, but you didn’t take their new offer, how could you when what they were already giving you was so much better than the other clubs. However they insisted on giving you the added benefits, so you had every second weekend off getting to go up and see Alessia play.

_______

You and Alessia were spending the weekend together, which you currently didn’t know, even though she was sat up in the stands of the Manchester Regional Arena watching you train, you hadn’t noticed her, hadn’t unfocused for half an hour. It was something she admired about you, how much you poured your heart and soul into the sport you loved, how focused you were always, and how you never gave it anything but your all.

“I don’t get it,” Ella grumbled beside her.

“What?” Alessia asked, not moving from her position, she was leant forward slightly, chin resting on her hands, her elbows resting on her knees, eyes on you.

“Why does she like it? Why does anyone like it?” Ella asked.

“Why do you like football? Why does anyone like football?” Mary replied with a philosophical question to match Ella’s.

Alessia didn’t reply to Ella’s question, she was too focused on the way you had started to rub your temples between each run, and the way your eyes were now either squinted or closed now, she hadn’t seen them fully open in the past, however many minutes.

“Somethings wrong,” Alessia blurted out.

“Here we go again,” Ella rolled her eyes, as she did you sat down, legs bent up, before you slightly collapsed back to the ground, now lying down, hand covering your eyes, your coach bent down next to you, blocking Alessia’s view of your face, but she didn’t like the way your chest was heaving more than usual with your breaths. Ella let out a small “oh” at your actions regretting the way she teased Alessia just seconds ago

You stood up as your coach walked away, only just realising Alessia was there with Ella and Mary. You smiled slightly, gesturing for them to come down, which they did as you walked over to your bag.

“Hey baby,” Alessia said softly as she walked over to you, your arms immediately wrapping around her and your head dropping to her shoulder, hiding away in her neck, “you all good?” she asked, still concerned.

“Yeah, I just missed you,'' you told her as you released from the hug, only to be pulled into her side from her arm wrapping around your hips, letting your head fall to the side to rest on her shoulder once again.

“What are we doing tonight?” you asked the three girls, slightly hoping they hadn’t planned a crazy night.

“We are going to go o-owww” Ella started speaking, only to be interrupted by Mary stepping on her foot, the older woman noticing how there was definitely something off with you, also having grown slightly concerned.

“We are all going to go to our respective homes, Mary and Ella just came to support you at training,” Alessia informed you and the others of the new plan for the night, before kissing you on your temple.

“What do you want for dinner?” Alessia asked as you entered your home, hand in hand.

“I’m honestly not that hungry baby, I’m sure I’ll like whatever you pick” you admitted before dropping your bag at the door, and flicking your slides off “I’m just going to go have a quick shower,” you told her as you let go of her hand and walked in the direction of your bedroom. Alessia knew something was up, you never just left your training bag lying around, and usually when you had been separated for this long you would be asking Alessia to join you for a ‘steamy’ shower. She made quick work of unpacking your bag, before making some toast for you, plating it alongside two panadol and a glass of water, setting your room up exactly how you liked it, so you could just slip into bed once you finished your shower.

Alessia quietly knocked on the bathroom door before opening it, too much time had passed since the water was turned off for her liking and she was growing slightly concerned yet again. When the door opened she saw you standing leaning against the counter heavily as you gripped onto it for dear life, your towel now on the floor at your feet, having been wrapped around your body at one stage.

“Baby,” she said softly as she walked into the room, “do you need some help?” you bit your bottom lip as you sunkenly nodded your head, Alessia quickly jumped into action, helping you get dressed before pulling you in for a tight hug, “you don’t feel well do you?” she asked, to which you just shook your head, she silently guided you to your side of the bed, watching as you climbed in before handing you the two panadol and the glass of water, before moving to the otherside of the bed, and climbing in, handing you the toast, which you took a few bites from before placing it back on the plate and shaking your head, “that’s okay, thank you for eating something, why don’t you try and sleep now,” you nodded slightly as you slid down the bed moving to lye down, you laid on your side as you looked at Alessia longingly and she knew what you wanted, so she moved to lying down next to you, facing you she opened her arms, allowing for you to snuggle into her, your head burying in her neck, as her hands started to softly run over your back, sending you to sleep quickly.

Alessia couldn’t help but be content, she wasn’t going to get to spend the weekend with you the way she wanted, but she still got to spend it with you, and if she was being honest there was probably nothing she loved more than hugging you.

_______

“We might see each other,” you told Alanna as you worked on her for the last time that season, having both been discussing your plans for the summer, and the upcoming olympics.

“Yeah but we won’t see Alex,” Alanna joked as she looked over to the British player who laid on the bed next to her’s.

“I don’t know, with the amount of tickets Alessia’s bought I might be seeing Y/N at least,” she replied, to which you rolled your eyes. Alessia had bought enough tickets for every member of her family, and even ‘some’ of your friends, but it might be more than just some friends if Alex had a ticket as well.

_______

“Why is there so much stuff, surely they don’t expect it all to fit in there,” you said as you flopped back on your bed, exhausted from trying to pack all day.

“Will you just let me do it now,” Lotte asked and you nodded not wanting to look at it all again, you and the three UNC girls were all in their shared apartment as you and Emily were packing for your next month, specifically the olympics training camps and the actual olympics, you had planned to spend your last day before you all went your separate ways together, kind of like old times.

“Baby, treat yourself, once slice wont hurt,” your girlfriend told you as the four of you sat on the couch watching a movie, the others having ordered pizza, which you refused to eat.

“No, it’s fine don’t worry,” “Bu-” “No Alessia, you don’t understand, one slice will hurt, you haven’t seen me eat even a square of chocolate for months and yet you thought ordering pizza the night before I fly out would be smart, let alone telling me to eat a slice, I get it you’re not going to the olympics, but I am, and I am not letting months of draining go down the drain by even eating one single bite of pizza,” you stormed off to your bedroom, needing a minute to breath, immediately regretting your words.

“She didn’t mean it, she is just nervous,” Lotte tried to reassure Alessia, as she saw tears starting to well in her friend's eyes. Emily had already grabbed her keys and gone somewhere.

“I just, I didn’t expect it, she has been fine all day,” Alessia said to Lotte who nodded, “but- I-I’m, I don’t know, why didn’t she say something about the pizza?”

“She did,” Lotte muttered under her breath, hoping Alessia didn’t hear her.

“When?” “When you asked if we wanted Pizza for dinner, she said she wanted-” “a chicken salad from that place down the road,” Emily interrupted Lotte as she walked through the door holding exactly that, which caused Alessia to burst into tears, both girls rushing to her side.

“She is my girlfriend and yet I didn’t even listen to her, I-I-” “Less, no it’s okay, you’re distracted, you don’t want her to go.” Lotte told her.

“Go. Go give her the salad, say it's from you, spend the night in your room with her, but please if the salad makes her that happy don’t be loud, I need some sleep before I get on the plane tomorrow.” Emily said.

“Oh don’t worry about that, we haven’t done it in weeks, it’s too risky, she might get injured. But thank you. I’m sorry,” Alessia told your friends before she wiped her eyes and took the salad from Emily before walking into your room.

“I’m sorry,” Alessia said as she walked into the dark room, walking to her side of the bed turning on the lamp only to find you asleep on her pillow, “baby, wake up,” she gently shook you, and watched as your eyes opened “I, well Emily got you a chicken salad. I’m really sorry, I didn’t hear you, but I should’ve been listening and not been so focused on what we wanted, I-” her sentence was interrupted as you pulled her in for a kiss which quickly got heated before she pulled away and held her hand up, and placed the chicken salad in your hands, you moved over on the bed and patted the space beside you, so she sat down and you quickly curled yourself into her side, enjoying the salad, whilst she turned on the TV, you both understanding what had happened, not needing to talk about it, you both knew you were nervous and not excited to be away from each other for so long and it all just kind of boiled over.

_______

Alessia’s phone started ringing as she sat in her seat, waiting for your second event to start, it was due to begin in 15 minutes, so when she pulled out her phone to see your number flash up on the screen, she felt a wave of panic surge through her. She didn’t even get the chance to say anything when she answered.

“Alessia, you need to come down here now,” It was your coach, Alessia bolted up in her seat and immediately started walking, following the directions of your coach, she found him quickly and a lanyard was thrown over her head before she quickly followed the man to you. You were sitting on the floor against a wall, breathing quickly, looking panicked.

“Baby, I need you to breath for me, okay, you can do that, with me, in, 2, 3, and out, 2, 3, that's it keep going,” after a few deep breaths you had calmed down enough for Alessia’s liking, “what’s going on?”

“What if I stuff up again, I can't do it, I don’t want to disappoint anyone, I-” “Baby, that wasn’t your fault, that was the Swedish girls fault, everyone agreed, even the France coach was yelling at the officials at one stage, it was not your fault and it was unfair that they didn’t call it, but this is your event, the one you love. I promise you, I am so incredibly proud of you already and that wont change whether you get gold in this race or come dead last, you have done incredible to get to the finals of the 400m baby, and you won't disappoint anyone. But I know someone who will be disappointed if you don’t go out and at least try,” “Who?” you asked slightly nervous for the answer, “You,” she told you adamantly, and you knew she was right.

#woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #awfc x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo x y/n

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nonuify · 2 days

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ᝰ.ᐟ — SVT ⟢ dates with them

› sfw is included ┆ fluff — requested ꩜.

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL ;

now we all now cheolie loves spoiling you so so much !!, so I think he will take you to a fancy restaurant dinner.

he does all the classics he will give you a breathtaking bouquet of flowers with a shiny beautiful set of jewelry that he will probably fuck you later lols.

+ he’s heavy in pda while one a date either he has to hold your hand or waist, or even gripping your thigh, he thinks its a must that everyone knows you are taken by him.

YOON JEONGHAN ;

hannie loves nightwalks with you it’s his favorite time to go on a date with you, occasionally stopping at a lovely cafe to talk about everything with his favorite person.

deep conversations would submerge as the night goes by with you two, nothing seems better then having company with the person you trust the most, pouring your heart out in whatever conversation comes by.

+ he holds your hand to show a sign of affection for you, or the occasional “i love yous” throughout the date, or anything that you’d find romantic he will do it just to make you happy.

HONG JISOO ;

beach dates. that’s it. he’s so surfer boyfriend !!

having a lil picnic on the sand, talking to each other about anything that pops up, with sometimes wine glasses if your really feeling it, then going swimming & surfing with him, obvi most of the time you’ll be oogling your gorgeous boyfriend when he’s surfing.

+ takes you on dinner or lunch with an amazing view of the sea, he would hold your hand caressing it on the way of walking towards the restaurant.

WEN JUNHUI ;

cat café’s, yall are both cat lovers isn’t this already heaven??

having cats in your laps, all smiley & laughing with each other, enjoying the company of each other & your furry friends!!, taking pictures of each other & you admiring how cute & adorable your boyfriend is.

+ jun would be sulky if you pay attention to cats more than him, good luck for making it up to him by cuddling & kisses.

KWON SOONYOUNG ;

you & soonyoung would have a lil dance practice with each other, with you being one of seventeens choreographer it’s almost a perfect date for you both.

with him getting frustrated by not getting the move & you calmly telling him not to worry, the hyper bf & calm gf duo what’s more?, you guys then would sit in a corner eating takeout food & laying on each-other.

+ he needs kisses when he does the move right or he will sulk away, beware of the sulky tiger!!

JEON WONWOO ;

duh isn’t it obvious? sitting in home playing video games with each-other then cuddling till you sleep.

of course you have to sit on his lap while playing, he needs his fav person holding him in whatever way possible!, you would neck kisses from him here & there, & when you win the big prize is making out with the one only wonwoo.

+ when you guys finish, you build a cozy fort where you both cuddle & talk about anything to each other sometimes you guys would sleep almost instantly, with the loving warmth of each other.

LEE JIHOON ;

dinner dates at home where you guys make the food!!, uji comes home tired from work all he needs is a relaxing time with his lover.

i in-vision you & him making pizza dough, splattering the flour on each other while having the time of your lives, then him snaking his hand around your waist when you go to the furnace to cook up the side dishes & giving you the sweetest kisses.

+ when your both done with the food, your too lazy to clean it up so it’s just you & him going to bed not having worries till tomorrow, cuddling & warming up each other while watching a movie ( you both know, you won’t watch the movie ifykwim ;) ).

LEE SEOKMIN ;

oh totally little picnics in a park or a garden have you seen his insta pics?, my man is always with nature !!.

setting up the prettiest view in the park where you guys can just relax & be comfortable with each other & do whatever crosses your mind like playing games, talking or even just staring at the pretty scenery while enjoying each others company.

+ i think you & seokmin would go to a karaoke bar when night sets to party the night away with each other, singing your hearts out, mostly you admiring his beautiful voice.

KIM MINGYU ;

I don’t know why but he will take you to Paris to do whatever you’d like too, what’s important is you with him.

in the city of love where you explore every restaurant, café, museum & streets with your own love, & yall know mingyu is gonna pull some romantic strings here & there making a reservation at the classiest restaurant where you both can see the Eiffel Tower & enjoy yourselves.

+ I think mingyu will do that cheesy flowers on bed thing when you guys go to your hotel & of course some bottles of wine will be there, chilling on the bed with him till eventually yk…

XU MINGHAO ;

he will take you to a museum to admire the beauties of the arts infront of you when you know he’s the real beauty here.

going to each exhibit and him explaining how the painting is & how each and different elements of it was added while you sit there staring at the handsome figure infront of you, & you just stop & start smiling like an idiot questioning how lucky you are to have him.

+ I think you guys would do also a painting session with each other splattering it on each other laughing & you covering minghao with hundreds of kisses giving him a prize for his work.

BOO SEUNGKWAN ;

oh we know you guys are going to a lovely concert where you dance the night away with yourselves.

taking several videos & photos with him while singing your hearts out & dancing & giggling like the perfect couple you are then at the end where your favorite song played you guys hug welcoming each others embrace.

+ I think seungkwan would go to heaven while the melody would play through his ears while also watching you thinking how the song reminds him of you so much then pulling you into a really passionate kiss.

CHWE HANSOL ;

wether it’s at home or a whole ass cinema you didn’t care as long if it’s a movie with hansol you’d be happy.

cuddling & warming up with each other as the movie goes on, feeling his heart beating whilst laying your head on his chest then smiling warmly as you began to cherish every moment with him then him kissing your forehead & feeling him smile while doing so.

+ you & vernon would sleep in the middle of it idk why it’s just so you guys lol, but always cuddling while sleeping never forget that you guys would cling onto one another till the next day.

LEE CHAN ;

corny yes but I think chan is such a sucker for taking you out to carnivals & such.

I think you guys would do the photos where you take silly pictures with each other to cherish those memories & try winning some teddy bears for you guys to stash in your apartment soon.

+ oh chan is soooo clingy the whole date holding your hand or waist or whatever but at the end of the day he needs to hold you in some kind of way, also I think he’ll just buy a balloon for you there so when he gets lost he can see you from the balloon lol.

! 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ thank you for reading >ᴗ< !! hehe new setup kind of.

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hazelfoureyes · 2 days

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A Doe in Fall (Part 8)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 📍

Part 8 - Trust

Detective Brady is sharper than you initially thought, though Alastor is (seemingly) unfazed by the threat. While you both explore the idea of ‘home’ a familiar face shows up at your apartment.

「Warnings/Tags: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, Detective Brady exists a lot and maybe too much, fingering lol, phone calls, almost our first fight, stress, Disney mom rule, Ruth is pretty alright for now, Brenda」

forgot to tag you in the deleted scene for TRDFAHS

M👻D☠️N👽I😈

Your mother always said ‘Anger is your sword and shield’. So you postured yourself as someone mad. One hip out, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.

“Sir I don’t appreciate a man in a lady’s space.”

Brady bit his tongue, wanting to say something sharp.

I don’t see any ladies here.

He met the glares of the women behind you. “Ah, well-,”

“Do you really expect her to leave in her robe?”

“Aren’t you the man whose been stalking her?”

“Autumn I’ll go with you.”

“You want her to get into a strange man’s car?”

He felt like a fox about to be pecked to death by the hens.

“Now-! Alright I’m seeing I maybe,” he set your shoes down and slid past you and between the other performers, “got a little eager to speak to you.”

“Does Janet know you like to hang around burlesquers?” Someone said as his back was turned.

Like having ice water poured over his head, his shoulders tensed as did his tone. “I’ll be right out the door.”

You tried to hide the tremble in your hands, but failed. Ruth slid beside you, “What do you need?”

A phone. But the cord wouldn’t reach that far. You wanted to tell Alastor. You needed him to know that detective had you cornered and knew of his existence.

“Could you stay with me? I’m not going anywhere. But I’ll feel safer if I’m not talking to him alone. In case he tries to drag me out. He seems a little off his rocker.” You were genuinely scared he would grab you by the arm and pull you out of the theater if he didn’t think anyone would see.

She patted your back, the others filing in to continue with their work of getting dressed and undressed. You took your time, trying to plan what you would say.

Brady felt an embarrassed blush take hold as the women moved past him with scowls and tsks. He could feel a little bit of his sanity slip back now that you were in front of him.

“I have some questions about Tommy. I’ve been trying to talk to you for weeks. We can head down now.”

Oddly, your mother also taught you, ‘You catch more flies with honey than vinegar.’

She didn’t always make a lot of sense, contradicting herself daily.

Time to use the tried and true tactic, “I am sorry, detective. I had some trouble recently and have been keeping to myself… going home as soon as possible. Just trying to keep my nose clean. So to speak.”

Brady watched you look up at him with a face his daughter often gave him when she was in trouble. But you weren’t a child and you surely weren’t his daughter. “That’s no excuse to dodge me.”

Your turn to bite your tongue, “Of course, sir.”

Ruth was… confused. She’d never seen you so obedient. You had more venom in your voice after taking a hit from Tommy knowing a third could be close behind. Why were you being so small?

“Are you ready to go?” He fished in his pocket for his car door keys.

Ruth felt the need to interject, “She’s not going anywhere.”

Perfect.

You nodded, “I won’t be out at night, sir. You know better than most about the dangers.” Your dangers. Your darling Alastor.

“No, no no,” an unhinged chuckle from the fraying detective, “You’re not slipping away again. I have my car, I’ll take you there and bring you home.”

Ruth looked to you, then back to the detective, “Is she under arrest?”

Brady rolled his eyes, “Of course not.”

“Then? What gives you the right?”

Technically, nothing. He didn’t need to talk to you. His lead still stood. But maybe you’d slip and say something to expedite his search for the radio man. Maybe this would only end with Tommy. But he felt something tickling the back of his skull. An urge to not stop pushing.

“I’ll meet you at the station tomorrow morning. Is it the address on the card you gave me?” Maybe you would, maybe you wouldn’t. You just needed him gone so you could call Alastor.

He was shaking his notebook, key looped onto his finger. A nervous habit. “You still have my card?”

A smile, “Of course. In case any news came up. I’d have called but I didn’t realize you were so worked up.”

He scoffed. He wasn’t worked up. He was just annoyed. Maybe a little rougher in demeanor than usual but whose fault was that?

“If you don’t turn up tomorrow-,”

Ruth, taller than most women and some men and wide at the shoulders, leaned in.

Brady’s eyeline adjusted from yours to Ruth’s. Skye Scraper wasn’t just a pun, it was a cruel nickname she took ownership of. “Finish that sentence.”

The conversation ended there, Brady leaving with a huff.

You’d memorized the number the night Alastor gave it to you, too scared to write it down. He warned you though he wouldn’t be the one to answer.

“Is Alastor still there?” You tried to smile so you sounded less panicked. Ruth mouthed his name and pretended to swoon as you held the phone close to your ear.

“Uhh depends, who is this?” Brenda answered, a voice you’d never heard but a woman Alastor had primed you for.

“….”, but why hadn’t you thought through this part, what name was safe? Which was recognizable? You didn’t like the idea of this woman knowing your name. “Tell him it’s Autumn.”

“….”

You laughed at Ruth, waiting still for a reply from Brenda, “Hello?”

“Is this a crank? Autumn like the season? I-,” a commotion, “Hey there! No. I don’t know. Well it’s past hours anywa-.”

Alastor was lying across Brenda’s desk to reach the phone, having wrestled it from the woman’s grip, “I’m here. What’s wrong? I was about to leave.”

“I’ll walk home tonight.” It hurt, physically hurt, to say it.

Alastor tried to keep his face neutral, “Oh.” Nervous fingers twirling the cord, “One second.”

Harsh whispers, some clicks, and he was back, “I’m in my office. What happened?”

“Yeah Ruth is with me. It’s okay. I’ll call you like normal tomorrow?”

“Should I swing by your apartment?” He considered doing it regardless of your answer.

“Ah, no. I wouldn’t recommend it. I’ll be heading to the police station early tomorrow so I’ll be asleep as soon as I’m flat.” Putting your hand over the receiver, you spoke to Ruth, “Thank you, we got it figured out.”

His heart sank to his stomach, “Did he finally manage to catch you?”

“Yeah. Or—-,” your voice cracked a little, the fear rolling in as soon as Ruth walked away, “Yeah.”

“I’m coming over to the theater.”

Cupping the phone you curved your shoulders in and turned away from the staff milling about, “Don’t, that’s worse.” Tears stung your eyes. You felt like you’d failed him. You had somehow, hadn’t you? The loose thread Brady could grab ahold of was you.

“If you can’t come to the alley I’ll leave after a couple minutes. But I’ll be there in twenty, same time as our normal pick up.”

“Alastor, that’s reckless.”

“Please, dear, I don’t want our first fight to be over my work line.” A calming breath, “You don’t have to meet me, but I’ll be there. Just five minutes, then I’ll be off.”

You decided the safest thing to do was to wait in the alley. If you saw any signs of Brady or anyone coming out, you’d go back inside and just miss the meeting. But the idea of Alastor being just beyond the wall, waiting all alone, was too much.

But how much harder would it be if the wall was of the prison? Or worse, dense earth under your feet? That’s what Brady was wanting.

You hadn’t realized you’d been chewing your nails until his car turned down the alley from the back and you tore off much of the length of your thumbnail.

Your arms were thrown around him before he was fully out of the car, “Alastor, he knows I have a guy. He wanted me to go down right now but I managed to push it to tomorrow.” Alastor tried to decipher the words as you spoke them into his vest, “What do I do?”

Normally you’d have your own plans in mind but this was too big, this was capable of hurting him more than anyone else.

He smelled like ink and smoke, a scent you inhaled as you tried to calm your breath.

A large hand patted your head, “Okay. You go tomorrow. It’ll be fine. Don’t stress.” Pulling you off he placed chaste kisses across your face. “Think about what you want to say to him and we can talk it out in the morning. Everything is fine.”

The reality of you standing in a dirty alley crying into the arms of a murderer set in. Then the little detail you were both killers creeped over your chest and took hold of your throat.

He was impressed at the strength of your hands as you gripped at his clothes. Leaning against the car, he offered you his most charming smile.

“Deep breaths, dear. Do I look scared?”

He didn’t. He looked like a magazine ad for French cologne or razor blades that left the softest skin.

“No.” You shook your head.

“No.” He nodded. “It’ll be okay. If you don’t go, he will hound you worse. If you do go, maybe he’ll realize he’s got a handful of nothing.”

His smile blinded you. Bright grin as he rested against his car, arms open.

“Do you really think so? A handful of nothing?”

“Did he say my name?”

“No.”

“Did he–” he elongated the word, lips pursed as he searched the sky for his next words, “have Tommy’s body?”

You laughed, morbid but preposterous, “I didn’t pat him down. Coulda.”

Alastor snapped his fingers, “We’ll have to just assume he didn’t.” A moment of tension. The act of joking barely traversing the space between your bodies let alone reaching the stress under your skin. His hands came to your shoulders; firm, secure. “Did you want to have that fight now? About me coming over here.”

You rolled your eyes, obviously not. “Ala-,” you started and stopped.

“I’ll admit I’m being reckless but I think we can both agree my way is more fun.” Smile sliding into a smirk, he cocked his head and lowered it to get back into your line of sight. When you stuck your tongue out he took a deep breath in, relief. “Are you sure I can’t take you home?”

To which home, you wondered. He used the word so casually and interchangeably…

Face close to yours. Eyes solely on you. Perhaps the stage wasn’t as necessary as you’d once thought. Lips on lips, the feeling of his smile spreading as he returned the kiss. A second of panic as you realized you couldn’t see or hear or sense what else was happening anymore in the alley. Brady could have had you in handcuffs and you wouldn’t be the wiser. Not as long as Alastor’s mouth was moving over yours.

“I’ll call in the morning.” He said into your exhale.

You hadn’t opened your eyes yet. Not ready to return to earth. A pout from you. A chuckle from him. “I’ll be waiting,” You finally said.

While you did your waiting, shuffling around the theater and later tossing around in bed, Alastor fell into a different kind of purgatory.

One he hadn’t realized he’d made for himself until you weren’t there.

The house was quiet, almost eerie. Even with music on he found himself nearly uncomfortable. He shifted several times in his chair while reading, not finding any way to settle in.

His bed was lopsided. Suddenly one side was too light. Multiple times his hand slid under the sheets in search of you out of habit.

What a terrible feeling; to want someone. To know you could have them but they just… weren’t there.

It didn't make any sense. He knew he’d see you soon, in less than a day's time even. He typically enjoyed his home and its silence. Being alone was predictable and therefore comforting. Well, it had been. Before you.

The feeling in his chest, akin to a magnet tugging through his sternum toward a distant partner, didn’t abate.

Only when he heard your voice again over the phone did he find a sliver of peace.

“I’ve decided I’ll deny I have a guy. And, I’ll never tell him about you. It’s safer if he never connects us.”

Alastor was listening, honestly, but he wasn’t really processing. His mind was worried about something else. The detective genuinely didn’t bother him but he had to agree, “I suppose that’s best. As long as we can manage it, to not let him know we’re together.”

Together.

You were together with him. An item. How spectacular you must be to be a part of anything with him.

But for how long? With a certain detective breathing down your neck…, “I’m scared. Actually.”

You could hear the smile in Alastor’s breath, it was odd but eased you.

“He will never have enough to convict us. He’ll drive himself crazy trying. Trust me.” He soothed.

Did you have any choice? “Okay. You’re right. I trust you.” Unequivocally so.

He cleared his throat, “Sorry to change the subject…”

“Please.”

“I want you to come over again tonight. What do you think?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course, don’t even need to ask. I’ll always say yes.” All you needed to do was get through Brady and you’d be home.

But for Alastor, well, he wasn’t done asking the question. A moment of panic from a place unrecognized in his brain, fear of losing himself entirely. But what good was a safe harbor if he never ventured out to sea? That’s just a restraint then, isn’t it?

Maybe you held a place for him even richer in its comforts than his solitude.

So he let himself drift away from familiar shores, no sails and no compass, “I think it’d be smart to bring over a couple sets of clothes. I can keep them washed and always here for you. Would that be alright?” He had wanted to suggest it while together, but Brady was ruining more than his sleep.

Oh.

The same silence from when he first extended the invitation, the deja vu not lost on you. You struggled to decipher the second meaning you were sure was there. Maybe he didn't know what he had asked.

“I know it’s boring out in the boonies but, you’re welcome to just stay over while I go to work. I can come back and get you for rehearsals… I’ll enjoy the clubs or come back and make something for a late dinner for us, and bring you home when you’re done.”

He said it. He hadn’t really meant to, so he felt the need to clarify, but you also needed him to clarify just as quickly, “I -,”

“Did you me-?”

“Sorry, go ahead.”

“No I interrupted you-,”

“Not at all pl-,”

“Alastor for the love of God please don’t make me keep talking right now.” You lightly knocked your head with the phone a few times. Your heart was gasping for an ounce of understanding.

He chuckled, glad you were still very much yourself, “I meant, take you home as in, away from work. So, here. Or, there, if you’d prefer.” His face scrunched up, this wasn’t a conversation he had any practice in, “Anywhere really. I’ll drive you anywhere.”

“Alabama?”

He looked at the phone as if you were in it. Alabama?

“Like— the first time you asked me over.” You added quickly. A terrible joke, a bad callback that made it painfully obvious you committed everything he said to memory.

Alastor rested his cheek on the dining table, laughing into the wood before bringing the receiver back. You always offered him an out of uncomfortable situations, “Well the offer still stands. I'd be willing to even venture at least halfway across Texas.”

“The best half of Texas is on our side so that’s a generous offer. But, given our work schedules, I think your house would be much better. Time wise.”

He let his eyes close as he felt the coldness of the wood, “Is that a yes then? To bringing over a couple of items… for ease.” Was it a mistake? Would he regret it?

You were worth regrets. He had decided. He wanted you to say yes.

The weight of what he was asking wasn’t lost on you an ounce. You could see your window from the phone booth. You took great pride in your little apartment. It was your space and no one else’s. As a child you struggled to have your own anything, so you valued your home.

But could you call any place so far from Alastor a home?

It’s just a few items. You weren’t giving up your lease. It’s a baby step. One you could easily walk back if you needed to later. It’s not like you hadn’t spent every night possible already since that first offer.

“Yes.”

It was a plan that took your mind off cops. Have your interrogation, go home, then go home for a relaxing evening of jazz and drink.

The levity ended though the second you hung up the receiver. An obstacle between you and him still stood. You pulled out your bag but couldn’t find the will to pack it. Your hands were too busy as you chewed on your thumbnail again.

Brady noticed the uneven length when you sat down and set your hands on the table.

“Surprised you showed.” He opened his notebook and readied his pencil. “First things first, what is your legal name?”

A chill. You’d gotten your warning the night before to prepare something to say but ignored it. Your mind was flipping through words and images. Piercing all of it were the white reflective eyes of the deer along the road. You decided to lean into what you knew.

“Autumn.”

“Really? Never heard the name Autumn before.”

“Me either. Made for an easy stage name.”

“I’ll need to see your birth records, just to be sure.”

You sucked your teeth. “Ah, unfortunately…all that stuff was left behind with my mom when I moved.”

“And where can I find her?

“Corner of North Villere street and Piety.”

“And your address?”

You paused. His eyes rose and met yours. The radiant aqua from the cafe morning was now an icy color. “I don’t give my address out. You know where I work.”

“But you’re fine giving me your mother’s address? That’s cold.”

“Not as cold as she is, I’m sure of that.”

“Fine, I’ll find it in the census records.” He flipped the page, “Tell me about the dates Tommy arranged.” He tapped his notepad on the table like it was the starting bell of a fight.

You wished Alastor was with you, but also wished he would never enter that station. “Apparently many of the dancers agreed, got a cut. I had no idea about it until he,” you remembered the man and his ugly tie, “introduced me to a man who was very forward. I insulted him and ran off. Lost Tommy good money, apparently.”

“And who was that?”

You searched your memory, “S something. Mister Stein? I honestly wasn’t listening much after I realized what was happening.”

Brady nodded, “And then he knocked you around?”

You winced without meaning too, “Yeah. Got me good.”

Brady waited for you to continue talking, but you had learned this game. People know silence is uncomfortable and will use that against you. So you let the silence stay. Let the awkward tension build. You had limited time, he knew that.

He caved first. “And… the next date. Last time anyone saw Tommy. Tell me about that.”

Lying was second nature to you. You had killed for Alastor. You could do this. Deep breaths, slink into yourself. You imagined Alastor choked on the park grounds, wet and unmoving. Imagined him cold to the touch.

“Tommy said he’d kill me if I didn’t go. So I did. Promised me he’d stay with me for protection.” Tears welled. Bloody hands and a large rock. “But as soon as he got his money he left.”

Brady was writing, “And the man? What was his name.”

“Something foreign. Kerr-something. Or Car?”

He looked up slightly, “You’re pretty terrible at names.”

You wiped away your tears, “I had more pressing concerns at the time than trying to remember that man’s name. I was hoping I’d never need to know it.”

Brady hummed, “Yeah. And what did your beau think of this?”

Did you hide it? The flash of panic that rolled under the flesh of your face, “If I had a beau Tommy wouldn’t have made me do that. He said that himself.”

“Too bad he’s not here to confirm.”

“If he was we wouldn’t be having this conversation, detective.”

“Touché. Clever little lady aren’t you?”

Fuck.

You shifted slightly in your seat, looking downward in an attempt at being bashful. “That’s kind to say.”

“So why did,” he flipped through his book, “Beth say you stopped singin’ on Sundays cuz of your radio boyfriend?”

“Ah,” a weak laugh to hide the way your breath got sucked in with panic. The words ‘radio boyfriend’ punched the air from your lungs. “You must mean the rake. Took me for a ride at a club corner and sent me off in a cab to never see me again. Didn’t know he was in radio though.”

“Well now you’re lying and I don’t appreciate it one ounce ma’am.“

“What?”

“Beth says he’s been coming to your shows for nearly half a year.”

No acting necessary for this part. “What are you talking about? I met him at a club. We arranged a date and he picked me up at—“

“Beth’s dive.”

“…. Yeah. Well.” He’d been there before? So often? And you never noticed…, “That’s news to me, that he had been there for so long, it’s got its regulars though so...” You shifted again, this time with a clear uncomfortable edge.

“He stopped coming when you stopped singing.”

“….guess he got what he wanted then. A fun time in the swing hall bathroom.” Anger. Unreal and unfounded. Trying your best to hide how confused you were.

“Sounds like a stalker, miss. Maybe one who woulda been quite unhappy to hear you were selli-,”

You cut him off, eyes snapping up to meet his, “I really recommend you reconsider your wording.”

Brady laughed with a huff, “A man dizzy with a dame can do some funny stuff. Especially if he hears she’s in a pickle.”

“Well, no knight coming to rescue me. I’ve sworn off men. It’s why I’ve been leaving work early. Getting home, reading, sleeping. He really did a number on my heart and my pride as a woman.”

Brady’s pencil stopped moving.

“And his name?”

You’d never fucking say it. He could walk in on you moaning ‘Alastor’ and you’d still act like you’d never heard that string of syllables in your life.

“John.”

Brady laughed and tossed the pencil to the table, “Let me guess, last name Doe?”

You shrugged, “We weren’t on a full name basis. He was handsome, he took me out, we fucked, I never saw him again” You delighted in the way his face screwed up at your unladylike language.

“So, someone in radio named John. You know I’m going to be at every broadcaster talking to every John, right?” The nervous shaking of his notebook again.

“When you find him let me know.”

“Oh I will.” He said it so quickly, so sharply you could feel it cut at your cheek as the words flew past you.

You pulled your hands into your lap, eyes firmly locked on Brady’s. “You look tired, sir. I hope my answers will help you. So you can rest.”

“I am tired. Of people jerking me around. You won’t give me your address, you don’t remember anyone’s name, not even your own, and you deny having a man I know you have.”

If you screamed would he have you committed? “I’m terribly sorry,” you leaned over the table and pulled a piece of fuzz off his shoulder, “my friend gave you inaccurate and dated information. I am genuinely trying to help as much as I can.”

Upon closer inspection, his eyes were more than just blue. They were dark and light, deep and shallow. Blue so far down it was nearly black. A blue so bright it was a cousin of white. Eyes you were sure would haunt you.

“Help me then, Autumn.” Your brows rose at the request. He leaned back and away from you, “Just tell me what happened to Tommy. What your guy did. If he was trying to protect your name then we could find a sympathetic jury.”

Sympathy? Your smile was too wide, stare gone too soft. What sympathy did he have or would anyone have for you? Did he think you wanted the tender hearts of strangers? “Tommy ran off with a bag of money. He was a good man with a bad habit. That’s all I know. I have no partner, man or otherwise.”

A standstill.

Brady felt a twitch in his hands he wasn’t used to. An itch to move. Unlike him, and a little frightening.

Maybe he had been running himself ragged.

Back sliding down slightly in his chair, he laced his fingers and rested them in his lap, “You know I’m gonna find out what happened, right?” His tone had shifted to something serious and calm. He said it like he was telling you a secret. Low but firm. Steady and sure.

Those eyes. No, worse. What was behind them. You could see it clearly; unflappable determination. He absolutely would.

“I trust you will.” A moment of silence again as you both felt the conversation die. As you stood, Brady did too.

“I wasn’t bluffing about him going to Beth’s for more than half a year now. I don’t know how you think this is gonna end but it won’t end pretty. Whether it was just your boss or all the others on my desk, end it with him and help us bring Tommy home to his mother.”

You adjusted your purse on your shoulder, “I don’t know how many time-,”

“Autumn. I’ve seen enough make up covered bruises to clock em from across the room. That’s the act of a possessive, immature man. Just think about what I said,” You opened the door in an effort to keep your hands from shooting to your neck. “There’s no white picket fence or church bells for you two. He’s a bad man. I think he may even be an evil man. You’re gonna end up hurt, or dead.”

A laugh bubbled up in your chest but you managed to stifle it. With an honest smile you replied, “We’re all gonna end up dead someday, Detective. I’ll call if I have any news. Thanks for your concern and … evident hard work.” You offered a little nod of your head before leaving the room and the station as quickly as you could without running.

When he set down his notebook after returning to his desk, he couldn’t sit. Energy was buzzing in his limbs. He needed to run or swing or pace.

His desk neighbor watched him immediately pick up the notebook again and grab his hat. A few other men shared a glance as Brady rushed out, an unsettling feeling passed among them.

“He’s still on that case?” One asked quietly, going back to his papers.

“Not officially….” Answered Freeman, standing at the window and watching Brady flag down a taxi.

“North Villere street and Piety, please.” He told the driver, not noticing his friend in the window.

It wasn’t near the station, nor the dance scene. He wondered if your mother would be any more amiable. What kind of woman would raise such a creature as you?

When the car slowed, Brady clicked back into his surroundings. He looked through every window hoping to see something different.

After a long pause the cabbie asked, “Ya gonna get out?”

His knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of the seat. “No. Take me back to the station.”

His blood pressure rose so quickly he was sure he would black out as the cab turned around and drove back past the sign; Vincent DePaul cemetery.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Alastor kissed away the worries when he took your bag from you. Every detail of the interview was just hummed away. “Even if he finds me, without a body he has no case.” He reminded you like it was nothing short of fact.

“What if he gets one?”

“Not one of mine, I can assure you. He’d sooner need to kill someone himself and call it my fault.” A pause, was that something the detective would do? He shook off the thought.

He was so confident that even though you knew it was just skin deep it still gave you a sense of calm. The bodies, where they went after he was done with them in the greenhouse, was the last step he hadn’t shared with you.

There was one thing you didn’t mention about the interrogation.

You waited until you were a few drinks in, Alastor’s bowtie off and shirt unbuttoned several buttons before bringing it up. Uncharacteristically nervous about how he’d react when you broached the topic, you needed several deep breaths to get up your courage. Normally the idea of offending a man with an honest question wouldn’t ruffle you a bit, but once again there was nothing normal about you and Alastor. He made you so unlike yourself but not necessarily worse. Perhaps some consideration of other’s reactions wasn’t a bad thing.

“This is awkward to ask.” It was dark already, the sun setting earlier and earlier. The buzz of the kitchen light could be heard through the screen door, the light just enough to let you see each other's features clearly. Leaning back on both hands for support, your legs rested in an unladylike spread down the porch stairs. No shoes. No girdle. No pretense.

Would he be mad? Or maybe offended?

“Brady said you had been going to my Sunday shows for awhile. Months before we actually met. Did you really meet me by coincidence?”

“Or was I stalking you as my next victim?” His head fell to the side, eyes closed and smile wide. “I saw you there, yes. And though you weren’t the best singer, I did enjoy your shows.”

You tried to see him without directly turning your head.

“But yes, it was a coincidence. I had noticed that brute of a man a couple weeks in a row, staring at you so intensely. Word got around he had made a scene some time ago with a dancer.”

You listened like someone was telling you your own story. It was an odd feeling, hearing someone recount your days from a different perspective. An unknown one.

“I was surprised to see you at the theater when I followed him there. Even more so to see you in the alleyway.”

If he had said it wasn’t a coincidence, you genuinely didn’t know what you’d have done. You’d be scared and angry. Another predator lurking just past the tree lines.

Your relief must have been visible. “He really got to you, didn’t he?” Alastor asked, leaning over and letting his shoulder bump into yours. He was still riding the high of putting away your belongings in his closet and drawers.

“Yeah. He gives me a bad feeling. Like…a brick wall barreling toward me.” You kicked a leaf off the steps, “Or like, when you see a big dark cloud on the horizon. Can’t do anything but wait and hunker down.”

How do you wait out a storm so set on burying you?

“Dear,” his hands rose and palms flipped up in a way that said he wasn’t hiding anything, “We get hurricanes annually. We’ve survived every one thus far. He’s just a drip. A sprinkle of a man.”

People have drowned on land before. A sprinkle could lead to pneumonia and that could lead to a wooden box.

He tried to change the topic, laughing about Brenda’s reaction to the call and making plans for an evening out when things settled down again. You listened, but it was your turn to be half there.

You could barely muster concern when you realized you’d forgotten your makeup and hair wrap at home when you were preparing for bed. What you would give for going home barefaced with a ruined hairdo to be the biggest stress of your week.

The distance in your stare was weighing down his joy, how could he relish in the newest addition to his home when you were so burdened? Even in the moonless night he could see the faintest light reflecting off your eyes as you stared at the ceiling. Did you even feel his stare?

He couldn’t let Brady poison his bed, and the man was clearly there now. Chasing you in your mind still.

“Could I offer you a distraction?” Alastor slipped up against you, hand finding your hip. He could see your smile forming.

“I wouldn’t argue against a distraction…,” you’d beg for one if you didn’t want to feel any lower than you already did.

“Perfect. This bed isn’t made for three, so let’s eject that little nag, dear.” His hands slipped down your legs, “I want to replace your thoughts with better ones.” He pulled you to him, your back pressed into his broad chest. The way his soft hands smoothed over your silk slip felt like foreplay, so smooth and slick. Frictionless and gentle. Those same hands ran down and between your legs, following the line of your thighs until they found your center. “It seems you forgot something else.” Two fingers caressed your lower lips, barely parting them, “Not that I’m complaining…,” his lips found the back of your neck as his fingers rubbed gently at your core.

It took so very little to get your body on board, wet and relaxed for his practiced hand. Your own fingers coming down to rub at your clit quickly when you felt your pleasure winding up.

He sighed directly into the shell of your ear, hands working in tandem with yours under the covers. His back pressed against you, hips rolling into your backside in time with his fingers.

“What are you thinking about?” Barely above a whisper as he said it into your heated skin.

“Fingers.”

“Whose?” His voice was deeper than his usual speaking tone. A tenor that made you clench around him.

“Yours.”

You’d never been so satisfied with hands before. With breath. With the sounds of a man. Never saw stars while clothed and not under the lights of the stage. Warm and wet kisses to your neck as you came down from your high, you’d never considered sex could be more than a man fucking someone. Nor that a man could find pleasure so readily with his cock still in his pants. But the way he hummed and growled softly into your skin was proof of his good time.

You’d learned a lot from those progressively chillier nights at Alastor’s over the first week of your constant cohabitation. How much you liked waking up with someone just a reach away. How Alastor woke slowly, incapable of coherent speech for at least the first twenty minutes of his day. He’d stare and smile as his eyes blinked out of sync, rolling back occasionally as he fought the urge to fall back into sleep. Hair disheveled and soft.

When the weekend came, Alastor offered again to take you out. A promise to take you somewhere no detectives would be hiding about. A week without a peep, you were sure he had followed up with your mother and was probably steaming to get at you. But, for some reason or another, he hadn’t appeared again in the crowd of your shows.

A week of going into work unmade and unkempt, you finally gave in and asked to be taken to your apartment early Friday. You’d grab a few items you needed, take them to work, and be back home that night.

Your eyes were on Alastor when his car pulled up to your building. When he kissed you, your hand scratched at the shorter hairs at the nape of his neck. Eyes closed, you could smell him and feel him so much clearer. Perhaps when you were old together you wouldn’t have to worry about your sight giving out, you thought. Because you’d always know it was him by the way his skin on yours lit you up.

“Pack something you’d like to wear out tomorrow night.” He reminded you before you pulled yourself from the car and waved him off. You lingered for a moment as he drove away, wondering if maybe the storm had been pushed off course.

“Oooh, who is he?”

Whipping around, you saw a familiar face sitting on the stoop of your building. An unwelcome one, though.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Mavis?” Your bag fell from your hands as the strength drained from your limbs.

She patted the dust off her dress before bouncing down the steps. “The names Ephi now.” A half sister, though perhaps a quarter sister would be best to describe the often absentminded, when not literally absent, sibling.

“That’s not a name that’s a fucking letter of the alphabet. Mama would smack the color of your cheeks if she heard you.” You were sure you’d not see her ever again, not after she ran off to head north before your mother passed. She scowled, arms crossed as you brushed past her. “I don’t have any money so you wasted a trip. See ya in another decade.”

Ephi grinned up at you as you climbed the stairs, “Looked like he had some money. Mr. Big Shot and his shiny bus.”

“Lotsa people have cars.” Your eyes landed on the suitcase poorly hidden behind the steps. Hand halting its search for the building key as you could feel the stare of your mother looking…down? A weight slipping over your shoulders like a man’s heavy winter coat.

“Well I don’t need money or cars. I need a place to crash.”

Your head fell. You could feel it coming. The gust of wind dragging the clouds slowly towards you. No, the storm wasn’t off course. It was just building momentum.

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

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putellasawfc · 3 days

Text

mapi leòn as a girlfriend is the type to …

gf!mapi is the type to … ramble on at bedtime, the clock ticking away into the early hours of the morning but she can’t sleep, so she decides you can’t either as she goes on and on about anything and everything. “do you think mermaids exist?” “what if the world is going to end but the government just don’t want us to know?” “should i go blonder?” “we need to book that vacation tomorrow before it’s too late.”

gf!mapi is the type to … beg you to let her tattoo you, she just won’t give up no matter how many times you tell her you’re not looking for a tattoo yet. she assures you she knows what she’s doing, she’s even drawn out a few ideas for you without you knowing. she just really wants to be the one to give you your first tattoo.

gf!mapi is the type to … get clinger, the more exhausted she gets. after a gruelling training session, or an intense match, the woman is hanging off you any way she can. her arms linked with yours, fingers intertwined, hand on the small of your back, arms wrapped around your waist with her chin resting on your shoulder and her favourite of all: getting a piggyback ride back to the changing rooms.

gf!mapi is the type to … be the first person to jump on you to celebrate when you score a goal, whatever type of goal it is. a simple tap in that didn’t take much? she’s all over you. a long range shot that hits the top corner beautifully? she’s cradling your face in her hands with the cheesiest grin on her face. you get the match winner in an important game? her arms are wrapped around you like you might disappear if she doesn’t hug you hard enough.

gf!mapi is the type to … be almost brought to tears when she sees how well you and bagheera bond so quickly. it’s no secret that, that cat means everything to her, and if you didn’t get along it wouldn’t be the end of the world but she’d be upset that her two favourite beings weren’t clicking. but she doesn’t have to worry about that. not when she returns from the store and spots the two of you cuddled up together whilst taking a nap on the sofa.

gf!mapi is the type to … take an excessive amount of pictures of you till her camera roll is 80% you (& bagheera). she’s always snapping photos of you, even if you’re doing something as mundane as folding laundry. she thinks you’re the prettiest girl she’s ever met, and she makes sure to remind you everyday. you cringe at some of the pictures when she shows you, some of them not being the most flattering. but she just playfully swats you away, grumbling under her breath with a frown. ‘stop being mean to yourself before i get it printed out and stick it on the living room wall.’

gf!mapi is the type to … miss you so much when you have to go on international duty. you’re never usually gone for long unless it’s for a big tournament, but she counts down the minutes until you’re back almost the second you leave. phone calls, texts, facetimes and social media interaction’s just aren’t enough for her. she needs to have you back with her in person asap.

gf!mapi is the type to … buy your football shirt and wear it proudly with the most adorable smile on her face. she has every barcelona shirt with your name and number on the back, wearing it whenever she would come to watch the team whilst she was out with injury.

gf!mapi is the type to … talk about the two of you getting married so casually, as if it was inevitable. she’ll randomly suggest places for your honeymoon, ‘venice would be nice wouldn’t it? or would you prefer somewhere colder?’ or she’d point out decorative bits and claim that would look nice on the table during the reception, as if you were already engaged.

gf!mapi is the type to … be annoying at the most inconvenient times. you could be watching a movie that you’ve been dying to see for weeks, and she’ll start fidgeting beside you, which eventually leads to her talking your ear off, and then suddenly she’s tugging on your arm and poking you, and trying to tickle you because she’s unhappy with the lack of attention she’s receiving.

gf!mapi is the type to … comment the stupidest things on your instagram posts. she’ll do it sat beside you, giggling away to herself as if she’s the funniest person in the world. you’ll post a picture of yourself during a training session, and no sooner than five minutes later there’ll be a ‘working hard or hardly working? 😏’ comment appearing. you have to fight the urge to delete it.

gf!mapi is the type to … paint your nails for you when you’re struggling to stay between the lines, especially when you’re using your non dominant hand to paint. she’ll take over for you when you ask, her tongue poking out whilst she concentrates, taking her job very seriously.

gf!mapi is the type to … argue with the ref until she’s red in the face when you get fouled, and the ref decides it was a clean challenge. her arms are thrown around as she tries her best to not raise her voice, absolutely appalled that the ref is letting the player get away with the foul on you with no consequences. she’ll make sure you’re okay, and then target said player for the rest of the game.

gf!mapi is the type to … have you try new skincare products with her. she’ll buy a big package of different lotions and oils and creams, eager to try them out and get her skin gleaming. but she wants you to get in on the action too, the two of you will have plenty of self care nights which include taking stupid selfies with face masks on and a lot of kissing.

gf!mapi is the type to … make sure you know how much she loves you everyday. she’ll make sure your favourite foods are stocked up in the house, she’ll give you a foot massage whilst you watch tv together, she’ll call your name just to say ‘i love you’ every so often, she’ll give you her jumper to wear the second she suspects you’re getting chilly, she’ll randomly message you huge paragraphs about how much you mean to her when she’s feeling a little sentimental. she’ll make sure you never question her feelings towards you.

#mapi león #woso fluff #woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon fic #mapi leon imagine #mapi learn headcanons #mapi leon one shot #fcb femeni one shot #fcb femeni x reader #fcb femeni imagine

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nkogneatho · 4 hours

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Y'all know those insecure girlfriends on tiktok when their boyfriend does their makeup accurately, they go “what bitch taught you that?” yeah, Gojo is the male version of that.

He knows he is attractive, and that everyone dotes on him. But you look out of this world. Everybody wants you. Like all of his friends have tried to hit on you a few times. They said it's just playful, but his insecurities kicked in.

One evening, you showed up to one of his totally unserious basketball games with his homies, cheering him every time he dunks.

“Suguru, my girl's watchin'. Gotta show off a bit, yeah?” he smirks, licking his lips his reflexes were so good that barely anyone else could keep up with him. It was like he had drank 10 liters of energy drink with the sudden speed boost.

You hopped in his arms when the match was over, peppering his face with kisses as he enjoyed his victory, showing a middle finger to suguru to which he rolled his eyes.

“you look so cool when you jump so high, toru!” you squealed in happiness. He really did look cool.

“hehe, you liked that, baby? Jumped a little higher just for you.” he kissed your forehead.

“hate to say it, but he is undefeated.” suguru spoke up. “feel like we need to put you on the court, y/n just to distract him so we can win.” your cheeks started burning up at that. You and satoru have been dating for a few months, but you were still not used to the way everyone talks about him as if he's a simp for you. well, he is and should be.

“i would still win though.” your eyes shifted to gojo. You were a little offended at that, even though it was just messing around. It was his habit.

“alright. Let's have a 1v1” the men did not miss the shift of your tone. Suguru knew satoru might be in trouble, while the white haired wasn't worrying about it too much. Because you're not too savvy with basketball aside from what he's taught you, and he is a pro. Sure, you would be mad later, but nothing he can't make up to you.

The boys spread in corners, as you and gojo exchanged a competitive gaze—yours was competitive and his was more of a “i love when you get riled up”—before the match began. The game was not anything serious, so all you had to do was score five points. It was a piece pf cake for gojo but you were being surprisingly competitive. You scored two points just as soon as he did. His homeboys thought that gojo was going easy on you but suguru knew he was struggling. But he lives up to his name and score two points, making him just 1 score away from his sweet victory. There's no way you can win now. If you miss this chance, it's over. But you remembered something someone had taught you and all that “i'd still win though” just pumped up enough adrenaline and oh. my. god.

Gojo's jaw dropped as you shot a three pointer, your lips widening into an evil grin, and all the boys cheered at your win. You were sure they're gonna tease him about today until eternity. Toru was impressed…well, for a few seconds before he hit you with a,

“which motherfucker taught you that? because I don't remember teaching you this yet.” you were laughing but his reaction was genuine.

“hey, c'mon now. don't call me a motherfucker.” suguru slid in, a hand resting on gojo's arm. “i'm a good teacher, aren't I?” he winked at you.

“the fuck? When the fuck did you teach her?”

“last week when we were playing at toji's party.” gojo was too busy playing beer bong at that time.

“thank you, suguru. And you…" you looked at your man, "where is allat “but I'd still win though” attitude?” you mocked him.

“ight fine. you got me. i was just messin' around and ya'know that. don't get mad at me, baby,” he snaked an arm around your waist. “we're both winners. We gotta celebrate properly, right?” he leaned closer to your ears.

“now let's see who wins in the bedroom, tonight. hmm? You know i gotta settle the score, princess.”

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you

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dira333 · 1 day

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This Is Me Trying - Kageyama x Reader

there's one line missing that I'd have loved to include but I am still pretty okay with how this turned out instead.

Tagging: @alienaiver for helping, @screamin-abt-haikyuu and @lees-chaotic-brain for Haikyuu

“Where’s Kageyama?”

The rest of the team turns at Hinata’s question, but their first-year setter is nowhere to be seen.

“Not this again,” Daichi mutters in frustration, thinking back to Hinata’s missing shoes the day before. “We’ve got twenty minutes before our next game. I want us to all go in teams. Hinata, you’re with me. I cannot have you get lost as well.”

- Meanwhile -

“How long have you been playing volleyball? Who taught you? How long have you been a setter? How do you train? Do you get along with your team members? Have you ever hit a wall?”

“Huh?” You turn to the guy creeping up behind you, a bag clutched in his hands as he stares you down. Your teammates are sending both of you curious looks and you can tell that your Captain is just a second away from interfering.

“Can I help you?” You ask, surprised when he flinches away, stuttering.

“I- am… I am Kageyama Tobio.” He bows so abruptly and so deeply that you fear for his spine. “I saw you play yesterday.”

“Ah?” You blink. “What school are you from?”

“Karasuno.”

“Oh,” you blink again. “I saw you play as well. You’re their setter. What year are you in?”

“First. Your serve-”

“Alright, alright.” You pull him to the side by his arm and wave at your Captain before she can do something more drastic. “I have to say your drive is admirable, but you’re not the first person to ask for my secrets. Why would I tell you?”

Kageyama considers that for a second, brows furrowing. He’s really not good at making his face work for him. It might look cute though, if he relaxed a little.

“I wanna stay on the court the longest,” he declares, face set in a scowl that could turn milk sour.”

“Again, you’re not the only one. You gotta impress me a little more, Kageyama-kun.” You snip two fingers against his temple, watch him almost short-circuit at the sensation.

To your surprise, Kageyama bows again.

“I want to spend more time playing with this team. I am not good with people. You are good with people. I need to learn more.”

“Fine,” you tell him after a second. “Gimme your phone.”

He doesn’t stop watching you as you type in your number. “If you win today as well, you can send me details about your play. Don’t forget to tell me where you’re staying. I’ll come by and we’ll talk about it, okay? Can’t promise it will help, though.”

“Kageyama!” Someone yells at that moment, and he turns to find two guys waving at him. One of them has a shaved head, the other has a bleached strand of hair sticking up like a lightning strike.

“Good luck,” you tell him, patting his shoulder. Kageyama leaves with one last look back at you.

“You’re in trouble!” Shaved head sings as he joins them. “Daichi’s mad as hell, looking for you. All because of a cute girl?”

“I didn’t- She isn’t-” He looks back as if to check, blushing bright red when he spots you still looking at him. “I wanted to know more about her technique, that’s all.”

Both guys laugh loudly. “You really are something else, Kageyama.” The guy with the Lighting Strike declares and then they’re gone.

“Why did you give him your number?” Your libero asks when you join the team again. “Aren’t you afraid he’s going to murder you for your skin?”

“No,” You laugh softly. “He reminded me of someone, that’s all.”

Karasuno wins. So do you.

No one pays you any mind when you slip out of the hotel you’re staying in, jogging down the streets to where Kageyama’s team is staying.

“Oh,” Shaved Head spots you at the front door. “You’re the cute girl Kageyama found.”

“I am,” you grin, “I’m looking for him. Is he around?”

“Kageyama!” He hollers down the hallway. “Uh, he’s in the bathroom, I think. I’m Tanaka by the way. What team are you playing in?”

“Niiyama,” you explain and his eyes light up. “No way, you’re playing with Kanoka.”

“Exactly. You know her?”

“Yeah, we’re childhood besties. So, you won today, right?”

“Yep. Don’t know if she told you, but we’re thinking about making Kanoka Captain next year.”

“You are. Wow. Does she know alrea-” “I’m here!” Kageyama declares from the door, wet hair sticking to his flushed face.

“Oh, you showered already?” You ask, “I thought we could do a run-”

“Right away,” Kageyama declares, already slipping into the shoes by the door.

“Forget it, hotshot,” you put a hand on his shoulders and drag him away, “not when your hair is still wet. You’re going to get a cold. It’s fine, it’s fine, we can still work without running around.”

And you do. Even though you have to pretend you don’t notice every single member of his team walking by, peeking into the little lobby, trying to catch parts of your conversation with him.

Kageyama, however, will not let himself get distracted. He’s sucking up every word you say and, as soon as you’ve figured out how he thinks, is able to discuss ideas with you at an impressive rate.

“So…” You lean back a little after almost an hour, ignoring the little red-haired guy who’s sitting at the door, listening in. “What are your plans? Do you want to become Captain in your Third Year? Make it to Nationals every Year? Play professionally after High School or go to College first?”

“I don’t have good grades,” Kageyama points out. “I just want to stay on Court for as long as possible. Play my best.”

“Hmmm,” you get up. “Tell you what. You have my number. Make it through these Nationals and go back home. Let me know how you’re feeling next school year, okay?”

“Okay.” He shakes your hand and bows deeply, staying far too long in the open doorway, looking after you as you leave.

You don’t feel you’ve done a lot for him today. You just listened, explained a few things, told him about your perspective.

But he’s acting like you’ve changed his world and you wonder if you did. And if so, in what way…

Kageyama’s sleeping on your bedroom floor.

Your mother would throw a fit if she knew, but she’s gone for the weekend and Kageyama took the three-hour train ride in stride just to spend a weekend training with you.

College Volleyball isn’t much different from High School Volleyball, except for the harsher course load.

He’d been updating you weekly with the teams and his own progress, updates coming in more often when it turned out that the team had problems adapting to the new Captain, or rather, the lack of their old.

“You miss Sugawara,” you point out only half an hour after he’s arrived.

He looks surprised at first, but then easily gives in.

“I’m still not good at connecting with my teammates.”

“Have you tried the exercises that I gave you?”

He scowls and you laugh. “Come on, Kageyama, I know you’re better than that. Practice with me, then.”

Stiffly, he turns his head. “How are you doing lately?”

You laugh again, louder this time. “You’ve got to work on your expressions, but I’m doing okay, I guess. I don’t have that much time for training because of College, so I feel like I’m falling behind.”

Kageyama falls quiet and you nudge your elbow into his side.

“This is your chance to say ‘I’m sorry to hear that. Can I do something for you?’”

“Why did you go to College if it takes away time from playing Volleyball?” He asks instead and you stop, surprised by his question.

“Because I want something to fall back on if I can’t make it in Volleyball. What if I get hurt? What if I no longer want to play?”

Kageyama scowls. “Why would you want to stop playing?”

“What are you going to do when you’re too old to play professionally?” You ask back and he falls quiet. For the remainder of your run, he��s unreachable to you. Whatever he’s thinking about, he’s far, far away.

“What am I supposed to do instead?” He asks eventually, bangs hiding his eyes.

You’re stretching and he follows your movements, intent on copying you, as usual. As if you have all the answers in the world.

“Tell me about your Childhood, Tobio,” you ask instead.

That’s how you end up, him sleeping on your bedroom floor and you craving nothing more than to pick him up and hug him so tight that all the loneliness drains out of him.

You’re no stranger to grief, but it’s so different when you have to watch someone you care about in its clutches.

Karasuno doesn’t make it to the Nationals in their second year. Tobio still gets invited to this Year’s Youth Camp and you make sure to take that weekend off, taking the same train so you can sit next to him for three of his eight-hour ride, listening to him ramble on about school, Hinata, Volleyball.

“You’re going to do great,” you tell him, wondering how it happened that you’re now feeling this way. As if he punctured your heart and crawled inside, making it his home without realizing it.

Third-Year Tobio is a heartbreaker.

He tells you about the confessions he gets with the naivety of someone much younger. Every single time you have to force yourself to ask “And what did you answer?” only to hear that he’s declined, yet again.

You wonder what he’s thinking of you. You’re still a Star Setter, but do you have anything left to teach him? You think Sugawara did a way better job at that anyway.

But he still makes the three-hour ride at least once every two months, sleeping on your bedroom floor when your mom is away for the weekend.

One time you take his hand in a crowded train station and he doesn’t let go.

If only you could let yourself have this.

But does he even think about you that way?

“Sugawara-senpai?” Kageyama asks, phone pressed hard against his ear. “What do you wear on a sleepover?”

He sits amidst his things, a volleyball in his lap.

“Pajamas, usually. Why do you ask?”

“Even if it’s with a girl?”

Sugawara sounds like he’s choking.

“A sleepover with a girl? Boy, you’re- wait, who are you sleeping at?”

Kageyama says your name with the familiar feeling of pride that comes with it.

He was the one who approached you and he’s the one who still gets to text and call you, visit you even. Not Hinata, who can make everyone like him, or Tsukishima, who’s somehow getting love confessions even though he’s an ass.

“Well, it depends… on what you’ve already done together.”

“Done together?” Kageyama furrows his brows. “We’ve analyzed our games. And I get to play with her friends sometimes.”

“Kageyama.” Sugawara’s voice is serious. “I need to ask you this. Why are you sleeping over?”

“Because she lives far away and I can’t make both treks in one day.”

“I get that, but… why are you visiting her anyway? Just to get more tips?”

Kageyama halts for a second. “I… don’t know.”

“Mhm. Thought so. You know, most boys sleeping over at girls' houses have more than just Volleyball tips in mind.”

“She’s giving me tips on how to get along with my teammates as well,” He explains, but Sugawara just chuckles low in his throat.

“That’s not what I meant. I guess you know what it’s going to look like, right? That’s why you’re asking what to wear?”

Kageyama digs his knees into the floor of his room and bits down on his lip but the words still tumble out.

“I’ve never been on a sleepover before. One that’s not the whole team sleeping somewhere, I mean. I didn’t want to ask Hinata because he’s got so many friends and he might think-”

“Ah…” Sugawara interrupts him. “I get it. Don’t worry. We’ll go over this like we did with the topic of Smalltalk, okay? Basic steps first, then some finer things. Would that help?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Girl’s rooms look different than boy’s rooms, Kageyama knows.

His sister’s room is filled with pictures of celebrities, make-up, and accessories have driven out anything volleyball-related long ago.

Yachi’s room is colorful, with little designer pieces and cute stationery she likes to collect.

Yours is different altogether.

The prizes you won are proudly displayed, next to a collection of textbooks. There’s a bed and a small closet and you serve him tea on the floor of your room, giggling over the stories he tells from training.

Kageyama likes talking to you. Just like Sugawara, you never mind when his words come out more brash than they should, or when he can’t figure out how to word a question right. You’ve got kind eyes and a soft smile and you touch him more often than other people.

Telling you about his grandfather or his fear of ending up alone again - the words might not come easy, but you handle them gently, like it’s safe to let them rest with you.

You snore a little, he figures out that first night. The softest sound he wants to never forget.

Sleeping over at a friend’s house is something he wants to do again and again, talking low in the darkness, knowing that someone who cares is just a short distance away.

When he has to leave you hug him goodbye.

For the first time, he thinks he knows why people do it, this seemingly unnecessary ritual of enveloping each other.

For the first time, he thinks about not letting go.

But his train’s going to leave without him and you wave until the train station is out of sight. Kageyama likes to think you waved a little longer. Just because.

“Are you away this weekend, Kageyama?” Has become a regular question.

Hinata’s no longer pestering him with questions about his private training sessions on the weekend.

He’s getting better at working with the new First Years and a new invite for the National Youth Camp has him reach for the phone to call you.

He’s more nervous than last time and he wonders if it’s about you, sitting next to him on the train, legs pressed together on the small seats.

You smell sweet and he wonders if he could hug, just like that, just because.

Do people do that? Just hug for no reason but to touch? He should ask Sugawara about it.

“You’re going to do great,” you say and he wants to promise that he will, just for you.

But he doesn’t, because that would sound weird, wouldn’t it?

After all, he’s so much younger than you.

Do you even think about him in that way? The way he thinks about you?

Your hand fits perfectly in his.

Kageyama knows the taste of your favorite dessert and always has some money saved to buy you a flower or two at the train station before he gets to your house.

Sometimes, when you sleep, you mumble his name and he can hardly make himself fall asleep because he wants to hear it all, every quiet mention, mumble or snore.

You’re real and you like him, still.

“Are you coming?” He asks when they get through the Qualifiers; when he knows he will make it to the Nationals one last time with this team.

“Of course,” you say and his heart leaps into his throat.

Kageyama almost tells you, then and there, that he thinks this might be love.

But it doesn’t feel right, over the phone like that, so he pulls the words back before they can spill from his lips.

He will tell you, he promises to himself after they win. This time, Karasuno will be the last one standing in Tokyo.

“Oh, you’re here as well,” a guy with greyish hair and a beauty mark beneath his eye waves at you, “We’re sitting over here.”

“Do I know you?” You ask, taking the offered seat nonetheless. The guy pouts and his friends laugh.

“I’m Sugawara,” he explains, “Kageyama’s Senpai. These two are Daichi and Asahi, not that you’d recognize them, right?”

You laugh. “No, guilty as charged. I don’t think I remember any names from your team besides Tanaka and Kageyama.”

“Someone called my name?” Tanaka jumps down the last two steps leading to your seats, grinning. “Kiyoko, they’re already here, Babe.” He waits for his girlfriend to take a seat before leaning in.

“You’re Kageyama’s girlfriend, right?”

“Oh, it’s not- I…” You wave your hands around awkwardly, not knowing what to say. Tanaka laughs.

“Ah, I knew it, I knew it. No way he’s got that much game. But he’s got lots of talent, don’t you think.”

“He does,” you take the offered topic, lament about their Kohai’s talents for over half an hour until the players finally arrive, warming for their first game. More of Karasuno’s former players have gathered around you, as well as a taiko drum group.

Sugawara lets out a shrill whistle using two fingers and most of the Karasuno players look up, obviously used to the signal.

You wave, hoping against hope that Tobio will be able to pick you out of the crowd.

From this distance, it’s hard to tell, but that frown could mean he’s smiling. Sugawara starts to point at you exaggeratedly and you slap his hands away but it’s too late.

Tobio has already turned away.

He doesn’t play well at the beginning. Everyone notices.

It takes him a while to find his grove but when he does, he does.

Then it’s over and you wish to do nothing more but to run down and hug him. But it’s safer up here, you know, where your heart won’t leap out of your throat.

But then you have to leave, get up, and move, because the Niiyama Girls are playing in the other hall and you promised you’d watch their game too, knowing that it would sync up perfectly with Karasuno’s rest period.

“I’m going to be back for the next game,” you promise, “so don’t give my seat away.”

Your heart still hammers in your chest as you walk down the staircase.

If only you could keep these moments, locked up in a mason jar, take them out on bad days to relive them again.

“Are you leaving already?” Tobio’s looking up at you, sweat slick hair sticking to his temple, face flushed from exertion.

“I’m just moving to the other stadion to watch the Niiyama Girls,” you explain, pull him in for a hug when you reach him. “You were amazing.”

“Thank you,” his hot breath tickles your neck and maybe you’re imagining it, but you think you feel his heart racing through the thin jersey.

“Your start was messy though,” you reprimand him, your hand moving on its own to shuffle through his hair, putting each strand back where it belongs. “But you saved your ass. I’m going to be back for your next game, don’t worry.”

“I could come with you,” he rushes out. “It doesn’t really matter where I rest, right?”

You catch a look from Karasuno’s captain over Tobio’s shoulder. A smile dances over his freckled face and he makes a face that tells you everything you need to know.

“Fine,” you tell him, knowing that a ‘No’ would never work here, “But you should put on a jacket.”

His hand finds yours on the way to the other game, his grip warm and strong.

You don’t want to ever let go, but you still do, knowing full well how it would look like to your Kouhai’s. You’ve never had a boyfriend in the whole time you played with them.

And even though the first years still remember Tobio showing up back then, you don’t want to give them any ideas that might come back to break your heart.

“You and Sugawara-senpai,” Tobio starts as soon as you’re sitting, “did you get along well?”

“I guess so,” your leg is pressed against his, the sensation shooting up your spine and into your brain. “He’s nice.”

“How nice?” He asks, voice so low you almost miss it.

You blink. The words are out before you’ve thought them through.

“Are you jealous, Tobio?”

“Should I be?”

You’re not sure how he means it. Teasing? Or is he unsure of this social construct, asking for an explanation?

He takes your hand, looks at it as if checking for injuries. “Would you hold my hand if Sugawara was here as well?”

Your mouth turns dry.

“Would I be allowed?” You ask. “I mean, I’m a lot older than you-”

“I like you.” He blurts it out like he blurts out most things. Two guys in front of you turn around with matching frowns. You’re sure they didn’t come here to hear your love confessions.

“We should talk about this later,” you whisper, cheeks burning. You press his hand. “I like you too, don’t worry.”

“Can’t we talk now?”

And maybe it would have been better to slip out and talk about it, but you’ve never once missed a minute of a game you wanted to see and Tobio’s hand doesn’t leave yours, his grip warm and heavy, his leg pressing into yours.

There’s much to talk about after this game ends and all the other ones today. There’s graduation and other things to consider, but you can’t help but think that it will be okay.

As long as his hand stays in yours, it will be okay.

“Where’s Kageyama?”

You turn to spot Sugawara looking through the crowd.

“Bathroom,” you explain. “I think he had a bit too much to drink.”

“Ah,” Sugawara smiles. “Haven’t had the time to properly talk to you today. How are you? How’s work doing?”

“Good and good. Our last match-”

“I know,” Sugawara smiles. “Kageyama tells me everything. He still calls every week to update me. He spent an hour boasting about that game.”

“Oh,” you blink, a little surprised and a lot flattered. “Wait, is that when he locks himself in our pantry for half an hour each Friday?”

Sugawara laughs. “He’s been asking for my advice for years and I don’t think he’s going to stop soon. I thought you knew, actually.”

“Well, I knew you taught him a lot concerning Volleyball, but this sounds like you did a lot more. Tell me the details, Sugawara-san.”

Sugawara grins cheekily, checking to see if Tobio’s still nowhere to be seen.

“When he spent the weekend at your place for the first time he asked me all kinds of questions. I’m the one who picked out the sleepwear he brought. He usually slept only in boxers or nothing at all depending on the temperature.”

You feel the heat rising to your cheeks. “I see. Thank you’s are in order.”

“Uhuh,” Sugawara winks. “Nothing to thank me for. You two deserve each other.”

“That just sounded mildly threatening,” you joke just as Tobio returns, threading his arm through yours.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your weekly talks with Sugawara-san,” you lean into him. “And the fact that you only wear sleepwear because of him.”

Tobio blushes a soft red. “You said you liked my Volleyball Pajamas.”

“I do. They are adorable.”

Tip me?

#my writing #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #haikyuu!!#hq x reader #haikyuu drabbles #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio #kageyama #kageyama fluff

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chocolatebutterfly881 · 2 days

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♡ 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔽𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝕠𝕗 𝔽𝕠𝕣𝕓𝕚𝕕𝕕𝕖𝕟 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖 ♡

(Pt. 4 of Yan! Mean Sorority Girl x Fem! Reader)

Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3

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Yan! Sorority girl*ೃ༄ who has been more and more clingy around you. Ruining you and Ashley's friendship has been the greatest thing that has ever happened to her. Since then, she practically follows you everywhere whether you are at home with your family, if you are at the grocery store, hell even if you're at the doctors she's right there.

Yan! Sorority girl*ೃ༄ who has moved out of the sorority house and practically has been staying with you.

Yan! Sorority girl*ೃ༄ who sulks every time you force her to do her assignments.

"But whyyyyy? I would make a really good housewive!"

She would whine every time then look away whenever you tell her how much she sucks at cooking and cleaning.

Yan! Sorority girl*ೃ༄ who practically became a part of your family. Your family became use to her being around and see the two of you as friends since she puts on an innocent act.

Yan! Sorority girl*ೃ༄ who is completely different behind closed doors. She would always find herself clinging to you in your bed or if you're cooking in the kitchen when your family isn't around.

Yan! Sorority girl*ೃ༄ who sometimes trails her hand to your shirt when your sleeping and slip underneath to cup your breasts. She would hump against your thigh when she would latch her soft plump lips to your nipple, being gentle so you did not wake up.

Yan! Sorority girl*ೃ༄ the next morning act like nothing ever happened as she would show you tiktoks or some post her "friends" would post and trash on them.

Yan! Sorority girl*ೃ༄ who would literally play any games that you play all because she didn't want you to play with anyone else.

"(Name) I don't know how to move. Why do people play Roblox when it's a kids game."

She would grumble every time you would get ahead in those obby games or those horror games.

Yan! Sorority girl*ೃ༄ who starts to learn any of the drama you watch on your free time whether it was K-Drama, other friend drama, or whenever you would watch Lolcows. She acts like she knows what you're talking about but she really doesn't.

Yan! Sorority girl*ೃ༄ who literally gets jealous if you have pets and give them way more attention than her. She would always glare at them before giving you a smile.

"Yeahhh...they're so cute..."

Yan! Sorority girl*ೃ༄ who literally floods your camera roll with selfies and mirror pictures while you're busy doing whatever. She would go through your phone as well.

Yan! Sorority girl*ೃ༄ while she was looking through a friend's messages when she found out that you were a lesbian...she felt her heart thump and she quickly left you and your friend's chat.

Yan! Sorority girl*ೃ༄ who saw you standing there at the doorway and gave you an innocent smile.

"Sorry I needed your phone to find mine!"

#yandere lesbian #chubby reader #yandere wlw #yandere x you #female yandere #sapphic #yan x reader #yandere #yandere x female reader

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lyrinsluv · 3 days

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6:50pm

timeskip! sakusa x [manager] reader

☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

wordcount: 1158! :D (srry!! it’s long lolol)

practice, practice, practice. it was around 6:50 and it was just sakusa and bokuto left on the court. you’d always did a lap around the entire sports complex where the Jackals practiced because your boss never forgot to remind you that you had to be the last one to leave, even if coach foster was long gone. these laps included you thinking to yourself, and of course sakusa just had to pop up in your head. i mean, he was always cute in your eyes. he was quite respectful whenever he came up to you. thinking back to who was on the court, you were slightly surprised at sakusa’s sudden motivation.

you never really spoke to him, and you weren’t planning on it. he clearly wasn’t interested in much conversation, and you only had to talk to him whenever he asked about his performance at the last game. you sigh to yourself as you see the two still going at it. this time, you don’t do a lap. you walk up to the two and you look at them.

“um.. when do you think you guys will be done?” you ask sheepishly, not wanting to get bokuto riled up.

“whenever sakusa says so!” bokuto responds with a cheeky smile. you tilt your head at this. you never really noticed their subtle friendship. you turn slightly to sakusa, wanting him to answer.

“almost. my receives were bad last game.” he mumbles to you. you knew he had the ‘don’t leave things unfinished’ tendency, so you knew it was going to be a long night. you just nod and you look at the unwaxed court.

“oh, um, okay..” you mutter back.

“i’ll just watch you two.” you say as you walk off to the sidelines. bokuto did get slightly riled up, but you were too lazy to care about it.

“can you keep count of how many i miss?” sakusa says in a louder voice, his head turning to you. woah, sakusa was asking you for a favor? you smile and nod, taking out your notebook.

“sure.” the next thirty minutes were interesting. you’d never seen him in his element. he looked good, the way his thighs looked every time he bent down to receive a hard spike, the way he wiped the sweat off of his forehead after every receive.

bokuto surprisingly departs first, saying something about how he had to go meet up with akaashi for his taxes..? you blink as he hurriedly leaves, leaving the two of you alone. you aimlessly walk up to sakusa. you felt kind of special, seeing him without his mask, knowing that fans always whine and complain about the way he wears his mask whenever he signs stuff.

“um, here's how many you received and let go.” you say as you hand him your notebook. he looks up at you, his mask hanging from his ear. god, why’d he look so hot right now..? he hesitates for a second, but he takes the notebook, appreciating your respect for his personal space. what kind of manager would you have been if you didn’t know what your players liked?

his face doesn’t falter at the numbers, seemingly proud that he had more receives than misses.

“thanks.. for doing this. i know you have to wait until everyone leaves.” he murmurs out as he takes off his calf sleeves. you, slightly taken aback by this, tilt your head. huh? how’d he know?

“oh..! oh, um, it’s okay, i’m your manager, no?” you ask rhetorically with a slight smile on your face. he smiles back, nodding in response as he looks back down at himself.

“sakusa?" you ask hesitantly. "i don’t think you should worry about your receives. i think you’re known as the best receiver, um, like ever. i mean, every one of your fans worries more about your mask than your receives.” maybe that was the most you’d ever spoken to him, but the way the words slipped right off of your tongue smoothly made him think differently. he liked the way you spoke, and he liked how you didn’t try to come close to him considering his minor mysophobia.

“i know, i just needed this to know i'll be good for the next game.” he responds back. it was late, but not too late thankfully.

“it kind of surprised me that you’re the last one here. usually it’s miya.. or, ah, bokuto, y’know? both of them.” you mumble, wanting to keep on talking to him. you knew that he’d probably cut it short by getting up, but he didn’t.

“mm, yeah, those two are.. very obnoxious.” he responds back lazily, his fingers loosening the laces of his volleyball shoes.

you let out a quiet chuckle at this, a chuckle that he enjoyed. he felt a bit confused at his emotions. why were you making him act like this? he’d never been into romantic relationships, considering how much time he spent on volleyball. he also knew that some people would be weird about his minor mysophobia. and relationships were such a hassle in his eyes.

“anyways.. i'll be out of your hair now. thank you for everything tonight.” he says as he stands up. god, you forgot how tall he was. you wanted to get to know him better. you wanted to know kiyoomi sakusa, not the guy you smiled and nodded your head at every once in a while.

“wait, sakusa?” you ask. he looked at you, his mask still hanging off of one ear.

“yeah?” he mumbles back before he carries his bag.

“i.. think we should grab lunch together one day. to.. uh, talk about your receives..?” you ask skeptically, your lie not coming out smoothly. you just wanted to sit with sakusa. he was so interesting.

the smile on his face as he puts on his mask spoke volumes for you. you could’ve sworn your heart fluttered as he spoke up.

“i wouldn’t be opposed to that, manager.” he says quietly, getting ready to depart. you see the janitor coming in to wax the court, knowing it was time for you to go as well.

the walk back to both of your cars was short but.. nice. it was around three minute walk, and in those three minutes, you two conversed about his hate for crowds. and he reiterated that he wasn’t a huge germaphobe, he just hated it when people touched things incessantly and unnecessarily. and you knew for sure that the lunch was going on because you both exchanged contacts.

“bye, sakusa!” you say as your hand rests on your car door handle. he waves you goodbye. you sink into your seat, letting out a quiet sigh.

maybe, just maybe this was going to go well. maybe, this unspoken date was going to be the best one you’d ever been on, and maybe your little crush on sakusa would mean something.

#haikyuu #x reader #haikyu fluff #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #haikyuu sakusa #hq sakusa #sakusa x reader #sakusa kyoomi x reader #msby sakusa #bokuto koutarou #haikyuu fluff

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dr-spectre · 12 hours

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The autism representation in Splatoon needs to be studied and celebrated because oh my god it's actually really damn good and some of the best in media, especially compared to how its usually portrayed in popular media....

As someone who is on the spectrum and has been diagnosed, it's really comforting to know that one of my favorite game series has such positive depictions of autism and isn't just stereotypical depictions we commonly see in media.

Autism in most media is either portrayed as white nerdy dudes who are cold robots that have super intelligence, can understand alien languages and see the world like they are a fucking Lego master builder or some shit and see blueprints in the sky like in The Good Doctor or The Big Bang Theory with Sheldon. Or it's portrayed as people who are incredibly disabled, cannot communicate and have constant tantrums as seen with the dogshit movie Music (2021). Literally the depiction of autism in that movie is actually fucking dangerous as it shows a person pushing an autistic person who is having a meltdown onto the ground and RESTRICTING THEM! WHICH IS VERY VERY VERY BAD! DO NOT DO THIS!!!! PLEASE!!!!!!!! AUTISTIC PEOPLE HAVE DIED BECAUSE OF THIS!!!!!!!!

Now I'm not saying that these types of autistic people don't exist, remember, it's a spectrum so there's a ton of variety in people who have autism, some people have really high intelligence, some have low social skills and need help, some can talk for hours and hours to anyone, some need serious help to function day to day living, however the two types i listed are just the really popular stereotypes which impacts the perception of autistic people just trying to fucking live and enjoy life like everyone else. Some autistic people are just in the middle and aren't on any of the extremes. There are tons of people who fall into the "low needs" and "high needs" sides of autism of course I am not denying that, however there isn't exactly a ton of representation for people in the middle and sometimes those popular representations of autism can damage the entire perception of the spectrum.

Thankfully Splatoon doesn't go for any of those damaging stereotypes but instead goes for something a little more realistic and positive. I think the best examples of this are Marina, Marie and Harmony. While they haven't been canonically confirmed as being on the autism spectrum, they are heavily hinted that they are and show some evidence that supports it.

Harmony for instance is just.... a regular autistic girl, she isn't incredibly smart, she isn't a person who cant speak, no, she's just a regular girl who speaks in a blunt and neutral way but that's about it. As someone who is autistic i can relate somewhat to how she speaks, in real life i tend to just say a few words when talking to someone and i don't really sound energetic or loud about it. i just go "Hey. Hi. Alright. Okay. Oh ok. Uh. I'm good." Some autistic people normally do not speak like they are the nerd emoji and sound hyper smart like Sheldon from Big Bang Theory, and they don't speak in grunts and moans. That's not what all autistic people sound like. There's a decent chunk of them that just speak regularly or speak a little quietly and thats okay. Harmony captures the speech of what a fair portion of autistic people talk like, but not every single autistic person of course. There are a fair chunk of autistic people who need support when it comes to communication, and that's perfectly fine. They are just valid as human beings as the ones who can speak.

She also has an interest in music as she is the singer of Chirpy Chips and is seen stimming and fidgeting with an Ultra Hand. Autistic people usually fidget and stim to calm themselves down and keep their emotions in check, maybe Harmony plays with the Ultra Hand because it helps her stay calm when running Hotlantis.

Now it's time to talk about the most popular example of autistic representation in Splatoon. Marina.

She is quite shy when you zoom in on her in Splatoon 2 when you play as an Inkling, but is known to ramble about machinery and excavators to Pearl and Acht for hours at a time. Technology and machinery seem to be a special interest for her as shown with her creating the Shifty Stations for Splatfests, having hacking abilities and building the Memverse. She gets so much energy and excitement from working on the Memverse as shown by her dialogue in the Dev Diaries. However she is not a flawless super genius like in most depictions of autistic characters, she is known to have uncontrollable emotional outbursts, when Pearl even suggests the idea of Off the Hook breaking up she becomes extremely devastated and thinks of the worst case scenario in her dialogue from the Chaos vs Order Splatfest. She sometimes can't control her anger and snaps at Pearl after losing multiple times in a row in Splatfests.

She also has issues with proper work life balance as she overworks herself with working on the Memverse alongside going on a world tour with Pearl, she vents abouts this in her 10th Dev Diary in Side Order. And speaking of order, she chose team order because she wanted to maintain the balance in her life that she has found. A lot of autistic people have strict routines and any changes to that routine will cause them to get really distressed. If someone comes into my space and says "hey we're going out in 10 minutes." I'm gonna get pissed off and be in a terrible mood as my routine has been disrupted and i wanna do something else. Routines give autistic people a lot of comfort and predictability.

Marina's deepest flaw she kept hidden was the desire of a perfect world of order where nothing can change because she's so scared of her new life being destroyed, but she learns to overcome this fear of change with the help of Pearl by the end of Side Order which may inspire autistic people to learn to be more okay with change, even if its very hard.

Marina is also seen wearing her headphones quite often and rarely takes them off which may indicate she might have sensory issues. Some autistic people may suffer with sensory issues and need to wear headphones or certain pieces of clothing to stay calm and keep their emotions from becoming too much. I tend to wear headphones often because i hate my ears being exposed and I'm very sensitive to certain noises.

She also may have another special interest which may be the Squid Sisters as she litters her laptop and keytar with Squid Sister stickers. Marina also talks in a very excited tone when you get Marie's and Callie's palettes in Side Order. She also acts very giddy and excited during live performances with them and starts stimming which is shown by her moving around in place and clamping her hands together.

Another character who you might not think is autistic right away but shows signs of it is Marie. And to be honest i find her to be very relatable.

Marie is known to be more quiet than her cousin and she acted like this since she was a child. Marie also seems to struggle with social situations and struggles to talk with Agent 4 and Neo Agent 3 and wishes they can just leave her alone when you keep talking to her. However she seems to be a lot more comfortable talking with people she trusts and loves like her cousin Callie. She also makes quite snarky and sometimes rude comments but that doesn't mean she's a rude person, she just likes being cheeky and truly cares about the people around her. She even self loathes and worries about her cousin to an unhealthy degree.

A lot of people tend to say that autistic people have low empathy when in reality some autistic are far from the case. Some autistic people might be TOO empathetic but they cannot show it because it's just so much for them that they can't properly express it. Marie may appear as rude and non caring but she's genuinely a very caring and emotional person but she doesn't know how to show it due to not having developed communication skills compared to neurotypical people. A fair amount of autistic people are not shy people that dont care about you, they just have a different way of speech and communication. 2 autistic people can talk vastly different from each other. IT IS A SPECTRUM! There are some who may have low empathy, but they are not psychopaths who don't care about human life. It's really, really weird to think that and kind of damaging to see autistic people in that kind of light.

Marie is also known to be a picky eater and despises vegetables, refuses to eat the ends of bread loafs, hates tomatoes and pineapple on pizza. (she's literally me holy shit...) some autistic people can have sensory issues when it comes to certain textures and smells and vegetables usually have a weird texture compared to meats and other food groups. They can be seen as "picky eaters" that don't wanna try anything but, some autistic people genuinely cannot eat certain foods and may get sick in the stomach if they see that food and would rather eat anything else. You cannot get me to eat carrots, like I'm sorry but that's not happening buddy. I don't care if they are baked or boiled, i refuse to put that shit in my mouth.

She was also on team order like Marina as she likes to keep things nice and tidy like with most autistic people. Not all but most.

A little tidbit i wanna add as well is that since Splatoon 2, Marie has been seen holding an parasol and for seemingly no reason. Some may say she holds it to seem more professional, however i think she has it around because she likes to hold it in her hands and use it to fidget with, much like Harmony with the Ultra Hand. You can see her spin it around when you stay around her for a little bit in Splatoon 3's story mode. Although I might be looking too deeply into this but i think it might be a cute little detail.

I find it really fantastic that Splatoon not only has good representations of autism, but it's also pretty diverse and shows different elements of the spectrum. Not every single aspect of the spectrum as there isn't an example of a high needs autistic character in Splatoon that I can think of unfortunately, however we got a pale skinny sea anemone who runs a general store and uses an Ultra Hand to fidget with, a tall black woman who's extremely passionate about machinery and technology, and a Japanese squid woman who would rather eat a Splattershot than a tomato. (Callie and Marie are based off of Japanese culture, look at their clothing and styles of music. If they were humans they would not be white women, sorry to break it to you bud.)

Before this ends i wanna say, if you disagree with me then that's fine. I get it. They aren't canonically confirmed to be on the autism spectrum and a lot of this is just speculation and observation. However don't be a fucking dick about it okay? Don't say that i don't know anything about autism and that I'm crazy and dumb. Don't do that shit. Seriously. I am allowed to look deeper into these characters and find relatability and comfort in them. Don't try to make me feel like a freak for this.

Anyways if i did get something wrong about autism let me know in a fair and polite way. I am human and I'm gonna make mistakes, but don't be a dickhead about it, k? Good. Have a goodnight or good day wherever you live.

#splatoon #splatoon 3 #harmony #splatoon marina #marina ida #marie cuttlefish #marie splatoon #autism #neurodiversity #chirpy chips #pearl houzuki #pearl splatoon #callie cuttlefish #callie splatoon #rambles #text post #long post

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steviewashere · 1 day

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Birthday Blues

Rating: Teen and Up Pairing: Steve Harrington & Steve Harrington's Parents, Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson CW: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Emotional Abuse, Brief Mention of Child Abuse, Brief Mention of Financial Abuse, Brief Mention of Secondary Original Character Death Tags: Post-Canon, Post Vecna, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Steve Harrington Has a Stepdad, Steve Harrington Has a Good Mom, Steve Harrington's Father Being an Asshole, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Emotional Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington's Mom is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington's Birthday, Steve Harrington is Loved, Cuddling & Snuggling, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Hopeful Ending, Bittersweet Ending

Based on my own experience with my stepdad and uh...yeah, that's it, basically. Be kind, I guess? 🤷‍♂️

Also on Ao3 because this shit is long.

🫂————————🫂 He thought his twentieth birthday would come with more fanfare. Maybe not the whole calvary. But something simple. A cake, maybe. A card, possibly. Even just a simple “Happy Birthday.” That would’ve sufficed.

And the problem isn’t with his friends. No. They’ve sent him messages over the walkie since the clock hit midnight on June 29th. Made plans for the next few days. Promised birthday gifts tonight. He wondered if everything was supposed to be a surprise: the gifts and cake and plans. But Robin had already reached out, promised him that she already spoke with everybody, made sure to tell them how he doesn’t like surprises; not after Vecna, not after his ankle had been grabbed.

The issue is with his mom’s boyfriend. His ‘stepdad.’

Nobody really knows much about him. Not really. Nothing above: “He’s an asshole. I don't like him.” Which is…a way to make an impression. But he doesn’t really enjoy talking about him.

The boyfriend came into the picture when Steve was seven. When he was naive and confused about the world around him. When he was used to it just being him and his mom for a while. His birth dad had passed on really young—nothing that could’ve been prevented, but it wasn’t any sort of accident, and Steve doesn’t like talking about it; so he just doesn’t. But the boyfriend came along after so much nothing. After a life half-lived.

He was kind, at first. Interested. Capable. Made Steve’s mom happy. Took her out for dates—which left Steve with a babysitter; then on his lonesome when he turned thirteen—he bought her things, promised the moon, was at her beck and call. He even cared about Steve. Introduced him to the world of Spiderman comic books and baseball games and driving with the windows down. Had been there for home baseball games, Steve’s first piano recital, and for the first handful of birthday parties. He helped, when there was nothing. He helped, even when they had everything.

Then came the alcohol.

Steve remembers it clear as day. The vacation they all took together. They’d taken a plane from Indianapolis to Seattle. And it was sort of cool, Steve figured. The hotel with the indoor pool and the double-wide beds and the really nice view over the tops of tall apartment buildings. It was the first of many trips; one of the last Steve went on. What came with the nice hotel, though, was a bar and grill down at the lobby.

And sure, it was a time for celebration. Of sorts. They were heading out for Disneyland, Steve had been wide awake since the night before, his mom had bought them matching shirts so that nobody got lost. It was ideal, fun, what say you. But then the boyfriend came upstairs, a cup of something sticky in his hand, and a glaze to his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“We’re celebrating,” he had slurred, “it’s alright, just for the night. Let’s have some fun.”

It didn’t stop there, though. Steve hadn’t known why at first. But then came the arguments over the next couple months after that decision. When the recycling bin was full of more beer bottles than empty containers of yogurt. When Richard was slurring his words earlier and earlier in the evening. When he’d sleep a good amount of the day, try and right himself from work, barely talk to anybody when he came back, and already had a bottle in hand by the time conversations started. The arguments were unrelenting, though. He could hear them through the floor of his bedroom: “Laura!”, “Richard.”. A few tense moments would pass after Laura, Steve’s mom, would say that name. Steve would leave his bed, in all the right spaces to make sure it didn’t creak, and settle himself by his bedroom door—where he could open it a crack just to hear, just to know, in case something happened and he had to go down there. Then, she’d speak again. Quiet and wet and calm, “I wish you would stop. If not for me, do it for Steven.”

Steve would hold his breath. Waiting. His mom never called him that, not unless he was in trouble, not unless she was serious. And his stomach turned at the thought of it. She’d call him Stevie otherwise, all soft and sweet and soaking—akin to the sugary butter at the bottom of a freshly made cinnamon roll. He liked that. He loved her. He loved Richard, despite all of this.

Until, finally, Richard spoke. “Is that supposed to make me care?” He questioned with ire. “He isn’t mine,” he eventually spat. And then he stormed to their bedroom—downstairs on the first floor, just off of the living room—slammed the door.

His mom wept that night, Steve could relay if asked. And he had been too tied up in his own awful sadness to go downstairs and comfort her. It wasn’t the last time. Wasn’t the last slammed door, or argument, or soft cry; for either of them. At least Mom loves me, he had thought, at least she’s mine.

With the alcohol and that understanding of absent love and those arguments, Steve would instigate them, too. He’d pick fights if only to get Richard to leave the house quicker. He’d scream and spit and stomp his feet, if only to get time alone. He’d even get fussy with his mom. Because if he could be an ass, get them both to be angry at him, maybe Richard would stay off of her for a little while. Maybe he wouldn’t drink so early. Maybe he’d have to have a conversation about “Steve’s antics.” It only made him more distant. It only made him angrier.

And with all of that in mind, he stopped the birthday celebrations. He stopped caring. He stopped saying “I love you,” when Steve went to bed. He stopped being a dad.

Because Steve wasn’t his. And he wanted to make sure the whole world knew it.

In comes his twentieth birthday, though. And he thought, maybe, that Richard would care. That he’d do something similar to when Steve was a kid. Make pancakes and wake him up with a soft knock to his door and sing the birthday song. He supposed, though, that that was all so foolish. That he wasn’t a little kid, so why would Richard do any of that? Maybe to prove himself, that’s something. Maybe care at all.

His mom had said something at midnight. Then again at nine in the morning. Then again over scrambled eggs and bacon. Made plans. Ushered a card full of cash and the Duran Duran album he didn’t have yet, Notorious, on cassette into his hands. He thanked her, kissed the top of her head, and put his things away upstairs. Richard still had said nothing. In fact, he was snoring through the wall. And the evidence of his latest binge had been scattered across the kitchen countertops before making it to the recycling bin; Steve should know, he had to put them in there and his hands came away smelling of cheap beer—it’s not even the good stuff, how can he drink this shit, he asked himself.

But he couldn’t find it in himself to care anymore. Sure, his chest caved in something funny. And his throat sort of went dry. He went to his car, though. And he drove off to where Robin had told him to go. To Eddie’s new double-wide trailer, a damn replica of his old one on the outside. Where everybody was already parked and waiting. Hanging out outside, sodas and…beer in hand.

He took a steadying breath and forced his way over to them. Let them shout ‘Happy Birthday’ at him. And then he took a seat by Eddie. He was in a pair of loose black basketball shorts, a white t-shirt, and barefoot. His hair was piled up. And he was drinking.

“Hey baby,” Eddie greeted. He leaned over the side of the sofa they were on, dug around in what Steve assumed was a cooler, and held out a weeping beer can. “Technically, it’s not legal, but I’m not going to tell anybody.”

Steve eyed it for a few long seconds. Enough that Eddie’s hand wavered, the beer threatening to fall to the floor. He looked back up. “No—uh—no, I don’t want that. Can…I’m going to sound like a dick, but can I make a request?”

Eddie put the beer away with a sidelong glance. He furrowed his eyebrows. “It’s your birthday, Stevie. Of course you can make a request.”

“Can we put the beer away? I don’t…It’s making me uncomfortable.”

Another odd glance to Steve, Eddie gave. His mouth pinched. He swished his near empty can in his hand. How many has he had, Steve wondered briefly, some weird pulse of panic in his belly. “Sure,” Eddie agreed slowly. “You going cold turkey or something? Could’a sworn you had one the other day when I saw you?”

He watches Eddie stand up briefly, pour out his beer over the side of the porch, and then place it in a clear garbage bag that’s been tied to the railing. There’s already three or four beer cans in there—Steve knows that’s what they are, they all say Miller and the cans the kids have are bright red or green. He looks back to Eddie’s face when he settles down again, an arm thrown over the back of the couch, hair falling loosely from his bun, sweat on his brow, sweat or beer on his upper lip.

“I just don’t want people drinking today, please.” And he feels kind of silly. Having to explain himself.

But Eddie’s hand curls down from the back of the couch, dangling loose at the back of Steve’s neck. Fingers trailing over the top notches of his spine. “You got it, sugar. I’ll have Robs put it away inside, okay?” Steve nods loosely, lets Eddie holler out, and relaxes into his side.

The rest of the day went by pretty smoothly. There were gifts: hairspray from Dustin, some artwork from Will, a new basketball from Lucas, matching shirts from Robin, a book he’d asked for from Eddie, and cards from the others who couldn’t find something in time or afford anything. He’s thankful for it all because it’s more than he expected. And there’s cake, his favorite, German chocolate with Ferrero Rocher candies on the borders; “Nance and I made it,” Robin explained and he gave her a knowing look.

It was all so normal. So good. So sweet.

Just like it had been last year. Even the year before that. And the years prior, when it was his mom and Tommy and Carol and Nancy. And the years before that, when it was Richard and his mom.

He really wants to cry about it.

When the party dwindles down, it’s just him and Eddie. Eddie’s putting out the last of the recycling and cleaning up some dishes, to which he adamantly refused to let Steve help with. And so Steve takes advantage, using the new phone.

He dials his house number and waits as it rings for his mom to pick up.

“Harrington household, Laura speaking,” she greets, her voice…nasally. Unusually so.

“Hey Mom,” he greets back, “it’s…Well, you know it’s Steve. Just called to…wanted to check-in. How’s everything going?”

She shuffles on the other end. Clears her throat. Sniffs. “He’s not going to say it, Stevie, I’m sorry,” she says, voice unreasonably apologetic. “I tried to get him to at least call this number you gave me, you know for your Eddie friend. And he…he just scoffed at me. Said some things, you know how he is.”

“Oh,” he mutters. His voice must do something weird, because Eddie’s slowing his wash on the dishes, leaning further into the counter edge to look at Steve. “Are you okay?”

“It’s the usual, Stevie. It’s just—“ She sighs, a great heaving thing. “—Just the usual. He’s already out to the store. Took the last bit of my cash for it; he spent all his own. Left me here with microwaved leftovers. Might turn in early.”

“I can give back the bit of cash you gave—“

“No,” she rushes. “No, Stevie. That’s your money. If it came back to me, he’d probably take it anyway. Don’t worry about it, alright? Just…If your friend can let you, I think you should stay the night there. Richard’s…he’s got the whiskey out from the den. Just stay with Eddie for now. I’ll take you out tomorrow for cake, okay? We’ll make a little date out of it. Just us. Like it was…Like it was before.”

He stands still for a moment. The phone cradled in his hands by his ear. Her words ringing out so loud, yet so soft. He really wants to cry about it.

“I’m sorry,” she mutters in his silence, “I’m sorry he ruined this for you.” She shuffles again. Probably got one arm wrapped around her waist, stepping to the side in her slippers. Like she always does when she has to call her sister about…him. She sighs again. “I’d leave him if I could. God, Steve. I would create whole galaxies for just us to live in if I could. I wish I knew how to fix this. I’m sorry I can’t fix this.”

“It’s alright, Mama,” he whispers, utterly broken. “’T’s alright. We’ll do cake tomorrow, yeah? I’ll pay for us to get milkshakes for old times sake, right? Like…” He swallows. Murmurs, “Like before.”

Just off to the side, Eddie’s inched closer. The dishes completely abandoned now. Steve doesn’t want to look at him, thinks he’ll break down if he does. But his body heat is welcoming, wrapping around him like a warm hug.

“Like before,” she echoes. Sniffs. “Just heard the car outside. I’ll…Call me in the morning, okay? I’ll let you know how tonight went. I love you, Stevie. I love you, don’t forget that.”

He takes a breath, it stutters like the skip over a scratch on a record. “I love you, too,” he breathes out. “Be safe,” he murmurs, “you have the address if you need to get away. Or…call me if you need me to get you.”

“I’ll be okay,” she mutters, a wisp of a smile to her voice. “Now, you go have fun. Tell Eddie I said hi. And that…Tell him I say thank you for keeping you.”

They share their goodbyes almost hastily. Right as her words fall through the receiver, the front door seems to open, and the phone is hung up before he can chance anything else. The dial tone is blearing in his ears. He keeps the phone cradled close, like maybe she’ll reach a hand out through the speaker and caress his face. Kind of wants her to.

And he doesn’t have the chance to stop himself from crying. Trembling where he stands. Tears streaking hot and fast down his cheeks, over his jaw. He doesn’t make a noise, but it’s a near damn thing.

“Baby?” Eddie calls softly. He takes a hesitant step forward. And he’s closer than Steve thought. Right at his left side. His hands reach out and take the phone from Steve, hanging it back up. He wraps his palms over Steve’s biceps, barely turning him. “Sweetheart?” He calls out again, softer this time. Bending down just a little to make them stare at each other. He moves up to Steve’s face, cupping his cheeks, thumbs working over the tears. “’S everything alright?”

He sobs something little at that. Closing his eyes so he can’t see Eddie. “He’s so selfish,” he manages to cry out, “Why doesn’t he care?”

“Who, sweetheart? Who’s ass do I need to…” Steve finally stares back. And whatever it is that’s there, Eddie seems to understand. “Oh,” he coos, “oh baby.” In a flurry of movement, Steve is pulled in tight and close. Haphazardly dragged back to the sofa and plopped down almost unceremoniously, if Eddie weren’t holding him so carefully. There’s a palm at the center of his back and one on his head. Both of them firm and welcomed and warm.

“He—Just—He just doesn’t,” Steve hiccups between breaths, “Never—Never cared.”

Eddie shushes him gently. Leans back against the armrest behind him, and pulls Steve on top. His face is tucked into Eddie’s left shoulder, where it’s awkwardly stuffed between the armrest and the backing, and he just cries.

There haven’t been a lot of moments where Steve’s cried over this. Maybe once or twice when he was in high school, but that’s about it. Otherwise, he was getting it out through anger or ignoring it altogether or trying to talk it out with his mom. So many conversations and so many arguments and so much just shoved inside his chest. He thinks if he weren’t getting it out right now, soaking the fabric of Eddie’s white shirt, he’d probably burst at the seams, maybe teeter, fall right off the deep end into something murky and thick. He’d probably die from it. Have a heart attack, maybe, like his dad did.

When there’s nothing more to cry out, he just breathes hot and heavy and choking over Eddie’s shoulder. “I’ve got you, baby,” Eddie murmurs, fingers petting through Steve’s hair, “we’ve got nowhere to be right now, okay? You can fall apart here, I’ll still catch you.”

He sniffs. “I just…I just want him to love me,” Steve admits quietly, “To think of me as his kid and to want to do better and to just be somebody I wanna be around.” His arms wrap snuggly around Eddie’s waist, pushing himself further into the hold of their bodies.

“Can I ask something?” Eddie asks gently.

“You just did,” Steve murmurs, voice crackling with the joke. It’s almost hollow coming out of his mouth.

But Eddie snorts anyway. “Okay…Fine. Two questions. Does this have anything to do with the whole beer thing earlier?”

Steve stiffens, brain fighting to find an excuse, but he figures it’s best to just be honest. Even as shameful as it seems to be some days. “Yeah,” he sighs, giving in. Swallows harshly, his jugular moving over Eddie’s shoulder, the sharp outline of the joint against his neck. “Yeah, it does. He drinks like everyday. Sometimes he…some days he doesn’t, claims he’s stopping for good, says he won’t pick it back up. But then he’s doing it the next day and I—“ He shrugs where he can move. “I just don’t get it, I guess. And I…I try so hard to not think of him badly, y’know? He’s probably got shit he’s working through. But it’s almost everyday, Eddie. He’s almost always drunk. Always arguing with my mom. I can hear him through the floor of my room,” he admits. “I want to feel bad, but the way he treats me—the way he treats my mom—“

“How does he treat you? Just focus on you right now, Steve.”

He squeezes his eyes shut and breathes a harsh sigh through his nose. He can’t bring himself to pull his head up, to look Eddie in the eyes. “I want to feel bad,” he repeats slowly. “But he’s so awful. He’s not a good person when he’s drunk, Eddie. He just riles me up, argues with me, tears me back down. That sort of shit.” Steve shifts, rolling his head over onto Eddie’s chest. The depth of his breath under Steve’s ear.

“He told me to go fuck myself the other night,” Steve murmurs, “I don’t know why, but that like…It solidified in me the fact that he doesn’t love me. I don’t know why I expected him to tell me happy birthday today. Why he’d choose this year out of ‘em all to finally be the person I expected him to be. Just my stupid brain, I guess.”

Eddie’s arms tighten around him. Hands petting over where they rest. “It’s okay to be disappointed, Steve,” he carefully states. “You wanted the best for him and he let you down, tore you apart in the process. You needed him to be your dad and he’s made no effort, it’s not…You’re not stupid for wanting that love.”

“He used to be so nice, Eds. I used to love him. I want to love him, but he makes it so hard. God, that makes me sound like such a terrible person, to admit something like that out loud.”

“No, Stevie,” Eddie immediately says. “You’re not a bad person for wanting to love somebody. And you’re not a bad person for refusing yourself to love them. He’s hurt you, Steve. And you’re allowed to feel how you need to.

“And…” Eddie’s hands clasp over the middle of Steve’s back. Heavy and sure. “From experience,” he musters, “with my dad, sometimes you just gotta let go of that love. Sometimes you just gotta tell yourself that it’s not possible. Because…honestly, in some ways, it is impossible. My dad had every opportunity, and yet he chose alcohol and drugs and crime over me.

“I miss who he was…Before my mom died. I miss his laugh and his hugs and our inside jokes. Miss the way he used to play guitar and the late night drives we’d go on. I miss when he taught me good things, like catching lightning bugs in our palms and how to make a good smash burger and how to tell entertaining stories.

“I don’t miss him now, though,” Eddie confesses quietly. The words almost lost in Steve’s hair. “He hurt me in irreparable ways. Mentally and…and physically. But what got me through the worst of it, before I came here, was knowing there were other people out there who’d love me. Who love me and continue despite who I am or what I’ve experienced. Like Wayne. And my grandma, at the time. My friends; Corroded Coffin especially.

“I could spend a million lifetimes unloved by my dad, but at least it’s the real love I was surrounded by. Sometimes people are so damaged that they like it, they like the cracks they can trace and the anger in their blood, they almost enjoy it—they usually don’t get better. My dad was that way. Even when he quit the couple times he did, he always found his way back to that alcohol, those drugs.” Eddie’s fingers absentmindedly trace over the notches of Steve’s spine. His breath a little heavier, a bit raspier. And Steve is absorbing the words. “Sometimes people want to get better and they don’t know how. And that’s when help is needed, outsourced hands, intervention, that kinda shit.”

“We’ve tried,” Steve breathes heavily. “My mom and I have tried so damn hard, Eddie.”

“What’s he usually say in response to that help?” Eddie asks quietly.

Steve takes a deep breath. Sighs, “That he doesn’t want it.” He slowly brings his left hand to Eddie’s chest, tracing figure eights over his shirt. “I wish he’d want it. I—He was my dad for a little while. Now I just live with a stranger.”

“I’m sorry, Steve,” Eddie murmurs, “for what it’s worth. I’m sorry you’re going through this. That you’re still going through this.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not, Stevie. Things don’t have to be this way.”

“It has to be fine,” Steve mutters, “there’s no other way right now. I can’t leave my mom. And my mom can’t leave him. And he won’t stop.”

Eddie takes a careful breath. “You can leave, though. Steve, you’re an adult, you can go,” he softly states.

“I’m not leaving my mom,” Steve snaps lightly. He sniffs, the last of those tears and snot receding. “Sorry,” he breathes. “I just can’t do that to her, Eds. She wouldn’t do it to me. I’m not gonna do it to her.”

“Okay,” Eddie murmurs, “then, look at me, sweetheart.” Slowly, careful of the slight tension in his neck, Steve raises his head and stares down at Eddie. There are tear tracks on Eddie’s cheeks. A sheen to his eyes. And Steve begins to reach up, but Eddie holds him down tightly. “You, Steve Harrington, are loved by people who want to do right by you. You, Steve, will have love in so many corners of your life. The love that Dick has isn’t for you and it definitely isn’t for your mom.

“I love you, you hear me? And Wayne does. Hopper does. There, that’s two dads. Your mom loves you, too. She loves you with her whole soul. And you’ve got your friends, Robin and Dustin especially. And you’ll have more, Stevie,” Eddie explains gently, his fingers going back to trace along the edges of Steve’s spine. “I can’t fix things, I’m sorry. And I’m not sure how things turn around. But they will some day. I know it because I lived it. We can’t figure it out right now, but we’ll find our way some time down the line. Focus on the people you’ve got right now, though, Stevie. Not him. He ain’t worth a rat’s ass.”

Steve snorts wetly. His lips tremble and his eyes ache something fierce. He’ll cry forever at this rate, but at least Eddie’s hands move to his cheek, at least he wipes the tears away. “I love you, too,” he breathes. “And I’m sorry that you have to know all this shit. That you had to go through that.”

“I’ll figure out a way to know how to get you through it, too,” Eddie murmurs, smiling softly, his eyes moments away from leaking. “But you’re loved. He ain’t worth it. Don’t go searching for something you ain’t gonna find.”

He drops his head back down and burrows under Eddie’s chin. At least he found this. “When I’m ready to go, will you have space for me?”

“Always and forever,” Eddie rushes to answer. “Remember, baby? You fall and I catch you. You come knocking on my door, I’m gonna answer it. And if you climb in bed with me, I’ll hold you close and never let go.”

Steve nods gently, pushing himself in further. He sighs. “Thank you,” he mutters. Eddie squeezes him in. “My mom said hi and thank you, by the way. Remind me to call her in the morning? I wanna make sure I get her before he wakes up.”

“You got it, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs, “now let’s get ourselves to bed before we fall asleep on this couch. Gotta be comfortable, don’t we?”

He huffs. “But you’re comfy.”

Eddie snorts. “I love you and I don’t want you to be sore. Come to bed with me?”

Steve wriggles. “Okay,” he relents. “Because I love you and I also don’t want you to be sore.”

And, he supposes, because he's loved.

🫂————————🫂 Sorry if this sucked, I wrote this with a raging migraine and have no grasp on how shit it is. Whoops.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington's parents #steddie #angst and hurt/comfort #read the content warnings #cw alcohol #cw alcoholism #hopeful ending #bittersweet ending

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if-whats-new · 2 days

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What's New In IF? Issue 10 (2024)

By Erika, Marjorie, Axelle, and Noi

Now Available!

Itch.io. - Keep Reading below

Due to Internal things, the June and July issues will only update on events and games. We hope to resume regular activities and include more pages by August. Note: while Axelle is mentioned, they are currently on a break.

~ EVENT SPOTLIGHT : NEO-TWINY JAM ~

Happening every June, the Neo-Twiny Jam is a jam with a simple restriction: you are only allowed 500 words to create a game!

Even though the wordcount is tiny, it is still larger than the one given by Porpentine's original and pivotal 2015 jam, the Twiny Jam.

With 200 more words (still excl. code and non-story screens), and the possibility of using any program (not just Twine), the jam is meant as a commemoration of Porpentine's influence.

Not just looking to make people think creatively about the restriction, the Neo-Twiny Jam is using its platform to raise money for charity!

Every submitted entry (up to 3 per creator) is matched for a donation to TransEquality, an LBGTQ+ organisation.

If you have 500 words in your IF pocket, come and submit it for a good cause! From kinetic to parser, experimental to conventional, and even visual novels, the Neo-Twiny Jam accepts all IF! The organisers are also looking for donors (matching or set donation). @neo-twiny-jam/@neointeractives

Looking for inspiration? Check out last edition!

~ CONFERENCE ~

The registration for the Narrascope ended last week, as the talks are currently happening. If you didn't manage to snatch an ticket, don't worry, they will be uploaded on YouTube down the line.

~ ONGOING (VOTING) ~

The Rayuela (Spanish IFComp) is also still in their voting period. If you are Spanish speaking, come support the entries!

~ ONGOING (SUBMITTING) ~

Only a week left to submit to the ParserComp! Whether it's classic or more experimental, there is still time to submit a parser!

If you are looking to make a Visual Novel, the Otome Jam will be looking for entries until July 1st. There is also the Josei jam running parallel to it.

While it is not IF-focused, the Anti-Romance Jam is once again looking for anti-romance submissions!

Love/Violence is another unranked game jam looking for entries dealing with Love and Violence and all the things in between (also accepts non IF)

Only a week left to register an intent to participate in the IntroComp, a yearly competition where you can submit unreleased WIP and compete for cash prize… if you finish the game within a year!

From now until the start of July, you can participate in the Fix the Worst Visual Novels Jam.

Can you write something in French? Or use Google Translate? The annual Nouvim3000 is an unranked francophone IF jam where you need to write between 500 and 3k words. This year's theme is “INCOMBUSTIBLE”.

~ ENDED ~

The Narrascope Jam has also ended this week, with 6 entries. Check them out here! They will be played at the conference too!

While the RAFFLE FOR PALESTINE has closed their ticket submission (the winners being contacted shortly), you can still help donate and boost GSM!

~ OTHER ~

The Interactive Fiction Showcase is still running! If you have completed an IF piece this year, consider submitting it! It is happening only on itch!

~ NEW RELEASE ~

We didn't find new fully released game outside of jams and competitions. So you should check the events mentioned in previous pages!

There were a lot of really cool games!

~ NEW RELEASE (WIP) ~

Court of the Gilded Roses (CScript) is a harem court intrigue project inpired by the Sassanid dynasty and Persian mythology. @crazerk

Where We End (Twine) is a dark fantasy project, a prequel to To Death, I Embrace. @to-death-i-embrace

Brain Death - An Oracle’s End (CScript) is a sci-fi psychological horror project where you play as an Oracle.

Dark Justice (CScript) is superhero project where you play as a vigilante.

9.1.1. (Twine) is a romance medical drama.

~ GAMES UPDATES ~

As Gods Fall (CScript) has updated their Patreon demo build. @asgodsfall-if

The Night Market (Twine)'s last update is now available to all. @night-market-if

Drink Your Villain Juice (CScript) has completed Chapter 6 for the Patreon demo. @drinkyourvillainjuice

College Tennis: Origin Story (CScript) has updated the Ko-Fi demo again, as well as the Public one. @collegetennisoriginstory

The Operative (CScript) has updated the Public demo and looking for beta testers for the next update. @theoperativeif

Meteoric (CScript) has added Chapter 3 to the demo.

The Ultimate Magic Student (CScript) updated the demo on Patreon.

Thicker Than (CScript) updated the demo with new scenes for Chapter 10. @barbwritesstuff

Last Dream (CScript) is now complete. The game will be available until CoG approval.

Saturnine (CScript)'s demo received a short update.

Dawn of Heroes (CScript) added Chapter 24 to the demo.

~ OTHER ~

The Queer Games Bundle (@queergamesbundle) is live on itch.io. Support a bunch of queer creators (including Interactive Fiction authors!) by purchasing the bundle!

The new edition of the Choicebeat zine has been released this week. Check it out here!

Twine game makers beware: Twine updated for the new version of Chapbook.

We apologize if we missed an update or a release. We are but volunteers trying to find as much info as possible, but sometimes news pass through the cracks.

Please, let us know if something should have been added to the zine, and we will shout it out next week!

ERIKA, MARJORIE, AXELLE, AND NOI

WHAT'S NEW IN IF? 2024-ISSUE 10

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 1 day

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hey, this is the same 14 year old from earlier. first, i want to thank you so much for such a well rounded, thoughtful response. i went through all the resources and they were all very helpful. after thinking about it, i think i probably won't do this after all. technically i think i am ready, i understand the possible consequences, i know how to be safe, etc etc, but i'm just kind of anxious. and it might be a better idea to wait to do things like this with someone i actually have romantic feelings towards, because i'll probably enjoy it more then, right? i'm not exactly sure why i agreed to do it in the first place, i guess curiosity or for the sake of formative teenage experiences or literally just "why not" lmao. i do have one more question if that's alright, do you know of a good way to tell her that i don't really want to do this anymore? we haven't set up an actual date and time yet but she's serious about it and i was serious about it but obviously my opinion has changed. i feel kind of guilty about backing out especially because she kinda wanted this as a rebound after breaking up with her girlfriend of like, six years (which means it might be good if we don't do this anyway, this might be an impulsive decision on her part that she ends up regretting).

also one more question (sorry) if you have the time and energy for it. i know there's a lot of people asking you questions haha. how would you get an STI or STD through oral sex? i understand the basics, its spread through genital fluids and gets into your body that way, but how would the symptoms start showing in your own genitals? or would they not and just show up in your mouth or throat? the planned parenthood link kind of talked about that, but it said that it was rare. anyway thank you so much! you've been genuinely so helpful and kind and i appreciate it so much!

hello! welcome back! it's great to hear from you again, and I'm glad that response was helpful. it's awesome that you were able to weigh all the available information to make that decision. you'll have plenty of other opportunities for formative teenage experiences, very few of which have to involve sex at all - I'd be a bad sex witch if I didn't tell you that I didn't have sex with another person for the first time until I was almost 21!

cancelling this plan with your friend might feel awkward, but it doesn't need to be worse than dipping out of any other activity. "hey, I think I changed my mind about wanting to see this movie; I don't really think I'm going to vibe with it. thank you for inviting me, though!" 'I'm actually not feeling up to going to the game, but I hope you can find someone else to go with." "sorry to change our plans, but I think having sex actually isn't something I want to do right now. thanks for being understanding."

this may hurt your friend's feelings; it can often feel extremely personal and hurtful when someone doesn't reciprocate an interest in sex, and feel much worse than someone saying no to other kinds of plans. this may be especially true if you're right about your friend trying to rebound from a previous relationship - six years is a long relationship for anyone, especially someone for whom six years is almost half of their life, and there's a good chance she's still feeling sore from the loss of that relationship and is seeking comfort and validation from another source (you). good on you for being insightful enough to notice this and recognize this! that's an important trait to have, both as a friend and in your future romantic and sexual relationships.

if your friend doesn't take it well when you change your mind, you may need to get a little space from her while her feelings cool off. remember, while you should be kind when you say no - obviously nothing like "I wouldn't want to have sex with you, you're gross and just rebounding" - you're not doing anything wrong at all by changing your mind, and if your friend starts trying to pester you into changing your mind or acting more harshly to you, we've definitely crossed into the territory where she's the asshole. (not that you're the asshole for saying no; nobody is the asshole in that scenario.) if she takes it poorly, it's okay to ask her for some distance and spend less time around her until the hurt feelings are mended.

remember: you don't need to feel guilty for changing your mind. you are always allowed to do that, even if you're in the middle of having sex. you don't owe anyone else access to your body, ever, and anyone who tries to convince you otherwise can go straight into the trash.

and please don't ever feel the need to apologize for asking about STIs, they're one of my favorite things to talk about!

for many STIs that can be transmitted to the mouth, the symptoms will stay in the mouth and/or throat. sometimes that will look like sores or blisters in or around the mouth, which are sometimes painful and ooze discharge and sometimes don't feel like anything at all. it can also feel like an ordinary cold, with a sore throat and some difficulty swallowing. in most cases, the symptoms won't spread to your genitals unless you also contracted the STI there as well - for instance, if you touched your mouth and tongue to an infected partner's genitals and then also touched your genitals to theirs as well. but while the symptoms looks different, the medicines that treat STIs affecting the genitals are just as effective at clearing up infections in the mouth and throat.

I'm super happy to help, and please know you can send in more asks any time :)

#sex edventures 2024

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dekariosclan · 18 hours

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As a fellow galemancer i had to share that when your doing the spell scene with gale, when the narrator says the weave is making your one, i couldnt help but notice that he slowly blinks at you like a cat, since tara is technically part cat im sure they blink slow for affection so im not sure but Gale as a cat person slow blinking at you feels so cute, just some food for thought adore you blog as well have a great day

OP, you are absolutely brilliant. However, it seems somehow tumblr autocorrected ‘tressym’ to ‘cat’ in your ask, because as Gale and Tara would both insist, she is definitely NOT a cat, absolutely not, not even a smidge, she’s proudly 100% tressym and we would never want to insult her or get on her bad side by insinuating otherwise! Obviously that was a mistake on tumblrs end! nothing more!!

(…okay OP I think we are in the clear, that should smooth things over with Tara, just wanted to cover all our bases there 😂)

You raise a really interesting point—Gale, having been partially raised by a tressym, could absolutely have picked up a few tressym qualities and mannerisms! So let’s talk about that:

slightly 18+ / suggestive under the cut!

First off, to your point, Gale does the tressym slow blink to show affection. As if Gale’s soft cow eyes weren’t appealing enough, those slow, soft, affectionate blinks?? How could you resist:

Gale loves to touch you, hold your hand, have his hands on you, and of course massage you…except that his massages, while lovely, seem to be less ‘ease your muscle stress by applying firm pressure’ and more ‘making biscuits on your back.’ When you ask where he learned his technique, he says he’s self-taught and proudly adds ‘Tara approves of my form.’ (Doesn’t matter, you love it regardless.)

Gale longingly mentions his tower’s ‘crackling hearth’ several times throughout the game, and just like Tara, it’s one of his favorite places to be—ESPECIALLY if he’s curled up next to it with you. Now, whether you’re on his lap or he’s on yours? That’s entirely up to you. Though Tara might object if her favorite spot—Gale’s lap—is too frequently occupied >:(

Gale occasionally adds in a soft, loving head bump during a makeout session—gently, of course! (This one is canon IMHO as he does this during his ‘Grateful’ kiss variant seen here)

Speaking of making out, when Gale’s engine really gets revved he’ll move from those yearning moans to a low, steady rumble of desire from deep in his chest. A purr of arousal if you will—but one that can turn into a growl as he hungrily claws at your clothes, if your laces/buttons are not cooperating with his need for immediate removal.

It’s canon that Gale hates vegetables, full stop. After all, what self-respecting tressym craves broccoli? He’d much prefer to share a meal of quipperfish, pigeon, or beholder meat with Tara. A proper carnivorous meal, and preferably one that comes with some sort of cream-based delicacy for dessert. Also…are those peas on his plate? Carrots?! Instantly incinerated.

And finally, Tressyms are fastidious about their cleanliness—Tara herself can be seen diligently cleaning her paws during the epilogue—so of course Gale follows suit. He’s very vocal about being disgusted by the bloodbath you can get while in the mindflayer colony in Act 2, and he loathes being in the sewers of Baldur’s Gate. Gale prefers to be clean and preened at all times, not only for his own sense of pride, but also so he can be as presentable as possible for you. (As he himself put it, ‘A gentleman is only as handsome as his least-groomed locus.’). Now when it comes to your cleanliness, though, Gale would never criticize you for your, ah…sweaty, glistening muscles after a fight, OR your particular musk arising from said sweatiness and dirt. In fact he rather likes it, because the only thing better than being clean is the process of getting clean, which he will happily help you with! Perhaps a long, hot, luxurious bath, your naked bodies intertwined as he runs his hands and mouth a bar of soap over every inch of you. Or, perhaps, if bathwater is not available, he could go full tressym and simply lick you clean himself clean you up in a different manner! Who knows?? The possibilities are endless, and he does have a practiced tongue. 😉

— — —

Thank you again for this lovely ask OP! I hope I painted an accurate picture of just how similar our beloved Gale is to a cat TRESSYM !!

As always if anyone has any additional points, please feel free to add them! 🐈🪽💜

#gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #baldur's gate 3 #gale x tav #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #galemancer #gale x reader #answered ask #tara the tressym

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queensunshinee · 2 days

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Time Of Our Lives || Part 17

Part 17:

The silence in Liana and Patrick's room had a static tint. Like hearing a sound from an old song over and over again but not knowing which song it is. A familiar but distant feeling. A repression that explodes in your face. Over and over and over again.

The knowledge that she was alone made it easier for her to release the tears, as if in this characterless room, in the fancy hotel, she could allow herself to be well…herself. And all she wanted right now was to lie on the bed in a fetal position and cry over the years she wasted. Over the time that won't come back. Over wrong choices. Over mistakes. Mistakes. Mistakes. So many mistakes. Why couldn't she be one of those people who shout "bingo" after exactly three rounds? Why does everything have to be complicated? Why does someone else always win?

Patrick came in late. As if he wasn’t even trying to hide what he did. Liana fell asleep easily, it was past midnight, and he expected her to be asleep. To his surprise, the light was on and Liana was packing a suitcase. "Lilo, what's going on?" He swallowed hard. He didn't see her face but his heart was racing, 'You know what's going on.' "Lilo," her voice was quiet, and sarcasm washed over her like the last of the cynics as she chuckled while repeating the nickname.

"Where were you, Patrick?" She turned to him, and he swallowed hard. She was swollen and red from crying and anger, and like always, all her emotions were displayed on her face like a billboard. He had seen her contempt for him before, but not like this. Not with such determination.

"Liana," he closed his eyes and tried to regulate his breathing. "Be a man and say it," she said, not moving, continuing to look vaguely at him, past him. He was silent. "Pussy," she rolled her eyes and went back to the suitcase. She sounded like Tashi for a moment, and Patrick wanted to die. Sweet, gentle Liana. The one who thinks eight times before saying something, sounded like Tashi. "Liana, look at me for a second. Wait a minute." He wanted to throw up. He didn’t know how to stop her anger. How to minimize the damage. How to make sure she stayed where she was. How to make sure she would let him get close to her again. "If you touch me, I'll stab you in the eye." She said with feigned indifference when she heard his steps approaching her. "Please look at me." He begged. "Liana." His voice was more authoritative, knowing she wouldn’t withstand it. That her desire to feel needed and good was usually greater than her anger. "It won't work. Not this time. Not when it comes to Tashi Duncan." She said, as if knowing in advance what his strategy would be. What he would try to do.

"Let me explain. Please." He would get on his knees if he had to. She couldn't leave this room without knowing that he loved her. That he would leave his entire life for her. As he had done once before.

"Thank God I don’t have your baby. God, what a mess would that be." She muttered to herself as she closed the suitcase. Patrick took a few steps back. "What are you talking about?" He also had tears in his eyes, and he felt like he couldn't breathe. "What the hell are you talking about? Hey, look at me!" He approached her, raising his voice with every word he spoke.

"Do you really think I would have kept your baby, Patrick? As if this whole life isn’t a mistake anyway," she shook her head from side to side, saying the most venomous and painful things she could think of. "What baby?" His voice returned to being quiet. Like a child who was promised a puppy and then told he hadn't behaved well enough. "Ask Tashi." She scoffed and walked past him towards the door.

Patrick didn't stop her.

Art couldn't look at Tashi. They were supposed to go over videos of his competitor and do a short practice before today’s game, but he couldn’t look at her, and he couldn’t hide it either. "Did you tell her?" she asked after 20 minutes of awkward silences and business as usual. "Huh?" he didn’t understand. "Liana, did you tell her?" she asked more slowly. Sometimes it took Art a moment to understand. "What did I tell her?" His heart started to race. "Oh my God, Art, you saw me and Patrick yesterday. Don’t tell me you didn’t tell her." She reacted as if it was obvious. "You saw me?" he asked. "Of course I saw you. You wore green and stood out like a traffic light." She rolled her eyes. "And you still went with Patrick." He didn’t understand.

"Oh my God, Art. Just answer me, did you tell Liana or not?" She was starting to lose patience completely. "Yes..." he turned red and couldn’t look at her, "I’m sorry, I couldn’t hide it from her, Tash-" he started a monologue, hoping it wouldn’t cost him his friendship with Tashi. He had gotten used to her presence more than he was willing to admit, and she really did make him a better player. "Good, did you seal the deal?" she asked, and he blinked at her, not understanding anything anymore.

"Tashi, what?" he asked, feeling like they were having a conversation between a deaf person and a mute one, at this point. "Art, God help me, did you fuck her?" she asked directly for a change, reaching the conclusion that she couldn’t hint at anything with him. "What? No!" he was startled by her accusation. He would've jumped out of the couch if he hadn’t been more concerned about his composure in front of her.

"Why the hell not?" she asked in disbelief. "I don’t understand this conversation." He voiced his thoughts aloud. He was maroon-colored at this point. "I made it so easy for you, Arthur, what else needs to happen for you to claim what is yours?" She looked him in the eyes and saw him swallow hard.

"Liana is not mine." He said. Loser. "She’s not Patrick’s anymore. That’s for sure." She replied. Tashi really and truly didn’t understand what was holding him back. For a year she had seen him fumbling in the dark with the girl he looked at with hearts in his eyes. A year. Who doesn’t give up after a year?! Maybe someone who carries the key to her room for five years like a pathetic fool while she’s in a relationship with his best friend. But Tashi knew more than Art. Tashi saw Liana up close as a woman sees another woman. She saw the dark circles around her eyes and the despair. She saw so much despair.

And Patrick has this ability, Tashi thinks. To be the best and the worst at the same time. Like an electric current throughout the body, there are places where it feels good and places where it burns. Patrick mostly burns. And Tashi saw Liana six months ago, almost completely burnt out. Almost begging for a lifeline.

So she gave a push. She gave a little shove in hopes that everything would sort itself out. If Art had enough balls, everything would have been sorted out yesterday, but in the meantime, everyone keeps suffering and paying for his mistakes from five years ago.

"Okay," she sighed. "Let’s go back to the video and leave this until we get back from Atlanta, alright?" she asked. "But Tash-" he tried to resist. There were so many questions on the tip of his tongue. "Art. You are going to win this tournament. You are going to be the winner of this week, do you understand me?" she asked in the most authoritative and serious voice she could find. Art had no choice but to nod.

Hey, can we talk? -Patrick-

Liana -P- Hey, not sure if you saw, but I won the Atlanta Open, wish you were here. How are you? -Art- Hey girl, you haven’t answered your phone for a few days, should I be worried? -Melissa- Liana, if you don’t answer me, I’m coming to America and staying in your shitty apartment until I grow old. -M- Patrick and I broke up. -L- Do you want me to come? -M- Always. -L- I miss you. -P- Liana. we need to talk, we can’t leave things like this. -P- Just tell me you're okay. -P- You weren’t at the construction site today, can I call you? -A- I packed all your things, when can you pick them up? -L- Liana, can we talk like adults? Please. -P- Lilo, I’m begging you. -P- Okay, tomorrow at 8 PM, is that okay? -P- Leave the key in the closet outside when you’re done. -L- You won’t be at the apartment? -P- Hey, can I come over tomorrow around 8 PM? -L- Of course. Here’s the address. -A-

Liana heard a knock on the door at two in the afternoon and got annoyed. She didn’t want to see Patrick, and they had agreed that he would come to get his things at eight in the evening. Why couldn’t he just do one thing properly for once?!

“We agreed you’d come at eight, so what the fuck is this?!” she asked as she opened the door, seeing Tashi standing there. “I decided to come early,” Tashi replied sarcastically. “Can I come in?” she asked and entered without waiting for an invitation.

Liana was dressed in an oversized T-shirt and shorts. If Tashi had to guess, and she didn’t really want to, the shirt probably belonged to Patrick. Her hair was greasy, and she looked like she hadn’t slept since Tashi last saw her briefly in Atlanta, three weeks ago.

“You don’t have a couch in your living room,” Tashi said. The small space that could barely be called a living room looked empty, filled with boxes that Tashi assumed were Patrick’s, but the absence of the couch was noticeable. “I paid the neighbor $150 to get rid of it or burn it. I don’t know. Why are you here?” Liana asked, looking at her with complete disinterest.

“You and I, we’re not friends, you remember that, right?” Tashi said. “You came to my house to tell me we’re not friends? You slept with my boyfriend, I figured out we’re not friends on my own.” Liana rolled her eyes. Indifference was the only thing evident in her voice. Maybe also exhaustion. “I just remember you sitting across from me in a café, me asking if you wanted to be friends, and you saying something like ‘God no’. We were both there, right?” Tashi reminded her of their conversation when Liana had asked her to accompany her to the clinic.

“Well done, Tashi, you did a good deed for a complete stranger, and now what? You won’t rest until we all remember that you’re actually a bitch?” Liana asked, looking at her. “Look at you, how much character you’ve developed in these weeks,” Tashi replied and chuckled. “What the fuck do you want? I’m busy.” Liana said, turning her back to her. “With Self-pity?” Tashi asked. “Do you need something? Did you come to gloat? What’s the purpose of your visit? How do we finish this faster?” Liana ignored her question.

The truth was, Liana pitied herself a lot. She had ended a relationship with someone she really loved, who had hurt her so much there was nothing left. And she probably still loved him. And she probably always would. And what did it say about her if she was willing to love someone who treated her like gum stuck to the sole of his shoe? But Tashi didn’t need to know all that.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry if you got hurt.” Tashi sighed, and Liana turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t think you’re supposed to get hurt, but I’m sorry if you did,” she added quickly. “I’m not supposed to get hurt by the fact that my boyfriend of the last four years slept with someone I trusted enough to ask for help when I had no one else to ask?” Liana asked in response. Her leg started to shake uncontrollably.

“You’re not in a relationship with me, I don’t owe you anything.” Tashi shrugged. “Do you want to hear what I think, Liana?” she asked.

“No, not really.” “I think you chose wrong. I think one of them thrives when you’re with him, and one of them withers when you’re with him. You chose wrong. And now you’re dealing with your choices. Because we both know Art worships you, and when you stand next to him, he’s the best he can be. He proves to you he’s the best he can be. He’ll be the best for you because you’re there, next to him. Watching.” She paused to catch her breath but looked at Liana with a gaze that made it clear she wasn’t finished.

“Patrick, on the other hand. He’s at his best when he needs to prove to you that he deserves your attention. The moment he got it, he lost it. He lost interest. He lost the reason to prove himself. He stopped striving higher. He wilts. You think he’s draining your will to live? Just by agreeing to be his, you took away his reason to live. It’s too comfortable for him now. He doesn’t need to impress you anymore, and who is Patrick Zweig when he doesn’t need to impress Liana Levy? A shadow of the person he was. You chose wrong, and you know it.” She finished, examining Liana, who just looked at her with tear-filled doe eyes.

“Buy a couch, Liana, or better yet, leave this shithole. It smells like mold here. Art’s apartment is nice, and I think he’d be happy to have you as a roommate.” Tashi applied what looked like hand sanitizer, patted Liana’s shoulder twice, and left the apartment.

All Liana could do was sit on the floor, crying. She didn’t have a couch to hold on to for the remnants of her self-respect.

heyyy :) kinda shorter chapter but I felt like it was a needed one. also, once again, we have more Tashi 🤭 as always, talk to me, the askbox is very open <3

taglist: @soberbabes @nina357 @lamoursansfin @marley1773 @ruyaas-world @apolloscastellan @primlovesdilfs @fangirl-kimora @serenadingtigers @imbabycowboy @do-it-for-kicks @izzywags478 @4deline08 @igotmajordaddyissues @jackierose902109 @ganana @yoitsme-04 @swetearss

#art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #art donaldson #patrick zweig #challengers fic #the time of our lives #challengers #tashi duncan

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